Let me preface this by stating the obvious: I don’t know Gabby Douglas.
I’ve never met Gabby. I don’t know her family. I don’t know anything more about her than what has been published in the media, and what is apparent from watching her incredible Olympic performance: that she is a gifted athlete and a talented young lady who deserves all of the accolades, all of the acclaim, and all of the adoration she has received during these Olympic Games.
During the individual event finals, Gabby looked exhausted. She looked nervous, tense and vulnerable.She didn’t have the same confidence evident in her earlier performances, and it showed in her last-place results. She admitted to being tired after the uneven bars:
“I made a little mistake, but I’m human and when you get towards the end of the Olympics you get drained and tired,” she told USA Today. “No matter how much rest you get, you wake up and your body is so tired. You train everyday and still compete every other day. You go back in the gym, and it’s very hard and your body’s stiff.”
Physical exhaustion clearly played a factor. Whether or not mental exhaustion did, too, is not for us to know. Because I don’t know Gabby, I am not going to pretend to know her mental state. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be 16, making history on the world’s biggest athletic stage, and read that people are talking about your gelled edges and messy bun – the same gelled edges and messy bun that your teammates and competitors also wear. It must have been difficult for her to see stories about her mother’s finances and to have to answer questions about her father’s whereabouts. While Gabby was clearly fatigued, the media demands on her time and the negative press probably didn’t help.
I don’t know Gabby, but I do know a bit about teenage girls.
Teenage girls are some of the most confounding creatures on the planet. They are little girls in women’s bodies. They can be poised, polished and articulate one minute, and weepy and insecure the next. A story about my own teen illustrates the point.
When I received the Corporate Counsel of the Year Award from the Metropolitan Black Bar Association in May, my 15-year-old daughter was excited about attending the awards ceremony. Her preparations – hair blown out, eyebrows shaped, manicure/pedicure, new dress, new shoes, and makeup – were as intense as mine. Before we left home, she giddily posed for pictures.
For the first hour or so after we arrived at the venue, my daughter greeted my friends and colleagues with a big smile on her face. She blushed as person after person said, “Oh, my God, you’re so grown up now! I remember you were just a little girl when I first met you!”
At our table, however, she wilted. She pulled her beautifully blown out hair back into a scrunchie. She draped a shawl around her form-fitting dress. A couple of tears slid down her perfectly made up face.
“What’s wrong?” I stage-whispered before anyone else at my table noticed.
“People keep looking at me,” she whispered back.
“They’re looking at you because you’re beautiful.”
“I don’t like it.”
“But wasn’t the point of the hair and the dress and the makeup and all that?”
“I’m just not used to it. It makes me uncomfortable.”
A few more tears escaped. Before she completely ruined her mascara, I reached in my purse and handed her a tissue and my iPad. “Here. Dry your face. And play a game. Check out for a bit. You’ll be fine.”
Once again, she was the little girl coming to visit me in my office, loving the attention at first, but hiding behind my back by the end. She recovered more quickly at 15 than she did at four. After playing a few rounds of Unblock Me on my iPad, she tuned back in. She was smiling broadly by the time I went up to the podium to give my acceptance speech.
Watching Gabby smile for the cameras, showing true sportsmanship in congratulating her teammates, I thought of my daughter. I wondered what emotions Gabby’s bright smile was masking. I hoped her mother got to give her the hugs I longed to give her. She has already shone so brightly, perhaps we had no right to be greedy for more gold for Gabby. But I was reminded that, although she competes in women’s gymnastics, Gabby Douglas is still a kid, as all teens are. Despite the grown-up poise, she is still a little girl – albeit one who has already achieved greatness, and who is destined for so much more.
Since I don’t know Gabby, when I got home from work today, I hugged my own daughter.
August 8th, 2012
You captured SO perfectly this strange hard to wrap your head and arms around as a mother time in your daughter’s life when she’s trapped between being a girl and trying to become a woman. I am just on the cusp of this with my 11 year old and am realizing that this is a slow and arduous process and it really is a lesson for me in patience and the understanding that I need to learn how to be there for my daughter in a way that feels satisfying to her (and not to me) to help but not hover, to offer but not demand…it is a balance I am working hard to master– and after reading this- I am going to be looking to you for guidance;)
August 8th, 2012
Carolyn, thank you for that. It is Soo true. And you hit it perfectly. SHe is still a child, at 16 she still can’t vote, sign a contract, drink, etc. but yet she has made history and outperformed so many people.
People need to lighten up and celebrate all that she has achieved, both gold and loss. Thanks again.
August 8th, 2012
Oh, I thought the same thing!! That she just needed some sleep! And probably a few hugs from some loved ones. Maybe a good cry or two.
I don’t know how many adults could withstand that kind of intense pressure day in and day out for weeks at a time. I would hate to do it. And it doesn’t matter that “she’s trained to do it her whole life”! It’s still very difficult and wearing.
I saw that same look on my tween’s face when she came home from sleepaway camp earlier this summer. Tight, drawn, tired. Your post is a good reminder to not ask too much of them too early.
August 8th, 2012
Amazing post Carolyn! You captured what so many are thinking about Gabby. It is unfortunate that people are more concerned with “creating” negative stories about her instead of highlighting and applauding her accomplishments.
Society has made many African American women fixated on outward appearance, that they lose sight of what is important, which is uplifting our young women and allowing them to be confident with who they are and not be concerned that they are not the vision of “perfection” at all times. Gabby Douglas has accomplished more than many have or will accomplish in their lifetime, and we need to recognize that. It is not her hair that matters, or her mother’s financial situation or the lack of a father in her life. Rather the blood sweat and tears that she has dedicated to perfecting her craft.
Something that Gabby said really stuck with me when she won her Gold medal and while I hear it all the time it really resonated when I heard her say “ I’d like to give all glory to God, and when the PRAISES go up, the BLESSINGS come down.” She will continue to give thanks. Through it ALL.
August 8th, 2012
great post! i remember attending similar events with my mom and jumping at the chance to get as dolled up and beautiful as her. i also remember the exhaustion and thinking “yeah this is fun but i can’t wait to get back home and throw my hair in a messy bun, grab some fruit and curl up with a babysitter’s club book.” i pad’s weren’t around for me, but my mom usually kept candy or something in her purse that, for me, had the same sort of soothing impact. i hope gabby is given the appropriate amount of space to enjoy her family, fame and fortune.
August 8th, 2012
Wonderful, thoughtful post. It perfectly captured how tenuous this age can be. Our girls want to be independant, look and act all grown-up. But they are still just that, girls. Not women. As mothers we need to remember that and remind our girls that it’s okay to give into those emotions.
August 14th, 2012
Thank you, let’s remember that Gabby is still a child. Proud of her accomplishments, but I know her mother wants to just cover her and protect her from this harsh world at the same time. Great post Carolyn.