As of the time this blog post was written, women had won the first 13 Canadian medals at the 2020 Olympics (which are being held in 2021 because of the pandemic). From swimming to rowing to judo, softball and weightlifting, women kept up the pace set at the last Summer Olympics, when they won 16 of Canada’s 22 medals.
It’s hard to think of any over-arching reason for the success of the Canadian women. After all, people of all genders train for years just to get to the Olympics, never mind being able to take a place on the medal podium. Why are women winning the lion’s share of the medals? Who knows!
But what we do know is that such intense physical, mental and emotional preparation takes a toll. That was evident when American Simone Biles, often described as the greatest gymnast of all time, stepped away from the competition. Her mental health had deteriorated to the point where it was unsafe for her to compete, she said.
While only she knows what led to that moment, Biles had talked in the past about the abuse she suffered at the hands of the American national gymnastics team’s doctor, who, it was eventually revealed, assaulted hundreds of women and girls over the course of decades. The U.S. governing body for gymnastics knew what he’d done and kept it quiet, a government probe found, and as Biles asserted, done nothing to stop him and to protect the young women in their care.
It’s not amazing that Biles walked away from the Olympics. What’s amazing is that she stuck it out so long, being treated as a commodity by her sport and the Olympic organization as a whole. Along with the medals she earned came lasting trauma and damage to her psyche.
Although their stories are different—just as every woman’s story is unique—Biles’s refusal to continue to compete on behalf of a country and an organization that hadn’t kept her safe called to mind the stance taken by top-ranked tennis player Naomi Osaka, who withdrew from major tournaments citing the relentless pressure of media questioning and scrutiny. Both women spoke of doubting themselves, of trembling and being racked by stress, and of finally realizing that they were the only ones who were going to truly care for their mental well-being.
Women in any aspect of public life face enormous pressure of a different kind than that men face. The same is true for athletes—women’s bodies and attractiveness are constantly being judged and exploited, sometimes unintentionally but often entirely intentionally. That’s obvious from the fact that several women athletes at these Olympics have rebelled against the revealing uniforms their sport requires them (but not their male counterparts) to wear. And even the institution itself says it’s making a concerted effort at these Games to reduce the sexualized nature of how women’s sports are covered. (They have a long way to go—just watch floor routines by male and female gymnasts and note the differences in what they’re wearing, who has to smile and wiggle their hips and who’s allowed to simply get on with their routine without sequins or grins.)
Making it to the top levels of any sport requires tremendous skill, strength, dedication and mental toughness. The women who make it there, like the Canadian medallists (and the rest of the Olympians) have truly done something impressive.
Almost as impressive, though, is the ability to say “no” and walk away from things that are harmful, sexist and degrading. Girls and women involved in sports have the right to compete without fear of being objectified as they do so, or of being assaulted by those who are supposed to help them. And when a sport, a country or a system isn’t treating them humanely, they have every right to protect themselves.
By Nancy Payne
