Moms Reclaim Athletic Identities through Tennis Classes

Ruby Griffin stands as the family’s most experienced tennis player. At five years old, she has dedicated half of her life to learning tennis. Excitedly, she demonstrates the proper forehand position to her mother, Castro, at the Burbank Tennis Center. The coach instructs them to hold the racket up and stand balanced like a surfer on a board.

Castro, 42, residing in Toluca Lake, acknowledges her daughter as the leading force on the tennis court. “She’s the tennis girly,” says Castro, taking a step back to let Ruby lead. In this new Mommy and Me tennis class, caretakers become active participants, enhancing their own stories. Castro, a former dancer and cheerleader, experienced an identity shift with motherhood. Gradually, she works on reclaiming herself, starting with warm-up drills. “Here I am,” she observes, taking small steps back on the tennis court.

The highest fashion statements at these classes are Hello Kitty shirts and tiny Dodgers hats. Some young participants, as young as three, can barely see over the net. When asked to show his forehand, a young player sits on the racket instead. It’s a far cry from Wimbledon.

Unexpectedly, this class shares a connection with Wimbledon. At least six mothers competed in Wimbledon’s women’s singles draw recently, including Serena Williams. Before her injury return, Williams emphasized motherhood’s motivational role, wanting to share moments with her kids.

For many mothers, reclaiming an athletic life post-children requires overcoming challenges: childcare, time, finances, recovery, and societal acceptance. Williams expressed this during her first-round match, serving powerfully as her daughters watched. Though an injury halted her Wimbledon journey, she hinted at another comeback.

The Mommy and Me class provided a great outlet for Kimberly Foon, a 49-year-old from Pasadena, who took a lengthy tennis break due to family and career demands. Alongside her son Ian, they enjoy hitting water balloons back. Upon impact, the explosions delight both, creating fun memories.

Mehlman’s tennis class emerged from watching mothers yearning to participate while on the sidelines. A former athlete herself, Mehlman offers a welcoming environment for moms to play. The class hopes to become a fixture, allowing moms to RSVP via Instagram for monthly sessions. Class interactions include sharing stories about dance classes and restaurants, with both novices and experienced players participating.

Societal norms often shift focus away from mothers, impacting their athletic existence. This phenomenon is not new. A Mommy and Me class connects to women breaking mountains for generations, such as Wilma Rudolph. In 1960, she won three gold medals despite false claims about women’s capabilities.

Alysia Montaño, who challenged maternity consequences in sports, illustrates the broader societal battle. Racing while pregnant and founding For All Mothers+, Montaño supports mothers with resources like childcare grants. Next recipients expected to receive $2,000 with free gear.

Recent studies highlight women carrying most childcare duties, impacting their ability to train and compete. The ‘motherhood penalty’ explains the societal perception that diminishes women’s ambition post-motherhood, affecting both workplace and sports.

Stephanie Johannesmeyer balances motherhood, work, health, and training with her family. Her journey highlights societal expectations surrounding motherhood and ambition. Hospitalized with POTS, she perseveres by running marathons, supported by events like the Disney World Marathon.

Throughout tennis class, mothers affirm that dedicating time for themselves enhances their motherhood. Nicole LeVine, who takes weekly group tennis sessions, exemplifies this sentiment. Her coach recently called her an athlete, marking her progress in redefining her identity.