A Question Worth Asking: Why Do Teachers and Coaches Approach Their Roles Differently?
Imagine this: A parent reaches out to their child’s teacher with a question about their progress in class. Maybe the child is struggling with a concept or unsure about an assignment. In most cases, the teacher acknowledges the concern—perhaps responding via email, setting up a meeting, or offering extra help after school. If the teacher is unavailable or unresponsive, the parent can contact the principal, who will typically step in to ensure the conversation happens.
Now, let’s step into the world of youth soccer. A parent reaches out to their child’s coach with a question about their development, playing time, or what they can work on to improve. The response? Sometimes there’s an open dialogue, but other times, the request is met with silence or resistance. Conversations that feel natural in an academic setting often feel much harder to initiate in the soccer world.
This raises an interesting question: Why is that?
Similar Structures, Different Experiences
Private schools and soccer clubs share some core similarities:
Families choose them based on what they believe is the best fit for their child’s growth and development.
The people leading these spaces—teachers and coaches—play a key role in shaping a young person’s learning and experience.
Leadership—whether a principal or a club director—is responsible for upholding the organization’s values and ensuring a positive environment.
Yet, despite these parallels, the way communication and mentorship unfold in each setting can feel quite different.
The Power of a Mentor
A child’s strongest sense of identity often shapes where they seek validation, guidance, and encouragement. Some children feel most connected to their academic self, while others define themselves primarily through their sport.
For a student who struggles in school, feedback from a teacher may be helpful, but if they don’t strongly identify as a student, that feedback might not carry as much emotional weight. However, when a young soccer player—who sees the sport as central to who they are—seeks guidance from a coach, their words have the power to shape that child's confidence, motivation, and belief in themselves.
This raises another question: When a coach is unavailable, disinterested, or simply too busy to engage with a player in meaningful ways, how does that impact the child? Could it lead to self-doubt or even a loss of passion for the game?
A Conversation Worth Having
In education, there is a clear expectation that teachers will be accessible and engaged with both students and parents. When communication breaks down, there are systems in place to address it. In soccer clubs, this expectation is not always as clearly defined.
Is this simply a difference in culture? Is it the nature of sport, where competition and performance often take precedence over mentorship? Or is it something else?
There’s no single answer, but it seems worth pausing to ask:
What would it look like if soccer clubs embraced mentorship and communication in the same way schools do?
How might that impact young players who see themselves first and foremost as athletes?
If we believe that youth soccer is about development—both as players and as people—how can we create an environment where coaches and directors feel both supported and encouraged to take on that role more fully?
This isn’t about assigning blame or saying one approach is right and another is wrong. It’s about inviting curiosity, reflection, and conversation. Every child benefits from adults who believe in them, whether that’s in the classroom or on the field. What small shifts could we make to ensure that support is felt in every part of their journey?
A Conversation on Leadership, Purpose, and the Culture We Create
Dear [Club Leadership / Coaches],
I’m reaching out not to challenge or critique, but to invite reflection on some fundamental aspects of leadership within high-level youth soccer. These thoughts come from a place of curiosity, support, and a deep desire to see our sport serve young athletes in the best way possible.
One of the more difficult, yet important, questions I’ve been considering is this: Could coaches—particularly at higher levels—unknowingly be using their top players as a personal measuring stick for their own worth and value? If winning is the primary metric by which coaches and club leadership are judged, wouldn’t it be natural—consciously or unconsciously—for those in these roles to do whatever they can to preserve not just their job, but their sense of worth, identity, and external validation?
The challenge is that when leadership operates from a place of personal needs—whether that be job security, reputation, or external perception—it inherently places the needs of the young athletes behind their own. And this leads to the deeper question: What is the true purpose and intent behind coaching? If the answer is to positively impact and influence young players, then every decision should be filtered through that lens.
Yet, all too often, the day-to-day reality contradicts this purpose. Coaches and directors may say all the right things in marketing materials and parent meetings, but their actions—or inactions—send a different message. I understand how difficult it can be to sit in a leadership position, where expectations from players, parents, and club administrators are relentless. But I also believe that challenges present opportunities for growth—not just for players, but for the leaders shaping their environments.
Perhaps one of the greatest blind spots and weaknesses in the youth soccer club culture is the way communication (or lack thereof) between coaches and families plays out. A very common, almost predictable scenario unfolds in clubs across the country:
A player or family feels their needs aren’t being met.
The parents attempt to communicate this to the coach.
The coach—who has likely been conditioned to avoid parent communication—ignores or deflects.
The parents, feeling unheard, share their frustrations with other parents.
The collective dissatisfaction builds, creating a divisive culture within the parent group.
The players, highly observant and aware, sense the tension and begin discussing it amongst themselves.
Eventually, this dynamic trickles back to the coach, who withdraws further, feeling attacked and isolated.
At the core of this pattern is a simple, human reality: self-protection. Coaches are often not given the tools, guidance, or support from leadership to navigate these interactions with openness, curiosity, and humility. And so, they default to avoidance—not because they don’t care, but because they don’t know how to handle the situation in a way that doesn’t feel like a personal attack.
But what if we shifted our mindset? What if we, as leaders, recognized that our role is not to control outcomes but to create an environment where players and families feel heard, valued, and supported? Imagine a culture where, instead of resistance, parents were met with openness. Where a coach could confidently say, “I hear you. Let’s talk about what’s best for your child.”
Shifting a bit- Another weakness and one of the biggest sources of conflict in youth soccer is the resistance coaches have when players seek new opportunities. Why is this? Could it be that, deep down, many coaches tie their value to team success, and losing a key player feels like a direct threat to their worth and identity that they have built? The subconscious thought process might go something like this:
If a good player leaves, we may lose more games.
My value as a coach is judged by wins and losses.
If we struggle, I may be seen as less competent or respected.
If one player leaves, others might follow, and I need to prevent that.
But when we coach with a deep alignment to our purpose, these moments of transition wouldn’t need to be met with fear or resistance. Instead, they could be handled with confidence and grace, because we would know—with certainty—that our role is to serve the player’s best interests, not our own.
Ultimately, this all comes down to leadership. Parents want to trust that their child’s well-being is the coach’s priority—not just in words, but in consistent actions. They want to know that communication will be met with curiosity, openness, and empathy. When these qualities are present, trust is built. And when trust is built, coaches earn the unwavering support of families, not through force or control, but through genuine care.
So I leave you with a few questions to consider—not as an accusation, but as an invitation to reflect:
Why do you coach?
Who are you coaching for?
Who are you coaching? The top 2% or the 98%
Who are you actually serving?
How do you ensure that your actions align with your stated purpose?
How can you lead in a way that instills trust rather than fear, openness rather than defensiveness, and long-term player development over short-term wins?
These are not easy questions. But they are essential ones. And my hope is that by embracing them with humility, we can all play a part in building a culture where young athletes are truly put first.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I appreciate the work you do and the impact you have on the lives of so many young players. If this message sparks any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.
Why we do what we do & Why do we do what we do?
Coaching With Clarity and Intention
As coaches, we often focus so much on what our players need to do to improve, but how often do we pause and ask ourselves: What do I need to change about my approach to truly help my players grow? If we want to help our players—and by extension, our teams and our clubs—we must start by helping ourselves first. If our intentions and actions are not aligned, we create contradictory and conflicting energy, and things will not flow the way we hope. Progress and success require clarity: intentions and actions must be aligned in order to reach the highest and best possible outcome.
Aligning Intentions with Actions
Our intentions as coaches and directors matter deeply. Is our focus on winning games, fostering player growth, or both? If our actions and energy are misaligned with our stated goals, it creates confusion for the team. For example, when disruptive behavior or team culture issues arise, the instinct is often to isolate the "problem player," punish the behavior, or ignore the issue, hoping it resolves itself. Unsure how to handle it, many coaches default to the methods they were taught by their own mentors or coaches.
When each player feels seen, heard, and valued—when there is true psychological safety—these issues rarely emerge. And if they do, address them collectively. Frame challenges as team exercises rather than singling out individuals. Ask questions like:
Does this issue exist within the team?
What contributes to it?
Is there a chance that I could be contributing to the issue?
What can we do to support the player or players involved?
Resistance only fuels persistence. When players feel supported rather than blamed, they’re more likely to align with the team’s intentions.
Who Are You Really Coaching?
As coaches, it’s crucial to get clear on our intentions, especially when it comes to the players we coach. Are we coaching with the mindset of preparing every player for the next level, asserting all we know in an effort to validate our own expertise? Or are we truly serving the 98–99% of players who will never reach that elite level?
This is a powerful question that demands honest reflection. Once asked, it can fundamentally shift how you show up, coach, and teach. If your focus has been primarily on the 1–2% destined for higher levels, it’s worth asking yourself: What else do I have to offer to the majority of players—the ones who might not make it to the top but still deserve to grow, thrive, and love the game?
This reflection has the potential to transform your approach, unlocking parts of yourself and your coaching philosophy that may have remained untapped. By embracing this broader purpose, you can ensure every player you work with benefits from your guidance, not just the few chasing the highest levels.
Letting Go of Ego and Control
Too often, a coach’s ego and need for control overshadow the ultimate goal: creating an environment where players thrive and achieve their fullest potential. When a coach becomes overly focused on their reputation or rigid ideas about the “right way” to play or lead, it creates a subtle yet powerful resistance. This resistance stifles collaboration, creativity, and ultimately the team's success.
But what if we shifted our mindset? What if we trusted that outcomes—like wins and championships—would naturally follow if we prioritized building a culture of safety, creativity, and support? A culture where players feel empowered, not micromanaged, and where their voices and ideas are not just tolerated but truly valued.
The Power of Openness
Letting go of ego starts with embracing openness. This begins with humility: the acceptance and curiosity that we have more to learn. As coaches, we often feel pressure to project certainty and authority, but real leadership comes from acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers—and we don’t have to.
In fact, some of the most valuable insights may come from the very people we’re leading: our players.
Think of it like running a business. Imagine you’re the CEO of a struggling company. Would you dismiss the insights of your frontline employees, the ones who engage directly with customers and understand the product intimately? Of course not. So why, as coaches, do we hesitate to ask our players for their input?
This raises an important question: Why do we, as soccer coaches, have such a hard time taking input, accepting criticism, or even allowing others to express their opinions? What is the root of this resistance? It’s a pervasive issue in this sport, and its impact is profound—it creates blocks and barriers to growth, innovation, and evolution.
The Illusion of Ownership
Another significant barrier to growth in coaching is the pervasive sense of ownership many coaches feel over their players. This mindset, though often unspoken, becomes most apparent when a player decides to leave a team or club in search of better opportunities.
Whether this opportunity involves a stronger developmental program, more playing time, or simply a better fit, these decisions are rarely taken lightly by players or their families. More often than not, the change arises from a genuine desire to improve and grow—or maybe just to be seen—just as anyone would seek a better school, tutor, place of employment, or mentor if their current environment wasn’t meeting their needs.
And yet, many coaches take these decisions personally. The focus shifts to how the departure impacts them and their team, rather than asking critical, reflective questions like:
Why are they seeking another team or club?
What are we not providing that they feel they need?
What have I done (or not done) that has contributed to this decision?
If this pattern repeats itself—if multiple players leave for similar reasons—it’s a signal that something deeper needs to be addressed. As a renowned spiritual teacher once said: “Things will keep showing up in our lives until we learn the lesson.”
This mindset shift requires humility and self-awareness. Rather than clinging to the illusion of ownership, coaches must see themselves as temporary guides in a player’s journey. Every player’s path is unique, and the goal is not to hold onto them indefinitely but to contribute meaningfully to their growth while they are in your care.
Ultimately, the question isn’t, “How could they leave?” but rather, “What can I learn from this?”
Psychological Safety and Creativity
Psychological safety is a cornerstone of successful teams. Google’s Search Inside Yourself Leadership Institute (SIYLI) program, which brings mindfulness, emotional intelligence, and leadership skills to people worldwide, discovered this through a landmark study: the #1 factor present within successful teams is psychological safety.
Do your players feel psychologically safe with you, your actions, and the culture you’ve created? Without this foundation, players may hesitate to express ideas, admit mistakes, or take the creative risks necessary for growth.
This ties directly to anxiety and creativity. Research has shown that the opposite of anxiety isn’t calm, peace, or happiness—it’s creativity. Where there is authentic creativity, it’s virtually impossible to experience anxiety.
Think about this in the context of your players. If they’re anxious during training or matches, ask yourself:
How have I created the conditions for this? Am I responsible?
How can I expect players to play freely and creatively if they’re operating from a place of fear or feeling scared?
When players feel psychologically safe, they are free to take risks, express themselves, and reach new levels of performance. Without it, they retreat into survival mode, playing cautiously and limiting their potential.
The Path to True Impact
To create real impact, coaches must embrace the uncomfortable truth: we are not the sole architects of success. Instead, our role is to foster an environment where collaboration and trust are essential.
This requires humility. It means setting aside our need to be right or in control and instead being curious, adaptable, and willing to learn—even from our players. It also means creating regular opportunities for feedback, whether through structured team discussions, one-on-one check-ins, or even anonymous surveys to ensure all voices are heard.
When we let go of ego, control, and the illusion of ownership, we make room for something far more powerful: a collective environment of trust, creativity, and mutual respect that unlocks the full potential of every player and coach.
First Step if the Above Resonates
Take a moment to reflect: Why are you coaching? What are your intentions for doing what you do? Are your actions aligned with those intentions? When we’re clear on our purpose and committed to creating environments of trust, support, and growth, both the players and the team thrive because the authentic you will be the one showing up. And once that happens… everything changes.
Parenting Athletes: How We Show Up for Our Children
As parents, we want the best for our children. We pour our time, energy, and emotions into supporting them, especially when it comes to their interests and activities, such as sports. However, it's crucial for us to pause and reflect on the impact of our involvement on our children's experiences.
From the child's perspective, the level of importance we assign to their activities can easily translate into pressure and expectations. Despite our loving intentions, our passionate cheering, endless hours of driving, and enthusiastic feedback at games can inadvertently burden our children with the weight of our expectations. Over my 30 years of working with children in sports, I've witnessed many who have lost their love for the game but feel hesitant to communicate this to their parents, fearing disappointment or a sense of disconnection.
It's essential for us as parents to regularly check in with our children's feelings of satisfaction, joy, and pressure regarding their participation in sports. Similarly, we must examine our own intentions and passions for their involvement. By journaling and asking ourselves why we want our child to play a sport, we can gain clarity on our motivations and ensure our actions align with our intentions.
Actions truly speak louder than words, especially in the eyes of our children. They observe how we show up at their games, how we communicate with coaches and other parents, and how we handle victories and defeats. It's vital for us to reflect on whether our behaviors reflect the supportive and nurturing environment we aim to create for our children.
Feedback and guidance from parents, no matter how well-intentioned, can often be perceived as judgment by our children. While it's natural to want to offer advice and opinions, it's crucial to resist the urge unless solicited. Instead, we should create space for our children to explore their interests and seek support on their terms. If there are moments where guidance is necessary, particularly concerning character or behavior, it's essential to approach these discussions with empathy and understanding.
As a coach, I've often served as a bridge between parents and children, offering guidance and support in a way that resonates with the child. This dynamic allows parents to step back and see their child's journey from a different perspective, relieving them of the pressure to intervene constantly. It's a symbiotic relationship that fosters growth and understanding for both parents and children.
If anything in this reflection resonates with you or raises questions, I encourage you to reach out for a free consultation. Together, we can ensure that our children's experiences in sports are filled with joy, growth, and love.
Compassionate Reflections from the Youth Soccer Sidelines
As I stood on the sidelines of a youth soccer game in Texas today, I found myself witnessing an unsettling scene unfold before my eyes. One team was dominating the field, leading by an overwhelming 14-0 in the second half. But what caught my attention wasn't just the score—it was the behavior of the parents on the winning side.
Like a pack of wild animals, they cheered relentlessly with each goal, their voices echoing with a mix of triumph and aggression. Phrases like "score 5 more," "don't stop now," and "give it to him" filled the air, creating an atmosphere of excess and dominance. With every cheer, it felt as though they were not just celebrating a game but reveling in their power over the opposing team and other humans.
As I observed this spectacle, a wave of compassion washed over me, not only for the children on the receiving end of this defeat but also for the parents who seemed oblivious to the impact of their words and actions. Did they ever stop to consider how their cheers might make the other children feel? Or the effect it had on the opposing team's parents?
But perhaps even more concerning was the message these parents were inadvertently sending to their own children. By celebrating such one-sided victories with such fervor, what lessons were they imparting? Were they teaching their children that power and dominance are more important than empathy and sportsmanship? That it's acceptable to walk over others for personal pleasure and success?
It's a sobering thought. Children are keen observers of the world around them, absorbing not just what we say but also how we behave. If they see the adults they love and trust the most in their lives demonstrating such behavior, what does that imply about what's acceptable?
What are we willing to sacrifice in the pursuit of victory? Even amidst the intensity of competition, it's crucial to remember that true success isn't solely defined by winning, but also by the manner in which we navigate both triumph and adversity.
So let us pause and reflect on the impact of our words and actions, both on the field and off. Let us strive to create an environment where all children feel valued and respected, regardless of the score. And let us lead by example, showing our children that true strength lies not in power over others but in humility, kindness, and compassion.
Amidst the intensity of the game, there was a moment of pure beauty that unfolded following the final whistle, with a final score of 20-0. As the 11-12-year-old children gathered, they exchanged hugs and handshakes, displaying a level of kindness and sportsmanship that was truly heartwarming.
It struck me deeply that despite the drastic differences in life experience and years lived, these young athletes could exemplify such compassion and respect for one another. It begs the question: why is it that children, who are still navigating the complexities of the world, can demonstrate these qualities with such ease, while the adults in roles of leadership and mentoring often struggle to do the same?
Indeed, youth sports would be radically different if it weren't for the presence of adults. Without the pressure of athletic careers lost or unfulfilled sports lives being projected onto the field, what would remain is pure joy, fun, play, and above all, kindness.
What saddens me most is the realization that many adults are not fully aware of the messages their behavior sends to the impressionable young minds watching, hearing, and experiencing them. Consider for a moment the impact of your words but mostly your actions as you cheer on your child and their team.
What if, in the midst of your yelling and screaming, your child interprets it as a sign that their performance on the field is directly tied to their worthiness of love and importance in your eyes? "If my mom or dad gets this upset and angry, it must be really important to them." What if they internalize the belief that they must be flawless every time they step onto the field, fearing that any mistake will diminish your love for them and subsequently their importance?
As parents, coaches, mentors, and spectators, we must recognize the immense power we hold in shaping the experiences and perceptions of young athletes. Let us strive to be mindful of the messages we convey through our behavior, and let us endeavor to create an environment where children feel supported, valued, and above all, loved for who they are, not just for their performance on the field.
As children progress in their sporting careers, the harsh reality sets in: their identity becomes increasingly intertwined with the sport they play. If a parent or guardian demonstrates that the sport holds excessive importance in their eyes, the child may feel that their entire identity is at stake every time they step onto the field.
It's no wonder then, that as children grow older and face challenges like making mistakes or struggling with the mental and emotional aspects of the game, they find it difficult to recover. The risk to their identity feels monumental, compounded by the words and actions of those closest to them.
The parent or guardian's role in shaping a child's sporting experience cannot be overstated. Every cheer, every instruction, every reaction sends a powerful message about what is valued and expected. As such, it's essential for adults to consider the long-term impact of their behavior on a child's sense of self-worth and identity.
Let us strive to create an environment where children feel empowered to explore and grow, both on and off the field, without fearing that their worth is contingent upon their athletic performance. After all, from my perspective, success lies in nurturing the holistic development of our youth, not simply the player.
In conclusion, I offer a suggestion that could relieve you from the burden of post-game dialogue while also providing your child with what they truly need to hear. Let's consider refraining from expressing our own emotions, feedback, and questions, and instead, opt for the simple phrase, "I love watching you play." These five words encompass everything a child craves: unwavering support, validation, and genuine admiration for their performance on the field.