Gun Violence and Sports Violence: Power Plays with Devastating Outcomes

On December 14, 2012, shortly after the violence at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut, a mother named Sharon Watts started a group called "One Million Moms 4 Gun Control." By the end of February, 2013, the group had over 80 chapters across the country and at least one in each state. They also renamed themselves "Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America." Their mission is to get legislators to enact sensible gun laws to protect families.

As I watched that organization grow and get traction in the national conversation about violence in the U.S., I couldn't help but wonder if sports violence is a problem just as an insidious, but not as visible.

In a great piece authored by Ismat Abdal-Haqq for the ERICDigests.org (Educational Research Information Clearinghouse), he explores sports violence in our society. Two of his findings are that there are two types of violence in sports: instrumental and reactive. Instrumental violence serves a "purpose" within a sport -- to deliberately change the momentum of a game or take out an opponent. Reactive violence is when a player or coach loses control of his/her frustration and anger and lashes out at someone else.

Sounds a little bit like the difference between the fact that we train our military in gun violence (instrumental) and the ever-increasing occurrences of gun violence by frustrated, angry, sometimes mentally ill, people (reactive). At least with gun violence, one version serves a purpose. I'm not sure how either serve a meaningful purpose within sports.

When an athlete displays reactive violence by causing a fight, taking a cheap shot with the intent to injure, or verbally abusing an opponent, he or she is acting on the basic feeling of powerlessness.

Yes, powerlessness.

The build-up of frustration because the player can't control the official's calls, the opponents strong defense, a teammate's bungled play, or a coach's decision about playing time can erupt with lightning speed and with sometimes terrible consequences, ranging from penalties to life-changing injuries. All because a kid feels like he didn't get a fair shot.

Don't we also hear time and time again that gun violence is perpetrated by people who feel powerless? By kids or adults who were bullied in school, marginalized socially, and who suffered from feeling unloved? By newer, weaker gang members who have to participate in violence or risk bringing it on themselves or their families?

Then there's the whole question of our society glamorizing violence. There are many hundreds of "hardest hit" or "best fight" clips shown on sports channels. Many of those athletes best known for their in-game violence (Derek Boogard, Junior Seau, etc.) were revered and paid handsomely for their aggression. Unfortunately, those particular athletes paid for that aggression with their lives, later. In terms of gun violence, how many movies, video games, and television shows are shoot-em-ups? A lot, I know, because there are stacks of them at my house, too.

Part of the mission of CHILL Manager is to promote sportsmanship. Part of promoting sportsmanship is taking on the challenge of reducing violence. But here's a sad truth from Mr. Abdal-Haqq:

"...these negative outcomes of sports involvement are caused by adults, particularly parents and coaches. Lip-service is paid to sportsmanship and having fun, but rewards are reserved for winning. Often, encouragement to pursue victory is accompanied by direct and indirect signals that aggressive behavior is acceptable to achieve it. Hellstedt also suggests that anxiety about winning impedes performance and makes players more susceptible to injury. Physicians have noticed an increase in sports-related injuries in children (Hellstedt, p. 59).
http://www.ericdigests.org/pre-9214/sports.htm

I'm a season ticket holder for my local National Lacrosse League team, the Minnesota Swarm. Last year I nearly gave up my tickets for good because the violence on the turf was disgusting and I was embarrassed that I encourage kids and families to attend games. I tried to cover my daughter's eyes during one game because the punching and blood-spattering was sickening and at least at the level of an R-rated movie. The team finished strong, though, and my resolve to take a stand weakened. I paid lip-service, but didn't follow through because it was fun to watch the team win.

This year, I attended a game and there was a first-time spectator sitting behind me. The entire game he yelled at the players when they backed off from the fight. "I want my money back," he said one time, only half-joking. But later, "There you go, hit him--kill him!" he said when a fight finally broke out for good. And he wasn't the only one. Little kids in the crowd chanted "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as the punches were thrown and cheered wildly for the players who trotted off to the penalty boxes. I wondered, again, how it is that even little kids think it's great to encourage people to fight.

People who know me know that I hate the fighting in sports. I joke with them that I'm just not wired with that code. Sometimes I joke that it's a "man gene," even though that's not fair to many men I know. Sometimes I blame it on being a mom because I don't want my sons to think that violence is the answer when they're frustrated (so far, so good) and I don't want my daughter to become so immune to violence that she doesn't know when to escape from it. But mostly, the violence just scares me.

I don't think I'm a lone voice, though. And I no longer think I need to make excuses for my reticence to accept violence in the sports experiences that are supposed to shape our youth into responsible, contributing adults.

So what are the "devastating outcomes" of not addressing violence? In sports, it's physical injury, psychological injury, and disconnection from community. In the world of gun violence...sadly, we know all too well what those outcomes look like. Is the result of not dealing with sports violence partly to blame for gun violence? That's probably not out of the realm of possibility.

There may not be a million moms (or dads) out there who agree with me, but surely there are one or two. Are you one? If so, join me in the conversation.