Written By, Vanessa Cole

April 13, 2025

If your social media algorithm follows high school sports and AAU, a recurring theme has likely emerged—frustrated coaches sharing posts about “entitled players” or parents pushing for more playing time. The underlying conflict comes from the differing vantage points & the depth of understanding that each party has on the student athlete(s) they are connected to or referencing. A common narrative that often projected through this conflict is that adversity builds character, and benching players or capping their performance time is a way to teach perseverance and "mental toughness". But what if this approach, while, most of the time, well-intentioned, fails to consider the most essential piece of a student-athlete’s growth—social and emotional development?

When coaches use silence, reduced or no-game playing time, further nonverbal cues or hollering as tools for discipline or development, it often stems from a traditional mindset. The belief is that withholding opportunity or shaming a young person builds grit and pushes them to “try harder”. However, this perspective assumes several things: that all athletes process or interpret the experience the same way, that they’re entering the game with the same motivations and challenges, and most critically, that coaches are trained to recognize and support a player’s psychological and emotional needs & growth in the same way they support physical performance.

This is where the conversation needs to evolve.

High school athletics is not just a proving ground for elite prospects—it’s a foundational experience for all types of students, many of whom will never play beyond high school. For these young people, the game is a place to belong, to build confidence, to develop discipline and social skills that translate far beyond the court, pool or field. Coaches, whether they realize it or not, are not just athletic instructors. They are mentors. Role models & key players in a young person’s development. But they are often underprepared and under-resourced when it comes to supporting the social-emotional side of that responsibility.

Consider the neurodiverse student-athlete, many of whom already persevere simply by entering the hyper-stimulating environment of a gym, pool or stadium. Without an understanding of the emotional regulation that takes place for this athlete to just show up, a coach might misinterpret a moment of withdrawal, mistake or tension as a lack of toughness or readiness—and respond in ways that unintentionally further erode confidence, especially over time working with the individual. Therefore, rather than building resilience, the coach can push the individual past their emotional boundaries, leading to burnout, depression, or quitting the sport. In some cases, leaving uniquely superior contributions untapped simply due to the misguided approach-- a cost too great for society to bear. 

Or think about the student-athlete using sport as an emotional refuge—an escape from trauma or hardship at home or elsewhere. A coach unaware of this context might reinforce adversity at the very moment the student most needs affirmation. In this case, the game, which has the potential to be healing, becomes another space of disempowerment.

What’s more, there is often a disconnect between why a coach is in the game and why a player is. A coach might be driven by competition, development of elite talent, or even career advancement. A player, on the other hand, may be there to build friendships, stay active, explore & chase a dream, or simply find belonging. When coaches project a single definition of “what it takes” onto a group of diverse young people, they miss the opportunity to recognize and cultivate other forms of leadership, discipline, and excellence.

This is not a discredit of coaches. It’s a call to invest in them.

If we want better outcomes for student-athletes—on and off the court, field or water—we need to support coaches with the training, tools, and time to understand the whole athlete. That includes social-emotional learning, trauma-informed practices, and individualized development strategies. We also need to redefine what toughness really looks like. Sometimes, it’s speaking up. Sometimes, it’s just showing up. And sometimes, it’s seeking guidance or direction in nonverbal ways that require effective interpretation.

High school athletics needs to evolve as an opportunity to build stronger players and stronger people. And that starts with coaching systems that span across the ecosystem and receive the support they deserve, so that coaches are equipped to honor the complexity of the young lives they shape every day in partnership with parents and educators.