The voices sports leaders fear: Why survivors must be part of the fight against abuse

“You are EXTREME in your views on child abuse!” 

The words flew at me like a crushing punch to the gut. I felt the air rush out of my lungs. It was an accusation levied by a senior sports executive in the months after I submitted a ten-page document detailing how little girls were slapped in the face, repeatedly yelled at, humiliated, called fat, stupid and ugly, had their hair pulled and bottoms pinched, and were forced to train on broken growth plates and other injuries. 

Weren’t those actions extreme? A dozen hurt little girls thought so.

It was for those children and an intense desire to end child abuse in gymnastics that I joined a provincial sports board, followed by a national sports organisation board. But it wasn’t enough. These governance roles highlighted for me how deeply entrenched toxic sports culture was and how useless the existing feeble policies were at protecting participants. A more disruptive, public-facing approach was needed. 

What I rarely shared was my own experience with maltreatment in sports. I remember vividly how it stung to be yelled at, looked upon with disgust, terrified into performing skills, forced to train on injuries and have my weight graphed then posted on the wall. 

It wasn’t until a fellow board member dismissed the documentary 'Athlete A', as a “sensationalised version” of what happens in gymnastics that I knew it was time to find my voice as a survivor.

I remember my heart pounding and a sudden wave of heat surging through me as I gathered my courage and responded, “Actually, I lived that version of gymnastics as a teenager.” 

It is difficult to request a seat at the decision-making table

I appreciate how hard it is to request a seat at the decision-making table. It’s even more difficult to sit at that table, month after month, constantly disrupting the status quo with demands for transparency, accountability, and change. 

Disruptors accept being labelled “troublemakers” or “rogues” and told to “mind your own business” because we hope to spare future athletes from harm. As impacted persons who were once athletes, we know what’s at stake. We’ve worked in, played in, and navigated the very systems in need of reform. We know firsthand the damaging impact of power imbalances, inequity, injustice, human rights violations and abuse. 

Why is this important? 

Because sport is rotting from the top down and the bottom up. 

The signs are everywhere. The model is broken. The way sport has “always been done” is not working. Children are being hurt, athletes are enduring toxic, dehumanising conditions, and scandal after scandal keeps surfacing. 

A key step in addressing this issue is including survivors in the decision-making process, allowing them to shape policy reform and lead the way toward safer sports. 

Impacted persons have always been the missing voices. Their expertise, acquired through lived experience, merits a pivotal role in co-creating meaningful solutions. Without their involvement from inception to evaluation, new governance efforts will fail as they have for decades.

If we want things to change, we need to change who is being listened to and act on what they are calling for.

Sports organisations are reluctant to include survivors

Sport has been slower than other sectors to change and reluctant to invite survivors to co-create policy alongside other industry experts with an equally influential seat at the table.

Even being a four-time Olympian with a master's degree in sports ethics and integrity does not guarantee an easy invitation to the decision-making table. Joanna Maranhão, coordinator of the Athletes Network for Safer Sport, acknowledges that organisations are starting to consider engaging impacted people. 

However, no mandates exist to compel sports organisations to include input from survivors in any formalised way, so many don’t. 

Maranhão explains:

"With no structural reforms on the horizon, there’s no telling when survivor engagement to co-create policy will be the norm. This is key because simply listening to impacted individuals in a meeting, or two, versus actually implementing the changes being called for, are two very different things."

She goes on to clarify:

"We’re not suggesting survivors have all the answers or that there’s no room for discussion. We are open to dialogue and willing to understand the challenges that sport governing bodies face when implementing certain measures. But without us, there will be no effective solution.”

The approach Maranhão has chosen is to listen for obstacles, problem solve and then push for the engagement of diverse people with lived experience. 

"It cannot be just one civil society organisation, nor should it always be the same survivor representing lived experience. Our representation has its limits. There are harms that I may not fully grasp, which means there are solutions I might not think of."

Only by engaging with a diverse range of survivors from different backgrounds can we effectively address these gaps.   

Did World Badminton consult with athletes about new rules?

But the pathway for survivors to contribute their expertise is littered with obstacles. Perhaps because many sports organisations choose to act first, without consulting survivors or athletes adequately, then backtrack if the community expresses sufficient backlash. 

Take, for example, the tragic incident of 17-year-old badminton player Zhang Zhi Jie, who collapsed and died on the court at a major international tournament.

As far back as 2023, it was recommended to the Badminton World Federation (BWF) that they update their competition regulations on injury or sickness during a match.

Excerpt from Badminton World Federation's regulations

Progress must have been sidelined because on June 30, 2024, when urgent medical attention and lifesaving heroics were needed for a child in cardiac distress on the court, none were available. The coach was waved off, and it took 40 seconds for medics to reach Zhang. Why did it take the death of a child to spur further action? 

On November 9, 2024, the policy was updated and approved by the BWF Council. The new policy reads:

Medical Emergency Intervention – The Tournament Doctor is now allowed to enter the court without the direction of the referee in cases of suspected cardiac arrest or suspected concussion with blackout.

However, as a parent and former athlete, this policy still does not sit well with me. Who did BWF consult for the re-drafting of this policy? Did they ask parents, athletes or survivors to weigh in? Because I can’t shake the feeling that it does not go far enough to protect athletes. 

What if the doctor is on a lunch break? Is anyone else permitted to help a severely ill or injured athlete? Can a coach or parent run on to the court to start lifesaving procedures like CPR? I’m not convinced this policy is child or athlete-centric. Most importantly, would young Zhang be satisfied with the policy revision arising from his demise? 

Negligent GymCan leaders continue to 'fail up'

Policies that do not adequately protect athletes are prevalent and should be a major red flag for parents, coaches and athletes. They lead to organisations failing to uphold their duty of care, followed by cover-ups. Rinse and repeat. 

Take for instance, the numerous scandals surrounding Gymnastics Canada (GymCan) in recent years, including:

• multiple arrests of coaches - in 2018, 2018,  2022, and 2023
• forced resignations of top executives  in 2016, 2018, and 2023
• 600+ gymnasts signing an open letter declaring they were abused  
• a parliamentary hearing and intense scrutiny from two parliamentary committees over the mishandling of misconduct allegations. 

We all know by now that rooting out a few bad apples does not fix corrupt systems. Negligent sports actors continuously ‘fail up’ to more powerful positions because weak policy at every level does not demand better of them. 

This pattern of failing up is evident in gymnastics all the way up to the International Gymnastics Federation (FIG). In 2023, advocates, along with the most accomplished Olympians in Canadian gymnastics history, called for the Chair of Gymnastics Canada to step down, which he did. However, less than a year later he ran for and was elected to the FIG executive committee. Endorsement of the home country federation is required for this accomplishment. How did that happen?

In 2023, Ian Moss resigned as CEO of Gymnastics Canada after a 277-page report into allegations of abuse at GymCan was released a few weeks earlier. (Screenshot from a hearing in Canada's standing committee on the status of women).

I also wonder how many survivor advocates GymCan consulted on the recent appointment of a new interim CEO. A quick google search reveals a child sexual abuse scandal in British tennis under the same CEO’s watch and his swift resignation.

However, the GymCan scripted narrative tells us, “This appointment underscores GymCan’s commitment to cultural change and its dedication to advancing safe sport, individual well-being, and community development.” 

How exactly?

As a survivor, parent of a survivor, and former GymCan board member who resigned in protest over unresolved abuse allegations, I think it’s a fair question. In the spirit of “commitment to cultural change”, what exactly will be different and better in terms of child and athlete protection? 

Perhaps appointing someone with skills unique to sports, like child protection, child development, or human rights law, rather than a long history of employment in the system would be wise, given the Canadian sports system has been described as in an abuse crisis.

Did GymCan consult any of the brave survivors who have been harmed in gymnastics before making this appointment? More importantly, if survivors expressed reservations about the go-forward plan, would anyone listen? 

I hope GymCan hasn’t forgotten about the class action lawsuit against them for “failing to take appropriate steps to protect the athletes in their care and control”. 

Hopefully, GymCan and this interim CEO have learned some valuable lessons after the institutional failures they have been part of, but who knows? 

Rinse and repeat. 

Again. 

Changing the narrative with help from the media

Perhaps you’re wondering, how is sport still in this state? The answer is both simple and complex. Plainly said, those in power resist engaging survivors because they know, damn well, if survivors were at the table, they would expose the dark underbelly of abuse, corruption and cover-ups and there would be no choice but to address it. 

The complexity lies in no one knowing exactly how massive or ugly the monster truly is. This is very unsettling for many sports executives. But who among them is willing to put their neck on the line to do what’s needed to protect innocent children and athletes? To date, no one. 

Sport is a BIG money operation, estimated at more than 2.5 trillion US dollars. The long-term benefit of reform is immeasurable, but when it’s all about money, glory, and gold medals, it has been easier to wait out each storm rather than rise to remedy the rotting system.

Fortunately, there are entities outside of sports, changing the narrative on who should be heard and where expertise lies.

Traditional media outlets, for example, have played a substantive role in amplifying the voices of athlete survivors and elevating the value of lived experience. They provide critical pathways for revealing the truth.

Particularly in the sporting community, where the prevailing narrative depicts athletes triumphing against all odds, the shame and secrecy of abuse can rob survivors of their voices. 

However, sharing lived experiences is crucial for letting survivors know they are not alone. For the person telling their story, having control over which parts of their experience they share, how and when they share it and who supports them through the telling, can be empowering and healing.

Reflecting on the many experiences I had with media personnel, led me to sit down with expert story amplifier, Matt Galloway. His daily national radio show, CBC’s The Current, strives to "transfer information by telling stories, back and forth, to help people understand and learn. Stories that build empathy, curiosity, and connection."

Galloway and his team have amplified the voices of many athletes who experienced racism, gender-based violence, discrimination, institutional betrayal, and all forms of abuse.

Galloway knows that powerful stories can cause listeners to stop in their tracks.

"It’s most effective when there’s a human face on an issue – not an academic or a professional with an arm’s length perspective, but somebody who lived it and had actual skin in the game. When listeners hear the humanity in a story, it invites them to join the journey so they might connect with the greater purpose."

What are survivors hoping will come of their stories? Change. They want an active role in reforming sport to be a force of good, not harm. To do this, people with lived experience need a seat at the table.

Lived experience should merit a seat at the table

According to social justice attorney, Emily Austin, who focuses on systems change to end violence, “There is so much power in deciding who is allowed at the table.”

As senior policy and advocacy specialist for The Army of Survivors, Austin has watched sport limp along for decades, with inadequate governance, because those with lived experience have not been permitted to play an active role in co-creating policies. 

"For decades, policy has been developed by people whose education is the same, their language is the same, and their worldviews are aligned. With a homogenous group, policy creation goes smoothly, with few speedbumps to slow it down." 

Of course, easier does not mean better. From Austin’s perspective:

"Policymakers and stakeholders have a clear motive for excluding persons who might disagree with them or have a different worldview. They want to keep power where it already exists."

The answer then? Austin argues that we must push back against “the arrogance of the ivory tower” and recognise that lived experience, which doesn't necessarily show up in a university degree or on a resume, merits a seat at the table. She concludes:

"Inadequate policy is the outcome when the people most impacted by it, are not part of creating it."

In sports, there’s no shortage of leaders at all levels, whose drive to maintain power and control is fueled by one our least attractive human qualities, a fragile ego. 

Without strong governance, we see this play out in endless scenarios: suspended coaches having the audacity to turn up on the competition floor as volunteers, convicted sex offenders participating in the Olympics, sports contractors taking lucrative projects despite obvious conflicts of interest and club owners running for board governance positions while their own club is investigated for child abuse. 

Justification for these actions lies in the most dangerous words in sport: "We’ve always done it in this way." 

But it’s time for the old guard to make space for new thought leaders and new voices. It could be their greatest act of service.

We can’t keep ignoring the fact that policy impacts people and they should be at the forefront of its creation. Lived experience does not need to come with a fancy title or a lengthy resume. Their expertise can only be acquired through real-world engagement.

By excluding athletes and survivors from co-creating policies that affect them, we will continue creating systems disconnected from reality, out of touch with the needs and voices of the people they serve.

Impacted people want to see themselves and their experiences reflected in those who have authority and power.

I want to see identified survivors on boards, commissions, congressional task forces, and adjudication panels. Essentially, watchdogs present in the room who can relay information back to the survivor community and gather our input. 

Sport has the potential to connect us, unite us and humanise us. I dream of a time when sports organisations will have zero tolerance for abuse. 

Will this upend the entire system? Maybe. But we’re long overdue to shift the focus off winning for a moment. It’s time to sacrifice medals, so we can stop sacrificing athletes and children.