“No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance …”—Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972
It’s eye opening to see the wide cross-section of women drawn to attend the recent Title IX Today, Title IX Tomorrow conference at Stanford University, which was reflecting on thirty five years of Title IX history and where women’s athletics are headed.
The day-long event drew law and ethics professors, kinesiology experts, gender equity consultants, representatives from lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender student groups, and athletic directors from major California universities. It brought feminist tennis star, Billie Jean King, wheelchair athletes, young non-profit coordinators connecting inner city youth, college student coaches, and me—an uncoordinated weekend cyclist and writer. With women and men running and biking around the campus, and the university bookstore—with the largest women’s studies section I have ever seen—Stanford was the perfect backdrop for the conference.
Title IX was one of several amendments to the Higher Education Act; it created federal legislation to prevent gender discrimination in education programs. In only thirty-seven words, it restructured athletic participation options at American schools and created opportunities for 2.8 million high school women to play today. More than 166,000 women play on 8,700 women’s teams nationwide, and last year saw the highest number of women who have ever participated in intercollegiate sports. American colleges and universities now offer an average of 8.5 women’s sports compared to the 2.5 average offered in the early 1970s.
As an ‘80s baby, my weekend mornings alternated between soccer, tennis, dance, and cross-country track. A lack of hand-eye coordination was less than helpful, and I still shudder when I think of the only time I hit a double in a softball game, only to jump over first base and be sent home. But my extremely active mom stressed that when she was in high school, tennis and cheerleading were the only sports options for girls. I was no superstar, but the teams I was a part of taught me how to manage my time, learn from defeat, and set goals. Plus, I met my best friend playing third doubles.
My main recollection of Billie Jean King’s famous, “Battle of the Sexes” match years ago was disgust at the dancing girls who escorted King’s opponent: self-proclaimed male chauvinist Billy Riggs. In 1973, ninety million people worldwide watched the match (which she won, 6–4, 6–3, 6–3).
“I knew that if I was going to play against him, it was vital that I win to change the hearts and minds of people,” King told an audience primarily made up of women in their sixties and young athletes with ponytails. “It’s very clear that that match was about social change.” She took her role so seriously that she still occasionally wakes up at night wondering whether she’d actually played the match yet.
The sixty three-year-old creator of the Women’s Sports Foundation started a discussion with young Oakland tennis players on international microfinance projects and racial politics.
