I love working with players at this level – helping them fall in love with the sport and realise how much they are capable of. Witnessing women celebrate the power of their bodies and the sisterhood they build in the contest. When I hung up my boots as a player, I wasn’t sure what my relationship with the sport would become, but getting out on the grass in my community has eased that transition. I love it, but I won’t be back next year.
This season was one of the most successful on the field. Our team made it back to the top division for the first time in nearly a decade. Two of our young ones played for the Farah Palmer Cup team and more still were selected for the development side. But as a coach, it was hard graft. My co-coach was one of many Wellingtonians affected by the change in Government priorities and the current cost of living crisis. Her hours, once stable, are now anything but, affecting her availability to get out on the grass. We did what we could – but we are volunteers. We need to put food on the table before a team on the field.
This juggling act in our team wasn’t helped by rising tensions at our club. We were back in the same old debate around how and when to recognise the achievements of our women. Players who had put in more years in than the club had kept records of being asked to prove their loyalty. Progress that was so hard-fought, now so easily undone. It’s hard to get excited about bringing more women into this environment if we are stuck having these conversations on loop.
Beyond my club, my local union and New Zealand Rugby don’t appear to have a plan for me. A graduate of the Ako Wāhine programme, I am now offered a chance to do my Level 1 coaching certificate in a collaboration between the two organisations. I have a World Rugby Coach Educator qualification that, in theory, would have me able to deliver this course, but instead I am asked to attend step one again.
I have been offered this Level 1 course annually for at least the last three years, having originally done it maybe a decade ago. When is Level 2 coming? Or better yet, Level 3? That used to be what the Ako Wāhine programme stood for. Its graduates are seen across the handful of high-performance coaching positions held by women in rugby. With this programme now repurposed to deliver what was already on offer, where will our women grow?
This question is important as we are seeing a steady decline in women coaches from the Farah Palmer Cup up. Last year, just 25% of coaching roles across these teams were held by women. The number of teams without a single woman on their coaching staff increased to five. The number of female coaches is set to decline further next year as Super Rugby Aupiki, which had been bucking the trend with a higher number of women coaching, has filled all bar one of its vacancies with a man.
My first coach in rugby was a woman who was a legend within our local scene, playing hundreds of club matches and representing Wellington with pride. I saw her, which is why my first coaching role was in high school – so other young women would see me. I don’t see myself in rugby’s current coaching pathways now. I’m just one fraction of a percent, but I know my experience isn’t unique. It is valuable, though. If only the game could see it.
