Kara Eaker, a two-time world champion and alternate for the Tokyo Olympic squad, announced her resignation from gymnastics on Friday in a statement that was shared on Instagram and accused the University of Utah gymnastics programme and a particular coach of verbal and emotional abuse.
A month has passed since the Utah gymnastics team underwent an external examination by the legal firm Husch Blackwell, which led to Eaker’s departure and charges. The 45 interviews that made up the review revealed that some student-athletes felt “increased fear of failure” and pressure to keep their athletic scholarships as a result of head coach Tom Farden. As per the SafeSport Code and NCAA rules, it was also ruled that he did not commit “any severe, pervasive, or egregious” acts of emotional, verbal, or physical abuse or harassment.
Farden wasn’t fired by Utah. Instead, the school declared that it will put Husch Blackwell’s five suggestions into practise:
1. Establishing and administering a performance improvement plan for Coach Farden that includes leadership and emotional intelligence training for interactions with student-athletes, training in proper communication with them, and training in developing a positive team culture.
2. Maintaining support for the Student-Athlete Advocate’s job, which includes regularly keeping an eye on team practises and competitions and informing student-athletes of the advocate’s responsibilities so that she can serve as an impartial resource to resolve issues of student-athletes.
3. Attempting to incorporate parents in the gymnastics programme while maintaining FERPA and HIPAA compliance and upholding Athletics’ aspirations for student-athletes to gain independence.
4. Making sure that each and every prospective and current student-athlete is aware of the conditions of their athletic scholarships. The gymnastics scholarship model, which ensures one year of financial aid, may be replaced, although.
Below is a link to Eaker’s entire letter
I’m announcing today that I’m leaving the University of Utah gymnastics team, the sport of gymnastics, and my enrollment at the university. I really believed the University of Utah was a location where I could give back to the neighbourhood, be a valuable member of the gymnastics team, and be free to pursue my interests and future profession. As a result, I accepted an athletic scholarship there.
Throughout my two years of training with the Utah Gymnastics Team, I endured verbal and emotional abuse. My mental, emotional, and physical health have all suffered as a result. I had been visiting a college sports psychologist for a yearI’ve had suicidal and self-harming thoughts for a year and a half, and I now visit a new doctor twice a week since I can’t take care of myself. I recently received a diagnosis of severe anxiety, sadness, insomnia brought on by anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, and night terrors.
I was promised a “family” within this programme and a “sisterhood” with my teammates who would accept me, look out for me, and support me during the recruiting process. But after enrolling as a freshman, I was devastated to learn that I was training in a poisonous, hazardous, and unhealthy atmosphere.
have now reached a tipping point, and I’m speaking up for all the women who can’t because their minds are numbed and their bodies paralysed with terror. When terror takes hold, I too have periods of being immobilised. But I can no longer watch while abusers are still permitted to participate in sports and harm young women and girls.
I’ve discovered that it can be challenging to recognise verbal and emotional abuse, particularly when it’s subtle and passive-aggressive. Individual coach-athlete sessions were frequently the scene of the abuse. I would be segregated in a room with a domineering coach, the door locked, sitting quietly, and rarely able to speak as a result of manipulative, condescending, and sarcastic remarks.
The harshness was made worse by the fact that I had believed the University of Utah would provide me with emotional and physical safety, but instead I was attacked personally, humiliated, degraded, and yelled at until I started crying in front of the entire squad.
I was terrified by the coach’s loud and irate yells, “What the hell is wrong with you!” rather than receiving constructive criticism to help me better my skills. Why the hell are you doing that? “You had better get your shit together!” “Pull your head out of your ass!” is another. I was quickly silenced when I spoke up for myself and said, “I can’t work like this, I don’t do well when you yell at me,” with the fictitious justification that I had only been yelled at once in the previous two years. He would press me to concur despite the fact that it wasn’t true by asking, “Isn’t that fair?”
There was just one possible response: yes. I frequently heard that I didn’t care about the team and that I wasn’t trying hard enough to fit in with my peers.
It is impossible to speak up for oneself when a male coach suddenly bursts into anger, physically slams mats to the ground, and gets up in an athlete’s face to intimidate them. It feels like a knife has been plunged so deeply into my body by the words, and there is no way to get it out.
However, it is still acceptable in sports for a coach to manipulate, bully, and berate an athlete for being late to practise, taking extra steps on drills or dismounts, or being the reason a meet was lost. Other women have cried out for help, suffered horribly from this kind of abuse, and even died by suicide. Where is the freedom to have respectful discussions about problems? Where is the proper place for repentance for errors or sympathy for a student-athlete going through a challenging time? Even a coach’s text message sparked intense terror. I had a panic attack when I saw his name on my phone’s lock screen, suggesting a text.
As I thought about it, the university and the athletic department let me down as well. I set up meetings with members of the University of Utah sports department to report the verbal and emotional abuse and ask for support, but I was utterly ignored. There was no abuse, according to one administrator, who added, “You two are like oil and water, you just don’t get along.” It would be an understatement to say that I was stunned, and this is a great instance of gaslighting. So therein lays the issue—the populace and system in place are complicit.
I disagree with the conclusions of Husch Blackwell’s earlier analysis since it is at best incomplete. Because the report leaves out important details and supporting documentation and because the few descriptions it uses are wrong, I don’t think it has any credibility.
In my career as a gymnast, I have accomplished a lot. I put in a lot of work in my training, competed in numerous international contests for four years, and represented the United States of America. At the Pan American Games, I won two gold medals, at the World Championships, I won two gold medals and advanced to the beam final, and I’m an Olympic alternate for the 2020 Olympic Team. I am tenacious, diligent, and incredibly disciplined in my workouts.
I received praise for my talent, artistry, and breathtaking performances as a gymnast at Utah, scoring 9.95s and 10. Being among the top gymnasts in the world makes me happy. Physically, psychologically, or emotionally, I am not weak.
I firmly believe in the importance of safety and the force of the truth, and I want to help find a solution. In all sports, guys should cease abusing girls and women and threatening them. Additionally, I want to support women and girls in finding their voices so that together, we can change the world. I’m hoping that by speaking up, you’ll be able to spot the early warning signs of abuse and get assistance or report it. There’s power in numbers.