{"id":41806,"date":"2026-07-20T10:22:17","date_gmt":"2026-07-20T10:22:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/tennis\/41806\/"},"modified":"2026-07-20T10:22:17","modified_gmt":"2026-07-20T10:22:17","slug":"what-it-takes-for-moms-inspired-by-serena-williams-to-return-to-sports","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/tennis\/41806\/","title":{"rendered":"What it takes for moms inspired by Serena Williams to return to sports"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Ruby Griffin is the family\u2019s most seasoned tennis player. She\u2019s been taking lessons for half of her life, so on court at the Burbank Tennis Center<\/a>, Ruby, 5, happily shows her mom, <\/p>\n

Castro, the proper forehand position. Hold the racket up and stand, as the coach says, like a surfer balancing on a board.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s the tennis girly,\u201d says Castro, 42, of Toluca Lake. \u201cSo, I\u2019m taking a back seat, and she\u2019s being the leader to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this new Mommy and Me tennis class, caretakers aren\u2019t just dropping off their kids \u2014 they are dropping into the game and staging their own personal comeback stories. Castro was once a dancer and a cheerleader. But when Ruby was born, her entire identity shifted to motherhood. Coming back to her own self has taken time.<\/p>\n

\"Jacqueline <\/p>\n

Jacqueline Castro runs warm up drills.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere I am,\u201d Castro says, looking out at the tennis court. \u201cBaby steps.\u201d<\/p>\n

In this class, Hello Kitty-emblazoned shirts and tiny Dodgers hats are the highest tennis fashion statements. Some participants, as young as 3 years old, can barely see over the net. And when Coach Chessa Mehlman asks a young player to show off his forehand, he sits on the racket. Wimbledon, this is not.<\/p>\n

But these two events share unexpected connective tissue \u2014 moms seeking to expand their athletic identities. At least six mothers competed in the Wimbledon women\u2019s singles draw this year, including Serena Williams, Naomi Osaka, Elina Svitolina, Taylor Townsend, Belinda Bencic and Tatjana Maria.<\/p>\n

1 <\/p>\n

\"Dej <\/p>\n

2 <\/p>\n

\"Nicole <\/p>\n

1. Dej Tobolowsky with her daughter, Dior, 6, during a Mommy & Me tennis class. 2. Nicole LeVine with her son, Roman, 7, during a Mommy & Me tennis class. <\/p>\n

On her return to Wimbledon before her injury, Williams said in a personal essay <\/a>she was motivated by motherhood. \u201cIf I did return, it would be about experience, about sharing the moment with my kids. Maybe even a small moment where I can say, \u201c\u2018Look \u2014 this is what Mommy used to do.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

The Wimbledon moms offer a spectacular version of a quieter question confronting many caregivers: What does it take to keep, reclaim or expand an athletic life after children? For many women, the obstacle is not a lack of desire. It\u2019s the infrastructure around it: childcare, time, money, bodily recovery and a place where being rusty is allowed. In her first-round loss, Williams displayed powerful serves while her daughters Olympia and Adira Ohanian looked on. A knee injury would cut Wimbledon short<\/a>, but the 44-year-old hinted at another comeback afterward.<\/p>\n

Kimberly Foon took a decadeslong pause from tennis \u2014 a sport she loves \u2014 when family life and career consumed most of her time. The Mommy and Me class is a great compromise, says Foon, 49, who lives in Pasadena. She approaches the net with her son Ian Foon, 4, and readies the racket to swat away water balloons \u2014 a perfect antidote to a hot summer day.<\/p>\n

Upon impact, the balloons explode, drenching both mom and son. They squeal in delight and run back to the line to wait for another turn.<\/p>\n

1 <\/p>\n

\"Kimberly <\/p>\n

2 <\/p>\n

\"Tasia <\/p>\n

1. Kimberly Foon with her son, Ian, 4. 2. Tasia Smith with her daughter, Harlow Dixon, 5. <\/p>\n

Lowering the barrier to entry<\/p>\n

In Los Angeles, parent-child classes are abundant, but Mehlman\u2019s tennis class is different in emphasis. It grew out of watching mothers sit on the sidelines of their children\u2019s lessons and yearning for a way to get on the court themselves. Mehlman, 31, a former Ithaca College athlete whose own tennis journey was sidelined by injury, knows something about comebacks. So she lowered the barrier of entry for moms. She hopes to make the Burbank Mommy and Me tennis class a monthly fixture.<\/p>\n

\"An <\/p>\n

An adult tennis racket and a child\u2019s racket rest on the court.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think the moms are often much more into it than their kids,\u201d says Mehlman. Caretakers with little ones can RSVP when the monthly schedule is posted on Instagram.<\/a> <\/p>\n

At last week\u2019s class, high-fives and hair-styling tips were generously distributed between thwacks of tennis balls. Moms trade stories about dance classes and kid-friendly restaurants. Some are tennis novices while others, like Foon, are coming off a long pause. Many repeat the same sentiment: It feels good to move and hold a racket again \u2014 or for the first time.<\/p>\n

The class is casual, but the need it answers is not. Once parenthood begins, societal expectations often decenter a mother. She stops being the main character in her own story, says Victoria L. Jackson<\/a>, a sports historian and co-director of the Great Game Lab<\/a>, a research entity at Arizona State University.<\/p>\n

\"Coach <\/p>\n

Coach Chessa Melman leads stretches with mothers and their children before class.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s not a coincidence. For generations, athletes have been treated as if motherhood stamps their athletic identities with an expiration date. Williams named that tension in 2022 when she announced she was \u201cevolving away<\/a>\u201d from tennis to expand her family \u2014 a choice, she pointed out, that is rarely framed the same way for her male counterparts.<\/p>\n

Williams\u2019 announcement gave the conflict a modern frame, but the question of whether mothers belong in sport has been argued for generations. Women were first allowed to compete in track and field at the 1928 Amsterdam Olympics. But false reports about exhausted runners after the first women\u2019s 800-meter race helped justify the exclusion of this women\u2019s race until 1960<\/a>. That year, Wilma Rudolph<\/a> became the first American woman to win three gold medals in track and field in a single Olympics. At the time, Rudolph was a mother.<\/p>\n

To Jackson, a Mommy and Me tennis class like this one fits into a longer history of women finding their own way into sports before larger systems make room for them. Change often starts locally, she says, with people solving the problem in front of them. Over time, those small solutions can help shift what\u2019s possible.<\/p>\n

1 <\/p>\n

\"Alysia <\/p>\n

2 <\/p>\n

\"Alysia <\/p>\n

1. Alysia Montano runs in the Women\u201ds 800 Meter opening round during Day 1 of the 2017 USA Track & Field Championships at Hornet Satdium on June 22, 2017 in Sacramento, California. (Andy Lyons \/ Getty Images) 2. Alysia Montano runs in the opening round of the Women\u2019s 800 Meter on day 2 of the USATF Outdoor Championships at Hornet Stadium on June 26, 2014 in Sacramento, California. (Andy Lyons \/ Getty Images) <\/p>\n

\u201cSports is a microcosm of what\u2019s happening in the world,\u201d says Alysia Monta\u00f1o, a seven-time national champion and Olympic bronze medalist in the 800-meter,<\/a> who became one of the most visible athletes to challenge the idea that pregnancy and motherhood make women less valuable in sports. Monta\u00f1o famously raced pregnant<\/a> \u2014 twice.<\/p>\n

In 2019, Monta\u00f1o pushed back<\/a> against sponsors and sports culture that still treated motherhood as a liability rather than a natural part of a woman\u2019s professional journey. Now, she\u2019s founded For All Mothers+<\/a>, a nonprofit that supports mothers with resources, research and services such as childcare grants<\/a>.<\/p>\n

The next round of grant recipients, to be announced July 20, will receive $2,000 for childcare, free training gear and resources. In the last two years, 75 mothers have received childcare grants or, as Monta\u00f1o describes, the \u201copportunity to be whole.\u201d<\/p>\n

Recent research<\/a> shows that women still carry most of the childcare duties that keep family life moving. To train and compete, a mother needs someone to hold their baby.<\/p>\n

\"Nicole <\/p>\n

Nicole LeVine practices with her son, Roman, 7.<\/p>\n

Confronting the \u2018motherhood penalty\u2019<\/p>\n

There is a name for the cost women pay when motherhood makes them seem less ambitious or capable: the motherhood penalty<\/a>. It shows up in the workforce in pay and promotions<\/a>, but also on the tennis court or running track. The flip side is societal pressure when they aim to be ambitious despite all the hurdles.<\/p>\n

Stephanie Johannesmeyer knows this all too well. The Antelope Valley mom of Athena Johannesmeyer, 5, balances motherhood and her social services career with running clubs and races \u2014 all while managing chronic illness. Keeping up with the training and races requires the whole family to adjust, she says. Her husband is a government contractor who travels often, which means childcare is always part of the equation. In January, she ran the Disney World Marathon using a For All Mothers+ childcare grant.<\/p>\n

Throughout her fitness journey, Johannesmeyer, 35, has fielded criticism both from loved ones and on social media about her choice to dedicate time to running. Questions about her priorities as a mom have been whispered and shouted, so without hesitation, she answers. On her worst days, battling postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome<\/a> \u2014 POTS, a blood circulation disorder \u2014 she has struggled to get out of bed. She has also crossed finish lines with Athena cheering her on.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor me, maintaining that sense of self and identity helps me be a better mother. It helps to show [Athena] that even on days where we have weaknesses, we can embrace our strengths,\u201d Johannesmeyer says.<\/p>\n

At the tennis class, almost all moms echo versions of this sentiment: Dedicating time for themselves makes them better moms. When Roman LeVine, 7, eagerly swings at a water balloon, his mom Nicole LeVine pauses to take a video.<\/p>\n

\"Jacqueline <\/p>\n

Jacqueline Castro watches as her daughter, Ruby, 5, hits a water balloon.<\/p>\n

In addition to the Mommy and Me tennis class, Roman takes private tennis lessons. Will this be the sport that establishes his athletic identity? In motherhood, LeVine, 40, seeks to answer the same question for herself. Every week, she puts on her tennis outfits and heads to the courts to play with a small group. Recently, a tennis coach casually referred to LeVine as an athlete. It was the first time she heard herself described this way.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was like, \u2018Can you stop for a second? I\u2019m a theater kid. I\u2019m not an athlete,\u2019\u201d LeVine says with a laugh. \u201cBut now, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n