where curiosity meets the charts

Earned Courage: When Women Lead Without Warning
This story explores what happens when women step into unfamiliar roles for the people they love — navigating nerves, resilience, and the quiet bravery that comes with coaching their own children on national stages. From unexpected leadership to front‑row moments of growth, it’s a powerful look at how women rise, adapt, and model courage in real time..
Allison Grabow
7/19/20263 min read


Stepping out of your comfort zone can be exciting, scary, and deeply uncomfortable. For women, that leap often comes with an extra layer of emotions—especially when you’re doing it for your children.
This year, I had the opportunity to coach both of my sons at National curling events. Curling is a unique sport in countless ways, but one of its core features is that teams form themselves. There are no tryouts or applications. You show up to events, make connections, ask others to play with you, or get invited to join a team. Once a team is formed, the next step is finding a coach. While not every event requires one, National events do. And with the expenses of curling—travel, equipment, uniforms, and time off work—hiring a coach isn’t always feasible. Finding someone who can commit to the travel schedule can be just as challenging.
One of my sons qualified for the USA Curling U18 Nationals with a team created solely for that purpose. Each athlete already had a spot on a U20 team but was still young enough to compete in the U18 division. They won their regional playdown and earned their place at Nationals. What they didn’t have was a coach. So I stepped in, relying on what I’d learned as a parent in the stands and from watching coaches interact with my kids over the years. I didn’t have all the technical knowledge, but I had watched thousands of curling ends, seen brilliant shots, witnessed smart strategy, and learned from communication breakdowns. Armed with the rules, the draw schedule, and advice from other coaches about sleep and meals, I headed to Denver. I sat on the ice with the other coaches, offered guidance when needed, and watched in awe as my team proved they belonged. They overcame missed shots, regrouped, and dug deep.
Two months later, my other son prepared for the USA Curling U21 Mixed Doubles Nationals in Cape Cod. Once again, both athletes on the team were already part of other coached teams with structured schedules and practices. This time, two of us coached—myself and the father of my son’s teammate. I brought my binder of notes, introduced myself to the officials, sat on the ice, and offered what I could. I had a front-row seat to some of the best curling I’ve ever seen. There were tough games, missed opportunities, great shots, and resilience. My advice stayed simple: control what you can control, work hard, and look forward. If you do that, you’ll walk away proud, no matter the outcome.
Here’s the twist. At the Mixed Doubles event, another mom was out on the ice coaching her daughter’s team. Their coach had been unable to attend, and since a coach was required, she stepped in. She had messaged me weeks earlier asking about the paperwork, and I told her I looked forward to seeing her there. She was nervous—worried about getting in her daughter’s head, wanting to help rather than hinder. I shared what I’d learned in Denver and encouraged her to ask the athletes what they needed from her. She did, and she arrived feeling nervous, but ready. As the event went on, she grew more confident. As moms, we never want to mess anything up for our kids—especially not on a national stage with eyes on us and them from every angle. It’s scary.
The nerves, the excitement, the heart palpitations, the anxiety of coaching your own child—it’s all enormous. Add being a mom on top of that, and you feel every high and every low right alongside them, in full view of the world. The sting of a missed shot, the thrill of an incredible throw, the emotional roller coaster you usually feel privately as a spectator becomes public. But that front-row seat is extraordinary. I watched both of my children earn silver medals at their events. The loss in the gold medal game was tough, but I saw them fight for every point and leave everything on the ice. They showed sportsmanship, grace, and respect for their opponents. The other mom watched her daughter earn a bronze medal and had her own front-row seat to that final win.
In the end, these experiences reminded me of something bigger than medals or standings. They showed me what happens when women step up—often quietly, often without preparation, often because someone we love needs us to. We fill gaps, we learn on the fly, we steady ourselves even when our hearts are pounding, and we show our children what courage looks like in real time. This season, another mom and I stepped into roles we never expected to hold, and together we helped our kids earn three National medals. But more importantly, we showed them—and ourselves—that women are capable of rising to any challenge. Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone isn’t just about personal growth; it’s about modeling strength, resilience, and possibility for the next generation.