This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Twanna Harris, the founder of League of Industry Moms. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I’m a mom to two athletes. Between my husband and me, we have four kids, two sons and two daughters. William, my oldest, has played for the Washington Commanders for seven years. My son Trey is what we call our “next kid up.” He is at Sam Houston State University, and he’s started training for the NFL draft.
My husband played in the NFL, so I believe our family is uniquely equipped to navigate this process and provide structure and discipline.
However, there were things that surprised me, even though I was not expecting them.
I didn’t realize the financial and emotional stress of having a kid play in the NFL
Injuries are actually the last thing I’m worried about.
I am the one who has guided my sons to where they are today. I researched programs, coordinated the move to other schools when necessary, identified trainers, researched colleges that provide the best opportunity, and provided the necessary financial, emotional, and mental support to properly navigate the transition from high school to college, in preparation for making it to the pros.
When going through that transition, I felt like the sentiment was, “Thanks so much for your contribution, but we’ll take it from here.” There weren’t conversations with us parents about how to navigate and sustain salaries once they went pros, for example.
Additionally, I didn’t get any coaching or direction on how to choose the best advisor or counsel for your athlete’s specific situation.
I knew I wasn’t the only mom who felt this way, so I did something about it
I helped one of my sons go through a rough patch, which had isolating moments, and I knew I couldn’t be the only mother trying to figure this out by myself. This drove my desire for community, and after speaking with numerous mothers of athletes, I quickly realized that what I experienced was more of the norm than the exception.
Because there’s no blueprint or guidebook, I launched my collective, League of Industry Moms, to crowdsource support and resources to help us navigate this terrain together.
We look into everything from media training to financial literacy, such as how kids should set up their finances for when they are 50, and helping them understand the significance of their spending for the next five years.
Parenting athletes is not the same as parenting a kid
Typically, a kid is not celebrated daily for their job. But because my kids are athletes, they are — and are receiving death threats at the same time. Nothing feels real anymore, and it feels like everyone’s coming to get a piece of your child. One day, we’re in this together as a family, and the next, your kid is saying, “Hey Mom, I’m an adult now, I don’t need your permission to take a $425,000 check.”
Because they are legally adults, there’s no requirement for brands to speak with parents. There can be a false sense of reality here because, early on, players receive a substantial amount of resources, attention, and money. There’s no player association or union, so I’ve partnered with an organization called athletes.org to make sure we are educating parents going through this.
I just want the best for my kids, and I know other moms do too
My husband and I have raised our kids to be extraordinarily independent. The whole point is to raise kids to be self-sufficient, but this is a different kind of survival. Someone whose frontal lobe has yet to develop is being handed a check for millions, and they are expected to have the wherewithal to know what to do with that.
The most important thing my husband and I wanted to teach our athletes is the art of listening and the discernment gained through that process to detect when someone might be motivated by the wrong intentions or when something they are saying simply doesn’t sound right.
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