Forty years ago, when Tessa Sanderson won gold at the 1984 Olympic Games, she became the first black British woman to do so.
In the years that followed, she remembers feeling the “buzz” of watching more black girls come up through athletics and start to compete, many hailing her an icon whose own record-breaking javelin success encouraged their participation.
So, why, four decades on, she wonders, are doors still closed to too many girls of colour entering sport in Britain?
Sanderson, 68, joins our video call from home, in east London, while her eleven-year-old twins, Ruby Mae and Cassius – adopted as babies by her and Olympian husband, Densign White, when she was 56 – are at school.
The CBE holder, who represented her country for more than 20 years, went to six Olympic games, won three Commonwealth titles and remains the only Briton to win gold in an Olympic throwing event. But despite what, on the surface, looks like four decades of progress since her landmark Olympic success, she says a participation gap still exists between girls and boys, and between black girls and their female peers.
Only 36 per cent of black girls meet Government activity guidelines, according to Sport England. They are 12 per cent less active and feel 14 per cent less supported to take part than white girls, according to Women in Sport – even though they have more positive attitudes to sport, higher confidence and more positive relationships with their bodies.
“A lot of black girls still feel too much that ‘this isn’t for me,’” says Sanderson. “That’s the saddest thing because it probably is. Women have fought to get to the forefront and we’ve improved a lot, but there are a lot more goals to achieve for black girls who are looking on. There has to be space for these girls in sport’s boardrooms and arenas. Society really needs to open up the doors.”
Sanderson was born in Jamaica and moved to Britain aged six, with her three siblings, following their parents who emigrated with the Windrush generation to find work. She grew up in Wolverhampton, in the 60s, where racism and playground slurs were a feature of her childhood. Her parents were focused on her studies but her own path into professional sport began with her school PE teacher who spotted her ability.
“She shared her passion for sport with me so I could carry on outside classroom hours. She came to my house to explain to my parents what I was capable of. I think we are missing that today, instead expecting teachers with other specialisms to take on PE. It devalues it and the passion is not passed on. There are many more opportunities to be active and healthy than there were but the idea of going outside after school, into the playground, to kick a ball or play netball in a group where girls could be with their girlfriends, through sport, has taken a step back.”
Sport England figures show school age girls are 7 per cent less active than boys. Despite the support thrown behind Team GB’s female Olympians, expected again in Paris this summer, and the success of the Lionesses and England rugby’s Red Roses inspiring more into team sports, Sanderson says society still leaves too many girls feeling sport is neither pretty nor cool and fails to hammer home the health benefits, over and above the pull they feel to look perfect, particularly on social media.
The government, she says, must do more to make sport more accessible to all girls and black girls, in particular, who disproportionately inhabit more deprived areas.
“I would like to see a genuine intervention,” she says. “If parents are working long hours, taking their daughters to sports is hard. These parents would love to be able to access gyms and sport provision without paying for their girls and they are concerned about safety, too, frightened to let their daughters go out in the park to play. One has to be mindful of all of this. We need real access.”
When Sanderson won gold, in Los Angeles, throwing a record-breaking 69.56 metres, she did not, initially, realise it was a first for black British women.
“The whole realisation came through for me when I came back from the games. I saw so many black girls start to compete. That gave me a massive buzz. A lot of them had me as their icon.” Her icon had been Sonia Lannaman, the black British 100 metres champion who won Olympic bronze at the 1980 Moscow games. The pair remain lifelong friends. “People like her, or Mohammad Ali – I carried their image in my head, that if you see a black person doing it I felt I could do it.”
Nonetheless, she has spoken, in the years since, about feeling overlooked as a black woman – and how more resources were put into white athletes, even once she was a champion. The lack of commercial opportunities meant she worked as a typist even while competing at the highest level.
The determination that has driven Sanderson in sport has supported her to reach personal goals, too. Sanderson met her husband, the British judo competitor, in the canteen at the 1984 Games but the pair didn’t date until she was 50, by which time she had already endured two failed IVF rounds in her bid to become a biological mother. “I grew up in a loving and warm environment with other children in my family. Seeing this I knew I could be a good mother,” she remembers of her hopes for a family. When she and White were approved to adopt, she says: “Once I feel confident within myself about whatever I’m realistically looking to do, I’m happy to try without letting age be a barrier. I was confident, having my husband, who shared my own feelings and was 100 per cent supportive. Also knowing I had kept my mind and body very healthy and fit over the years to meet all the active requirements that would be needed to adopt a child.”
Sport is part of their household, as you might expect: her son plays football and her daughter enjoys swimming: “We try to instil the fun element which is togetherness, meeting with friends and keeping active. We don’t expect our children to be Olympians. We’ve educated them about being healthy and exercise.”
This summer’s Olympics will mark four decades since Sanderson cemented her place in history. For her daughter’s generation, she wants to see those values that drove her inspire leaders to deliver a level playing field. She says: “I want to see more black girls more actively involved in sport in and out of the required school hours in order to stay healthier and fitter. If they show exceptional talent in a competitive way or are knowledgeable in sport, I would like to see equal opportunities, including sports managers, board members and decision makers, at a high level. I want us to close the gap. I want for black girls to feel more confident in selecting those careers and equally comfortable mentally and physically enjoying sport as part of their everyday lives.”
Tessa Sanderson is an ambassador for Women in Sport