Introducing Your Kid to Club Volleyball: What I Wish I Knew Before We Started
It was 7:15 on a rainy Saturday in March, and my 12-year-old Lila was picking soggy Cheerios out of the bottom of her bowl, ignoring my question about what she wanted to do that weekend. She’d quit rec soccer two months earlier, after spending most of the last season picking dandelions on the sidelines and telling me it was “boring and too hot.” The crumpled flyer for local club volleyball developmental tryouts had been sitting in my junk drawer for a week, and I almost didn’t bring it up. I’d heard the horror stories: thousands of dollars in fees, out-of-state tournaments every other weekend, parents screaming at refs over 10-year-old serves. But I pulled it out anyway, and Lila shrugged and said “sure, why not.”
I dug out my old college volleyball shorts from the back of my closet; they fell to her knees, so she tied the waistband with a neon pink hair tie. We drove 10 minutes to the rec center, I dropped her off and sat in the parking lot eating a stale glazed donut I’d grabbed that morning, scrolling through the local parent volleyball group on Facebook. One mom was complaining about a $1,200 season fee for an elite team, and I almost texted Lila to come back out and get ice cream instead. But 10 minutes later, the coach texted the parent group that tryouts were running late, so I waited.
Two hours later, she pushed through the gym doors, her hair stuck to her neck with sweat, and she was grinning so wide her cheeks looked sore. “Coach let me set three times,” she said. “Even when I messed up the first two, she just told me to adjust my feet and try again.” I’d assumed club volleyball was only for kids who wanted to play Division 1 college ball, or parents who had extra money and time to burn. But when I talked to the coach after tryouts, she told me their developmental league for 11-13 year olds didn’t cut anyone, the season fee was $220 for six months, and we only had one tournament a month, all within 45 minutes of home. That’s less than I spend on Lila’s streaming services and takeout sushi in a month, honestly. So we signed up for the one-month trial they offered, just to test it out.
As a 7th grade teacher, I spend most of my days watching kids navigate group work and social pressure, so I noticed shifts in Lila pretty quickly. She’s always been the quiet kid, the one who lets other people make all the decisions because she hates disagreeing or drawing attention to herself. In class, she’d rather turn in a bad project that the group agreed on than speak up and suggest a different plan. But volleyball doesn’t work that way. If you don’t call the ball, no one knows you’re going for it, and you end up crashing into each other or letting it hit the floor. You can’t hide on the court the way you can hide in the back of a group project.
Two months in, their team was down 23-21 in the final set of a local tournament. The other girl who usually sets called a play that everyone had messed up three times already that game. Lila walked over to her, tapped her shoulder, and said “what if we move Mia to the back row, I’ll hit instead?” They did it, won the next two points, and took the set. After the game, I asked her when she got comfortable telling another kid what to do, and she shrugged and said “if I don’t say it, we lose. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Other parents at my school have asked me for advice about getting their kids into club volleyball, after I mentioned Lila’s experience. The biggest thing I tell them is that you don’t have to jump into the deep end first. The first question to ask any club before you try out is “do you cut players on your entry-level developmental teams?” If they say yes, keep looking. Almost every mid-sized town has at least one club that takes all new players, no matter their skill level, to build up the sport. Second, ask about tournament schedule and costs upfront. You don’t have to agree to travel across the state every other weekend if that doesn’t work for your family. Most developmental programs play all their games within an hour of home, for a fraction of the cost of elite teams. Third, always take the trial. Almost every program will let you pay for a week or a month of practice before committing to the whole season. If your kid hates it, you walk away, no harm done.
It’s not all perfect. Last month, Lila missed three serves in a row at a tournament, and we sat on the bleachers together while she cried into her water bottle. She said she was terrible, she wanted to quit, she never wanted to hold a ball again. I didn’t give her a big speech about sticking with things or working harder. I just handed her a gummy bear from my snack bag, and told her she could quit tomorrow if she still wanted to, but today we were going to finish out the tournament and get burgers after. She went back out for the next game, and by the end of the night she was laughing with her teammates and sharing fries in the car on the way home. She still misses serves all the time. She still complains about practice on days when she has too much homework and just wants to scroll TikTok.
A couple weeks ago, her group project for social studies was supposed to do a presentation on westward expansion. All the other kids in the group were leaning towards doing a basic slideshow none of them wanted to write. Lila suggested they split up the work, do a short skit instead, and assigned everyone parts based on what they liked doing. Her teacher sent me a note saying it was one of the best presentations in the class. I don’t know if Lila will play volleyball in high school, or if she’ll stick with it next year. Right now, it’s just something she does that gets her off the couch, lets her hang out with kids who like the same thing, and teaches her to speak up when she has an idea. That’s enough for me, for now.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Introducing Your Kid to Club Volleyball: What I Wish I Knew Before We Started