P2P No. 18 — Coxswain, not in vain

On rowing, mentorship, teamwork, and asymmetric relationships

Fear, misconceptions, and prejudices are woven into the fabric of life. In professional relationships, lack of experience can hinder seeing the forest from the trees. Specific behaviors from above or below the hierarchy can earn frowns. Self-reflection, an otherwise helpful tool, might not bring us forward since the quandary we face early in our careers is the lack of experience as a manager, supervisor, or mentor.

To add insult to injury, most relationships occur in a chaotic world without clear rules; this multifaceted nature makes it more difficult to peel back the layers of our ignorance and realize the true nature of such relationships.

My brush has more optimistic colors, though: sports provide a controlled environment where clarity comes easier. You win or lose. You score, or you don't. You are faster, stronger, or not. Though simple things are not necessarily easy, diving into team sports can yield long-lasting takeaways from managing expectations and our attitudes for a multitude of bilateral and asymmetric relationships.

The collaborative nature of team sports is the best laboratory to explore asymmetric relationships. Until this January, I did not have experience with team sports, apart from the occasional PE class in high school. And although I worked in teams during my studies, I reckon in research projects, my self-reflection about team structure and roles was insufficient. In short, I did not transcend my autopilot to adapt my behavior to maximize team performance consciously. Not that I did not want to, but contemplating the point eluded me.

Luckily, the tide changed when I started my research exchange at the University of Cambridge last October, where I also became a visiting member of Darwin College. This namedropping only lets you know to whom I attribute the credits. In that part of Albion, rowing is the stereotypical sport, which piqued my interest to give it a try. Since I appeared out of thin air after the term had started, I had limited options. That is, exactly one: I could not join as a rower, but the men's captain at Darwin College Boat Club offered to become the coxswain (or cox for short; i.e., the person who steers the boat) of the second men's boat—my first thought: sitting still in the boat without getting any exercise is a NO-brainer.

Nonetheless, the leave-it-or-take-it option induced sufficient fear of missing out to give it a try. Then, my preconceptions about what being a cox entails got destroyed in the nick of time.
First, as a cox, you are in charge of the boat: your job is to make the time on the water well spent for the rowers. Which, given that the Cam is exceptionally narrow and crowded with college crews, requires assertivity—and assertive I was not. That being said, you can predict what happened the first time I coxed the crew: I steered the boat into the riverbank (a few times), earning a spot for us at the local rowers' meme account, Rowbridge (if you could use some laughing, also check this and this memes about yours truly). My subpar performance made me seriously think about abandoning coxing: disastrous performance and lack of exercise were seemingly good reasons why I should not have been there. What I did there is best described by Seneca's famous line:

We suffer more in imagination than in reality.

What I was fearing was letting the team down, accompanied by thoughts of being unworthy of the immense appreciation and kindness I received. Destroying the practice by sloppy steering has not felt like the right way to pay back the crew's trust. For some reason, I have not quit in the end, which I cannot explain why, nor can I show any badge of honor I collected on my journey as a cox.

Nonetheless, coxing has taught me lessons that go far beyond rowing. First, the crew's trust in me was unbelievable—despite that training me was a sunk cost: a lot of effort with short-term-only benefits for when I first write these lines on March 31, my exchange and my role as a cox came to its end. Second, the kindness and support I received were unfathomable—with yours truly as the perfectionist on board, I needed to swallow the toad that the grain of truth eliciting such a relationship emphasized the indispensability of every member that was a situation unbeknownst to me. Third, I became more assertive, which was a welcome experience and reminded me about the plasticity of one's personality. Fourth, I believe I have grown as a person, especially in a—I dare to say—leadership sense.

Working alone means that in case of failiure you are the only one hurt. But on a teamnot giving your best can lead to the whole team failing,

and letting others down is something I cannot accept. This made me realize why I prefer teamwork in my Ph.D.: I cannot let my guard down on a team. Yes, it is a constraint, but a welcome one that propels me forward almost automatically.

The fifth and last point exemplifies how one can take the best out of asymmetric relationships: by being aware of the roles and contributions of each party. I experienced this as an occasional rower, where I could assess my relationship with the cox and take mental notes about an effective strategy and what was not.

However unrealistic it might be to jump back and forth from being the "leader" (cox) to being the "subordinate" (rower), this happens to all of us on a more coarse-grained scale. We start our careers as subordinates, then advance to leaders. But beware the boss who forgot how life was as a subordinate.

The second benefit is realizing that everyone can learn from an asymmetric relationship despite any hierarchy: rowers guide the cox about what calls are effective, whereas the cox provides feedback to the rowers to improve their technique. The perfect amalgam of the symbiosis of cox and rower was the stroke (the rower who faces the cox) in our boat. He is both a rower and a cox; he accelerated my learning with both perspectives since he knew what makes rowers tick and how effective coxing is.

Until now, I focused on the rowers and the cox, but a team also consists of coaches.

Since having access to mentors who are invested in your growth are non-trivial in most walks of life, this another clear cut in sports should be a reminder to seek out, value, and leverage such relationships. When others sacrifice their time and effort for your growth, the only appropriate conduct is careful listening and gratefulness.

Thus, my parting thoughts can only revolve around gratitude and appreciation. I know that I am not there, and not just in coxing. Nonetheless, I could not have felt more appreciated and valued than as a Darwin College Boat Club member. What else can you feel when everyone took the extra mile to ensure that my last session as a cox will be the last memory I have on the final morning of my exchange?