As part of the US Open’s celebration of 50 years of equal prize money for men and women, USOpen.org is featuring a series of essays from successful women in a variety of fields, each offering personal perspectives on the importance of equality as well as individual insights into the challenges they’ve overcome in their respective career journeys. In this installment, Sarah Thomas, the NFL's first female on-field official, recalls the challenges she’s faced and the champions she’s found in her determined drive to score respect as one of the game's best.
One of the most exciting, enlightening, and enriching things about traveling along this road of life is that you can never be absolutely sure of where it will lead you. If anyone had ever told a younger me that I would one day become the NFL’s first woman on-field official, I’d likely have laughed them out of the room. Growing up, I knew nothing about football, and as an ultra-competitive athlete in both basketball and softball, I always enjoyed challenging the officials, testing the limits in order to gain a competitive edge. The idea of actually becoming an official? That was inconceivable. And then, of course, there was the whole “being a woman” part. None of those things ever suggested the possibility of full-time Sunday employment.
But life is indeed what happens while you’re busy making other plans, and although the path I’ve traveled to reach this point has had its share of detours, none of them have ever prevented me from forging ahead. Self-belief and self-motivation are powerful fuels, and as is the case with most success stories, mine was not written alone. Certainly, you build your own body of work, but everyone stands on someone else’s shoulders. I’ve been most fortunate along the way to have the right people believe in me and provide important and meaningful nudges forward when I needed them most.
As proud as I am of the things that I’ve accomplished as a woman, my gender has never been the thing that defined me to me. I grew up with two brothers and we all were fiercely competitive. I just loved to play and compete. Where I could, I played in the same sports leagues as they did, and never thought anything of it.
I think the first thing that drove home the fact that the playing field is not always equal was when I got kicked out of a church basketball league that I played in with my brothers after college. I was the only woman in the league, and some players on another team said they felt uncomfortable when I posted up against them. I remember looking at one of those guys and saying as fast as basketball is, if you get some sort of sexual sensation playing against me, then you don’t need to be playing either. Of course, me just saying “sexual sensation” in a Baptist gymnasium, I knew I was toast.
I was a good player, and I loved to compete. My only transgression was being a woman. I never played basketball again.
But they say when one door closes, another opens, and just a few weeks after my inglorious exit from church basketball, my brother was heading out one night and when I asked where he was going, he said he was going to a football officials meeting. I asked, “Can girls do that?” And he said, “I guess so. Be there at 6:00; don’t be late.” That was 1996 in Pascagoula, Miss., where I grew up.
It’s funny; not everyone can recall the precise point where their career path began in earnest. But for me, it began at 6:00 on a Wednesday night at the Pass Point Association Meeting in Pascagoula, Miss.
I mentioned how we all stand on someone else’s shoulders in order to successfully reach higher, and for me, that first set of shoulders belonged to George Nash, who was a referee and trainer in Pascagoula. He welcomed me when others wouldn’t, but he never treated me with kid gloves. He pushed me to learn the game of football and helped me to love the game of football. He saw something in me that I’m not even sure I saw in myself. I really just wanted to give something back to sports; I wanted to stay involved. I knew that my learning curve was massive—but I did want to learn. I had confidence in myself; I just needed someone to open a door. George was that someone.
We all need allies, and I think too often, women don’t view men as allies. That’s certainly understandable, but it’s also limiting. There are enough factors out there that can limit you without creating your own. You’ve got to be willing to listen and to learn from those who can teach you; from those who will push you. That’s the only way to continue to improve. You can never be afraid of failure. Failure is feedback. It’s ok to fail, just don’t like the taste of it. Some of my worst failures have created my greatest successes.
George remains a mentor to me to this day, as does Larry Tucker, the high school official who recruited me for his crew when I moved to Jackson, Miss. Larry was a Purple Heart veteran of the Vietnam war, stern and demanding; the sort of person who would always push you to be better and reach higher.
Dr. Joe Haynes was the NFL scout who watched me officiate a state high school championship and recommended me to Gerald Austin, who was the supervisor of officiating for Conference USA. Based on Dr. Haynes’ recommendation, Gerald hired me over the phone, sight unseen, making me the first woman official in an NCAA major college division—something I didn’t even realize until I showed up for an officiating clinic prior to the start of the season.
It’s funny, although I’ve had that honor several times, I’ve never really dwelled upon being the “First woman to…” I’m proud of that fact, for sure, but it’s never been the thing that’s driven me. I’ve always just wanted to be good at what I do. I’m not looking to stand out because of my gender. I’m looking to stand out because of my ability and my professionalism.
When I was working Conference USA games, there was a buzz that I was on the fast track to the NFL, but I never looked ahead. If I was going to get to the pinnacle of this game, I was going to get there for the right reasons. I was going to earn it. My feeling has always been that whether it’s a pee-wee game or the NFL, the players have the right to a certain standard of officiating. Regardless of what level I’ve officiated at, I’ve always prided myself on bringing my “A” game.
"... Although I’ve had that honor several times, I’ve never really dwelled upon being the “First woman to…” I’m proud of that fact, for sure, but it’s never been the thing that’s driven me. I’ve always just wanted to be good at what I do." - Sarah Thomas
The first time I stepped onto a field to work an NFL game—the Chiefs at the Texans in 2015—I took a look around, found my family, and was ready to kick it off. There was so much attention around that game and my debut, and I was glad my parents were there to be able to see me. I was grateful for the crew that was with me and welcomed me, and I was ready to go to work. It was amazing.
Confidence comes from doing your job well, and in my profession, the ultimate vote of confidence is being selected to work the Super Bowl. When I got that call for Super Bowl LV between the Chiefs and Bucs in Tampa, the feeling was one of thanks, to my crew, to my family, and to everyone who had trusted in me along the way. Now, the NFL was trusting in me by recognizing me as one if its best officials. Not because I was a woman. Because I was among the best. It’s an indescribable feeling.
This year will be my ninth in the NFL and I’m still learning; still striving to get better. But I’ve never put extra pressure on myself because I’m a woman. I’ve long ago tuned out the naysayers, because I know who I am and what I am capable of doing. I know the challenges I’ve overcome. Of course, as a woman, you always feel that there’s a higher bar, more expectations, more pressure. But as Billie Jean King has often said, “pressure is a privilege.”
I’ve actually added a little something to her quote. I tell my kids, “Pressure is a privilege—but don’t press.” I’ve learned from Billie Jean and the other strong women who have walked before me. I know that the pressure is there, but I’ve never allowed it to be an excuse for failure.
I suppose I’m most proud that I never quit. I never gave in. I kept pursuing and believing. I’ve had the tears and the doubts, and I know that others have doubted me. But in the end, I believed in myself and that belief was more powerful than anything else.
Nine years in, I still feel the rush every time I walk out on a field, and I understand the privilege of doing what I do. Of course, you have to stay pumped and you have to live it year round—just like the athletes themselves. The league has standards—and we want to live up to them and always get better—but we also have our own. We all want to always get better.
In the end, I’m a hard-working woman and mom to three amazing kids. I’m proud that my sons are watching other men believe in their mom and her abilities. I’m particularly proud when they remind me of what I’m doing for other women. That means the world to me. Someone asked my daughter not long ago what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she said, “A mom, a teacher, and an official like my mom.” That’s the greatest reward in all of this, and it truly is a privilege to be in a position to inspire young women and show them that they can do whatever they want to do.
Even if it’s wearing stripes on Sunday.
