It is with profound sadness that we recently learned of the passing of Professor Jim Denison; scholar, colleague, mentor and friend. Although Jim was undoubtedly all of these things, he was, of course, much more, both in terms of the breadth and depth of his actions.
A native of upstate New York, Jim first attended Fordham University from 1981-86 where he completed a BA in Political Science. He was also a very talented middle-distance athlete with a “PB” of 3:43.50 for 1500 m; sporting experiences which he drew upon heavily in later writings. He went on to complete an M.Ed. in Educational Psychology at the University of Toledo, and a PhD in Sport Sociology at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign (where he was inevitably influenced by the groundbreaking Norman Denzin).
I first came across Jim in New Zealand, when he and his wife Pirkko were working at the University of Waikato, while I was at Otago. Although we never actually met during that time, I was very aware of his developing writings, not only in relation to their content, but more so their quality, His career then took him to De Montfort University (UK) before we were briefly on staff together at Bath in 2005, and finally to the University of Alberta in 2007.
To many (if not most) of us, Jim was a committed and insightful social theorist. His advocacy of Foucauldian writings to better understand and practice sports coaching were fundamental in advancing a post-structural analysis of the field. Although he was perhaps best recognised for this work, he certainly wasn’t so deeply rooted in “Coach Foucault” that inhibited a change of scholarly direction towards Bruno Latour during the last few years. Whatever he did, Jim certainly and passionately gave it his all.
Despite being a dedicated theorist, as touched upon briefly, where Jim had most influence on me was through his writing. Without doubt, he was the best scholarly writer I have ever encountered. In a conversation with him once, I likened his prose to slowly drinking a cold Guinness (in Ireland, of course); an easy, smooth, “good tasting” experience which simply oozed quality. Hence, his atheoretical piece on “Writing a ‘true’ sports story” written in 2002 was (and remains) a simultaneously reassuring, inspiring and challenging presence (I’ve always kept a wizened copy on my desk somewhere!)
But there was still more to Jim. In particular, he was an exceptionally progressive and caring supervisor and mentor. Not only was this obvious in how he advocated for others (most notably his former PhD students), but also in the work such “younger” academics subsequently produced. He was, without exception, very proud of them. His care stretched from that related to personal wellbeing, to how they critically thought about the scholarly enterprise. Perhaps this will be his greatest legacy. In the words of a few;
Jim was everything one could wish for in a mentor: caring, rigorous, immensely generous with his time and thoughts, and an immovable champion for all of us. His unfailing support and friendship as we moved through life and negotiated the highs and lows of our own academic careers is not something I take for granted, but rather recognise for the rare and great gift that it was.
Early on Jim impressed upon me the importance of doing ethical work that is meaningful and matters. He had mastered the art of asking the important questions, those that unsettle at first, but are freeing. For many of us, he was a stable point of reference and an example of “doing academia” the right way. I will remember him as a man of great integrity committed to pushing the boundaries of thought in our field, unafraid of changing his mind or starting anew. He will be deeply missed. Zoe Avner
Jim was my mentor and my friend. Every moment I shared with Jim was one of growth, during which he gave me his undivided attention (as he always did with everyone). Jim saw something in me long before I recognized it, and I will be eternally grateful for that. Hence, he taught me the importance of really seeing a person. He was so kind, caring and always genuinely interested in what I had to say. He was so very very special. But anyone who knew Jim knows this already.
Jim’s writing moved me and inspired me. His supervision shaped me and nurtured me. I see Jim abundantly in the close colleagues he also mentored, and I would consider it the highest honour should they sense some of him in me. He will always be a part of us all. It would be impossible for him not to be, such was his ability to give of himself. I will terribly miss his counsel, his compassion, his wisdom, and his mind.
“I’ve fallen” I said.
“Get up” Jim replied. “You have another race to run”. Luke Jones
Colleagues mistakenly assume I was one of Jim’s doctoral students. I would have liked that. Rather, I met Jim in 2008 at the NASSS conference during the final year of my PhD. A former student of Jim’s learned about my interest in coaching and introduced us. Jim was immediately giving of his intellect and support—in a uniquely strong, gentle, and magnetic way. I witnessed him help a lot of people, while his behind-the-scenes efforts within NASSS pushed sports coaching from the periphery towards the centre. After the conference, before I could, Jim sent me a nice-to-meet-you email and one of his articles.
The rest is history. He encouraged me to submit to the sociology of sport coaching session that he created and chaired at NASSS. Later, he would ask me to take over chairing, and to guest lecture at the University of Alberta. There he introduced me to his and Pirkko’s PhD students, many whom I have collaborated and stayed in touch with since. I could go on and on extolling his generosity and mentorship.
I don’t think Jim would want us to mourn in anguish. Up until his passing we were putting the final touches on a co-authored book chapter on abuse of power in sport coaching. No, I think Jim would want us to get back to it, using our scholarly-practitioner sensitivities to address real problems; to do sport coaching more ethically and effectively. I often tell people I owe my academic life to two people, my doctoral chair and Jim Denison. Jim helped sharpen my focus within the study of coaching, challenged me to deeply question what it means to be a scholar, and inspired the absolute best in all of us. Brian Gearity
“Words matter … space is important … signpost your writing … ”. Just a few of the invaluable lessons Jim taught me as his doctoral student. Jim was an incredible supervisor; kind, generous, patient, interested, God damn, Jim was “interested”. Interested not just in me but in everyone. My adolescent children shed a tear on news of Jim’s passing last week. He had watched them grow and took an active interest in their lives, as they did in his. You knew Jim was listening, and you knew he cared. Jim never once told me I was wrong but just sat back smiling, gently shaping my development, both academic and personal. He gave me the space to meander through thoughts. It was Jim who taught me that learning was becoming someone different; that work of quality and insight not only took time but meant significantly more than factory-style academic-productions. He also insisted we had the courage to call out what he called “bullshit answers; as in both sport and coaching there are many of those. And so, it was Jim who allowed me to cut through sports” parochialisms and elevated me towards progressive thought and scholarship.
Jim was just a wonderful human being. A friend, a confidante, a rock. Jim was understatedly strong, his strength was quiet; “come on Joe, there’s way more people worse off than me” he emphasized as I teared up the last time we spoke. Jim did not need to shout, or draw attention to himself, he was just always there … happy to listen and support, and if needed, advise. An intellectual limb has been torn from my body. But I do know he would tell me to wait a bit, and then when I’m ready, to “move … the f*ck … on” slowly accentuating each sound as he spoke. And for all this, I am beyond lucky and incredibly grateful. Thank you, Jim. You’ll always be there. Joe Mills
Finally, as encapsulated so well above, in addition to his very successful academic persona, Jim was an incredibly modest man who never sought the limelight for himself or his achievements. This is not to say that he wasn’t assertive when called upon to do so, but more akin to being an “old style” scholar, who considered it right that substance (in terms of the work one did) should stand well above a superficial high-visibility style. Hence, Jim championed the SCR agenda in many ways often through embodying the criticality the journal proffers to stand for. He was a genuine, considerate and sincere person, whom we will all miss very much. Naturally, deepest condolences extend to Pirkko, his family and friends at this sad time.
Robyn Jones (with Zoe Avner, Luke Jones, Brian Gearity, Joe Mills, Tim Konoval & Nathan Kindrachuk).