At the end of my junior season competing for Dartmouth’s women’s volleyball, I was dismissed from the team. No warnings. No details. No opportunity to defend myself.
In my years on the team, I endured body-shaming, overuse injuries and a profoundly hostile environment. In my experience, this culture was shaped by head coach Kevin Maureen Campbell and perpetuated by Dartmouth Athletics — which knew about her behavior and took no meaningful action to stop it.
My experience as a student-athlete at Dartmouth stands in stark, disturbing contrast to the values the College claims to uphold: integrity, community, diversity and excellence. My teammates and friends who are still suffering under this coach and department feel voiceless. Now that I am outside of it, I feel obligated to share my story.
The dehumanization began with constant physical scrutiny. Throughout my freshman and sophomore years, Coach Campbell repeatedly told me I looked “too skinny” and “weak.” Initially, I took these comments to heart and dedicated myself to getting stronger. Even after I was named Dartmouth Sports’ Lifter of the Term during my sophomore winter, though, Coach Campbell’s commentary continued. That winter, I realized that her remarks were never about my athletic performance; they were about my body. She scrutinized my appearance on media day, even walking up to me while I was wearing lip gloss to say, “I didn’t know your lips could get any bigger.” These comments exacerbated my awareness of my body and my appearance, leaving me feeling constantly judged and uneasy in her presence.
Over time, her actions led me to believe that she did not value my teammates and I as people. I felt that Coach Campbell expected us to be athletes, and nothing more. This environment pushed me to the edge both physically and mentally.
During one practice my freshman spring, Coach Campbell instructed the entire team to perform jump topspin serves for the majority of the two-hour session — a high-volume repetition of a skill uncommon for my position as a setter. After the first 20 minutes, I began experiencing shoulder pain but pushed through, terrified that asking for a modification would confirm her narrative about my “weakness.” That fear of speaking up, and the environment that created it, led to a strained abdominal muscle and three labral tears in my shoulder, an injury I am still dealing with almost two years later.
Later that year, I passed out during a medical procedure at the Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center for that same shoulder injury, hit my head on the floor and spent five hours in the hospital undergoing a CT scan, electrocardiogram and concussion evaluation. When I informed Coach Campbell of the emergency, she instructed me to come to practice that afternoon and participate in “light defense.” I was confused by this, since defense is typically a very physically and mentally intensive part of volleyball. When I showed the text message to our athletic trainer, she told me to stay home, shocked that a coach would suggest otherwise. Under Coach Campbell, it felt like pushing through injury was the baseline expectation; anything less was labeled “weakness” or a “lack of commitment.”
Our lives outside the gym were treated with the same disregard. During the summer before my sophomore year, I asked that team culture meetings — which were led by an external culture consultant and intended to improve team culture — not conflict with my and my teammates’ Sunday morning church services. Coach Campbell initially agreed, but reversed course days later, scheduling mandatory Zoom calls for 10 a.m. on Sundays. It was a clear message: My religion should not be as important as volleyball.
Coach Campbell’s lack of basic consideration for our well-being outside of volleyball was made even more evident the following spring when I notified her that I would miss one offseason practice to attend my younger sister’s high school graduation. She immediately called me into a meeting, claiming the absence showed a “lack of commitment.” She explicitly told me my priorities should be “school, then volleyball, then your family,” warning me that I didn’t want the team “to get used to not having [me] around.” Being told my family should rank third behind an offseason practice was a terrifying, dehumanizing threat. I attended the graduation because I refused to compromise my values any further. Soon after, her threat was realized.
On November 20, 2025, after my junior season, Coach Campbell removed me from the team for “recent decisions and behaviors.” Fourteen years of my volleyball career ended in an instant.
This destroyed me. I was shocked by the lack of warning and lack of explanation. I was also completely blindsided, as I had never been warned about, informed of or given a chance to address any behavioral issues. However, I was forced to compartmentalize my emotions because I had a final exam and paper due the next day and was moving back home for winter break 24 hours later. The timing and manner in which I was dismissed felt like Coach Campbell’s final act of malice.
Unfortunately, my experience is not an isolated incident. In Coach Campbell’s two-and-a-half years at Dartmouth, three players and five assistant coaches have quit. There are currently zero assistant coaches for the women’s volleyball team. This past season, Coach Campbell refused to allow the team to have captains because we were “not ready for leadership,” and threatened to cancel the Class of 2027’s senior night in the fall 2026 because the team was “too emotional.”
One might assume such ruthless tactics are the price of a winning program. They are not. Last season, our record was 7-17, and we finished seventh out of the eight teams in the Ivy League.
The most alarming part of the toxic environment the team experienced is that Dartmouth Athletics was aware of it. Athletes have raised concerns using every formal channel available to them. Three consecutive years of anonymous feedback forms detailed some of the behaviors I have described. In February 2025, a teammate filed a written complaint with the administration alleging racist behavior and body shaming. Many former teammates have met directly with administrators. Since November 2025, more than nine current and former players have come forward with grave concerns. Yet, Coach Kevin Maureen Campbell remains the head coach.
I tried to report my experiences to athletic administrators at the end of each fall season. They admitted they had read the anonymous surveys and claimed they thought the meeting should be held in person — but they never reached out about my availability. In a virtual meeting on Dec. 4, 2025, they told me they supported the timing of my dismissal; in a subsequent virtual meeting on March 11, they claimed they were “not allowed” to tell me the reason behind it. Almost five months later, I still do not know the details of why I was dismissed.
I am fearful for the future of Dartmouth Athletics if this is how it treats its student-athletes. The College must implement immediate, actionable oversight to align its athletic programs with the institution’s stated values. There must be checks and balances on head coaches, transparent guidelines regarding the dismissal of student athletes and a genuine commitment to listening to the students who come forward.
Until the administration starts protecting its student-athletes, wearing the Dartmouth jersey will remain a symbol of survival, not pride.
Ellie Mattox ’27 is a former member of the Dartmouth women's volleyball team. Guest columns represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
