My year of roller derby
The year was 2015. I had just thrown two years of elementary teaching experience down the drain, career-wise, for a foot-in-the-door position at a Christian publishing company in hopes that I, a liberal atheist, would one day be qualified to work at a big children’s publishing imprint or something. I was living in my college town, but all my close friends had already moved away. I was finally living with my boyfriend, but navigating our cohabitating relationship after spending two years living 500 miles apart was leaving me feeling self-conscious, anxious, and constantly lonely. I had taken a pay cut. I couldn’t afford to do almost anything, and I didn’t have any friends outside of people I met through my boyfriend, who grew up in this town. Luckily, a college acquaintance & former coworker of mine was on a local roller derby team, and we got drunk while watching the women’s world cup, and she convinced me to come to a practice with her. Did I know what roller derby was? Well, I had seen previews of Whip It, so I knew roller skates and cardio were involved. Short answer: I didn’t have a fucking clue. Needless to say, roller derby has taught me a lot (namely, what it is) since that July last year. Before I go into it, I want to point out the weirdest realization I’m left with after a year of roller derby. Okay. See, I only go to practice three days a week. At first, I only went twice a week. But this experience, this small, fleeting experience, has taught me and changed me and opened my eyes to another reality within the world that I never would have known about if I had given into my fears about going to my first roller derby practice. So this list isn’t meant to be pedantic. It is meant to be a celebration of all the new ways I see the world, thanks to this awkward fringe sport that I’m always having to explain to people. And it’s also a way for me to look forward to everything I’m sure I’ll learn in the coming year. And now, a year’s worth of ways roller derby changed me, some facts about the sport, and commentary on the world: • Even the nicest people say some surprisingly judgmental, sexist, and rude things when you’re a woman and you reveal that you play a full-contact sport. (ex: “But you’re so feminine!” “Oh, I’d love to watch a bunch of chicks hit each other,” “Whoa, don’t hit me!” “Isn’t that a lesbian sport?”) • There’s a strategic way to use your body and your strength no matter what body type/ability you have, and it’s important to learn to play with all different body types to prepare for any opponent. • Despite how accepting roller derby is of body types & gender identities & sexualities, it’s still very white, and needs a lot of work. • Co-ed roller derby scrimmages are awesome. • If a full-contact sport like roller derby can have men’s teams who play with the same guidelines and rules as women’s teams, and can have co-ed teams that don’t need gendered guidelines to keep it “fair”, then no other sports have an excuse. • Getting injured doesn’t mean you’re weak. It’s okay to step out of a drill or skip a practice to rest an injury, even if it’s not “serious”. • Although no one without experience would assume that they can just walk onto a field and safely play full-contact football with experienced athletes, people make this assumption about roller derby every time I pass out flyers for our next game. I don’t get it, and I never will. • My gear will always smell bad, no matter how many times I wash it. • I own more workout pants than regular pants. • Sometimes my boyfriend gets jealous of how much time I spend with roller derby. But he also told me that he didn’t think I would stick with it when I first started, so that’s what he gets. (No offense to him, he’s actually very supportive.) • When I miss out on social events because of roller derby, I have no regrets. When I miss out on roller derby games because of social obligations, I regret it forever. • Being sore is just who I am now. • Crosstraining is key, and I don’t do enough (which is why I’m sore all the time). • In the real world, I’m supposed to be humble and say thank you for the opportunity to give men any kind of leadership. In the roller derby world, a man just asked me to help train the newbies on the local men’s team, because I have great leadership instincts and it would be really helpful to the whole team. The real world can do better. • I don’t need a bustling social life to feel like I’m important. I don’t need a perfect job to feel like my life is going somewhere. I don’t need validation from my boyfriend to feel like I’m valuable. I can lose my job, get dumped by my boyfriend, and live nowhere near my friends, and no matter where I end up, I can still find a roller derby team to skate with.
