#nonbinary athletes

Bridget (she/her/hers, neutral nouns) has lived in Minneapolis, MN her whole life, but attends college in St. Paul, MN.

What communities do you consider yourself a part of? Broadly, I consider myself a part of the queer community. I also consider myself a part of the Macalester community, and then within that, the theatre community and the athletics community.

What aspect(s) of yourself drew you to this project? The whole “being enough” of something, or being “too much” of something. I feel like [that] a lot of the time. It’s limiting in a way, because I can’t participate fully, because I’m already too much of whatever it is. A lot of where I find that in me is with gender, and being “too masculine” or “too feminine” to do something.  

I was thinking about how I really love being strong and getting stronger, and as a DFAB [designated female at birth] person, a lot of people assume I can’t, or that I want someone else to do it, or that I [will] fail. And so there are these different things of “if I’m masculine enough, then maybe they won’t think that,” and that’s really...gross, to say the least. I’m always very determined to prove people wrong, even if that’s me getting really angry or messing something up or hurting myself [laughs].

There’s this “strong woman” component, where I want to be a feminist who supports women doing whatever they can do. But I sometimes feel I can’t be too close to that, because I also want to be like “that’s not me!” I don’t want to ever say “I’m strong because I’m not a woman.” I’m nonbinary, and I’m strong, and neither one caused the other.

Can you give a brief timeline of your relationship with gender roles/your understanding of your gender? My parents are very much not into gender roles. There was never any “You have do this because you’re this.” And I was never very good at being a girl in the way that society expects that to play out; I remember in elementary school I always wore hand-me-downs from my brother, and I would always talk about “I’m wearing boy’s jeans!” I was also really angry that I had to play softball instead of baseball.

That’s why I stopped playing sports! That, and you had to be on an all-girls’ team. Yeah, yeah, so true! That was a big thing when I got to Macalester. In high school, I did cross country and skiing, and both were co-ed teams except when we were racing. We all practiced together, we all worked [out] together. But then at Mac, it’s like, “you’re on the women’s cross country team!” and people will cheer “Go female runners!” to you. Yes, this happened. And so I said, “And Bridget!”

Did you always understand yourself as nonbinary? I think so. I don’t think anything about myself has changed in the recent past, as far as gender. There was a time in third or fourth grade when I insisted that everyone call me a tomboy, not a girl. I just think that I’ve had more of the words to describe it; it was a big deal to find out “Oh, other people actually think this way too, it’s not just me.”

How have you navigated athletics since coming to college, where it is so gendered? Mostly by ignoring it, honestly. My first year, I didn’t run, partially because I had never not run with a co-ed team, and so it was kind of weird. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted to do cross-country for me, or because of other people. But on deciding that it was an important thing to me, I’ve just had to put that aside, in some sense, because there’s no nonbinary team. Deciding that this is the team they want me on not because of who I am, but because of how I’m built, and just accepting that they’re not really talking about gender. And some days it’s harder than others—because some days people cheer “Go female runners!”

Because of the new NCAA rules and how they’re implemented at Macalester, have you considered trying to run on the men’s team, even if it’s still not accurate? I’ve definitely thought about it, because being surrounded by so many girls is sometimes awkward, but I never get that same feeling with guys...and this [is] very binaristic. In some ways, there would be a level of comfort, but not from being in the right place. It’d just be kind of a “HA! So there! I’m not on the girls’ team.” But it would be so much work and still not quite right anyways, [and] I love my team and my coach a lot.

In the end [though], the reason that I've never tried to be on the guys’ team is because I don't feel like I can really fight that battle. I'm not "trans enough" to be the one to challenge the rules. I would be in full support of dismantling the whole thing, I would feel like I was talking over other people if I tried to lead that fight.

Have you met any other nonbinary athletes? Not that I know of. I’ve never met anyone on a varsity team who’s been out as nonbinary. But I guess I’m not really out to my team either, except for the one girl who running in front of me when I said “And Bridget!” But I probably have. Especially because I think people don’t think about it, so they think they are cis and don’t question it. And that’s fine, as long as they’re happy. But I think there are more people who are.

I think it’s also [self-perpetuating], because it’s not an easy thing to just say “I’ll forget about my gender identity.” And that’s not to say “look at me, I’ve done this amazing thing!”; it just happens to be how I’m able to engage with it.

What kind of conflict have you experienced in trying to assert your gender? There’s the obvious, “that’s not a thing” [response]. There’s also an interesting idea that, by saying I’m not this or this, I’m solidifying the idea that those things exist. My mom’s always like “But why? Why don’t you want to be a girl? What is it about being a girl that you hate so much?” And I’m like, “I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m in that category; I’m in the middle.” I’m not saying that this category has to be all these specific things, and going back to what I was saying that I’m not strong because I’m not a woman. Those are two completely separate things. I’m not trying to solidify gender roles, but that’s something that comes up a lot.

Is there a reason you’re not out to your team? It’s probably unfair, but I don’t think they’d understand. Because here I am, running on a women’s team. And there just never seems to be a good time to be like, “Hey, by the way, guess what!” And since I feel like they understand me anyways, it doesn't matter as much to me.

You talked about how you feel like it’s limiting, and how you can’t participate fully. Can you give an example of a time that happened? Often, if I’m surrounded by a lot of women, such as on cross-country, I feel too masculine. I can’t really participate in this discussion, or whatever it is, because I can’t relate entirely. There are some things I can connect with, because I too have been told by guys “Oh no, I’ll get that for you,” or “It looks like you need some help with that,” when really it was “Let me do that for you, and you do nothing.” But I can’t be like, “Oh yes, as a woman, I have also experienced these things.”

But then also, I don’t appear masculine enough to be accepted as that, and so I still do get told “You’re probably not strong enough to do that” or “You can’t participate in this conversation” or “That’s probably not funny to you.”

Have you had any internal conflict with this? Yeah, with how I present myself. Like, if I know I’m going to be around certain people, [thinking] what am I wearing? What am I projecting in order to not have a conversation, or to blend in? Or, maybe they’ll think something different, maybe talk to me a little differently, maybe ask me a question. There’s the conflict of how your dressing affects how people perceive you, but that it shouldn’t have to matter.

I get mad at myself for thinking that gender is something that can be seen, and read from someone’s clothes. Because people do that. And so I feel like I have to subscribe to that, but at the same time, I’m like, “But I want to wear this thing, and I want to do this thing.”

Do you find yourself subscribing to it more often or just saying “This is what I want to wear”? More towards subscribing to it. I think about it a lot. One of the other interviews that you did, she was talking about wearing certain clothes to be more of the stereotypical lesbian—choosing when to wear certain things because I know that it will help me look a certain way. I definitely have clothes where I’m like “These are my queer clothes!” But also, all my clothes are queer clothes because they’re mine! [My friend] said that my first year, and I was like “That’s brilliant, that’s me!”

Can you talk about the Vines you made? These all show moments that I've experienced in real life. On a bad day I get pretty Minnesota-angry about it and store up that negative energy for an explosion later on. On a good day I try to make light of it—not only because it helps me feel better, but I also think people listen more to humor than ranting.

Why did you choose Vine? I'm not super-familiar with new media in general, perhaps a result of having [a] lovely slide phone, so almost all of the possibilities were new territory for me. But I like the idea of Vines because you have to get to the point, and also because they are a great way to make people laugh. Also, I think about a lot of things in small moments anyways, so having six seconds actually felt like a lot of time to tell the story.

What do you love about being nonbinary? I feel like it sometimes allows me to be more outgoing with people. More people are willing to accept me or talk to me because I can be part of [their] group, I can blend in. Which is cool, because it allows me to get to know more people more broadly.

I love that I don’t have to be anything at all. I do often subscribe to these things because there’s pressure to fit into groups, but really, I don’t have to—I can do whatever the heck I want. There’s no gender role for that.