I would like to think I excel at sports. I would like to think that if I dedicated myself a bit more to soccer, I would have made the U.S. Women’s National Team (USWNT). But that isn’t my reality.
Until my senior year of high school, I played soccer six or seven times a week between my high school team and my club team. I loved everything about it. It was my safe place. Even rough practices in which my coaches shouted and made me run laps relieved pent up stress from the school day.
I remember when my mom and dad would take me to USWNT games as a little girl. They wanted me to see female representation on the field. I was lucky enough to grow up and watch them sell out Red Bull Arena in New Jersey, lucky enough to see them win gold medals and World Cup trophies on TV.
Although as a kid I wished to become the female representation I saw on the field and thought there might be a chance at playing at a Division III school, that never came to fruition. It became clear that playing at the next level was a pipe dream. However, I wasn’t disastrously upset about it, because as I grew older I realized that first and foremost soccer was always a fun hobby.
For most young athletes, it’s more of a hobby than a career. For those of us who don’t go pro, Division I or play intense club sports in college, we’re relegated to intramural sports, the bottom of the food chain. However, don’t let the lower level fool you — it gets pretty scrappy.
When I first got to college, though, soccer wasn’t even a hobby. My physical manifestation of a fidget or stress toy seemed to be all but gone. That is, until I joined a co-ed IM soccer team with some friends. Every Wednesday I walk away panting, fighting for air with bruises, scrapes and cuts to show for it. That wasn’t always the case.
For most of my life, when I would play with the boys on a co-ed team or play pick up, I rarely touched the ball. Back then, they only needed one of us on the field to occupy space. Yes, girls had to be on the field. Yes, we had to be on the roster. But the boys didn’t have to pass to us, and they often didn’t.
“Co-ed” didn’t actually mean co-ed.
The feeling of running up and down the field, shouting at the top of your lungs, “Pass. Pass. I’m open. I’m open,” knowing it was a fruitless attempt was disheartening. And the anxiety of making a mistake any time we did get an opportunity, which were few and far between, made it all that much more demoralizing. Those moments always made me hesitant to sign up, even though the boys would beg and beg, saying they needed girls on the team. Because what they really meant is they needed us to check a box and fill a requirement.
But my value is so much more than just checking a box.
And in college, I’ve shown that. The experience I had in high school has been flipped on its head at Michigan. And maybe that’s the nature of my friends and the people I’ve chosen to surround myself with, but it’s also evidence of change and progress.
My co-ed IM soccer team — The Michigan Moms — didn’t just need me or the other women who played to fill the four required spots on the field. They wanted us to play. We were valuable starters, concrete walls on defense and bullseye shooters on offense. I knew the men on our team valued what we brought to the table and our individual skill sets.
For once, I felt like an equal member of the team instead of a liability. That feeling extended beyond IM soccer.
Every year, The Michigan Daily plays Michigan State’s student newspaper, The State News, in a touch football game on the eve of the Michigan football team’s matchup with Michigan State. Although it may seem like a trivial touch football game between groups of college students, we take it incredibly seriously. The stakes are as high as ever and preserving our 19-year, 17-game win streak is crucial. That intensity and passion for the game led me to believe that this would be just another “co-ed” activity where women were minimized, just like in high school.
When I came to my first practice in April of my sophomore year, I expected to be pushed aside. Maybe I’d get to put in a couple of reps, but I thought I’d have to spend the rest of the time on the sidelines watching the men show off their testosterone. To my fortunate surprise, that was not the case.
As I went to more and more practices, the typical “co-ed” treatment I was used to seeing was nowhere to be seen. Just as many women came to practice as men, and everyone received the same amount of practice time. Women lined up against men on the line or out wide at receiver. There was no separation of gender, only separation of skill. And that translated to the big game as well.
In my first iteration of the game, women littered the starting lineup. Lys Goldman was a starting wide receiver hauling in touchdowns, Liza Cushnir was a rock at center, Abbie Telgenhof was a beast on the defensive line and Taylor Daniels was a bruiser at safety. Not only did women play, they made big plays too. “Co-ed” finally became co-ed.
It didn’t stop there. Former Managing Sports Editor Jared Greenspan gathered a group of women from the Sports and Photo sections and told us we were doing an all-women drive. Although my initial reaction was subdued by the intensity of the moment, it was a special experience for all of us — we coined it the “drive for feminism.”
The cheers were louder than ever. Everyone on the sidelines screamed and shouted our names in praise. We lined up with seven women on defense against State News’ seven women on offense. Not a man in sight.
It might not seem relevant that we stopped them dead in their tracks four times, forcing a turnover on downs in their half. It might not seem relevant that we converted that into a touchdown. But it was relevant. And the reaction proved that, as our entire sideline crashed the end zone to celebrate with us and take pictures. We had a tangible impact on the game.
For most of us on our “co-ed” teams as kids or playing pick up after school, that wasn’t the case. We never had the opportunity to be impactful, the opportunity to score a touchdown or goal. And the anxiety of making a mistake any time we had an opportunity made it all that much harder — but all that much more rewarding when we did succeed.
So when women succeed at the next level it’s inspiring. Whether Division I or professional, they’re making their mark on the sports world.
But what about the rest of us? The ones who love sports and are aspiring recreational athletes. The ones who want to shoot instead of being treated like a liability. The ones who want to play co-ed and have it truly be co-ed. If you ask me, I would say things are changing. I would say go play and see for yourself.
And while you’re at it, pass to the women. Let them take a shot. We can be just as good as the men, if not better. We’ve proven that.