“And if you see me, and I’ve joined the roller derby ,
Know that I’ve become something I’ve always wanted to be,
Fast and strong and part of a team…”
from “Happy Home (Keep on Writing)” by Kimya Dawson
Anyone who has read my bionote on this blog will know that I aspire to someday skate in the roller derby. Yes, it’s that sport that you remember from TV in the 70s and 80s. Women on roller skates, wearing crazy costumes and skating around a track, using hips and shoulders to knock down opponents and score points by lapping skaters from the opposing team. Mind you, the classic derby TV from that era involved a lot of staged drama as well, like we’ve come to expect from ‘professional’ wrestling.
It’s been a dream of mine for a long time to skate on a derby team, but the leagues have always been non-existent where I’ve been living or too far away. Until recently. A new league, South Sea Roller Derby, has just started up where I live and I’ve jumped right on board.
It is a tough sport. Players get hurt. Bones get broken. Teeth get knocked out. Not all the time, but occasionally and it is certainly a risk that players accept. So why on earth would I have just signed up for the South Sea Roller Derby’s Boot Camp?
A few reasons…
First of all, I feel like I need to prove to myself that I can still be tough. Motherhood has softened me, both physically (my stomach in particular) and mentally (I cry at the drop of a hat). In essence, the experience of being a mother has scratched away my tough exterior and brought my emotions right to the surface, which I’m OK with. I do, however, sometimes miss the Meghann who was often described as fierce. I know she’s in there somewhere, and I’m gonna have to find her again.
Secondly, I like the idea of being part of an all female team made up of people who may or may not have any athletic inclinations, may or may not have children, and may or may not have roller skated before. It’s about giving it a red hot go and learning something new, a process that I find frightening and exhilirating all at once.
But mostly, it’s because I want my son to try new things as he grows up and I figure the best way to encourage him to do things is to lead by example. Yes, I may make a fool of myself. So what? Yes, I may get hurt. So what? I can get hurt just about anywhere (I once stretched a ligament in my knee after being pushed over by a four year old when I was teaching and was on crutches for nearly three months.) I want him to know that it’s OK to try things and fail. Or succeed. How can I tell him to do that if I stop stretching and growing as a person, sometimes doing things that really, really scare me?
In 1995, Alison Hargreaves, an English mountain climber, died while attempting to summit K2. The media had a field day with criticising a mother for partaking in such a risky sport, accusations that you rarely hear thrown about when men die climbing mountains. Her husband was quick to defend her actions, saying that climbing was what made his wife who she was, and that the risks she took were part of what he loved about her. Years later, her daughter Kate was quoted as saying, “My mother did whatever she wanted to do. And I’m glad she did.” They miss their mother and partner, but they loved her for the fact that she pursued her dreams till the end.
While I do not pretend that joining the roller derby is anything like climbing the world’s deadliest mountain, there are some similarities. There are some risks inherent in both. If I end up with a broken collar bone, caring for Eli is going to be extremely hard. But if I don’t give it a go, will I always resent myself? I find it difficult to remember that I have to consider others now, whereas pre baby, I could be quite self centred. At the end of the day, however, it’s about striking a balance between being who I am and being who he needs me to be. It’s a process that I’m sure will never end.
For now, I will be strapping on my skates and, for maybe the first time since giving birth, saying a prayer of thanks for the extra padding on my hips. I’m sure it will come in handy.
