Fierce Pride

As I laced up my cleats, energy coursed through my body. I felt excited, but nervous. After all, I hadn’t played at any competitive level in 30 years. How would my 48-year-old body respond to the demands of soccer, even at a recreational level? I knew I was in good shape. Five years of dancing regularly had certainly helped me with that. But dancing is one thing, running around on a soccer field quite another. 

The opportunity to play soccer again arose rather unexpectedly. A parent of one of the transgender youth sent out an inquiry to the community, seeking to determine if there was enough interest to put together a transgender/gender nonconforming (T/GNC) soccer team for the first time in the history of our city’s recreational league. This would be a bold step. The T/GNC community often lacks the chance to play sports and participate in other activities because of fear of how we will be welcomed, or not, by others. Sports can seem like a particularly harsh environment, one in which gender norms are strictly enforced by other players and by society. Nevertheless, enough of our local T/GNC community responded positively that we decided to pursue the idea.

The parent had spoken with the local women’s soccer league, which also hosts the local coed league, about the possibility. To their credit they expressed willingness to educate themselves and the officials and to work with us on any issues that might arise with other teams. The league rules dictate that no less than six female players must be on the field at all times. To our frustration, the designation of female by league rules is determined by the marker on one’s driver’s license or state ID. For some of our team members, this meant they would not be recognized consistent with their personal identity. We decided that this restriction wasn’t a deal breaker and we would find a way to work with the league and the referees to make sure people were properly identified.

In addition to members of the T/GNC community several parents of T/GNC kids and a few allies, including my son, joined the team. We would be quite an interesting group, especially given that some members of the team had never played soccer, others like me had not played in many years, and a few were sharp and proficient. We decided that regardless of how games went, we would support one another and aim to have a great time. Once we selected purple as our team jersey color, we also decided that we would be the best-looking team on the field.

Thus I found myself lacing up my cleats by the side of the field on a Sunday evening. I would be in the starting 11 for the first match. As kickoff drew near, I tucked my shin guards in my socks, drank some more water (extremely important in the hot, dry desert climate!) and prepared myself mentally. I took my position in midfield, the whistle blew, and I started to run. I had hoped that, being a recreational league, the pace of play would be slower than it turned out to be. Despite that, and despite the fact that we conceded several goals, I and my teammates had a great time. We each gave our best, and we supported each other throughout the game. I have never played for a team with such positive team spirit. As the game progressed, I found the skills that had been drilled into me so many years earlier begin to return. I also found that my dance-honed leg muscles were not used to the different demands of playing soccer, and began to experience muscle cramps. Rotating off and on the field regularly helped, but by the end of the game I was playing with a distinct limp. Regardless of this, I loved it. It felt wonderful to be back on the field, playing a game I have always enjoyed. It felt amazing to face a challenge that I had not been sure I could accomplish and prove that I could. Later, reflecting on the game, I also recognized the growth in my mental attitude. I was not the best player on the field. But my worth and my identity didn’t depend on that. I gave the best I had to give that night and it was enough. I was enough, regardless of the outcome of the game, regardless of how others might rate my play.

We have games throughout the summer. I expect to continue to be challenged by this new endeavor. Our second game was physically much harder than the first because my body was already tired going into it. But the conditioning will come with time. Above all, I want to maintain the positive mental attitude (which can still slip at times as well, as it did after the second game) and I want to sustain a positive team spirit. We chose the name Fierce Pride for our team, and I think it suits us well. We are proud to be out there, representing ourselves and our T/GNC community with confidence, joy, and enthusiasm. We are not ashamed. We are winning by the fact that we are showing up. I am proud of my teammates, and I am proud of myself. I could have chosen to pass on this opportunity. No one would have judged me. But I made the choice to step out of my comfort zone (again!) and demonstrate to myself that I am enough. We as a community are enough.

That is a pangolin on our jersey. There's a story behind that, which I may tell another day.

If you live in Tucson, we’d love to have you come support us at our games. Contact me to get a schedule, or check the league website and look for Fierce Pride.