Like Other Girls

Like Other Girls

YA fiction
"It's not the dirty shoulder check that bothers me; it's not
that the useless refs apparently didn't see it. It's not even that I
hit my head so hard on the floor that bright sparks still fly across
my vision and pain ricochets around my brain. What bothers me is the
look on everyone's faces, like I'm some fragile knicknack on their
grandmother's shelf that will shatter if you look at it sideways. I'm
fine."
I have not been a big fan of football since I saw a high school
classmate permanently paralyzed from the neck down by a tackle gone
terribly wrong. I decided then and there no kids of mine would ever
play. I rarely give books revolving around the sport more than a
cursory skim. So I was blind sided when I ended up not only reading
Britta Lundin's Like Other Girls, but totally loving it. I guess it's
because the narrator and have something major in common. I'll return
to this concept in the purrrsonal notes.
Mara, Lundin's protagonist, has never been like the other girls
around her. She prefers garments that will allow her to be active to
any kind of dress. Her after school job is in a store where her
duties include stacking sacks of manure. Her mother was really
disappointed when she didn't go for the church secretary gig. And she
runs rough and tumble with the guys. Playing high school basketball
is what she is most dedicated to.
So it's a very big deal when Mara's coach kicks her off the team
for fighting. She will be allowed to rejoin the team the next year
under one condition. She must play a fall sport without getting into
a fight to show that she can control her temper.
How hard can that be? Well she seems to have only one option.
"...The volleyball girls are the ones with the long nails who
monopolize the bathroom mirrors in the morning before class...We have
absolutely nothing in common. It's a sport with perky cheers from the
sidelines, where spandex short shorts are the required uniform."
Wait a minute. What about football? She's been playing it with
her friends nearly all her life. Not everyone is happy when she joins
the team. But she can handle all the drills the coach hands out in
pre season twice a day training. And the sport is becoming fulfilling
in itself--not just a ticket back to basketball.
But then there's an unexpected twist. Four other girls,
including the one Mara was in the fight with, decide they're going to
try out. None of them have any real experience. But they are seeing
a chance to make a statement.
Suddenly Mara's life is a lot more complicated. The press is
playing that angle for all it's worth. The team is angered by the
politics eclipsing the playing. Families, friendships, and the
dynamics of school and town are suddenly more precarious.
The ring of authenticity in the story comes from it reflecting
Lundin's life experience. She was the only girl on her flag football
team. She didn't go on to tackle because she would have been seen as
weird or threatening.
On a purrrsonal note, I was weird and threatening in high school, only
in the classroom, not the playing field. My junior year the football
coach tried to pimp his team by telling me I could have my pick of the
team as prom date if I'd drop my grade to a C so enough of the guys
could pass for him to field a team the next fall. He was out of luck
because I had no serious desire to wear a dress and get groped in a
decorated gym. I didn't like dresses. I refused (and still refuse)
to spend time on hair styling (which then involved straightening with
irons) and make up. I was a powerful presence at protests. And I
walked, sat, and moved through space anything but daintily and
timidly. (The modeling lessons I'd been forced into in junior high by
a mom desperate for me to "take pride in my appearance" did not take).
I was 63 when I learned that there was a term other than weird
or threatening to describe me. Gender fluid or nonconforming. I'd
just won a trophy in my first drag show, performing the title song
from Grease. (Drag is one of the things I pandemic miss the most.) I
was amazing on that stage. The crowd cheered and applauded my every
move. Performing had felt like flying. And the realization had
dawned on me that I was gorgeous and wonderful just the way I am.
At seventy I still have Mara moments. In dining we are seriously
understaffed. So in September to help out a little more I'd taken on
changing garbage can liners and carting recycling and garbage out to
the dumpsters. This time it was my size--5'0", 112 lbs. People were
afraid I'd hurt myself which motivated me even more. Now I can sling
garbage with the best of them. And I'm working on compost which is
total dead weight. The last day before break I dumped a bucket. (Jules)
Don't ever underestimate her. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all who challenge stereotypes.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


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