Gonzo Girl

I really like badass women.

Take the character, Mattie Ross from the movie True Grit.  A young woman hires a washed up US Marshall to exact revenge on her murdered dad.  But she takes this plan to the badass level by insisting on joining him on a journey which ends with a rattlesnake bite, an amputation and justice served.

Or real-life badass women.  Ruth Bader Ginsberg, the Supreme Court Justice that stood her ground on gender equality as she supported democracy and our constitution until her death at age 87.  Dolly Parton, Alysa Lui, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks. The list goes on and on.

But, what about everyday badass women?  

Growing up, I was lucky enough to have the early benefits of Title 9, the law created to provide equal access to sports for girls and young women in public schools. Just 2 years after its enactment in 1972, I started playing fast pitch softball. Later, I ran track and was on my high school swim team. At the time, I didn’t realize I was part of the first generation of girls and young women to have the opportunity to participate in organized sports within our educational system.  It wasn’t until much later that my older sisters explained this to me. Their sports were cheerleading and baton, both worthy endeavors, but at the time, meant as ancillary to the boys. 

And even with the law requiring equal access to sports, in my day, girls did not play sports such as football, basketball or hockey. A few brave girls tried out for the guys’ teams, in which case you were inevitably cut. I’m pretty sure skill was not often in that equation. Case in point, my good friend Cassie was one of these courageous girls. Trying out for the basketball team, she told me her skills put her in the middle of the pack. Not the best but also not the worst. Still, she was cut from the roster. And the reason?  Coach said it was because she was a girl. End of story.

So at the family Christmas party when my niece Jennifer casually mentioned she joined a hockey team, I was transfixed. I needed to know all the details about it and immediately arranged to go to a game. 

Let’s get this straight. We are not talking about youth sports. Nope. My niece just turned 40.  Although 20 years younger than me, her athletic opportunities were still in the early stages of development. Growing up in St. Louis, she explained to me that her experience in hockey came in the form of street hockey, and some “stick and puck” workshops at the local rink. She and her dad watched the Blues religiously and she joked that the Mighty Ducks movies were more than inspirational. There were literally no options for team hockey for a young girl. 

So she grew up doing other things. She’s an artist and musician. A business owner. A fantastic mom. She’s kind of a badass. 

But like most badass women, she has a lot of gas in her tank. And as a creative, she doesn’t just let that go. Her energy went straight to a life long dream. Hockey. 

Ok. Great. Dream identified. But where can a grown-ass woman go, who has never actually played organized hockey?  

Well that’s easy. 

Portland. 

Living in Vancouver, she is just over the bridge from the city whose slogan is ”Keep Portland Weird”. Weird in the best possible way. Weird by pushing boundaries of cultural norms. Weird by accepting those boundary pushers. Weird by welcoming the badass trailblazer in all of us. Weird in offering opportunities for a mom of three to pursue her childhood dream of playing hockey. 

So Rick and I packed up the car and drove four hours to Portland with one intention. Watch Jennifer play hockey. 

We had been warned that watching hockey would be cold. All bundled up in our ski gear we showed up a little early in hopes of chatting with Jennifer before the game. The Winterhawk Ice Center is less grand than its name. Set out in Beaverton, it’s tucked behind a strip mall that has seen better days. It’s an inviting space that serves good beer for 3 bucks, and welcomes all. This particular league is recreational. It was created as an inclusive space for female, trans and non-binary players. (Portland United Hockey League Provides a Space for Female, Trans and Nonbinary Players, WWeek.org).

It wasn’t long before folks began streaming in heading for the locker room or the bar. But, we didn’t see Jennifer anywhere. Then we heard, “Hey!! You made it!” Turning around I didn’t recognize her at first. Already a tall woman, her skates added at least three inches to her height. She was amazing. And all that gear. A real-life hockey player. I immediately wanted her autograph. 

After a quick chat, She rushed off to the ice for warm up and soon the game began. 

Just minutes into the game, husband Andy and their three kids showed up. Shouts of  “Shoot!”, intermingled with “Go mom!” filled the stadium. It was a blast!

In the end, they lost. This did not diminish the smiles and laughter and smacks on the back. 

I loved every minute of it. 

On arriving home the next day, we continued our nightly ritual of tuning in to the Winter Olympics. As I watched the women athletes, I kept thinking about the path each of them chose, continuing to smooth that road just a little more for those to follow; about how different the opportunities are for girls now compared to my youth and those before me; about the modeling, mentoring and parenting that led to the confidence it takes to take big risks. It’s hard for me to explain my feelings about this. A mixture of pride, and excitement and hope. But so much more than that. 

The truth is that badassary is something achievable for everyone. It can be a gold medal at the Olympics (nod to the 2026 USA Women’s Hockey Team), it can be a creative idea brought to fruition through hard-work, it can be parenting a teenager or cleaning out the garage. It’s the intersection of a dream and a goal. It takes commitment and confidence and a willingness to “feel the fear and do it anyway.”

Not an easy task. 

Which is, of course, what makes it totally badass. 

https://www.wweek.com/culture/2024/07/23/portland-united-hockey-league-provides-a-space-for-female-trans-and-nonbinary-players/