Female Athletes Are Making History, But Still Face Sexism
Sarah Fuller, a goalkeeper for Vanderbilt University’s soccer team, made history in late November as the first woman to play in a Power 5 conference college football game. While many have interpreted her contribution as evidence that women are succeeding in the male-dominated world of sports, the backlash she has faced in the days since indicates that the prejudiced opinion that peak athleticism and strength is reserved only for males is alive and well.
Looking at social media, I saw people respond to Fuller’s story with vicious comments. Writer for The Federalist Jordan Davidson said, “By giving Fuller extra recognition simply because of who she is, the SEC has lowered its standards for exemplary college football players, and for other women who may have the chance to play competitively.” She even ended her article by stating, “Don’t reward the ‘Play Like A Girl’ mantra. Reward those who are deserving of it.”
Fuller did the kick exactly as she was told, yet she was criticized for it as still not being enough. Just because Vanderbilt did not have a strong game does not mean that Fuller should not be rewarded for stepping up for her school. She deserves that recognition for breaking a barrier; it now provides more opportunities for women to do the same and bring the standard to an even higher level. Critics ignore the progress she made because she is being celebrated for something considered revolutionarily feminist: considered a dirty word by some, but really meaning the equality of the sexes, not something dirty at all. And what she did should be seen as feminist; although she may not have played the exact same as the male athletes would have, it was a step toward equality on the field.
As a female athlete, I absolutely love and embrace the messages of empowerment Fuller sent — from her history-making contribution to the game itself, to her choice to wear a helmet with the phrase “Play Like a Girl” written on it. But I’ve been an athlete long enough to have experienced many too many comments that have implied I am weak, that my femininity is something to be afraid of, or something that makes me less of an athlete, to believe we’ve made significant progress. As a female athlete, I have always been compared to my male counterparts, or told I wasn’t enough of an athlete because I was too feminine. My team was criticized for showing emotion and lifting each other up, and each player scrutinized for every tiny mistake we made as an example of our fragile femininity. For example, when I was in high school, a senior staff member of my swim team repeatedly compared our team to the boys’ football team; if we experienced failure, the staff member criticized us for not reacting the way she said the boys would have. During a drylands workout, as pop music blasted through the speakers, she declared that it wasn’t motivating enough, that the boys’ football team wouldn’t listen to it. The music was rapidly switched to what was considered more “masculine” music: demeaning, vulgar rap that tore women down as conquests while motivating men for their power over women. She didn’t explain why something that tore us down would motivate us, or make us better athletes in any way.
I was therefore unsurprised by the reactions to Sarah Fuller’s performance that I saw on social media. I had déjà vu not only to my own experiences, but also to when the U.S. women’s soccer team won the World Cup. Countless Americans felt that they, champions, didn’t deserve comparable payment to the men’s team, who have won zero World Cups.
We believe this, of course, because we’re raised with gender stereotypes that enforce the toxic idea that men are strong and dominating, on and off the athletic field. But this stereotype doesn’t hurt just women, but also many men. Look at Harry Styles’s recent Vogue cover, in which he wears clothing traditionally considered feminine. Many critics, most famously Candace Owens, argue this cover threatened the entire concept of masculinity; many called for society to “bring back manly men.” It’s unclear why Harry Styles wearing a dress is so problematic if he’s comfortable in it, other than that his comfort in it makes others uncomfortable. Just because he is wearing a traditionally feminine article of clothing doesn’t make him any less of a rock star.
Things like the sports people play or the clothes they wear should not determine their strength or identities. Gender should not be used as a measure of worth or point of comparison of value. Let people be who they identify as, and celebrate their accomplishments as human beings, rather than being critical of whether or not they did it while conforming to gender stereotypes or not.
