Or: How I learned to stop worrying and give high-fives
I once quit a job because of high-fives.
Continue reading “A Non-Enthusiast’s Guide to Team Bonding”I once quit a job because of high-fives.
Continue reading “A Non-Enthusiast’s Guide to Team Bonding”Emily C. Skaftun
Amid all the bad news for women and other uterus-having people, the smaller-scale tragedy of Seattle’s roller derby apocalypse might understandably have slipped your radar. Why complain about something as mundane as losing a warehouse lease or some lines on a community center floor when from Alabama to, well, Washington state, legislation is being proposed to send women, barefoot and pregnant, back to the kitchen?
But while fighting the big fights, the little fights remain important, too.
Roller derby empowers the (mostly) women and girls who play it; just ask any of the thousand-some participants in the Seattle area. Yeah, it’s big. You know someone involved in derby, and it might not be who you think: We are students, tradespeople, professionals and parents; we are school-age children and old enough to be grandparents; we are queerer than average, with a quarter of players identifying as something other than heterosexual; we are all genders, one of few sports welcoming trans and nonbinary players.
To keep reading, head over to Crosscut, where this piece was originally published.