Indecent Exposure
by Anne Loucks
As a roller derby girl, I have many opportunities to be seen by the public. Sure, people come to watch the games, but there are also charity events, ads, parades, festivals, and many other ways for one's face to wind up in the spotlight. Unfortunately, this makes me somewhat uncomfortable, so I tend to disappear when photos are being taken.
Throughout my life, trying to remain mostly unnoticed has been a goal, but it is something of a ridiculous goal. I am tall and people tend to notice me. My attempts to remain in the background are absurd and futile, but I still try.
Many of the other derby ladies don't mind in the least, as some of them love having their face front and center. One of my teammates recently wound up on a reality TV show where she had to switch places with a woman in a different household for two weeks. Of course, the people involved are chosen specifically to generate lots of conflict. Our girl was a liberal and highly intelligent doctor. Her replacement was a proudly superficial mother who put her baby through beauty pageants.
Unsurprisingly, the families clashed over almost everything: the roles of men and women, childrearing, how to behave in the outside world. Much about these people were laid bare for the world to see. I found the whole thing somewhat horrifying and painful to watch. It was social disaster for the sake of social disaster in the name of profit. Millions watched for entertainment. I saw it and felt dirty.
My discontent with the show is similar to the way I feel about roller derby. Both involve real people, and both are filled with conflict for its own sake. Spectators watch, whether it is families fighting or girls wearing roller skates and short skirts knocking each other down.
I suppose it is old-fashioned of me to believe that such conflict, manufactured for public consumption, is inappropriate. I do not particularly like any sort of professional sport. Worse, it is hypocritical of me to continue participating when roller derby sets off my prudishness. Still, despite the troublesome undercurrent, there is a very positive side to the sport.
Derby is a public way for women to be athletic and powerful. With sufficient time and effort, most anyone in possession of two functioning legs can play roller derby. Many cities of decent size have a league where women can be both sexy and tough. Ladies of all shapes and sizes are needed. Their outfits may be racy, but they can knock the living daylights out of the opposing team.
I also play rugby, which has the same sort of toughness but none of the public exposure. As much as I love rugby, it does not give highly athletic women any sort of regard from the public. Games are free to watch, and even if you make the national team, you must pay for your own travel. As someone who generally hides from the spotlight, I tend to like this arrangement better. I have a measure of physical prowess regardless of what the world sees or knows.
Still, as a way to improve the lot of women, roller derby is probably superior. More people see it. An example is set. Women who start as spectators can decide to join their local team. Even if a woman does not know how to skate, most leagues will take her in happily. I was terrible when I started, but my teammates helped me acquire the necessary skills.
As a statement to myself, either sport can tell me I am tough. As a statement to the world, rugby is a whisper and roller derby is a shout. Hopefully I can get over my dislike of public exposure. Maybe one day I can revel in it, but for now, I would like to think that I am having fun and doing a little good by being part of something that shows women they can be strong, even when scantily clad.
