Picture this: It’s November 2021 of my sophomore year, and my daily routine is this: go to school, go home, play video games until midnight, sleep, repeat. This was brain rot before the phrase ‘brain rot’ was even invented. I used to stay up till 6:00 a.m. protecting my base in Rust, just to have it blown up five minutes after I went to bed because my enemies could stay up for longer than I could. I had no friends and few to no aspirations. On top of that, my parents hit me with the ultimatum: “Join crew, or get a job this winter.” My bum self was petrified by the prospect of a job, so I chose the former. That winter training season was the breakthrough in the stalemate of my life, and I had no idea. However, rowing stopped being just a sport the fall of my junior year; it became a job for me. Some would say it was about time I locked in. I began to climb the metaphorical “row, row, row, your boat” ladder. I even took a boat to the Scholastic Rowing National Championships in the spring of my junior year, placing seventh in the nation in our category. I kept climbing. I applied and got accepted into the USRowing Olympic Development Program and attended the Youth Development Camp in Tennessee (and I’m going back this year). Now I’m probably one of the few UA athletes who is 5’6”, built like a Minecraft spruce sapling, and going D1 in rowing at Marist College in the fall. 

However, I have always struggled with my teammates in rowing. Many of these struggles originate from being transgender, whether it be directly or indirectly. I would just like to preface, what I’m about to talk about does not reflect the crew team as a whole, but only a few people. Trans people will face struggles regardless of what sport they participate in, but I have actually met the most supportive friends through rowing that wouldn’t be seen on any other team. In the fall of my junior year, I was moved from the second varsity 8 (2v8) to the third varsity 8 (3v8) because I was being targeted for my identity. I would ask him how his day was, and he would respond by berating me (or some slur). If we won a race, it was “you don’t deserve to celebrate.” Luckily, this guy, for years, was barred from the varsity 8 because of his continuous toxic behavior

Over the time I have been here, I have gotten to know a number of fellow trans students. A problem I see is not just a problem exclusive to trans students, but our student body and generation as a whole. Rowing has allowed me to branch out into a world that originally was limited by the gigabytes on my hard drive.

Don’t make the same mistake I did. The false sense of socialization that you feel from the internet will only backfire once you are forced by the changing tides of life and leave you even more socially awkward and isolated. Branch out! Whether it be sports, clubs, or any extracurriculars in between. And yeah, the status quo feels like a safe space. Yeah, it’s going to be scary (and that’s ok!). It’s going to be difficult, I know firsthand. I’ve been extremely socially awkward before, but I had to learn how to fly, even if it meant I had to fall out of the nest and hit the ground more than a few times.

Thank you to Arlingtonian and those who nominated me for this essay.