Half awake, I walk towards the Walled Lake Central High School entrance for my water polo tournament. But instead of being met with the usually empty hallways leading to the pool, I’m met with glitter and costumes. I spot a huge banner that reads “Applause Talent” whilst dancers from 17 to nine zoom past me. I soon spot the tiny laminated sheet of paper that reads “Water Polo Tournament” with an arrow leading to the locker rooms.
Naturally, my teammates and I discussed the packed halls and extravagant costumes. We curiously wandered the halls between our games, eventually deciding we had to watch them somehow.
“Excuse me? Do you know where we can watch the dance competition?” I asked a Mom decked out in her child’s dance studio merch.
“Yup! Just down the hall and the doors open on the left; just follow the smell of hairspray,” She teases; my teammates and I did exactly that.
The bright stage lights illuminated the entrance to the small auditorium. I felt out of place, cramming through the entrance with my teammates, only wearing a towel and my neck high water polo suit, which certainly wasn’t built for aesthetics. In a crowd of skirts made with tul, we stuck out like a sore thumb. We found our way to the back and took our seats on the floor.
I soaked it all in, the bright colors, the full glam, but most importantly, the dancers themselves. In every move I saw their strength and grace. Their controlled jumps, precise balance, and the way they held their bodies with such power; they all sustained energy through such an intense performance. I could look past my entrancement of the glamorous costumes and rhinestone clips and recognize their athleticism. They were tough, I could never compete like they can.
Their femininity and strength worked as complementary forces. One didn’t outshine the other, they expressed great emotion through a powerful performance. It’s hard to believe that people still define femininity as just soft and delicate; their grace and strength tied together were so impactful. Their message was commanding and beautiful.
Although the dancers’ world is much different than my teammates, I still felt connected to them as an athlete and as a woman. We both trained for hours and pushed our bodies past exhaustion; we are one in the same. They use the same strength we do, even if both are represented in vastly different ways.
This connection continued in verbal ways. My teammates and I cheered as loudly as we could and wished the dancers good luck before the performances. One of the dancers’ dads even asked me where he could watch the water polo games, and soon enough as I’m treading in goal, I see a group of bright blue costumes cheering on my teammates and me.
This day highlighted for me the importance of community and connection. In a world that often pits women against one another or what limits we may have, it means everything to feel that mutual recognition. To see them, strong, expressive, powerful in a way I wasn’t used to, it reminded me that femininity doesn’t look one way, and strength doesn’t either. Whether we’re pushing through rounds in a pool or nailing every turn on a stage, we carry the same fire.
