“I’m open! I’m open!” I yell as I sprint down the field. Cut left. Cut right. Spin. I jump and feel the ball land in my arms. I continue to sprint, feeling my long ponytail fly in the wind. I feel someone right on my heels and two hands on my back. I lose my footing and slide on my stomach in the dirt. “Down!” I hear someone yell. I look at my new shorts, covered in mud and dirt. I love it. 

“You can’t out run me, Chan.” Kyle says. 

“I was going easy on you buddy! You’ll be eating my dust when I run into the end zone on this next down!” I say as we both laugh. 

As I run back to my team, I look over to the sidelines and see the other girls in my class. 

“Oh my gosh! I love that braid. Can you do it on me?” One girl says.

“Are you wearing lipstick!? My mom would never let me!” Another says. 

Ew. Braids? Lipstick? Are you serious? What a bunch of girly-girls. There is no way I would ever let someone touch my hair or face. I make eye contact with one of the girls. She looks at me and laughs. What is she laughing at? She’s the one that looks ridiculous with all that colourful stuff on her face. The other girls turn to look at me. “You’re right, she is a boy!” one yells and the others laugh. 

I am not a boy. I am a girl who likes to play sports. There’s a difference. I just roll my eyes in return. What a bunch of princesses. Who cares what they think. I am having more fun playing football than sitting there twirling each other’s hair. 

I run back to my team into the huddle and say, “Listen up boys. We have one shot. One shot to win the Recess Bowl. Austin, run a slant. Mitchell, run ten yards and hook back. Everyone else go deep. Braeden, find one of us in the end zone. Ready, break.” 

We line up on the line. The recess bell rings. One shot. We only have one shot. “Blue 55. Blue 55. Down, set, HUT!” I take off. The wind is so strong I can barely keep my eyes open. I can feel the dust and pebbles hit the back of my legs as I take every stride and my ponytail moving side to side across my back. I blow past the defense. Wide open in the end zone. It’s like everything is in slow motion. I see the ball, spiraling towards me. I reach for it. Victory almost in my grasp. 

Someone jumps. Oh no! The ball is tipped. I am not losing this game. I dive in the dirt, lunging for the ball, scrapping my knees in the process. Ouch. That’s going to leave a mark. I stand up, football in hand, bloody knees and nothing but a smile on my face.

I take off my helmet, my cheeks red hot, and sweat dripping down my face. I try and slow my breathing before the coaches come in. Deep breath in, and out. Deep breath in, and out. My legs are still burning from the last conditioning drill, but boy did it feel good to get back out there. 

“Wow. You were flying out there! What have you been doing all summer?” I turn towards the voice and see the one girl I was competing with the entire ice time. Man, she’s good. I am so glad I was able to finish the drills before her.  

“I hired a personal trainer and did some extra sprints after the workouts so I can give you a little more competition.” I say jokingly. She laughs, but she seems disappointed. Did I say anything wrong? She goes to say something, probably another snarky comment, but we’re interrupted by the dressing room door flying open. The chattering stops. The room is so silent you can hear a pin drop.

The coaches walk in. You can hear their skates clatter on the cold hard floor. “Good work tonight everyone. You all worked very hard and we can tell that some of you have been training extra hard this summer. You should all have gotten an email regarding AA tryouts that are happening this week. Be sure to rest up, they won’t be easy. See you all Thursday.”

A series of “Thanks Coach” and “See you Thursday” rings throughout the dressing room as the coaches walk out. The chatter and noise begins again with everyone talking about the tryouts.

I bend down to untie my skates, the laces wet from the snow coming up during stops and starts. “So, are you excited for Thursday?” I ask her. She takes a while to answer me. This is a first, she always has a comment for everything I say. I wonder what’s wrong. “I’m not trying out”, she says quietly. Did I hear her right? She has to try out. What reason could there possibly be for her not to try out?

“What do you mean you aren’t trying out? You are one of the best players out there!”

“My parents told me I can never play AA because it’s too much money and we can’t afford it.” She says with tears in her eyes. 

I feel unsteady. What I am supposed to say to that? My parents have never said I can’t do anything because money was an issue. Does this mean I’m privileged? Is ringette really that expensive that someone as good as her can’t play? I have to say something. Would it be awkward if I apologize? But what am I apologizing for? That my parents can afford it and hers can’t? She’s definitely better than me. It’s so unfair. 

“It’s okay though, there’s always next year. Hopefully I see you around the rink?” She says as she flings her heavy bag over her right shoulder. 

“Yeah for sure. I’ll see you around.”

Around and around I go. Faster and faster. I am getting dizzy. Everything is a blur. Maybe I should stop twirling. I don’t want to though, I feel so pretty in my new dress. I stop and look in the mirror as my dress flares around me. The sparkling gold and bright coloured jewels and gems glimmer in the light. I feel so beautiful, almost as beautiful as a princess. A grown-up princess just like my cousins. I bet they will think I look grown-up just like them. I can’t wait to show them. I race out of the room, “Sonee, Sothea, Sophie! Look how pretty I am!”

“You’re so beautiful!” Sophie says. 

“And so grown-up” Sothea says.

“Really?” My eyes open wide and I can’t stop the big smile that’s growing on my face. My cousin, Sonee, is the greatest. Mom says I look like her the most. I hope I will be as beautiful as her when I am older. We could be twins and dress the same!

“Definitely. Let’s go downstairs and show your aunties how pretty you are.” Sonee says.

I jump down the stairs one by one, feeling my fancy gold necklace with the shiny red diamond swing back and forth, back and forth. I reach the bottom step and look up. Everyone is talking loud and running towards me.

“Oh! So pretty!” Oum Symoun says.

“Look at Niang. So grown-up!” Ming Ren says.

I am surrounded. I am squished as Oum Salouet’s arms wrap around me so tight. I can’t breathe. Ming Ren kisses my cheek and then sniffs me. Whoa. That is really weird. Do I smell funny? Is her nose running? What am I supposed to do? Do I sniff her back? Is this a Cambodian thing?

I feel a hand on my arm, pulling me from the crowd, “Come on! They want to take a picture of us.” Sothea says. I love pictures! I follow close behind, skipping with excitement. I feel hands on my shoulders steering me to the middle directly in front of the camera. Yay! I get to stand with my cousins. I grab Sonee’s hand. She’s so beautiful. I’m going to look exactly like her when I’m bigger. I smile to myself.

I look up towards the camera. I see Oum Symoun pointing at me and waving her hands in the air. Is she doing the chicken dance? No, she looks unhappy. Is there something wrong with my dress? No, it’s beautiful. Am I not smiling big enough? I smile bigger. That doesn’t seem to help. Why is she yelling at me and pointing behind my cousins? What am I supposed to do? Did I do something wrong? I feel my cheeks get warm. I bring my fingers to my mouth, biting my nails. Mommy would tell me to stop but everyone is staring at me. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Is there something wrong with me?

Sonee lets go of my hand and steps forward. “She doesn’t speak Khmer!” she shouts at Oum Symoun. There’s more shouting and pointing.

“No. Not in the middle. She too white. It will ruin the picture! Hide her in the back.”

“No, she can’t go there, she’s too short.” Put her on the end!”

Tears start to escape and roll down my cheeks. What do they mean too white? I am not white. My mom is white. I am brown just like my cousins. I look beautiful, like a princess. How could I ruin the picture? I want to hide.

This is where I feel at home. Together with my teammates in the dressing room at the 2019 Canada Winter Games. Where you can hear the music blaring; the sound of the bass pounding against the walls.  Where the smell of equipment covered in sweat, tears and hard work makes your noise scrunch and your eyes tear up. You know it’s a big game because the tension in the room is high. I can feel my heart racing. My palms are sweating and my stomach has an unsettling feeling. I look around the room and my teammates are doing their pre-game rituals, tying their skates, and taping their sticks. The top eighteen ringette athletes in Saskatchewan are sitting beside me and I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

I take a deep breath to try and calm my nerves. I can feel my hands trembling as I bend down to tie my skates. The tough edges of the laces dig into my hands as I pull them tighter and tighter. I grab the rest of my equipment and finally pull my jersey over my head.  I feel more nervous than ever. It’s almost game time. I feel a hand grab my shoulder. I look over and lock eyes with one of my teammates, one of my sisters. She whispers in my ear, “This is just another game. Do what I know you can do, and everything will go your way.” I reach over with tears in my eyes and give her a hug, knowing it could be our last game together. As I wait for my teammates to finish getting ready, I think about what I will say before we go onto the ice. Do I get them pumped up? Do I give a sentimental speech? Then it finally comes to me. I know what I will say.

As my final teammate puts her jersey on, I can feel all eyes on me. I stand up, walk over to the loud, booming speaker, and turn it off. It is so silent in the room that you could hear a pin drop. I take a huge breath, and begin. “I know everyone is nervous. You can feel it in the room, but let’s take a moment and not think about the game. I want everyone to think of what we have accomplished. We are at the 2019 Canada Winter Games. This is where every Canadian ringette player strives to be, standing hand in hand with their teammates on the blue line singing the national anthem of our amazing country. This is what being a Canadian ringette player is all about, and we have reached that goal. We are living our dream. Now I want everyone to take a look around the room. Look who’s sitting next to you. We are not just teammates. We are sisters. This is not just a team. We are a family. When you step on the ice today, I want you guys to think about that. Do not play for yourselves. Play for each other.  Whatever happens, happens. But at the end of it all, we are still a family and this is our home.”