I have loved roller skating since I was little. I used to put on my skates in the house, since we have hardwood floors, and skate around all day, just crawling up and down the stairs. So, when I heard about roller derby, years later, I thought I’d give it a try.

When I first joined, it wasn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be. I was one of the worst skaters there, despite the time I had spent as a child. I often sat off to the side of the track and cried, because I just couldn’t master the skills like everyone else could. Normally, I just would’ve quit then and there, but for some reason, something in me wanted to keep pushing.

So I did. Over time, though I wasn’t nearly as good as the rest of the skaters, I improved. During our first scrimmages I loved being part of the team! Our team wasn’t the best—not that we weren’t good skaters, but our team wasn’t the warmest or most encouraging. A couple of skaters would constantly put others down, rudely commenting on their skills or technique; then, when confronted, they would claim they were just trying to help. However, there’s a difference between critiquing and bullying. I knew I was one of the weaker skaters on the team, and so did they: they didn’t hesitate to let me know.

Somehow, I was allowed to compete with the team for three games in Philadelphia. The first game went fine, but I often felt ignored and was barely allowed off the bench and onto the track. One of the meaner teammates oversaw who would go out for any given jam, and she rarely picked me. I understood that I wasn’t a strong skater yet, but I felt that since I had traveled seven hours to get to these games, I should be allowed at least a little bit of track time. Overall, I wasn’t too bothered.

The second game was where it got bad. I was already emotional before the game started, due to another rude comment from a teammate. My skates were tied so tightly that my feet went numb. I was already crying on the bench. I was ignored again. Finally, I got a chance to jam. I wanted to prove myself and my spot on the team, but once I finally got out there, so much happened so quickly. Everyone was shouting from all sides, as people often do at sports games. I thought I heard the refs call me on a penalty, so I started to skate towards the penalty box before they told me to get back on the track. I was confused, so I took out my mouthguard to let a referee know, which ended up getting me a penalty (no one had taken time to teach me that rule). As I skated back to the bench, more embarrassed and ashamed than ever, my teammates yelled at me, even the ones who previously had been kind. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I skated off the track into the locker room, and eventually moved to behind the track during halftime. This had been my chance to prove myself, and I had blown it. Derby was never the same after that. I felt like I couldn’t even show my face at practice, and the bullying from the mean girls was only getting worse, so I left.

Over the summer I returned to coach younger skaters. This gave me time to improve my own skills and bond with the nicer members of my team. Slowly but surely, my confidence recovered. I still have a lot to learn, but I am improving daily! I’m bonding more with my team, and I feel more appreciated. If I had quit for good, I never would have bonded with my teammates or improved my skills as much as I have.

© Nina. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.