I highly recommend Kate Fagan's memoir. In fact, I would go so far as to say that anyone who wants to understand how homophobia affects women in sport, this is required reading.
The
Reappearing Act by Kate Fagan (Skyhorse, 2014)
The
Reappearing Act is a gripping memoir written with honesty and wry humor about
Kate Fagan’s painful, but ultimately triumphant journey to truth and
self-acceptance as a lesbian. As a
college basketball player on a nationally ranked team Kate Fagan’s story
exposes the influence of Evangelical Christian sport ministries on young
athletes and the crushing fear of being publicly identified as lesbian that
holds so many women coaches and athletes hostage.
I
started reading The Reappearing Act after the evening news one night and could
not put it down until I finished it in the wee hours of the next morning. Certainly part of the book’s appeal is how it
stirred memories of my own experiences as a closeted lesbian athlete and coach.
I relived the suffering along with Kate through fear, isolation and shame as
she wrestled with the growing realization that her feelings for other women
were more than those associated with intense friendships. Noting a player from another team passing a
huddle of Kate’s teammates in the gym, she writes,
One of my teammates leaned into our
little huddle and said, “I heard she’s a lesbian.” “That’s so disgusting,” said
another of my friends, shaking her head, trying to fling the thought from her
mind. “Yeah,” said another, “Totally sickening.” “Totally,” I chimed in, the
flock of birds tearing through my insides.
It
was depressing to think that, though I am about 36 years older than Kate Fagan,
our torturous journeys to self-acceptance had so many similarities. Despite progress
in cultural acceptance of LGBT people and our civil, parental and marriage
rights in the last 40 years, some young LGBT people still suffer through a
personal hell of self-hate as they strive to find peace and comfort with the
truth of their sexual orientation or gender identity. Tragically, many never do.
Fagan’s
struggles are complicated by her Evangelical Christian teammates’ condemnation of
homosexuality and her ambivalent, yet regular participation in weekly
Fellowship of Christian Athletes Bible studies with her teammates. Her experiences raise concerns about the unquestioned
acceptance of Christian sport ministries in athletics at all levels, but
particularly in high school and college sports. Young people seeking to
understand and come to terms with their sexuality are the most vulnerable to
the pressure exerted by these sport ministries to deny their inner truth. At the same time their straight teammates are
encouraged to “love the sinner and hate the sin,” which, in Kate’s case,
results in the painful loss of support from the friend and teammate she cared
most about.
At
the depths of despair in Kate’s lonely journey to self-love, she endures the abandonment
of her best friend and teammate, estrangement from her parents and the loss of her
love for basketball. Barely able to
function on or off the court, Kate engages in an internal war between what she
increasingly feels to be true about herself and the terror of what naming that
truth might mean. Her descriptions of this struggle are so vivid that I wanted
to step into the book to take her hand and show her the way out of her pain.
One
of the most poignant parts of this memoir is when Kate reaches out to her
closeted lesbian coach. It is common
knowledge that her coach is a lesbian (Kate’s Christian teammates regularly
pray for her), but it is never spoken of in public. One night Kate is alone in the darkened gym
after practice when her coach comes in and finds her there. Kate suddenly realizes that here is the one
person in her life who might be able to help her see what the future could
hold. They go to the coaches’ locker
room where her coach tells Kate how she has survived as a lesbian in the highly
competitive world of college women’s basketball which relies on talking to
parents and recruiting their young daughters. Kate describes her coach’s answer,
She has little choice but to pack
away this part of herself – this intrinsic piece of her being –stuff it into a
suitcase and stash it deep in the closet, unpacking it only on safe occasions,
when people around her would understand all of what was inside.
I
want to believe that, though this has been a necessary survival strategy for
lesbian coaches, its usefulness is now outdated. I want to believe that we have grown enough
as a society to judge coaches (or politicians, teachers, or medical doctors) on
the basis of their competence and character rather than their sexual
orientation, but I fear that we have not. Not yet.
It
leaves me wondering what kind of basketball player Kate, and other young
lesbian athletes like her, might have been if not weighted down by the fear,
shame and uncertainty she carried throughout her college career. It makes me
sad that so many lesbian coaches pass on this legacy of the closet to younger
coaches and athletes who yearn for a greater freedom to be true to themselves
and play or coach the sport they love. Burdened by such fundamental secrecy who
could possibly soar to reach their full potential and a coach, player or loving
human being?
The
Reappearing Act is ultimately the story of Kate’s successful journey to
herself. As such it is a beacon of hope and a gauntlet laid down for current
and future generations of women athletes and coaches. As painful as her journey is to witness,
those of us who care about women’s sports and the lives of girls and women
athletes must take stock of how we pass on or challenge this legacy of
fear.
As
such The Reappearing Act should be required reading for anyone who hopes to
understand the crippling effects of homophobia for individual women of all
sexual orientations and for the future of women’s sports itself. Near the end of the book, Kate describes the
long-term effects of living in the closet, even a glass closet, on individual
coaches or athletes, but it could easily apply to women’s sports in general,
You tell yourself that you’re just
wearing a coat, protecting yourself in public, against the elements. You tell
yourself that it’s just temporary, that someday you’ll take off the coat and be
the real you. But eventually, years
later, when the time comes and you’re finally ready to shed it forever, you
realize you can’t.
The coat has become your skin.
Kate
Fagan’s courageous memoir provides readers with an opportunity to reflect on
the damaging effects that homophobia has had on women’s sports and on the
individual girls and women who love to play sports. We need a way out of the closet so that every
girl or woman whose heart sings at the clean swish of a ball through the net or
the crack of a ball off the bat can reach for her stars without the fear that
has cramped the dreams of so many who have come before. The Reappearing Act helps us to understand
the urgency of that change. It is up to
readers to help make the change happen.