A funny thing happened after my biceps post went live. My sister Abby got an email from her friend Katie, and their conversation went something like this:
Katie: You should see this: https://asweatlife.com/2016/06/lets-talk-biceps/. It made me think of you! It’s so “Abby.”
Abby: Yup, my sister is a boss.
Katie: What does this have to do with your sister? What are you talking about?
Abby: Kelsey wrote this!
This isn’t the first time Abby and I have been on the same wavelength. In fact, unbeknownst to either of us, I was writing about embracing big biceps while she was working on a girl power poem for a professional development class.
My sister is a total badass when it comes to female empowerment in any arena, but especially when the topic is sports. In fact, she’s a sweaty mess in nearly every photo from our elementary school picture days because she spent her recesses playing soccer with a handful of girls and a whole herd of guys. When a guy in my grade—the grade above hers—kicked her in the shins to prevent her from dribbling past him, she kicked him right back and then hustled even harder to beat him to the ball.
Abby eventually cultivated a less retaliatory leadership style, honed in part as co-captain of her high school soccer and lacrosse teams. She continued with these sports in college, including a three-year stint on the soccer—I mean football—team at the University of East Anglia in England, where she was captain. These days, she plays on two adult soccer teams, coaches middle schoolers, hosts scrimmages for refugee and immigrant children through 4 Worlds United Soccer Alliance, leads an incredibly popular coed Zumba class at the elementary school where she teaches fourth grade, loves her women-only gym (especially the deadlifting class) and rocks Spikeball tournaments like nobody’s business.
All this is to say, she’s an athlete through and through. Oh, and she also happens to be a woman. Turns out she’s got something to say about that (she’s never been one to stay quiet!). So here you go, a girl power poem from my sister, Abby Rotwein.
For My People
For my people
who were chosen last
at recess
and went on to score a hat-trick
only to get chosen last
again
the next day
For my people
who have heard the “shirts and skins” joke
too many damn times
because a woman in a sports bra
is apparently funny
For my people
who have black toenails
purple thighs
fingernails dug in their arms
hair ripped
ankles clipped
never dive
never complain
but aren’t real athletes
For my people
who are “Weak, you know what I’m sayin’?”
For my people
who get the kids to school on time
work two jobs
do the laundry
pay the bills
cook three meals a day
and still play
For my people
who think Serena looks like a woman
a strong woman
a beautiful woman
who wear makeup when they play
or never wear makeup at all
who might be gay or straight or neither or both or not sure
but always show up ready to run and shove and slide
and always support each other
For my people
who tell their daughters
Yea.
Yea. You can be scrappy.
Yea. You can talk shit.
Yea. You can have
skinny legs or thick thighs
broad or sloping shoulders
little or big biceps.
Yea. You can be chosen last.
But they know,
and you know,
it’s just cause they can’t handle your strength.
