Why I play hockey? part 1

As many of my friends know, I play Ice Hockey. I have played this lovely sport since I was 14. Yes, my playing career has had its ups and downs along with some great monetary costs. There are some secrets that most people don't know about how I started playing and why I have stuck with it. This entry will be the first of a series explaining it.

"Jacqui, you don't need to act out. We've always known you were different, you don't need to play a boy's sport to show it," said my mother, "Besides, look at your ankle. You'll never be able to play that sport."

Yes, my mother called her straight daughter a lesbian. So with that lack of support from my mother in mind, I started looking for teams. She being the control freak she was, hoped her orthodox Judaism would keep me from playing.   This meant no playing on Friday nights or Saturday, a similar condition kept my brother from playing travel baseball.  However, I was lucky and found an organization that had ice slots late Saturday nights, some games on Sundays and practices during the week.  The next condition was on was on my own as far as paying for equipment. Yes to pay for my first set of gear, I took out money from my investments and bought it. I also paid for my first year's dues out of babysitting money I had put away.

Starting to play was tough. Learning how to skate on an ankle that was less than 100% was brutal. As was learning to not run from a object coming at your head. I remember crying after my first games because I thought every goal was my fault. But I had coach's and teammates who were supportive of me, they got me through the first year.

All the while, I was beginning a much scarier journey outside of the rink. I was in the beginning of a rebellion. I always felt I never felt like I belonged in the Orthodox community. Since I was 8 and my parents forced that life on me, I had been looking for a way to escape. I was depressed and always angry. My "other moms" would often say all they saw was the pain.

When I was in 8th grade, I asked to be put in public school. I thought if I left all the pain would end and I could finally be in an environment where people didn't care about my level of faith etc.  I ended up back in Jewish day school midway through my sophomore year for many reasons. Mainly, I wasn't ready to be "outside of the community", yet.

My teammates are/were a microcosm of communities and people. They were the ones that helped me appreciate the "outside", with whom I ate some of the first non-kosher food out and not frightened of community retribution as what I was doing was normal. But moreover, they gave me a place where I wasn't judged of where I came from. I worked hard and was given respect and a role. "Being accepted" was a feeling that was alien to me at that point.

TBC