Growing up, I never understood how people could refer to anything other than the house they lived in as their ‘home’. Home being a feeling and not a place never really made any sense to me. Though I’ve only been rowing for less than a year now, I think I can confidently say that I have found my home. Nothing has ever driven me to be a better person quite like this. It’s more than just the aesthetic views from the boathouse in the morning or the satisfying swish of the water at the catch. It’s the feeling that these girls are my people. My family. It’s that feeling of excitement that courses through your body when all that hard work you’ve put in together starts to pay off. That feeling of I’m not alone when you’re sitting in a study circle confused. And that feeling in the car ride up to a race where, even if you’re not competing, it feels like if you stick together nothing can go wrong.
Because of my experience as a woman of color, I knew things would never be handed to me. And because of that, I work hard at everything I do to prove to myself that I am capable of achieving my dreams. Rowing is and will always be a test of endurance. You can fill a boat with the fastest recruits and the best coxswain. But without that connection, you’ll never get anywhere. You’ll be stuck with players and not a team. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be the glue that holds your team together or even the fastest recruit you’ll meet. But to me, rowing is more than just a sport. It’s my home. You can create talent, but nothing can recreate the drive and discipline that only comes from truly wanting something.