Welcome to the EIHA’s inaugural Pride Week! From 7th to 16th January, across both the NIHL and WNIHL, teams will be marking the organisation’s first Pride Week to show that ‘hockey is for all’. Here at Invicta Dynamos HQ we absolutely agree with that message and are delighted to take part.
‘Hockey is for all’. It’s a simple message. Deceptively simple maybe. You could slap that across a government lectern and we wouldn’t think twice. Might pay more attention if anything. Finally be begging for that ‘Next slide please.’ But sometimes the significance of serious messages can get lost behind the easily digestible slogans intended to deliver them. So what are we talking about here?
You might know of me – if you’ve hung around the Dynamos for any length of time anyway. I’m Paul (aka PEAB) of general club dogsbody stardom. The only diversity box I’m ticking is one for being freakishly tall and so unable to buy jeans in ‘normal people’ shops. Perhaps another for chocolate consumption over the Christmas holidays. And maybe one for ‘Jedi’ when I’m feeling ‘totes hilar’ come census time. But none of those are relevant in this case… or arguably ever.
So it’s not really for me to speak authoritatively on why Pride matters when the issues don’t appear to directly affect me. Fortunately I am blessed with a far more diverse group of friends who, with this article in mind, I harassed for their thoughts like a clipboard laden charity mugger that pursues you down the highstreet. ‘Can you explain to me your relationship with sport and also donate £2 a month to the PEAB Lindt fund?’ OK I have a Lindt chocolate problem. And yes my approach is a little on the nose but sometimes being direct helps us learn and, frankly, these people have themselves learned to tolerate me. I won’t name them outright – it’s not fair to propel them into the limelight that comes with third tier British Ice Hockey – but I will present their thoughts.
Firstly, my own experience of Pride is limited to seeing colours sprayed everywhere like an exuberant amateur surgeon carried out a hatchet job on a unicorn or there was an explosion at a Skittles factory. Visually it’s unmistakable. Iconic even. And I genuinely think ‘fair play – I support this. I support people being who they want to be’ and then think little more of it. I don’t think why it’s necessary. And that’s a luxury I have because I’m not affected by the need for it.
But I am informed that Pride was initially a protest. Or a riot even! It was the moment those being targeted for violence, even by the very authorities meant to keep each of us safe, stood together and said, ‘no more’. Their ‘crime’ was being themselves. Existing. From there, as society has largely evolved to become more understanding in the decades that have followed, the movement has evolved too. So is it still needed? And is it needed in sport?
‘When I was growing up’ one friend tells me, ‘All I knew is that I was different to others. I didn’t ask to be and at the time I definitely didn’t want to be! Nowhere exposed this more than sport. If you weren’t good at sport you were ‘weak’ or ‘soft’ or ‘gay’. And this can be a common theme in sport, the use of terminology – words that literally identify me and others like me – as a negative. At a football ground for example you might hear homophobic chants or the sexuality of players being questioned because they’re performing poorly. And people will justify it as ‘inoffensive banter’. But it’s easy to decide something isn’t offensive when it doesn’t apply to you. How would they expect the LGBTQ+ member sitting directly in front of them in the crowd to feel when they’re shouting that they’re a negative, a weakness or undesirable? It quickly creates an environment of fear and can alienate people’.
Another friend tells me, ‘For me sport had the perception that anyone who was anything less than stereotypically masculine was unwelcome. We were all expected to conform to gender stereotypes and it didn’t come naturally to me. So I felt vulnerable and I shied away from it. Now I’m not saying I was the next (insert the name of a former great sportsman here). But I might have been the next (insert the name of a former great sportsman here)?! We’ll never know. I was made to feel unwelcome in sport. And also Paul don’t you dare not replace those brackets with a name or there will be repercussions!’
A third states, “I was actually good at sport and I loved it. Like anyone on a team I loved the competition. But I didn’t always feel welcome. I didn’t for a minute feel like I could be my genuine self in that changing room because of the nature of the jokes. People I battled with on the field unknowingly making me feel shame. Eventually my love of the sport fell below my need to escape a room that effectively discriminated against me and I stepped away without explanation’.
None of these specific examples are linked to NIHL hockey but more sport in general. However that doesn’t mean the same situation can’t or hasn’t existed.
Friend four finally drops in to this virtual Teams chat: ‘There can be a habit with social movements to almost shun them, to question the need for them, to only consider our own personal experience and use that to determine if more really needs to be done. I hear people get frustrated with Pride saying, ‘I don’t care about a person’s sexuality. It makes no difference to me if they’re LGBTQ+. So why do we need this everywhere?!’ Ultimately I guess indifference is actually what we want… eventually. I don’t want people to care what I am. It should be so mundane that we don’t need to talk about it. But sometimes to improve we need to step back and ask IS everyone treated the same? So is sport as welcoming to all as we would like it to be? Or do some potential players and supporters turn away for fear it’s not for them? If so, what can we do about that to specifically reach out to those people? It’s not about special treatment. It’s about saying we might be seen as having a weakness here so let’s flip that.’
Back to me, the short jeans wearing, clipboard toting, chocolate junky, jedi. Hockey is a game that has brought me so much. From outright anger as that referee (who I will begrudgingly accept, perhaps, knows the rules better than me) made a call that ‘cost us the game’ to the euphoric celebration that comes with a winner at 59.59. Even when you’re not playing the game yourself it’s still interactive. Your mood, heart rate and decibel level are all intrinsically linked to what happens to that tiny rubber biscuit and the few warriors donning your colours for those sixty minutes. It’s an escape. A place to experience the rollercoaster of frustration and jubilation and all within an arena of likeminded people doing the same. There’s something affirming about being part of a group all singing for the same cause.
Like me I’m sure you’ve experienced a tough time, a terrible day or a problem at home and hockey has distracted you. It’s brought you back to being you. It gave you that release. That’s the power of our sport. To outsiders it’s ‘just a game’. They’ll never understand. Or have some just never felt welcome to understand? For all the joy hockey has brought me I want everyone else to know about it. I want them to share this experience. That there might be part of a group in our society that doesn’t feel they can be in on it is actually quite sad when you think about it. And unnecessary.
None of this is to say that hockey is THE problem or broken somehow. In fact I’ve attended many sports and, perhaps bizarrely given the aggressive nature of the game, it’s one of the more diversely attended sports I’ve been to. But can we do more? As the two minute old proverb that I just made up goes – ‘He who spends time high fiving himself has stopped moving forward.’
OK let’s not pretend for a moment that the three males and one female I spoke with here from the LGBTQ+ community, and who were already within my own friendship group, is an exhaustive representation of the community as a whole. And we can’t ignore that both sport in general and hockey specifically have had their success stories. After all, just two years ago, former Dynamo Zach Sullivan publicly revealed his bisexuality in a moment that took courage and hopefully trod a path for others to follow. But how can we make it so that these moments of brave vulnerability are no longer required?
‘Pride is important’ I’m told. ‘When I see teams or businesses engaging and displaying the colours it might not necessarily make me go there or shop there or whatever but it does make me think that they’re actively saying to people with prejudice – ‘No. Not here!’ And that’s a positive. Hopefully it also makes it easier for people to come out because visibility is important. Having a safe space can give people the confidence they need.’
‘I would say that having organisations like hockey clubs being open to something like this shows how much things have already changed’ says another. ‘This is important for the next generation of people who might be thinking about getting into hockey as fans or players. The next crop of talent could come from all backgrounds.’
‘Pride isn’t necessarily about changing the world overnight’ says another friend whilst effectively setting fire to my metaphorical ‘to do’ list. ‘Pride can simply be taking a moment to think about what we say or do and how that may impact someone else. Can I choose a phrase or song more appropriately? Can I challenge inappropriate behaviour? Maybe I could just have a conversation with someone and find out how their story? Or maybe I just show that I’m an ally and support Pride making others feel welcome?’
So then, can we make it so that the next LGBTQ+ youth has the confidence to be a part of that dressing room rather than turning their back on the sport through fear of feeling vulnerable or being victimised? Can we make it so that the next LGBTQ+ supporter who has previously hesitated at being part of a large group of fans quickly feels part of our hockey family instead? Can we make it so that that truly ‘hockey is for all?’ Let’s give it a go.
Welcome to the EIHA’s inaugural pride week…
