Soccer

That year, the United States women made history by winning the soccer cup. I was impressed by Julie Foudy and Mia Hamm and I decided that I, too, wanted to be just like them. I realized that they were all strong women, and they even had a Black goal keeper, Briana Scurry. My mother, Laura, decided to sign me up for the local Exeter Eagles soccer team, with coach David. Up until this point, I had no sports training and I was by no means from a "sports" family. It wasn't until I was much older that I learned my biological father was very athletic and that I got my love of sports from him. For now, I was happy just to play. I showed up to practice the first day and sat down next to this small, brown-haired boy named Jeffery. "Hey, what's your name?" he asked. "I'm Laila, I live down the road." "Hey, you're going to be good, you know." "How do you know?" I asked? "Because you know you're Black and all Blacks are really good athletes. I bet you're really fast and everything." The boy sitting next to him, Lee, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I mean you might go to college, but I'll bet you'll be speedy." I shrugged. I had watched football games and such, I had seen that the majority of athletes were Black, but I didn't really think about it. We got up to start running laps with Jeff, side by side. "You should just go, you know, don't stay with me. You're gonna be in the Olympics one day probably, so go for it" I ran fast, passing Lee, passing the two girls out of breath. I rounded the corner of the field and kept going. I looked back at Lee and Jeffry and all the other kids on the team and I knew I wasn't going to ever be like them. But maybe they weren't going to be like me either. Of course I didn't go to the Olympics, because I knew I would either become a soccer star or a writer and once I injured my groin the following month, I believe the decision was made for me. But I didn't care. I've been running ever since.