I am not a fearless woman.
I’m actually quite timid. I like order and predictability and rules. When I was
a magazine editor, I started each editing task by making sure the fonts and
margins and other formatting issues were right. Only then could I tackle the
content.
I’ve been thinking about
this lately because in the author bio of my most recent book, Roller Derby Rivals, my editor at
Holiday House wrote, “Sue Macy loves to write about sports and fearless women.”
And it’s true. Nellie Bly got herself committed to an insane asylum so she
could write an expose. Cyclist Dora Rinehart rode more than 17,000 miles in 1896
through the muddy, rocky, mountain roads around Denver. Midge “Toughie” Brasuhn
(right) regularly careened around Roller Derby rinks with no concern about injuries—and ended up with eight broken noses during her career. To me, these
accomplishments are alternately inspiring and terrifying.
As someone who was trained
as a journalist, I find it perfectly acceptable observing and writing about
fearless women while remaining out of the fray myself. I am moved by women who
have the drive and determination to overcome society’s taboos or their own
fears in order to follow their dreams. I’ve listened to scores
of women who played in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League talk
about their motivation, and the common thread among all of them is the passion
they had for the game. Over and over again, they’ve said, “They were paying me,
but I would have played for free.”
When people are really
passionate about what they’re doing, they grab my attention. At the start of my
research on Roller Derby history, I went to a contemporary bout between the Garden State Rollergirls and a visiting team from Maryland. I barely knew the rules of
the game at that point. What’s more, the announcer was muffled by an inadequate
sound system and the action was so fast and furious that it was hard to follow.
But one woman stood out. She was a New Jersey skater, covered with tattoos on just
about every visible patch of skin, and she was magnificent. She wove in and out
of the opposing skaters, lapping the field and then passing her opponents to
score points. Her Derby name was Jenna Von Fury and her skill convinced me that
Roller Derby was indeed a sport worth writing about.
Late last year, the computer
search engine Bing produced an awesome TV commercial highlighting some of the
female heroes of 2013. To the tune of Sara Bareilles’s song, “Brave,” Bing
celebrated several fearless girls and women, among them the young Pakistani activist
Malala Yousafzai; marathon swimmer Diana Nyad; and Edie Windsor, who brought the Supreme Court case that that struck
down a portion of the Defense of Marriage Act. It was an impressive example of
the never-ending parade of fearless women whose achievements have made an
impact on the world, and a virtual shopping list of topics for a writer seeking
to be inspired.
So as I finish my final post
for I.N.K., I promise to continue producing books about women who made their
mark as they challenged the status quo. I'll also occasionally blog on my Web site, suemacy.com. Check it out when you get the chance. Or follow me on Twitter @suemacy1. And thanks for reading.
3 comments:
Cynthis Ozick is famously quoted as saying, "If we had to say what writing is, we would have to define it essentially as an act of courage."
So maybe that is to say that--you're a whole lot braver than you think!!
Write on!
Your brave women all craved an audience, and you've given them a broader one beyond their times. Brava, Sue!
Thank you for writing, Sue Macy. Thank you for wielding your trusty keyboard & using it to face down the blank-staring monitor & filling it up with tales of genuine courage. You've done your valiant part in making sure that these women's stories are not lost, bless your heart & mind. We bumble onward.
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