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Womens Teams --
Being a young woman of high school or
college age in the 1950s was not a very good time to be a
maverick. (A friend of mine says that's a better term than
'rebel'. Maybe so.) Actually, I think I was just born 50 years
too soon. Now, in this first decade of the 21st Century, I
could be either of the two things I most wanted to be back
then. There were two activities that were constants in my life
during my growing up years: sports and classical music. What
brought them together in my heart and mind and soul was my
third love—writing.
I determined early on to be a sports
writer, and did indeed write some articles for my high school
paper. Of course, I also wrote some music stuff, but at least
I was writing. During my junior year, I was soundly disabused
of the notion that I could be a sports writer when my
journalism class visited one of Detroit's then-three major
papers. The writer I chose to visit nearly laughed me out of
his office, saying, "Don't be ridiculous, girl. You can't be a
sports writer. They'll never let women in the locker rooms and
that's where all the good stories come from. Forget about it.
Go write about cooking or babies. That's what girls do."
It was a rude awakening to be told that I
couldn't do something for which I was so well suited just
because I'd been born female. But, to a certain extent he was
right. He was also grossly wrong, thank goodness! It took 25
years, but—a woman did get access to the locker room of a
man's sporting team, and women have been writing successfully
about men's sports since then, in 1977. Those pioneers took a
lot of abuse, but they did the job. They also opened all sorts
of doors in the process.
Of course, in 1952, when this incident
happened, girl's basketball was still played on only half the
court, with six players making up the team—three on offense,
three on defense, and each stayed in their own half of the
floor. Seems to me I recall hearing some nonsense about girls
not being able to run the length of the floor!
Music was my salvation at that time,
providing me with the much-needed boost to my ego, as I
occupied first chair horn in band and orchestra, played piano
to accompany the chorus (when I wasn't singing) and performing
as substitute organist at my church. All this at 16! I was
awarded a music scholarship to Wayne College (later to be
Wayne State University) and as a 17-year old freshman was
plunked down in the 4th chair in the horn section. I was the
only female in the entire brass section, but I didn't think so
very much of that fact, even though most of the guys were much
older than I was, returning as they were from their military
service in Korea.
That year, the college orchestra
(conducted by the assistant conductor of the Detroit Symphony
Orchestra, Valter Poole) was scheduled for several orchestral
standards—Brahms' Symphony Number 4, and Liszt's Les
Preludes as well as a non-standard, Stravinsky's
Oedipus Rex. (Our Oedipus was George Shirley, who went on
to a stellar career at the Metropolitan Opera.) To assist in
my training, I was shipped off to coach with the fourth chair
hornist of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. His comment to me
when I first appeared there was eerily reminiscent of the
sportswriter from two-and-a-half years earlier. "What are you
doing here?"
When I replied that I was going to be a
horn player in an orchestra, he laughed, and again repeated
almost word-for-word that hated earlier remark. "Don't be
ridiculous. They'll never let women in the brass section of an
orchestra! Give it up." He went on to make a few more unkind
remarks about women musicians, but again, he was partly right
and partly wrong. At least, at that time, women could play
something other than harp in an orchestra. Women had gradually
encroached beyond the violin and flute to others of the
strings and winds. But at least they were there, in those
sections! However, it's now nearly fifty years since that
pronouncement and although there still are not very many women
in orchestral brass sections, I'd guess that in most American
orchestras, nearly half of the string and wind section players
are female. A good many of them are section principals, as
well.
Seventy or so years ago, there was a
reaction to this way of thinking; nearly every major city in
the US boasted a 'women's orchestra'. As a high school
student, I was a proud member of the Detroit Women's Symphony,
and when I first came to Cleveland in 1962, I was pleased to
discover the presence of such an organization here, as well. I
no longer had my own horn, so could only watch—and dream—from
the sidelines, so to speak.
And then, of course, there came along
Title IX in 1972, granting women a degree of equality on the
playing fields. Seven years ago the first really serious
women's professional athletic league was formed, when the
National Basketball Association, stunned by the success of the
US women's Olympic team, realized that women of all ages were
equally thrilled by the performances of various women's teams,
and decided to give it/us a league of our own. The WNBA has
been very successful, and will continue to grow. Women's
soccer and softball teams have also done well, as has the one
baseball team, the Silver Bullets. Their success
was somewhat limited, as they had little by way of competition
from other women's teams and had to play exhibition games with
men's teams.
Teamwork is supposed to be part of the
incipient male mentality. Wrong. Entirely wrong. Women can
form teams just as easily, and take as much satisfaction from
seeing a team-mate do well as they can from their own success.
One weekend last spring—April 26 and 27—provided me with an
abundance of such team-work, female variety. It was like
Christmas and Mother's Day and Women's Equality Day (August
25th - my son's birthday, except that he preceeded the
holiday!) all wrapped into one glorious experience.
Saturday night, I was proud to be in
attendance at a game of tackle football, where the two teams
were the Cleveland Fusion and the Southwest Michigan Jaguars.
Women's tackle, full-contact football, as they call it. If you
didn't know they were women before the game started, nothing
seen on the field would tell you that they were, in fact,
women, of all ages and sizes and colors, but just one aim—to
win. They play hard; they hit, they pass, they tackle, they
blitz, they execute. They do not do victory dances in the
end-zone. And rather than pats on the butt, they seem to
engage more in chest-bumps, which I do not understand, but
then, I don't need to. I just need to watch and enjoy, and
thrill in the athleticism exhibited by these wonderful women.
Granted, the Fusion really ran over the
almost defense-less Jaguars, but still, it was pure football.
Played for the love of the game, and for the love of finally
being able to play this formerly male-only team sport. And
quite possibly, for love of being part of a team.
Sunday afternoon, it was a different
'team' on view, this time at Severance Hall, for the 68th
Annual Concert by the Cleveland Women's Orchestra, conducted
by only its second music director, Robert L. Cronquist.
Founded in 1935, to provide women who loved classical music
and were otherwise deprived of the opportunity to express that
love—and talent, to be sure—women of all ages and sizes and
colors once again banded together to make music. Beautiful
music. They play all the orchestral instruments, including the
unwieldy tuba and double bass, as well as the more traditional
violin and flute. And, as with the football team, there are
various levels of quality in the playing. But, just as
sometimes an athletic team will catch hold of itself and
exceed its expected capability, today, the women's orchestra
did just that.
The second half of the program was one
work: Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 2 - "The Little Russian" so
called because of the many Russian folk tunes used by the
composer. Perhaps the women were inspired by the brilliant
young violin soloist, 14-year-old Jinjoo Cho. Or perhaps there
was another unknown reason. Whatever, this was the very best
I've ever heard this orchestra play, and I've heard nearly all
these concerts for the last 25 years. In fact, I've heard
several so-called 'professional' orchestras that didn't sound
this good, didn't play together as well, or didn't play in
tune, either. The principal horn and principal bassoon players
and tympanist were as brilliant as the Fusion's three
quarterbacks had been on Saturday night.
A different kind of team, granted. But,
such a team has only been possible for the last 70 years. Just
think of all the wonderful things the world has missed because
at any given time, half its population was told, 'don't be
ridiculous! You can't do that. You're a girl.' Right. I
was, then. Now, I AM WOMAN.
Get outta my way!
-- Kelly Ferjutz
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