dunking basketball backwards in a gym

Here’s a line from the fabulous novel Nothing to See Here, by Kevin Wilson, that I could relate to on a deep level:

“When I was a kid, I’d been so angry that I was a girl and couldn’t dunk, . . .”

The protagonist loves basketball. Basketball hoops are set at certain heights. As a girl of a certain height, the protagonist simply could not dunk the ball into the hoop. It makes me angry, too.

It makes me particularly angry because I spent my childhood trying to be a musician. But I have uncommonly small fingers, not good for piano playing. I could only play certain pieces, ones that did not require large hands. And I have uncommonly small lungs, not good for trumpet playing. I could only play certain parts, those that allowed for more breath taking and fewer high notes.

I would not go so far as to say I was angry that I was a girl; I have always liked being a girl, for whatever reason. But I was angry that society created these constraints. I was living in a world built for men. For example, there’s no reason why someone couldn’t build a piano with smaller keys.

Anything here strike a chord with you? Are you angry?

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