I make sure my braids are snug underneath my red helmet. I secure the velcro straps of my sparring gear on my chins, feet, and gloves. I check the wall of papers listing groups for the Annual Taekwondo Tournament. My eyes explore as I search for my name. I hear a group of boys laughing and scoffing as they point at their sheet of opponents. As they walk past me, I hear one confidently say “bruh it’s a girl, that’s going to be the easiest match ever. It’s a given win”. Filled with curiosity I walk over and take a glance at their sheet. There spells my name and I am the only girl versing four boys.
As I stand there gathering all the information for my matches, the parents of the boys, I assume, stand in front of the sheet. “Let’s hope this doesn’t get too feisty. I don’t want to be hearing another fake injury because my boy is beating a girl up”. My hands start trembling out of frustration and a rush of heat runs up the back of my neck. I mask an indignant look as I leave the lobby and enter the gym. I wanted to say something. I wanted to speak up for myself. But I rather save that energy for when I enter the ring.
We shake hands and I form into my fighting stance until I hear the whistle cue to go and the boy “wishes me luck”. After three rounds my hand gets raised as I won the match and the boy shakes my hand for the last time. We both part our ways off the mat and I see his parents standing in shock as they comfort their son’s loss.
I ended up leaving with two first place trophies. Just because I am a girl enrolled in a Martial Arts Academy doesn’t mean that I am defined as fragile. I do this for the fun of it and I shouldn’t have to prove myself because of my gender.