For the last couple of years I’ve been thinking a lot about love. Specifically, those big, messy feelings I have about the communities I belong to and the platonic love that shapes large parts of my life. I thought about all the meaningful love in my life, and how fortunate I am to live with the bone-deep belief that my community will always be there for me. I felt some type of way when I realized that saying “I Love You” to my best friend feels just as important today as it did the first time, even after 20+ years of friendship. I thought about those fuzzy happy feelings and the butterflies I get in my stomach when I think “Oh, we’re friends now” and the nervous delight of hanging out together the first time. I felt honored upon realizing that there are people in this world who truly and profoundly trust me, and then spent a lot of time feeling nervous about how sacred and delicate it feels to be that person for them. It was when I realized that my desire for a better world is prompted by the desire to see my loved ones breathe a little bit easier, feel a little safer. That I would love to see them with a little less weight on their shoulders and to have more chances to feel joy together. I suddenly found myself with a pressing need to nurture all those important relationships in my life, and the desire to tell everyone around me how important they were.
It’s not like this came out of nowhere, and I lived in the dark about how important interpersonal relationships are. It was - similar to the other major changes I’ve made in my life - something that came about while realizing we were In For It with this pandemic. At the time, I was working for one of the only free-clinics in Chicago that stayed open at the start of COVID-19. The funding was limited, and the Times Were Uncertain. Still, thanks to the relentless work of my colleagues, the clinic was able to establish a telehealth system from scratch and secured access to COVID-19 testing for our uninsured (and often undocumented) patients. It was one of the greatest acts of love I will ever see and prompted by nothing other than a steadfast commitment to our community and the acknowledgment that we had to be there for each other.
So, I started thinking about love, and like most things in my life nowadays, it got me thinking about hockey.
I’m going to preface this by saying that I gave up being embarrassed about caring deeply about hockey a long time ago. I think that caring and wanting to work towards something better is a sign of having hope - and that’s an admirable quality in anyone. Hockey makes it hard though, and I’ve thought a lot about walking away. But what’s kept me coming back are those small shining moments I see throughout. The young queer people who’ve hockey and fan fiction to forge friendships online. How amazing it’s been to witness the start of the Black Girl Hockey Club, and getting to know the hilarious and unapologetic women of The Broadscast and NHeLas. I thought about what hockey has meant for Indigenous folks here and throughout Turtle Island, and the path being forged by brilliant young women of color like Namita Nandakumar, Chanel Keenan, and Clarissa Sabile.
I decided that instead of leaving, I would try to let my relationship to hockey be shaped by love. Instead of spending all my time mad on Twitter, I wanted to work towards something better where all those people in this community have a bit of respite, and build some joy.
This change has required a lot of growth on my part. I’ve had to learn to move with more empathy and understanding that I have to meet people where they are. I’ve learned that there’s always something to learn from someone else. Don’t get me wrong, dunking on someone on Twitter and gossiping are still funny, but taking the time to talk and fostering those relationships has become more critical. I’ve made unlikely friendships (even with some of hockey twitter’s villains du jour) that have pushed me to understand hockey in a different way. I started sharing resources with folks in the industry who also want change but may not know where to start. I hope to one day share the curriculum I’ve worked on with others who care just as much about these issues as I do. I want to open doors and be able to bring others through with me. It’s been a slow process that I’m still figuring out, but it’s been filled with lots of those big messy feelings of love.
I’m under no impression that the time I give hockey will be revolutionary or change the culture as a whole. Nevertheless, I hope that together we can build a little corner in this world where no one has to feel alone. A place where we can tether ourselves to each other every time this sport tells us in no uncertain terms that it Does Not Care about us. I hope we grow to love each other a little more and trust our community a little deeper.
Because like Mariame Kaba said, “nothing that we do that is worthwhile is done alone.”
Other Thoughts:
Surprisingly, Cale Makar's goal was 3rd on the list of nasty things that happened last Tuesday evening. Between the screenshots of the man sexting during a Sabres game and the viral video of Kodak Black having a Little Too Much NSFW Fun in a luxury suite at a Panthers' game, NHL's "horny-meter" was through the roof.
I’d never in my LIFE paid attention to Dylan Larkin aside from that one pants commercial where my brain was just going “BOOTY???” the entire time while Big Sean’s Dance (A$$) played in the background. Wobble-dy wobble-dy wa, indeed. But I recently saw That Video with the beer and had Thoughts. A Michigan Boy who grew up to be Captain of his hometown team???? THIS is what Midwestern Americana Dreams are made of. I refuse to do any other research on him or his social media, and I’m making the wild assumption that his beard connects. 10/10, no notes.
I have this elaborate fantasy about ice skating while holding a sword that features hay stuffed dummies, fire, and a bungee cord. I’ve shared these thoughts with several people and they all think I’m joking. I’m really really not. (Editor’s Note: Naur, I do not cosign this! - Perrye)
Shit I’m Obsessed With This Week
Napping - Honestly, I would probably have more hyper-fixations this week if I wasn’t sleeping so much while still on break. I’m talking morning naps, afternoon naps, post-shower naps. I snack, I sleep, and I watch shitty tv. It’s been great.
Yonaguni by Bad Bunny. Yes, I know this has been like a months-long obsession. What can I say, the Sad Hot Girl vibes are immaculate.
These articles:
My Pet Skunk - An Ode To A Faithful Childhood Friend by Darcie Wilder
ALL THE TV SHOWS ARE ABOUT COPS by Hanif Abdurraqib
Objectivity Is A Privilege Afforded Afforded To White Journalists by Pacinthe Mattar
I would say that’s “all” for this week, but it was quite a bit, huh? Thank you for sticking with me and my corniness so far, lol.
With Love,
Gaby