Elizabeth Olufowobi (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
This article was composed with the assistance of artificial intelligence.
There are many communities a person belongs to at different periods of their life. A school community. A religious community. An online community. A club community. A community that would help you hide a body (we all need one).
The community that helped me grow the most, emotionally and mentally, was my sports community. More specifically, my basketball team in grade 11.
I didn’t get into basketball thinking I’d be the next Michael Jordan or Stephen Curry (though that would’ve been nice). I joined because I needed somewhere to belong. I needed structure in my life. I needed people. I needed a reason to stay after hours at school instead of beelining toward home. I needed an emotional outlet and a place to stop my anxious thoughts from rampaging meaninglessly. Of course, I didn’t realize these benefits at the time. To my past self, I only played basketball because of the societal pressure to use my height to my advantage. But even then, I kept coming back, day after day, with tired legs and the taste of metal in my mouth as my heart pounded in my chest.
The reason I came back for more, while my body screamed threats at me, was my wonderful coach and mentor, whom I will call, for convenience, Mrs. Diane.
Reader, I was lucky to know her. Every team, I hope, has that one coach who goes beyond teaching you plays and running drills, and instead finds a way to bring life lessons onto the court. Mrs. Diane was that coach for me and for many other girls who looked up to her. When she first saw me during tryouts week, she noticed something in me that I couldn’t yet see in myself. She believed in my leadership and my potential, and she pushed me to try harder and uplift those around me. She taught me new skills, encouraged me, challenged me and made me feel like I mattered.
As a young, impressionable and shy teenager, going through conflicts alone can feel overwhelming and daunting. Friendship problems, school stress, family drama and relationship issues, to name a few, can pile up and make you feel angry, vulnerable and exhausted. Having someone beside me whom I could trust and depend on allowed me to let go of the burdens I carried, even if only for a moment. It gave me permission to breathe.
Of course, my basketball team wasn’t perfect. Far from it. We took our anger out on each other. We blamed each other for mistakes. We beat ourselves up for forgetting plays and drills. We were not always kind to ourselves.
Enter Mrs. Diane.
Her solution was to teach us a “goldfish” mindset, because goldfish, apparently, have short memories (quick fact: they actually don’t). The point was simple. When we made a mistake, we were told to goldfish it. Forget it. Don’t stay angry. Don’t play angry. That advice stuck with me. It helped our team’s camaraderie grow. Our trust in one another became obvious to anyone who watched us play together.
I will admit basketball was fun, but there were days I didn’t want to continue. Losing games. The pressure of keeping up with school. Wanting to go home early and watch Murdoch Mysteries. The responsibility of being a good captain. I was tired, mentally and physically. But my teammates were always there. Cheering. Encouraging. Laughing. Joking about drills. Complaining about suicide runs. We were all dealing with things, privately and sometimes publicly, but once we entered our shared locker room, we could leave the weight behind. Basketball gave us an outlet.
And that is what a community is. An outlet. For your anger. Your grief. Your sadness. Your hurt. A place where you are not judged, but accepted. A community might not erase your problems, but it makes them survivable. You are no longer alone. You have your people.
Mrs. Diane also taught me the importance of celebrating people’s achievements, especially the small ones. Just as she encouraged my growth, I encouraged my teammates’ milestones. I hyped them up the way she hyped me up. It felt awkward at first, but now it is second nature.
I do not play sports anymore. That chapter of my life has closed, but Mrs. Diane’s words stayed with me. Show up. Lift people. Be there. Support can look like calling, texting, remembering, giving, laughing at memes, walking together, listening, saying “I see you” or “I believe in you.” Small things become big things when they are done with care.
I entered grade 11 feeling alone, shy and anxious. I left it with friends, confidence and peace. Sometimes, all a person needs is to be reminded that they are not forgotten.
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Elizabeth Olufowobi is a university student and writer based in Calgary. She writes about identity, community and the emotional chaos of growing up. When she is not watching grass grow, she is probably reading, drawing or experimenting with music genres.