Laughs and Lobotomies

I was kicked off the crew team.

I quit sophomore year – I was failing statistics 102.

And my anxiety was so bad that I was afraid I’d fail out of school, become nothing, and be homeless.  I was frozen.  I had panic attacks.  I couldn’t breathe.

Which, looking back, and knowing my family, had I failed out, that may well have been the outcome.  They would have let that happen.

So I dropped crew.

Took 2 summer classes (my grandmother gave each grandchild $7000 in an education fund – yes, that only covered 2 summer classes)

And I was able to take 4 courses a semester instead of 5 from junior year on because of that gift.

I got in shape, lost weight, and asked to rejoin the team.

I said I would meet an erg score – 23:30 for a 6k – to earn my spot back.

There was never any talk of my mental health.

Or what became a very obvious eating disorder.

I slowly got faster.  I was lighter than some of the coxswains (not that any crew should have 160lb coxswains but obviously they weren’t interested in winning).

I think my erg score got to 4th on the team.

Weight adjusted I might have been first.

But I wasn’t under that 23:30 mark I said I’d beat.

In races I was put in the bottom boats.

As a junior, with the 4th erg.  Until I “proved” myself.

I was vocal about how lazy the team was.

Supposedly I was the first women’s crew legacy – mother to daughter.  I might’ve been one of Wharton’s first mother-daughter legacies as well – I don’t know.

My uncle and mother gave heavily to the crew programs.

My mother at one point, may have been the largest women’s donor. 

I ran the philly half marathon in November 2008 – my junior year – and broke my finger at the start of it.  I broke it in half.  But I ran the race.  2 hours and 9 minutes.

But I needed surgery, 2 metal rods, a cast, then 6 months of PT.

A teammate also broke her hand at the same time I did.

She was drinking.

Running half marathons was outlawed.  Drinking was not.

I got drunk and went on a rant about the team at a crew party.

About how little they tried.

How little they wanted to win anything.

How they were an ice cream social team who happened to row.

Something like that.

Got carried out of the party, after a roommate tried to tackle me to get me to shut up.

But I wasn’t wrong.

The coach was shit.  He wanted rich donors and happy rowers – not winning streaks.

So did the athletic department.

I was kicked off the team 2 months later – well into the next semester, after I’d chosen my classes.  I was told it was because I did not meet my 23:30 erg score.

I trained the next summer and fall with Penn AC in the single.

I asked repeatedly who had the best 6k on the team from those I knew still on the team.

It was Kelly Burke with a 23:19.

I pulled a 23:17 at Penn AC that fall.

Under Dana Schmunk, who coached me in highschool.

I beat that 23:30 and everyone on that damn team.

My mother and uncle remained heavy donors and involved with the team.

I still got Penn crew emails.

I confronted her about her donations – she was listed as a significant donor in the crew alumni emails.

She denied it.

I felt she chose a damn sport over her daughter.

She could have at least stopped donating.

Whether or not getting kicked off was fair.

She could have had my back.

My dad, every time he got a donation request from Penn crew, he sent it back.  With a note of protest, and a check for a penny.  The postage was prepaid by Penn.  He voiced his support for me and cost them 30 or so cents.  I learned about it from my roommate who opened one senior year. My dad confirmed it.  I think he did it for years.  It was chaotic and beautiful, and just…..thanks Dad.  Thanks for having my back when no one else did.