Minutes away from entering the start line in my first-ever international canoe slalom race, my stomach was doing cartwheels. I sat in my sparkly star-adorned pink boat in the eddy, paddle resting on my lap, trying to steady my breathing.

Around me, girls were quietly preparing for their runs, adjusting gear, rolling their shoulders, dialling in their focus. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and began to sing ‘Our Song’ by Taylor Swift quietly. It’s something I always do when I’m nervous – a small ritual that helps me settle down and block out the noise.

I was at my first-ever international junior competition in Solkan, Slovenia, far from home and surrounded by elite European paddlers. Everyone seemed to know each other and speak a foreign language. They looked confident, experienced, like they belonged there. I didn’t know anyone. I felt like an outsider, alone in a tight-knit world I had only seen through live streams and race results. I started to question whether I belonged at all.

Maria from Slovakia
Then, out of the blue, a girl paddled over to me and said in broken English, “I love the way the pink blends with the white on your boat and the way your sticker pops out with the colours.” I looked up and smiled. Her name was Maria, and she was from Slovakia. She had a genuine smile and golden hair that caught the sunlight. Even though I didn’t understand everything she said, the way she pointed and gestured at elements of the boat design was enough to break the tension that had been building inside me all morning.

Maria made me feel seen, like I wasn’t invisible in this sea of talented strangers. The design I had poured so much of myself into – the colours, the spark, the energy – had evoked something in someone else, too. My boat design had bridged the gap between two teenage girls competing on the international race circuit.

On the surface, canoe slalom equipment is just tools: light, fast, and designed for performance. The equipment can also be for something much more personal. Boats, helmets, and paddles can be a canvas, an outlet, and a form of self-expression that helps find identity within the high pressure of sport.

Growing up kayaking, I very seldom paddled with girls my age. Most of the time, I found myself paddling down rapids, trying to keep up with my older brother Sam and twin Cody, while my coach Eli led the group. Whether we were working on technique at the Charlotte Whitewater Center, leisurely making our way down the Ocoee, or spending a week camping on the Salmon River in Idaho, I was almost always the only young girl on the water.

Personality and femininity
I searched for small but meaningful ways to express myself through colourful gear, sparkly nail polish, and even glittery lip gloss that would eventually smear away in the water. Those little details became my way of bringing personality and femininity into a sport that requires a great amount of discipline and focus – and in the United States seems to attract more boys than girls.

I had always used my brother’s hand-me-down, dark-coloured boats that looked the same as every other boy’s boat on the circuit. When I was finally old enough to buy my first kayak, I was elated to choose the colours myself. No more black for Georgia, I now sported a pink and white boat that felt more like me.

At first, I viewed it as just a colour choice. But my pink boat became a catalyst for channelling a more confident, feminine inner self. The pink cheered me up, even on the toughest days. I have since added and subtracted stickers and glitter to my boat and gear.

I used to view my boat as a tool for racing and training. Now I see it as part of me. It’s still about performance, but it also reflects personality and intention. Liking my boat helped me stay connected to the sport when I lacked motivation. And in Europe, it became something else entirely – a link. I didn’t yet know that my artistic expression would help me feel less alone, thousands of miles away.

Maria was just the first of many paddlers who approached me at the ECA (European Canoe Association) races. Whether I was in Solkan, Slovenia, Ivrea or Valstagna, Italy, athletes noticed my boat, and from those moments, conversation sparked.

Friendships
I formed friendships with competitors from Poland, Slovenia, New Zealand, and Australia. Even with some language differences, compliments turned into conversations that made racing more enjoyable.

Slalom will always be centered around focus, precision, and speed. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for a teenage girl’s creativity. I’ve learned that being serious about the sport doesn’t mean losing articulation of self. In fact, those are the parts that brought me closer to others, and made this past racing season one I’ll never forget.

Read the original article on Paddler Magazine: https://paddlerezine.com/artistic-expression-in-canoe-slalom/