Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you have some knowledge of the battle Canada  Soccer’s NSWT is facing. Earlier this week, Soccer Canada president Nick Bontis resigned, stating: “I acknowledge that this moment requires change.” Bontis, btw, was also named CONCACAF Council vice-president (North America) earlier this week. He resigned to start a better job. He’s been promoted.

In other news, a New York Times headline this week read: “French Soccer Chief Quits Amid Abuse Claims but Pivots to FIFA Post.” Noël Le Graët resigned after an investigation found federation staff members had endured sexual and mental abuse, but he will stay in soccer: FIFA has hired him to run its Paris office. This is called failing up. This happens often to white men and I’m sick of it.

Randomly, as this is how my highly active brain works, these stories made me think of two stories about Cheetahs. Bear with me…

Earlier this week, while perusing Facebook, I came across a picture of a Cheetah and greyhounds racing. Well, the Cheetah didn’t even bother to get out of the gate. After doing some quick fact checking, this experiment may not have actually happened but hear me out. The race is not the point.

An experiment was conducted to see if greyhounds could compete with the speed of a cheetah.
When the cages opened, folks were shocked that the cheetah didn’t move. They asked the race coordinator what had happened and why the cheetah didn’t move.

His response:
“Sometimes trying to prove that you’re the best is an insult to your self-worth.
There is no need to lower yourself to other people’s level to make them understand your skills, qualities and contributions.
It is better to save your energy for more worthy endeavours.
A cheetah uses its speed to hunt, not to prove to dogs that it is faster and stronger.
Don’t waste your time and energy proving your value to folks who simply don’t possess the skill set to appreciate your value and worth.

Whenever I hear or read about Cheetahs, I think of Glennon Doyle’s prologue in her best-selling novel, Untamed.

“This sweet Labrador is Minnie, Tabitha’s best friend. We introduced them when Tabitha was a baby cheetah, and we raised Minnie alongside Tabitha to help tame her. Whatever Minnie does, Tabitha wants to do.”

…

When Tabitha finished her steak, the zookeeper opened a gate that led to a small fenced field. Tabitha walked through and the gate closed behind her. The zookeeper picked up her megaphone again and asked for questions. A young girl, maybe nine years old, raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t Tabitha sad? Doesn’t she miss the wild?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” the zookeeper said. “Can you ask that again?”

The child’s mother said, louder, “She wants to know if Tabitha misses the wild.”

The zookeeper smiled and said, “No. Tabitha was born here. She doesn’t know any different. She’s never even seen the wild. This is a good life for Tabitha.

She’s much safer here than she would be out in the wild.”

Doyle goes on to describe Tabitha’s thoughts:

“Something’s off about my life. I feel restless and frustrated. I have this hunch that everything was supposed to be more beautiful than this. I imagine fenceless, wide-open savannas. I want to run and hunt and kill. I want to sleep under an ink-black, silent sky filled with stars.

It’s all so real I can taste it.”

Then she’d look back at the cage, the only home she’s ever known. She’d look at the smiling zookeepers, the bored spectators, and her panting, bouncing, begging best friend, the Lab.

She’d sigh and say, “I should be grateful. I have a good enough life here.

It’s crazy to long for what doesn’t even exist.”

I’d say:

Tabitha. You are not crazy.

You are a goddamn cheetah.

I frequently speak to women my own age – white women. They often use the word “stuck” to describe their lives. Maybe they feel stuck in place, in an unhappy marriage, in a job. Maybe they feel stuck in their personal growth journey. Here’s my message to them.

There are two Cheetahs in this story:

1. I don’t need to prove myself. I do what I want when I want. I am happy. I am whole.
2. I live a life that is good enough.

I have been both Cheetahs.

To be honest, I’ve been known to flop back and forth. But something snapped this week for me when I was reading about the Canadian and French Soccer federations. I was so angry. And tired. Women bare the emotional labour in the workplace and household. “The mental activity required to manage or perform the routine tasks necessary for maintaining relationships and ensuring smooth running of a household or process, typically regarded as an unappreciated or unacknowledged burden borne disproportionately by women.” (Oxford)

What’s my point? It’s ok to be Cheetah #1 or Cheetah #2, from one day to the next. But we gotta stay in the race, ladies. We gotta lineup to the start gate and fight. If not us, then who?