THE BONDS OF COMPETITION

I came to Dartmouth from Norman, Oklahoma. Oklahoma is an incredibly competitive place, at least it is athletically. Football is a religion here—if we have a losing season, the coach is treated like Satan. In that kind of society, winning and achieving are how you get recognized. I learned that lesson as a young girl from watching my older brother, and then felt it myself. Nobody ever patted me on the head for cooperating well. They'd say, "Oh you beat somebody, "or, "Way to go Moira, you're the best." At Dartmouth, I wanted to compete. I played volleyball, ran track for a season, played JV basketball. I was always looking for the next goal, the next competition.

When I started playing on the rugby team, it just seemed like a lot of fun. I was attracted to the game and the competition, but also to the people. Many of the friends I still have from Dartmouth are through rugby. Rugby seemed all-inclusive. Some terms we'd have 60 women involved in the club. Every Thursday the team had meetings. In theory we'd meet to talk about the lineup for the game, but it was primarily social. Four freshmen in my class got the same tattoo, DWRC, starting a tradition in the club. Now, everybody seems to have a tattoo, but at that time it was pretty outrageous. Rugby felt like a real community. We bonded over hard-fought games in the pouring rain. We bonded on our road trips and our tours. We bonded over the silliness.

I always felt I could succeed achieve goals, get the grade, whatever. When I left Dartmouth, I felt confident that I could do anything. I played rugby intensely for a few years. I coached back at Dartmouth. I played on the national level with the Western Select Side. But at some point I started looking at things in my life I wasn't as good at, things like caregiving, nurturing, cooperation. I went to massage-therapy school, moved back to Norman to be near my family, and opened a practice. I started hanging out with a group of girlfriends; now many of them are having kids. We have a good community here, based on family and nurturing. I have the luxury of time to garden, to cook every day. At our Osage tribal dances I'm the cook for our family.

Just last weekend, the national team had tryouts. I went and sat and watched. I was surprised at how much I didn't need it anymore.

Moira Redcorn is a massage therapist in Norman, Oklahoma.