Our Teacher Serena
photo credit: The Women’s Tennis Association, twitter @WTA
“Come On!” Fist pump.
A kindergartner stays up all night rewriting the alphabet until she gets it just right. She follows her older sister around, jealous of Venus’s early advantages in learning a game, driven to excel when it’s her turn. The alphabet perfectionist directs that same determination to playing tennis. In 1999, at 17, she wins the U.S. Open—in 2017, she wins the Australian Open. Next week, little sister Serena competes at the U.S Open, her final tournament, putting down her racquet after winning 23 Grand Slams, adding French Open and Wimbledon titles to her trophy stash.
Her career and its longevity unmatched, beset by health problems and personal tragedies, Serena stands tall at the pinnacle of her sport. She and Venus won 14 Grand Slam doubles titles and played each other in 9 Slam finals. These accomplishments challenge our imaginations—they will speak, forever, for themselves.
What defies the wildest imagination, however, is the loathsome opponent Serena battled everywhere: the cruel combo of racism and sexism. A white sport—true for too long to its Victorian Age heritage—tennis clothes, balls, and players’ skin all white. Sports always reflect, for better and for worse, the larger society. Serena teaches a herstory course like no other. She faced one opponent across the net—many more adversaries showed up as tournament officials and spectators, as print and online commentators, as post-match and talk show interviewers. Galling, repulsive, repetitive—a garish display of careless racist and sexist stupidity.
A quick study of her story. Informative and with links to good articles, Caira Conner explains in Atlantic “Why Serena Williams Retirement is Different.” This “slammiest singles champion of any gender” fought “two decades worth of public commentary on her body, her race, her attitude, her anger, her wardrobe, her very womanhood.” From Insider, another should-be fictional report of media and tennis establishment abuse appalls. Is it hard reading about Serena, playing the French Open in a catsuit celebrating the self-proclaimed “Queen from Wakanda,” being banned from wearing it again because her attire disrespected the place and game? Yet another article exploring her butt size? How about the one pointing out her body blubber?
But this is Serena’s tale to tell—her telling and outlook, enhanced with photographs in Vogue, may well be her finest triumph. We’re about to see the “end of a story that started in Compton, California, with a little Black girl who just wanted to play tennis. This sport has given me so much.” Uncomfortable with the word “retirement,” Serena sees herself “evolving” from the game into new ventures. She also cries at the thought: “It’s the hardest thing that I could ever imagine. I hate it. I hate that I have to be at the crossroads.”
photo credit: Paul Harris, Getty Images
Look at that kindergartner’s global significance, the young girl in beaded braids who gave her utmost all. What it means for Black girls to see her! For Black boys to see her! Countless children and adults, picking up a racquet, find access and acceptance easier because of her. “Kick butt and be proud of it all.” Serena reimagined her life and permanently changed tennis. What she’s achieved for racial and gender equity ripples immeasurably. No final summary of her accomplishments will be possible—her legacy endlessly opening revolving doors worldwide.
Coco Gauff, Sloane Stephens, Naomi Osaka—world champs who saw Serena hitting balls and knew that they, too, could play. And they compete not only because of her but also, possibly next week, against her. “I’m going to miss that version of me, that girl who played tennis,” reflects The Slammiest. Won’t we all. Drop shot down the line. Overhead smash crosscourt. Ace up the middle.
“Game, set, and match, Ms. Williams.” How many times has a chair umpire chanted those sweet-to-hear words? What player has savored them more? Listen as Serena recites Maya Angelou’s “Still I Rise,” watch a bit of her practice and play, experience her range of emotions. She strides “into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear,” embodying “the dream and the hope of the slave.”
Dreamers everywhere, get up and get going with two of Serena’s favorite pump-up tunes. Fighting against tears? Fears? Close your eyes, catch the beat, let rhythm wrap around your heart. Can you have it all? Irene Cara sings in the affirmative: “Take your passion / And make it happen.” “Flashdance…What a Feeling.” Dance through your life. You’re “Cool,” confirm the Jonas Brothers, nothing but green lights and songs calling your name. “I’m feeling so cool / Top to the bottom, just cool.” Dance for your life.
“I’ve paid my dues / Time after time.” Yes, Serena and Freddie Mercury toiled in sweaty frustration, both admitting their mistakes along the way. Now and evermore, they belt out loud and proud: “We Are the Champions.”
Wanna play the evolving game?
“Come On!” Fist bump.
Told with McCarty’s characteristic wisdom, marvel, exuberance, and good will, Leaving 1203 is about navigating that way through. The author draws on all available resources—friends and strangers, food and laughter, life lessons learned in the very house she now empties, and, not least, her newly-inherited West Highland terrier, Billy. McCarty simultaneously learns and deftly teaches the fine arts of remembering, letting go, and holding on to what matters most. She not only finds the way through, she shows the way.
the greatest gift an author could give a reader… lessons of a universally philosophical and existential kind… a touching journey… a welcome, upbeat ride
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