Edit Desk: Wrestling for more than a medal

I was frozen in the tunnel awaiting my name to be called. 

I couldn’t understand why I was paralyzed with fear, doubt and anxiety when I had been waiting for this day for so long.

I paced back and forth in the backroom with the rest of my teammates. It was all of our first times wrestling on this mat. 

It was my debut. All of my hard work had paid off. I was about to step on the mat at a Division I university. It couldn’t get much better than that. 

I heard my opponent’s name announced, and I tried to calm myself down. 

“Don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip,” I said to myself internally as I began my run out to the mat. 

I looked into the crowd, seeing so many unfamiliar faces of people from the Lehigh community here to support me. 

I noticed my friends in the corner holding signs and cheering my name.

I’ve wrestled hundreds of matches, in front of more people, on a bigger stage, with more on the line. I took a deep breath and controlled my heart rate. 

I could do this. I was ready.

Then, I wasn’t ready. 

At that moment, all I was thinking about was everyone watching. The snake pit was full of eyes, and all of them were focused on me.

The whistle blew, and I panicked. All the training left my mind. Every takedown, handfight, extra practice and sprint felt like they didn’t prepare me for this. 

All I was thinking about was why I was so nervous. This was just a match, which I’ve done so many times before.

My most reliable moves, my bread and butter, I couldn’t finish. My takedowns all ended in stalemates. 

During the break I sat down trying to listen to my coach, but I couldn’t. Too much was happening all around me. 

Focus. 

I locked in on my coach’s feedback — stay patient and move my feet. Just like we practiced.

I came back to the middle, the whistle blew, and suddenly, I won. 

That was one of the worst matches I’d ever wrestled. I tried to ignore how disappointed I was with myself as I celebrated with my team for winning the first women’s dual in our home arena. 

I may have won my match, but I was so upset with myself. I knew I could’ve done better. 

As I was grabbing my belongings from our bench, little girls started to flock toward me. I painted a smile on my face. I started to talk with them and learned that most of them were local wrestlers. 

They asked for my autograph and talked about the dual. 

“I have never seen someone else like me wrestle,” a little girl said. 

I froze and looked down at a girl who had the same curly hair as me with awe in her eyes.

 She went on to say how watching me wrestle and win made her believe she could pursue wrestling too. I realized wrestling is bigger than just winning and losing. 

I was typically the only girl in a practice room, let alone the only ethnic girl. There were times I questioned if I belonged or if the sport had a place for someone who looked like me. 

Now I’m the representation that I needed. I empower young wrestlers by simply existing.

Going into the rest of the season, before every match, I thought about how I wasn’t wrestling for personal advancement or a medal. I was wrestling for all of the little Black girls who felt out of place,  who questioned if they could even do it. 

Now I’m in my sophomore year, and the Lehigh women’s wrestling team is able to wrestle at the first NCAA Women’s Wrestling National Championship. Our team is double the size with a second group of recruited athletes joining us. 

As my second year as a Mountain Hawk unfolds, I think about my first college match often.

I think about how I felt last year and how wrestling is bigger than me. It helps me stay a little calmer going into this season — knowing that my team, coaches, family, friends, community and even strangers are supporting me. 

My job is to be a good representation and be the person I needed when I was younger.