In my last guest post I let this community know about my love of horseback riding. I talked a lot about how magic the animals themselves were and how they’ve been an important part of my life journey.
Yesterday, while in our lesson I saw the following scene unfold:
A little girl (about 9) on a little pony approached a vertical jump just over 2′. Her approach was spot on and over they went. The little pony was super excited about that and she dropped her head and gave a little buck right after, as little ponies do. The little girl popped off the little pony over her shoulder, face first in the dirt.
The instructor responded as she should, child first, pony second. The pony responded as she should, going to check if her rider was okay (“Oops sorry, did I make you do that?”). The little girl said ow and sat on the ground for a minute. Then she got up, adjusted herself and got back up on the pony with a face full of dirt and no tears.
I watched this and thought to myself that I was seeing something significant. Riding at this level (school barn) is about 99% girls and young women. We have all been where that little girl was at some point and more than once. We likely all will be again. It is a risky sport. And yet, it’s just so acceptable to be rough and tumble in this environment.
As the little girls of the barn grow into teens and young women, many of them start to volunteer or work there to offset the high cost of being in love with horses. Working at a barn entails, shoveling poo, hauling heavy things, getting stuck in mud, and pushing around an animal that can be over a thousand pounds. While flying over jumps or dealing with surprise raccoons (I swear that raccoons say “boo” to the horses on purpose), there remains the constant possibility of getting dumped in dirt, dirt that has poo in it.
In the rest of their lives, these girls are doing other girl things. They are texting people they like and gossiping. They are struggling with the norms this world has set out for them. However, they do all this in the context of not being afraid to be covered in dirt. It apparently doesn’t undermine their identity as girls and young women (the version or gendered expression of “girl” is very diverse at a barn). The expectations in the barn are to do hard work and get filthy while doing it. They literally know how to handle the shit.
When I watched that kid get back on her pony while her mom casually strolled into the arena to check on her (mom also rides), I felt so much pride for her. It wasn’t because she didn’t cry. It was because she didn’t have to cry. Falling off a horse into poo infiltrated dirt was somewhat painful, but not overwhelmingly horrible. What a gift to have so much containment in the activity and your own confidence, that your first thought after recovering your senses was to get back on that silly little pony.
This sense of confidence and containment isn’t unique to riding. I think it can come with many sports. Riding is the only one, however, that always comes with a side of poo.
