A regular high school basketball game comprises four eight-minute quarters, with a typical season having twenty games. A regular football season consists of 10 games with four 12-minute quarters. A volleyball season is made up of 16 matches, all of which are determined by who wins the best out of five. Therefore, by the end of each regular season, basketball equates to almost 11 hours of actual playing time, football adds up to exactly eight, and depending on the skill comparison of each team, volleyball is typically even less. However, when it is all said and done, the season itself is nowhere in comparison. All of the late-night practices, early morning workouts, long bus rides, and locker room conversations equate to a much grander total. The competition itself is pale in comparison to the hours of dedication.

I have played basketball nearly my entire life, so much to the point where I don’t know what to do without it. I am the oldest of four, all of whom play basketball almost as much as I do. We have grown up in gyms, knowing how to dribble a ball before we could even tie our shoes or do our own hair. When I was eight years old, I started playing basketball at my local league. I had hour-long practices maybe twice a week, with an occasional game sprinkled in. I wore my “Yelm League” shirt with pride, beyond excited to be part of a team, especially one where I had the opportunity to beat up on boys. I eventually graduated from this “intense” competition and moved on to play on multiple different tournament teams; at this point, it started to click, and I realized that this sport could really be my “thing.” I began to put a lot more time in, spending my nights off to go to the gym with my dad. I would shoot through tears of frustration and stubbornness when hearing “reach into the cookie jar” for the thousandth time. I will say, sixteen years later I finally realized he was right. I continued to dedicate my time towards basketball, eventually playing year-round, rotating back and forth between my school and tournament teams. The more time I put into basketball, the more I saw my efforts coming to fruition. I have earned the opportunity to play at state for two of the three years of my high school career thus far, and I have also been selected to play on a traveling AAU team called Hoopstars. I wouldn’t be where I am today without dedicating hours and hours of my time. The majority of my basketball career has been spent getting shots up on my own, lifting six days a week, running games with my teammates, and doing everything in my power to either recover from an injury or prevent one. All of this time and dedication was originally made for the purpose of playing in games; however, in reality, it is only a very small sliver of my entire basketball career. Now that I am potentially in the midst of the most important year of my life yet, my junior year, I can’t help but question: is it worth it? Is there really a reason behind all of this madness?

As athletes, our primary motivation is to win. We want to make the deciding free throw, score the final touchdown, hit the game-winning home run, and earn the coveted championship trophy. However, it’s never just that easy, and it certainly does not happen consistently. So how do we get to that point? We fail. We fail over and over again, but more importantly, we learn. We learn how to be better teammates, how to push ourselves past our perceived breaking point, and how to continuously improve ourselves and those around us. Sports help define us and they teach us lessons that take other individuals a lifetime to learn. Playing a sport is never consistent; every day is full of ups and downs, but we are forced to learn how to deal with them. Sports serve as a crucible, molding us into better individuals every day. The court, the playing field, the weight room, and everywhere in between is a classroom, teaching us profound life lessons that extend beyond the realm of athletics. By participating in a sport, we are guaranteed to have an indelible mark left on our character. As athletes, we don’t merely win and lose; we learn and we continuously improve.

Beyond the swift decisions and remarkable plays, sports forge enduring bonds that exist for a lifetime. The profound trust required to leave the deciding moment of a game in the hands of a coach or a teammate goes beyond mere teamwork; it’s a testament to the deep connection created through every leading moment. As athletes, we are compelled to relinquish a part of ourselves and dedicate it to the collective cause of the team. Those moments where everyone operates on the same wavelength — executing a flawless pass, having impeccable timing, moving as a unified unit, or celebrating in unison — epitomize the unique synergy found only in sports. The beauty lies where everyone collaborates persistently toward a shared goal. Having played alongside girls all over Washington, I often enter a gym already sharing a connection with someone on the opposing team. It is an incredible experience to have a friendship with someone who is intended to be the opposition, because regardless of the final score, that friendship will forever endure. As athletes, we become part of something greater than ourselves — a family capable of celebrating victories and enduring losses together. Sports are more than just the end result; they are shared moments and bonds unlike anything else. Through unwavering relationships, we thrive through adversity, not merely surviving but excelling through the toughest challenges.

The excitement of competition is an unparalleled experience — the stillness of the air during warm-ups, the anticipation building with each breath before the starting whistle, and the rush of adrenaline that propels us past our limits. This intoxicating blend of skill, strategy, and unbridled passion transforms an ordinary moment into an extraordinary one. What sets competition apart is its surreal moments — playing in an overtime game, defying the odds to win a match, or realizing every minute and drop of sweat served its purpose. These moments become unforgettable markers of the journey, enhancing the joy of competition and creating a narrative that resonates long after the final whistle echoes. Victory, in this context, is not just about defining moments in a game; it’s about relishing every second leading up to them. The journey itself amplifies the sweetness of triumph.

As the final buzzer echoes, the bonds formed, the lessons learned, and the memories created stand as a testament to the profound impact of sports. The journey, filled with dedication, camaraderie, and exhilaration, shapes not only characters, but it leaves an enduring legacy that transcends the playing field. In the chapters of high school sports, the conclusion marks not an end but a continuation of the narrative. The shared moments and bonds remain eternally imprinted on athletes’ hearts. So, to answer the question — yes. I wholeheartedly believe that playing sports is entirely worth it. Every second, every drop of blood, sweat, and tears, contributes to a journey that is undeniably worthwhile.

Almost all male athletes have male coaches, so why don’t all female athletes have female coaches? I believe that young female athletes deserve female coaches because having a strong female role model and someone who believes in you means the world to a female athlete. Female coaches understand female athletes, while male coaches might not understand the mental and physical struggles that female athletes experience.

I grew up having male coaches, but then switched to Sundodgers. I have been in the Sundodgers organization for four years now, and it has changed my life immensely. I am not only a better softball player, but a better person, and I think this is because I have female coaches to look up to. In our organization, we focus on playing at the next level and we are coached by females who have been through the college process. This causes us players to have great role models and someone to help guide us through the recruiting process to hopefully achieve our goals of playing in college. 

I am lucky enough to be coached by Carli Rasmussen and Shawna Wright. Carli played soccer and softball at Pacific Lutheran University, and Shawna, who is the director of Sundodgers, played at The University of Washington and for Team USA. Having the both of them as mentors has made my softball experience amazing and I will forever be grateful for them. Carli and Shawna aren’t the only mentors I’ve had — Kennedy Robillard and the rest of the Softball University staff have also been through college athletics and are constantly pushing us to be the best we can be and helping us achieve our goals.

Former LEAP member Joh ’nell Clark told me that she met Carli and Shawna when she was thirteen, and at that time she didn’t really take softball seriously and was just having fun. Carli and Shawna showed her how to take the game seriously and also have fun, but she said that they didn’t only affect her softball-wise. She grew up wanting to be a strong, empowered woman like her coaches, and Carli and Shawna are what drove her to start coaching. Now, Joh ‘nell and her sister, Rhyme, coach the Sundodgers first 10U team! Female coaches inspire female athletes to also be coaches. In such a male-dominated position, it’s good to see more and more women step into that role.

There are many talented male coaches, but I definitely feel like there are benefits to having female coaches who know the sport. I hope that one day I can coach and inspire female athletes to do so as well!

What if you decided to join a sport on a random Monday? What if you decided to alter your life with one decision? What if you wanted to try something new for once?

When it comes to school sports, I will always be an advocate for joining one. Although there is a decrease in the involvement of teenagers in sports, there are so many benefits you are rewarded with. You never know what will happen when you decide to join…

Up until high school, I had gone to a small private school where I knew everyone in my grade. Going into a new school, which was about 10 times the size I was used to, I was considerably nervous. I wanted to go through high school as swiftly as possible, avoiding interactions with anyone and not wanting to branch out. I had decided that this was my fate before I even set foot in the building, and it took a toll on how much anxiety I was having.

Thankfully, even through my nervous emotions, I decided to join my school’s soccer team. Although I had played soccer for years before my freshman year of high school, I was not too keen on opening up to a new team. I had some rough times with previous teams and teammates that I had played with, meaning I was not ready to try another one. I built up a stereotype for what I thought I was going to experience solely because of what had happened in the past. Playing on more competitive teams outside of school was a completely different environment compared to what I was about to experience.

After the initial resistance, I went to my first practice, and to my surprise, I enjoyed being on a team with new people. I met girls from different backgrounds that I could never even imagine. I got an insight into how diverse Renton High School is and how everyone comes together to share similar traits and interests. Even though everyone knew each other and were previously friends, I felt welcomed not only to be social with the others but to play soccer. The pandemic took a toll on everyone, making it exciting to meet others and get back to the “norm” again. I am still grateful that I decided to come and meet those girls because they turned into some of my best friends to this day. Those same friends helped me come out of my shell and become the person I am: someone who is outgoing, expressive, and open to possibilities.

Because of the choice to join the soccer team, I was able to branch into other opportunities at school that I would have never joined if it were not for the people who helped me feel comfortable again. I joined my school’s student council and countless other clubs and activities, allowing me yet again to meet new people and observe student cultures.

Other things I learned from sports were competitiveness, teamwork, problem-solving, and leadership. This has led me to want to break the stigma behind joining new sports teams and make it a welcoming environment for all who want to play as well. Getting other peers involved in these same situations creates a better school atmosphere.

Still, three years later, my friends and I hang out, play soccer, and participate in school leadership. I was even shown other outside-of-school opportunities, helping further my growth as a person.

Whenever I am asked to write to a younger peer or my past self, I always suggest playing a sport. Not only was I able to stay active, I was able to make meaningful connections with others, which will stay with me, even out of high school. You can not answer “what if” unless you go out and see for yourself.

In this article, I would like to explore a topic that’s not only close to my heart but also a key focus of the Washington Interscholastic Activities Association (WIAA) – the crucial role of inclusivity in high school sports, with a special spotlight on adaptive sports. The WIAA commits to respecting all individuals and communities, providing a safe environment for positive and healthy activities, including providing equitable and diverse opportunities, strengthening character, instilling confidence, and maximizing potential through sportsmanship, leadership, and service. This article’s focus is on how this noble mission embraces adaptive sports, ensuring every student has the opportunity to thrive in high school sports. Let’s explore this vital aspect of inclusivity championed by the WIAA.

Why does inclusivity matter in sports? It not only matters but is necessary. It means ensuring everyone, regardless of their physical or mental abilities, has an opportunity to participate. It’s about creating an environment where differences are not just acknowledged but celebrated. Adaptive sports, tailored to athletes with disabilities, play a critical role in this. Adaptive sports modify traditional sports to meet the needs of all athletes, with physical or mental disabilities. These modifications level the playing field, allowing athletes with disabilities to compete and excel in sports they love. From wheelchair basketball to sitting volleyball, adaptive sports are as diverse as the athletes who play them.

Inclusivity through adaptive sports breaks down barriers. It challenges stereotypes about what athletes with disabilities can achieve and promotes understanding and empathy among all students. When schools embrace adaptive sports, they’re not just fostering athletic talent; they’re cultivating a culture of inclusivity and respect. Today, organizations like Seattle Adaptive Sports and Special Olympics are working to make adaptive sports accessible for all. And beyond this, participating in sports has physical and psychological benefits for all students. It boosts self-esteem, fosters teamwork, and improves overall health. Along with this, the impact of inclusive sports programs goes beyond individual benefits. They’re a powerful tool for social change, promoting equality and acceptance in the broader community.

For true inclusivity, adaptive sports shouldn’t be an afterthought but a key component of high school sports programs. Schools need to actively promote these opportunities and ensure they’re accessible to all students. Let’s champion a world where every high school athlete, regardless of ability, gets their chance to shine. Inclusivity in sports isn’t just about playing the game; it’s about changing the game for everyone.

Entering my first year of high school, I was confident I wanted to play volleyball—not only did I love the sport, but before my arrival I caught word of a rumor that “Interlake volleyball is getting a 6’2 freshman!” While I am not actually 6’2 (5’11, close enough) I felt I had to fulfill expectations to the best of my ability. What I encountered during this season was an incredible group of girls working together to play highly competitive volleyball. Though I look back on that experience very fondly, with an abbreviated season from our hybrid, post-pandemic schedule, and no real semblance of the school’s dynamic or culture, my understanding of what the future would hold at that time was greatly obstructed.

My first official experience of high school was my sophomore year, 2021, now with in-person learning. My nerves from the thought of having to build an entirely new social circle dulled quickly as the Fall volleyball
season began. There was an immediate bond throughout the team—even more significantly here than from the season prior. Despite our variety of backgrounds, differences in class, or even preexisting friendships, there seemed to be an overarching consensus that forming a connection with every person on the team was a priority. We attributed a ton of our success to this chemistry, pushing us through stressful five-set matches and dawn-till-dusk tournament days.

After finishing our last games at State, the season came to a close. As the glamor from the preceding months faded into a memory and my day-to-day lifestyle calmed, it did not take long for me to see the reality of my school.

Interlake is unique. For those who aren’t familiar, the International Baccalaureate (IB) program is a rigorous academic curriculum where students are required to learn and test in a broad scope of subjects, earning a diploma if they pass. Traditional IB is completed through the student’s junior and senior year, but with Accelerated IB, students can earn the diploma early by starting the program their sophomore and finishing their junior year. Interlake offers a trifecta—General Education, Traditional IB, and Accelerated IB. While this variety of educational pathways offers many opportunities, it has also produced a clear element of disunion. This problem is exacerbated by the reinforcement of these divisions: there is minimal overlap between General Education and IB, and even Traditional and Accelerated IB hardly intersect, despite involving the same classes in many cases. Distinctions structurally led to distinctions socially, and now stereotypes and stigmas run rampant between the different cohorts of Interlake.

Being in Accelerated IB, playing a high school sport has been one of the only consistent opportunities for me to branch out beyond the people in my particular curriculum. I have been able to form amazing relationships with people on separate paths, sustaining and cherishing them throughout my four years. And I am not alone in this experience—I have witnessed friends and peers connect with people from all different grades and groupings, starting solely from the court or the field. At Interlake, I’ve found there is more power in playing a sport beyond just staying active and engaging in competition—it has become a vessel for mending divisions and expanding empathy across differences.

I am so grateful for Interlake. I’ve been able to meet incredible people, gain supportive mentors, challenge myself academically, and grow immensely as a person; I have experienced these things to such a degree that I don’t believe I could have anywhere else. But there are changes to be made, and we are changemakers.

One of the many reasons I love being a part of WIAA LEAP is because we get to actively address systems and give voice to making changes. And one of the many reasons I love Interlake is it has shown me that while we wait for systems to change, I have a clear and powerful action step. It is my individual responsibility to find ways to reach across barriers—to be a bridge builder. We can all do this through sports, clubs, activities, and interest. Building community is exciting, challenging, and there for the willing. Because the great news is you don’t actually have to be 6’2 to get in the game.