The article was about Behnaz Shafiei, a 26-year-old Iranian
woman who is quite literally racing dirt bikes for gender equality in her
homeland. According to the article, Shafiei realized her passion for
motorcycles 11 years ago while on vacation with her family. Shafiei observed a
woman running errands on a small motorbike and instantly wanted to learn how to
ride. It was later during that same trip that she would get that very
opportunity.
As someone who was practically raised in a bike shop the
notion of women riding bikes isn’t strange to me at all. It’s no big deal….right?
Wrong.
Iran is a notoriously conservative country where women are
actually banned from riding motorcycles in public and are not even issued
licenses. The country has only recently and partially begun opening sports
stadiums to women (just to watch events!) So yeah……a woman wanting to ride dirt
bikes is a BIG deal.
But for Shafiei, riding isn’t just a sport—it’s her passion.
After dabbling in the sport for a few years, she began pursuing it
professionally. She, along with a group of other female motorcyclists in Iran,
recently obtained official permission to practice on off-road circuits. Despite
this, women are still not allowed to enter competitions or ride on official
race tracks. But all that might very well change soon with Shafiei.
Shafiei was quoted in the article saying, “I’ve never seen a
bad reaction to what I do. People are fascinated when they see a woman doing
such a physically demanding sport. Everyone has something affirmative to say.
Women wave hands and say well done, you are brave. There are people who can’t
believe a woman can ride a motorbike but they’re generally thrilled and feel
very proud.”
As of the present moment, this woman has become my new hero.
While I certainly take for granted the fact that I can ride whatever I want
wherever I want, I am no stranger to being a minority in male dominated sports.
Between dirt biking, hockey and snowmobiling, I spend most of my time tailing
after boys trying to prove my worth. I suppose that being the lone girl in so
many situations should make me feel uncomfortable, anxious and like a bit of a
freak. But in reality, it is one of the most empowering feelings I’ve ever
experienced.
A few weeks ago I rode in the Crazy Ben XC race out in
Clancy, MT. It was my second time participating in that race. The first time I
rode in it, I had only been riding bikes for a couple of months and it was my
very first race. I only crashed about a dozen times…but I finished, and that
was all I cared about. This time I had three seasons of riding under me and a
bigger bike to carry me through. I was still nervous as hell……….but all those
nerves were sprinkled with undeniable bits of confidence.
One of the proudest moments of that race for me was waiting
on the start line for the flag to drop. There had only been five girls,
including me, the last time I took my place on that line. This time, there were
10. My dad has often explained to me that winners are made on the start line.
That’s why in his racing heyday he spent his practices perfecting his starts while
everyone else circled around and around again on the course. On that day though
every single one of us on that line were winners in my mind.
Looking to my right and to my left, I knew that I wouldn’t
win that race. But I didn’t care. It was an honor just to be fender to fender
with so many girls like myself. We were all there because we loved to ride. But
we were also there setting a new standard for what women are capable of. We
have the freedom to ride without restrictions unlike the women in Iran, but
women riders are still not as mainstream as I’d like. When we show up to races
or trailheads, it is still mostly men that surround us. So it takes an extra
determination, guts, and fearlessness for us to show up and ride anyways.
As I waited for our race to start, I observed proud dads
standing next to their daughters and offering them words of encouragement. One
dad even held an umbrella over his daughter to shield her from the blazing
summer sun. They probably grew up in an age where there were no women
riders….let alone any intermixed with men in a race. Yet here they were raising
daughters to see the world and its possibilities through different eyes. My dad
was in the race heat just before mine so he couldn’t be beside me, but I have
no doubt he was thinking of me. He did, however, ask his friend John to stand
near me in case I had any problems starting my bike. As I leaned over on my
handlebars trying to calm my heart palpitations, John yelled over the engines
at me to “Stay calm and breathe.” So I tried to do just that.
One the flag dropped and the race began, everything else outside
of me disappeared as I focused on picking my lines through the rough and muddy
terrain. There was an especially tight, windy section through some aspen trees
that tripped everyone up near the beginning. One other girl rider, who I kept
switching places with throughout the race, crashed or stalled her bike in this
same section every single time. And every time she did, I was stuck right
behind her unable to go around. I didn’t mind though because I’d been in her
place dozens of times and understood the struggle and frustration.
The last time she got hung up there, a couple of guys were
waiting behind me….but they were anything but patient. They ended up riding
right over the top of her tipped over bike because they wanted to keep going so
bad. She motioned for me to go ahead too but I just yelled at her to take her
time. I knew where she was mentally. I told her to pick up her bike, shift it
into neutral and roll down a little hill she was on so she’d be on level ground
to get her bearings back about her. She did exactly what I told her and seemed
calmer for it. When I finally rode by her all I said was, “That section’s a
bitch…..but keep going.” She just laughed and agreed with me.
Ninety minutes or so later, the race concluded. I managed to
steal 7th place out of 10 girls. Not amazing but at least I wasn’t
dead last. I knew that if that girl hadn’t slowed me up I could’ve possibly
snuck up a few other spots. But it was more important to me to stand by and
support her. We girls are still the minority. We’re still the ones not taken
entirely seriously. But we’re the ones who are going to change things for all of
the girl after us. We have to stand together and support one another.
Riding in my humble little race was certainly not the same
level of accomplishment as all that Behnaz Shafiei is achieving for women in
Iran, but it was still something. It is something every single time I strap my
helmet on and rev my engine to life. It takes true grit and grace to persevere
along a path where you’re the minority if not the sole participant. But if
you’ve got it, it’s up to you to break that trail.
