This boxer's participation in the sport is both empowering and sexual; she is crossing gender boundaries by participating in a predominantly male sport, but she cannot be mistaken for a man. Her ponytail swings out from behind, obstructing her vision. The conscious decision to include this element, made by the advertising agency, reflects society's fear of blurred boundaries. What happens when the female sheds her stereotypical softness and child-bearing curves and pumps iron to develop muscle? In our society's view of women in sports, apparent through media coverage, the words "female athlete" have become inextricably linked, as femininity is seemingly inseparable from performance. She is a boxer who wears dresses and muscles-symbols of both genders-as she flaunts femininity and ability.
The main argument lies in whether the term "athlete" can embody both males and females, or whether the word "female" must always be used in conjunction with "athlete" when referring to women in sports. If "female" and "athlete" do prove to be inseparable, is that association degrading to a female's performance?
In this age of image, sports star meets celebrity in ways completely irrelevant to performance. Is our favorite sports figure a result of the image of the products he or she endorses, or are our decisions based solely upon his or her outstanding ability on the court or playing field? It is difficult to argue that we base our judgment simply on performance, completely immune to the pervasive images seen in ads and other media.
If image and performance are intertwined, there is no doubt that female and athlete are connected, as one's gender will always be depicted in image. However, I don't find this relationship degrading in the least. The fact that the word "female" modifies "athlete" allows for her distinction from the male and gives her special recognition as an individual.
Although some may argue that in order for her to be totally equivalent to the male, the female athlete must not be distinguished in this fashion, I contend that this title helps her stand out against her male counterparts. A female athlete is clearly not the same as a male, and although she may participate in the same sports, under similar rules and regulations, she is biologically and historically different. She has not always been free to participate in the breadth of sports now available to her, and these constraints in her past mark the difference in her present.
The current display of an athlete's femininity can be empowering rather than detrimental. Femininity is expressed through many facets, whether through clothing or sexuality, and furthermore, it is an individual expression that distinguishes rather than defeats. When Marion Jones appeared on the January cover of Vogue in a long, sleeveless gown exposing her bronzed muscles, I was taken aback by her awesome power, which in turn seemed to shape her beauty. She did not appear submissive to a cultural ideal, but rather, the stark contrast of hard-earned muscles and a delicate dress enhanced her prowess.
The fact that she was shown in a dress rather than at the blocks might lead some to that the decision to portray her in that way was degrading; however Marion Jones' body alone is proof of many hours of block starts and 100-meter sprints. The mere displacement of her image from the site of her sport to the studio of Vogue does not diminish the impact of her appearance.
My own experience as a boxer has shaped my view of what it means to be a female athlete. Throughout the course of my training, I have heard comments such as, "She can sure fight, but I wouldn't want to see her face get hit," or "She can throw great punches-for a girl." At first, I didn't know how to react to these seemingly backhanded compliments.
I was frustrated that it was alright for Oscar De La Hoya to have a bloody nose and swollen eyes, but the thought of an injury to a female's face was unheard of. Not that I wanted to get punched in the face to quell my frustrations, but come on, if I was going to box, I should be able to handle the consequences.
When the preservation of femininity interferes with performance, then the term "female athlete" has gone too far. However, when femininity is used as a vehicle to express one's performance, I believe it is a positive association. Am I supposed to reject a compliment on the basis that it distinguishes me as a female?
Participating in a sport so underrepresented by women gives me a rush, a feeling that I am crossing boundaries. If I get primary recognition for my sport because I am a female, then so be it. But I better have the performance to back it up.