Take Control: A Modern Take On Bias

• Alicia Watson, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2013

Mia walked out into the gorgeous midday sunshine. She was ecstatic to finally be out of class. She passed her locker and grabbed her lunchbox.
“Hey Mia, over here!” Raya, Mia’s best friend, called to her.
“I’m going to see Mr Brown today!” Mia said as she sat down.
“Again?!” Raya asked.
Mia spent a lot of her time in Mr Brown’s office, debating. Girls weren’t allowed to join any sports teams, and Mia despised the response she always received;
“I’m sorry Mia. Girls aren’t athletic enough to play sport.”
But Mia WAS athletic.
Mia turned her attention back to her friend, “It’s just unfair that boys can play sport and we can’t!”
Suddenly, a soccer ball hit her back. Hard.
She turned angrily to the group of boys behind her. “Watch where you’re kicking!”
“I’m sorry, did that hurt, princess?!” one of the boys yelled.
“I could beat you at soccer. Leave me alone!” Mia yelled, smashing the ball towards the boys.
“Those boys are impossible!” Mia muttered to her friend.
Then the bell rang.
The chance to enjoy the weather was over.
Mia felt like a caged lioness. Trapped in a cage, with people laughing whenever she tried to break free.
Sport made her feel free, and it was her basic right to be able to play it!
She had to take action.
Once she got to class, she tore a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote at the top, ‘Sign if you want girls to be allowed to play sport.’
At the end of class, she had fourteen signatures.
Three hours later, Mia was at home.
“I can play on the basket-ball team!” she told her parents as she burst through the front door.
“Mia, you could hurt yourself,” her mother said, in a voice that drained all Mia’s excitement.
“No…” Mia said quietly. “No!” she yelled, more forcefully.
‘One ray of hope… and my parents destroy it.’
Mia’s mother sighed. “Fine, we will let you play,” she finally said, “on the condition that you spend most of your time on the sidelines.”
Mia still wished to feel free.
Two days later, Mia was practicing in the school gym.
She shot the ball through the hoop and it barely touched the sides.
Suddenly, a voice rang out in the silent gym like a single gunshot. “Nice shot.”
“I know, I saw.”
She turned around to see that she had just smart-mouthed her coach. She grimaced.
“I want you to play in the semi-finals,” he said to her.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Mia blurted.
“No.”
And a week later, Mia was on the court.
The ball was moving in slow motion.
Going in? Going out? Mia wasn’t sure.
Suddenly, the bell for the end of the game sounded, and Mia turned to look at the score-board. 24-26! Her goal had just won the game!
Her team lifted her onto their shoulders while she screamed in pure joy. She’d done it! She finally felt free.