I don’t want this caveat to my legacy: “But when the trans train came along, she hopped on, leaving women in the dust.”
Hi Friends, and welcome new subscribers!
Billie, surely you don’t remember when we met at the Virginia Slims Thunderbird Classic in Phoenix, Arizona in 1972. I was sixteen and a would-be ball girl, rejected as too tall to sprint inconspicuously along the net. (Ha. Can’t blame them.)
Undeterred, I found you in the locker room between matches. You were alone in there, in just your bra and undies! No security, no other players, just the two of us. A whole different era. You could not have been more gracious to this star-struck fan and granted me the first and only autograph I’ve ever requested.
You won that tournament, beating Rosie Casals in the semis and Margaret Court in the final. “You’ve come a long way, Baby,” said all the banners. My feminist sensibilities were already refined enough to object to the condescending word “baby.” But I loved those banners. I needed one.
After the tournament, I lingered. One banner remained, forgotten by the organizers. Mine! Even at the risk of being arrested for stealing, I had to have it. That’s how desperate I was for images that reflected my own athletic self back to me.
I quickly untied it from the fence, hustled it home, and hung it on my bedroom wall, where it offered a thrilling, daily reminder of my encounter with you – and of the promise of the women’s liberation movement just getting underway.
About ten years later, I interviewed you for Women’s Sports & Fitness, the magazine you had founded. During our long conversation, I asked what it was like to be famous.
“You ask interesting questions,” you said, generously encouraging this young writer.
More than fifty years later, I have another question. Would you consider speaking out about the need for female-only sports and locker rooms? You could make such an impact. As you know, people still look to you for leadership and inspiration, as I did at sixteen. And as I do now.
Since I no longer have easy access to you, I’ve drafted the speech I hope you’ll someday decide to give. Consider it my sincere way of giving back, in gratitude, for your pioneering advocacy on behalf of all female athletes, including me.
I was wrong. Girls and women need female-only sports. It’s that simple and that obvious. Of course we do.
But as a culture, we have lost our way. I’ve been part of the problem. I have allowed my compassion for transgender people to obscure my commitment to fairness for women.
Ironically, my own need for inclusion – a key plea from trans allies who want to grant males access to female sports – also goes a long way toward explaining my short-sightedness. Please let me explain.
In 1981, I was dragged out of the closet in a public, painful way: sued by my female lover while married to Larry King. The backlash was intense. My sponsors fled, taking their money with them, and there was brutal public censure: both for being gay and for having the affair.
Who supported me? Who reminded me of all I had accomplished, all I represented? The gay community, which morphed into the LGBTQ community. I cannot even count the number of LGBTQ awards I have won over these past forty years. The LGBTQ community has become my community. My people. My family. The place where I myself feel included.
That’s the rub. That’s why I have not, until now, been able to admit that of course women need their own sports.
I didn’t want to abandon these people who have stood by me – and they will perceive this as not only abandonment, but betrayal. Trans allies tend to be unforgiving. I’ve watched in horror as they trash Martina Navratilova for insisting on women’s sports and spaces.
Some of the people closest to me have advised me not to do this. They don’t want me to suffer – again. I’m already bracing for the impact. I expect to be called names. To be shunned. To be excluded.
Young women are understandably upset about boys in their sports and their locker rooms. I can’t keep ignoring them.
Why I Changed my Mind
The Women’s Tennis Association, which I founded in 1973, announced this week that they have begun sex-testing all players. This is eminently sensible, and it would be hypocritical and illogical for me to found an association to benefit women, then, 53 years later, advocate for allowing males to play in that same association based on their self-definition as trans women.
In other recent developments, I’m being publicly shamed: a painful wakeup call. The legendary Martina Navratilova, whom I have always respected, called me out last month. Before that, she had repeatedly invited me to meet in private. I avoided those conversations because I was afraid of the implications if I came to agree with her.
XX-XY Athletics and Jennifer Sey just released this “Make it make sense, Billie Jean King” video, in which they challenge my recent statements such as, “We’ve never said we’re better than the men or just as good, even.” The video includes direct taunts from young female athletes: “So why do you support males in women’s sports, Billie Jean?”
To watch teenage girls mock me – me! – it’s agonizing. I know what I have accomplished. But young women are understandably upset about boys in their sports and their locker rooms. I can’t keep ignoring them.
Am I buckling to pressure? I don’t see it that way. I’m course-correcting. Like coaches, these critics have motivated me to honestly assess what’s wrong with my game, as I used to back in the day. As a result, I’m changing tactics in pursuit of victory – not just for myself, but for all girls and women.
My Legacy
I’m 82. You can’t reach this age without thinking about your legacy. Sure, I’ll be remembered for winning the Battle of the Sexes against Bobby Riggs in 1973. For the record 20 Wimbledon titles. For advocating for equal prize money in all tournaments. And more.
But I don’t want my legacy to be tarnished. I don’t want this caveat: “But when the trans train came along, she hopped on, leaving women in the dust.”
Courage isn’t only standing by your convictions. It’s re-examining and revising your convictions. It’s a strength, not a weakness, to admit when one is wrong.
I am not abandoning the LGBTQ community. I’m a lesbian, and grateful for their support.
At the same time, I have returned to Team Female, my original home, where I still belong.
*
Billie, if you ever decide to give this speech, or a related one in your own words, I’ll happily applaud from the first row.
Thoughts? I’m always curious. With love and courage, Mariah
A lifelong athlete and feminist, Mariah Burton Nelson is the author of hundreds of articles and seven nonfiction books, including The Stronger Women Get, The More Men Love Football. She was an editor and writer at Women’s Sports and Fitness for three years.
Billie Jean King has the platform to do so much good on behalf of girls & women’s sports — taking that burden from young girls. We need her leadership - it will be invaluable. 🌟
Absolutely brilliant speech Mariah - lets hope Billie Jean makes it!!