“Girls don’t play hockey.” And other myths we’ve busted.
Earlier this month, I sat in my living room watching the Canada-US women's hockey Rivalry Series finale taking place in Summerside, PEI. What caught my eye wasn't just the extraordinary level of play – though watching Danielle Serdachny's lightning-fast breakaways and Laura Stacey's power and precision was certainly mesmerizing. It was the shots of the crowd that moved me: young girls with sparkly red maple leaves painted on their cheeks, proudly wearing hockey jerseys while waving pom-poms. They were witnessing, firsthand, that women can be both powerful athletes and feminine, that strength and grace aren't mutually exclusive.
Watching the game also made me think about the stark contrast to the time period of my novel "Next Time". The novel begins in the mid-1970s in Toronto, in an era when girls who wanted to play ice sports didn't have the option of playing hockey; instead they played ringette, a sport invented specifically for girls because hockey was seen as unsuitable for them.
In Next Time, my main character Maddie’s daughter, Anne, plays ringette, while Maddie herself forges a path as the only female engineer in her firm. Both mother and daughter navigate a world of restricted choices and limited role models.
The transformation from then to now is remarkable. Today's girls watch as the Professional Women's Hockey League showcases world-class athletes who are also doctors, lawyers, and business leaders. They see women like Hilary Knight not just playing hockey but competing at a level that silences any lingering doubts about women's athletic capabilities. These players aren't just athletes – they're living proof that past restrictions were based on prejudice, not potential.
This evolution mirrors the broader transformation in professional fields. When Maddie pursued engineering in the 1970s, she was usually the only woman in the room. Today, while we still need more women in STEM, girls can look up to female engineers, scientists, and tech leaders. Each generation of pioneers has expanded the realm of what's possible for the next.
Watching those young fans in Summerside, I couldn't help but think about how far we've come. Today's girls don't just dream about playing hockey – they dream about Olympic gold. They don't just hope to work in STEM – they plan on running the lab or the company.
This is the power of role models. When girls see women succeeding in previously restricted spaces, whether on the ice or in the boardroom, it transforms their sense of what's possible. The limitations that seemed so natural in the 1970s are revealed for what they were: artificial barriers that crumbled when challenged by determined women who refused to accept them.
What dreams are today's girls forming as they watch women excel in spaces their grandmothers were told they couldn't enter? What barriers will they break, inspired by the role models before them? I'd love to hear your thoughts on how female role models influenced your own path.