She’s Got Next
Written and photographed by Ally Manzella
Designed by Grace Senior
Sports run in the family. You were the eldest of three, all involved in some type of sport. Ultimate frisbee was yours. You played for 16 years, traveling and competing across the United States. At the tail end of your ultimate frisbee journey, you began to incorporate disc golf as a cool down activity after games or practices. One day, after your routine cool down, a teammate asks you if you want to go and throw with her.
Months later, you were 31 years old in Milwaukee competing in your first disc golf tournament, The Ice Bowl. As you heard your disc clang and intertwine with the metal chains of the hole, you were hooked. The transition from ultimate frisbee to disc golf was a challenge you accepted. From a fast-paced, team field sport, to a slow-paced, individual sport, you had to learn patience. As an individual wired for fast movement, this mentally and physically dared you as an athlete.
You began on a new journey, one that you did not expect. In that same year, you won your first tournament in the top tier. Celebrating your accomplishment, you were greeted by the owner of Mace Man Disc Golf. Impressed by your playing, he asked if you were attending Amateur Worlds in a couple of weeks. When you began to say no, he stopped you mid-sentence and said you needed to. Despite registration being closed, he contacted the director of the Professional Disc Golf Association to specifically enroll you into the championship. You drove to Ann Arbor, Michigan and drove home as the second place winner in the tournament’s top amateur division. Disc golf was not a leisure activity anymore, it was your passion.
Decorated with eight major titles and two world championships, you became recognized in your community. As your playing progressed, you began to realize subtle discriminations on and off the course. You’re a woman, throwing farther than a man, but while you celebrated that, they became resentful. All the women would get grouped together in the junior division of tournaments, just to keep a close "watch" on you. As you began to play more and more doubles leagues, you loudly overheard the men complaining that they “drew the girl.” You laughed at the fact that they refer to you as “the girl” when you were holding a multiple stroke lead on them.
You might have thought times would have changed from 20 years ago. You were wrong. In the fall of 2019, you were standing as the only woman in a tournament. This didn’t scare you; it motivated you. All of the players in your group started out friendly, engaging in small talk between throws. That didn’t last long. Two holes in, you pulled ahead with an eight-stroke lead and one of them began to report his score incorrectly. After questioning the honesty of his scorecard, he began to scoff at the rest of the group. The tension rose and caused the other players to feel uncomfortable; one even left after the first round. In the tradition of the sport, “congratulations” and “good round” fill the air around you before throwing the last hole. You kept your chin up and walked over to him to acknowledge his performance. You raised your hand for a high five, but he looked at you with disapproval and said, “I don’t think so.”
Months later, you saw him again. You were curious to see how the interaction would play out, and were abruptly greeted with a smile and an attitude as if you were best buds. He was in the group in front of you, and everything was running smoothly. As you approached the second to last hole, you began to hear yelling up ahead. You saw him storm off the course. “Now imagine 36 holes of that,” you said to your friend as you watched him stomp away. His 31-year-old daughter, who was in his group, walked up to you, head hung in embarrassment. As she went to apologize for his misbehavior, you stopped her: “The only person you should ever apologize for is you.” You shook her hand and reinforced that it was a pleasure to meet her. Days later, you received a message from her, thanking you for the words you said and how much it impacted her moving forward. You understand the value of support and she now understands the value of individuality.
As you continue to compete and play today, you have also taken on a role as a mentor. Helping newer female players develop their game, you have found your role as an athlete.
A team has always been something you hold dear to your heart. Much like family, they have been through some awful and amazing times with you. As you continue to play, you meet and form connections with people who have been instrumental in your growth and development. Female disc golf players are increasing, and tournament directors help to bring other females together to coordinate and create a bigger division. Although disc golf is an individual sport, you network with fellow female players around you and begin to form your own sense of a team.
You believe in yourself when others don’t. You stick together with other women, not because they force you to, but because that helps you grow, as an athlete and a person.
You are strong, you are persistent, you are Barrett White.
You grew up in Southfield, Michigan, just outside of Detroit. You kept busy with school, hobbies, sports, and spending time with your parents and your younger sister. Staying physically active was something that you prioritized. Growing up, your parents were your number one cheerleaders. You tried a crazy amount of sports and always found them supportive. Sports ended up becoming a huge bonding point for you and your father. You played three sports in high school: track, basketball, and golf. You were not very good at the first two. Golf however, was a sport you excelled at. You found yourself playing sports because it was an active atmosphere where you met many of your friends. As your senior year in high school came to an end, you were a decorated four-year letter, two-time captain, two-time MVP, and a county medalist. As your high school journey concluded, you had several offers to play at Division 3 schools in Michigan. However, in the end you fit in best at Milwaukee's Division 1 college, Marquette University, one who did not have a women’s golf team at all.
Walking onto campus as a college freshman in 2014, you were looking for a new sport. Marquette only had a men’s golf team and refused to let you join due to funding and eligibility in a men’s-only league. They offered to help you start a girl's team on campus, but you expressed that it would be too much to undertake being only a freshman. From there, you decided to try out for a bunch of new sports you never played before: rugby, rowing, and quidditch.
Quidditch tryouts were first. As soon as you picked up a broom for the first time, you immediately fell in love. Much like high school, you were drawn to that special feeling of a team connection. After tryouts, the returning members of the team invited you to grab food at the dining hall. Later going out to a party with them and some of the other freshmen, you became fast friends with everyone. Excitement rushed as you made your way onto the Marquette quidditch team. You felt no need to try anything else; you found your sport.
Quidditch is a little different from other sports you played. It is a co-ed sport with a standing gender rule and is notoriously known for being primarily male-dominated. Therefore, you often hear that in order to be a woman in this sport, you have to be extra assertive and especially skilled to be awarded the same respect as a male player. As you continued to play in college, you strived for Marquette to become an elite team, winning regionals and qualifying for nationals. You lead as president of the team your senior year. Although numbers were small, you were able to qualify for the National US Quidditch Cup tournament in a nail-biter bid game with over nine yellow and red card penalties. After college, you yearned to continue to play. You didn’t feel as though you wanted to play to win, you wanted to play for the camaraderie. Realizing that the mentality of only winning takes the fun out of the game for you, you found your spot as a strong leader on Brew City, Milwaukee’s Club Quidditch Team, in 2018.
In 2015, during your second season at Marquette, you decided to take a field test to become a head referee. You were hoping to meet new people within the quidditch community, and although you think it is silly now, you wanted others to know who you were. You stepped out onto the pitch for your first field test and failed. You understood that you needed more practice. At the next tournament, you were assigned to five unofficial games. After a full day of playing and reffing, you were exhausted. But, nonetheless, when the first event in the spring came around, you passed your field test. You knew you weren’t the best, but with each game you got better and better. You knew you were one of the few female refs in all of the US Quidditch League. However, you tried your hardest not to see yourself any different than the men who were Head Referees as well. You began to witness how terrible players can be towards officials, and this allowed you to adjust your own attitude when you were playing. You knew that as a Head Ref in quidditch, you had to be confident, loud, and assertive. These characteristics are needed regardless of gender. However, as a women you understood that it is even more important that you demonstrate them at all times.
As a recognized player for seven years now, you actively surround yourself with the kind of people who do not bully or discriminate based on gender. That, however, does not mean you don’t witness it happen. As a member of a co-ed organization, you encourage others to see everyone as a member of the team regardless of gender. As a driven player and respected ref throughout the Midwest, you found what was truly important to you as you got older. When life got busy, you made time for the sport you enjoy. It is not always about playing to win, it is about the experience you have and the connections you make that last a lifetime.
You are passionate. You are driven. You are KT Quasarano.
It all started with a paddle and the wall, frankly because you were not tall enough to see above the table. You were 6 years old living in a little Serbian town known for table tennis. If that did not tell your future, then being the daughter of Serbia’s Olympic Table Tennis Coach did. You traveled to the United States for the first time to see your aunt and uncle in Michigan, but while you were away, the war back home worsened. With no way to get back, your father came over six months later.
14 years old, you moved to the Olympic Training Center. Your eyes widened as you stepped foot into your new home. Your father soon became the 1996 US Women’s Olympic Table Tennis Coach, which granted you and your family US citizenship. A couple years go by, during which you won the US Open Junior twice, in 1995 and 1997. This tournament was a little different: Men and women, ages 6-90, would compete against each other. A mix of excitement and nerves spiraled down your body. You locked eyes with your opponent across the table. A man, in his 40s, stared back at you.
Brushing off your clear physical differences, you are reminded of your father’s sentiment: “Always prove your worth at the table, Mimi." As the game progressed, you took the lead. Finishing the game, you watched as the last point was awarded in your favor. You finally breathed and for the second time, locked eyes across the table. With the taste of disgust, he backed up. You could see as the anger slowly built from his stomach to his mouth. He used the only power move he did not play in the game. He stepped back from the table and slammed his paddle down. As the sound echoed through the gym, he yelled “I’m so sick of this. You should go back to your country."
You were 14. Your emotional capacity could not retain the situation you just experienced. Pushing it to the back burner, you continued to train even harder. The biggest challenge you had to face was between the sport and your academics. At the peak of your career, you were not a US citizen yet and could not play for the US Olympic team. You were more upset at the fact you couldn’t even try. You went to college, received your master’s in business, and opened up your own physical therapy clinic. You were exactly where you wanted to be. Applying principals from being an athlete in your work, you began to establish an overlap.
Still competing 20 years later, your paths cross again. This time you were not going to just win the match. Pushing your shoulders back and forcing your chin up, you walk over to him. He greets you as if nothing ever happened. You confront him about the words that still are etched in your mind 20 years later. You tell him the impact he had on you and allow him to gain insight on the situation. You inform him that his power move only made you stronger. With your strength not just reserved to the table, you walk away knowing he is the one looking up to you now.
You are brave, you are ambitious, you are Mimi Bosika.