By now, every horse racing fan on Earth has heard of Black Caviar–the uber-horse from Australia who’s won 24 races in a row, as of today. (25 March 2013) This record has not been equaled in over 100 years of Thoroughbred racing.
But her race record is not the most remarkable property of the great mare. No, the thing that strikes me most strongly is that Nelly, as she’s affectionately called in her barn and by those of us who love her–so strongly arouses many strong emotions.
Not unlike human females who strive to gain a foothold in the world of horse racing.
Now, the irony as I see it is this: Black Caviar has scores of fans–millions, perhaps. Countless admirers, all over this blue marble of a planet. The big, strapping (16.2 hands/ approx. 5/8″ at the withers), dark horse won her respect, one race at a time.
And the problem as I see it is that--for whatever reason–Nelly is spoken of as being a freak.
I hate that word.
I’ve always hated it.
I know that it’s common lingo in horse racing–that there have been horses throughout the course of history who’ve done things that are so spectacular, so above-and-beyond–that the only word that seems to say it is, freak.
But as a writer, I must remind you that language is destiny. That’s how social control and the status quo are maintained, isn’t it? To state that a word “always has been used” is the same as saying, “It’s always been done that way,” or “Well, why would women want to be on the Board?”
The fact that a word or phrase has “always” been used to describe someone is not an excuse.
Cannibalism has always been a practice in some cultures, but not everyone involved in the transaction benefits therefrom.
The use of this word to describe an animal whose talents are otherworldly–heavenly–absolutely superior–speaks more of a lack of imagination on the part of the writer or speaker than it does of the horse, herself. Any human who can witness an animal whose very presence implies the presence of Greatness, itself–and to reduce that attribute to the lowly status of freak–says more in the utterance of that word–bout themselves–than they say about the horse.
But this has always been the way of the world: to diminish something that we can neither grasp nor achieve, ourselves–is a very human trait. Call if sour grapes: even if we admire the over-achiever like Black Caviar–that part of us that knows that we’ll never be extraordinary, ourselves, must qualify the compliment by utilizing a word that draws into question the achievement and the achiever.
It’s the Tall Poppy Syndrome–a term originated in Oz, itself. When we see a poppy that’s taller and more grand than the rest in the field, that poppy must be mowed down so that the rest of us (the other poppies) don’t seem to be short and less-grand.
The Tall Poppy Syndrome. It’s held back a lot of females over the years. Black Caviar is merely the most recent outstanding woman in horse racing who’s been slapped back down into her “rightful place” by a designation such as freak.
One of the contributing factors to Black Caviar’s wild success is the human culture into which she was born, and in which she thrives. Remember, Oz is the same continent that gave Makybe Diva to the world, with no apologies. The rest of the world outside the United States seems to be much more egalitarian regarding female horses. It’s here in the U.S. where the 19th Century is lived and re-lived, from board rooms to starting gates.
Black Caviar is big, hulking, strong, dominant, fierce–and she chews up the ground beneath her hooves. If you’ve never watched her race, you’ve missed out on one of the most soul-stirring experiences, ever. Her front hooves consume the ground before her: she will not be controlled by Mother Earth.
She is of the Earth, but not bound by it.
Black Caviar is the archetype–the very spiritual embodiment–of the strong, capable female of any species. It never occurs to her that perhaps she “shouldn’t” do something–because, perhaps, it’s not “ladylike,” or “becoming.”
She does what she does because she does it.
The more I research the roles of human women in horse racing, the more I see the need for the Spirit of Nelly to take over. Yes, there are a ton of women on the track–in Saratoga, at least, the majority of exercise riders are females. There are several women jockeys out there now, but most of them still are treated pretty badly by some trainers and other jocks. Plenty of female grooms and hotwalkers out there. Several wealthy women who are owners, who thereby call the shots.
But let’s look at the Board rooms. Has no one noticed that, a few months ago when Andrew Cuomo named the restructured NYRA Board–only one female was named to the Board? I don’t know about your math skills, but one out of 13 or 17 is not 51%, by any stretch of the imagination.
We’re the majority of the fan base, we’re the majority of faces walking the Earth–and yet only one female sits on the NYRA Board? In 2013?
Hello, Mr. Cuomo? It’s 1863. They want their misogyny back.
My theory is that, Mr. Cuomo could not have given us the majority stake (“us” being, women)–as is our rightful place. Simply put, I speculate that he was afraid that we’d take over horse racing. That we’d run NYRA better than he could ever envision–and that would mess with his 19th Century, Old World thinking. (I’m Italian, I’m allowed to write that.)
Lest you think that I’m done ranting--I’m not. It’s not just the Board rooms that need to reflect the true picture of the horse racing community, by any means.
When’s the last time you looked at the masthead of your favorite horse racing magazine or newspaper? I don’t mean the Pony Club newsletters online, or the We Love Horsies groups on Facebook. I mean the hard-core, horse racing periodicals for which people pay–paper editions and online, as well.
The next time you pick up your fave racing publication, please read the masthead. Tell me how many females are publishers of those magazines and newspapers. There may be one, but certainly not 51% of the publishers are females.
I’m just sayin’.
But if paper horse racing media is myopic regarding women in high places–then the broadcast media (television, radio) are actually blind. Today, 13 years into the 21st Century, the only females we see on racing TV are young-ish, “feminine” and, well, hot.
Not a lot of middle-aged women who wear size 18 grace your TV screens, unless they’re waitresses in the background in a track clubhouse. And yet, how many short, fat, bald, ill-dressed male commentators have primo jobs? (As I’ve always said: he men who have the nerve to tell me that I should look like Cindy Crawford…all look like Danny DeVito.)
The young, hot female commentators may very well know their stuff–but the fact is that they’re a concession to the outdated myth, that women are merely decorations on top of the cake. Frosting. Pretty to look at. Why do women have to be young and pretty, yet men can be old, nasty-looking and obnoxious?
It’s the same double standard that encourages race fans to utter the word, freak, even while admiring the enormous achievements of Black Caviar.
If she was a he, no one would be amazed by her prowess.
Horse racing radio is just as guilty as TV. I can think of perhaps two females who are on racing radio–but I cannot think of a single female who hosts her own horse racing radio show–either news or Op/Ed. (If I’m incorrect, I really do want to know–so please drop me a line, and tell me all about her.)
It’s impossible to give any serious consideration to the ridiculous notion that women can’t or just don’t know as much as males, about horse racing. If women can get Ph.D.s in Electrical Engineering and Astronomy–we can learn to read a Racing Form, and to form opinions about horses and the sport.
So the reason for the glaring lack of women in horse racing radio is really very simple: sexism lives. Those who have the power to hire women as hosts of shows–don’t.
Writing from personal experience, I have a killer voice and am very comfortable in a radio studio. Several dialogues have taken place to date, but, ah, nope, no one yet has realized that this killer voice should be massaging the airwaves and dispensing racing news, opinion and interviews. It amazes me to think that, IF and when I find a producer for my show–it will be the first in America, ever. (Again, unless I am dead-wrong–in which case, I really want to know because I’d love to meet these women who are doin’ it.)
But, like Black Caviar–we women who know racing, cold, are thought to be freaks. Instead of looking at the 51% of paid admissions at race tracks, and realizing, Wow, that’s a reflection of the 51% of the population–the American horse racing media continue to overlook us. Are they afraid of what may happen if smart women are at the mic, or in the publisher’s office? What if we’re sitting at the head of the Boardroom table?
Like Black Caviar, we’re not content just to know that we’re good, and smart, and capable. We want to run. Nelly leads the way, showing us how to inhale the very ground beneath our feet. Every time she crosses that line first, she has millions of others riding on her back. Like the Big Horses before her–who happen to be packin’ female parts–like Rachel Alexandra, Zenyatta, Makybe Diva, Azeri, Ta Wee, Busher, Winter Memories, Zo Impressive, Questing, Rags to Riches and Genuine Risk (to name a few)–a filly or mare takes the hearts, souls and hopes of millions into the winner’s circle. We females are all about cooperation, not domination–and when one of us wins, we all win.
Come on, American racing: acknowledge that Black Caviar is The Best. Omit that derogatory noun, freak. Now, once you’ve practiced that a few times–hire intelligent, savvy women as publishers, TV commentators and radio show hosts. Bring us into the Boardrooms of racing (and other, related) organizations. Start referring to us as, “Our Publisher” and “The host of our show.”
The minute you forget the word, freak, you’ll also forget to describe human female professionals using cutesie adjectives.
No one refers to Bob Dotson as “The adorable Bob Dotson,” or “The sassy Dotson…” No, Mr. Dotson is an accomplished, seasoned professional. No one would insult him by describing his physical attributes when talking about his career. So why do professionals–who should know better–ever mention, even in passing–how good Diane Sawyer looks?
As long as we allow language to gently hold women down by doing it as it’s always been done, we perpetuate a system that’s holding back 51% of the talent out there. Fifty-one percent of the potential to grow the sport by including everyone in the game, in every aspect, across-the-board.
Black Caviar is not a freak, and I am not cute.
We are professionals in horse racing.
Period.
