Compartir todas las historias de corredores
Carolyn Su, the founder of the Diverse We Run platform, chronicles her journey as an advocate for diversity and representation in her first NYRR Contributors Circle blog post.
Searching for Identity
Growing up, I heard many words used to describe me: Leader. Kind. Sensitive. Tomboy. Americanized. Oriental. I never knew which box I belonged in. I was born and raised in sprawling, suburban Houston, Texas, straddling two worlds: the culturally robust, Chinese-immigrant community in which my parents were very highly involved, and the “All American,” Abercrombie-clad, white, middle-class America.
While my family instilled in me a strong sense of pride in our cultural heritage and history, the messages I received from elsewhere were quite the opposite. Being mocked by my blonde and light-eyed classmates for my black hair and almond-eyes taught me that these physical traits were ugly and not desirable. Seeing school authorities favor white students and local law enforcement give free passes to white citizens reinforced that rules and laws were applied differently to different people. Witnessing the ways the adults in my Chinese community were spoken to with impatience and contempt made me feel embarrassed by association and motivated me to ensure my own vernacular was without accent and that I conducted myself with efficiency.
I absorbed the disdain I witnessed, and I sought to distance myself from my culture and other Asians. I’m not like them, I wanted to convey.
I operated with internalized white supremacy (though I did not know to name it at the time), and the self-loathing of being Asian American manifested as an eating disorder starting at age 13. It was through trying to conform my body into European beauty standards that I stumbled into running during my freshman year of college.
A Runner Like Me
At first, I did not think about whether running was mentally therapeutic, or even if I enjoyed it. Running was merely a means to an end: a perceived mechanism to achieve acceptance and find my place in the world.
One summer break at home, while I was out on a run, I was surprised to see a familiar face: an auntie (older woman in my Chinese community) was also out running! No one else I knew was a runner, and to see a friend of my parents outside for a run was so shocking that I immediately joined her.
It turns out she was training to run the Houston Marathon, which she had run every year for a decade! My mind was blown: what was this thing called a marathon, and how in the world was she able to run that distance multiple times?!
This auntie, Auntie Estella, was the representation I needed in running. She broke barriers for me. As a young Asian American woman who had been constantly admonished as “tomboyish” for playing sports and who was told that running was a waste-of-time, Western-American hobby, Estella proved that yes, Asian American women could run! I was not alone.
When I returned to college that fall, I signed up for my first marathon. Representation and community in running forever changed my trajectory in the sport.
Becoming a Change-Maker
2017 brought the rise of the online #runningcommunity, and I was eager to connect with like-minded people. As I explored the running world on social media, I noticed the same narrative online that I witnessed in daily life: the white-American experience centered as the assumed norm and standard. Listening to running podcasts, reading running articles, and scrolling running accounts revealed what characteristics people used to define “a runner,” and—spoiler alert—it was not someone like me.
Where were the BIPOC runners, the people like me or Auntie Estella? I looked into basic hashtags, such as #AsianRunners, #BlackRunners, and #LatinoRunners, and discovered what seemed like an entirely separate world. There were people like me! Who ran! And raced!
As I started to connect with and get to know more BIPOC runners online, I wondered why our stories weren’t being acknowledged, talked about, or featured. So many of the journeys and experiences of BIPOC runners are shaped by our various cultures and histories, and they differed from the storylines that were so widely touted by mainstream running media. How many of us were feeling isolated and like an outsider, not knowing that there were communities for us and stories like ours?
I reached out to several of the giants in running media, offering the opportunities to connect with BIPOC runners with inspirational stories to share. Why continue to retell the same journey, when there was an opportunity to diversify and reach a broader audience, to amplify a variety of voices, to more accurately represent the actual composition of the running world?
I was politely dismissed. Every. Single. Time.
As I continued to listen to the frustrations of fellow BIPOC athletes about the lack of representation and the lack of consideration of varied body sizes and lived experiences, I realized I had a choice: either accept the status quo and do nothing, or try to be the change I wanted to see.
The Stories That Need Telling
The first story on Diverse We Run debuted in December 2018. Since then, almost 200 athletes have had the opportunity to share their running journey and experiences as a Black, Indigenous, or Person of Color in the sport. Stories are shared by runners from all over the world, from different cultures, different religions, different abilities, and different body types.
These stories reveal the power of community, both in validating a runner’s lived experience and showing them they’re not alone, as well as in giving courage and inspiration to readers to show up authentically, grow in empathy and awareness, and take initiative where changes in the status quo need to be made.
Joining NYRR’s Contributors Circle is a part of my own journey to choose for myself what words define who I am as a woman, an athlete, and an advocate in this sport we love, and I am looking forward to being able to share in this space together.
Read more content from NYRR Contributors Circle members here.
Photograph by Sofia Jaramillo.