I found mine in an unexpected place. In fact, it took moving continents to find them. A stroke of luck, a dose of curiosity, and a commitment to myself.

I started my graduate school journey in 2018 when I moved to Cambridge, England to take a ‘quick Masters’ for 9 months -- at least that was the original plan -- and here we are three years later. Part of my commitment to myself in those first weeks was to take on new challenges and opportunities available as part of being at one of the oldest academic communities in the world. While that included navigating the narrow cobbled streets donned in academic gowns to attend weekly dinners, candlelit evening church services commemorating college benefactors, and engaging in endless readings in preparation for the next day’s seminars, a large focus revolved around sport.

It is not that sport was not part of my life before coming here, but it mostly took the form of solitary cycles through the Alberta badlands or roads into Kananaskis and the Rockies. Moments to take away from the busyness of the everyday, to escape from the noise of both undergraduate studies and working professionally, whilst trying to balance making an impact in the broader community at the same time. The gusts of wind which never seemed to be in the right direction to provide respite, thousands of kilometers of rolling roads would give me the time to reflect, recharge, and of course make room for a scoop of ice cream here and there.

So in coming to Cambridge, I would not have said I was searching for a crew. Whether I found them, or they found me, is a question that becomes irrelevant. For three years now, I have had the privilege of rowing with Olympians, national champions, and many like me who picked up the sport here. My crew. From early mornings in the rain to racing through the middle of London, it has taken me places I would not have expected. Physically and mentally I have grown stronger, grit and a previously unawakened sense of competition pushing me through hours of training. It has pushed me to do things I would not have expected a few years ago - trialling for the highly competitive university team for the annual Cambridge vs Oxford Boat Race (spoiler, I did not quite make the cut), running my first triathlon, half marathon, and so many more feats amongst the grind of academic research.

The reality that faces many in the LGBTQ+ community around sport is one of anxiety, discomfort, and at worst, exclusion. A recent international survey found over 80% of sport participants had witnessed or experienced homophobia in their sport, with “70% of gay men believing homophobia is more common in UK sports than the rest of society.” When I raised this statistic during my remarks as a club captain during our formal end of year dinner this month, the room grew quiet. When I shared my story about finding my place and my crew, despite the statistics saying the odds were stacked against me, I could feel others recognizing the same, a sentiment they would later share individually later that evening. Rather than a cause for celebration, it is a genuine reminder of the work that it takes from us all to create that environment, with some expressing to me that even our club could do better.

A photo captured while racing with my crew this week was perhaps serendipitous, with the inclusive pride flag flying in the background as we crossed the line to take the win. Perhaps that is my reminder to take action, to do more in my role within the club. To be better. To include others. To demand that of my peers. It took three years to stand up in front of my crew and ask them to recognize the role we all play in doing so, to show vulnerability of what the impact of choosing otherwise could mean. Joining the Student Team Pride pledge was a first step for our club, with so much more to come.

                  (Rowing in Calgary during a COVID-induced summer vacation, circa 5:15am)