First, the subject of Shannon Faulkner arose, the young woman who, without exercising, losing weight or cutting her hair, wanted to be the first woman to be allowed to attend the Citadel. The Citadel, to comply with her wishes, was going to have to install new quarters, private bath and restroom facilities, camera surveillance of the hallways and rooms, not to mention classroom modifications; all to accommodate a person who seemed less than serious about meeting the physical, social, emotional and mental requirements to become a cadet. As we all talked our turn, the changes the Navy would have to endure were presented, much of which would be foisted onto the unsuspecting taxpayers. Separate showers, instructors, training facilities, combat rules, pregnancy leave and other highlights were stressed. The sheer impossibility of women in a combat environment seemed to limit female competition in a previously male dominated role. My contention was that Vendela could’ve accomplished all the required agenda without changing the system -- based solely on her unflinching determination and indomitable spirit. “Do you have any idea what that would require of her?” was the querulous reply. Showering with a bunch of naked guys, shaving her head, freezing in a dirty, wet environment, and going without female amenities were just some of the protests that were launched at me, present day post-crash reality not withstanding. I countered with the only things that mattered, PERSISTENCE and DETERMINATION.

PRESS ON . . .
Nothing in the world can take the place of PERSISTENCE. Talent will Not; nothing is more common than Unsuccessful Men with Talent. Genius will Not; unrewarded Genius is also a Proverb. Education will Not; the world is full of Educated Derelicts. Persistence and Determination are Omnipotent.

The point of all this is that in all facets of life, sport and employment, limitations are always being placed on women, sometimes as in the Faulkner case even by themselves. A few years back, women were not allowed to compete on an equal basis with male racers; but were encouraged to embrace a “Powder Puff” system that pitted female against female in a handicapped series that resembled more of a three-legged race than actual competition. Our attitudes place limitations on ourselves and on others, rather than the requirements of what needs to be done. Women, on the other hand, are constantly showing that they should never be underestimated; graciously pointing out that it should be one’s drive and initiative that should be the measure, in sports and vocation, rather than gender. Many women can work within the existing establishment without any alterations whatsoever save one -- our prejudices.

As one who has been privy to quite a few closed end conferences, allow me to say that some individuals have not been kind to female competitors in their dialogues, particularly if they are in their learning curve; compound that if the male racer speaker has been rebuffed by the same said woman racer. Men, generally speaking, do not have to endure such a loquacious, juvenile process of initiation in their chosen sport; why indeed, do women? Trackside, we should accept women racers on the basis of their desire to compete, not on whether or not we can get a date with them. To not allow their excellence to shine through, we are denying rise to our own capability of being an intelligent, competent male. My Afro-American history professor related it, “If a man has his foot on another man’s neck, the man on the ground cannot progress, but neither can the man with his foot on the neck of another man. If he raises his foot, the man on the ground just might prevail, so he must stay to insure his conquest.” A funny little cartoon possum named POGO© put it more succinctly, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

We have the wonderful opportunity to meet women, be it on the racetrack, household or battlefields, as equals. Hell, I’ve seen some women with so much fire that they scare me, and I don’t scare easily, but that’s not the point. I recently had lunch at a Hooter’s™ restaurant and was horrified to find a large table of grown men giggling, spitting and whispering to one another concerning the waitress’s natural endowments. I realize the male ego runs rampant in these places at times, but I went there for a sandwich and a beer; what did these chaps believe? Maybe, just maybe, that the waitress would be so overcome with a fat-headed, immature lout of a patron that she would chuck the whole waitress game for him? In testosterone induced lechery we sell ourselves short, and in selling ourselves short we fail to become in reality what we prize being most -- men. That would be bad enough, but at the racetrack, for the present, we keep or inhibit someone from enjoying a sport that we ourselves love and revel in. There may never be women in a real-life combat circumstance, as my SEAL friends are quick to point out, but there are genuine reasons for those decisions. I can’t do anything about that, although I wish I could. This, however, is a publication about roadracing motorcycles and I can do something about that, because you just read this.

End of sermon. Vaya con Dios!