She Could Play

The tryouts were held over two days. We had no idea what to expect, we just knew she could play. 8th Grade Girl’s Traveling basketball in Coon Rapids, Minnesota, land of ten thousand lakes and ten thousand white people. She had no team experience, but pure athletic talent. Farah was nervous, after all she was the only person of color in the 8th grade and one of a few in the entire junior high. The tryouts went okay; she felt like she was under a microscope. It was 1989 and she and I were both nervous. Now, it was only 24 years after inter-racial marriage was against the law. In that 24 years, there had been a lot of movement towards racial equality, but in 1989, people always asked me if she was adopted. I replied, “No, she is my biological daughter”. On this day and all days, I was very proud of her. We entered the gym and I took my place with the other moms; she went to the court and the drills began. Over two days, there were many remarks of what raw talent she had. On the second day, after lunch, the results were in and she did not make the A squad. She was devastated to be on the B squad. We went home, she sat down in a chair, she ripped off her shoes, threw them down and said “I am never playing basketball again”. That was not true, she had a great season on the B squad. She was the star of the team, both a good thing and something that would lead to heartache.

Girls’ basketball was, like Farah, in her infancy. Even though women had been playing basketball since the year after it was invented, in 1989 a women’s professional league could not take hold and in traveling and AAU basketball leagues women were considered, well, second-class. This was all too familiar to Farah, but she loved the game and found a friend in it. The history of women’s basketball included a lot of ups and downs; there is little resemblance with the women who play today. Farah was lucky to be getting in on the ground floor with the B Squad. She went on to play on many championship teams and in college. One highlight is a regional competition when she led the team to victory.

These basketball memories bring a smile to my face as I remember these times, but I also sadly remember the inside of Farah did not match the smiling outside. There were signs all along the way of brain health issues. In college there were many calls home from coaches and mentors concerned about her, but they needed her. Finally, she was back in Minnesota, at home after college, used up by the college basketball system and with few skills to show for it. She worked girls’ basketball camps and found a real gift for working with others and for teaching. The young campers flocked to her. After, many camps and a journey into alcoholism and drug addiction began, she discovered Bikram Yoga.

She traveled to Santa Monica, California to the Bikram Yoga College of India where studied and graduated as a top student. She once again over-achieved trying to fill the sadness. After a time teaching yoga, she returned to music and art. In the last few years of her life, she lived in recovery both from a brain health disorder and from substance use disorder, and while she stayed sober, the brain health disorders overcame her. She always excelled in everything she did. In October 2013, five months before she died, she was interviewed on a local cable television station that featured local artists. The program was called Box of Chocolates and when I view this video, I see so much beauty and am reminded that along her path, she has always blazed a trail. The trail was as a woman of color, then as a traveling basketball player, then as a college basketball player who was only 5’2” tall, then as a yoga instructor, then as a person living in recovery, then as a musician and artist. The path led to both joy and sadness and was informed and determined by a brain health disorder that persisted and insisted. Insisted by making her tired and overwhelmed. The most important trail was as my daughter, a woman I walked a journey in recovery with. A whole system of care failed her and, so did I.

Living on in grief as a survivor of Farah, I relish the joy and embrace the sadness. It is all an impetus to me to be available to help others with brain health issues, always understanding other people's struggles, and living a life in recovery that honors Farah.