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Profile
When my brother was five years old, my dad
bought a racing go-kart for him. At the time I was
eight years old and participating in other sports
and enjoying sleepovers with my friends. I had no
idea that this sport even existed. I asked my dad
all kinds of questions about it and he told me just
to come along to my brother’s first race which
happened to be the next Saturday. So Saturday
morning we all got up early and hit the road. When
we got there I was so amazed at this sport that I
had never known about and how many young kids, my
age, and adults there were. It was fascinating to
learn all of the basics about a go-kart and how to
race it. That night I convinced my dad that I would
also like to give it a try. So for a while my
brother and I shared the go-kart, once every other
weekend I would get to race it and my brother had
the opposite weekends. Of course we went to each
other’s races to watch because we had started
making friends there and it became a family event
for us every weekend and also all of the other
competitors brought their families along as well. I
loved every part of it. My dad was very
knowledgeable to the sport so he began to teach us
some of the basics of preparing our kart for each
race. Finally my dad decided that one kart was not
enough for the both of us so he bought another one
for me.
It didn’t take me very long to figure out
that this was a male-dominant sport and I was
usually one of few, if not the only girl who was
racing. There were 7 different divisions that raced
each night and they were separated by age, the
smaller the age, the slower the kart. I am a really
good listener and picked up on my dad’s
helpful tips very fast; my brother however, is very
individualistic. I began to win races and soon
enough I was old enough to move up to the nest
division and my dad felt as if I was ready so he
bought yet another kart. This meant that everything
was about to change because for one, I was no
longer racing with/against my brother, and two, I
had a whole new kart to learn about. I picked
things up very well and immediately started to win
races which gave me a whole new problem to deal
with, this was the first time I had to deal with
angry boys, and their fathers. But my dad stuck up
for me and told me that just because I am a girl,
doesn’t mean I can’t race with the boys
and beat possibly beat them, but he also told me
that it would be hard too. By the end of the season
I had built up plenty of courage and self-esteem as
well as something that was new to me for the first
time. A season track points championship. We raced
for points, and by the end of the season, whoever
had the most points was named the champion.
The following few years I continued to race and
move up divisions. I was good, really good. By the
time I was a freshman in high school, I had racked
up two track championships and finished fifth at
the IKF Regional Nationals in 2006. My dad and I
talked for a while one night after a race and he
told me that he thought it was time for me to move
on to something bigger and better. He told me that
the next step was to race a stock car. I thought
about it for a while and decided that he was right
and I was ready. The following spring, my dad
bought a stock car for me. My brother had decided
that he didn’t like racing anymore and would
rather help work on the new car. Stock cars are a
whole different ball park. They are full-sized cars
that involve a lot of time, effort, and money so my
dad wanted to make sure that this what I wanted. He
took me to watch a few of the races and I met some
of the drivers, again all male. I was so excited
for my first stock car race and I was very nervous
but my dad promised me I would do just fine. Most
stock car drivers start with no experience at all
and it take many years to perfect the skills needed
to win races, but I already had those skills, I
just needed to adjust them a little.
I was a nervous wreck when I strapped myself in
for the first race. I was shaking and pushing
against my father’s judgment that I should
just try it once and if I don’t like it, I
don’t have to do it. I was a little rusty at
first and then my competitiveness took over. I
finished in the top half of the field and I was
loving every minute of it. As soon as the race was
over, my dad came to the side of my car and asked
how it was and I said “when is the next
race!” I once again picked thing up very fast
and started winning here and there. Stock cars were
a little different, we still raced for points, but
now, we started winning money as well. The better I
finished the more money I won. And we had the
choice to travel to tracks all over, not just one
track. We traveled all over to race because my dad
knew how important it was to get me “seat
time” or experience in the car and on
different tracks. The first year I received third
place in the points at one track and fourth in
points at another. The stock car racing began to
change how I pose myself to other competitors at
the track. I was taught good sportsmanship and
always congratulated the winner but I developed a
new attitude. I would not smile at anyone, unless
they smiled at me, and I would walk with my head
held high because I learned to face the fact that I
was not welcome. I was racing against all men who
were typically middle-aged or older. At first I
noticed small snickers when I walked by or just
plain starring, and it bothered me. So I walked
around like I was invincible and not paying
attention to anything but where I was going. And
the more I won, the worse it got. In 2009, I won
two track championships, one at Dubuque Speedway
and another at Farley Speedway. In 2010, we decided
to focus less on single track points and instead
race as many new tracks as possible including ones
in Iowa, Illinois, and Wisconsin. By this time I
have a large collection of trophies and lots of
newspaper and magazine articles.
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