One high school volleyball game on Sept. 1, 2022, changed our family’s lives forever. My daughter, Payton, was struck in the head and neck by a spike from a transgender-identifying male on the opposing team, causing her to lose consciousness and lay in a fencing position on the gym floor. We later found out she had suffered a traumatic brain injury, leaving her partially paralyzed on the right side of her body and unable to speak or see clearly.
In hindsight, I should never have let her play in that game. We knew the biological male player would be competing against Payton’s team and, like most parents, disagreed with school officials’ decision to let him compete against young women. But what we didn’t understand at the time was just how great of a risk the male’s presence on that court posed to our daughter’s safety.
We do now.
The weeks and months that followed Payton’s injury are a blur of emotions. I became a full-time caretaker for my then 17-year-old, who had always been able and independent. Seemingly overnight, Payton began to struggle with everything. She suffered from debilitating head and neck pain, couldn’t drive, and had to be assisted in school as she worked to relearn basic cognitive processes.
When she would have moments of clarity, the fear in her eyes of what was happening to her mind and body was too much. She had gone from excelling at everything she ever did to struggling to brush her own hair. All of her hopes and dreams, all of her hard work in the classroom and on sports teams, all of the sacrifices she made to chase her dream of playing softball past high school — all of it was gone.
A few months after her injury, Payton started falling into a deep depression. With permission from her doctor, we encouraged her to return to sports — slowly and with a lot of caution. She rejoined her school’s basketball team, and though it took weeks for her to adjust to her new physical limitations, that struggle is what Payton needed. She fell a lot, played with tremendous amounts of physical pain, and she was visibly confused at times. There were a lot of tears and frustration, but she was determined to not have anything else taken from her.
Payton was also able to return to softball — her favorite sport and the one she had hoped to pursue into college. Her injury ended any chance of being able to play at the collegiate level, but Payton wasn’t willing to give it up entirely.
The season started off slow. Her leg would tremble while she sat behind the plate as the team’s catcher, and I would sit behind her, watching as tears streamed down her face from the pain. She couldn’t steal bases anymore because her bad leg would fold up under her, and she could only slide with her gloves in her hands so she had something to focus on.
At a certain point, Payton realized she couldn’t stay silent about the trauma she had endured. And her father and I realized we couldn’t either.
As a parent, all I’ve ever wanted is to protect my children. The government and the education system have a responsibility to help protect our children as well, which is why we supported Payton when she advocated for the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act before the North Carolina General Assembly. Because of Payton’s testimony, North Carolina legislators voted to override Democratic Gov. Roy Cooper’s veto and prohibit biological male players from competing on and against girls’ sports teams.
But there is still far more work to be done. At least 24 states still allow biological males to compete on girls’ sports teams despite the overwhelming physical advantages males possess. These policies endanger our girls’ safety and well-being.
If these states refuse to step up and protect young women from experiencing the harms Payton has suffered, parents must step up in their place. To my fellow moms and dads: do not let my family’s experience become your own. Pull your child from the game. Speak to your child’s coaches. Demand better from your child’s school and from your own state representatives.
Payton has made a lot of progress, and for that I am thankful. The damage to her neck is still substantial, and at her last medical appointment, her doctor discovered her pituitary gland is misfiring. She will have lifelong complications from this avoidable injury.
But I celebrate and support who Payton has become. She is fierce, tough as nails, quick-witted and a little more sharp-tongued. If any good has come from her injury, it’s that nothing phases her anymore. Our once quiet and shy young lady has found her voice.
