A personal note on my ethnographic experiences in Australian women’s road racing
Written by Suzanne Elize Schrijnder
Postgraduate representative, TASA Sport thematic group
I acknowledge the Ancestors, Elders and families of the Boonwurrung and Woiwurrung of the Kulin who are the traditional owners of University land. As we share our own knowledge practices within the University may we pay respect to the deep knowledge embedded within the Aboriginal community and their ownership of Country.
In autumn 2016, my former university professor emailed me an opportunity for a PhD position at Victoria University in Melbourne, Australia, on the land of the Boonwurrung and Woiwurrung people. In July 2017, shortly after my 25th birthday, I was on a plane from Amsterdam to the other side of the world to do an ethnographic examination of elite female road cycling. As a Dutch woman, I have cycled all my life, but this type of cycling was mostly on an upright commuter bike or the occasional mountain bike (you know, for all those Dutch mountains). In all honesty, I thought road cyclists were wacky for riding on those narrow tires, at ridiculous speeds, so close together, and… doesn’t the fastest just win?
Despite these outsider’s assumptions and lack of experience, I was committed to becoming a racing cyclist. I aspired to do the best ethnographic work that I could. The aim of this quest of becoming a racing cyclist was to understand what complex cultural and structural relationships shape cycling practices and the lived experiences of women cyclists. At times, I felt like I was on the TV show MTV's MADE but without the pedagogically untrained coaches and camera crew.
Through my newly acquired network, I bought an $800 Orbea road bike and I did my first race on 21 October 2017 wearing a mountain bike helmet. When I saw my opponents (women twice and half my age), I expected to win. Undoubtedly, I got absolutely crushed and I learned a lot about cycling, racing and myself.
The unknown of this new field was both exciting and daunting. Through observing and participating, getting to know more people and becoming a familiar face, I felt more included and confident about getting a sense of what this fascinating world entails. But a true sense of belonging? That’s when I bought a new helmet, a new kit and a comfortable seat. I got the look and was ready to ride the world.
Most girls and women get introduced to the sport of cycling through a family member, partner or friend. I had my research. My research was my motivator to get up at 05:15am; to get the train to race in the outskirts of the city and beyond; to try the gels that upset my stomach… Being unintroduced and unfamiliar with cycling customs, I had some awkward interactions. Great for my research, bad for my ego. When a senior man asked me if I had so-called ‘bunch skills’, I suggested that Amsterdam was one big bunch so I figured I could manage riding with six blokes. He did not laugh and gave me a lecture on how to ride in a bunch. I learned how cycling is a serious and dangerous undertaking. Also, I got dropped after seven minutes (i.e. I could not keep up and ‘raced’ by myself for 40km).
The losing and dropping, the awkward interactions, the outright rejections, the uncomfortableness of the road bike, the stress of commuting and competition: it was a tough ride. But I also made cycling friends, built social capital, went on weekend trips with the club, climbed mountains (for real) and slowly started to like the sport. I got better, fitter, sassier, experienced and finally, comfortable. This understanding proved incredibly valuable for when I did observations at the Women’s WorldTour races in Europe or interviewed semi- and professional women cyclists. Many of them came from the same cycling scene and had done the same races as I did. We shared a common knowledge and their appreciation for my efforts allowed me to ask the questions I was after.
Now, after three years of working, studying, riding and living in Australia, I have left this amazing land on which I was privileged to do all the things I was able to do. I am a richer and wiser person, and I can’t wait to ride my narrow-tire-bike on the Dutch ‘mountains’.
Suzanne during one of her many training sessions