Breaking The Ice: LGBTQ+ Voices of Hockey
As an avid hockey fan and season ticket holder of the Seattle Kraken, I was dismayed when the NHL announced last year that teams were no longer allowed to wear "specialty" jerseys during warmups, practices or games, and the use of Pride Tape, a rainbow-colored stick tape that's been used in support of the LGBTQ+ community for several seasons, would also be banned. While they have since reversed this decision, it was a clear signal that more needs to be done to foster greater acceptance and understanding in hockey.
My goal for this project is to drive greater awareness of LGBTQ+ athletes and hopefully encourage young athletes who might otherwise quit playing ice hockey in the face of homophobia and discrimination.
Joey Gale
he/him
Growing up in Minnesota, the self-proclaimed state of hockey, meant that I had ice skates on my feet shortly after my third birthday. Though I was never the best player on the ice, my parents supported me at a young age and taught me the importance of being a team player. Entering middle school it was clear that I was different than the boys on my team. As I’d eventually come to learn about myself, it wasn’t until I was 20 that I accepted who I was and came out as gay. Despite my love for the game, the hypermasculine hockey environment during such a vulnerable time of my youth eventually drove me away from the sport.
It wasn't until after I graduated from college in 2015 that I realized how much I missed playing. Still unsure about how my sexuality and the sport would clash – I made a bold move to play with Pride Tape on my stick during some adult league games in the Midwest. To my surprise, my teammates were accepting and supportive, and I truly felt welcome again on the ice.
Following a move to Seattle in 2018 with my partner, Pride Tape played a significant role in my life once again. During a tryout for an adult league in Seattle, another player noticed the Pride Tape on my stick and got in touch with me. In a friendly email a few days later, Steven Thompson introduced himself and shared that he was also gay. The visibility of Pride Tape brought us together, and our friendship began.
Months later, Steven and I assembled a group of queer and ally hockey players in the basement of a local arena to discuss creating an organization for gay hockey players. With the Kraken coming to Seattle, we hoped there would also be momentum for an organization geared toward making hockey inclusive. It was there and then that the Seattle Pride Hockey Association was born.
Assuming the role of VP and Co-Founder, Steven and I got to work. In just a few short years, we've launched the largest LGBTQ+ hockey tournament in the world – the Seattle Pride Classic (SPC) – a training program, and a brand-new league. The deep sense of pride I feel when I meet new hockey players and they rave about our organization is what keeps me going. Steven and I pour our hearts into this because we know how important it is for LGBTQ+ people to have a safe space to play the sport they love.
Looking back on my journey as a gay hockey player, I realize how far we've come in creating a more inclusive and accepting environment in the sport. It fills me with immense joy and pride to be part of a movement that's building community, breaking barriers, and paving the way for future generations of LGBTQ+ hockey players. With the Seattle Pride Hockey Association, we've created a space where everyone can feel welcome and supported. I'm grateful for the opportunity to use my love of the game to make a positive impact in the world and to continue pushing for progress towards a more inclusive future.
Kao Lawrie
they/them
Growing up I spent endless summers playing street hockey and roller hockey with the neighbourhood boys. I played one year of girls rep ice when I was 14/15 but then came out and wasn’t able to navigate the awkwardness of being a queer teenager and team sports. I played a couple years of late night men’s drop-in through my 20s which felt like a better fit but it was always isolating having to navigate gendered changerooms and pretty lonely not really knowing anyone on the bench.
My wife and I moved to the Sunshine Coast in 2021 and I didn’t know anyone so I joined as many teams as I could and I fell back in love with hockey immediately. Even though the coast is accepting, I really wished there were more players like me. So the next year I organized a womens/trans/non-binary inclusive hockey tournament in Sechelt (TTHE Tournament) in hopes to create space for and connect with more queer and gender non-conforming players. We had 4 teams our first year and just held our second annual this year with 6 teams.
I discovered more inclusive hockey (Western Cup in Calgary and Seattle Pride Tournament) and joined the Vancouver Cutting Edges which is an LGBTQ+ hockey association and had hugely transformative experiences being able to show up as myself. After years of driving home sweaty after games, I now look forward to being able to shower with the team. Feeling like I could just access all the spaces at the rink without worrying about homophobia or transphobia, especially after top surgery, is a dream. Being able to help build and participate in an inclusive hockey community has been life changing.
Next I’m headed to the Toronto Pride tournament where I get the opportunity to play in a game of sledge hockey, then off to the Seattle Pride tournament to play with Team Trans for the first time ever with the grand finale of participating in the All Trans Tournament in Minnesota at the end of the summer.
My life did not look like this before finding inclusive hockey and I’m so grateful it does now.
Cam
they/them
I started playing hockey when I was 9. In one of my first practices, I came off the ice and told my mom that I liked playing hockey because no one could tell I was a girl under all that gear. I felt like I could just be me.
My teammates and coaches have always been supportive. I came out to my teammates before I told my parents. One time during a faceoff another team tried to taunt me for being small, yelling “look at the baby goalie – where does he buy his baby-sized gear?” and a teammate was quick to correct them, “It’s their! Where do they buy their baby-sized gear?” Even my coaches get my pronouns right – definitely more often than my teachers at school.
Being trans is only a small part of who I am, but part of the reason it feels that way is that the people around me just accept that part of me.
Julia Takatsuka
she/her
In the crisp air of self-discovery's dawn,
I found fragments of acceptance, newly drawn.
Not the whole, just a part, a glimmering start,
In the echoes of teammates, in the beat of my heart.
In the locker room banter, where jokes freely flew,
I glimpsed reflections of myself, in the crew.
Queer and allies, side by side we stood,
Not just players, but pioneers, misunderstood.
Our stories varied, each a unique tale to tell,
Of coming out, of acceptance, of breaking the shell.
But amidst the differences, one truth rang clear,
We were all just people, overcoming our fear.
College beckoned, a new chapter, a fresh start,
With hockey as my compass, guiding my heart.
As a free agent, uncertain, I took the leap,
Not knowing where I'd land, or what secrets I'd keep.
But fate intervened, with a call, a lifeline thrown,
To a team where acceptance was proudly shown.
Amongst these warriors, comfortable and free,
I found mentors, role models, who helped shape me.
In their stories, I saw echoes of my own,
A journey of self-discovery, bravely sown.
For in hockey's embrace, I found more than a game,
I found myself, my truth, my unapologetic flame.
Now as a coach, I stand tall, proud, and true,
A beacon of hope, for others to pursue.
For in the arena of life, where battles are won,
I found myself, in the journey, just begun.
Parker McDonald
he/him
Being raised by a sports-loving family in a city that loves its teams, I was taught that togetherness and inclusion is what makes a team and sport thrive. The skill or the score doesn’t matter as much as how everyone treats each other, because it’s not just a team, it’s another family.
When I started playing hockey in a women’s league back in 2019, I felt so safe and welcomed. I found friends that have been there for me on and off the ice, and when I started my transition, they stuck by me and supported me. When I started playing in a coed league, that camaraderie was a little harder to find. Some locker rooms had toxic masculinity, which could make changing in the locker room uncomfortable. Chirping on the ice has always been part of the game, but hearing some things that had more of a bite than usual could bring my self-confidence down and make me question if I even belonged on the ice. I stuck with it, not just because I love the sport and wanted to be part of a change, but also because when I was growing up, I didn’t see a lot of people who looked like me in any sport. I wanted to be that athlete for anyone who was looking to see someone like them on the ice.
I found a team of trans hockey players last year at the Seattle Pride Classic Tournament, and that was a gift I never even knew I could ask for. We’re a family from all across the US and Canada, skating, sharing our stories, giving advice, and having so much fun. I hope to see more inclusivity in all sports, not just hockey. I want to stand on the right side of history and be part of a positive, necessary change, because at the end of the day when we put on all our gear and jerseys, we all look the same. Just a name and a number. Doesn’t matter the gender, sexual orientation, or background. We’re all hockey players, reaching for that next goal.