Every entry in The Rollergirl Project is a small glimpse into the life of a derby girl. This entry is by Ingrid Inhumane who recently went on a medical hiatus from the Rollergirls of Southern Indiana. More pictures of her can be found at Cory's website.
On a brisk Saturday night I went to Hammerheads Bar to attend a “rollergirl” friend’s charity event. Full contact musical chairs defiantly was as exciting and violent as it sounds. My boyfriend turns to me and says, “so, you going to play roller derby?” I remember saying, “HELL NO, I am not going to subject myself to that kind of pain…..on skates”. Little did I know that one year later I would be eating those words when I broke my toe and was bruised head to toe after my first time playing full contact musical chairs. I had literally got off the couch on the last Wednesday in April 2008 and said, “I’m going to play roller derby” and that’s what I did.
Thinking back to life before derby I never felt very tough or confident. Derby allowed me to put myself out there to women that liked the same things I did and didn’t stereotype me. Instead I earned respect of some tough broads that probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day otherwise. I became strong enough to stand up to those that walked all over me and courage to push myself way beyond any line I was afraid to cross. I never stopped to think “I can’t do that” but stopped and thought “I can’t believe I just did that”. As I was climbing stairs to the top of St. Peter’s Basillica in Rome, Italy I thought “I’m going to die by fall or earthquake”……..but I stopped and thought, “If I can jam I can do anything!!” I made it to the top and was so proud that I overcame my fear of heights thanks to getting my ass kicked a few times while jamming.
The love for derby can make you do crazy things. During one particular practice I had gotten tangled in a 5 girl fall which broke my toe stop. As I sit on the roller rink bench crying from anger and fixing my top stop I thought why am I crying. When you put overly competitive women, lactating women and social outcasts on skates together you get emotions, drama and a hell of a lot fun. During my first week of roller derby I went to a slumber party given by fellow ROSI, Tyranni. Even though I wouldn’t tell what happened behind closed doors but at the end of the night I ended up sleeping in a twin bed with two other girls, oh and salsa, wax and streaking was involved. If not for derby I wouldn’t have been on television, did a radio broadcast, been in a calendar, helped fight breast cancer, encourage runners in a marathon or wore ruffle panties on the outside of my leggings.
On my 10th practice I got to choose my name and my first choice was Norma Bates and my number was going to be 1 Bad Mother, but I was so disappointed to find out the name was taken. Next idea was Andromedia Sprain, taken. Ok, reverse; what isn’t taken. I looked in the Thesaurus under sinister names and picked Inhumane. Then I looked for a name I wouldn’t mind being called and that night Ingrid Inhumane was born. From my first bout to my last I have stood behind that persona. I always referred to Natalie as my “slave name” because as Natalie I have to say sorry for bumping in someone or excuse me when I burp. Ingrid doesn’t say sorry and she gets a trophy that says “Best Gasser”. You will probably never see a trophy for best jammer or best blocker, but having a little girl come up to me and tell me I am their favorite is trophy enough for me. I wear my eyes blacked out my lipstick smeared and stitches on my face. Why? Because I can and I don’t have to give a reason, I am Ingrid.