Weightlifting awards, competition jerseys, award plaques, and signed championship t-shirts line the walls of the varsity weight room of Ainsworth Gym at Smith College. The whiteboard has messages to teams and coaches surrounded by hearts, scribbled stick figures drawn to be buff, and signatures that say “this team was here!”
Most of those teams are varsity teams at the college. New England Women’s and Men’s Athletic Conference t-shirts sharpied by the volleyball, rowing, and basketball teams are framed and hung high. A custom scoreboard lists the current records of “Smith Sports Performances” made for the 11 varsity teams, with five competitive categories: squat, deadlift, vertical jump, broad jump, and chin-ups. Each team lists the name of the teammate with the highest numbers. Littered neatly around the room are color coded dumbells, jumpropes, and medicine balls.
Next to the mirror, though, a laminated sheet of paper stuck to the whiteboard with a magnet gives instructions on how to clean the room up to another group of athletes that use the same space. “Club Teams: thank you for respecting our weight room.”
Between varsity and club sports at Smith, there are the little differences that cause an underlying divide, and the big differences that add salt to the wound. The little differences can be found in merchandising, social media branding, team bonding activities, and fundraising. The big differences are the multi-thousand dollar discrepancies between teams, the access to resources, and the reputations teams hold.
Smith College is a Division III school, meaning we are a part of the National Collegiate Athletics Association (NCAA). Smith prioritizes academics over athletics, doesn’t provide athletic scholarships like D1 and D2 schools do, and abides by NCAA rules while still maintaining some self-governance.
I’ve interviewed over 20 people to compare and contrast perceptions of how athletics fit in, or don’t, at Smith.
The Smith athlete is not a monolith. But it’s college, so of course there are in-groups to be a part of, and therefore out-groups to be avoided. Some Smithies want nothing to do with the D3 world, whether it be playing or spectating, while others dedicate their whole lifestyle to sports. Sports engagement at Smith is truly a spectrum.
“I just feel like athletics are really separated from the rest of campus, you know? It’s separated from Smith culture and other orgs on campus,” said Nancy Jimenez-Sandoval, a Smith College senior, at the Smith vs. Salve Regina University lacrosse game in April.
I disagree with Nancy for more reasons than one, but our opposite views speak volumes to how students view the culture of athletics at Smith. Sports are a polarizing topic for both funding and social reasons, and I want to know why that is.
Nancy Jimenez-Sandoval and Tana Liu with their roommate Yasmin Grant’s bighead that they had custom made, wearing handmade T-shirts at a Smith lacrosse game (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Why are Smith athletes so judged by students who don’t play sports? Is it a case of the classic jock divide, or something deeper?
I’ve been to all different kinds of sporting events as someone on the club rugby team. And from campus newsletters, to social media, to merchandise, and even the student newspaper The Sophian, Smith seems to spend a lot of time focusing on varsity sports specifically. But when we speak of “Smith,” who are we referring to? Students? Administration? A godlike, all-forseeing being that has possessed the vessel of Senda Bear? And why does that attention have such a negative connotation?
Many students find the attention given to athletes to be overzealous or unmerited – even though ironically, criticism is still attention. Whether it’s claiming the rugby team is messy, saying ultimate frisbee isn’t a real sport, or making fun of the basketball team’s Instagram account for using AI to depict one of their players as a Lego, players feel the criticism.
There’s no club sport chip on my shoulder; I wear my fuzzy bear ears to the basketball games like any other fan, and I show up to the field hockey games in the fall. But I do notice the differences in attention and money granted to club teams versus varsity teams. I see how my rugby team navigates funding versus the way the basketball team does – or any other club and varsity teams for that matter.
Jimenez-Sandoval and her roommates show up for their fourth roommate, Yasmin Grant, who plays lacrosse, shouting supportive nicknames, even as fans in foul weather – literally and metaphorically. “Let’s go Big Y! Let’s go Yazzy!”
Senda Bear and fans at a Smith Lacrosse game against Salve Regina (Photo by Veronica Murray)
For a group that could not be less interested in athletics, and believe that athletes exist as a bubble within our tiny microcosm, they showed up with their full chests, beaming with spirit and enthusiasm. They even wore handmade t-shirts to show their support. You can’t say Smithies don’t show up.
But this kind of support isn’t how all Smithies approach athletics. It takes personal care to show up in the rain when you’re not the athletic type. The students who have these seemingly high statuses are our roommates, our classmates, our friends, and our peers.
They are simply D3 athletes, some of whom tend to win, and therefore are dragged over the coals socially for a misconception that they see themselves as celebrities in our little corner of the world. This isn’t to say that every athlete is perfect, or completely deserving of positive attention, but what people fail to take into account is that the D3 pedestal athletes stand on is sustained by administrative support.
”I get frustrated to be very honest, I think women sometimes are the worst at supporting each other,” said Kristin Hughes, the director of athletics at Smith. “And you see a woman do well and instead of getting behind that and really supporting them, we tend to get jealous and petty, and knock each other down, and it drives me crazy.”
No one is safe from the judgement of a Smithie – part of the culture here is to strive for perfection. We hold ourselves and each other to high standards. Sometimes the balance of that sentiment isn’t sustained well, and creates a gap for judgement, which is very selective here. The seemingly overly-dedicated lifestyles of athletes who wear their team-branded parkas and championship sweatshirts make many students think that athletes have big egos, which isn’t true, according to Hughes.
“When you win, people pay attention,” she said. From Hughes’s perspective, people view “winning” as a dirty word due to the big time stories of higher division athletes cheating or transferring to more successful schools. “That’s not a story here,” she said.
Kristin Hughes watching the Smith vs. Clark basketball game (Photo by Veronica Murray)
The professionalization of collegiate sports generates big money for many D1 schools, but at Smith, that isn’t the goal. The money made for athletics goes right back into the programs. There’s no profit for any individual athletes, nor the administration. Any money that’s technically “made for the school from athletics” is simply the tuition gained from recruited athletes, but that tuition doesn’t immediately get reallocated back into athletics.
Athletes like WNBA basketball players and former collegiate standouts Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark can be seen all over the internet, with massive fan bases. High performance collegiate athletes, many of whom are queer, are gaining traction on social media, and the representation is exciting. There’s a feverish enthusiasm for women’s sports right now – basketball especially. This parasocial aspect of that fandom trickles down to the lower divisions, but our school is too small for anything parasocial. On such a small scale, perception of others becomes personal.
“I’ve heard some mutterings of ego or bravado. There might be a misinterpretation of something that we are pretty adamant on: we talk about winning [and] success, we drive for it,” said Kelsey Parks Smith, athletic director of diversity, equity, and inclusion. Parks Smith is a Smith alumna, and was on the equestrian team – previously a varsity team, now a club sport.
“We talk about pressure as a privilege, how to show up in those big moments, [and] swag and owning a space. We definitely don’t tout being egotistical or bad members of society at all,” she said.
The Plight of The Smith Student-Athlete
Recently, The Sophian published an anonymous article in their February issue, by a satirical writer using the pseudonym Genderqueer and Inflexible. The article, titled “The Plight of The Smith Student Athlete,” takes readers through a hypothetical day in the life of a Smith athlete.
The first paragraph leads the reader to believe that there is a sense of advocacy for the negativity athletes face, but it takes a wild turn into a painfully accurate description of the habits of campus’ favorite athletes to hate.
Readers can’t tell if it was written by an undercover athlete or a NARP — slang for a non-athletic, regular person — who had a failed situationship with a varsity athlete. However, it was certainly a scathing smear-piece that pressed hyper-specific nerves. It was equal parts hilarious, accurate, hurtful, and mortifying all at once.
“After dinner, it’s time for the library,” the article reads. “You have forced all of your group project members to meet at 10 p.m. to accommodate your practice schedule. When you arrive unshowered, you remember that you are stupid and incapable of contributing, so you tell them you have to get up early for practice tomorrow and walk back home to the quad.”
The article goes on to call out the “emotional unavailability” of the D3 lifestyle, and how athletes don’t have time for girlfriends or situationships, as that would get in the way of “future careers as star members of adult soccer rec leagues.”
Genderqueer and Inflexible, as it turns out, is a varsity athlete herself. Hillary Connor, a writer for The Sophian who often covers sports with empathy, substance, and perspective, explained the inspiration from the piece. She said it didn’t come from the bottom of her heart, but rather the the bowels of the Smith College Confessional.
Confesh, as we call it, is an anonymous blogsite in which a lot of attention and often hearty disdain for athletes can be found. Connor explained that after scrolling through Confesh with her friends, she thought the posts about sports were so outlandish that they would make a perfect satirical amalgamation to get people to be a little more self-aware.
The name Genderqueer and Inflexible is a reference to a 2025 Confesh post, which was of a sexual nature. It said, among other things, “I’m cis[gender] and bendy,” and quickly became an inside joke on the site.
Search the word “sports” on Confesh, and there’s a seemingly infinite scroll of posts, from lists of “the most evil to least evil sports teams” or “hottest sports teams” to people saying things like “most people think D3 is a joke, let’s be more self aware” and “can Smith get us FloSports subscriptions for free?”
FloSports is a subscription service provider that streams live sporting events. Smith uses FloCollege to stream its varsity games. Subscriptions cost $9.99 monthly or $71.88 annually.
Electronic banner board promoting FloSports’s collegiate sports streaming service, FloCollege (Photo by Veronica Murray)
“Why do only the D3 teams get a media day, but club teams don’t?” one post reads. “The basketball team thinks they’re so much better than everyone else. They take funding when we’ve defunded the library and closed dining halls,” reads another.
Not everyone has to like sports, but these comments are a glimpse into the flack that athletes face.
“There are aspects of athletics that are intrinsically obnoxious,” Connor said. “That’s true of everyone. It’s annoying when you’re in Seelye [Hall] and there are theater people who are singing in the staircase. It’s annoying when an athlete comes into your class and they stink and they have 80 bags. Everyone’s annoying.”
Connor explained from her perspective that there’s a superiority complex that people have about their commitment to sports, like waking up at five in the morning, but that all Smithies fall into that if they’re involved on campus in a niche of any kind.
Pressure to Play
Even at a D3 level, the pressure can be too much, especially when players get injured. In Riley Austin’s case, she had to quit softball because she was missing too much class, and because she injured her wrist. Austin is now a senior. She quit after getting injured her first season.
“We had our list of game days on a sheet of paper and a signature from coach and we’d give it to each of our professors. Like a doctor’s note. ‘Here’s how many times I’m going to be missing class, despite your attendance policy,'” she said.
Austin was honest about her experiences, and told me about the differences between her high school team and Smith. She said her high school team and travel team back in California had more resources. At Smith, she and her teammates had to pay for their own travel for their spring break trip for their annual tournament. She originally was going D1, but decided her academics were more important. She said she didn’t get the balance that was sold to her on her two recruitment trips to Smith.
“I couldn’t hit. It was just making me feel worse and worse and digging me into the hole when I kept starting and I kept messing up so bad.”
One of the biggest differences between varsity and club sports is recruitment. The process begins as early as seventh grade for some athletes, and in junior year of high school, they get invited to different colleges to tour campuses and meet coaches. Many people assume that being recruited automatically means getting a financial scholarship, but at the D3 level, at Smith, that isn’t the case. Sports on the varsity level are a boost in college applications, but are certainly not a free ticket into the college.
Brooke Everson is a first-year student on the lacrosse team. A conscientious person who likes a regimented lifestyle. She said she wanted three things: to go to college, to be in the military, and to play lacrosse. A D1 school couldn’t give her all three, so she chose Smith. Everson recently sprained her ankle during a game, but continued to play the next two games after that in a brace. She said that she thought Smith lacrosse would be less pressure than it is.
“Division 3 doesn’t give out scholarships at all. So we’re doing this, literally taking money out of our pockets in order to play. I wanted playing time, honestly, and I knew I wouldn’t get that as a first year at a D1 college. And I always wanted to join the military, [but] I didn’t want to quit lacrosse. So, I picked the best of both worlds,” she said.
But despite injuries and pressure, Everson loves her team. “This team is different from other lacrosse teams. We’re inclusive, friendly, and kind. I honestly can say I like every person on this team.”
Brooke Everson’s family wearing yellow and blue face paint in support at the lacrosse game (Photo by Veronica Murray)
I’ve taken a few sports psychology classes with professor Erica Tibbetts in the exercise and sports studies department, and it changed the way I view sports. She always invited us to share our thoughts before she shared her own, but she was generously honest when I interviewed her.
“We’ve seen a couple of different pieces of media of cis women and girls who [say], ‘If I lose to this trans person, I won’t get my scholarship.’ That is not a trans person problem. This is a college problem. You shouldn’t feel like you need to win this 200 meter race in order to go to college.”
According to Tibbetts, although Smith certainly puts in more effort than most, college sports overall aren’t doing any favors to diversity or accessibility. While recognizing the hard work her colleagues put in to recruit and treat potential student-athlete Smithies with care and respect, she also questions the collegiate athletic systems that are normalized. She believes that ending recruitment would allow for broader access to college, and would alleviate pressure that student-athletes face. In her ideal world, all colleges would be cheaper and more accessible in the US.
“I think we should stop recruiting. That’s my hot take. No one agrees. It would mean that people are attending a college because of the academics, and that they choose to play a sport,” she explained, clarifying that her critique is of the system at large, not Smith athletics staff or coaches. Schools across the country function this way, it’s not an issue unique to Smith, and it only gets more intense in the higher divisions.
Tibbetts discussed how the leg up of recruitment isn’t necessarily equitable for theater actors, musicians, or students into robotics. To her, it’s odd that an athletics department can provide this in a way that other departments can’t.
At Smith, there are some cases in which students are allowed to walk onto varsity teams. Rowing allows walk-ons as a part of their recruitment process, and for other teams, if a student really wants to play, they are given the opportunity to try out. That was the case for Maggie Emery, a sophomore engineering major.
Emery played rugby her first year at Smith, but knew that soccer was what she was truly missing. To be a part of the soccer team, she had to win the coaches over. To her, the main differences were the mandatory aspects of practice. For rugby, club members show up to practices simply because they want to, but for soccer, varsity players specifically have to show up.
Inside of a Rugby post-game cheer circle, thanking teammates, spectators, and the other team (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Student-athletes at Smith are hard workers. Everyone I spoke to said they prioritize their academics over their sport, which is a feat in itself at such an academically rigorous college. On top of academics, student-athletes spend anywhere from 15 to 35 hours a week at practices, games, tournaments, and lifts, which is not counting the additional time they spend at bonding events, at team meals, or at mandatory inter-athletics programs for varsity players. For example, Austin recalled having to regularly work at the volleyball games as a line referee – this is not a norm within club sports.
“I will always put school before soccer. But it’s really hard to skip — I did [today] actually — because I stayed up late doing my homework,” said Emery.
For most sports teams, there is a tone of “Well, I’m doing so much work too, and I’m still showing up. So, why are you skipping?” she said. To Emery, her showing up has to do with not only loving her sport, but respecting her coach and her fellow teammates. “I feel like I have to prove myself in some ways, and work hard to show why I’m on a team because I wasn’t recruited,” she said. Regardless of the journey to her position, Emery feels supported by her team for the work she puts in.
There’s a spectrum of pressure that athletes face, whether it’s from coaches, teammates, or self-inflicted. From what I’ve gathered and experienced, club sport athletes take themselves and their sport more seriously than what coaches expect of them – coaches expect dedication, but there’s no air of mandate. Dedication to club sports comes from a peer-to-peer influence.
Lunadisc, Smith’s ultimate frisbee team, has an interesting model of sport, in that a part of their competition strays from traditional athleticism, and adopts positivity instead. “Spirit of the Game” is an award given to the team who stays the most positive and uplifting during a tournament, promoting fair play and sportsmanship.
Smith students, in Lunadisc, playing frisbee in a tournament game against Mount Holyoke’s ultimate team (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Rugby and frisbee both have themed practices once a week in which players have to dress up while running around. We often have to share field space due to scheduling and lack of practice space, which has historically caused unresolved, underlying beef between the teams. However, sometimes it’s possible to spot rugby players wearing outlandish costumes, and of course, frisbee players can be seen in their infamous tutus – all of which are items traditionally willed down for generations from upperclassmen to underclassmen.
“We are so silly and non-pressure, and yet Luna is competitive, especially this season,” said Shalini Setty, president of the team. “Every year I’ve been on Luna, we’ve broken seed at regionals and in no way, shape, or form were we maybe going to make it to nationals. And we don’t even really want to because it’s complicated and it’s financially difficult. We joke, ‘road to natties!’ But no one’s like, ‘God, if I don’t go to natties, what’s the point of playing?’” Setty and her team enjoy going to regional tournaments every year, and in order to go they have to fundraise the money via bake sales, team calendars, and merch to pay the tournament entry fees.
I got to see the joy of a frisbee tournament for the first time this semester. It was unlike any other sporting event I have been to, and it’s not just because there was an enormous communal bucket of pickles for the team.
There’s something grand about platforming positivity within sport and still being competitive, but self-aware. It’s a unique reprieve to the pressure of collegiate sports, while still giving people the option of athleticism and community.
Lunadisc is sometimes an easy target of mockery within the sports world at Smith, which is not merited. I play rugby, which can be a brutal sport, and I can confidently say that ultimate frisbee seems incredibly hard to play. But to be fair, if there’s a substantial amount of running involved, you can count me out.
Lunadisc frisbee, with one of their team mascots, a moth (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Frisbee has a freedom that many teams don’t – the freedom of gender non-conformity, as they are not under any strict conference compliances. USA Ultimate’s current policy is accepting of players of all genders and sexes. There is encouragement to express personality on the field, and the positivity to sustain an accessible culture. However, whether you wear tutus to frisbee practice, or your NEWMAC championship sweat-set, you won’t escape the eye of a Smithie.
Ironically, the basketball team sometimes receives a similar treatment of unwanted attention for being on the other end of the sports spectrum. You have to have somewhat of a thick skin to be an athlete at Smith.
Body-Talk and Basketball
I asked Mya Williams, a power forward and center on the Smith basketball team, what she enjoys about basketball. “Basketball just brings me a sense of calmness that I can’t really find in other places a lot of the time. I can dissociate and work out, but also be with my friends and have fun,” she said.
Williams believes engaging in sports in college is a necessary experience – it brings people together and gets people to learn unexpected things about themselves, like learning that screaming your head off at basketball games is fun. It is a form of connection.
Her girlfriend, Julia Fink, sitting next to her, expressed an opposite opinion – she doesn’t think sports are vital to college culture, at least not in any way that’s comparable to academics. Fink said that a school doesn’t need a big sports culture to have a thriving community, but understood the validity of Williams’ experiences.
Smith basketball players watch as a ball is shot into the basket. Clark’s fan section and bench watch along with them. (Photo by Veronica Murray)
I laughed and realized Williams was wearing almost head to toe Smith basketball merch, even her backpack. “I’m not wearing this by choice, by the way. We have to wear Smith gear this entire week for the Kids’ Camp. It can be controlling. We get a lot of merch though, like this varsity jacket,” said Williams, laughing.
She was exhausted from the postseason jitters of hosting a sports camp for kids in the local community, Kid’s Camp. Basketball players have to show up in their best Smith attire and be counselors during final exams season.
My conversation with Williams was particularly interesting, as we got into a discussion about body shaming and gender assumptions at Smith. She explained how she lost weight over the summer, and tends to present more masculine now, and how that combination caused some unwanted attention.
“We were talking to [The Huddle Club], and a lot of them said something like, ‘You look so good now,’ or, ‘You have muscles now, you look like you worked so hard this summer.’ In some capacity, it’s like, yeah, I did, but also, why are you paying attention to an 18 or 17 year old’s body?”
The Huddle Club is a fundraising social group for the basketball team. According to the page on the Smith Athletics website, it aims to “give members of the community and supporters of our program an inside look at what it means to be a part of Smith Basketball.” To join, you must donate $500 dollars, plus $100 dollars for any additional family member, and you also must be older than 23.
The membership perks include an extensive list of invitations to exclusive basketball team events, complimentary gifts from the team, and meet and greets with coaches and players. Such as, “In the Huddle” Smith Basketball apparel that only club members will receive, a “complimentary” FloSports livestream account to stream all home games and conference away games, and a breakfast with Coach Lynn Hersey.
From Willaims’ perspective as a woman of color, and as someone who has struggled with weight, the experience for players who aren’t skinny, blonde, white girls can be painful. If a player doesn’t fit that mold, and can’t run up and down the court in the blink of an eye to shoot three-point shots, then they aren’t the essential basketball body type.
“That’s the fucked up part about basketball,” she said.
When talking to Everson, she felt similarly about sports at Smith, expressing gratitude for her opportunities and teammates, but still addressing the problematic nature of gender topics and body-talk in sports.
“Lacrosse is a bleach blonde sport. So everybody who I played with is usually copy-pasted, but not on Smith lacrosse.”
I was explaining to Everson that because the college is a historically women’s institution, from my perspective, internalized misogyny can bleed into our community. The gender binary is far more woman-adjacent than most places, and therefore we sometimes seek our own constructed binary. While she appreciates that Smith lacrosse is different than most, she still feels the effects of gender discourse.
Everson’s teammate, Dacri DeAngelis, a senior on the team who recently tore her ACL, explained that part of her decision to play at Smith had to do with gender. She once played against a team that had “Lady Mavericks” on their jerseys, and it really bothered her. She made a point to choose a school where male-dominated spaces both in academics and sports weren’t the norm. “I don’t want to be defined by my gender, and I certainly don’t want it on my jersey,” she said.
Darci DeAngelis, recovering from an injury, watches her team from the sidelines (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Everson continued, “Darci and I were just talking about [gender], and about how masc people here are treated like men in a way. I feel like people assume the worst with mascs. You’re assumed toxic until proven otherwise.”
On a spectrum that ranges from feminine to gender non-conforming to masculine, masculine people have a tendency to be placed in the box of “men.” Sports as a whole have a masculine connotation. Transmasculine people at Smith have historically been drawn to club sports as accepting communities, which further adds to this conflation of masculinity and athletics. I believe that this is one root cause of the judgement that Smith athletes face.
Everson echoed my thoughts. “Sports are more masculine – that would make sense why people would assume people are toxic athletes,” she said. “I have experienced firsthand a lot of double standards.” She also experienced the unwanted body-talk that Williams did, being told, as a joke, that she has boney legs, and that she’s too skinny and not big enough to be masc. “If I said that about a girl and she wasn’t masc – canceled. Other athletes probably feel the same way.”
The Mascot in The Mirror
Tensions were high but so were the spirits at the Smith New England Women’s and Men’s Athletic Conference (NEWMAC) basketball game against Clark University. The gymnasium was full of Smithie fans buzzing. Across the court, among the stands, sits what looks like a sweet couple wearing fluffy bear ears. Joan, an alumna, and Robert are old friends who live in the area. They started the bear ear trend to honor the school’s new mascot, Senda. Joan kindly bestowed me with a pair of my own.
The “Senda Bear” mascot is named after Senda Berenson, who came to Smith College at 24 years old to be a gymnastics instructor. She is hailed as the mother of women’s basketball, specifically creating the first ever women’s team at Smith College in 1892. We officially changed our mascot last year in May, after 40 years of being the Pioneers.
I asked Joan how and why she gets involved with the Smith basketball games, and she explained, “Well I’m part of the Huddle Club.” I had no idea what that was prior to our conversation. I left the game with many questions.
Joan, an alumna and member of the Huddle Club, and her longtime friend Robert, wearing fuzzy brown ears and Smith Basketball Nike Sweatshirts (Photo by Veronica Murray)
After we spoke, I started to realize that the Nike symbol was everywhere, even branded on the floor of the court, which I initially thought was unusual for a D3 school. I also wanted to know the story with the infamous blue overalls fans wear in the audience.
In the stands of the student section in Ainsworth Gym, a variety of varsity athletes can be found in blue-and-white-striped overalls, inspired by the ones you would see audience members wearing in other collegiate March Madness games, creating commotion.
I asked Annabel English and Mollie Doyle, both varsity athletes on track and field, about the club. The students who wear these overalls are in “The Senda Squad,” which is a group of varsity athletes who got in through word-of-mouth and advertising by athletics. They are assigned to recite funny skits about the muffin man or read out Nicki Minaj lyrics as if they’re a presidential speech during free throws, among other creative chants.
The point of the group is to get people excited and frenzied – a key part of that connection that Williams talked about. Any student can join, and once they attend five games they can get free Nike merch, such as t-shirts and hoodies. Tailgates and other events are hosted for those in the club, and the mission is to promote fanfare at home games.
I asked Doyle and English about the Nike connection. “They kind of used our connections with Nike and whatnot to make that more enticing for students,” Doyle said. “It’s new stuff with the bear logo and things that they haven’t released elsewhere yet.”
Like many other schools, Smith has a contract with Nike, but Doyle and English weren’t sure. “I don’t even know what our ties to Nike are, but we have an alum who’s very high up in their rankings. She came and spoke to us in the fall,” said Doyle.
Senda Squad’s blue and white overalls in the stands of the basketball game during a free throw (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Ann Miller, class of ’96, a former Smith basketball player, was recently inducted into the Smith Athletics Hall of Fame; she works for Nike as executive vice president of global sports marketing.
Some of the varsity athletes I interviewed mentioned “Name Image Likeness deals” when I asked them about the professionalization of collegiate sports, which I didn’t really know much about. Hughes and Jess Duff, associate athletic director and Title IX coordinator, explained NIL deals to me in Hughes’s office.
NIL deals are endorsements in which NCAA student-athletes can make brand partnerships for compensation. At the lower division levels, it’s mostly smaller brands for up and coming products, versus D1 NIL deals which are often made with well-known brands or companies. To be clear, pay-for-play is illegal, and NIL deals have to be reported to administration and registered with the NCAA, but an athlete’s ambassadorship and image-development is encouraged. Prior to 2021, NCAA’s policy prohibited NIL deals. Since the change, Smith has been developing its own policy for students who may be interested. Not many Smithies have expressed interest, they said, but Hughes and Duff plan to make the opportunity to participate more accessible for students in the near future.
“We would love to see athletes get involved in NIL deals. We can’t create partnerships for them, but we can do workshops that help them understand what it is to create a personal brand,” said Duff.
Nike T-shirts sold at the Smith basketball game (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Herding Kittens and Hosting Fundraisers
Caro Faust created the basketball club with his former co-president, Jordan Peterson, who has since graduated. Faust considered trying to get recruited for basketball, but ultimately decided against it. He joined rugby as a sophomore, just like I did, but came to realize he missed basketball, so he got his own club chartered.
Getting the team started and sustaining it was incredibly difficult, from scheduling playing time between the Scott Gym court and the Ainsworth court, of which varsity teams have priority over, to bridging the gaps between seasoned players and newbies. He was having a hard time with the management aspects of the club. “It was super stressful. I didn’t want to be herding kittens, I wanted to be playing basketball.”
It took some time for Faust to adjust and enjoy the community he created, but he ultimately felt proud of his club. “Taking a step back, it was not what I expected it to be, but it turned out really good. The part that makes me happiest is when people don’t think they’re going to make a shot, but then they do. Every single time someone scored, everyone stopped and cheered. So it’s totally functionally different from regular basketball.”
Like Faust said, the basketball club is functionally different from varsity basketball. And different from what he thought it was going to be, “I was hoping we were going to join conferences. I wanted it to be like the equivalent of rugby, but we didn’t have a coach.”
Smith rugby is a part of the New England Wide Collegiate Rugby Conference under the governing body known as National Collegiate Rugby. We just won the Women’s Social Seven’s Cup at the Rhode Island Beast of The East Tournament, the largest college rugby tournament in the world. Similar to the basketball club, students put in the work, both during games and administratively, to keep the club up and running.
Faust realized that he had created something successful, although not what he first envisioned. “I was initially, like, ‘we’re being too silly, guys,’ but it still warrants respect for the administrators. Look at the amount of people that are showing up saying this made their week. Smith wants us to create spaces that people want to be in, and this is a space people want to be in, so help [us] continue it,” he said.
Smith Rugby wins the 2023 New England Wide Collegiate Rugby Conference Championship (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Williams didn’t know very much about club sports, and was very surprised to hear how they function. I asked her about the basketball club, and if varsity has had any interactions. “I don’t have an understanding of club sports. I feel like we’re not introduced to any club sports. I wasn’t intimidated to talk to you guys, but I wanted to know more about club sports, if that makes sense.”
While Duff, Hughes, and Parks Smith handle varsity teams, Teresa Collins, assistant athletic director for facilities & recreation, and Tamra Bates, director of student engagement, handle the 19 club sports. Collins and Bates are responsible for dispensing funds out of the annual pool of funds for every chartered club, allocated by the Student Government Association under the Office of Student Engagement.
The total allocation for all 19 clubs, both competitive and recreational, is $113,730. That money goes toward paying hired coaches, new equipment, and tournament fees, among other needs. Chartered club sports can request up to $200 in their first semester, regardless of how successful the team performs. Club treasurers make budget requests at the beginning of every year, and Collins and Bates grant funds to each club based on need and request.
As for medical trainers, we have one, named Russell Bruce, who comes a few times a week, but he has a very busy schedule, as he also works at a local high school. Bruce is wonderful, and has helped me with my many injuries, but he’s not enough for 19 teams. Collins continues to work on getting a more sustainable situation for club sport injuries, of which there are many.
Because club sports receive funding from SGA, the college says they cannot solicit donations. Any funds must be gained by an exchange of some kind or by potential donors who specifically reach out requesting to donate. That money goes to paying additional assistant coaches, equipment, trips to tournaments, and merchandise, among other expenses.
Lunadisc’s cheer circle from the outside (Photo by Veronica Murray)
Hughes made it clear that there is no profit within varsity sports, “We’ve worked hard the last few years to really dig in on the fundraising piece. We’ve tried to move away from selling cookies and popcorn because players have much bigger and more important things to be doing with their time.”
On April 17, 2026, Smith Athletics held their annual Giving Day challenge. The 24 hour fundraiser raised $532,468, split among 10 varsity teams and one general pool called “Friends of Athletics,” based on donor’s choice. That’s over half a million dollars made purely by donation.
In my sophomore year, a few club teams including rugby and frisbee were allowed to participate in Giving Day, but it was a fiasco. Because of the way the donation is set up, it was unclear on how to address the donations. Rugby’s treasurer at the time, Maggie Hollis, now a senior, had to email back and forth for multiple semesters to get the money back, which according to Hollis was something like $3,000. Frisbee gave up trying to retrieve the funds, which according to Setty, were less than $500.
Hollis explained that athletics requested that the rugby team call donors individually to ask them to re-address the donations. “There was someone who specifically said, ‘I don’t want to donate to you again because this happened,’ and it wasn’t our fault. It made us look unprofessional,” she said.
Club teams are no longer included in Giving Day. “On Dec. 16, Jess [Duff] also said, due to a number of factors, we are not going to be allowing club sports to participate in giving day in the future,” said Hollis.
I asked Collins about what her responsibilities were in her role, and she explained how she manages scheduling and various requests, but ultimately ended with, “clubs do it all. They do everything. Varsity sports don’t do that. It’s just run differently. I’m always impressed.” Maintaining club teams is a grassroots effort, where students have to put in the work to get what they need.
What is Our “Why?”
Do I think the athletics department could be improved so that club teams have more support? Yes. Do I think the women who run the department have our best interest at heart, regardless of what teams we are on? Also yes. It was clear with every administrator I spoke to that they are working their hardest to provide for their students with what they have, and are willing to match the effort that students put in to make athletics a supportive, successful environment.
“At the end of the day, we’re wearing ‘Smith’ across our shirts. I’m not wearing ‘Mya Williams’ across my shirt. I’m representing everyone here. And if that ultimately leads to winning a national championship, everyone here gets benefits,” Williams said.
Everson also made a compelling point.
“Everybody at this college was probably the odd one out at their old high school. A lot of people are queer here. I think there’s a correlation. Who picks on the odd ones out? It’s probably the athletes. They already don’t have a good representation of us, and I think being here, they definitely don’t,” she said.
On top of the chaos of social minutiae that can be found at any college, Smith has the bigoted presidential administration holding a magnifying glass over us. The target we wear as a small liberal arts school during the rise of facism proves that the priorities of the average Smith student are clear. We amplify our peers’ identities with support, we strive to live in an accessible community, and we achieve excellence. Audacity, authenticity, and agency is what makes a Smithie. What makes this place special is the space created to advocate for change. Whether a student is in theater, rugby, acapella, basketball, radio, or frisbee, Smithies are what makes Smith.
Every Smith student has a reason for being here, a story of how they got in, and a strategized financial situation keeping them here. And all student-athletes have their “why” — their reason for playing.
We’re all searching for a community to be a part of and to be proud of, whether it be through playing sports or not. What we need is a more equitable system for funding allocation, donating, fundraising, and the club teams need a consistent medical trainer. Varsity teams’ gain is not club teams’ loss, and club teams’ gain would not be varsity teams’ loss. A win by any team at Smith is a win for Smith as a whole.
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