Racing Toward Identity

This essay traces the arc of that evolution, comparing the role sport has played in my life to the roles of civic participation, relationships, and religion. It also examines how media influences my attitudes and behaviors through the lens of Uses and Gratifications Theory (UGT), and considers how sport can reveal and challenge racial inequality in the United States. Ultimately, my relationship with sport is a story of how unexpected passions find us, and how spectatorship can shape identity, community, and purpose. 

Early Influences and Participation

My early life did not resemble the traditional childhood sports pipeline. As a homeschooled student, I never joined youth leagues, local recreation programs, or school teams. While most children my age were learning to dribble basketballs, run soccer drills, or memorize playbooks, my world did not revolve around organized sports. My family occasionally played ball games with cousins, but nothing structured enough to teach me rules, or confidence. My one, and only, attempt at soccer ended in an explosion of embarrassment when I was 12. 

My family was on a trip to see old friends from when we had lived in Mexico, when I was invited to play a game of soccer with the teens and adults. I was ecstatic. I had never been asked to play before and couldn’t wait to show them how good of a player I was. Keep in mind, I had never played soccer before. Because of my keen observation skills, I refused an explanation of the rules and jumped straight into the game. For the first half, I ran back and forth, following the ball, with no opportunities to play. Imagine my excitement when, just before we stopped for a break, the ball landed at my feet. In my mind, I could see myself kicking the ball straight into the goal and ending the half, when suddenly I looked up and the whole field was gathered around waiting for me to make my move. My teammates were watching with baited breath when one of them finally asked me for the ball. I was a little confused, but I picked the ball up with my hands and passed it to him, just like he asked. The horrified reaction was enough to convince me that traditional ball sports simply were not for me and I left the field in a cloud of shame.

Instead, the activities that shaped my identity were artistic. I played every instrument I could get my hands on and spent two years in the Illinois State University String Project through Allegro, Vivace, and Sinfonia–my first real experience with structure, teamwork, discipline, and performance. According to the Typology of Fan Motives, many children participate in sport for group affiliation or self-esteem (Billings et al., 2022), but music filled that space for me. Orchestra rehearsals, recitals, and ensemble work taught me rhythm and collaboration. When other kids put on their uniforms and watched coaches, I ironed my concert black and watched conductors. 

There were moments in childhood when physicality mattered. At my family’s farm, I wrangled cows and goats, pigs and chickens, horses and rabbits, developing strength, speed, and coordination without realizing it. With my brothers, I played a game fondly titled "Cushion Push,” which amounted to wrestling with pillows and couch cushions. At my grandma’s pool (the only place I willingly “raced”) I found a kind of joy I hadn’t felt in organized sports. But still, sport was something I did when other people wanted to play, not something that was internally motivated.

During my one year in private school, I participated in recess sports, and at sixteen, during my first months of college, I played spikeball during breaks with classmates. Even then, my motive was exclusively social rather than competitive. I excelled at puzzles, board games, Rubik’s cubes, and music–all activities that rewarded strategy and problem-solving rather than physical skill. My early experiences align with what Billings et al. (2022) describe as “low-consumption fan motives.” I was adjacent to sport, aware of it, and occasionally participating, but not invested.

As I became an adult, my spectator identity grew in fragmented ways. I found myself drawn to gymnastics, Olympic swimming, hockey, Banana Ball (not baseball), and despite the emotional baggage from when I was 12, soccer. These sports appealed to the entertainment and aesthetic motives described in the Typology. The only sport I avoid(ed) is American football–not because of the sport itself, but primarily because of how my ex-husband handled himself around it. Family and relational context play a large role in fandom (Billings et al., 2022), and for me, football became associated with tension and obsessive behavior, not joy.

And then racing appeared. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. And entirely life-changing. 

The Role of Sport Today

The sport that became my home–my family, community, identity, and future–was motorsports. I cannot pinpoint how I found Formula 1 or why I woke up one day in October of 2023 and inherently knew it was a race weekend, but I will always say that God brought me racing when I needed it most. But, the breadcrumbs were always there: I grew up five miles from Fairbury Speedway; My mom always said I slept better when I could hear the sound of the car engines every Saturday night; My brothers’ and their ‘cars era,’ which meant years of car-spotting competitions on road trips; and, my favorite breadcrumb of all: a photo of Sebastian Vettel (my all-time favorite driver) and his RB9 that I saved onto my photos app in 2015, almost a decade before I knew his name. 

Motorsports awakened nearly every motive in the Typology. I watch for entertainment and escape, but also for aesthetics, the beauty of a clean overtake, the choreography of a pitstop, the artistry of a good livery, or helmet. I feel group affiliation through the racing community, both online and at the track. I experience self-esteem and personal identity through my involvement, especially now that I dream of motorsports being part of my professional life. And unlike some fans, I do not hate drivers (or players); I cheer for good racing itself. As Billings et al. (2022) note, modern spectatorship often involves “player-focused” motives, (which I use in my social media and marketing plans frequently) I continue to simply love the race for the race itself. Obviously, I still have my favorites: I love Lando Norris more than any other driver, but I can enjoy a good race even on his bad days. 

Today, motorsport is not something I just watch. It is something I do. In 2025, I worked at six different race tracks across roughly 20 weekends, supporting more than forty race groups through flagging and communications. Every weekend reinforces the same truth: I love pure, good racing more than anything else in sport.

When comparing sport to other life domains–civic participation, friendships, religion–the differences are striking. Civic participation for me happens because of racing. The Sports Car Club of America (SCCA), the largest amateur motorsports organization in the United States, operates almost entirely through trained volunteers, and working with them has become my primary form of community service. Through flagging and communications, I am part of the team responsible for keeping events safe, organized, and competitive–work that requires responsibility, discipline and teamwork. My friendships have been strengthened by shared fandom, time at the track, and mostly adrenaline. And while religion has provided a spiritual foundation during the last few difficult years, motorsport has offered something different: belonging. The community I’ve found in SCCA has become a family, a place where I feel valued, capable, and fully myself in ways that other domains of my life had never given me before.

Another major shift in how I experience sport in adulthood has come through my relationship with my boyfriend, Carter. For most of my life, and especially throughout my previous relationships, football was something I avoided–not because of the sport itself, but because of the environment surrounding it. My ex consumed football, and other sports, with an intensity that left no room for joy, curiosity, or learning; it became something tense, territorial, and emotionally draining. I genuinely believed I would never enjoy the sport or be able to watch it without discomfort. Carter has completely changed that. He approaches sports with an ease and enthusiasm that is grounded in respect, patience, and genuine enjoyment. When I watch football with him, there is no judgment about what I do or don’t know. Instead, he explains rules, plays, and strategies with kindness, answering every silly little question or hypothetical situation and turning every game into an opportunity for me to learn. For the first time, I have experienced what it feels like to watch ball sports simply for the love of the game. Not for competition or proving knowledge, not for managing someone else’s emotions, but for the shared enjoyment of the sport itself. His presence has reshaped the “relationship” category of the Typology of Fan Motives (Billings et al., 2022), showing me how positive and supportive spectatorship can strengthen connection rather than strain it. With him, I have discovered that even a sport I once associated with stress can become something warm, exciting, and genuinely enjoyable.

In adulthood, sport (specifically racing) fills every motive in the Typology and has become the central organizing force in my life. 

Media Influence and Theoretical Lens

My attitudes, behaviors, and fan identity are also shaped through the media. UGT (Katz, Blumler, & Gurevitch, as cited in Billings et al., 2022) argues that audiences actively choose media based on psychological needs, including entertainment, social integration, learning, and identity formation. This theory perfectly describes how I engage with motorsports media. 

I watch races live for entertainment and excitement. I follow drivers and teams on social media to feel connected to the community. I consume technical videos, strategy analyses, and track guides because learning enhances my enjoyment. I engage with content that reinforces my professional identity in motorsports communication. And humor accounts, behind-the-scenes footage, videos from specific creators like @shelovesvrooms and @henryringer satisfy my desire for connection and storytelling. 

The media has also shaped how I carry myself professionally and socially. Billings et al. (2022) note that sports media help establish behavioral norms and expectations through repetition. Watching drivers maintain composure and integrity–even under immense pressure–has influenced my own communication style at racetracks. I try to mirror the professionalism, calmness, and problem-solving strategies I see in race control and pit lane environments. 

UGT explains why motorsports media became central to my daily life: it meets my emotional, social, intellectual, and identity-based needs in ways no other form of sport ever has.

My boyfriend also contributes to how I engage with sport media through the lens of UGT. Billings et al. (2022) explain that audiences often use media to strengthen interpersonal relationships, and watching sports with him has become one of the ways I experience social integration and connection. Sharing games or races together allows sport to function not just as entertainment, but as part of a supportive relational environment that makes learning enjoyable instead of intimidating.

Sport and Racial Inequality in the United States

Sport in the United States has long been a lens through which racial inequality is both revealed and challenged. Billings et al. (2022) emphasize that athletic institutions reflect broader social hierarchies rather than existing outside of them. Whether through segregated leagues, unequal opportunities, or media framing, sport has historically reinforced many of the same patterns of discrimination found in American society.

My understanding of racial inequality in sport is not only academic–it is personal. At the 2024 United States Grand Prix, I met my friend Yena, a hijabi motorsports content creator whose presence in the Formula 1 fan ecosystem has fundamentally shaped how I perceive racism and cultural bias in global sports spaces. Yena has built a significant following on Instagram and Tiktok (@yenayaps), and was recently invited to the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in December. This is an achievement that reflects both her talent and her visibility in a space where Muslim women, women of color, and hijabi women are vastly underrepresented.

Through Yena, I have witnessed prejudice in real time. She faces comments rooted in Islamophobia, misogyny, and racial bias. Sometimes subtle, other times overt. What inspires me most is the way she handles each situation: she does not dismiss or ignore harmful behavior, but instead confronts it directly, with grace and integrity. Watching her navigate these spaces has deepened my awareness of the privileges I carry and the barriers that others face simply for existing as themselves within the fan space of the sport they love. It has also made clear how far motorsports still has to go before it becomes a truly inclusive global culture.

Her experiences reflect broader racial dynamics across American sport. For example, the recent revival of the Indianapolis Clowns as a new Banana Ball team introduced me to an entirely different chapter of sports history: the Negro Leagues. Before this announcement, I had never heard of these leagues, but learning that the Indianapolis Clowns originated as a Negro League team compelled me to research the history behind them–and the extent to which segregation shaped baseball.

The Clowns were one of the most famous teams in the Negro Leagues, known not only for their talent, but for their showmanship and touring performances. They were also one of the last surviving teams before the MLB integration dismantled the league entirely. Their existence was a direct result of segregation: Black athletes were prohibited from playing in Major League Baseball, forcing them to create their own institutions and opportunities. The fact that the Clowns have been revived through an entertainment-focused league like Banana Ball, highlights both progress and loss. It pays homage to a history built on resilience, while reminding us how many Black athletes were denied equal access to resources, recognition, and fair competition.

This dual exposure, witnessing Yena’s lived experience of discrimination in motorsports and learning the historical context of the Indianapolis Clowns, has expanded my understanding of racial inequality beyond the classroom. Billings et al. (2022) discuss how media representations often reinforce stereotypes, portraying white athletes as strategic and athletes of color as “natural talents.” This framing shapes public perception and affects everything from how athletes are covered in media to how fans engage with creators like Yena.

Sport reveals racial inequality, but it can also challenge it. When fans like Yena assert their presence, when teams intentionally honor historically marginalized leagues, or when athletes use their platforms to speak about injustice–as F1 driver Lewis Hamilton has–sport becomes a site of resistance. These moments force audiences to confront uncomfortable histories and ongoing inequities that many would prefer to ignore.

Through Yena’s courage and the discovery of the Indianapolis Clowns’ legacy, I have learned that confronting racial inequality requires personal reflection and a willingness to listen to the experiences of those who continue to push for inclusion. These insights have shaped my awareness as both a spectator and an emerging professional within motorsports communication.

Conclusion

My evolution as a sports fan is a story that began outside traditional sport, grew through fragmented moments of play and observation, and eventually crystallized through motorsports into a defining part of my identity. The Typology of Fan Motives for Sport Spectatorship explains how my relationship to sport has shifted over time–from low involvement to passionate engagement across nearly every motive. Racing, more than any other sport, has provided me with belonging, community, purpose…and a future career path.

Sport plays a different role in my life than civic participation, relationships, or religion, yet all these domains intersect through motorsports. UGT explains why motorsport media fills social, emotional, and intellectual needs, and why it has become central to how I understand myself. And on a broader level, sport continues to serve as a cultural mirror, revealing inequalities and offering opportunities for change. 

Ultimately, racing did not simply enter my life. It transformed it. It gave me community, direction, and a sense of self I had never felt before. And as I move forward in motorsports communication, I know my identity as a fan and participant will continue to evolve, shaped by the sport that found me exactly when I needed it.