What are you most likely to buy at a sporting goods store? My answer—archery equipment!
I never got involved in organized school sports. For girls back in the day, that basically meant cheerleading. I never attended a football game even though our Linden High School team, the Tigers, was wildly popular. Instead, I retired to the town library after school to complete my homework before dinner.
One exception—in sixth grade, when the school system sponsored an intramural “Olympics” competition and my gym teacher put me on the standing broad jump team. I remember the day of the meet and how they measured the jump at the heel mark in the sand. I didn’t place but remember the feeling of flying over the sand and landing without falling backwards (a sure disqualification). I had done my best at this feat, a show of athleticism that surprised me.
I met my ninth grade boyfriend, one year older, at a “Y” dance the summer before. We hiked on trails in the Watchung Reservation, the low hills of north central Jersey. The 2,000 acre area was more than enough to explore in all seasons.
I’m not sure how we developed our interest in archery, as hunting or target shooting would not have been allowed there. We each bought a bow and arrows and found somewhere to practice. I loved my 25lb fiberglass reverse curve Bear bow, state of the art at the time and still a classic, even though advanced compound designs are more prevalent now.
As I got stronger and more accurate with practice, my arrows easily crowded the bullseye, a sporting accomplishment that expanded my confidence to a potential beyond academics.
In my sophomore year at college (1964), I answered a classified ad seeking counselors for an overnight summer camp in Connecticut. At the interview in a New York City office, I mentioned to the owner that I was an archer. He made me an offer on the spot to develop a program for a stipend of $200 and free room and board. He didn’t ask for credentials—did I belong to a club? Had I won any contests? Did I take a course in safety procedures? Good thing for me, because all of those answers would have been No!
There were no mishaps on the archery range. The equipment was not great quality but the program was a hit (no pun intended). Even so, I wasn’t rehired the next year—the pampered preteen twin granddaughters of the owner didn’t like me. I made them line up to wait their turn and follow the rules like everyone else. They didn’t get a scratch or shoot at anyone, thanks to me.
After that first, and last, camping experience, life moved on to more serious times—college graduation, relocation to Boston, law school, courtship and marriage, finding a permanent home on the North Shore. During family and career-building years, the bow and arrows remained unused. Five years ago, I decided to empty my basement and sold them at a yard sale.
Like riding a bicycle, I have muscle memory of the proper sideward stance and the stretch of the bowstring as I pulled it back with my right arm.
🏹 🎯 🏹 🎯 🏹
The magic of the legacy behind the sport drew me in and informed my interest since my childhood. At eight going on nine, I grew my brown hair long enough for braids. Sometimes I’d fall asleep in my parents’ bed and they would lead me to my room when they came upstairs. One night, not quite asleep under the covers, I felt my dad lifting me up to take me across the hall to my room. I stayed half asleep in his arms when I heard him whisper tenderly, “Pocahontas.”
Loveliest word ever, as I drifted off to dreamland.
Besides eight year old me, who was Pocahontas? Was she a warrior with a bow and arrow as I had always imagined? I researched Wikipedia to find out.
Pocahontas, originally Princess Matoaka and known as Amonute, was born circa 1596, daughter of Chief Powhatan, in the tidewater region of Virginia. She was captured and held for ransom by the Colonists in 1613, improved her English, and was baptized under the name Rebecca. She married a tobacco planter Thomas Rolfe in 1614, at age seventeen, and gave birth to a son, Thomas.
The family traveled to London in 1616 where she was presented to society as an example of a “civilized savage,” becoming a combination of celebrity and curiosity. The Rolfes returned to their Virginia plantation, but she died in England of unknown causes at age 20 or 21 and was buried in a church graveyard. Her memory is honored by a life-sized statue in Gravesend, Kent, an ocean away from her native land and culture.
Her childhood nickname, Pocahontas, meant “little wanton,” sometimes interpreted as “playful one.” Supposedly, she regularly visited the settlement at Jamestown and played with the little boys, a “tomboy” herself.
Her story has been romanticized over the years but historical research doesn’t support most claims, including the romance with John Smith, with whom she is famously linked. I learned about that as the truth in grade school. John Smith was captured by her tribe in 1607 but he did not mention Pocahontas in his account of the incident.
When writing later to the Queen of Denmark, wife of the English king James, he referenced a capture, threat of death, and intervention by Pocahontas, but the story was most likely dramatized to impress the Queen, enhance his reputation, and pave the way for introducing the Indian princess to the royal court in 1616. Today, we call this “spin” but it’s not new.
Pocahontas was commemorated in 1907, the first Native American to be recognized on a postage stamp, depicting a very odd likeness with a straw tophat and queenly dress. Finally, in 2015, the Pamunkey tribe, descendants of the Powhatan, became the first federally recognized tribe in the state of Virginia.
There is no evidence that she ever used a bow and arrow. She is known as a princess, not a warrior. My childhood impressions of her were mistaken but this makes her short life no less interesting. Apparently, I was really searching for Artemis, a venerated Ancient Greek deity. Her symbols included a bow and arrow, a quiver and hunting knives; the deer and cypress were sacred to her. The goddess Diana is her Roman equivalent.
I recently found out about a nearby sportsman’s club that rents out archery equipment. They offer target practice and then excursions through a wooded course. Just writing this, my excitement builds; I am eager to pick up the sport again this spring and access the seventeen year old still in me with a reserve of undiminished strength and power.
Inspired by the mythology of my female predecessors in adventure—and my own history—I already feel the sense of the aim that will fire my arrow straight to the target.
Were you capable of cleaving apples with your arrows?
Not Telling 🍎
Another part of you I never heard anything about. I think we didn’t see much of each other in our teenage years. I’m not quite sure why, but I was up in Boston for the school year in my 9th and 10th grade thru part of 11th.
Makes me feel I don’t really know you.
A lot was going on with me in those mid-teen years when you were in Boston and I was still stuck in New Jersey. We are both lucky that we escaped, but I spent four years of college there and one year working in Newark at the VA until it was my turn to head north to Boston!
Ms barrie i love archery pew pew pew pew!!so fun! I stink at it, but the arm stretch is great!!! LOVE!!
Thanks Rosa for reading, and glad to know there are others that share my interest in this sport that has been around for thousands of years!
I’m impressed! Archery was one of the activities they offered when I attended day camp, and I was terrible at it!
Maybe I should’ve gotten a job at your camp!
Love this post–it reminded me of “dates” when I was in high school that were at the local archery range. It was a sport I was almost good at and the instant gratification was wonderful. I so enjoy your writing, your voice, and I look forward to hearing about you meeting your seventeen-year-old self on the archery range. Thank you so much!
Thank you Gail for your comment, and for your own recollections of your bow and arrow dates! Did Cupid ever hit?
Adventurous Barrie! Have a wonderful time re-engaging in this wonderful sport. You did very well and obviously enjoyed it. My reference to archery is purely from the Disney movie Robin Hood, the long legged archer displaying his better than average skills with: ‘the perfect bull’s eye!’. Apart from that, I remember my attempts as a child making my own make-shift bow and arrows to compete with the boys I was constantly outnumbered (and outperformed) by. -Enjoy my friend. Sounds like fun! Warmest regards.
Magdeld, so nice to hear from you. Thank you for sharing your own memories to round out the topic.
Bravo Barrie! I also liked archery in sleep away camp at age 12! Did pretty well, but also bruised my arm a bit and had to wear a protector to prevent more rope burns. Also competed against another camp. Outcome must have been satisfactory because I remember receiving a ribbon 😊
Very cool Janice 🥇!
You’ve created another interesting story in the tapestry of your childhood.Let me know when you are going to another archery range. I’m not experienced beyond makeshift home made bows I would love to join you.
Yes, let’s do it. I’d love to try it out again, Miss Robin Hood!
I too liked archery in my pre-teen years.
Athena went to an archery class every Friday for 2 or 3 years in Middleton when she was in elementary or middle school…we might still have her compound bow!
So, when do you start?
Lisa, I was thinking of you this morning, and now your comment has popped up! I’m thinking of May to start. My college roommate who lives in Chestnut Hill is interested too. So this has a good chance of happening ☺️
Barrie, I never would have guessed. Yet another layer to the legend. But I can sooo see it. Clad in fringed buckskin, a single feather behind your head pointing north, fastened by a simple leather headband. Moccasins so quiet and light of foot that twigs don’t bend or break under their weight. They don’t even notice. You prefer the light of the moon to the bright of day. That story of your Dad carrying sleepy “Pocahontas” to her room. Hit me right here. Bullseye! Nigh night injun girl.
Thank you Frank for your lovely comment about my archery story, and the little Pocahontas emerging. And I compliment you for your own vivid writer’s imagination.