I used to think that being a college gymnast meant you had to be the best. You must set a strict diet, train hard without a break, and eat, sleep, and breathe gymnastics. I believed that college gymnastics meant that you were supposed to be an All-American, national champion, and everything in between. But sometimes, it means much more than that.
My name is Naimah Muhammad. I am a fifth-year senior studying English and Film Studies at Fisk University and the first HBCU gymnast to compete in history. My journey to Fisk was long, and it taught me what college sports and college gymnastics are genuinely about. Before Fisk, I attended two other schools. I graduated high school at the height of COVID-19 in August 2020 and was initially committed to the University of Bridgeport, a DII school in Connecticut; however, due to the pandemic threatening my sports career, I decided to withdraw from Bridgeport and take a gap semester to reassess my plans. During the Spring 2021 semester, I transferred to SUNY College of Brockport, a DIII school in Upstate NY, and competed on the gymnastics team for one season. I loved to perform and had a competitive edge, eventually winning a floor title and a Regional medal later in the season.
I transferred for the last time to Fisk University in the summer of 2022 with the chance to make history. I was excited, but shortly after I arrived, I felt a shift in my confidence. I was always accustomed to pressure and having to hit a routine to help the team win, but it was different here. We were thrust into the spotlight, appearing on television shows and news stories about how inspirational we were, being the first HBCU gymnastics team. All I knew from this experience was that we couldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail.
At our first meet in Las Vegas, I led off the team with the first routine from an HBCU gymnastics team ever on national TV in front of a large crowd. You would think that boosted my confidence, but it made me shrink more. As the year went on, despite all the good things, I had more falls at meets than usual, injured my ankle, and wasn’t scoring as high as I used to. I didn’t qualify for Nationals and soon fell into a mental slump that lasted into my senior year in Spring 2024. How could so many little girls root for me and watch me compete when I felt I didn’t deserve to be on this team?
I transferred for the last time to Fisk University in the summer of 2022 with the chance to make history. I was excited, but shortly after I arrived, I felt a shift in my confidence. I was always accustomed to pressure and having to hit a routine to help the team win, but it was different here. We were thrust into the spotlight, appearing on television shows and news stories about how inspirational we were, being the first HBCU gymnastics team. All I knew from this experience was that we couldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail.
At our first meet in Las Vegas, I led off the team with the first routine from an HBCU gymnastics team ever on national TV in front of a large crowd. You would think that boosted my confidence, but it made me shrink more. As the year went on, despite all the good things, I had more falls at meets than usual, injured my ankle, and wasn’t scoring as high as I used to. I didn’t qualify for Nationals and soon fell into a mental slump that lasted into my senior year in Spring 2024. How could so many little girls root for me and watch me compete when I felt I didn’t deserve to be on this team?
Gymnastics was my number one priority. While my grades were always good, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my degree. Maybe become a writer, but writing what? What else was there to life but gymnastics? I never joined any clubs at my other schools, and being an All-American was the one thing I never got in my collegiate career. The mental gymnastics affected my physical gymnastics, and I decided enough was enough. I decided it was time to prioritize my mental health. I became a student ambassador, went to campus events, and joined clubs, but the best thing I could’ve done for myself was go to therapy.
I knew my gymnastics would suffer if I caved into the idea that I wasn’t enough. Going to therapy helped me understand my why: why did I love my sport? It wasn’t about being an All-American or winning medals all the time. It used to be about dancing around the floor and gossiping by the chalk bucket with my teammates. I put on my sparkly leotard and glittery makeup to feel like Wonder Woman. It was about how happy it made me feel. Winning in your sport feels good; we all know that, but that can’t be all it’s about. You have to win within yourself: mentally, emotionally, spiritually, etc. When you can only stress about winning and forget about the love of the game, you lose immediately. I realized that it wasn’t about being perfect or becoming an All-American. It was about creating history to inspire the next generation of gymnasts, and I did that.
This is my last year competing in gymnastics, and I decided I wanted to enjoy it as much as I could. I’m proud of everything I have done and will continue to be proud of who I am becoming.
