I didn’t know was sexism was. I didn’t know that a boy of the same age could treat a girl with the type of behavior known as sexism. We were six. I was just a little girl who wanted to play baseball with the boys just like my brother and father, but I didn’t know the sport I loved would be the sport that people considered for boys only.
   

I walked over to the dugout on the spring day and gently tossed my baseball bag to the ground. The metal bat made a loud sound as it met with the concrete. I picked my glove up and started walking to the outfield. The coach called a group of players over to him.
 

 “Today we’re going to be practicing ground balls. I’m going to hit the ball to you and you’ll throw it to the person in front of you. Easy day,” Coach Dave explained.
   

My group walked over to the other side of the outfield, giving us enough space to properly practice. We created a single file line, putting myself second. The boy in front of me, a six-year-old named Peter was first in the line.  He quickly slammed his glove into the dirt, allowing the ball to ease into the opening. He threw with all his power, but it only went a couple of feet in front of him. I walked over to the same spot the boy was at and pushed my long caramel blonde hair to the side. I fumbled when I attempted to get the ball, but I accomplished the drill. I ran over to where Peter was standing to relieve him of his catching duties.
   

 I watched as this young, rough looking boy stepped forwards. I had seen him around the baseball fields before, but never conducted a conversation with him. He got in position and retrieved the ball smoothly. I put my glove up in order to catch the ball he would be throwing towards me any second, but he had a different idea. He came a few steps closer to me. I didn't understand what he was doing.
     

"Girls can't play baseball! This sport is only for boys!" He shouted.
   

He threw the ball incredibly hard and fast, at this point he was only a few feet from me making it easy for his small body to throw powerfully. I moved my head and watched as the ball flew by. Was this little boy trying to hurt me? He hated the fact that I played baseball enough to make him hurt me? Those two questions were the only things going through my head.

I gained my composure by standing up straight again. I quickly ran over to my mom, who was standing on the sidelines of the dugout. I broke down crying into her arms. I told her about the incident.
       

 "Why would someone do this to me?" I asked while sobbing.
       

“Some people just pick on others for no reason,” she tried to explain to me.
       

“I’m quitting baseball. I don’t want balls getting thrown at my head and boys making fun of me for a sport.”
     

"If you let a boy decide what you can and can’t do, then you won’t be able to live life the way you want.”
I thought about that for a long time. I looked up and saw the sun was beginning to set. I stood up and picked up my glove.
     

“Don’t let those little boys get in your head. I’ve seen you play before. You’re a good little player. Go back out there this season and show everyone that baseball is for boys and girls,” one of the mother’s said while walking towards me.

I decided that I wanted to keep doing what I loved. I walked back over to my group where Joe was, and plopped myself into the line. He glared at me, but I just looked away.
   

When I look back on this one day, I see countless life lessons. If women let men decide what they do, then women won’t be able to live their dreams in life. By me not quitting baseball and continuing for many seasons after this incident, I showed that girls can do whatever they want to.  A few years later, another boy asked me why I wasn’t playing softball. Because I was older, I understood that he was being sexist and just told him that baseball is just as much a sport for girls as it is for boys.
   

I still wonder today if he really did intend to hit me with the ball. His comments from that day until the end of season were nonstop, but I managed to block them out. I learned that you should never let others decide your fate. Whether or not he meant to hurt me, he did. His comment made me want to quit baseball. I was six. I didn’t know right from wrong, and he made me believe that what he was doing was right and I was wrong.
 

This moment made me realize who I am. I believe that I am a strong, brave, and powerful young lady who has been able to grow up knowing that a boy cannot tell me what to do. I have no doubt that I made the right decision by walking back out onto the baseball field.