Abstract
On investigating the gendered experiences of Western Canadian ‘ladies barrel racing’ rodeo competitors, the sportswomen we interviewed emphasized their unique bond with the horse as the distinguishing feature that made them ‘legitimate’ barrel racers compared to other rodeo cowgirls, and ‘feminine’ compared to cowboys. This paper further explores how the barrel racers studied focused on their rider–horse interaction to discursively separate themselves from other rodeo women and men. First, we examine how discourse informs the creation of subjects in the rider–horse relationship among ‘legitimate’ barrel racers. An expanded understanding of subjectification reveals three distinct, yet interrelated subject positions in barrel racing (the athlete, the team member and the trainer) that set them apart from other rodeo women. Second, the analysis uncovers their reproduction of normative femininity in the way they differentiated themselves from male horse trainers and rodeo competitors based on their distinctive rapport with the horse.
An offshoot of North American ranching and cow herding traditions, where cowboys and cowgirls often laboured under harsh conditions, rodeo is unlike most modern sports (Kelm, 2011). The internationally renowned Calgary Stampede, Canada’s largest rodeo, offers $2m in prize money, hosts up to 25,000 spectators a day at competitive events and attracts over one million visitors during the 10-day festival (Calgary Stampede, 2012–2017). However, many other large and smaller towns in Western Canada host similar ranch horsemanship contests. Our study focused on amateur and professional barrel racers competing in mainstream rodeos in Saskatchewan and Alberta, sanctioned by the Canadian Professional Rodeo Association (CPRA), the Canadian Cowboys Association and the Chinook Rodeo Association or the Foothills Rodeo Association. In fact, competitors with membership in a Western Canadian rodeo association can compete in single- and dual-approved competitions sanctioned by another rodeo association. All of these rodeos include mandatory events: bronc riding, bareback riding, steer wrestling, bull riding, team roping, tie down roping and ladies barrel racing.
The space for amateur and professional sportswomen within these rodeos is small considering that barrel racing is the only competitive event for women. In 2016, the 204 barrel racers who competed in 51 CPRA-sanctioned rodeos, including the Pro Rodeo Canada Series Final and the Canadian Finals Rodeo, represented about 27% of all CPRA members. While the Canadian Finals Rodeo attracts close to 9000 spectators, the Foothills Rodeo Association, which mainly hosts competitions in small Southern Alberta communities, draws from 600 to 3000 spectators per rodeo, and its 155 barrel racing members again accounted for approximately 25–30% of the total 2016 membership. The 147 barrel racers in the Canadian Cowboys Association represented the same percentage of all 2016 members who took part in the 40 sanctioned rodeos in Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba and the finals, attracting up to 25,000 spectators. Yet, despite their limited competition space, barrel racers are the most visible women competitors in Western Canadian mainstream rodeos (hereafter referred to as rodeo); they compete on the same day, in the same show, before and after, in the same arena, and in front of the same audience as cowboys. Barrel racers therefore compete in a context that is both mixed-gender and sex-segregated, and in a sport that showcases masculinity while reproducing and codifying it within Canadian Western rural culture (Kelm, 2011). Cowgirls are free to register for other rodeo events. The fact that women are funnelled into barrel racing is ‘more the result of informal social organization’ (Forsyth and Thompson, 2007: 401) related to historical representations of gender in Western rural culture and cowboy herding tradition (Lawrence, 1982), which is also consistent with the broad historical tie between masculinity and horse ownership and handling (Hedenborg, 2015; Hedenborg and White, 2012). Rodeo’s role in preserving Western heritage and the sharp line between feminine and masculine gender norms could explain why women are excluded, for all practical purposes, from the other competitive events (Forsyth and Thompson, 2007).
Our larger research project was designed to investigate the unique gendered experiences of barrel racers in a male-dominated sport in rural Western Canada. In agreement with Wedgewood (2004) and Helstein (2010) that sportswomen’s experiences are far from homogeneous, and responding to their call for more research into the varied and specific contexts that create the female athlete, our exploration concerns distinctive gender constructions among Western Canadian barrel racers. How do they transgress gender norms through their sporting practices and possibly engage in practices that emphasize femininity at the same time (see Chase, 2006; Davis-Delano et al., 2009; Engh, 2011; George, 2005; Guerandel and Mennesson, 2007; Marco et al., 2009; Sisjord and Kristiansen, 2009, among others)? We found that the barrel racers practised self-surveillance as they projected a distinct strong, hard-working, independent and supportive heterosexual femininity, featuring a devotion to their sport (and family) that established them as ‘legitimate’ competitors embedded in the Canadian Western rural culture, and that separated them from competitors they described as sexualized ‘buckle bunnies’ or ‘wannabe’ barrel racers out for quick success (Weninger and Dallaire, 2016). In doing so, they challenged the normative ideals associated with exaggerated femininity and sexual undertones that circulate in rodeo (Patton and Schedlock, 2012), while simultaneously asserting their particular brand of womanhood.
Our analysis uncovered three disciplinary practices used by barrel racers to establish their legitimacy and distinctive gender identity while setting themselves apart from other rodeo enthusiasts. First, the barrel racers displayed constrained heterosexuality when socializing at rodeos to protect their reputation as serious and chaste competitors, hence upholding Western Canadian rural conservative moral values and dissociating themselves from fellow competitors they viewed as overly sexualized. Appearance reflected a second conscious disciplinary practice in the barrel racer circle. These women wore plain rodeo attire for respectability and avoided flashy or revealing clothing on rodeo sites before and after their event to avoid obscuring due recognition of their riding talents and competitive performance. Their understated, formalized rodeo clothing also expressed respect for the sport’s Western heritage and cemented their roots in rural culture, in the same way that equestrian competitive dress bespeaks a specific collective identity and the sport’s rich British tradition (Dashper and St John, 2016). Finally, barrel racers described horse(wo)manship as the most significant disciplinary practice in ‘legitimizing’ their sport performance and their brand of femininity, compared to other rodeo cowgirls and from cowboys. These sportswomen underlined the intense and caring human–horse relationship that they believed characterized their sport and defined them as barrel racers. This unique partnership was strengthened through countless hours of devoted horse care and competition training (Weninger and Dallaire, 2016). Indeed, sportswomen maintain cooperative, not combative relationships with their rodeo horses (Arluke and Bogdan, 2014), especially since the 1957 re-entry by women into Canadian rodeo competition (Kelm, 2011) has been limited to one event – barrel racing, wherein the cowgirl partners with the horse. During competition, the rider directs her horse either to the left or right of the closest of three empty oil barrels arranged in a triangle in the rodeo arena. She continues racing in a clover-leaf pattern around all the barrels. The goal is to cross the finish line without tipping a barrel and to post the fastest time, measured in one-hundredths of a second (CPRA, n.d.).
The significance of this special relationship between rider and horse emerges in other research on equine sports as well. In their analysis of the sport pony as a new type of athlete in the Canadian equine industry, Gilbert and Gillet (2012) draw on Haraway (2007) to describe the pony’s capacity to form relationships as ‘encounter value’. They found that breeders not only focus on training the pony to perform physically, but they also understand that its rider-appeal also depends on whether its stature, temperament and character are conducive to a companionable relationship. However, Gilbert and Gillet (2012) noted that equestrian sport commercialization has bred a new type of buyer, more interested in quick success than spending the required time and effort to establish a strong horse–rider relationship. Dashper (2014) has explored the contradictory effects of this shift in elite equestrian sport, and has shown that riders continue to insist on the centrality of the horse–human affective relationship, a bond that takes time to build. Wipper (2000) explains that accomplished riders and trainers who participate in equestrian eventing want to develop and maintain this particular relationship factor with the horse, to establish the strong ‘partnership’ vital to competitive success, contingent on the effort and performance of both rider and horse. Her exploration of winning partnerships also shows that such partnerships depend on a certain quality of interaction between the human and the animal, in which the horse is considered an active participant with its own emotions and personality. Game (2001) underlines this relational dimension of riding where the rider is not the only actor, but part of ‘a situation of rider and horse simultaneously carrying and being carried by each other and something more – the spirit of riding’ (p. 10). A similar feature of the rider–horse relationship is observed in Gilbert’s (2014) study of competitive youth female riders in the Canadian Pony Club. She describes this relational quality as the interactional trust between rider and pony, a trust dependent on a human–horse physical and emotional connection, as well as a meaningful partnership that views the horse as an engaged actor.
The same attention to the nature and quality of rider–horse interactions was central in our interviews as a marker of legitimacy setting our sportswomen interviewees apart from sexualized competitors and barrel racers who failed to dedicate the necessary hours and groundwork to hone their horse(wo)manship skills and foster the strong rider–horse connection valued in the sport. It also set them apart from cowboys, who fail to cultivate the same collaborative and caring bonds that barrel racers share with their horses. In this paper, we focus on the sustained rider–horse interaction that the sportswomen considered a barrel racing requirement in describing their gendered experiences as rodeo competitors. We examine how discourse informs the creation of subjects in the rider–horse relationship among ‘legitimate’ barrel racers in Western Canada, and regulates and compartmentalizes the actions of subjects through the use of dividing practices (Foucault, 1977, 1983). Finally, we consider how these contextually specific discursive fragments constructing the Western Canada barrel racing subject interact with broader discourses about gender and sport.
The study
The principal researcher grew up in Southern Saskatchewan. Though not a barrel racer herself, she lived on a cattle ranch and had many acquaintances active in rodeo. In addition to attending rodeos years earlier as a spectator, she attended four rodeos as a participant–observer in the summer prior to recruiting competitors for this study in order to gain more familiarity with barrel racing. This benefited the research by expanding her knowledge and providing opportunities to observe what barrel racers may have considered ‘mundane, common actions . . . not worthy of extended analysis’ (Buch and Staller, 2007: 189). These observations and concepts gathered from the literature led to the development of an interview guide. The guide was continually updated as data were gathered, based on themes emerging from previous discussions as the interviews progressed. The rider–horse relationship was one of the themes that grew in prevalence throughout the research as the sportswomen spontaneously mentioned their special rapport with the horse in describing their barrel racing gendered experiences. Starting with her acquaintances and through snowball sampling, the principal researcher recruited 14 barrel racers, all with deep roots in Western Canadian rural culture. They came from working-class backgrounds and lived scattered throughout rural Southern Alberta and Saskatchewan. The importance of Western culture and rural identity remains strong in this part of Canada, where, McCormick (2001: 403) argues: If there is a ‘right wing’ in Canada, it is almost certainly found in the West, in a mixture of social conservatism, nostalgia for an economy and society organized around such institutions as the ‘family farm,’ traditional ‘family’ values, and a greater salience for religious convictions that carry over into public action.
Rodeo is an institution that celebrates the historical roots of ideas like the cowboy, ranching and an agrarian lifestyle. Today, its members support a political view in which the myth of the frontier figures prominently (Kelm, 2011). Unlike the historical association between the British equestrian/equine industry and social elites (Fletcher and Dashper, 2013), rodeo evokes the physical labour of Western Canada’s pioneers. Indeed, the barrel racers interviewed reproduced a strong and independent femininity entrenched in Western rurality and the ‘helpmate’ concept (Stoeltje, 1975), allowing them to claim right to rodeo legitimacy not only in terms of athleticism, as competitors, but also through rodeo’s link with Western pioneer history (Weninger and Dallaire, 2016). Indeed, it became quite clear that they supported gender regimes that produced credible and distinctive displays of Western rural culture and rodeo credibility. We did not initially set out to find barrel racers who would define themselves as ‘legitimate’ competitors or attempt to recruit sportswomen who would voice such consistent discursive concepts in distinguishing themselves from other cowgirls. Nevertheless, through the first author’s acquaintance with rural barrel racers connected to the ranching industry, who in turn admitted us to their particular rodeo circles, our participants perhaps unsurprisingly shared a common understanding of their particular position among competitors and emphasized a certain version of barrel racer legitimacy that promotes rodeo’s Western heritage and the significance of the barrel racer’s particular rider–horse relationship.
Pseudonyms were used to identify the research participants mentioned below. Six barrel racers lived on a farm or a ranch: Wanda (age 45), Lexi (age 18), Sarah (age 19), Janet (age 23), Samantha (age 26) and Lillian (age 28). Another four came from ranching or farming backgrounds, while one was raised on acreage and her parents owned horses. Eight took up barrel racing as children or teenagers through family involvement in rodeo as competitors or spectators, or family interest in horseback riding: Wanda, Lexi, Janet, Samantha, Charlie (age 23), Melissa (age 20), Molly (age 30) and Claire (age 35). Three began barrel racing in their adolescence: Sarah, Sherry (age 23) and Lacey (age 29), and three others after taking part in other equestrian sports as youths, such as Western pleasure or English dressage: Lillian, Kathy (age 32) and Julie (age 40). These sportswomen participated in semi-structured, qualitative, in-depth, face-to-face interviews that were transcribed and re-read to assess the need for follow-up interviews that were later conducted by phone within a month of the initial conversations.
The barrel racers interviewed competed as professionals or amateurs in a variety of rodeos. Professional participants in Canadian rodeo would have won a minimum of $1000 in a single competitive season, entitling them to purchase a CPRA pro-card. Provided they continue to pay their annual CPRA membership fees, their professional status is ongoing. Four of the women interviewed had a CPRA pro-card. However, many of the other barrel racers in our study competed in amateur rodeo associations that provided a high enough level of competition to also attract pro-card barrel racers with the lure of more potential earnings. While amateur barrel racers compete exclusively in amateur rodeos, professional riders can enter amateur and professional events. One interviewee, Lacey, explained that participating in nearby amateur association rodeos can be more lucrative. In fact, she earned more money in one competitive season than her sister who had focused on professional events and almost made it to the Canadian Finals. Therefore, even without official professional status, barrel racers can earn money and participate in high-quality events.
The rider–horse interaction in women’s barrel racing was admittedly not the intended focus of our original research project. Nevertheless, our interviews soon revealed that the sportswomen made sense of their gendered experiences to distinguish themselves from other cowgirls and from cowboys based on their dedication to their horse and horse care. This insistence on horse(wo)manship as a distinguishing characteristic of the ‘legitimate’ barrel racer, in contrast to fellow female competitors, has been outlined elsewhere (Weninger and Dallaire, 2016). In this paper, we focus on the special and defining relationship between the esteemed barrel racer and her horse and how it discursively sets her apart from other male and female rodeo competitors and from male horse trainers. Considering the significance that the sportswomen placed on their unique relationship with their horses as a distinguishing feature, our Foucauldian discourse analysis tried to understand how and what subject positions emerged after examining the discursive fragments that the barrel racers (re)produced. Interview transcripts were analysed to uncover the discourses that cowgirls adopt and/or resist in describing their gendered rider–horse relationship.
Discourse actively regulates the actions of subjects (Foucault, 1977, 1983). This study analysed sportswomen’s narratives to understand how legitimate barrel racers and their horses are disciplined into specific interrelated subject positions. It further examined the specifics of this relationship and the boundaries, or dividing practices, which preserve its uniqueness. Discourse in a Foucauldian sense refers to an interrelated web of statements ‘that cohere in some way to produce both meanings and effects in the real world’ (Carabine, 2001: 268). Discursive formations create understanding and truths that become bound up in power relations. These truths then circulate as common knowledge; however, many discourses circulate concurrently. They fluidly interact and change over time (Carabine, 2001), which is why researchers cannot ignore that meaning constituted within discourse is also contextually bound.
Statements about rider–horse relationships in barrel racing were examined to see how they implicated the subject. Foucault (1983) argued that individuals are both subject to and the subject of discourses; however, subjects do not pre-date discourse, but are constituted within it. This means that discourses define what it means to be a barrel racer as well as the subject positions involved in the barrel racer’s relationship with her horse. In fact, discourse actively regulates the actions of subjects through the use of disciplinary technologies – informal/formal rules that limit the actions of subjects by creating docile and highly disciplined bodies which are thus extremely efficient in executing the requirements of the specific subject position (Foucault, 1977). This research examined the sportswomen’s narratives to understand how legitimate barrel racers and their horses are disciplined into adopting specific interconnected subject positions. It further examines the specifics of this relationship and the boundaries, or dividing practices, which preserve its uniqueness. Our interviews revealed that legitimate Western Canadian barrel racers perceive three distinct, yet interrelated, subject positions in their rider–horse relationships: the athlete, the team member and the trainer. What emerged from this analysis was that barrel racers not only actively took on subject positions, but also attributed discursive subjectivity to their horse. To reflect on this expanded notion of discursive subjectivity we turned to various researchers (Birke and Brandt, 2009; Birke et al., 2004; Game, 2001; Haraway, 2007; Savvides, 2011) who are challenging our thinking about ‘humanness’ and ‘animalness’ by exploring the inter-relationships arising from human–animal interaction. Rodeo, like other equestrian disciplines such as horse racing, show jumping and dressage, entails particular rider–horse relationships in a specific sport and cultural context. As Wipper (2000) reminds us, ‘while the horse is central to all horse subcultures, values, norms, and practices vary enormously within them’ (p. 50). Lawrence (1982: 134) suggests that the horse in the Western ranching culture of rodeo is ‘an archetypal symbol of man’s conquering force’. Bridging the opposed features of nature and culture, the rodeo horse exemplifies a wild–tame continuum. Horses that more aptly fit within the tame end of the spectrum are viewed as the riders’ companions, while horses on the wild end are portrayed as outlaws (Lawrence, 1982). Such anthropomorphizing suggests that the horse occupies a subjective space that is both separate from and closely interconnected with the rider. Dominant discourses, including scientific production, have essentialized human and animal identities within a binary opposition (Birke et al., 2004). Haraway (2007), however, in discussing interspecies relationships, asks us to view this contact zone as a space where new identities are nurtured. Indeed, the barrel racers we interviewed described their horses as active participants in the rider–horse relationship and in associated subject positions, referring to material-discursive practices that combine to create unique human–animal interactions (Barad, 2003). ‘Animaling’ refers to the specific relationships created within these spaces of animal–human interaction (Barad, 2003; Birke et al., 2004). The concept emphasizes the co-creation of certain human–animal interactions unlike various other inter-species relationships. This particular form of rodeo animaling distinguishes the legitimate barrel racer from other cowgirls and from cowboys. It draws parallels with Foucault’s (1983) discursive strategy of dividing practices. Like animaling, dividing practices separate one subject from another, creating different subject positions. Subjects then act accordingly, taking up the subject positions produced through dividing practices, which are invested with meaning/truth value in discourse (Foucault, 1977, 1978). Accordingly, while subjects are defined within the discourse, they concurrently define what it means to be a subject by recreating the discourses through their actions, or in this case, through their rider–horse interactions.
Subject positions in the barrel racing rider–horse relationship
In a previous article (Weninger and Dallaire, 2016) we outlined how legitimate barrel racers emphasized their special attention to horse care and horsemanship as a feature that distinguished them from fellow competitors, like the ‘buckle bunnies’ and the ‘wannabes’. Here, we will further explore the characteristics of the rider–horse relationship that defines their gendered experiences in rodeo. While riders in some elite equestrian sports rely on external wealthy owners (Dashper, 2012, 2014), the amateur and professional riders in this study all owned their horses, the norm in Western Canadian barrel racing. However, they did not present themselves as ‘owners’. Rather, in discussing their gendered experiences in barrel racing, they referred to three interrelated subject positions in their special relationship with their horse that set them apart from other competitors: the athlete, the team member and the trainer.
The athlete
Since we wanted to understand the different dimensions of the barrel racers’ gendered experiences, we inquired about how they viewed themselves as athletes, animal caregivers, trainers and rodeo cowgirls. Remarkably, the initial reaction of many of the sportswomen to the question of whether they saw themselves as athletes was ‘no’. Melissa said, ‘I never really thought of myself as athlete. I just always think of my horse as athlete’. This dismissal of self as athlete is the direct result of horse and rider interaction. The barrel racer was more likely to view her horse, not herself, as the athlete. As Lexi said, ‘when you think of an athlete, we think of someone that is like a runner’. They understood the subject of ‘athlete’ as a body in motion, which in their rider–horse pair, was the horse. In addition, an athlete must be physically talented, as Kathy suggests: [If] they don’t have the physical ability to be the fastest and the quickest horse, then you might not do as well as you’d like. So it’s kind of like anyone wanting to … like I might want to play basketball, but if I’m four foot five I’m not going to make the NBA.
Gilbert and Gillet (2012) observed a similar emphasis on the horse’s athletic skills in that sport ponies in Canada and the United States are bred for performance. As an ‘athlete’, the horse’s value centred on its physical capital rather than its pedigree. Regardless of the horse’s physical talents, all barrel racers interviewed mentioned the importance of a good training routine. In sports, docile and efficient sporting bodies are created through disciplinary techniques; ‘discipline in sport requires control of athletes’ bodies through the acquisition of skill and a sophisticated body of knowledge focused on how to produce skilled athletes’ (Shogan, 1999: 18). But the interconnection between the sportswoman and horse subject positions in barrel racing is manifested through the notion that the skilled horse is the product of development/refinement in the woman’s competencies as rider and trainer. Because they viewed their horses as the ‘athletes’ and identified horse(wo)manship as a defining characteristic of the legitimate barrel racer, the women we interviewed took responsibility for training and maintaining their horse’s athleticism. Nine of the 14 women had been training their own horses in barrel racing for many years. Although the remaining five had purchased professionally trained horses in the past when they were younger or entering the sport, as they had gained experience and knowledge they had all shifted their focus to training younger horses for future competitions.
Discursively constructed as the ‘athlete’ in the rider–horse barrel racing relationship, like other high-performance bodies the horses were trained through periodized training. Lacey illustrates how, in preparation for rodeo season, barrel racers ensure their horses work daily on improving cardiovascular capacity and agility: Obviously we want to get their lung capacity up. We do a lot of long trotting. But you really have to think of their fast-twitch muscles and their muscle memory, and that kind of thing. So we’ll do sprints, and, you need to make runs sometimes lots of circles, and getting them collected
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and using their body. (Lacey)
Then, throughout the season, greater emphasis is focused on maintaining the horse’s athletic capacity and improving detail skills as explained by Sherry: So, like, one day a week I’ll do arena work with him, or even out in the field doing lots of tight circles and getting him collected and underneath himself. Then the next day I’ll go down the road and do long trotting, and then the next day I’ll sprint him. Yeah, and then the next day I’ll go back to the arena and do, like, collection, and then have a rodeo.
Another aspect of athleticism raised by the women in interviews concerned injury prevention and management, as noted in Claire’s following statement: ‘I would say my horse is the athlete, that’s the way I look at it because they’re the ones that get injured. They’re the ones that need their legs to be iced. They’re the ones that need massages’. Veteran riders explained that keeping their horses healthy meant a longer, more fruitful career.
However, it would be reductive to limit the subject position of athlete to the horse. Barrel racers can also be discursively constructed as athletes. After all, they compete in an organized sport, train to perfect their riding skills and improve their own fitness through their horse(wo)manship. Of relevance to this analysis, however, is how the riders interpret their subjective space based on available discursive fragments. The legitimate barrel racers spontaneously considered the horse as the athlete rather than both themselves and their animal partner as athletes, perhaps because of their insistence on their subjectivity as trainers, as examined below, to distinguish themselves from other cowgirls. Notwithstanding these instinctive reactions to our questions about their experience as athletes, some riders did mention their adherence to disciplinary techniques that resemble those of the production of athletes. Though they described these requirements as less rigid than those ascribed to the horse, the sportswomen did have expectations of their athletic bodies: referring to the importance of weight management and keeping generally fit in order to ride skilfully, so as not to interfere with their horse’s performance.
Drawing on Birke et al. (2004), we can see how the repeated interactions between human and non-human pairs lead barrel racers to view their horse not as mere objects, but rather as subjects engaged in the discursive formation producing the athlete. The sportswomen interviewed construct the horse as a subject precisely because it actively participates in the trainer and athlete relationship. In other words, the horse takes part in workouts, veterinary visits, etc., organized by the rider/trainer. We cannot overlook that although horses are purchased, fenced in and granted limited access to the human world, they are large, strong animals and, ultimately, they interact with humans by choice, albeit a choice driven by sociality needs: [I]n the absence of emotional support from the herd, horses look to humans. Indeed, without this motivation it would be impossible to work with horses the way we do, for no amount of force could get a horse to move forward, jump, or pull a cart. (Game, 2001: 3)
Therefore, as the riders drew on normative discourses defining athleticism to make sense of their horses as athletes, they simultaneously expanded the discourse to include their non-human counterparts, considering the horses as active in producing their subjectification. Their rejection of their own potential subjectivity as athletes makes sense when barrel racers consider their role as trainers, but it seems curious by comparison to their construction of the ‘team member’ subject position. In this team, there is not just one athlete.
The team member(s)
Within barrel racing, both horse and rider compete and win. The barrel racers spoke of the ‘team’ dimension of their relationship with the horse in a rodeo context, and their collaborative relationship (Arluke and Bogdan, 2014), evoking the rider–horse partnership described in Wipper (2000). References to the ‘team member’ subject position not only allude to the idea that both horse and rider compete together, as in other equestrian sports (Dashper, 2014; Wipper, 2000), but it also denotes an affective quality that bonds team members together through mutual respect (Dashper, 2014) or interactional trust (Gilbert, 2014). Describing this deep rider–horse emotional connection became a discursive device used by legitimate barrel racers to set themselves apart from counterparts who fell short at the intensive horse(wo)manship required to train their horses.
When the riders spoke about the moments before entering the arena to make a run, they not only mentioned preparing their horse, but also preparing themselves. A major aspect of this pre-competition preparation was mental focus. For Janet, it was about being calm, ‘Well, if your horse is uptight, you’re uptight. Your heart’s beating, it’s got to be. But if a girl can calm down, bring everything back down, a horse can feel that’. Similarly, for Sarah, ‘the biggest thing is to just stay relaxed then if you’re relaxed, most of the time your horse will be relaxed’. Claire believed that having confidence was a component of her mental game, ‘I think we play such a huge part in that having confidence. If we have the confidence, they, in turn, start having confidence’. In each case, the riders pay attention not only to their pre-game mental preparation, but also their horse’s emotional state. This illustrates the interconnectedness of the team, and reinforces Game’s (2001: 2–3) statement that ‘people who live with animals experience connectedness and cross-species communication daily’.
The word ‘team’ presupposes individual subjects who are ‘distinct beings, each with its own mind, its own emotions, its own ways’ (Wipper, 2000: 54). In her study of equine sports, Wipper (2000) found that eventing riders viewed their human–horse relationship as a partnership founded on respect, compatibility, communication, trust and confidence. Dashper (2014) similarly showed that elite equestrian athletes engaged in a close human–horse rapport, underlining the mutual trust, respect and dependency between rider and horse. The above quotes, by emphasizing the horse’s autonomy, showcase the barrel racers’ respect for their mounts. Compatibility figures prominently in discussing the team: for a successful partnership, the ‘horse and rider have to get along’ (Wipper, 2000: 54), which depends not just on the barrel racer but also on the horse’s ‘encounter value’ (Gilbert and Gillet, 2012). Claire mirrors this notion in describing the barrel racer–horse relationship: ‘There has to be a chemistry between you and your horse’. Unlike eventing, however, where Wipper (2000: 57) found that, ‘regardless of how much the partnership idea is extolled, there is no doubt as to who its senior member is. Horses should instantly and willingly obey the rider’s signals, answering to every single request’, interpretations of barrel racer–horse experiences varied among the sportswomen interviewed. For instance, Samantha alluded to a pedagogical relationship, believing that her horse taught her the fundamentals: He kind of taught me how to ride him. Like the first year I ran him I just sat there. I did. I just sat there going, ‘Oh my god, we are going so fast!’ . . . And he just took care of me the whole time. And then when I started riding him better, he started challenging me to make him run.
Like Samantha, Charlie’s horse was also skilled. However, as a veteran rider, she was not open to subsuming the role of pupil, and according to her story, neither was her horse. This situation resulted in a power struggle. Accustomed to riding horses requiring more assistance through the clover leaf pattern, Charlie would ‘check’ her horse. ‘Checking’ is something the rider does to prepare for turning a barrel: while sitting on the horse, she puts pressure on the inside reign, encouraging the horse to slow down. Because Charlie’s horse was talented, he did not need this assistance. Every time she would ‘check’ him, they would tip a barrel. In her account, she first had to learn to trust and respect her horse’s knowledge and skill before they achieved success. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Molly believed she took the leader’s role and her horse followed, ‘I was a fairly aggressive rider and she kind of needed to be pushed but would go and turn and would work hard every time so I think we fit well together’. Finally, some interviewees underscored their lengthy experience, which enabled them to adapt to the style of any horse. The varied discursive constructions used to interpret their experiences with horses say a great deal about the importance of the horse and rider connection. Wipper (2000: 56) suggested that finding such connection ‘is a two way process; each has to like the other’. The barrel racers interviewed in this study explained the connection in two ways. The first type of discursive fragments related to affect, which was apparent at the first meeting with the horse, similar to first impressions in human interactions as described by Kathy: ‘When I saw her, I just loved her. (…) She was so pretty and nice and I rode her and I liked her so I bought her’. Kathy’s use of the word ‘nice’ referred to the horse’s temperament and impeccable skill: ‘What makes her nice or awesome is, she’s fast and she turns barrels really good, and you can win on her. Plus, I just like her, she has a nice personality’.
Gilbert and Gillet (2012), in examining the modern preference for the sport pony in equestrian pursuits, argue that riders today value both the physicality and sociality of a horse based on a specific equine habitus. They further contend that the emphasis on good temperament may be extending beyond the sport pony breeding industry to include all equine sports. The discursive formations (re)produced by the women interviewed support this point; finding the connection is as important as talent. Janet spoke at length about a talented horse she recently acquired that did not connect with her and her frustration over it. She also described clearly the immense confidence she feels in a horse that ‘fits’: It just works, either you’re not nervous on them. You can drop your reign and walk anywhere . . . He’s going to take care of you. That’s my horse then. If I could put that much faith in him, that he’s going to carry me across anything, and we can run into a barrel pattern and I could just go, there’s no turning back there. But if you’re constantly trying to, you’re nervous on him; it’s not a fit. You’ve got to be comfortable. You’ve got to be relaxed. You’ve got to want to be able to just like ride off in a field, and take off, and go somewhere for hours, and be okay with it.
Kathy’s quote illustrates the first theme, affinity for the horse, emerging from the discursive fragments (re)produced by the women to describe creating the connection. The second theme was to invest immense amounts of time and effort. Savvides (2011) argues that the romanticization of woman–horse relationships throughout history has undermined the hard work involved in horse(wo)manship. The experiences of the barrel racers in this study reinforce her claim that working with horses, ‘requires both emotional responses to animals and experience-based knowledge of relating to other species’ (Savvides, 2011: 60). Gaining I think, you know, for a horse, the more you can kind of find that connection, and just even pampering them and I think a lot of times it’s stuff that you offer them that makes them really start to trust you. Just putting in the extra, the extra bit to make them feel like … I’m graining them every day, washing them down, just, I think that really starts to build a relationship, just the more you’re around them and stuff. (Sarah)
Sarah’s comments call attention to the trust dimension of a strong partnership in eventing (Wipper, 2000). Another important aspect of the connection is communication: When you’ve rode a horse for so long, like, the horse I compete on now, his name is Nick, and, I barely, I don’t even, it would look like I’m doing nothing, but I would maybe shift my weight a little bit or wiggle my finger and he would just, like, respond and do something. (Lacey)
To reach this level of intimate communication and interconnectedness takes many hours inside and outside of the arena. A lot of this time in the arena is spent on constant repetition and practise of skills to develop competitive proficiency in the rider and the horse. In barrel racing, there are no coaches. The rider therefore becomes teammate and coach during competitions, and trainer outside competitions.
The trainer
Sherry states that ‘all barrel racers are trainers’. This subjective position is prevalent among legitimate barrel racers and distinguishes them from fellow competitors considered to take short cuts because they focus on the social aspect of rodeos or on achieving hasty results. Indeed, the barrel racers interviewed underlined the caring and coaching responsibility of their role as trainer along with the related hard physical labour as a crucial dimension of the barrel racer/horse relationship. Julie for instance emphasized dedication to her animal partner: ‘if you do have that good athlete in a horse, you have to be smart enough to take care of them’. Ever devoted, the trainer is subject to disciplinary techniques requiring a commitment of time, body and priority as described by Claire: So when I made the CCA [Canadian Cowboys Association] finals, it’s on the horse I bought young, I trained myself, I hauled down the road, I’ve trained other horses, I’ve tried to make it to the CCA finals before. I had so many people randomly like, ‘you deserve it, you deserve it, you deserve it.’ And maybe if you went and bought a $50,000 horse, you wouldn’t get that. (…) They wouldn’t be like, ‘oh you deserve it, you worked so hard to get there.’ They’d be like, ‘oh they bought a good horse and she made the CCA finals.’
To succeed as a barrel horse trainer, a sportswoman must be willing to commit her time and her body by making her horses her priority. Experienced barrel racers train their own horses to establish themselves as legitimate competitors, in contrast to other barrel racers. They sometimes train horses for their own competitions, but also to sell for income to sportswomen entering the sport or competitors who lack the time or knowledge to train their own horses and who prefer to purchase an expensive trained or ‘finished’ barrel horse.
Femininity and a caring barrel racer–horse relationship
In the current rodeo horse Canadian Western market, both men and women train barrel racing horses for profit. However, some of the sportswomen we interviewed said they would not purchase horses trained by men as they are believed to ‘man-handle’ horses. Discourse simultaneously creates and negates subjects. It describes the conditions of subjectification. At the same time, it also defines who/what does not fit into the discursive category. The discursive technique at play here is dividing practices (Foucault, 1977). Such practices are ‘constructed via the use of particular discourses to justify social and, at times, spatial divisions between various categories of humans’ (Pringle and Markula, 2005: 477). Molly described how men are discursively construed as inadequate barrel horse trainers: They tend to be more, kind of …I mean this is probably a generalization but, I think a bit more heavy handed and kind of man handling a horse around a barrel rather than training it and just guiding it around the barrel.
The heavy-handedness mentioned here relates to physical strength. Hence, the most obvious condition of possibility in defining training differences between men and women results from normative gender ideals representing men as tough and women as gentle. Such gendered notions also emerge in British and Swedish equestrian culture as women in the racing industry are seen as possessing a ‘natural love’ of horses and an innate feminine nurturing character beneficial to working with horses (Butler, 2013b; Hedenborg, 2015), just as female horse owners and riders in the rural horse world are considered to spoil their horses by caring too much (Dashper, 2016). In their study of female equestrian polo players in Canada, Gilbert and Gillet (2013) also noticed the same gendered dimension to the rider–horse relationship, with the female riders reporting a more intimate bond with the horse than the men interviewed, who saw the horse as a valued partner but without highlighting an emotional connection. In our study, the women definitely expressed a strong attachment to their horses, which distinguished them as legitimate barrel racers compared to the sexualized cowgirl or ‘wannabe’, but also from cowboys, because of this feminine nurturing quality. Wanda, one of the veteran trainers, argued that men and women ‘all have the same tools’ when it comes to horse training, but identified gentleness as more successful: I don’t think strength trains a horse, okay. To me, gentler is more… If strength is the factor that’s going to make you successful, that’s not a long term horse, in my opinion, because if our training skills are all the same… How you teach a horse, yes, there’s many, many different ways but the basics are all the same. So, if you spent the time with the horse to get them broke [trained to carry a rider] properly, it’s not a strength game. It’s in teaching the horses. It’s an understanding that there is a communication, like if I put pressure with my right leg against your right side, I want you to move away from that, but I shouldn’t have to jab a spur into you and make you jump to do it. It’s like there’s pressure there and you want the horse to yield to that pressure.
Wanda believes that anyone could train a successful horse with the right tool: gentleness. The gentleness in question is a descriptor of femininity and is therefore ascribed to women, whereas strength is an important factor in achieving dominant masculinity among men (Krane, 2001). Although Wanda did not claim that men or women are better trainers, her explanation of successful training referred to characteristics attributed to normative femininity. Thus, by propagating the stereotype that men ‘man-handle’ horses or are ‘too strict’ as riders (Hedenborg, 2015), the barrel racers interviewed reproduced normative gender identities that define women as better trainers. That women are discursively constructed as the top expert trainers in barrel racing sets this sport apart from equestrian disciplines where men are still viewed as the ultimate specialists despite the feminization of the sport (Birke and Brandt, 2009; Dashper, 2016).
However this brings us back to Savvides’ (2011) encouragement to look beyond historical discourses that position women as somehow innately connected to horses. We therefore considered other conditions of possibility for the construction of women as the ‘best’ barrel horse trainers. Their specific horse-trainer relationship within the confines of rodeo is another condition of possibility confirming barrel racers’ expertise over male trainers. Men are not allowed to compete in barrel racing in Western Canadian rodeos. They compete at jackpots (locally organized barrel-racing-only events), futurities (a showcase of horses for sale under the age of five), and derbies (for selling horses under the age of seven). Male trainers ride barrel horses strictly to sell them for profit, whereas female barrel-trainer-racers ride to win, and win consistently. To win consistently, as the interviewed barrel racers argue, demands building a connection. Building connection happens over time by creating intimate communication, and encouraging trust, respect and confidence. To train a horse with gentleness, the trainer must take time, communicate and nurture a trusting, respectful relationship that encourages confidence with his/her horse. Because the goal of a barrel horse trainer who also races (or used to race) differs from the goal of a barrel horse trainer who does not race, the expectations of the relationship varies as well. In other words, the animaling changes (Birke et al., 2004). This tension between the male trainer’s treatment of the horse as a commodity and the barrel racer’s (read, female trainer) focus on the quality of the rider–horse relationship evokes contradictions that Dashper (2014) has outlined in elite equestrian sport, opposing the business dimension of the sport to the strong rider–horse bonds required for successful performance. In our study, however, the distinction is not between wealthy horse owners and the athletes who ride horses; rather, the distinction relates to the specific context of Western Canadian rodeos where barrel racers own and train horses to compete with them or to sell them to sportswomen entering the sport. Men, on the other hand, are discursively constructed as profit-driven trainers who lack the same love of horses and knowledge of the sport.
Consequently, the discourses that circulate to inscribe what it means to be a barrel-trainer-racer, as opposed to a barrel-trainer-nonracer, discipline each subject differently based on the various restrictions and permissions of their specific context. A barrel-trainer-racer competes with her horse during rodeo competitions. The goal is longevity and multiple successes over time. The barrel-trainer-nonracer competes with his horse at futurities and derbies. He wants to showcase the horses for potential buyers. The barrel-trainer-nonracer is unconcerned about creating a bond because the horses will soon be sold.
Context is therefore an important factor in understanding discursive technologies (Carabine, 2001) and how barrel racers construct their femininity in opposition to rodeo trainers and cowboys. Western Canada’s barrel racers compete in a particular sex-integrated environment where they interact with male competitors but do not compete with or against them in the same events, as opposed to other equestrian sports. For instance, in Olympic equestrianism, men and women compete in a fully sex-integrated environment, but men still dominate the elite levels in disproportionate numbers (Dashper, 2012), although gender discourses do not emerge as prevalent in the identity construction of Olympic and Paralympic male and female riders (De Haan et al., 2015). In Western Canada rodeos, women are not the only contestants who compete with their horses. Men also compete alongside their horses in timed events such as tie down roping, 2 team roping 3 and steer wrestling 4 (Arluke and Bogdan, 2014; Kelm, 2011; Lawrence, 1982). This means that these competitors are responsible for the care of their horses while travelling to and from rodeos each weekend, and throughout the week. The same cannot be said of roughstock 5 competitors who compete in saddle bronc, 6 bareback riding 7 and/or bull riding. Roughstock competitors do not travel with the animals they compete against. In this case, animal care is provided by the stock contractors who supply the bulls and horses for the rodeo.
Consequently, dividing practices are also evident in relation to horse care. Barrel racers believed they took better care of their horses than other timed-event competitors because they are, as Sherry said, ‘more conscientious of all the little details’. Julie made the point, ‘My vet always says, it’s barrel racers who actually take proper care of their horses’. Hence, our interviews show that, similar to discipline-specific identities emerging among Olympic and Paralympic equestrian athletes (De Haan et al., 2015), barrel racers evoke a discourse specific to their event in making sense of their gendered experiences. Two conditions of possibility explain this divide, the first being gendered constructions. Wanda is unequivocal when she lists the reason barrel racers take more care, ‘I find it, men are more, “when the job’s done, we’re done.” Um, women are more particular and spend more time, and meticulous and maybe because women are that way more than men are’. Wanda drew from normative gender discourses that inscribe women, because of their sex, with innate gender traits that produce emphasized femininity (Butler, 1990; Caudwell, 2003). Kathy drew on similar discourses of motherhood, ‘we are a little higher maintenance but it’s maybe a woman thing, right. Because we take, no different than taking care of your kids or taking care of anything in life. Like women just are caretakers’. The term ‘higher maintenance’ refers to a rodeo label used to describe barrel racers along with the term ‘crazy’. As Lexi explained, ‘yeah that’s kind of a stereotype like you ask the guys and they are just like, “all barrel racers are crazy because they are very particular.”’ The barrel racers acknowledged that they were particular about different things, including horse feeding schedules and supplements, and tasks related to their care while on the road, as described earlier with regard to pampering their horses. Barrel racers are also notoriously picky about the shape of the arena grounds, sometimes to the consternation of rodeo organizers, to ensure the horse’s safety. Barrel racers are not alone in being stigmatized as ‘crazy’. Barrel horses that become excited or act up before a race suffer the same perception. This relates to the specific animaling between barrel racers and their horses: male timed-event competitors confronted with excited horses before a run are depicted differently. Samantha explains, ‘I’ll hear “this horse is really hot in the box, but works really good” or something. I’m not real sure why the crazy stereotype is just for barrel horses’. The use of the term ‘crazy’ to describe the barrel racers’ actions is rooted in gendered, biomedical discourse (Ussher, 1992). Throughout history, women who are too feminine or who transgress gender norms have been categorized as ‘mad’. Ussher (1992: 11) argues that ‘madness acts as a signifier which positions women as ill, as outside, as pathological, as somehow second rate – the second sex’. The ‘crazy barrel racer’ stereotype works to trivialize barrel racers’ efforts as insignificant because, according to the women interviewed, when male timed-event competitors treat their horses with identical attentive care, or experience similar unexpected scenarios, they are not labelled in the same way; there is no such thing as a ‘crazy calf roper’.
The ‘crazy barrel racer’ discourse includes barrel racers concerned by seemingly minute details, such as ground conditions (too slippery, too worked in, too hard, etc.). The second condition of possibility that helps explain why barrel racers are considered extremely meticulous relates to the sport’s regulations. Barrel racing is timed in one-hundredths of a second, whereas male timed events are measured in one-tenths of a second. Charlie offers clear insight into the matter: The barrel racers take care of their horse the best I would say and it’s because they have to really, it’s a timed event. It’s between one and 100 of the second so it’s going to show up on your time, whereas those guys can get away with it.
When creating teams, barrel racers have a proven tendency to place importance on the horse–rider connection to ensure competitive performance. Dividing practices differentiate the animaling/subjectification of the barrel racing team from other timed event teams. In barrel racing, riders rarely share their horses because creating ‘chemistry’ takes effort and time. The situation is different for male timed events; competitors sometimes share skilfully trained horses. Once again, the specific circumstances of the different events produce differing phenomena. Therefore, when barrel racers become the subject of and subject to the team discourse, they are simultaneously subjectified as ‘crazy barrel racers’ because of the required commitment to their horses. The ‘crazy barrel racer’ discourse separates female barrel racers from other male timed-event competitors. Two conditions of possibility emerge to rationalize the division: normative gendered discourse and sports regulations. Barrel racing and men’s timed events are subject to different constraints such as space (set up of the arena), time (fractions of a second to which the event is timed) and movement (how the body is expected to perform within the rules) that entail different requirements for success.
Concluding thoughts
Women in equine sports, just as other sporting women, often face the challenge of embodying a variety of subjectivities at once: their participation in sport requires that they transgress the normative sex–gender paradigm (Butler and Charles, 2012; Butler, 2013a, 2013b; Dashper, 2016; George, 2005; Guerandel and Mennesson, 2007; Sisjord and Kristiansen, 2009). Intersecting with such gender constructions, the rider–horse relationship in barrel racing is complex and nuanced. The three discrete, emergent subject positions for the barrel racer and her horse are deeply interconnected and draw on qualities discursively constructed as both feminine and masculine. The shared rider–horse success results from an intimate interconnectedness that legitimate barrel racers evoke to distance themselves from other female competitors and from cowboys. It also differentiated them from other short-cut taking, barrel racing competitors who buy trained horses rather than devote adequate time and effort to their horse’s care and training to achieve the valued rider–horse bond. It also sets them apart from cowboys who compete in other rodeo events presumed to have a short-term, instrumental rapport with the horse, or male trainers who see horses as mere commodities. While generalizations arising from this study could easily be used to explain other rider–horse relationships, the effort would be inappropriate given that the interactions examined here are heavily context-dependent. Within rodeo alone, the human–horse relationships described here are specific to gender, subject position and event. Barrel racers are subject to a variety of discourses, and animaling/subjectification varies as they move through their contextual space and transition from non-athlete to team member to trainer.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.