Hi. I’m Steph Copley. I’m a small-town Iowa girl, except I’m also not. I grew up in Carroll but left Carroll for Iowa State University in Ames and then left Ames for Drake University Law School in Des Moines. I’ve remained in the Des Moines suburbs since.
During my journey from small town to suburbia, I transformed from a girl with a heart full of good intentions but a head full of unrecognized naivety to a fiercely outspoken woman with her hair on fire about the unfair, unjust, and inequitable state of the world.
My transformation occurred over the course of several life markers, including abandoning my dream of becoming a sports journalist for the old boys’ club of the legal profession, becoming a mother of two daughters in a #metoo world, being duped by a now-strongly conversative church that once presented as inclusive for all, and watching the popularity of women’s sports explode despite decades of underfunding and undervaluation.
But the pivotal moment came during the pandemic, when the transience of life came sharply into focus. That’s when I decided it was time for me to start saying all the damn things.
For the past several years, I’ve done so primarily in two places: my podcast, the Title IX Podcast, which focuses on women’s sports and the Iowa State Cyclones, and Twitter, where I’ve built a modest platform for my takes on women’s sports, Iowa State sports, women’s rights, motherhood, LGBTQ+ rights and, believe it or not, just being kind.
With this column comes another vehicle or platform to say all the things, and I intend to make the most of it. My goal for this column is to translate my Twitter persona into long-form commentaries and discussions—a near impossibility with a 280-character limit. I am excited for the challenge and opportunity.
As for the column’s name, go look at a sign for a women’s restroom or fitting room. My youngest daughter, who isn’t much of a dress wearer at her ripe old age of five, once asked me why females on those signs are symbolized wearing dresses when that’s not what most females wear. I didn’t have an answer for her at first. But then I figured out out the secret: it was always a cape. It Was Never a Dress.
Whether you’re new to this secret or you’ve been in on it for awhile now, I look forward to the conversations to come. Thank you for reading—and stay tuned for more.
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