AS A VISUAL person with a sight impairment, my eye health has been a lifelong priority. When I was around 5 years old and learned how to read, it became apparent that my vision tests were not in the range of normal. My left eye could distinguish letters and numbers clearly, but its counterpart did not match up. The sight in my right eye has always been blurry and obscured by a blind spot in my upper field of view. It took some trial and error with eye doctors in my hometown before I was referred to pediatric ophthalmologists at the IU School of Medicine. Throughout elementary school, I got to play hooky one day a year to come to Indy and have my pupils dilated for an annual round of intensive examination. The (almost) fun part usually came later in the day with trips to the Children’s Museum, the zoo, or downtown department stores following my appointments. I say “almost” because I spent most of those jaunts wearing ill-fitting sunglasses and trying to avoid bright lights.

Testing revealed the source of my vision problems but offered no solutions or cures. In short, I had a structural anomaly in the back of my eye that could not be repaired. And now, after decades of my brain adjusting to and rebalancing my lopsided sight, trying to fix it would likely do more harm than good.

Over the years, I’ve visited a long roster of eye specialists to assess and maintain my quality of vision. One of my favorites, Dr. Robert Yee of IU, regularly took honors in our Top Doctors list before he retired 15 years ago. Since then, I’ve continued to consult our listings to find care not only for my eyes, but also for knee injuries, dermatology screenings, and food allergies, among other health concerns. I hope you, the reader, find this issue equally useful as a year-round resource to help you locate providers to treat whatever ails you.

The post Vision Statement appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

ASK ANY publisher, podcaster, or producer, and they’ll tell you the same thing: We’re in a golden era for true crime, with award-winning actors, directors, and journalists eager to mine every community’s darkest moments. But many of the incidents detailed in glossy documentaries and slick podcasts were first exposed by local reporters on the crime beat, often via bite-sized items penned on the fly. Those journalists are responsible for the grains of sand that high-profile, star-studded true crime pearls are formed around. Until recently, eastside resident Ryan Martin was one of them.

Martin was a reporter with The Indianapolis Star for around seven years, where his work ranged from brief, breaking news items to a Pulitzer Prize–winning group investigation into how law enforcement agencies use—and often misuse—trained dogs. That latter style of crime reporting can be the most professionally satisfying, Martin admits. But it’s also expensive for news companies to produce and is rarely profitable. “There were all these things that would happen on the police beat that I would always want more time with,” Martin says. “That’s not the nature of the beat, really.”

Instead, daily newspapers and broadcast TV rely on short and immediate reports for their bread and butter. These are the stories you see shared on Nextdoor or Facebook with amateur commentary, speculation, and infighting threaded beneath. Though those stories are often superficial, Martin says they still serve an important function. “If you’re invested in a neighborhood, you really want to know what’s happening there,” Martin says. “People have a right to know about threats to their own livelihood in their own neighborhoods.”

Ideally, those breaking news items can improve society by creating a better-informed citizenry. “If there’s a bunch of police on your street, you want to know why they were there,” Martin says. “Otherwise, people will fill the blanks in with things that may be even worse.”

But for a long time, daily crime coverage might have twisted how we see the world. As long as news organizations have existed, they’ve traded in sensational headlines and fearmongering to attract readers. “As we’ve learned over time, it can be very damaging if you cover crime in a certain way,” Martin says. “It can stereotype people. It can tokenize people. It can create misperceptions about entire neighborhoods.”

“There was a time you’d just go and pull the court record, then you’d find something egregious to play up, slap a mug shot on it, write a headline that is tantalizing, and then call it a day,” Martin says.

“It’s embarrassing to think about the lack of care, the lack of empathy, the lack of understanding of how everybody involved in those stories ended up in that situation,” he says of the professional expectations that he (as well as most other crime writers) worked under.

Things are improving, however. Many outlets have repositioned their crime reporting since the social justice uprising of 2020, increasing efforts to center those who experienced the crime (as opposed to the perpetrators), cutting use of mug shots, and relying less on a single narrative provided by law-enforcement.

Last year, Martin left the Star for a role as deputy managing editor at Mirror Indy, a community-based newsroom. The outlet, which can be found at mirrorindy.org, made a conscious decision against covering the day-to-day crime on which Martin built his career.

“We don’t want to replicate what other newsrooms are doing. We want to add to the local journalism that’s being produced,” Martin says. “We did a lot of research, interviews, and surveys and heard time and time again that there’s plenty of sports and crime news in Indy. So when we got ready to launch, we decided not to do either. Readers have ample opportunity to find that somewhere else.”

The post The Blotter appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

WAY BACK when I could still count my age in single digits, the best place to dance and listen to music was in the newly paneled, remodeled basement at my parents’ house. As my sister and I spun records on the turntable (or sometimes inserted tapes into an 8-track player), the Bee Gees suggested we should be dancing, and KISS commanded us to rock ’n’ roll all night and party every day. Despite our best attempts, school night bedtimes prevented us from fully living out the rock star lifestyle.

As I grew into my teen years, it became totally uncool (mortifying, really) to continue the basement dance parties at home. And so began my journey into following live music. While I was in high school, I thought it was a big deal to travel from Kokomo to Indy to catch bands at venues like the Arlington and Murat theaters. After I graduated from IU and settled into my first apartment in Broad Ripple, I reveled in the convenience of walking to shows at The Vogue and The Patio. In the years since, my list of favorite local music venues expanded to include the Melody Inn, Hi-Fi, Radio Radio, and White Rabbit Cabaret—all of which made it into this month’s cover feature.

These days, I don’t make it out to concerts nearly as often as I used to, but I’m tempted to buy tickets when I see the following event details: doors at 6, show at 7. (Turns out, those school night bedtimes apply in middle age, too.) Last summer, I hosted a house concert, which meant I didn’t even have to leave the comfort of my living room to enjoy a live set by my favorite performer with an intimate crew of 25 other people. Although I now play music via streaming services on a Bluetooth device, I find myself reliving those childhood dance parties of old in my new-to-me wood-paneled family room. It all comes back around eventually.

The post Editor’s Note: Full Circle appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

ABOUT HALF of Newfields’ 52-acre garden belongs to Oldfields, a National Historic Landmark estate with winding paths, peaceful nooks, and enchanting testaments to simpler times. An example of the latter is the bridge just beyond Tanner Orchard. Indiana had one of the earliest and most extensive interurban systems, or intercity electric railways, in the United States. Well before WWI, Indianapolis was connected to every other city in the state, except Evansville. Prior to electric lines, Hoosiers had to contend with steam trains, which operated much less frequently and traveled to fewer places.

Interurbans ran 10 to 12 trains per day between cities—and made all local stops, including country road crossings. (The roads Stop 10 and Stop 11 in southern Marion County hearken to this bygone era.) A round-trip fare was 30 cents. Folks commuted between downtown Indianapolis and the city’s sprouting suburbs, including Woodstock, where Oldfields was. It is presumed the estate’s staff were riders.

The Interurban Bridge spans the old rail line, long given back to nature and easily mistaken for a dried-up creek bed. If you stand on the bridge, face the canal, and look to your right, you can still spot the original stone platform the employees used. The combined forces of the rise of the automobile and the 1929 stock market crash were the end of the line, which ran its last train in 1930. This bridge is believed to be one of the final remnants of Indiana’s interurban system.

The post Back Story: Interurban Bridge appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

Illustrated by Kimberly Morris

ESTABLISHED IN 2011, the Choice Scholarship Program allows parents to use state funds to opt out of the public school system and send their kids to a participating parochial or nonreligious private school. As another academic year dawns, here’s a quick review.

INDIANA’S VOUCHER PLAN IS GROWING BRISKLY. Enrollment in the Choice Scholarship Program ballooned in 2023–24 to 70,095 students, a 31-percent increase over the previous school year and the largest year-over-year jump ever. The money the state handed out for vouchers also increased massively, reaching $439 million in tuition grants to parochial or other private schools. That’s a 40-percent increase over the previous year.

VOUCHERS AREN’T THE ONLY FINANCIAL AID ON OFFER. Parents can also avail themselves of education savings accounts and tax-credit scholarships. The Indiana Education Scholarship Account Program, which went into effect in July 2024, allows students with disabilities (and their siblings) to use dedicated scholarship money for approved educational programs, therapies, and other education-related expenses. Also, a School Scholarship Tax Credit is available to those donating to scholarshipgranting organizations.

SIMILAR PROGRAMS HAVE TAKEN HOLD IN OTHER STATES TOO. According to EducationWeek, as of June 2024, 29 states plus the District of Columbia offer some form of financial assistance to parents to facilitate school choice. The first was established in Milwaukee in 1990.

THE GROUP OF HOOSIER STUDENTS WHO QUALIFY NOW INCLUDES … PRETTY MUCH ALL OF THEM. When voucher programs initially gained traction around the country, they were often presented as a way to create more educational options for low-income families stuck with whatever public school their kids were assigned to. This was also the argument originally presented in Indiana. But in 2023, the Indiana General Assembly repealed most student qualification requirements (including previous enrollment in a public school) and allowed even higher-income families to get vouchers. For the 2024–25 school year, the salary cap for a family of four rose to $230,880. In other words, it’s now possible to have private school tuition underwritten with public funds, even for children who already attend a private school and whose family’s income is well above Indiana’s household median of $66,800.

THE “GIVING DISADVANTAGED FAMILIES CHOICES” MOTIVE FOR VOUCHERS HAS BECOME HARDER TO DEFEND. The Indiana Department of Education describes the typical Hoosier voucher student as a white, elementary school–age girl from a four- or five-person household with an income of almost $100,000. White students make up 64 percent of voucher users, up about 2.5 percent from the 2022–23 school year. The number of Black students with vouchers dropped half a percent over the same time span to 8.9 percent, while the number of Hispanic voucher-using students declined from 19 percent to 17.3 percent.

THE NUMBER OF PRIVATE SCHOOLS THAT ACCEPT VOUCHERS IS ALSO INCREASING. The Indianapolis-based pro-voucher group EdChoice reports that during the 2023–24 school year, 357 private schools participated in the program statewide. That’s a near-doubling of available learning facilities since the program was instituted in 2011. The two private schools receiving the most students and funds from the voucher program, both of which happen to be in Indianapolis, are Heritage Christian School (883 students and $5,697,076) and Roncalli High School (854 students and $5,651,614). Fourteen schools joined the program in 2023–24, the biggest expansion of any year since the program’s inception. Critics worry because private schools don’t have to meet the same reporting or transparency standards as public schools. Democratic state lawmakers tried to prevent voucher funds from going to private schools that discriminate against the LGBTQ+ community on religious grounds but were unable to overcome the state’s Republican supermajority.

VOUCHERS TYPICALLY DON’T COVER PRIVATE SCHOOL EXPENSES IN THEIR ENTIRETY. The calculation of a particular student’s voucher is based on family income. During the 2023–24 school year, the average award amount was $6,264, while the average price of private school tuition and fees was $7,749.

THE NUMBER OF STUDENTS USING VOUCHERS IS STILL FAIRLY LOW, BUT THEIR RANKS ARE SLOWLY GROWING. According to the Indiana Department of Education, only about 6 percent of all Indiana students use vouchers. Almost 87 percent of Indiana’s K-12 population attended public schools in the 2023–24 academic year, roughly half a percentage point less than the 2022–23 year. That percentage is expected to shrink again when 2024–25 numbers are in.

CONTROVERSY SWIRLS AROUND THE PROGRAM. The state still maintains that as many Indiana families as possible should be able to avail themselves of choices in education. Opponents point out that every voucher handed to a parent is essentially money out of the pocket of the public school system they rejected. Also, the latest state numbers indicate that use of the program is growing most rapidly in segments of Hoosier society that arguably need it the least. During the 2023–24 school year, almost 8,000 voucher students hailed from households earning between $150,000 to $200,000 annually. The number of students from households taking in more than $200,000 rose almost tenfold, from 354 in 2022–23 to 3,700 in 2023–24. The number of children from those two brackets accounted for more than half of the program’s total growth of 16,720 students in 2023–24. During that same timeframe, the number of voucher families making less than $100,000 grew by only 14 percent.

The post Speed Read: Spoiled For Choice appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

TODAY, THE RIVIERA CLUB, or Rivi as it’s often called, is a beloved summer retreat for Indy’s north siders, granting its members a country club–like experience where several quiet neighborhoods converge. The club boasts an Olympic-sized pool, an elegant restaurant, fitness facilities, and even pickleball courts. The Riviera Club’s enticing amenities prompt local residents to send membership applications year-round. Anyone can join Rivi’s ranks, assuming they are able to pay the membership fee. “Rivi welcomes everyone … We embrace diversity,” says current club president Barb Fasbinder. “Our foundation has partnered with Indianapolis Public Schools, Big Brothers Big Sisters of Central Indiana, Fay Biccard Glick Neighborhood Center, and others to bring our learn-to-swim, water safety, and wellness programming to the members of our community with the highest need.” However, this welcoming attitude was not always the club standard. Fifty years ago, The Riviera Club was sued over its discriminatory membership and guest policies.

When people conjure up images of racial segregation in the United States, they think in black and white. Not only the Black and white of different races, but the black-and-white photos and grainy video footage taken during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s. But in reality, racial segregation was viciously protected far past the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Such was the case in Indianapolis, exemplified in Bates v. Riviera Club, Inc., the 1980 lawsuit that ended the decades-long policy of racial discrimination at the swim club.

The tension between public accommodations and private clubs became the crux of Bates v. Riviera Club, Inc. The Civil Rights Act specified that only “public accommodations” were subject to its anti-segregation measures. This meant that “private clubs,” like The Riviera Club, had a legal loophole to limit their membership for any reason.

Nestled along the banks of the White River, The Riviera Club quickly became a popular recreation destination after opening on January 12, 1933. With its Olympic-sized pool and well-trained swimming coaches, the club founded by James Makin drew in crowds of both casual and competitive swimmers. Despite the low cost of membership bolstering its rolls, The Riviera Club was still inaccessible to many residents of the Indianapolis community. Like many other country clubs of the era, Rivi’s leadership was not at all subtle about who they wanted to join and who they wanted to keep out. A sign on the club’s property read “No Blacks, no Jews” as late as the 1950s.

Recognizing that change would not come from within the club, in 1971, a group of concerned citizens associated with the Indianapolis Urban League formed The Riviera Club Task Force, investigating legal ways to end Rivi’s segregation policy. Legal consultations revealed that among the limited options available, the most expensive and highest-risk way forward would be to file a lawsuit under the 1964 Civil Rights Act. So the task force started work on its other options, leaving the lawsuit as a last resort.

As efforts to desegregate the membership were underway, The Riviera Club doubled down on its policy of exclusion. In 1972, the organization instituted a new rule mandating that all new applicants must appear for an in-person interview. The impetus for this policy was a white member submitting an application for their newly adopted non-white child; the club promptly denied the application and refused to renew the parents’ membership. This move not only reinforced the policy of excluding Black applicants; it also effectively forbade interracial families from using the club’s facilities.

Members of the task force struggled and failed to address Rivi’s discriminatory policies for several years before they were forced to take more aggressive measures. In October of 1974, a white man, the Rev. Robert Bates, who was both a Riviera Club and task force member, brought his Black colleague, Michael Woodard, to the club for a friendly game of tennis. The staff deployed its standard tactic whenever a white member brought a guest of color: The employee manning the front desk sent the guest away after setting out a sign reading, “Sorry, we’re at capacity,” irrespective of how many people were, in fact, there.

By the end of the year, Bates and Woodard filed a lawsuit against The Riviera Club for illegal discrimination under the 1964 Civil Rights Act. As a result, Lawrence Reuben, a Jewish attorney who himself was not accepted at the club, was hired as the plaintiffs’ lawyer. Reuben then brought his colleague, Edward DeLaney, onto the legal team. Together, they took the legal question central to the case against Rivi forward: Was the club actually private?

Despite filing the suit in 1974, the case languished in legal limbo for years without being heard and was eventually passed over by four federal judges who recused themselves for various reasons. This delay turned out to have tragic consequences.

On Memorial Day, 1979, a trio of Immaculate Heart of Mary students decided a swim was the perfect antidote to the day’s oppressive heat. Two of the boys were Rivi members and tried to bring their Black friend, Dwight Eugene Jones, along as a guest, not realizing the consequences of this decision. Unsurprisingly, when the front desk staff saw Dwight, they immediately turned him away. And so, the group turned to the next best option: the White River, which runs along The Riviera Club’s property. The boys began swimming near the river’s edge, clinging to a log that anchored them to the riverbank. The log dislodged and floated into the center of the river, taking the boys with it. A desperate battle against the current ensued as each boy struggled back to the safety of the water’s edge. It was then that Dwight noticed his favorite hat floating downstream. He left the shore to retrieve his hat and was quickly pulled underwater by the current. Despite his friends’ efforts to save him, Dwight Jones drowned at age 15.

Enraged by this preventable tragedy, the movement to change The Riviera Club’s racist membership policy gained a renewed sense of urgency as the court case loomed. If one child drowned after being denied access to lifeguard attended pools, it could happen again.

Finally, on October 6, 1980, Bates v. Riviera Club, Inc. began its first day in court. The plaintiffs’ lawyers revealed that The Riviera Club accepted over 95 percent of all membership applications, resulting in roughly 10,000 members. Reuben and DeLaney asserted that this, paired with the low cost of membership, meant the organization was not truly operating as a private club. As a public accommodation, they argued, The Riviera Club could not maintain its segregation policy.

One of the defense’s primary arguments was that Black applicants’ intent was malicious and that they wanted to make a political statement by integrating the club, rather than truly wishing to avail themselves of The Riviera Club’s facilities. But this argument failed to hold up against the testimony of roughly a dozen witnesses who recounted the racism on full display at Rivi. The most striking testimony came from Maj. Gil Holmes, who came to court dressed in his Army attire, his chest gleaming with medals awarded for his service in Vietnam. Holmes left a powerful impression on Judge Gene Brooks, demonstrating that the club’s management was so concerned with maintaining an all-white member base that even a decorated war hero was considered unworthy of club membership because he was Black.

After the plaintiffs had called their witnesses, the judge summoned all the lawyers forward. In an unorthodox move, he read a prepared statement. Though Judge Brooks had yet to make any legal decision, he warned the club’s lawyer that based on the evidence provided by Reuben and DeLaney, the club would lose big time should the proceedings continue.

In the end, it wasn’t the years of petitions, sermons, pickets, or even a child’s death that changed the hearts of The Riviera Club’s management. It was Judge Brooks’ stern words that forced their hands.

Terms for a settlement that satisfied both parties were quickly drawn up. Among the immediate changes was the ousting of several members of the club’s membership committee and board of directors. Many people who were previously denied membership joined the club, and some, like Holmes, filled the newly open spots on its various boards. In exchange, Rivi was allowed to keep its status as a private club.

“Learning from past racial and cultural inequalities is the only way to move forward,” insists Jimm Moody, current club general manager. “It’s because of this that Rivi members elected a more diverse board this past February, bringing on Bryan Bradford and retaining Barb Fasbinder and Kat Moynihan Gray, each longtime female members and volunteers who continue to serve Rivi.”

Bates v. Riviera Club, Inc. is a testament to the power of community. No single person can be credited with dismantling the unjust membership policy. The collective efforts of The Riviera Club Task Force, those who picketed, the witnesses who testified in court, the lawyers who demanded justice, and many other supportive community members who refused to allow discrimination to thrive in their neighborhood bear that honor. Although the hard-won victories of Bates v. Riviera Club, Inc. couldn’t erase the damage done by decades of antisemitism and racism, they paved the way for the more just future that The Riviera Club embodies today.

Editor’s note: Lawrence Reuben was the author’s father.

The post Diving Into Equality appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

McGinley’s Golden Ace Inn
2533 E. Washington St.
317-632-0696

When Irish immigrants John and Ann McGinley opened the Golden Ace in 1934, they installed the same stove that grandson Jim McGinley uses to prepare the bar’s cheeseburgers today. Fried “in cast iron skillets older than any of us,” the burgers are “nothing fancy, just delicious,” McGinley says.

They also serve to soak up the effects of the Golden Ace’s signature shot, a take on the Irish Flag that trades Jameson for the Grand Marnier you typically see at the top of the drink. Its other layers of crème de menthe and Baileys Irish cream easily evoke the Irish colors, but “you have to use your imagination a bit to see the orange,” McGinley concedes of the twist. “But what’s more Irish than Irish whiskey?

The post After 90 Years, The Golden Ace Inn Is Still A Family Affair appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

I took knowing how to swim for granted.

I was “taught” how to swim by my grandfather, who chucked me into Grand Lake St. Marys off the bow of his pontoon boat The Groucher when I was just a wee lad. He did throw me in the general direction of my mother, but I still had to paddle to get to her and thus learned to keep my head above water.

Following that introduction, the formal lessons I received at the town’s municipal pool came around age 5, and all I can really remember about them is my mom dropping me off at 8:30 a.m. and then being forced to jump into a freezing swimming pool. The water was so cold. So cold.

But to my family, knowing how to swim was a necessity. We lived on a lake and owned a sailboat—a 21-foot Lightning. My father, a radioman second class who served on the USS Benner in the South Pacific during World War II, liked to sail. A lot. He loved to be on the water. He said it relaxed him, even if there was no wind. So nearly every summer evening after he returned home from work, we went sailing.

And every weekend, we went out on a pontoon boat my grandfathers crafted together using eight old, 55-gallon oil drums. One grandfather was a woodworker and the other a welder by profession, so one welded the drums and supporting metal frame together while the other designed and crafted the deck, roof, and storage cabinet in the middle. Then they put a fence up around the edge to keep us kids from falling into the lake. So my cousins and I had to learn at a very early age how to keep ourselves afloat and how to swim to safety.

Swimming continued to play a big part in my life. I completed the mile swim to earn my merit badge in swimming at Camp Lakota Boy Scout Summer Camp in my early teens, participating every year thereafter just to see if I could still do it. It was at Camp Lakota that I learned how to float in a pool with ease. Later in life, I lived along the Gulf of Mexico, going out past the breakers where I could enjoy the freedom of open water swimming.

Covering the events leading up to the U.S. Olympic Swimming Trials in Indianapolis made me think about my younger days in the water. I’ve always known the “how to’s” of swimming, so I never realized there are so many people of all ages who do not know how to swim at all.

I never even thought about it until I heard that swimming is often touted as the only sport that saves lives. Drowning is the No. 1 cause of death for children ages 1–4 years, and children under 1 year old are more likely to drown at home. Of children younger than 5, 87 percent of drowning fatalities occur in home pools or hot tubs. Bathtubs are the second leading location.

That is why Eli Lilly and Company introduced the Swim in Safety program alongside the 2024 swimming trials. The legacy program is teaching water safety to as many Hoosiers 5 and older as possible over 2023 and 2024, with a goal to train at least 25,000 individuals in 2023 and 2024 each.

What does water safe mean? It means learning and practicing progressive self-rescue and swimming skills that help reduce the risk of drowning, helping individuals to become more confident in and around water.

“The Swim Safety Legacy program presented by Eli Lilly is a statewide initiative that has already reached over 30,000 Hoosiers in 2023 and ’24 so far. Our goal is 50,000 by the end of 2024. This will be a lasting legacy,” Indiana Sports Corp chief of staff and strategy Sarah Myer states.

Shana Ferguson, chief commercial officer of USA Swimming, adds, “Part of this legacy leave-behind is legislation to mandate every second grader in Indianapolis has access to swim lessons.”

Over 54 percent of Americans either can’t swim or don’t have all the basic swimming skills, according to a recent Red Cross survey. Only 28 percent of Hispanic people and 37 percent of Black people have taken swimming lessons, according to the CDC.

“This event is going to save lives,” says Scott Davison, president and CEO of OneAmerica Financial. “Swim Safety will reach 50,000 under served citizens. This will put a dent in the history of exclusion in this country.”

We all have read the stories of people, young and old, who fall into a river, get knocked off a boat into turbulent waters, or who look away from their little ones for just a split second and are heartbroken. According to the WHO, drowning is the third leading cause of unintentional death worldwide, accounting for 7 percent of all injury-related deaths. There are an estimated 236,000 drowning deaths every year globally, so this is not just a problem in this country or state. This initiative will help address drowning deaths and build on a skill that families can continue passing on to their little ones, like mine did for me.

These trials are already a historic event. The meet, the venue, and every step Indy has taken to deliver a first-class experience for the 1,000 swimmers and approximately 250,000 attending fans are epic. But the Swim in Safety program is the real gold medal winner of this week’s competition.

The post Naysayer: The Real Gold Medal Winner Of The Olympic Trials Isn’t Even Competing appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

Photographer Tony Valainis went downtown to photograph the 2024 Indianapolis Pride Parade, capturing a glimpse of the annual celebration of all things LGBTQ in Indianapolis. 

The post Photos From Indianapolis Pride Parade 2024 appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.

“EVERYONE CARES ABOUT WOMEN’S SPORTS” is imprinted across the shirt worn by an Indiana Fever fan displayed on the big screen. I can’t help but smile, not just at the slogan, but at the fact that an elementary-aged boy is proudly wearing the mantra, surrounded by thousands of enthusiastic fans in Gainbridge Fieldhouse.

The game I attended May 28, when the Fever took on the Los Angeles Sparks, was my first Fever game of the season. But it was not my first time seeing the Fever or the phenom Caitlin Clark play in person.

I was at Tamika Catchings’ final regular season game on September 18, 2016, when I was 11. The Fever legend, who led the team to its lone WNBA championship in 2012 and broke countless team and league records, capped off her 16 seasons in Indiana in front of a sold-out crowd.

Fast-forward seven years to the sold-out game this past January 30 at Assembly Hall, when Indiana University hosted the University of Iowa. I waited outside for the closest seats possible and watched the Hoosiers defeat the Hawkeyes, led by Clark, in one of the best atmospheres I’ve experienced.

I’ve grown up witnessing sellouts for women’s basketball.

When I learned the Fever had snagged the first pick of the 2024 WNBA draft, and Caitlin Clark was more than likely soon to join my home team’s roster, I envisioned not only my state coming together to celebrate her and the other rising stars of collegiate basketball transitioning to the WNBA, but also the rest of the country.

After all, all the sellouts I’ve experienced means there’s a fanbase, and that fanbase is only growing—so this year was bound to be the year it truly exploded, right?

Yes and no. It exploded, but not always for the right reasons.

It seems like for every instance a great shot or funny player moment gains traction, there’s also a remark that goes viral from people who, up until now, have been outsiders to the sport commenting on a player or an aspect of the game unrelated to skill or gameplay.

The ensuing commotion surrounding the comments made by these figures, especially the most prevalent ones, is deafening at times. Whether it’s using a player’s race as ammunition to tear them or fans down or creating sexist narratives about their gameplay, the WNBA continues to attract onlookers, in particular men, who pick apart the league while sidelining the hard work and the athletic ability.

Whether these words are said with ill intent or because the people saying them don’t realize their knowledge of the issues they’re discussing is lacking, the constant commentary pulls the attention away from the effort the athletes are putting in to grow their sport.

While these statements make headlines—and some believe there’s no such thing as bad press—in a league that is still establishing itself, the barrage of thoughtless quips is harmful.

I was naive to think it would take one rookie class, even if it’s led by Clark, to fully open viewers’ eyes to all there is to value about a sport I have such an appreciation for. To make a difference and refocus commenters’ attention on the game instead of on manufacturing drama, it will take more than just the players continuing to play at their best and the fans to continue supporting them, but it will also take the individuals who are drawing attention away from the talent on the court to educate themselves and treat the athletes and the game with respect.

I am fortunate to have grown up watching women’s basketball sellout when sellouts were considered a privilege, even a feat.

But the boy I saw on the big screen has the opportunity to grow up with sellouts as the norm—and the increased footprint that comes with that. And that should be motivation enough for change.

The post WNBA Faces An Uphill Climb For Appropriate Attention appeared first on Indianapolis Monthly.