A Female Athlete Raised Fairness and Injury Concerns. A Senator Asked: “How Competitive Are You Really?”

by Suzanne Littrell

When Fairness in Women’s Sports Is Questioned

I spend a lot of time with my husband traveling across the United States speaking to America’s youth about the six core values of the Medal of Honor: courage, commitment, sacrifice, integrity, citizenship, and patriotism. What we have found is that when young people develop strong morals and values, the rest of life tends to fall into place.

Recently, however, I watched a public exchange during a discussion about Arizona’s House Concurrent Resolution 2003 regarding women’s sports that troubled me deeply. Utah State volleyball captain Kaylie Ray stepped forward to speak about her experience competing against a biological male, and the response she received from a state senator raised serious questions about fairness, respect, and the realities of athletic competition.

Because of my background as an athlete and my life experiences in highly physical professions, I felt compelled to speak about it.

With our foundation we stay away from politics, military recruitment, and religion. But here I am speaking only for myself and not for the foundation.

My husband Gary Littrell is a Medal of Honor recipient and has been speaking about these values for many years. We met in 2019 and were married in 2024. This is the second marriage for both of us. Gary was happily married for 59 years, and I remain close with the previous husband who is the father of our children. Our families get along very well and Gary often says if more people could live this way, the world would be a better place.

Because of that philosophy, I try to stay away from political commentary. But sometimes something is said publicly that cannot go unanswered.

The Exchange That Raised Concern

Recently, during a discussion about Arizona’s House Concurrent Resolution 2003 regarding women’s sports, Arizona State Senator Catherine Miranda responded to Kaylie Ray.

Kaylie Ray Photo from Utah State Aggies

Ray spoke about the reality female athletes are facing when biological males compete in women’s sports. In her testimony she stated:

“Bodies play sports, not identities…Reality matters.Biology matters.And women matter.… Title IX was created to protect female athletes, and we cannot allow those protections to disappear.”

After Ray spoke about her experience competing against a biological male athlete, the senator responded:

“I have my sports hat on now. It’s all about a sports mentality, growing up in sports, being a tomboy. I mean, you look pretty healthy. You look very much in shape and strong.”

She continued:

“It’s a sports mentality when you’re growing up and how much competition that you’ll take on. So it’s not just a silver bullet for one community of sports players. It’s the individual person on how competitive you want to be… I would have taken on a man in a heartbeat.”

And she finished by asking:

“How competitive do you think you really are?”

Arizona State Senator Catherine Miranda Photo Wikipedia

When I heard that exchange, it did far more than strike a nerve.

I was stunned and deeply troubled. A young woman athlete came forward to describe her experience, I felt she was dismissed and talked down to. A state senator holds a position of authority and influence. With that authority comes a responsibility and treating those who speak before them with fairness.

Instead, the conversation felt one-sided. That kind of exchange does not encourage open discussion. It shuts it down.

The Reality of Elite Athletics

I was an athlete long before Title IX and after it. I understand what it was like when girls were not allowed the same opportunities in sports. I also understand what it takes to reach the highest levels of competition.

When someone speaks as if competing at the elite level is simply a matter of attitude or “being competitive enough,” it tells me they may not understand what that level of athletics truly requires.

At the NCAA Division I level, sports are not casual recreation. They are full-time commitments.

For me, that meant five hours a day dedicated to training. That was just the time on the court and in the gym. There were additional hours on the field running sprints, in the pool for jump conditioning, additional box jump training to increase our vertical jumps, and studying the opponents game strategies and sports psychology. Elite athletes dedicate their lives to reaching that level.

I am number "9" a junior, the third person in the back row.

Because of that commitment, other areas of life are affected. Studies can be impacted and sacrifices are constantly being made. When a university is paying for an athlete to attend school through scholarships, there is also a responsibility to the team and to the university itself. You are representing more than just yourself. You are representing your teammates, your coaches, and the institution that has invested in you.

That level of responsibility and sacrifice is something that cannot easily be compared to casual athletics or even most high school sports.

Experience Matters

In looking into Senator Miranda’s statements, I reviewed college rosters from the years she attended college. I was unable to find her listed on NCAA basketball rosters during that time. She has stated that she was recruited, but being recruited and actually competing at the Division-1 level are two very different things.

If she was recruited and chose not to play, that is of course her decision. But if that is the case, then the experience of competing at the elite collegiate level is something she would not have personally lived.

And without that experience, it is very difficult to fully understand the physical, mental, and competitive demands that come with NCAA Division-1 athletics.

There is simply no comparison between that level of sport and recreational play or youth athletics.

The Question of Competitiveness

But what troubled me most was the idea that a woman who does not want to compete against a biological male might somehow be “less competitive.”

Competitiveness should never be measured by a willingness to compete against men in women’s sports.

I know this personally because I grew up playing sports with boys.

Before puberty, I was often the best athlete on the field. I played hardball baseball with boys because there were no girls’ teams in my town. But when the boys began hitting puberty, everything changed. Their size, speed, and strength increased dramatically.

At the time I felt like I had failed because I stopped playing for fear of being hurt.

Today I realize I was being smart. I was protecting myself.

The biggest pitcher in our league was on my own team, which meant every week in practice I faced his pitches. They were fast and often wild. It was not just a few at-bats in a game. It was a weekly situation where serious injury was possible.

Growing Up Small

I was also small for my age. Very small. I was skinny enough that people called me “Olive Oil,” “chicken legs,” and “knobby knees.” I was even told that if I turned sideways you wouldn’t be able to see me.

By today’s standards, that would likely be called bullying. At the time, I didn’t agree with what people were calling me, and I certainly didn’t like it, but it didn’t crush me the way it might affect some kids today.

Back then we had a saying:

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”

Surf Competition Awards Photo Photo: Easy Reader

In a strange way, repeating that phrase lightened the moment. It was our way of standing up against the comment and not letting it define us.

Still, words do matter. And because of situations I’ve experienced later in life, I speak up today when I see bullying. No one deserves to be diminished simply for who they are.

So yes, I understood fear when that baseball came flying toward me at speeds far beyond what my body could safely absorb.

A Lesson From Coed Volleyball

Later I played high-level coed volleyball. My partner was a fully grown man in his twenties. The best players in the world played in those tournaments. Gary Hooper, Matt Gage, Steve Obradovich and my partner Fred Zuelich were among them.

The men played as hard as they could.

But there was an unwritten rule.

You did not spike the ball directly at the women.

If it happened accidentally, it was a big deal. I remember once when the ball became 50-50 on the net and Gary Hooper hit it straight down. It struck my thigh so hard that the outline of the Tachikara volleyball was imprinted on my leg.

The crowd immediately booed him.

He ran under the net to make sure I was okay.

There was no macho attitude. Those men understood the difference in physical power, and they respected it.

That is why today’s situation is so different.

Transgender male athletes competing in women’s sports are competing against all female opponents. They are not holding back, and they cannot hold back if they want to compete seriously.

The women on the court know this.

And many of them are afraid.

Not because they are weak.

Not because they lack competitiveness.

But because they understand the physical realities of sport.

Hormone treatments alone do not erase male skeletal structure, muscle density, or leverage advantages. Doctors and sports scientists have documented this repeatedly.

This is not hatred. It is biology.

Lessons From a Career in Risk

My life has involved risk. As a stuntwoman I have jumped off five-story buildings, been lit on fire with protective gear, fallen down a flights of stairs, been hit by a car, dragged by a car, jumped into a moving car, thrown through glass, and launched into the air by an air ram to name just a few stunts I’ve performed.

Risk and fear are not foreign concepts to me. They were part of my profession.

In stunt work you learn something very quickly: danger must be controlled. Every stunt is carefully designed so that everyone involved understands exactly what is going to happen. There are rehearsals, safety coordinators, timing, and trust. No one is allowed to improvise in a way that could put another performer at risk.

At one point I also stepped in as a stunt coordinator on the film A League of Their Own, where I was responsible for the safety of the performers during the stunt work.

Because of that experience, I understand something very clearly: when physical risk is involved, responsibility matters. You must honestly assess the differences between people, understand what could go wrong, and make decisions that protect everyone involved.

Those same principles apply in sports. The safety and fairness issues are not difficult to see, yet some people choose not to acknowledge them, and that raises questions about what is truly driving the conversation.

And that is the key point.

Even when danger is involved, fairness and control matter.

Respecting Competition

That is why the argument that women who oppose competing against biological males are somehow not competitive enough misses the mark entirely.

It has nothing to do with courage.

It has nothing to do with toughness.

I have spent a lifetime doing things most people would never attempt.

But courage does not mean ignoring reality.

In sports, the physical differences between male and female athletes are not theoretical. They are measurable. They exist in muscle mass, bone density, speed, power, and leverage. Those differences are the very reason women’s sports were created in the first place.

So when I say I would not compete against a biological male in women’s sports, it is not because I fear competition.

It is because I respect it.

True competition requires a level playing field. Without that, the contest is no longer about skill, dedication, or effort. It becomes something else entirely.

Women fought for decades to build fair opportunities in athletics.

Those opportunities deserve protection. I am more than willing to speak up and debate any one anytime.