It is the year 2009. A young Summer Mosley pays close attention to the movements of her instructor, determined to embody the same grace and beauty in her own dance. She is quiet, but underneath her inconspicuous presentation is a relentless competitor. Her opponent is none other than the woman in the mirror – and in her pursuit of perfection, she will not be bested by her. She is in the zone.
A decade later, the same woman enters the same zone in a different context. At 5’10, Mosley stands tall inside of the thrower’s circle, donning her signature double-puff hairstyle. It is her final weight throw attempt at the Cougar Classic, and the junior has no intentions of leaving Spokane, Washington, with anything short of gold. She takes a deep breath and begins her cadence. One, two, three spins she takes, each more powerful than the last. At the climax of her final turn, Mosley releases the weight, letting out a fierce cry as she does so.
The weighted ball flies though the air, seemingly for an eternity, before finally crashing into the pit like a meteor from the sky. Mosley’s toss is marked at 19.43 meters (63’9”).
A winning throw. A personal best. A school record.
Long before Mosley inked her name into Trojan history books, however, she was just a girl hesitant to become a thrower. When her high school track coach approached her with the idea in 2017, Mosley was resistant. Throwing was for “big girls,” and the high school sophomore did not wish to be categorized as such.
“I associated throwing with being a bigger girl,” says Mosley, “I fought it so hard.”
After trying her hand at hurdling and jumping, however, it became increasingly clear to the Florida native that throwing could be the platform that elevated her to her aspirations. From a young age, Mosley was driven to succeed – so much so that she pursued a certification as nurse’s assistant while still in high school. Her goals transcended even the medical space, however; Mosley wanted to be the first in her family to go to college.
Track & field, as it turned out, offered a path toward a free education.
“Coming to college was really important to me because I really wanted a degree, to make myself and my family proud,” says Mosley.
College, particularly at a school like USC, however, was very different from what Mosley was accustomed to coming from Miami. When she arrived in Los Angeles, she was one of two Black women on the throwing team. During competition, she was and is a Black speck in a flood of white. Her every move, from her hairstyle to the unorthodox manner in which she spun, felt like it was under scrutiny – in a sense, she was the black sheep.
“You don’t really see a lot of Black girls [throwing],” says Mosley, “There’s a low representation for African American throwers.”
In the midst of this adversity, however, Mosley has found a way to shine.
“People are going to talk about you regardless – my responsibility is to give them something good to talk about,” she said.
The hammer throw and the discus, Mosley’s specialties, are events that demand a great deal of rhythm and cadence. To throw the hammer, one must follow a strict pattern: one toe turn, followed by three heel turns, then release. To throw the discus, one’s footwork must almost resemble that of a ballet dancer, pirouetting with both grace and power. Both throws require several contingencies: Is your orbit consistent? Are your feet aligned with your body? Are your hands at the correct point? All of these variables and more are on a thrower’s mind as she enters her routine.
Once her process begins, however, Mosley allows herself to be unburdened with the details. She lets go, trusting the work that has brought her to this point. In this moment, she is strong, beautiful and free.
“When I’m throwing, I feel calm,” Mosley said. “I feel relaxed. I have full control of myself.”
This is an experience that Mosley shares with role models such as Michelle Carter and Raven Saunders, two trailblazers for Black women in the throwing space. Emancipated from the shackles of societal norms, Carter, Saunders, Mosley and other Black women throwers utilize competitions to forge space to embody their truest selves.
Transcended beyond cultural hegemonies, they are simultaneously power and grace, beauty and strength. It is a liberating experience for the most globally marginalized group of people, one that Mosley hopes others coming in her wake are encouraged to pursue.
“People are interested in [throwing] because more [Black women] are doing it now,” said Mosley. “We can bring more Black and brown girls that look like me into the sport.”
Thus is the challenge and mission of the former ballet dancer: to take the same grace, the same elegance, the same poise that one would normally associate with those outfitted with pink tutus and leotards, and channel it toward what many mistakenly perceive as a brutish pursuit. In doing so, Mosley is helping to set a new standard, one that circumvents stereotypes and expands the definition of beauty beyond the standards of hegemonic desirability.
For Summer Mosley, there is beauty in strength.