Hole Yeah: Joy & Golf

Written By Joy Meshulam

Joy Meshulam (center) stands next to her friends Katie Kee (left) and Sam Fidler (right). (Photo courtesy of Joy Meshulam)

Joy Meshulam is a golfer, tennis player, Sabrina Carpenter fan, great friend, and might I add… single! How can that even be? Even though she’s quite funny, the path of a comedian is not what she plans on pursuing, rather, as a ‘30 at Dartmouth College she’ll be studying evolutionary biology and art history—a degree that isn’t niche at all and makes her super employable!

I picked up golf because I hated running.

Seriously.

It was the transition between middle and high school when I quit most of my hobbies—theatre because I couldn’t sing, dance, or remember my lines; drums because of the pandemic; and riding because Dolly the Quarter Horse was going blind, deaf, had arthritis, and was losing her teeth so, she literally got sent to live on a farm upstate. And since my parents weren’t (rightfully) going to support my dreams of being a couch potato, I was told that I “needed to do something.”

So, that’s how my golf career began.

It was a sport where I believed I could be solidly stagnant since there wasn’t any sprinting, jogging, or even walking if I got in a cart, which I often did. Because obviously if there’s a socially acceptable excuse to zip a go-kart around a field, I’m taking it without question. But somewhere along the ride—metaphorically and literally as I drifted across fairways—golf soon became more than just a hobby that I was doing for the purpose of soaking up sun rays and getting my cardiovascular system (slightly) going: it became, despite how cliché it sounds, a passion.

For me, whacking golf balls was cathartic. (Big word. I Googled it.)

Joy Meshulam executes a perfect bunker shot on the course. (Photo courtesy of Joy Meshulam)

So, I tried out for the high school team my freshman year. Then, once I fell in love with the sport, I remained on the team throughout my sophomore, junior, and senior years. And while I’d like to say my story was a fairy tale experience—that I never faced discrimination, that I found my prince charming, and that I finally discovered how to communicate with the magical animals that were my best friends who glamorized me throughout every cut-scene of life—sadly it didn’t occur like that. Each season I consistently faced people who doubted me.

A math teacher who misgendered me on purpose since I was playing on the co-ed varsity golf team in the fall—a.k.a. the “Boys and Joy.” Guess she struggled with two things: simple addition and my basic pronouns (*cough* she / her *cough*).

Spectators who coddled and verbally cooed at me—which was confusing, because I know I’m adorable, but not “cries of happiness after I make a tap-in putt” adorable—before they realized that I was [CENSORED] good at the game.

Last but never least, how could I forget the male opponents who I comforted as they sobbed, heartbroken that they were “being beaten by a girl.” And yes, you read that right, opponents with an “s.”

Yet, despite fundamentalist and dare-I-say, sexist opposition to challenging the gender status quo, I also found people who cheered me on.

Two phenomenal coaches who have not only improved my game, but made me a better, more thoughtful, and kind human being.

Teammates who elected me to become the first female captain for the golf team in my high school’s history. When I found out, as any golfer knows, I had to act professional on the course—chill and composed. But once I was alone in my car, I did in fact throw a one-person rave.

Friends who cheered as I moved from the fourth to the fifth hole, brandishing hand-made posters. Decked out in glitter, name-puns like “Almond Joy” and some slightly unflattering photos from the local newspaper. (Don’t worry, our friendship survived the “2025 Selfies Poster Incident.” Barely. I’m talking to you Sam and Katie).

Reflecting on my journey of ups, downs, lefts, and rights, I have been nothing less than grateful for the people who have supported me because they created an environment where I never doubted my golfing. I never stopped and considered quitting because this was my team and this was my sport. Last month, in an interview for the Salem News Student-Athlete of the Year Award—which I ended up winning, woot-woot!—I was asked, “If you could go back to freshman year and there were enough girls playing, would you choose to go through high school on the co-ed golf team as the only girl, or would you rather spend your time on the girls’ golf team?”

It was supposed to be a complex theoretical question—the type to make you a deer in headlights as you gauge the amount of “brownie points” the response is worth, and adjust accordingly to balance sincerity, emotional depth, and a sprinkle of humor.

Yet the answer was so clearly apparent to me.

As the panel looked on, I answered, “I’d like to preface this by acknowledging that in the future I’d love for there to be a girls’ golf team because I want people to play an amazing sport without doubting themselves because they fear gender stereotypes. That said, if I had to go back in time, I’d take my experience over a million times. When I played with the high school team, I didn’t view them as ‘the dudes,’ they were simply my teammates, peers, and friends. And while admittedly I did learn an obscene amount about fantasy football from them, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.”

Joy Meshulam (second from the right) with her Marblehead High School Golf Team and Coach Bob Green. (Photo Courtesy of Joy Meshulam)