Bunny Beatdown darts through a tight wall of blockers, her skates barely staying inside the flat track line as she maneuvers past the last blocker of the pack. The whistle blows, and the Tucson Roller Derby bench erupts into cheers. For Bunny Beatdown, this isn’t just a game; it’s a space where she feels empowered to be herself — a Latinx, femme, transgender woman.

“It was like the first space where no one questioned that I was a woman, and it was really, really dope. It was full of queer people. It was one of the first places that I was a person in after coming out,” she said.

Bunny Beatdown’s roller derby journey started while transitioning as a recent college graduate in California and continued with Tucson Roller Derby when she moved to Arizona. Tucson Roller Derby was established in 2003 and is Tucson’s first and oldest roller derby league and one of the first Women’s Flat Track Derby Association leagues in the world.

“We are a gender inclusive team that fosters respect and empowerment so that players support each other and celebrate individual strengths while building team cohesiveness,” Tucson Roller Derby says regarding its values on the league’s website.

Bunny Beatdown, Tucson Roller Derby player, takes a break in between drills on Sunday, Feb. 16, 2025. The team knows her to be outgoing, charismatic and confident. (Alessandra De Zubeldia/ASU)

Bunny Beatdown, which is her derby name, plays as a jammer for league’s Javelina Havoc team and knows firsthand what it means to find that kind of support.

“I get to be unapologetically trans in ways that would be really uncomfortable in other spaces,” she said.

At a time when transgender athletes are being scrutinized, debated, and even legislated against in the United States, Tucson Roller Derby remains part of a larger movement in roller derby that actively challenges gender norms and supports LGBTQIA+ athletes. 

Bunny Beatdown pushes through Bad News Beater’s blockers in Mesa on Saturday, March 8, 2025. Although Tucson Roller Derby’s team lost, at the end of the bout, Bunny Beatdown was excited to be named the team’s “Most Valuable Jammer” by the officials. (Alessandra De Zubeldia/ASU)

Lana Del Slay, Tucson Roller Derby’s current president, identifies as intersex — a blanket term for individuals born with variations in their chromosomes, hormones, or reproductive organs that do not align with typical definitions of male or female bodies.

For her, protecting trans athletes also means protecting intersex athletes.

“People often gloss over it, but trans rights are intersex rights, too.”

And, legislation that excludes transgender athletes also impacts intersex people in sports.

Bunny Beatdown applies her bout makeup in Mesa on Saturday, March 8, 2025. While she doesn’t do drag, Bunny Beatdown considers wearing loud and colorful bout makeup almost as a form of drag — a liberating and fun performance. (Alessandra De Zubeldia/ASU)

“You’re not just creating all of these barriers and exclusions for people who are identifying a certain way, but you’re making that for people that are born a certain way,” Lana Del Slay said, referring to intersex athletes who are born with physical traits that exist outside strict, binary notions of male and female.  

Papa Rosh, a trans non-binary blocker on the team, has continued to follow their passion for derby while exploring their gender identity.

“I switched to they/them pronouns, right in the first couple of weeks that I joined Tucson Roller Derby.”

At first, Papa Rosh was worried that connecting more with their masculine side would jeopardize their place in the league. But their evolving gender identity and expression hasn’t been a barrier — not in playing roller derby nor in community building.

Tucson Roller Derby players huddle together to strategize their next play during practice in Tucson on Sunday, Feb. 16, 2025. Roller derby is a stragic sport that relies on deep trust and collaboration between teammates. (Alessandra De Zubeldia/ASU)

“It’s been really cool to see the ways in which it doesn’t change anything or matter. People have played with me before I started taking hormones. They’re still playing with me now, and there’s no question that I’m still a part of Tucson Roller Derby in the same way that I was before,” Papa Rosh said.

The track is also a space where players like Bunny Beatdown can challenge their own ingrained societal ideas surrounding gender. 

“The physicalness, the sport, the intensity are things that my gendered brain is like, those are ‘man’ things. And here I am with a bunch of people who aren’t men doing those things and being like that,” Bunny Beatdown said.

Members of Tucson Roller Derby’s Javalina Havoc team get drinks and food after the bout in Mesa on Saturday, March 8, 2025. After winding down from the game, the team drives back down to Tucson. (Alessandra De Zubeldia/ASU)

After a bout in Mesa earlier this year, the team went out for food and drinks. They sat around a fire and talked about the game and about their lives outside of roller derby. 

Bunny Beatdown was beaming, and it wasn’t just the glow emanating from the bonfire flames.

“I’m just so grateful to be a part of such a supportive group of people. I love them. So many endorphins. It makes me feel like it’s worth living.”

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Alessandra De Zubeldia is a previous James B. Steele fellow in investigative journalism who recently earned a master’s degree in investigative journalism from ASU’s Walter Cronkite School of Journalism....