Chicago Force player Liz Okey knows all about hate and bigotry.
She's a small-town girl who's dealt with small minds in a big way.
Okey grew up in Manchester, Mich., a rural town 25 miles southwest of Ann Arbor. She went to school with brothers who were Ku Klux Klan (KKK) members along with their father. Okey still remembers the racial slurs said in the hallway, the Confederate flags they wore and hung from their pickup truck, the Black baby doll they would tie to the front of their truck's spoiler to run into objects. And that was in 2001.
"Not everyone had those same feelings, but certainly knowing that that kind of hate still existed was by far the worst," Okey said.
Okey ultimately graduated from Manchester High School in 2003 with 85 classmates, where she played basketball and volleyball and marched in the drum-line. Okey then attended Kalamazoo College, graduating in 2007 with a Bachelor's of Arts in Human Development and Social Relations, plus a minor in Political Science and a concentration in Women's Studies. Okey was the captain of the volleyball team, president of the Athletic Leadership Council and studied abroad in Bonn, Germany.
She certainly led a diverse life—and not surprisingly.
Liz is one of Monty and JoAnn Okey's six children, and their only biological offspring. Liz's siblings are:
—Jen Okey Bair, 37, Vietnamese-American;
—Jen Okey, 37, African-American;
—Jon Okey, 35, Mexican-American;
—Ben Okey, 34, African-American; and
—Kate Okey Towler, 29, Caucasian.
Liz is the lone gay sibling.
"My parents always wanted to have a family of mixed biological and adopted children. They had trouble conceiving, so they decided to start a family through adoption," Okey said. "My oldest sister, Jenny, was adopted in Michigan. Jon and Ben both joined the family when my parents were living in San Diego [while] my dad was stationed there in the military. Then, when they returned to Michigan, they adopted Jeno.
"At that point, their family was complete with their four children. Then six months later they learned that Jeno had a six month old half sister who he did not know about it. The adoption agency asked if my parents would stay in contact with the family that was adopting her. At that time my parents said it was wrong to separate siblings, [so] Kate joined the family as the fifth child.
"Two years later, I joined the family. I was the 'surprise' child. My sisters and brothers welcomed me and I quickly became the family pet.
"I had a great childhood. Growing up with five siblings in a small town we were always running around, riding [our] bicycles, playing in the woods, meeting friends in a nearby park, etc. Our parents were very clear that we were a family and our differences made us unique. Adoption allowed us all to be a family, but our relationships were as close as blood. Within our home, it was easy to ignore the social issues race plays in society; we were a family. Outside of our house, it was a bit different. But in our home it didn't matter, we teased each other all the same."
Okey—nicknamed "Zokes" and who is in her third year playing for the Force—is 26, lives in Wicker Park and has a girlfriend, Kim. Okey works as the Chicago Community Organizer for Stand For Children, working mostly on the West and South sides of the city with parents, teachers and community members to see that every child receives the best public education possible.
"The best part of my childhood was the mix of small town community and exposure to other cultures and worlds," Okey said. "For anyone who has ever lived in a small town, you understand how close the community is; you can leave your front door unlocked, neighbors know your dog by name, people look out for each other. Combine that with regular trips to bigger cities and you have my childhood.
"My parents were great about taking us to Detroit to see musicals and operas, going on vacations to big cities in the U.S. and Canada, as well as weekly trips to Ann Arbor for ballet lessons. They valued a bigger world perspective and helped all of us see life beyond a small town. I grew up with deep community roots and wings that yearned to see the world.
"Being the youngest [sibling] has played a bigger part in my life than being the only biological child. All my siblings were there to hold me when I was born; they all helped raise me. I get much more crap for being the youngest who got away with murder, after they all left the house than anything else. My family always joked that I didn't realize I was not adopted. About five years ago, while I was in college, I had come home for Christmas. My sisters, mom and I were decorating the Christmas tree and came across a decoration that had only four of the kid's names on it. I said to my mom, 'Was this from before I was adopted?' My sister Jenny replied, 'Lizzie, if you don't know by now that you are not adopted we have bigger problems.'"
Okey came out last year, and has had no issues.
"In our family, the only common theme is that everyone is unique and different," Okey said. "I think being the only gay child makes me much more a part of the six. They each have their own unique story of their adoption and biological family background. I have my own story of identity to add to the mix. It just adds a layer of acceptance and love to our family.
"I had a great coming-out experience, [even though] my [Force] teammates and friends have warned me not to tell people that are not out [about] my experience, because I will give them a false hope that they too may have as great of an experience as me."
Okey came out to her parents within a month of her first same-sex relationship.
Her dad's first response was: "Who cares it is a woman? When do we get to meet her?!"
Both were excited for their daughter and respectful about sharing the news with the rest of the family, "and even more loving and understanding than I could have imagined," Okey said. "The biggest challenge was simply that all my family was in Michigan and I did not see them outside of large family gathering. So, I told each sibling and family member privately as [soon] as possible. My family has continued to love and support me.
"I have a strong sense of community and doing what is right to help others. My parents instilled a sense of commitment to my community. I also have a level of comfort and empathy for many different groups of people. This allows me to blend into different social settings as well as connect with individuals. I jokingly say, 'I make friends everyday.'"
Okey plays on the offensive line for the Force, which is anything but a glamorous position. She wore the Force uniform in 2009 when Chicago flew to Seattle for a playoff game against the number one-ranked team at the time. Chicago pulled off the upset.
Okey also was a starter in the national All-Star Game in 2010, representing the Western Conference.
"I was raised by two very involved parents," Okey said. "My parents instilled a sense of public service into me, almost the notion of 'pay it forward.' I've been lucky enough to do work in Chicago that allows me to help others while continuously challenging myself."
For instance, she worked with the local organization Girls in the Game for three years, running after-school programs, one-day events and a Sports and Leadership Summer Camp. She worked with youth from all over the city, building leadership skills and self-esteem using fitness, athletics and health education as tools.
"Working with girls from some of the roughest corners of the city and helping them develop their own leadership skills was extremely rewarding and inspiring," Okey said. "But after working with small groups of young ladies I kept thinking about all the other youth that are not getting the education, mentorship and support they need to succeed. I began working with Stand for Children this past year to address systemic changes in public education that prohibit students from learning and growing into engaged citizens and that are barriers for our educators to do the very best they can. I knew that in order to truly positively impact all youth we would need to change the public education system."
Okey's work with Stand For Children is part of a coalition of partners that endorse Senate Bill 7, making sure Illinois keeps and maintains the very best educators in the classroom. The bill passed the Senate 54-0, the House of Representatives 112-1-1 and now is awaiting the governor's signature.
"I'm lucky enough to be a part of a bill that could advance Illinois to become a leader of education in the nation," Okey said. "If you talk to anyone in the non-profit world, you will find individuals who have a strong sense of conviction to help others. I feel the same way. There is a great deal of satisfaction knowing that you are actively working to improve the conditions around you, not to help yourself but to help others. My driving force is knowing that I work everyday to make the future easier and more promising for our youth.
"While at Girls in the Game, I met some of the most inspirational girls from across the city. Their drive, their dreams, their vision for the future pushes me everyday to the change they wish to see. I jokingly say in non-profit work, 'Your heart is full, and your wallet is empty.'"
Clearly, Okey's past—specifically, her childhood—has had a dramatic affect on her Chicago force.
"My upbringing has been an essential part of my work in Chicago non-profits," she said. "I have worked throughout the city in almost every neighborhood. I love meeting new people, trying new things, and learning about different cultures. This drive and comfort would not have been possible without my experiences growing up.
"The beautiful thing about players on [the Chicago] Force is that we have a bond that units us that ignores race, class, education, etc. We are a Band of Sisters. I think I have been drawn to play football because of that commitment to the Force Family.
I do love the reactions I get when people look at me, with [my] blonde hair and blue eyes, as I tell them about my family. I can remember after a game earlier this year, I was looking for my sister Jenny. I walked up to one of our athletic trainers and told her that I was looking for my sister. Without thinking, I asked her if she had seen a small, feisty Vietnamese woman. She looked at me like I was nuts."
However, it was "nuts" in a good, loving, accepting way.
