There are moments when disappointment lands like a surprise. And then there are moments when it settles in with a familiar exhaustion — heavy, predictable and painfully unsurprising. After the United States men’s hockey team won Olympic gold, President Donald Trump called the team in their locker room to congratulate them and extend an invitation to the State of the Union address. That part was easy. That part was expected.
What followed was not. During the call, Trump joked that he would “have” to invite the gold medal-winning U.S. women’s hockey team too, or he would “probably be impeached.” Cue the laughter from the locker room.
But for a lot of women watching, listening and existing in this moment, the reaction wasn’t humor. It was exhaustion. Because when you are constantly treated as an afterthought, when your excellence is framed as a political liability instead of an achievement, it stops being funny. It becomes another reminder that equality still comes with conditions.
The United States women’s hockey program is not some courtesy invite. It is not a footnote. It is, historically, the most dominant program in American hockey. The women have won three Olympic gold medals — the same number as the men — but in a fraction of the time. Since women’s hockey was introduced to the Olympics in 1998, Team USA has medaled every single time.
Consistency like that isn’t luck. It’s sacrifice. It’s thousands of early mornings and late nights. It’s funding battles. It’s fighting for equal treatment, equal pay and equal respect just to stand on the same ice. These athletes didn’t ask for special treatment. They fought for something far simpler: a level playing field. Moments like this remind them — and every young girl watching — that we are not there yet. We're not even close.
When excellence becomes a joke, women are still paying the price
To the inevitable chorus of “relax, it was just a joke,” understand something: Jokes punch down when they reinforce a hierarchy everyone already feels. It doesn't feel like a stretch to say that the women’s team would have called anyone out for disrespecting the men’s program. It can be done. It actually isn’t even difficult. People just choose not to.
The U.S. men's hockey team and men taking part in the joke get to laugh. They get to shrug. And silence costs them nothing. But silence costs women something every single time.
Maybe there were good men in that locker room. Odds are there were. Maybe some felt uncomfortable afterward. Maybe conversations happened later behind closed doors. But at what point do we expect even a small amount of effort? One ounce of lifting? How long will it take for men to look outside the comfort of a world that rarely forces them to notice the cuts women accumulate daily?
Because that’s what this is. It's bigger than one, singular moment or comment. One grain of sand can chafe. And right now, for women, every day feels like a beach worth of misogyny.
Women who point it out become the problem. We’re told we’re too sensitive. That we “can’t take a joke.” But even the men laughing know, somewhere deep down, that it isn’t really a joke. What is said about women athletes echoes far beyond a locker room. What men casually say about the women’s hockey team reflects what many still believe about women in general.
This isn’t a cavernous leap. It’s basic pattern recognition. And the inability — or unwillingness — to read the room is astounding.
Maybe backlash will teach a lesson. Maybe not. Too often, powerful men with a modicum of success get to plead ignorance even when reality is standing five inches from their faces.
But here’s the truth: This is not a partisan issue. It’s about respect. When a woman pulls on a jersey that says “USA,” it means exactly the same thing as when a man does. It comes with the same pressure, the same sacrifices and the same expectations. Fabric does not recognize gender.
So when that achievement becomes a punchline, it sends a message. Young women are watching. They are learning that even if they become the best in the world, their success still comes with an asterisk. They are learning that their excellence is conditional and that recognition depends on whether a man decides it matters. Every woman — athlete or not — knows this feeling, and it's why we persist.
And this goes far beyond hockey. If our culture shrugs when women win on the world stage, that attitude trickles down everywhere — boardrooms, classrooms, locker rooms and living rooms. The little moments add up. They teach people what behavior is acceptable.
Women athletes already battle underfunding, underrepresentation and relentless scrutiny. The last thing they need is to be used as political props. If the argument is that women’s sports don’t generate the same revenue, then maybe we should stop starving something and blaming it for not growing. Women’s sports — and women themselves — are not less valuable. We've simply been less valued.
You don’t have to watch women’s hockey. In fact, you don’t have to follow women’s sports at all. But the anger some people feel simply at the existence of women competing, succeeding, and taking up space says more than any scoreboard ever could.
Maybe the men’s team didn’t hear Trump's comment clearly. Maybe groupthink took over. Maybe in the moment it just seemed easier to laugh. But hindsight offers an opportunity for them to hold themselves accountable for not speaking up for women even when there are no women in the room.
Those same women were in the stands cheering for them. They deserved better. And frankly — so do the girls watching at home.