The big story of the week has communities across the nation appalled by the actions of one man, continuing a trend of perceived bad behavior. This man, who has been the recipient of a public and unapologetic bashing by major news networks for the past 13 months, has found himself in the spotlight yet again, as he’s reaffirmed his villain status in the eyes of anyone not actively in his camp. And yet, he wore the villain's metaphorical black hat with pride as his rogue mentality and high-wire antics once again won the day for his fans, his cause and even himself.
Yes, of course. I’m talking about Grayson Allen...and that other guy (but more about him later). For now, it’s another “Grayson Allen incident,” this one more embellished than all the rest.
The Duke basketball player—a 21-year-old, gifted, versatile, confident, aggressive, white showman from Jacksonville, Fla.—has been subject to more controversy by ESPN and other media outlets than any college basketball player in recent memory. Never the source of any off-the-court scandal or serious locker-room problems, Allen has been derided, shamed and even threatened by sports journalists, the college basketball community and the ever-present Duke basketball anti’s for his in-game errors of judgment, and the reputation that now shadows him.
With each televised, tweeted or recorded report of Allen's tendency to trip an opposing player came a desire to delve deeper into the psychology of such behaviors. And with that came a series of irresponsible assumptions about the young man's character. Like all good villains, Allen gave a highly-visible, low-hanging target to the media and to fans eager to vent their frustration with "dirty play"—or, more likely, with Duke.
Of course it’s unfair. Allen’s tendency to trip an opposing player is no worse than the various other kinds of dirty play that exist in college basketball. Just because a trip is less common than an after-the-whistle shove, a kick-out after a shot, a hard flagrant foul from behind or even the lowering of a shoulder, that doesn’t make it inherently more evil. To pretend that tripping is any greater sin than any of those other behaviors is to convince oneself that the ubiquity of these headlines has nothing to do with Duke as a basketball program or a school, and is to ignore the root cause of the general obsession with Allen’s villainy: us.
Many Duke students can relate to Grayson Allen. The thousands of gifted, versatile, confident, aggressive, predominately white showmen and showwomen Blue Devils see themselves in Grayson Allen; we love Grayson Allen, and when Grayson Allen is attacked, we are attacked. There’s been a history of skilled and controversial white Duke basketball players, often portrayed in an unfavorable light. And there’s been a history of us defending them.
It’s no coincidence that a Duke basketball player’s dirty play—and not the dirty play of any other college basketball players—is center-stage. Those who root against us, those who demonize our good fortune of having been accepted into an elite, proud and powerful institution and of having been born into families from Long Island, Los Angeles, Greenwich and Boca Raton, hate Grayson Allen because it’s easy to hate Duke. And Duke students.
So when the media bashes Grayson Allen for tripping, they are not just criticizing him; they’re going after Duke students—both those who match the notorious and stereotyped perception of Duke students, as well as Duke students who don’t fit in that one-dimensional mold.
And when the media bashes Donald Trump for signing an executive order banning the entrance of refugees and visa-holders from Muslim countries into the United States, they are not just criticizing him; they’re going after everyone he represents. But the protesters still yell “No Trump.”
It is irresponsible to solely blame Donald Trump for anything he’s done thus far as President of the United States. By the standards of his constituents, he’s been quite successful, doing exactly what he was elected to do. He promised a border wall, an end to Obamacare, the defunding of pro-choice organizations and an extreme vetting of Muslims and refugees. In his first 10 days in office, he’s made significant progress toward accomplishing each of those measures. It’s seductive to pronounce Donald Trump as the root cause of many people’s frustrations and fears, to tab him the villain and further empower and vilify the Trump “brand” which has dominated newsfeeds around the world.
But with each signature of an executive order, Trump is using his (soon-to-be souvenir) pens to represent the autographs of millions and millions of Americans who care far more about fulfilling his campaign promises than does the man himself.
To merely label Donald Trump the American villain for the next four years is to distract ourselves from addressing the necessary conversation to be had with each other. Just as Grayson Allen is click-bait for easy access to a Duke-bashing party, Donald Trump is protest-bait for liberals. He’s taken the burden of carrying out vastly unpopular actions on behalf of those who feel disrespected by an increasingly liberal world. And to focus on either one of of these infamous targets of hate, without admitting to the truth of the villainy behind them or in ourselves, is a fool's errand.
Allen never asked to be the scapegoat for general Duke hatred. Trump volunteered for the position. Trump’s desire to become the headline—and stay there—keeps his constituents comfortable and concealed, clad in a camouflaging whiteness that looks like and acts an awful lot like the way critics portray Duke’s student section.
To attempt to understand Trump’s executive actions—and the people that support them—is the first step toward working to convince fellow Americans that their approach toward making America “great” is not the only way. It may not even be the right way. We all must do some deeper digging into the villains presented by the media.
To call this “Trump’s America” is to take pressure off of those people who influence his every move. It’s clear that President Trump has done his supporters the great favor of redirecting all that negative media coverage and public attention toward himself, this time with a flagrant foul of his own: tripping up the American dream.
Jackson Prince is a Trinity sophomore and editorial page editor of The Chronicle. His column, “trump and i” runs on alternate Mondays.
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