Black and Brown bodies: currency of the sporting world

Donald Trump—a person whose influence has proven best in teaching us what not to do—has again mustered up all his strength and vehemence to derail a speech in Huntsville, Alabama. His actions were meant to target, as you may have guessed, more of America’s marginalized community. He commented on the actions of players “disrespecting the flag," saying that owners should get the “son of a b***h” off the field if they so chose. In typical Trump fashion, the parties receiving the brunt of this harangue were not in fact White supremacists, neo-Nazis or foreign terrorists. No, they were the people speaking out against the same kind of disgusting verbiage exercised by the man doing his best not to hide his xenophobic and racist ideas in office. 

Just a season ago, Colin Kaepernick silently protested the brutalization of Black and Brown bodies in the U.S. by kneeling during the national anthem, sparking outrage from fellow players, coaches, team owners, politicians, and scores of viewers who, ironically enough, also sat, legs outstretched, at home as the anthem played. While it is wholly within their rights to do so, Black and Brown athletes continue to face the perils of speaking out, regardless of how “tolerable” their actions might be. 

As was once written on a shirt Kaepernick posted to his Twitter: "We march, ya’ll mad. We sit down, ya’ll mad. We speak up, ya’ll mad. We die, ya’ll silent." It seems, in the sporting world and beyond, that these Black and Brown bodies, these “specimens” still analyzed by sports enthusiasts and commentators like lab mice by scientists—as if these bodies still stand atop auction blocks—are all only good for slam dunk celebrations and touchdown dances.

Just today, Trump took to Twitter to preemptively rescind his White House invitation to Golden State Warrior’s Stephen Curry for “hesitating.” Curry, whom on more times than one has been critical of the Trump administration, had not shied away from turning down the offer after feeling less and less supported by Trump and the divisive comments he continues to promote. Curry has been adamant in voicing his distaste over President Trump's actions and words with regard to issues of race and racial equity. Athletes across several sports have continuously voiced their concerns, their displeasure, and their overall frustrations aimed at the current administration and its inability to thoughtfully engage with communities of color.

Black and Brown athletes, it seems, are to live and breathe their profession with no regard for the outside world. Only when an athlete steps out of the realm of a football field or basketball court and speaks the language of race and politics are they stopped in their tracks and sent back to their respective spaces. How are Black and Brown athletes forced to remain silent when their bodies remain the expendable currency of multi-million dollar corporations and are simultaneously at the heart of nearly all discussions of racial politics? We can install maple flooring onto courts and artificial turf into stadiums all we want, but those “sacred realms” will only ever continue to be spaces of brutalization if we continue to ignore the occasions when athletes speak out.

Colin Kaepernick was absolutely welcomed when he sent cowhide and vulcanized rubber yards down a field, or when he took hit after wretched hit just to put his team of scarlet and gold warriors ahead by a number of points. His value, as well as those of his peers, has been based solely on an accumulation of points, but the moment he decided to kneel for his own values, to speak up and speak out for his own worth, heads turned and resentment arose. 

Only when he decided to grow out his hair and don the appearance of a lesser-liked figure did the world have something to say. His body, though used as currency, never held the same value as ticket sales or merchandise. His body, like the bodies of those for whom he knelt, has yet to be recognized as more than a commodity, as more than a prop for Sunday nights. The message of politically-active athletes is clear: Black and Brown bodies are worth more than your entertainment.

Jamal Michel is a Duke graduate and an English teacher at Northern High School. His column runs on alternate Fridays.