WHITE PEOPLE
UNCOMFORTABLE
MICHAEL BENNETT
and Dave Zirin
© 2018 Michael Bennett and Dave Zirin
Published in 2018 by
Haymarket Books
P.O. Box 180165
Chicago, IL 60618
773-583-7884
www.haymarketbooks.org
ISBN: 978-1-60846-894-2
Trade distribution:
In the US, Consortium Book Sales and Distribution, www.cbsd.com
In Canada, Publishers Group Canada, www.pgcbooks.ca
In the UK, Turnaround Publisher Services, www.turnaround-uk.com
All other countries, Ingram Publisher Services International, [email protected]
Cover design by Rachel Cohen. Cover photograph
© John Keatley.
This book was published with the generous support of Lannan Foundation and Wallace Action Fund.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available.
This book is dedicated to my parents, who sacrificed for me year after year, who taught me what it means to be a leader and a man, as I watched them work and give.
To my ancestors, who didn’t have a voice but who survived: I’m grateful to stand on their shoulders and never let their spirit die.
To my brothers and sisters, whom I love and for whom I am so thankful.
To my brother Martellus, who has been a guiding star in my life and always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Our success has been tied together, and we have a relationship that can’t be broken.
To the love of my life, Pele, my biggest blessing, who taught me how to love and how to be vulnerable, I’m thankful for you. This book was powered though your love.
To my daughters, Peyton, Blake, and Ollie: I can’t say enough for what you guys have done for me. I love you guys. Thanks for making me become selfless. Everything I do is for you.
Last, to people who don’t believe in themselves and are scared to be vulnerable: I hope this book encourages you to stand up for yourselves and your communities.
CONTENTS
Foreword by Martellus Bennett
Preface: The Sit-Down/On Fear
Roots
The NCAA Will Give You PTSD
The NFL is Not Integrated
Soap Opera for Men
Brotherhood
Without Food, Your Ass Is Going to Die
“N---er”
Time Out: A Moment of Silence
Black Lives Matter
Intersectionality Also Matters
Our Daughters and the Power of Women
Athletes for Impact
You Have to Forgive to Grow
Afterword: Get Comfortable
We have got to make the white population uncomfortable, because that is the only way to get their attention.
—Bill Russell
I’m not concerned with your liking or disliking me…. All I ask is that you respect me as a human being.
—Jackie Robinson
FOREWORD
Growing up we didn’t have any superheroes dressed in capes, wearing spandex and a pair of freshly skid-mark-free underwear, who looked like us. The caped heroes weren’t saving brown people in their movies, comics, or cartoons. Superman came all the way from Planet Krypton to save white folks. Spiderman has never swung through the hood, hanging from his web to scoop a family in the projects from a burning building just before it collapsed. Batman has never rolled through Section 8 in his Batmobile to save anyone. There’s a ton of little Black girls who could’ve used Wonder Woman and that lasso of hers. Unfortunately, they’re still waiting. Shit, you would’ve thought that Aquaman had gotten the memo that “Black people can’t swim” and came to the hood in the summer to hang out by the pool and save lives. He probably would be more popular these days. But he didn’t, and people drowned.
Superheroes don’t come to underserved communities. Superheroes aren’t on earth to save minorities. Superheroes are here to save white America.
Knowing this, as kids, the superstar athletes became our superheroes. They didn’t leap over tall buildings, they leaped from the free throw line. They ran faster than speeding bullets through the finish lines, breaking records. They didn’t have superhuman strength to break through walls, but they did break down barriers. They didn’t come through the hood in the Batmobile, but they did come through in Bentleys. They came to our communities, unlike the spandex-wearing heroes on our televisions. They brought hope, change, turkeys, educational programs, toys, and wisdom with them. Rather than hearing stories through scripts, we heard stories from our heroes’ lips in person. Stories that we could connect to, told by heroes who looked like us.
Superheroes we felt we could be. We bought jerseys instead of capes. Gym shoes instead of the required superhero boots. Headbands instead of masks.
These were our truths.
The guys flying across the screen weren’t going to save us; it was up to athletes soaring through the sky and slam-dunking. Athletes became our superheroes, and it was up to them to save us. Protect us. Give us a voice. Muhammad Ali, John Carlos, Colin Kaepernick, Tommie Smith, and Jim Brown, to name a few.
So when an athlete protests the state of the world he’s seen by many as an ungrateful dumb jock, lucky to be a millionaire for playing a stupid sport. But when we look at an athlete protesting, what we see is our superhero attempting to save us again. My brother Michael is continuing the battle of the supers before him.
WOW! My brother is a superhero. That’s some pretty cool shit to say out loud. I am proud to know that my brother is one of the supers that the minority youth and communities can trust to fight their fights, give them voices, and do his best to protect them.
I always knew Mike would be a superhero because, for as long as I can remember, he’s been my personal hero. Saving me so many times over the thirty years we have spent together. I’m old enough to fight my own battles now, and I’ve discovered my own superpowers, thanks to him, so I don’t mind sharing him with the world now. I mean, who couldn’t use their personal superhero?
A couple things you should know about this superhero, if you dare choose him to be yours, as I did for most of my life: He can’t fly or hold his breath
