I also had so much respect for Doug when he wrote this condemnation of the 2016 election and just put himself out there, vulnerable. Here is a portion of his essay:
The fact is that we are not currently living in a democracy. The fact is that the 1% of the 1% buy politicians and write policies. They control the gathering/distribution of wealth and power by distracting us with the importance of keeping up with the Kardashians. We’ve become a society [so] concerned with being individuals and looking out for oneself that we have forgotten the meaning of democracy. I know my thoughts may be concerning to some, but being on both sides of the coin has given me a great perspective. It’s scary to think that we are on a path to granting the wealthiest people in the world the power to control the masses. And maybe that is why so many people were willing to vote for a president that didn’t meet previous expectations for a president. The way of life of many Americans is being destroyed. Inequality is greater than it has ever been. And solidarity is nowhere to be found. The dream that America once promised has become a nightmare for a lot of people. The lack of hope and empathy has created despair and pain. Empathy and sympathy for not only your fellow American but your fellow human has been lost. We are more concerned with status [by] any means.
I mean … damn.
Jeremy Lane is our cornerback, a sixth-round draft pick and now one of the top corners in the league. He has taken a knee during the anthem, he has sat down, and he turned his back facing Justin Britt and myself. Jeremy’s outspokenness doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s a Black man from East Texas. You grow up in Tyler, Texas, you know racism is real. You don’t need anybody to teach you.
Earl Thomas, our other future Hall of Famer safety, is the outlier—he was actually drafted in the first round. Earl was so good at the University of Texas that not even an NFL GM could mess up his selection, although there were players picked ahead of him who are now out of the league. Earl is a quiet assassin. He’s quiet until you get to know him, and then he starts opening up. I texted him when I traded in my car for a Tesla. “You’re still getting gas, Earl. I’m electric, I’m trying to save the world!” What I love about him is that in both football and life, the man is a sponge, soaking up all the information in the room. It’s been great to see him become a leader.
Frank Clark is a player we need to discuss. He’s a linebacker we drafted in the second round, in 2015, and a very special talent. Frank came from a rough background. He grew up homeless. He has a history of violence against women, from back in college, an issue that means a great deal to me. But Frank’s trying to change. He’s trying to understand. He could very easily be a broken person by now. That he is not broken and continues to try to be better means, I believe, that he will stay on a trajectory to become a leader and reach kids who can’t otherwise be reached. He needs to be at peace with his past, make amends, and move forward. By virtue of being on my team, he’s also family, and when you are family, you help people to change and stand behind them on their journey. I don’t know what pushing people away accomplishes, especially when they’re young and need guidance. Frank sat with me when I sat for the anthem during our first home game of 2017. It was Cliff and I and young Frank. It meant so much to me, not just to have his support but also because it shows he is growing. I hope people give him the chance to show the person he’s becoming.
The 12s are also my family. For the uninitiated, that’s the nickname of the Seattle fan base. We may not agree on every issue, but you don’t agree with your family on everything. Seattle fans are some of the most famous in this sport for a reason. Their passion and their ability to hit record noise decibels when the other team’s offense is on the field are without compare. I once joked that the Seahawks are so popular in Seattle that “Russell Wilson got pulled over and the cop got a ticket.”
There are definitely some who don’t mind our being political as long as we keep winning and making the playoffs every year. If we start losing, the chorus of “shut up and play” might be as deafening as the fourth quarter of a tight playoff game. But there are enough politically grounded people in Seattle who would still support us.
Let’s be honest—being a fan is its own kind of thing. The ego of an athlete can quickly get it twisted. They aren’t fans of you the person. They’re fans of the way you hit the QB, catch the ball, or run and jump, and that’s fine. They’re fans of your uniform or the city you represent. But a fan is also someone we can reach. If they hear about the work we do off the field, maybe they won’t care. Or maybe they’ll see the hope we can bring to a poverty-stricken area, a prison, or our hometown, and maybe they’ll come out of their shell, and we can be more than just people who wear the same colors. I’ve seen it: the transformation
