We spoke about this issue as a team. Coach Carroll brought in Dr. Harry Edwards, the great sports sociologist, to talk with us about the words we’re using and how it affects us. It was a very heated conversation, not the kind of thing you see on NFL Total Access. It was one of those “only in Seattle” locker room meetings, where players were pouring their hearts out in an open dialogue. At one point, we realized that we were all trying to say the same thing: we want to see change. How we go about it might be structurally different, it might be emotionally different, but we all want to make this change.
My man Steven Hauschka impressed the hell out of me because he was willing to be vulnerable, turning red and unable to hide his emotions. His face was like a cherry, and I was worried he might stroke out, but still he pressed on. He said, “I don’t know what it feels like to be Black. All the white guys here, we can say we think we know this, but we don’t. We don’t know. But I want to know how I can be a part of the change.” He added, “When you grow up in a white neighborhood, you don’t really see any Black people. You aren’t our neighbors or classmates, so we don’t know the struggle. We don’t know it.” Everybody got so much respect for him because he was genuine and honest. It was like a bridge between all the players arguing. I hate that Hauschka isn’t on the team anymore. He’s one of my favorite people.
There is an active racist movement in this country. We need to confront it, and so we need to address the history of the word they are shouting. We have to talk about its relevance and discuss how we can change the way our young kids regard it, not seeing it as a pronoun or a “filler” word.
It might not have the same meaning when said by a Black person versus a white person, but it has the same effect, even when we say it to each other. Until we recognize that, I think we are going to be lost. At the same time, people who argue that the problem with Black culture is sagging pants, big hair, or calling each other “nigga” are getting it wrong, too. The problems are racism; resources, education, and healthy food; and police brutality. Still, in order to unite to confront these issues, we need to see each other as brothers and sisters—as full human beings—not as “niggas.”
As I write this, we are witnessing a mainstreaming of racism and white supremacy. We are seeing more violence on the streets by people with hate in their hearts. We are seeing nooses hung in public places. The mainstreaming of “nigger” is connected to this. One feeds on the other. But none of this is new, and we shouldn’t pretend it is. Racists may be more confident now because of who is in the White House, but it’s been there all along. There have been lynchings, nooses hanging, and Confederate flags flying for too long. I saw Confederate flags flying at college football games in Mississippi and South Carolina, but because they never really won anything in those years, nobody paid much attention. Confederate symbols are still part of the official Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida state flags. You look back and you’re like, “The whole time it’s been there? What has been going on? Why haven’t we done anything?” We have a chance right now for real change in how we confront racism. The question comes back to morals and spirituality: Are we going to turn a blind eye, or are we going to confront this living history so we can move forward and make society better for all people? An example of this was last year, when the former mayor of New Orleans, a white dude, announced he was going to tear down the statues of slave catchers and racists. He was brave enough to say, “I’m not going to have monuments that are a slap in the face to two-thirds of the city’s population.”
I saw those young white men, marching at night with torches to keep these monuments up. I want to say to them that just because it’s history doesn’t make it right. Those monuments stand on top of the blood and backs and genocide of a people. I question whether for them it’s really about their history or an excuse to express their hate. We can’t be scared. We can’t go back. Let’s tear these monuments down, along with the word that gives them life. To me this is what Black Lives Matter is all about—a movement to claim our humanity in a country that would deny it.
TIME OUT
A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE UNARMED WHO DIED AT THE HANDS OF THE POLICE
Jay-Z spit this truth: “Men lie, women lie, numbers don’t.” Let’s stop talking about our opinions and speak to facts. The shocking numbers of unarmed people killed by police in the United States should be our national shame. These numbers are especially disgraceful
