by James Blake
That is why it is important for me to draw attention to police misconduct and the lack of accountability for unconstitutional practices that target specific demographics, like stop-and-frisk practices, mass incarceration, misconduct, and the use of excessive force by police officers. If not, there will never be change. And in today’s climate, with the riots in Tulsa and Baltimore and the deadly police ambushes in Dallas and Baton Rouge, our officers will continue to stay at risk. These issues will not go away until we create change. This is a cause I am passionate about and will speak up about, even if it makes America and the media uncomfortable.
A little discomfort is okay if we are furthering a message that can not only save lives but also heal some of the discord between law enforcement and our communities. If we can start a conversation about extending police training with additional psychological testing, or instituting necessary protocols and checks and balances, and even advocating for an overhaul of the system to ensure accountability, then being uncomfortable is a small price to pay, because sometimes the end justifies the means.
My journey from September 9, 2015, has left me saddened and angry still. It lessens at times, but then the flames of anger are often fanned when I see other incidents of misconduct. Or they are fanned when I wake up at night and think about how differently things could have turned out if I had been more reactive or tried to defend myself. Or if my wife and young children or any of my family had been there to see what happened, or had tried to protect me. Or had it not been noon in the middle of a city with hundreds of witnesses present, would this officer, with a history of using excessive force, have felt a license to do whatever he wanted, especially with four other officers to corroborate his story?
It makes me angry when I think about the lack of accountability for Officer Frascatore, who showed no remorse and did not even seem concerned about what had happened. He was not stripped of his job. I have to assume, after reviewing public record and speaking to other officers, that with the yearly automatic pay increases with years of service, Frascatore received a raise the year following the incident. To me, that does not seem like a deterrent and leads me to believe that my incident, which was not his first, will also not be his last. Officers who show a pattern of misconduct—whether they are because of personality issues, training issues, discrimination issues, or a lack of respect for the public—should be held accountable, so it does not happen again. When I consider this, and the Justice Department reports of the excessive force and misconduct by the Baltimore and Chicago Police Departments, or the alarming statistics of how many unarmed people are killed by officers, it becomes even clearer that some level of accountability in law enforcement is vital, not only for the public but also to protect our police officers.
Sadly, my passion has been misconstrued by some fans and critics as being antipolice. This could not be further from the truth, as I remain proud of my grandfather’s service as a New York police officer. But this is also why I was so confused and upset at my treatment by Officer Frascatore. I know accidents happen. Quite often our police officers have seconds to make life-and-death decisions. I can’t imagine how stressful their jobs must be. Frascatore made a mistake. But to be so cavalier and unrepentant, to not even say sorry, after such an aggressive physical assault, was troubling and deeply unsettling. Then to find out that the five police officers stood together and corroborated each other’s story until the video evidence surfaced and they reviewed it, confirmed to me that there is something deeply wrong with the system.
I respect our police, but the next time an officer approaches me, I am not sure I will trust him. This distrust hinges not only on the incident but because the officers who were on the scene stood together and denied what actually happened. If not for the video, it would have been my word against theirs. This made me wonder how often situations like this happen. As someone who has played professional tennis for over a decade, against some of the top players in the world, I like to think that I am pretty calm and cool under pressure, but I was flustered. I didn’t get their badge numbers, their names, or even their precinct. I was too stunned by what had happened. When I was told, “Okay, you’re free to go,” I walked away in a daze instead of getting pertinent information to be able to follow up with their superiors. And the officers went about their business as though it did not affect them at all.
It is these officers who are giving the police force a bad name. That is not fair to the cops who are doing a good job and making the right decisions in the moment. It is unfair to law enforcement officers who do not have a history of discriminatory practices, who have the training they need to be sensitive and impartial and fair. I want to use my voice to speak out to help raise awareness and accountability and make sure that any officer with a discriminatory pattern of behavior gets the training he or she needs. These changes would make the police force stronger overall. It would also help restore the trust that the public should have in the police officers in their city and in their neighborhoods. It could reduce misunderstandings between the police and the public, which would ultimately save lives.
Perhaps with longer police training we would have fewer incidents like the ones that claimed the lives of Terence Crutcher, Walter Scott, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Eric Garner, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, Michael Brown . . . The length of time required to complete police academy training averaged nineteen weeks as of 2006, according to the Bureau of Justice Statistics. The Memphis Police Department Academy usually takes twenty-one weeks to complete, while San Diego’s program lasts six months. Instead of six months of police training, maybe it should be a year, or sixteen months, or two years. Training our police officers is not an area where we can be too cautious.
Our officers have taken an oath to protect and to serve. When they walk out onto the street to do their job, there is always the possibility they may have to use deadly force. When someone is given this type of responsibility, there is no such thing as too much training, too much readiness, too much sensitivity, too much knowledge, too many rules of conduct, or too much foresight. Our police officers are in the line of fire. It is only fair to thoroughly prepare them for anything they might encounter. To think that trainees can go through police academy training in six months, it seems a bit too soon to have the power to make life-or-death decisions. I don’t know anyone who would feel comfortable going to a doctor who had only six months of training. I certainly would not.
Ultimately, we all want the same thing: Americans want to feel safe around law enforcement. Police officers, I would imagine, want to feel respected and trusted by the people they have sworn to protect and to serve. To that end, I support anything that strengthens and protects the police and the public. It will not only strengthen the bonds between the police and the public, but also make them both safer. It is imperative that at this time in our history we build up the trust between the public and the police in the areas where it is sorely lacking.
I have lost a few friends since I started talking about my incident in the media. They do not like that I have spoken out on behalf of my race, or my rights, or that I’m making public the officers’ inappropriate conduct, or speaking out in any way against law enforcement. I cannot imagine that if they were true friends, that my advocating for a cause that is so personal and important to me, to give voice to my beliefs—beliefs that have been shaped by the events in my life—would jeopardize our friendship. I also cannot imagine that my right to voice my opinion to create positive change would seem unnecessary or inflammatory to them. So perhaps I have not lost any real friends. I am blessed to still have so many people in my life with whom I can disagree about political, racial, economic, or social issues, have productive discussions about them, and at the end of the day acknowledge that each of us has the right to those opinions.
Although I have lost some friends, I have gained new friends and supporters. The athletes who took time out of their busy schedules to speak to me and to share their journey, experiences,
and perspective lifted me up more than they know. Their insight has been illuminating, enlightening, and empowering. This became especially true when I found out that although there was something each of them might have done differently, not one of them said they would not have taken a stand.
In 2013 I retired from professional tennis, and in 2015 I became the chairman of the USTA Foundation, which is the charitable arm of the association. Its mission is to change the lives of youth through tennis and educational scholarships, as well as enable people with disabilities, injured service members, veterans, and their families to gain access to tennis facilities, equipment, and resources. To date, the foundation has awarded more than $19 million in grants and scholarships to more than 270 programs. My new role as chairman is incredibly fulfilling because it speaks directly to my childhood experiences.
I learned to play tennis at the Harlem Junior Tennis and Education Program (HJTEP) in New York. It is a volunteer-based program that allows kids to play tennis there if they maintain a B average in school, which they show by bringing in their report card. It also had a “homework club” where you could go to study and get help with your schoolwork if you were having any trouble. Those types of programs directly benefit from the work of the USTA Foundation, and HJTEP was extremely beneficial to me. It is because I had access to those resources that I want to give back and lend my name and time to raise funds to create more programs like it, and improve the existing ones around the country. The upgrades I have already seen are remarkable. There are some facilities that have computer labs. Access to technology is vitally important in today’s digital age and can keep the kids who do not have computers at home from falling behind. Programs like HJTEP teach kids at a young age the importance of schoolwork and allow them to be competitive in education as well as in athletics.
In this way, tennis serves as a tool that helps children reach their full potential and benefits them, their family, their community, and society. Although it is really not the goal of the program, I know it helped me to become a professional tennis player. More important, it created many scholarship athletes, college graduates, and other successful attendees of the program. It also teaches from a very young age the importance of giving back. When I became the best tennis player at the program, I helped out kids in the homework club. As a child I realized how to be appreciative of the opportunities afforded to me and what I could do to help others have the same opportunities. These early experiences have informed me in my new position as chairman and have shown me how important a role they play, as well as opening my eyes to the foundations that help make them possible.
The lessons I learned at HJTEP from the volunteers there (one of them being my father) have carried over into my life after tennis. I always felt that the events I did for charity were more important than the matches I played on the tour because they had a greater impact on a larger number of people. I have no idea how far my new role outside professional tennis will take me. It is similar to when I started my tennis career and could not even imagine what I could accomplish or the doors that would open because of it. In these new endeavors, I want to open doors and create opportunities for others. That would mean so much more to me than anything I have accomplished on the tennis court. Making a difference, giving back, and changing the lives of others is much more fulfilling and important than anything I could do for myself.
As I progress in my professional life and the new roles and responsibilities I take on, it is sometimes a struggle to balance activism and my career. There is a steep learning curve when there is no rule book for this whole activism thing. But then no activist, or anyone speaking out for a cause, ever had a rule book. What all such individuals have—historically and today—are the same qualities: heart, faith, strength, perseverance, patience, passion, and an unwavering commitment to a cause. If you have those qualities, you are well on your way.
It is my hope that athletes speaking out will not be the exception but the rule, which is part of the challenge that we have had. During the civil rights era, we had a number of athletes speaking out. Over the last months of 2016, athletes taking a stand about social justice has emerged again. We should continue and build on this momentum. We should also support and celebrate the athletes who have stepped up, and encourage others to do the same. And while race and race relations are certainly serious issues that should be addressed, athletes can be leaders in other causes as well: the environment, gender equality, marriage equality, religious freedoms—causes that will change and improve the wider society and the world. We, their teammates, the league, the fans, the media, society, should support them. We should engage in meaningful discourse with them to broaden their perspective and their stance. If we do, over time, more athletes will feel comfortable speaking up and they will also be better educated and informed on how to do so. But we have to keep the momentum moving forward.
I am not the same person I was two years ago, before the incident. My perception of the world was changed irrevocably that sunny September afternoon. Although at times I wish it had never happened, it has changed me in many ways for the better. I have been through a lot in my life and I have had many ups and downs. I was given a second chance at my tennis career after I broke my neck halfway through it. That monumental setback gave me the focus, drive, and determination to get better, but also the awareness that my career could end at any time and I should appreciate every day that I am able to do what I love.
My incident in 2015 opened my eyes and showed me that I could use my voice, and my platform, to incite positive change that could create a ripple effect. As Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf said about the growing movement, “It is beautiful to see, and it’s going to be hard to stop.” It is my hope that Ways of Grace can start a conversation and show not only how athletes are creating change, but that we can all make a difference.
Epilogue
The Power of Protest
The end of 2016 and the beginning of 2017 has been a time of racial, social, and political unrest in the United States. It was marked by strained race relations between law enforcement and the black community, and a unique presidential campaign charged with racial rhetoric and capped by divisive political policies.
We are at a time in American—and perhaps world—history when the strides in sports activism are particularly relevant as they speak to the spike in social protest and activism today, and also to the potential positive outcomes of those protests. Lately, we have seen the power of protest, and of organizing and unifying, not only to incite change but also to heal divisions. Athletes and the sports community have historically been a critical component in raising awareness, starting a dialogue, and healing our nation at pivotal moments. Ways of Grace has illustrated how numerous athletes are rallying for social change, and using their platform to draw awareness to issues that are important to them, or they feel are unfair or may alienate or marginalize large segments of the country.
With the election of Donald Trump as president, we have seen a surge in activism, inside and outside of the sports world. After the presidential inauguration, there was an uptick in social protest by star athletes. After their historic Super Bowl win, six New England Patriots—Martellus Bennett, LeGarrette Blount, Chris Long, Alan Branch, Dont’a Hightower, and Devin McCourty—decided to skip the celebratory White House visit because of new alienating political policies and rhetoric. These players’ actions were called racist; however, Chris Long is white, and from the teammates’ comments in the media, their decision was not about race; it was about inclusion and fighting against policies that divide instead of unite.
It is refreshing to me to see some of the greatest and most visible athletes take a stand with the platform they have been given. For instance, pro wrestler John Cena lent his voice to a #WeAreAmerica commercial about celebrating diversity. Steph Curry, typically laid-back, refused to be silent when Under Armour CEO Kevin Plank spoke out in support of Trump and called him “an asset.” Uncharacteristically, Curry shot back, saying he a
greed if you remove the “-et” at the end of “asset.” According to the Mercury News, Plank told Curry the comments about Trump were meant “exclusively from a business perspective.”
Curry was joined by pro wrestler and actor Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, who signed a co-branding deal with Under Armour in 2015. Johnson posted on his Facebook page about Plank: “His words were divisive and lacking in perspective. . . . Inadvertently creating a situation where the personal political opinions of Under Armour’s partners and its employees were overshadowed by the comments of its CEO.” Misty Copeland, the first African American principal dancer with the American Ballet Theatre, is also an Under Armour spokesperson. She wrote on her Instagram page: “I have always appreciated the great support and platform that Under Armour has given me to represent my community, gender, and career on the world stage. However, I strongly disagree with Kevin Plank’s recent comments in support of Trump as recently reported. Those of you who have supported and followed my career know that the one topic I’ve never backed away from speaking openly about is the importance of diversity and inclusion. It is imperative to me that my partners and sponsors share this belief.”
Today, inarguably, we are living in a more and more divided country. At the start of 2017 there were peaceful protests almost every day. The International Women’s March the day after the presidential inauguration was the biggest worldwide protest ever in terms of participation. America is speaking up because so many of us feel empowered yet powerless at the same time. Hillary Clinton’s winning the popular vote but losing to Trump’s Electoral College win made millions of Americans feel as though their voices do not count the way they expect they should. But the rise of social media and subsequent protests and their positive effects gave a boost to citizens who want to believe that in this country, the people will always have the power over corporations and special interests. Case in point: Bowing to social pressure from the #DeleteUber campaign, Uber CEO Travis Kalanick withdrew from the president’s Strategic and Policy Forum economic panel. Kalanick also pledged to donate three million dollars and immigration lawyers to help Uber drivers. That is people making a difference with action.