by James Brown
My partner in the broadcast booth, Dan Jiggets, who happened to be a former Harvard football player, incidentally, made it very clear to me that I couldn’t quit. Dan and I made up the first all-black NFL broadcast team that did a full season’s worth of games, and had overlapped in our attendance at Harvard. Dan now provided the counsel that would resonate with me in a way I remember thinking of earlier in my playing days, but had relegated to the back burners of my thoughts.
“James, you can’t quit. You have pushed the line for so many young people who will follow, that you can’t step out now. You have to press on.”
I remembered when I was playing at DeMatha and then attended Harvard, the thoughts which inspired me to push myself even harder back then, that I wanted other kids in the neighborhood to feel that they too could reach and achieve things they dreamed of doing. Maybe this was more than just about me. Dan’s words struck home and stuck with me.
My loved ones got involved too. My sister was instrumental in strengthening me to respond appropriately to that disappointment, reminding me to continue to work at the things within my control. I just had to remember, and be patient in the knowledge, that God would do what He will do with me, in whatever place, and in whatever time He saw fit. “In the fullness of time,” she said, “God will open whatever doors He wants opened for you.”
She then turned the analysis back toward me. Was there anything else that I could be doing to improve and sharpen, she wondered, any skills that would help me in the future? With that in mind, she sent me to work with a speech therapist (the same one I mentioned earlier) to polish up my diction. My wife, Dorothy, who was my girlfriend at the time, reminded me that promotion does not come from ourselves, as stated in Psalms 75:6–7, but from God. My mother told me to take heart that God would make room for my talent and to just hang in there. Boy, all the women in my life!
I continued to be a sideline reporter at CBS, and to work as diligently as I could and have faith that God was already in my future. For me, I was confused and uncertain in the present. Not only was God with me at that moment, but He already knew what my future held.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before a door opened.
I was selected to be the host of an early afternoon show covering the XVI Olympic Winter Games to be held in Albertville, France, in 1992. Armed with that upcoming assignment, I experienced the games and learned firsthand all I would need to know about their broadcast production.
While there, I found myself at dinner with a producer from another division at the network one evening. He may have had too much to drink, because all of a sudden he seemed much more open and candid than he may have wanted to be, which he probably realized when the light of the next morning broke through his window.
He leaned in closer to me at one point. “You know, your colleague at CBS Sports would make an excellent Olympics prime-time host, not only because he’s a super talent, but because he doesn’t look like he’s black.” Then he realized what he said and to whom he said it.
I just stared at him and didn’t say a word. It was 1992 and I was hearing this from an educated, top network producer. I was amazed and I’m sure the look on my face must have betrayed both my amazement and shock. Yes, my own birth certificate read “Colored” under Race, but I would not think that a producer I barely knew would share what he was obviously thinking in his heart—underscoring in my mind, how much further we have yet to go in matters of race.
His comments confirmed in me my belief that an emphasis on understanding and embracing diversity, and the benefits realized from that kind of enlightenment, must remain as an important aim of our society. It is important for at least two reasons: one, as we saw during the presidential campaign of 2008, that even though we have made tremendous progress, race and gender were still negatively injected into the discussions and two, that I’m sadly suspicious that it stems from the simple fact that still not enough people are comfortable in diverse company, nor do they recognize excellence comes in more than one color.
We’ve come a long way, but we still have a ways to go.
At the core of any continuing progress we will achieve, though, is the need for rational, civil, frank, respectful com-munication. The creation of moments and pockets of opportunities by and between neighbors, educators, politicians, sports figures, businesses, Realtors, parents, students, and others that allow for a dialogue about our apparent differences, understanding that despite our disagreements and differences we are still here together for better or for worse, will lead to a future that we would all like to claim to be better than where we were yesterday or are today.
One of the things that is both so simple, and yet so difficult, for many is to comprehend the power of apology. We see it in our daily lives, and in particular our interpersonal relationships. I can’t stand it when there is a misunderstanding between myself and my wife, and even more so when it comes about as a result of my actions or words. Many times, I’m ashamed to say, she beats me to the punch, and, without regard to who is actually at fault (usually me), she will apologize. “Honey, I’m sorry for the role I played in creating this misunderstanding. I love you very much. Will you forgive me?” Of course, it makes me feel like an incredibly small person since I know good and well that I was the one who caused the problem. But that’s the power of apology and forgiveness, and the truth, that we’re all given the ministry of reconciliation.
That’s the power of communication.
At the same time, someone who has been dealt an injustice can extend forgiveness, even when no apology is given. It doesn’t have to be expressed but can simply be engendered by a change of our hearts. To carry bitterness or a sense of having been wronged within us only holds us back from becoming all we were created to be.
It is a choice each one of us has to make for ourselves—but it is our choice. Why choose to be bitter the rest of your life? We were each created by God with unique gifts and abilities—like no one else. No one. If we don’t use what we have been given—who will? Who knows what good could have been done, and who knows what the world would have missed, or could have looked like, while we sit on the sidelines playing a role as a victim. So, why not use those gifts and abilities? We are given the ability to overcome obstacles in this country with all of its opportunities, and by a God who created us, loves us, and walks with us. It won’t always be easy, but with God’s help, we can overcome hardships… and—in His strength—learn to forgive. Even if that forgiveness doesn’t come about from someone who has done something wrong who should be asking for forgiveness or extending an apology.
On December 1, 1955, in Montgomery, Alabama, a lady named Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of a public municipal bus. That’s all. She refused to give up her seat in the front to a white man as a local ordinance required. She didn’t hit anyone. She didn’t curse at anyone. She just didn’t move. And as a result, she was arrested. Her arrest led to a year-long non-violent bus boycott in Montgomery which eventually led to a change of the ordinance.
Those who attempted to march peacefully on March 7, 1965, from Selma to Montgomery—and were stopped six blocks into the march at the Edmund Pettis Bridge by mounted police wielding billy clubs, tear gas, rubber tubes—had a dream. They refused to be relegated to the life they were in, for themselves and for their children and grandchildren to follow. When I think about some of the challenges I’ve faced, and to some degree still encounter, I often think about how those who’ve gone before me dealt with barriers, indignities, and life-threatening situations. But also, how some who were witnessing a wrong were willing to “step up to the plate.”
Branch Rickey, president and general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers, was one of those willing to walk alongside others to help them to become all they can be. In 1945, Rickey signed Jackie Robinson to play in the Dodgers baseball organization, and on April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson became the first black man to play baseball in the Major Leagues.
He played that year and throughout
his career for the Brooklyn Dodgers. That year he was named the National League’s Rookie of the Year. Two years later, in 1949, he won the National League batting championship with a .342 average and was selected as the National League’s Most Valuable Player. He ended his career with a lifetime .311 batting average and in 1962 was elected to the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame.
But Jackie Robinson’s life and career were not all glory and awards. Instead it was one in which he was constantly faced with painful racial slurs and hatred from people with unfounded and deep-seated prejudice toward blacks in general, simply because of the color of their skin.
And, as the story goes, on one occasion more than two generations ago, when Jackie Robinson’s team was playing in another city, angry racial taunts aimed at Jackie Robinson continued during the game with a deafening force. A white teammate, Pee Wee Reese, the shortstop and a much respected captain of the Dodgers called time out right during the middle of the game. As the crowd began to quiet, wondering what was unfolding before them, Reese slowly walked over to Jackie Robinson, put his arm around his shoulder, and stood there silently.
It was a wordless, but eloquently powerful message which said to the now silent crowd: This man is my friend. This man is my brother.
And I would add—a wonderful child of God.
Jackie Robinson knew breaking the color barrier in the Major Leagues of baseball would not be easy. But when given a chance—he got up and lived the life he was meant to live, while others came along beside to walk with him, and he made a difference for those who would follow.
There are hundreds of stories like theirs.
I have one of my own from an early age. In elementary school I checked out a book from the library: So You Want to Be a Doctor. Upon seeing it, a teacher of mine took it upon herself to let me know—and she had to realize the adverse impact this would have on me—that because “kids like me” weren’t good in math and science, I didn’t need to worry about being a doctor. If she did think she was doing me a favor, it seems like a poor way of inspiring children to dream and reach for the stars to me. Unfortunately for me, it took me longer to overcome the blow to my self-esteem than it did for my friend Dr. Ben Carson, who is probably the preeminent pediatric neurosurgeon in the world, despite overcoming many obstacles along the way. Although I’m not a doctor, I am now fully aware of the power I possess through either words of criticism or “healing words.” A quote by Richard Parsons, the former Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Time Warner, has served to encourage me. As best as I recall it, he said that he refused to let someone else’s narrow-minded perception of him limit him in his pursuits. That still serves to encourage me.
Martin Luther King, Jr., of course comes to mind. Non-violently walking where he knew he would have to walk.
There have been people of all races, gender, and others standing behind other artificial barriers society erects to keep people apart, who have refused to be left out. They didn’t pretend as though the system worked or that society was just—instead they pushed on and through to make their lives better. Believing by doing so, that they would also make it better for others. They refused to allow their situation to define who they were, who they could be, or who they were meant to be.
They were people of all races, cultures and ethnic origins, gender and age, men and women, girls and boys, from all walks of life and diverse backgrounds. Past and present heroes, who followed their dreams, rose above their circumstances and refused to allow themselves to be relegated to a victim mentality, though many had every right to feel that way. They didn’t always succeed the first time or the second time. Sometimes they didn’t seem to succeed at all—at least by the standards of society. But in God’s eyes and by God’s standards for success they were successful by trying to overcome the obstacles before them and picking themselves up over and over when they fell or failed.
It’s time again for all of us—no matter where we find ourselves this day—to follow the example of those heroes who went before us, and become, in God’s eyes, the successes He created us to be.
And as you step out in that journey, you’ve got to understand the obstacles before you and always be willing to learn from your mistakes. Once you’ve accomplished that, all that remains is a positive attitude, “I will attempt to do whatever it takes to overcome whatever might be set up against me—to believe that it is possible for me to go where I should go.” A defeatist attitude won’t do anything for you except be the actual cause of what holds you down.
And these messages we hear that if you’re poor, or black the only avenues open to you are through sports or music—these messages serve to further propagate the lies of the voices that want to create a picture of a limited range of opportunities. I didn’t come from a wealthy, connected background. Many of my friends did not, either. Something like seventy percent of the millionaires in the United States are first generation, meaning that they didn’t come from a wealthy background. They figured it out themselves, using education and persistence, as my parents taught me, along with God’s favor, to rise above their beginnings. As has been said before, it’s not where you start, it’s where you finish.
But don’t think that I’m talking about money; it’s about others. If you are promoting others above yourself, these things will take care of themselves. If you are giving someone a good, solid, day’s work, if you treat others with respect, if you give to others and help to lift them up with you, if you treat everyone as someone special, then you will begin having good days. When you give, you better prepare yourself to receive.
The Bible states that He will open up the windows of Heaven and pour you out an ongoing blessing that will be more than you can even receive. It may be contrary to what the world believes, but it’s true—I have had firsthand experience of His blessings.
What I need to improve on in particular is how I multiply those blessings. How do I multiply those blessings I have received from the lives of others? And the best way I know of to do that is to walk with and alongside someone who needs you—and add value to their life.
My mother’s father was able to rise above his humble beginnings as well as overt racism that existed at the time. As I described before, this remarkable businessman in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, had the first black-owned dry cleaners, a hugely popular nightclub and restaurant—and a baseball team. I thought that was so cool. He came from an era in which he had to stay in separate hotels, and travel by separate (and allegedly equal!) means, but he was bound and determined that he would overcome.
The landscape of our country has witnessed a great deal of improvement over the course of my lifetime, such that we recently saw an African-American elected president of the United States. Regardless of where you stand politically, I think it is encouraging to see the support that he received across racial lines, and most encouragingly, by young people who didn’t see color in a stereotypical way. Of course, they grew up in a different era than others.
Similarly, this has been an encouraging time as well with respect to gender. At the same time, note though, how many people told pollsters during the campaign—usually off the record—that they were not going to vote for a black man, or a woman.
The eleven o’clock Sunday morning hour has been referred to as one of the most segregated hours in America today. The sad irony is that many Christians, I believe, are some of the most sympathetic people to racial issues and the struggle for justice and acceptance across all lines of diversity that tend to separate us. However, I see very encouraging signs and strides that we will, hopefully, continue to grow past that with interracial congregations and denominations. The Promise Keepers movement created an environment for many Christian leaders to come forth and together address deep-seated hurts and biases, both conscious and subconscious, and move toward reconciliation and growth.
At DeMatha High School we were a close-knit basketball team, and it was a unique experience, especially against the backdrop of the 1960s. We were all impacted
by Coach Wootten and that environment, however. One of my teammates at DeMatha was Kerry Scanlon, a white player. Kerry is now a partner at a major law firm in DC, and while at DeMatha really took his role to improve the racial environment to heart.
Kerry’s family had moved from northern Virginia to Maryland for the sole purpose of allowing Kerry to play for Coach Wootten at DeMatha. Kerry played for Coach for only his senior year, the only player to have done that, and during that year, he became very close to me and the rest of his teammates. Kerry said that he had never really thought about issues of race before, having come from an all-white school, but now with a number of black teammates at DeMatha, he suddenly had to think about it.
He transitioned beautifully into our team, thank God, hanging out with us, spending nights at our homes, and going to parties where he was the only white in attendance. We became roommates the following year when we arrived at Harvard. Kerry played basketball in college as well, and also took an interest in other pursuits, one of which was his growing interest in civil rights. After he finished at Harvard, he attended law school, and has worked in the Civil Rights Division of the United States Department of Justice, as well as with the NAACP. He credits his interracial experience at DeMatha with placing him on the path he is on, trying to seek and provide justice for all.
As a broadcaster, I am ever vigilant to be mindful of the power of words and the positive impact they can have on broadening what too often has been a myopic viewpoint about color, and moving toward one in which people are judged only by the content of their character. Early in my time with CBS, Ted Shaker, the network producer, conducted a seminar to make sure that we were being conscious of the words and phrases we used, as well as reminding us that we have a responsibility as announcers to be fair and balanced in how we announce a game, and to be mindful of the stereotypes and biases that we may have. He pointed out that many colloquialisms and expressions are rooted in insensitive mindsets, and carelessly chosen words.