by Etan Thomas
All of these ideologies have a contextual place in history where we know these ideologies grew from . . . To treat these people to the degree that they were treated, you must make them something other than what you are. So if you classify yourself and create sciences that put yourself in the elite status in terms of humanity, where does that leave those who you exclude from that class? That leaves them equal to or lesser than animals. Therefore, you can justify the treatment of those “things” or those “others” and do with them as you please. From this particular beginning, this is where you have the system that is currently in place now.
So you want to know how Tamir Rice gets killed in less than two seconds? It’s because hundreds and hundreds of years ago, people began propagating these ideas that we were something other than human beings. That somehow we were not deserving or given the rights of humanity under God . . . The biggest fight we have is to restore ourselves as human beings on the field of humanity. And when you see what happened in Ferguson with Mike Brown and you listen to the language that Darren Wilson used to describe Mike Brown, that was a dehumanizing narrative. His size . . . his superhuman strength. This is Racism 101. This is Archaic Racism 101 being used in 2015. That’s what we are dealing with . . .
If you want to address and get to the root cause of some of the social ills like mass incarceration and the crime that we face in our communities, start with education. Though we know that Black-on-Black crime is no different than white-on-white crime, nor any other kind of crime, because people that live in close proximity of one another tend to commit crimes against each other. What is shown and displayed via images speaks to a negative narrative that reinforces old stereotypes and generalizations. Other people have been trained and taught against us. They have been miseducated about where we sit and fit on the map of human existence.
Etan: What role has education had in your development and consciousness and awareness?
West: When I was younger, I struggled in school. Education wasn’t something that I really knew the importance of . . . As I got older, I realized the importance of staying in school and learning a method. I think that’s what I learned in college—figuring out ways to research and develop intellectually. I also figured out the best way to manage my own thoughts, articulate my own ideas and my own sentiments in the best way possible.
Developing a consciousness is a key portion to your education. Your consciousness and your cultural awareness are of the utmost importance because it is in that cultural awareness that you are able to maximize the most of yourself . . . I think that’s important particularly as we move forward and face the task of continuing to tear down these oppressive ideas and systemic roadblocks created specifically against our best interests.
Etan: Talk to me about the importance of your community work, and the level of influence you have as an athlete.
West: I was once in a bookstore in Charlotte, North Carolina, and I met an elder there. He began to tell a story about Malcolm X. He said oftentimes when people would meet Malcolm they would be overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. They would ask him, “What can I do?” and “How can I help?” Malcolm would always calm them down with his response. He would simply tell them, “Do your best work.” Whatever it was that you felt like you could positively contribute to the struggle of Black people in this country for fair treatment and justice under the law, do that . . .
That always stayed with me. As I got older, it has never been about what people see. A lot of people don’t know this, but I’ve volunteered and coached AAU basketball every year since I’ve been in the NBA. I give up a big portion of my off-season/summer to literally travel with and coach kids for free in the gym as a part of my service to them . . . We feed and have fed countless numbers of folks. I visit and have spoken in juvenile centers all over the country. I’m constantly engaging young people through various initiatives . . . What I do, I feel is what I best can do.
Etan: What do you say to the people who say that athletes should stay in their lane and just shut up and play?
West: I think that’s kind of a dead issue. There is an obligation to speak if you are informed. There is an obligation to be informed as a taxpayer. For me, that has always made sense. If you are paying taxes at the highest rate in the land, you need to know about what’s going on. And if it just so happens that you want to make a comment or two about what’s going on, you have the right to do so.
You commonly can turn on the TV or radio and hear someone stating an opinion of what they are: as a father, as a husband, as a wife, as a mother, as a taxpayer, as a citizen, as a veteran, as a licensed driver, or whatever it is. They use those classifications to qualify their statements that they make about what’s going on in society, but somehow athletes are exempt from that group. I don’t think that standard should exist. If you’re someone who is informed and has an opinion, you have the right to speak out. You’re a citizen of the country. You’re a taxpayer.
Interview with Shannon Sharpe
Shannon Sharpe is a former NFL tight end who played for the Denver Broncos and the Baltimore Ravens. He now cohosts Undisputed with Skip Bayless. Sharpe has been right to call the NFL on its hypocrisy and apparent blackballing of Colin Kaepernick. When Kaepernick’s character is questioned and when he was accused of being a distraction for his team, Sharpe used his platform to point out players who have been convicted for domestic violence, drugs, DUIs, and so on, yet still get tryouts and are signed to teams—while Kaepernick remains unsigned. Sharpe also highlighted the blatant fabrications about Kaepernick, such as that he turned down this or that job offer, or that he refused to be a backup quarterback. With every rumor, Sharpe has been right there to separate fact from fiction.
Etan: So Kaepernick takes a knee. I want you to help us unravel why someone who is Black, who is Native American, who is pretty much anything but white, would feel a little differently about the flag.
Shannon Sharpe: I don’t think that the issue was that white America couldn’t understand; I think their issue was more of, “How could someone make millions of dollars and have the audacity to complain?” Their point of view was simply, “If you are making money, just make your money, be grateful, and be quiet.” Colin Kaepernick said, “Yes, I’m making money, and a lot of money, but what I see going on is unacceptable.” They made it about everything other than what he specifically said it was about. He specifically said it wasn’t meant to disrespect the flag, or the military, or the veterans. He specifically said it was about the police brutality, the racial and social inequities, the political process. He listed his reasons.
Etan: It was almost as if he was invading their sacred football time. “Just shut up and play.”
Sharpe: Of course, I get that myself. If I mention anything outside of the athletics lane, I hear, “Stick to sports.” Mainstream America can look back at historic figures like Muhammad Ali, Jim Brown, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Bill Russell, and John Carlos and Tommie Smith, and respect them for taking a stance that was very unpopular at the time, but despise a current athlete for taking a stance they disagree with. They will say, “Well, that was a different time, they didn’t have civil rights, they were fighting segregation, for voting rights. But now, everything is so good for you, why are you complaining?” So they don’t value when a Colin Kaepernick invokes the courage of a John Carlos and a Tommie Smith to make a gesture that will be cemented in time.
Etan: Do you think it’s difficult for mainstream America to understand and recognize that there actually is a problem?
Sharpe: They say the blindest man is not the man who can’t see, but the man who chooses not to see. When something happens to an African American, and it is caught on tape, what is the excuse that is immediately given? “You don’t know what happened leading up to that, and you don’t know what happened after that.” But let them show a Black person—not even shooting, but swinging on a policeman—there will be no, “Let’s wait and see what the facts say or the investigation brings out.”
They would say the video speaks for itself.
But the video never speaks for itself when it involves an African American being brutally attacked by the police, repeatedly shot by the police, beaten, kicked, punched, tased, tortured, in ways that the public would lose their mind if they turned on the TV and saw a dog being treated that way . . . And then you see tapes of whites not obeying, not complying, sometimes even having a gun, sometimes after shooting people, but they don’t lose their lives. They’re taken into custody peacefully. You go out of your way to deescalate the situation. During the Kaepernick uproar, I spoke about the Florida State student who had killed two people, stabbed a Good Samaritan who had tried to intervene, was literally gnawing their face. A female police officer tased him . . . and they took him alive.
We saw Walter Scott, who was wanted on child support violation. He didn’t kill anybody, didn’t rob a store at gunpoint. He was running away, fleeing. He posed no threat to the officer, had no weapon, and the officer shot him in the back, and he hung the jury. So yes, as Kaepernick said, we definitely do have a problem that needs to be addressed and I am glad he used his platform to address it.
Etan: I didn’t hear any of the critics address any of this. All they said was that he disrespected the flag, the military.
Sharpe: Let’s talk about history for a moment. A history that apparently a lot of people have chosen not to remember. There were so many Blacks who fought for that flag overseas, but when they come home, they were second-class citizens . . . Frederick Douglass said it best: what does the Fourth of July mean to a slave? I would encourage everyone to read that speech or listen to it, because it is powerful. What does the slave get to celebrate? What freedoms did the Blacks who were fighting for that flag really have? I want rights too.
Etan: I just don’t get why this is difficult for some people to understand.
Sharpe: No, people choose not to understand; they understand perfectly . . . I’m going to share a story, and I have never shared this with anyone else. I was probably ten or eleven, and this white kid told me that I had a hole in my jeans, which I did, and I told him, “You got a hole in your shirt and your jeans and you are dirty.” You know what he told me? He said, “I may have a hole in my shirt, and my jeans, and I may be dirty, but at least I’m not Black.” The worst thing was being Black. President LBJ said this—if you can convince the lowest white man that he’s better than the best colored man, he won’t notice that you’re picking his pocket. Hell, if you give him someone to look down upon, he’ll empty his pockets for you. I used to think that we were heading in the right direction; I definitely never said “postracial America,” but I thought we at least were inching toward the right direction. But social media has allowed you to get a glimpse into someone’s living room from thousands of miles away . . .
Now people have no problem tweeting or posting their racism. There used to be a time where people would hide behind their white sheets with their racism . . .
Etan: Isn’t it interesting that the very thing the veterans fought and died for is the right to be able to sit or stand for the flag?
Sharpe: It used to be stressed that we utilize peaceful protest, but now they don’t even want us to do that. Protest is supposed to make people uncomfortable, because if it doesn’t take you out of your comfort zone, you won’t be able to hear what I’m trying to get you to hear . . . They want to tell you how to protest in the way that is going to make them the least uncomfortable and generate the least amount of attention, which is exactly the opposite of what a protest is supposed to do.
Etan: So what would your advice be to athletes who want to use their position as a platform like Kaepernick?
Sharpe: A lot of times, you are going to have to stand alone in the beginning. But do not become frustrated, and do not become deterred. Realize that you are standing for something that is greater than you. There is a chance that you won’t be around to receive the benefits from it, but know that your work doesn’t go unnoticed . . . You know the rules. History will be the judge of Colin Kaepernick, not what the critics say now. And thirty, forty, fifty years down the road, he will be talked bout the same way we talk about Ali, Russell, Kareem, and all the rest of the historic Black athletes. Mark my word.
Chapter 4
Standing Up to Police Brutality Matters
It was my junior year in high school in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was on my way to a basketball game against one of our biggest rivals, Central High School. One of my AAU teammates, Demarco Hawkins, played on Central and for two weeks had been talking noise about how they were going to beat us. I was driving in my maroon 1978 Monte Carlo. I was proud of my car. My dad had bought it for me the summer before and I had saved up so I could get it painted, tint the windows, and install a new stereo system. It had whitewall tires and I kept them clean. That was “The Carlo.”
So I’m driving down Pine Street and I see flashing lights in my rearview mirror. I looked at my speedometer to see if I was speeding—I wasn’t. (I was and still am notorious for driving slow. My grandmother always tells me that I drive like an old person.) I checked to see if I had my seat belt on, which I did. I hadn’t violated any law. I pulled over. Sirens blazing and lights flashing, the policeman just sat there. Then the backup car came. Then the backup to the backup. I heard a tap on my window. The policeman asked me to step out of my vehicle.
I asked, “Do you want to see my license and registration?”
He replied in a very sharp tone, “I ask the questions and give the orders here, boy, you just do as you’re told.”
I looked at him confused, but I obeyed his orders. He told me to sit on the curb and hand over my license and asked if my registration was in the glove compartment. I gave him my license and told him, “Yes, it is, but don’t you need a warrant or something to be able to search my glove compartment?” He looked back at me with eyes that could kill, so I just turned away and shut my mouth.
As they searched my car, then huddled and talked, I heard one of them say, “I have seen his face before. I’m almost positive it was from a mug shot. Let’s review some of these books and see if it matches. Are you running his plates? He’s clean? I have seen him somewhere, I’m sure of it.”
I glanced over and saw one policeman standing to the side, not conferring with the group. His main concern was obviously me and only me. He had his hand a few inches from his hip like one of those old Wild West movies when they are waiting to see who draws first.
To this day, I can vividly see the cars passing by, their drivers rubbernecking. I saw people looking at me and shaking their heads; I remember one little girl peering at me through the back window of her family’s vehicle. I was embarrassed.
Forty-five minutes of this went by—them checking, huddling, talking—all while I am sitting on the curb like a criminal. I wasn’t handcuffed, but I still knew better than to even think about making any sudden movements.
Then I heard one of them say, “Wait a minute, I know where you probably saw him and he had my gym bag in his hand. He plays basketball.” See, they had seen my face in the papers but they thought they had seen me in a mug shot. So all seven of them started to go back to their cars, except for one guy who came over to me. “You’re free to go, stay out of trouble,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. I thought to myself, ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!! That’s an apology? No “I’m sorry for treating you like a criminal for almost an hour”? “For having you on the curb, embarrassing you in front of all these people”? “For wasting your time and making you late for your game”? “For dehumanizing you”? Nothing? I looked over my shoulder and saw the same policeman who had been focused on me before. He had not moved. He was obviously waiting to see what my reaction was going to be. I wanted to cuss out every last one of them. I wanted to call them every name I could think of. I wanted to go off. But I didn’t. Had I had chosen differently, I probably would not be writing this right now. I probably would not be here.
Driving to my game, I was so mad. I was late.
Walked in while coach was giving the speech. Didn’t say a word to anyone. Put on my uniform. Played like a man possessed. Dunked the ball every time I touched it. Blocked every shot. Fouled hard anyone who came close to me. After the game, I walked straight to the locker room, changed my clothes, and went home. Didn’t really say anything to anyone.
My phone was ringing off the hook that evening. Me and my brother had our own phone line in the house and I told him to take the phone off the hook for the night. I remember replaying what happened in my head almost all night. Lying there, just me and my cat Gingy. It was like she could sense something was wrong. I remember her massaging my shoulders, which is something she did, and purring as if she was trying to calm me down. I remember lying in bed, my heart racing, and seeing the cops’ faces in my mind. Them huddled up, talking. The one cop with his hand close to his holstered gun on his hip. The little girl looking at me through the back window. The nosy people shaking their heads as they passed by. Before I knew it, the sun was coming up and it was time to get up and get ready for school.
I remember being in speech-and-debate class the next day and talking to a girl I called Little Brandy. I remember just venting. Telling her what happened. What I should’ve told those cops. How could they do me like that? Treating me like a criminal. I had rights, they can’t just hem somebody up like that with no probable cause. My speech-and-debate teacher, Mr. Bland, pulled me into his office. He listened to me vent—didn’t interrupt, just listened. And after I was done, he said something that would change my life: “You should put all of that anger, all of that hurt, all of that passion, into a speech.”