Twentieth century sports history is peppered with, “the first black person to…” stories. From Satchel Paige, to Frederick Douglas “Fritz” Polllard, to Jack Johnson, and of course all of the ladies mentioned this week. If you venture beyond black history, you’ll find dozens of more firsts and more waiting to happen.
These stories are heartwarming. They give hope to the kids training and dreaming on run down equipment. They are a source of optimism for the adults who continue to fight their own daily struggles. But these stories should also inspire reflection.
Each of these athletes had to be extraordinary in order to break into their sport. They had to be leaps and bounds better than their white contemporaries to get noticed. They had to become exceptional using substandard equipment and inconvenient. They had to remain extraordinary while politely swallowing substandard treatment from the public and teammates all while at any given time being reminded that every black person was depending on them to be an ambassador of equality. If you did well you made an inch of progress; if you lost you set The Cause back ten years.
In his 2008 special, Kill the Messenger, Chris Rock describes his affluent neighborhood in New Jersey. Four black people live in his neighborhood: Rock, Mary J. Blige, Jay-Z and Eddie Murphy. Who is Chris Rock’s neighbor? A white dentist. The punch line is, “Black [people] gotta fly, to get to something white [people] can walk to.”
When we praise the exceptional accomplishments of black athletes, whether it’s Warren Moon or Willie O’Ree, it behooves us to remember this praise reenforces the heightened, unequal expectations placed on all black people who have dreams of being successful their field.
Once again, Chris Rock says it best:
