Ever since Colin Kaepernick sat during the singing of the national anthem several weeks ago, our nation has experienced division unlike any we’ve seen in recent years. The old saying goes, “it takes a village.” Well, right now in our troubled nation, there’s a few families in that village spatting at each other. No one wants to compromise. Our egos are too large to comprehend that perhaps, peace is a goal only reachable by reason and respect towards all.
When a handful of Miami Dolphins knelt down during “The Star-Spangled Banner” on September 11, I was discouraged. On that cloudless day 15 years ago, I was only four years old. Besides hearing my mother shriek in the living room as planes destroyed the World Trade Center, the memories are cloudy, but it’s truly impossible to have lived through that day and not retain some sort of recollection. However, if anything good could have come from this watershed tragedy, the carnage brought us back down to earth. We came closer together as a nation. We knew that our big, bad nation was ultimately susceptible to the worst of the worst, and that we were much more powerful together than apart.
A decade and a half later, I’m starting to wonder what the hell happened to that unity, that patriotism. Sadly, it’s been largely decimated within our borders. Hatred abounds on our sidewalks, in our cities, and in our stadiums. There are police officers killing our black citizens, and our black citizens are killing our police officers—that’s just a fact of life right now.
Colin Kaepernick’s bench-warming was the wrong way to protest our broken nation’s ideals, especially with the white-privilege, lavish lifestyle he lives as an NFL quarterback. But his actions were not ill-timed. They come at a time when Americans are grappling with the prospects of taking charge. We’re scared of offending people, of putting ourselves in harm’s way, of losing friends. Kaepernick’s protest made Americans everywhere angry, but there has been no greater action against these issues in recent memory. I wanted to tear into Kaepernick when he first sat, but that was before Megan Rapinoe followed suit the following week.
You see, Rapinoe is gay. Much like several of the NFL protesters, she’s different from what our society believes to be acceptable. How can we even begin to go after these athletes if we haven’t walked a day in their shoes? I don’t like the idea of millionaire sports figures thinking the universe owes them shit, but our stars of the gridirions, fields, and courts possess a greater power. They have the means to expose millions to their actions. When Kaep popped a squat, everyone saw it. We saw Facebook posts, news articles, Vines, tweets, et cetera. Too many people in our nation are falling victim to the notion that the recent protests are only targeting the police departments of America. They’re not. There’s no way. In America, inequality stems so much farther than who a cop shoots. Perhaps the only thing we know for sure in America is that tomorrow, the sun will come up, and we’ll head out the door to school, work, or whatever the day may consist of. We’ll take care of business, then we’ll come back home and realize that we all saw at least one blatant example of inequality. Maybe you read somewhere that the average WNBA salary hovers around $75,000 (see Mike Conley’s recent contract extension for increased rage), or that five police officers in Dallas lost their lives while bravely serving the city for which they sacrifice so much to protect. The list can—and will—go on and on.
It’s really hard to be an everyday American in 2016. Most American citizens don’t identify with either of the two major presidential candidates, and the election is eight weeks away. Our means of communication have never been greater, but our technology only seems to keep us farther apart. There are so many ways to piss someone off online that it just becomes commonplace. If you’re not a famous American, it’s next to impossible to create change—the people that are, in fact, able to put us on a different track should certainly be applauded. That’s why we need to lean on those select few that can use their rock-star statuses to ignite a discussion of peace. It would be great if we could all sit down and have a one-to-one with Kaepernick, but that’s just not possible. That’s why athletes need to continue to protest—in appropriate forms, of course—to keep the movement going. Let me be very clear—I love my country, and nothing makes me prouder than putting my hand over my heart as “The Star-Spangled Banner” encompasses a crowd. It’s a song that reflects our humble beginnings—a hymn that was inspired by our beating of British troops at the “Battle at Fort McHenry” in 1812. Unfortunately, not everyone feels the same pride. Colin Kaepernick isn’t sitting because he feels personally oppressed. His attempt at protest was extreme, but I imagine that many of our black citizens walked a little higher after seeing that. Megan Rapinoe isn’t kneeling for her own personal gains. She’s doing it for the countless Americans who struggle with their sexual identity, for those who feel so out of place that they feel they can’t go on another day.
The national anthem protests are risqué and disrespectful, due to the nature of the song and its symbol as the crown jewel of American patriotism. However, the protests are making a difference. I don’t love the idea of sitting or kneeling for the anthem, but I certainly accept other forms of protest. Take the Seattle Seahawks for example. Instead of lowering themselves for the performance yesterday, the squad linked arms. 53 players of all races linked arms during the anthem. I wouldn’t consider myself the biggest Seahawks fan ever, but this is an exemplary form of protest that should absolutely be encouraged. The Seahawks are just a small sector of the American population, but they’re certainly diverse. A unit of Americans joined together in solidarity for the ultimate cause—achieving equality. For a team to do that, during this period of civil unrest, gave me reassurance that as a society, we are not too far gone.
I leave you with a quote, from the 2000 sports epic “Remember The Titans.” Gerry Bertier, star white linebacker for the T.C. Williams Titans, has just been paralyzed in a car wreck, and being consoled by black Julius Campbell, who was once Bertier’s nemesis:
“I’ll tell you what, though. Um, when all this is over… me and you are gonna move out to the same neighborhood together. OK? And, um… and we’ll get old, and we’ll get fat. And there ain’t gonna be all this black-white between us.”
The NFL is a multi-billion dollar industry. If a couple of high school kids in the 1970s could create change, the NFL ought to be able to do the same in the United States, where football is king.
“Remember The Titans” took place in 1971. Julius is now old and fat (Gerry died in a car crash in 1981). We’ve still got a lot of work to do, if the current state of the union is any indication. But we can be better. We must be respectful to all, and listen to all voices. We have to ditch our tempers and use our heads.
We must link arms.
