Truth, justice, equality. Our nation’s founders and charter documents clearly state the values the United States of America, and its citizens, will pursue and realize. Starting with the Declaration of Independence and continuing through modern times, we have such poetic, theoretical purity of opportunity-for-all and democracy found in the words from our government.
But why do such past and current values not reflect the reality for so many Americans? Our history has created an alternative reality, a degrading existence for them. Why? Slavery and oppression of black people, and the genocide and isolation of Native Americans, underlie the inequality that exists today. Institutionalized “isms” are deeply embedded within our society, “isms” that directly contradict the values our country supposedly stands for. There is oppression in this country, both overt and subtle. They all create injustice: justice for all is not really justice for all, and it never has been. The disparities in our nation are heartbreaking.
We must ask again: what do we truly value? More importantly, how do we create a reality that reflects the highest values of equity and empathy? To be happy with where our nation is today is to be complicit with its oppressive past. How do we move forward? Only by having honest conversations that are based on truths and facts, and by making certain justice for all is truly that, can we advance.
To start, each of us needs to assess the person looking back in the mirror. Try as I might to avoid bringing myself into this, I must. Fifty-two years on this planet and I still have not gotten it right. I am trying. I have and will make mistakes. Give me instruction when I err. Let me list here what I know to be my deficiencies. I am sure this is not an exhaustive list.
No. 1 Blind Spots
I definitely have them. Without thinking thoroughly through an issue, or taking an empathetic approach, I have allowed this to occur. The Drew Brees statement and responses are one example that I will discuss later. But first, let me express my distaste for the term ‘blind spot.’ The more I hear it, the more it comes across as a euphemism for ignorance, and quite possibly arrogance. Blind people have an actual visual impairment. My blind spots — I have allowed these to occur, under the less-than-watchful eye of myself over my personal development.
No. 2 I Am Not Color Blind
I see the color of people’s skins and start formulating a story in my head. What is that I am really doing? Am I building boundaries; putting up barriers that allows stereotypes, both conscious and subconscious? It is only after developing a relationship with a person that their race is replaced by their values, their heart, their words — who they really are. Can I get to a place where skin color is as significant as hair color when I first meet someone? If someone’s hair color is red, blonde or brown, sure I notice it. But that recognition does not lead to anything further in my head.
Maybe I was somewhat color blind at one part of my life: my youth. Growing up in LaFayette, N.Y., adjacent to the Onondaga Nation, one of the six tribes of the Iroquois, my boyhood and teenage years found me surrounded by Native Americans. Many of my strongest bonds I still have today are with Onondaga people.
Early in my collegiate career, during a discussion on race, I recall telling the group I had not experienced much diversity in my upbringing, as there were only two black families in LaFayette. Only later did it dawn on me that my Onondaga friends Joe Solomon, Brad Powless, Jake Lazore and others would be looked upon as a group representing diversity. Talk about an ignorance (‘blind spot’) on my part. But maybe the positive from it all is this: my initial interpretation of friends and character as a child outweighed future recognition of differences in appearance. Lars, you did not care much back then about such differences. Why now?
No. 3 Team Roster and Staff
Go ahead and look at our team roster at the University of Virginia. Not one of our coaching staff members or student-athletes has any apparent African ancestral roots. Only two players (one man is half-Japanese and the other is half-Hispanic) have anything significantly non-Caucasian. Is there an ignorance here, an uncovered bias in my approach to recruiting, or something even worse? Is it bigger than me, as lacrosse is a white-dominated sport despite its Native American origin?
But during my 10-year tenure as the head coach at Brown University, I recruited and coached multiple black men. Brown had some of its best success while an African-American, Errol Wilson, served as a top assistant coach.
Is it more difficult to attract black lacrosse players to the University of Virginia, considering the highly publicized removal of the Bratton twins in 2011? Does the Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville in 2017 weigh heavily on the hearts and minds of prospective recruits and families? I believe the answer to many of these questions is, ‘Yes.’ But we will not allow these questions to create insurmountable blockades. Regardless of our circumstances, the future can, and will, be different.
The bigger the obstacles the past presents us, the more we must do. I have not been doing enough. Yet, at both institutions, many have been doing a great deal. How fortunate am I to have coached at two institutions that have not shied away from their ugly pasts? Both Brown University (Slavery Memorial) and the University of Virginia (Memorial to Enslaved Laborers) have erected memorials in recent years to expose the truth of their histories of oppression. Another affirmative response here: yes, I am very lucky to be in the presence of scholars and leaders who are true to their words and to their work discovering and unveiling the truth, allowing the rest of us to learn and uncover truths inside our own selves.
Now, let’s dive into my past ignorance of taking a knee during the National Anthem. Three years ago, I declared similarly to what Drew Brees stated, words that placed the American flag ahead of all else. Disrespecting the flag would not be allowed in my lacrosse program because without that flag, all acts of protest and free speech towards public officials, laws and other entities would not be possible.
I recall stating that without the bravery and heroism of American military personnel, we would not be enjoying the freedoms we have today, freedoms represented by the American flag. But what I did not take into account was that any type of act of peaceful expression is protected by the American flag, even if the flag itself is the focus of that expression. What I had originally perceived as disrespect to the flag was wrong. And how did I miss the fact that while I knew African-Americans had fought for our nation’s creation (Revolutionary War) and preservation (Civil War) in addition to every other war America has been involved in, sweeping or enduring changes had not occurred upon their return to civilian life?
The civil rights movement occurred 20 years after, not before, the end of the second World War. This simple fact should have been enough to make me realize that black military personnel faced hatred, racism and humiliation despite having risked their lives representing our nation. I know where Drew Brees was coming from, further enforced because I had a grandfather in the Pacific Theater during World War II, and my father served in Korea, both as United States Marines. But fortunately, I have had others enlighten me since my own statement and now I know of stories, such as Isaac Woodard’s, that paint the real picture.
Such enlightenment is what happened for Drew Brees, and hopefully many others, as the reactions to his comments poured in. He bore the massive brunt for a thought that is found inside many Americans, the thought that no one should disrespect the flag. The critical comments against Drew Brees needed to be made, and all of us needed to hear them. That conflict with the American flag lies in the fact that all those values the flag is supposed to represent is not applicable to all: equality, social justice, access, opportunity.
What Drew Brees did after was important, how he recognized the insensitivity of his words with his apology. But most importantly, the greatest value that came from all this was the creation of the discussion itself. This is vital! We need the discussion to uncover our ignorance and our biases. If he had said nothing, or if Malcolm Jenkins and others who responded had remained quiet, then this issue would not have been exposed and examined. Let the conversation happen, and dissect them for errors and fallacies, but don’t threaten with censorship or worse, violence. Violence creates for further division and racism. It is through conversations we learn. Help us as we work on our ourselves as we expose our own ignorance and bias.
The inequality in our country is inexcusable. None suffer more from it than Native Americans and African-Americans. Our country stands upon a past that includes the near eradication, and the sequestering to reservations, of native people. Our country was built upon a legacy of slavery and murder of black people. Other peoples, such as those of Hispanic heritage and Asian ancestry, have felt the wrath and oppression of the dominant white class.
Racism is a social construct created by white people, done so to create and maintain power and to oppress others. As a white man, I need to be a part of the solution, working to help this nation fix things. I will try. Many others are trying. Let’s work together so we are sharing thoughts of our successes and our mistakes. I want to get this right. Many others want to get this right. Keep talking, please. We must not have a climate where having conversation itself feels scary or dangerous because then, walls, both imaginary and real, are built. Fear those who will not join in the conversation, for they believe they have all of the answers: I fear what they believe to be the answers.
Within our locker room walls, and for now the proverbial walls of Zoom, our team’s conversations will continue. Others are doing the same. Like my good friend Bob Anderson is constantly reminding me: love always works. It does not always win, but we will keep trying — it always works.