I can’t define the amount of newfound respect I have for NBA players. Kaepernick pioneered and created individual athlete empowerment and activism, and he will always get credit for that. I do however think it’s very powerful for an individual with millions of dollars, endorsements, and a reputation living in a safe bubble from Covid for months to see what happened in Kenosha, have a game day of and just say, I don’t want to play basketball. I don’t care about my contract and millions of dollars my descendants will inherit from me. I don’t care about winning a championship and creating an infinite legacy of myself. I don’t care at all about the result of what I am about to do, but I do know that I must do it. Regardless of how coaches, owners, and the commissioner feels about their profits.
And that is the strength of black unity and solidarity. Even if you put us in a bubble playing a sport for millions of dollars, we cannot just watch. We cannot just sit. It still hurts. They have put so many of their rewards and gifts on the line just to make a statement, and the NBA is an international league; other countries will notice this.
I will never believe in placing the burden of social justice on marginalized people with fame and money. They ultimately have a livelihood, families, and the communities they work with to protect and consider. The responsibility should not go to entertainers. That responsibility solely should be on our elected officials and representatives, but I am damn proud that NBA players are not only willing to accept the burden but embrace it and risk their status for black solidarity.
And it makes sense to me. Black NBA players, or athletes in general are different millionaires from the rest. Sports is often seen as a way out for many Black people living in these same conditions. The average Black athlete came from many of the communities heavily policed, segregated, and impoverished. Their upbringing is what gives many of them their edge, competitive fierceness, and discipline. Once you see and hear murders in your own backyard for years, you ain't afraid of much else. Everybody from my hometown who managed to leave in peace understand what I mean when I say many of us have survivor’s remorse about being Black and seeing just how different the world is outside of where you grew up and hating it every day. You are given a gift and a chance to leave that environment for a better life than you could have ever predicted, but the world of your communities and people who grew up like you haven’t changed, are still traumatized and hurting. The higher up you go, the more it hurts. You understand that hurt so much that even if given a million dollars, you wouldn’t just continue to sit watching that hurt continue. Many of these players know that pain firsthand. They know the pain of that Black mother. They know the pain of starvation, no lights, or no shoes. I understand what Jimmy Butler means when he wants to wear a jersey without his name. At the end of the day, even famous athletes are at risk of violence because without a famous name to attach to them, they are seen as threatening.
It is a joy to know that I watch and analyze not just rich athletes, but a league and community much closer to my experiences and life who are willing to risk their rewards to put the spotlight on us. If progressives want to see high-profiled millionaires who are about that life, look no further than the National Basketball Association.