To: William & Mary. From: Your Black Athletes
More often than not we’re proud to call ourselves alumni of William and Mary. We’re even more proud to call ourselves alumni of the athletic department. There’s a certain kinship, even across sports, among those of us who suffered through early morning workouts, getting berated in film sessions in front of our friends, and spending hours in frozen tubs and on training tables.
Unfortunately, this is not one of those moments when we’re proud of our athletic department and its leadership.
The past few weeks have been a tangible reminder of something that we already knew to be true: in America our lives are valued less. Even as graduates of a prestigious university we are acutely aware that this “status” doesn’t supersede us being black in America. No police officer will ask for our diploma during a traffic stop before firing into our vehicle, no self-righteous white man will scan our resume before chasing us down the street, confronting and shooting us while we’re out for a jog.
We’ve been reminded by Ahmaud Arbery that for us, even the most mundane of activities can be fatal. By George Floyd, that an apology and compliance isn’t enough to stay alive. By Breonna Taylor and Botham Jean, that even our homes, our safe havens, aren’t safe. And by Christian Cooper, how brazen and confident white people are operating in this system that was created to protect and support them and their power.
And these are just the ones who have made national news.
Like every other organization and leader, Director of Athletics, Samantha Huge, issued a statement on May 31st about her (and the athletic department’s) feelings and positions about the murder of George Floyd, the ensuing protests, and the systemic and intractable racism upon which our nation was built, continues to flourish. At first blush it seems to do the job. She reaffirms BELONGING as one of the core values of W&M athletics, and “COMMITS to leading towards a community where all feel welcome, feel seen and heard.” She says all the right things.
But it’s what she doesn’t say that rings loudest.
See, one of the easiest ways to diminish the severity of any particular issue while still “addressing” it is to call it something less disruptive, something more palatable, and then distance yourself from it by avoiding specifics. So, while yes, we are “living in such divisive times,” as the statement says, the bold truth of the matter is that we are living in a country in which racism is woven into its DNA. A country where young black men and women are being murdered on camera (not “tragically” or “unfortunately” killed) at the hands of white police officers and community members. A country where black and brown lives are valued less.
And yes, we are also “witnessing people assuming the worst of a person because of the color of his or her skin.” But what we’re actually living with are the predictable and tangible outcomes of systemic racism and the weaponization of whiteness. The result of hundreds of years of intentional oppression and the creation and adaptation of systems and structures that marginalize black and brown individuals and their communities.
The same way the framers of our nation codified slavery by not mentioning it or any iteration one single time in our Constitution (slaves referred to as things like “all other persons”), this statement’s intentional language offers W&M Athletics the opportunity to appear progressive, while not angering or ostracizing a donor base that would likely balk at the unabated truth. Terms like “murder,” “police,” and “racism” are glaringly absent. This is performance art. This allows the institution to be a part of the moment and get credit for “standing up for its athletes” without truly being part of the movement or incurring any level of expectation. It isn’t an accident or an oversight that these words are nowhere to be found in this statement. We are left to infer and therefore praise awareness and commitment that doesn’t truly exist.
The Lemon Project, established at William and Mary in 2009, is a “multifaceted and dynamic attempt to rectify wrongs perpetrated against African Americans by William & Mary through action or inaction.” Through this work, William & Mary acknowledges publicly that the “university had owned and exploited slave labor from its founding to the Civil War; and that it had failed to take a stand against segregation during the Jim Crow Era.” Yet, in 2020, as the College itself takes steps to confront its past, the word “racism” is conspicuously missing from this public statement.
Mrs. Huge, if you really want to stand with your black athletes, coaches, staff members, and make demonstrable, enduring change (instead of what amounts to nothing more than an indirect and vague expression of solidarity), it’s time to be brave enough to call it what it is. You wouldn’t call cancer an “oncologic abnormality.” Your black athletes of the past, present, and future who have worn, and will wear, the green and gold, and depart Williamsburg into a country where even on camera, we’re murdered, implore you to reexamine the strength of your stance. To be the ally that we believe you want to be, the one we need in order to live safer lives, we urge you to candidly have the uncomfortable conversations, give space for, and encourage, your colleagues and athletes to do the same, and freely and openly identify the issues you purport to fight.
Signed,
Price A. Thomas, Men’s Soccer, 2010
Preston Whitlock, Men’s Soccer, 2010
Taelor Salmon, Women’s Lacrosse, 2014
Aleia Gland, Women’s Basketball, 2011
Chanel Murchison, Women’s Basketball, 2013
Alan Koger, Men’s Soccer, 2011
Sam Onyeador, Men’s Soccer, 2018
DeBrian Holmes, Football, 2009
Aaron Baldwin, Men’s Soccer, 2014
Taylor Dyson, Women’s Soccer, 2015
David A. Caldwell, Football, 2010
(updated 6/05/2020)
