Open Letter to Colin Kaepernick
Hello, Colin. I am thankful to have this opportunity to address you. You know, it seems you stirred up quite a lot of discussion concerning your antics. The kneeling during the national anthem, the socks criticizing police officers, all of it. You see, I became a fan of yours some time ago and I’d like to think I’ve seen the entire arc of your career. As a Bay Area native, Oakland in particular, I grew up supporting my beloved San Francisco 49ers, not the Raiders, who left us in favor of Los Angeles. I watched Joe Montana lead the niners to numerous championships and near title finishes. I watched Steve Young take over the mantle and deliver another title in 1995 (1994 season). I watched it all. In fact, I can recall every 49er season record for the past 32 years. I lived it. When you came along after many years of floundering by the niners, I was hopeful, guardedly so. I mean, who was this seemingly cocky, lanky kid from University of Nevada supposed to be anyway?
Once you were drafted by the niners, you played backup for a few years, showing brief flashes of brilliance when you did play. During the 2012 season, you earned a chance to demonstrate your ability when then starter Alex Smith got concussed, and you never looked back. I literally cried when you led us to within mere yards of Super Bowl victory. Literally. I told you, Colin, I lived it. My niners.

When the protests began I was taken aback, but pleasantly surprised. As I mentioned, I am from Oakland, and I was nurtured by the streets once patrolled by Huey Newton, Bobby Seale and the other Black Panther Party members. I intuitively understand that protest is an essential aspect of the interrelationship between people with power and those lacking it. Protest, conflict, and the ofttimes unquenchable desire on the part of those lacking power to boisterously proclaim screw you to the powerful, all those qualities lie dormant in many without power. You embodied that, Colin. That spirit, that desire on the part of the disenfranchised, the powerless. You gave them a voice. Us. You gave us a voice. When you wore those infamous pig socks, Oakland natives natively comprehended what that represented. Those socks spoke to every time each Black, poor, and otherwise oppressed folks had their doors kicked in by Oakland Police Department (OPD), were pulled over for driving in the wrong parts of Oakland, Richmond, Hayward and other neighboring cities, or were wrongly accused of selling drugs. You were tellin’ ‘em about theyselves!
Ironically, there you were in 2016 fighting the same fight the Black Panthers fought in 1966, fighting against police brutality and empowering the disempowered. Remember why the Black Panthers originally started? They were sick and tired of police misconduct and brutality in Black and brown communities. They sought to extirpate the evils of senseless murders of unarmed Black men in their communities and challenged the white power structure to hear and act on their demands. They demanded change. Their fight was your fight. Perhaps inadvertently, you built that bridge, you reminded us of our cherished Black Panthers. Thank you. But, not only did you do that, Colin, you also reinvigorated a whole East Oakland community.
I was particularly buoyed when you visited my alma mater, my school. Castlemont High School, situated in East Oakland is traditionally one of the schools people seek to avoid attending. They eschew Castlemont in favor of more academically celebrated schools, sites such as Skyline and Oakland High. Folks just don’t know that Castlemont is a diamond! When you visited, Colin, you validated what residents of East Oakland have know for a long time about Castlemont: that it and its students have merit. No, we didn’t need validation, but it was incredibly nice to have someone pay attention to us for something favorable. Your presence meant a lot to us, brotha. In essence, you were saying I’m with y’all, and we loved every minute of it! You showed us you cared, and, in turn, we cared for you, too. Thank you for being there for us and for showing the world that you are a real one! Thank you for taking folks to task and not giving up your fight. Thank you for not giving in, my brotha!
