Ways of Grace
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I also wanted to use my voice and my role as an athlete to make a difference, to turn this unfortunate incident into a catalyst for change in the relationship between the police and the public they serve, in a way that would be helpful to both. But for many months I wondered if I was the right person to do it. I’m an athlete, not an activist. Why would anyone care about what I have to say off the tennis court? Then I thought about a man who has been an inspiration to me. Arthur Ashe inspired me as a tennis player. He was also one of the greatest activists of his generation. A man of many firsts on and off the court, Ashe was the first African American to win the men’s singles at Wimbledon and the US Open, and the first black American to be ranked number one in the world. Using his platform, Ashe pushed to create inner-city tennis programs for teens, and he was an advocate against apartheid in South Africa. He even obtained a visa so he could visit and play tennis there to inspire the people of the country.
As exemplary a tennis player as he was, Ashe was also inspirational for how he conducted himself outside tennis. For the last fourteen years of his life Ashe had major health issues. In 1979 he underwent a quadruple bypass operation and then a second bypass in 1983. In 1988, after experiencing paralysis in his right arm, he had brain surgery. A biopsy revealed that Ashe had AIDS. He’d contracted HIV from a transfusion of bad blood during his second heart operation in 1983.
Even during those dark times, Arthur Ashe never asked “Why me?” Ashe believed that to ask “Why me?” of the bad things in your life is to ask “Why me?” of the good things in your life. To him, it was unrealistic to not expect the bad with the good. “I wasn’t saying why me when I’m holding up the Wimbledon trophy. You can’t say why me when something bad happens when you have so many good things,” Ashe often said. That is one of the reasons why he is such a role model to me. Instead of focusing on his medical issues, he decided to bring attention to HIV/AIDS, which at that time was widely misunderstood. Although weakened by the illness, Ashe worked tirelessly to raise awareness and battle misperceptions about AIDS and HIV. In 1992, despite his deteriorating health, he went to Washington, DC, to march in protest over the United States’ treatment of Haitian refugees. During the protest he was arrested and taken away in handcuffs. That image of him being led away is forever burned in my mind.
“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” Arthur Ashe embodied those words. He imbued everything he did with passion, pathos, humility, and humanity. He left a lasting impact not only on the game of tennis but also on our country, and on the entire world. His words, and really his life, served as the impetus for me to try to make a difference. It did not matter who I was, or what I did. All that mattered was that I used what I had and did what I could.
Ways of Grace was inspired by Ashe’s memoir, Days of Grace. Illuminating and insightful, his life story is a testament to how moments of adversity can actually move you in a direction of grace, and how you can respond to life in a graceful way as opposed to a reactionary, divisive way. Ashe showed us that we can use adversity to heal and not to hurt; we can use it to unite and not to divide. When Ashe was a Wimbledon champion he was fighting apartheid. He was fighting for those who were less fortunate. He was fighting for people who were in a bad situation that he had the ability and the resources to help.
When Ashe was facing insurmountable physical odds, when he had HIV, when he contracted AIDS, he was helping others who did not have the same treatment that he had, who did not have the money he had, who did not have the voice or the platform that he had. Even as he struggled, he sought to help the cause of HIV/AIDS research. Ashe taught me that despite the situation you are in, no matter how grave, how embarrassing, or how devastating, you can try to find a positive way to affect the world. As I considered Ashe and his profound impact on not only sports but also the world, I considered other sports figures who have sparked change, on the field and off. I wanted to bring to light their stories of activism, advocacy, and courage even as they faced a harsh personal, societal, and financial backlash. As I researched, I was struck by how many athletes—past and present—have championed causes they are passionate about and have created change in positive and uplifting ways, publicly and privately. I want to tell their stories.
Sports have always united us—regardless of race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation—as we come together to cheer for and support our hometown, state, or country. When we root for our favorite team, athlete, or sport, it is not race, gender, or religious affiliation that unites us. It is our appreciation of an athlete’s ability to perform—sometimes against overwhelming odds—to rise up from poverty, from war, from divisiveness, from even disability, to advance to the top of his or her sport and to excel, sometimes beyond one’s wildest hopes or dreams.
The journey of athletes not only to overcome their competitors but often to overcome themselves—their backgrounds, their own physical or emotional shortcomings—to be the best they can be, has inspired us since the first Olympic Games in 776 BC. Sports brings different people, different countries, different nationalities, different races, and different religions together, even the most divided. The Olympics became an international event in 1924, unifying countries, even if only for a short time, as athletes from all around the world compete with each other in a mutually tolerant and respectful way. For decades it was the only time historically warring and divisive nations and countries came together peacefully.
Athletes have inspired us throughout history. They have changed not only their respective games, but also the world around them. Some of them have done so in a big way, in front of a crowd of millions, like Billie Jean King. Formerly ranked the number one tennis player, King is also a longtime activist for sexual and gender equality and for equal prize money in tournaments. King not only championed the cause that women could compete on the same level as men, she also proved it. In the Astrodome in Houston, Texas, in the game-changing 1973 “Battle of the Sexes” match, King beat the former number one men’s champion (and self-proclaimed male chauvinist) Bobby Riggs, and the crowd rose to their feet in support of her achievement. Her success that day and over the course of her tremendous career paved the way for equality for all female athletes.
Many of us are familiar with the epic stand that Tommie Smith and John Carlos took during the 1968 Mexico City Summer Olympics. Standing on the podium in the gold and bronze positions, they bowed their heads and raised their fists while “The Star-Spangled Banner” played. They were showing support for human rights and equality and taking a stand for civil liberties. Although they are now celebrated for their contributions to civil rights, the repercussions of their protest haunted them for decades. There was a third man on the podium whose selfless support and contribution to their protest has all but disappeared from history. A white Australian, Peter Norman, the silver winner, is rarely credited for his support in that riveting moment, but he played a crucial role and faced harsh criticism and severe backlash because of it.
Although not as well known, Norman’s role in advancing equality and human rights was just as monumental and inspiring as that of his colleagues on the podium next to him. Back in Australia, the ramifications of his protest were just as devastating—if not more—as what Carlos and Smith faced, but Norman never recovered from it, and the story of the part he played is not often told.
For weeks it was impossible to turn on the television or go on social media without seeing an image of the former San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick kneeling during the national anthem to protest police brutality, while everyone stood around him. His protest has rippled far beyond the football stadium as it gained momentum, in sometimes surprising ways. However, not many people are aware of the former Denver Nuggets guard Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf praying during the national anthem in 1996, twenty years earlier. He is a precursor to athletes like Kaepernick, who made the same decision to take a stand against what he felt was unjust. The moment Kaepernick went down on one knee on the football field he ma
de a choice that has since become historic.
We may know of the sports figures like King, Smith, Carlos, and now Kaepernick whose contributions shook the world and changed not only their sport but also how athletes are perceived. There are so many other sports figures who are inciting change in smaller, quieter, yet no less tangible and far-reaching ways. I hope to shed light on the part Norman, Abdul-Rauf, and other, lesser-known activists, accidental and not, played in making history, in their own quiet yet no less inspiring and courageous ways.
While professional athletes can make a significant amount of money in a fairly short time, a slump, an injury, a trade, or getting cut from the team can change things in an instant. These are considerations every professional athlete who decides to speak out for a cause must take into account. We understand that we represent more than ourselves; we represent our team, our city, our state, sometimes our country. But we also represent our endorsers and our corporate partners and our fans.
When Colin Kaepernick takes a stand against police brutality by kneeling during the national anthem, the public does not completely grasp the risks he is taking in doing so. When the San Francisco 49ers safety Eric Reid takes a knee with Kaepernick during the anthem before a game, he is taking a huge financial and social risk. When the New York Liberty guard Brittany Boyd arrives for the first WNBA playoff game of her career wearing Kaepernick’s number 7 jersey, and then does not stand for the anthem, she is taking a monumental risk. When the Phoenix Mercury players Mistie Bass and Kelsey Bone kneel through the anthem, or when the entire WNBA Indiana Fever team kneels and locks arms during the anthem, the public does not fully understand the wide-ranging consequences of their actions. They can and have faced fines and suspensions. When the Seattle Reign star Megan Rapinoe or the Denver Broncos linebacker Brandon Markeith Marshall takes a knee during the anthem, they risk losing millions of dollars in endorsement deals and even face a fierce fan and media backlash. Despite this, the list of sports stars supporting Kaepernick’s protest continues to grow.2
As professional athletes and sports figures, so much of what we do is in the public eye. Even what is considered our personal choices have public repercussions. Decisions we make about how we look, how we want to live, whom we choose to love, and the causes we support affect us publicly because our decisions play out in a very public way and influence how our fans perceive us—whether this perception is correct or not.
The New York Giants wide receiver Brandon Tyrone Marshall knew he would be fined by the NFL when he decided to raise awareness for mental health issues. In 2011, after being diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD), a mental disorder characterized by unstable moods, Marshall decided to speak out about it despite the social stigma associated with mental health issues, especially for men. When the Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers advocates to bring awareness to the Congo and the conflict diamonds that are mined there, he is fully aware of the possible ramifications of his activism and the potential backlash.
At 6'8" and 207 pounds with an arm span of 7'4", the Phoenix Mercury center Brittney Griner possesses a gender-bending androgynous beauty and graceful ball play that make her a powerful symbol of sexual activism. Formidable on the court, Griner is also true to herself and her sexual identity as she advocates for gender equality, simply by being herself, comfortable in her own skin, regardless of societal expectations of what women should look like. She is the only NCAA basketball player to score 2,000 points and block 500 shots.
A three-time All-American, and a member of the 2016 women’s Olympic basketball team that brought home the gold, Griner was named the AP Player of the Year and the Most Outstanding Player of the Final Four in 2012. She is only one of the tremendously talented athletes in the WNBA who are redefining not only basketball but also gender roles. Simply seeing players like Griner on the court inspires the next generation of female athletes to know they can be true to themselves and also be successful in their sport.
When we consider athletes like Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova, or Venus and Serena Williams, we see that their presence on the court, and their being the best athlete in their sport—not just the best female athlete—changed the game and also how the world viewed female athletes. They did this by debunking stereotypes of how women play or should play tennis, and how they should look while doing it.
The Williams sisters have been changing the game since they first set foot on a tennis court. Serena Williams’s ferocious play and unapologetic style has made her one of the most successful athletes in the world; not the most successful “female” athlete in the world. Venus Williams has championed equal pay for all women since 1998, and she helped win equal prize money for female tennis players in 2007. At Wimbledon, women had competed for less prize money than their male counterparts ever since they began participating in 1880. By speaking out for equal prize money for women, Venus Williams, with support from other prominent tennis players such as Serena Williams, Jennifer Capriati, Maria Sharapova, Kim Clijsters, and Petra Kvitova, was able to win equal pay for female players, forever altering the landscape of women’s tennis.
Despite substantial fines, corporate and sponsor pushback, losing large endorsement deals, public recourse, social stigma, and fan backlash, athletes and sports stars continue to use their unique platform to advocate for change. Before the 2014 Olympics over a dozen athletes publicly spoke out against the Russian law targeting LGBT citizens. The law resulted in a surge of hate crime and numerous arrests of LGBT people in Russia and has been widely referred to in the media as one of the worst human rights violations in the post-Soviet era.
Some sports figures could lose much more than money, endorsements, or fans when they take a stand. At Wimbledon in 2002, Aisam-Ul-Haq Qureshi, a Pakistani Muslim, and Amir Hadad, an Israeli Jew, took the same side in the men’s doubles draw knowing they would be going home to their divided nations and facing what could be detrimental fallout from their actions.
In Ways of Grace, I explore the many ways that athletes are giving back, taking a stand, and changing the world in far-reaching ways. Sports figures have been championing causes for as long as we have had organized sports. Many were accidental activists, inciting change simply by participating—the boxing icon Muhammad Ali, the baseball legend Jackie Robinson, the tennis superstars Althea Gibson, Billie Jean King, and Martina Navratilova. Merely seeing them perform was powerful enough to change perspectives about their gender or race. Simply by being in the game, these activists fought against oppression, discrimination, inequality, and bias, in whatever form they might take.
Every step forward, no matter how small, every advance in sports to end discrimination and inequality, was a step that brought us closer to the freedoms we all have today. These early accidental activists were not trying to change history; they wanted only to do their best to represent themselves, their race, their gender, and their beliefs, and be allowed all the freedoms they were due. It is their early activism that started and ultimately changed the discourse of human rights and equality. They were the start of the evolution of the sports figure as an advocate for change. I’m buoyed and bolstered by their advancements, by their grit, determination, and drive during a time when simply being on the field, the court, the track, or the baseball diamond brought harassment and threats. The actions of these early forerunners have afforded us many of the civil rights and civil liberties we have today.
Today, the stakes may not be as high politically and socially as they were in the past, but the corporate, media, and fan backlash in professional sports pose their own set of high-stakes risks and ramifications. Despite this, more athletes are taking a stand by publicly speaking out, or quietly advocating for equality or change—regardless of the sometimes harsh financial and social consequences—than at any other time in recent history. And today’s activists are starting earlier, as collegiate athletes are seeing their athletic heroes taking a stand on issues of social justice.
In November 2016, the N
ew York Times interviewed Nigel Hayes, Jordan Hill, and Bronson Koenig of the University of Wisconsin basketball team, the Badgers. These three talented and outspoken young men want their voice heard on political and social issues even though they are just starting out as athletes and may have trouble getting signed professionally because of it.
Hayes and Hill, both black, took a step away from their teammates during the national anthem before their season-opening game. According to the 2016 article in the New York Times,
Hayes, a senior who was named the preseason Big Ten player of the year, has lobbied for players to be paid, serving as a plaintiff in a lawsuit seeking a freer market for top athletes. . . . Hayes has also posted about the Black Lives Matter movement to his more than 80,000 Twitter followers and recently joined other Wisconsin athletes in demanding university action after a fan appeared in a mask of President Obama and a noose at a Badgers home football game. Hill, a redshirt junior, also writes provocatively on Twitter. And in September, Wisconsin’s starting point guard, the senior Bronson Koenig, traveled to support protesters of the Dakota Access pipeline, many of whom are, like him, Native American.3
In response to being asked why he was speaking up when it could affect his draft stock, Hayes replied, “At the end of the day, the quote I hang my hat on is, I was black before I picked up a basketball, and when I retire, I’ll still be black.”
I am proud to take a stand with my fellow athletes and to bring awareness to a cause I believe in. As angry as I am about my incident with the NYPD, that anger is not what made me understand that I had to give voice to it and raise awareness of much-needed protocols between the public and law enforcement. I could not help but wonder how often a situation like mine had played out. When it’s your word against five officers, even if the truth is on your side, those odds are hard to deny. I respect our police officers and understand that they put their lives on the line every day to protect and to serve, but the incident left me wondering: To protect and to serve whom?