Colin Kaepernick, Racial Identity and the Power of Protest

• • US football

NFL player Colin Kaepernick has made headlines recently by refusing to stand for the national anthem before football games in protest. It’s a protest linked to racial identity and politics, as Kaepernick has said that he wants to draw attention to the issue of police brutality, specifically toward people of color in the US. However, a number of political pundits, celebrities and self-identified patriots on social media have taken issue with Kaepernick’s protest. While some of the push back he has received is about the politics of patriotism, a good deal of it is about whether his racial identity gives him the authority and legitimacy to talk about race.

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Kaepernick is biracial and was adopted and raised by white parents. His white birthmother is among the critics of his protest, who scolded him on Twitter, saying:

Some, like Fox News anchor Brian Kilmead, thought Kaepernick ungrateful to his white adoptive parents. Kilmead said: “Let’s be honest, he was adopted by two white parents, he was well supported. He is a great athlete, I’m sure he worked hard, I also heard his grades were great.”

Issues of racial identity and colorism are a key part of this story, as Rebecca Carroll writing at The Guardian, observes:

“While being light-skinned black or biracial, as Kaepernick is, affords its own privileges in a society riddled not just by racism but also by colorism, it doesn’t offer full immunity from racism – or anything close to it. Trolls called Kaepernick racial epithets, after all. He is a reminder that being black in America, no matter how light or dark skinned you are, means shielding yourself against the inevitable arbitrary assessment of your worth at the drop of a dime.”

As a self-identified multiracial scholar, the Kaepernick controversy has made think a lot about racial identity. I’m intrigued by the geneaology of race and racial identities—how much our categories for racial identification shift, yet how much they seemingly remain the same. The interest isn’t purely an intellectual one-it’s personal too. My mother is White (Irish) and my father is Brown (Latino). Because race is so salient in the United States—it’s how we organize and categorize much of our society—race is an integral part of our identity.

Personally, I’ve just had a difficult journey figuring out where I fit in. I was never Latina enough. I didn’t speak the language or embody the culture. Whites knew I wasn’t one of them-my nose looked different, my hair much too dark. But in a society that places a premium on race, how do you find consciousness if your existence has been racialized but you don’t fit into the preexisting racial categories? How can you be heard? What is your role in the fight for racial justice?

The public often uses racial identity as a litmus test as to whether people can attest to certain kinds of racial realities and lived experiences. If you’re black, then you can discuss the lived experiences of what your particular life has been like as a veritable person of color. If you’re white, you can try to understand the realities of white privilege and the oppression people of color must contend with in their daily navigation of life. But racial identity in much of the Western world has largely been constructed as dichotomous—you are black or you are white. If you’re racially ambiguous, your own testament to experiences as a member of a marginalized community is often silenced.

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Kaepernick, like Jesse Williams an actor with a black father and a white mother who spoke out about racial injustice in a speech at the BET awards, have both faced resistance because of their mixed racial backgrounds, though both self-identify as Black. As the number of biracial and multiracial people in the United States increases, how do we reconfigure racial categories in a way that allows people to define their own realities and speak about issues that affect them as racialized bodies and beings?

Biracial and multiracial communities are not a monolith and they experience varying degrees of racialization. To be black and white is not the same as being white and Japanese. The racial identities of multiracial and biracial people are often constructed and decided for them, not by them, and when they do speak to issues of racism they are often silenced or discredited. In a country that continues to be plagued by the insidiousness of racism, the inclusion and validation of the experiences of marginalization is more important than ever to spark change.

 

In his prescient and seminal work, The Souls of Black Folk, sociologist W.E.B DuBois suggested that, “The problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the color-line.” Written in 1903, DuBois couldn’t foresee how relevant and timely his work would be in the 21st century. Dubois explores the black experience in the United States and the construction of race and its implications for power and control. One of Dubois’ more salient concepts, “double consciousness,” articulates the experience of viewing yourself through the eyes of the oppressed and the oppressor simultaneously and asserts a framework for understanding the lived experiences of people of color. Conversely, in The Souls of White Folk (1920), DuBois aims to understand whiteness and its accompanying constructed and ensuing white superiority, imperialism, and colonialization.

 

In Black Skin, White Masks (1952), philosopher Frantz Fanon spends much time unpacking the psychological implications of colonization for people of color, articulating a resistance theory that defied the “dependency complex of the colonized” (Chapter 4). Fanon argues that Black people must actualize their critical consciousness toward empowerment. White people have constructed whiteness to be superior, and some Black people, Fanon posits, internalize the notion that white people are superior and develop an inferiority complex. But what happens to people of a multiracial or biracial background? Where do they (we) fit in now? Where did they (we) fit in historically?

 

Historically, there has only been Black or White when it comes to racial identity. There has been little wiggle room in between for emerging/shifting/evolving racial identities. This racially dichtomized categorization has been reinforced through our history. For example, think of the antiquated “one drop rule,” which decreed that anyone with a drop of “black blood” would be considered black. During slavery, children born to a slave mother immediately adopted her social and racial status despite the racial status of the father. Sure, you had the dehumanizing and mathematical sounding fractional configurations of racial identity—octoroon, quadroon, and mulatto. But all of those labels signified varying degrees of blackness. Biraciality and multiracialty weren’t concrete identities; to whites, these were gradations of Blackness. To other blacks, those gradations came with social and material benefits associated with proximity to whiteness.

 

By refusing to stand for the national anthem, Colin Kaepernick has not only made headlines. He’s asserted his right to speak out about racial justice and distanced himself from the benefits of whiteness.

 

 

~ Alyssa Lyons is a graduate student in sociology at The Graduate Center, CUNY

 

U.S. Football: Grounded in White Masculine Framing

• • US football

Theodore Roosevelt was the U.S. President from 1901-1909, a “manly man,” and an avid football advocate. As the “new American man” was beginning to take shape in the latter portion of the 19th century, the ideal was primarily being forged by

narratives that captured the experience and imagination of the Anglo-American settler, stories that were surely instrumental in nullifying guilt related to genocide and set the pattern of narrative for future US writers, poets, and historians.

As this ideology of “manifest destiny” became normalized, internalized, and institutionalized, there was a need for white masculinity to continue to redefine and re-invent itself. In doing so, figures like Roosevelt paved the way for a post-genocidal expansion ideal for white masculinity. Defining this new tough, rugged, militaristic form of what constitutes a “man” incited a social and cultural response in white America that still drives American society today: organized football. In this blog post I examine a trend uncovered in Google’s Ngram viewer and situate the sport of football as a social and cultural response to white masculinity as it was being defined in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Defining (white) masculinity

As the settler-colonial conquest of Euro-Americans over the North American lands came to a close, most white-opposition (e.g., opposition by Native American nations, Mexicans, etc.) had been completely removed from the imperial vision of the U.S. White masculinity had predominantly been defined through the subjugation, colonization, and genocide of other peoples of color, such as the African/African-American slaves, the “Indian savages,” etc. However, as manifest destiny came to fruition in the North American lands, there was a need to redefine the “predatory ethic” inherent to white masculinity with a growing absence of those upon which whites could “prey.” From 1800-1890, Ngram shows a steady rise in the usage of the word “manliness” in popular texts of the time. These seminal writings of the time include works by Chapin in 1856, Hotchkin in 1864, and Hughes and Figgis in the 1880s. All of these defining texts are rooted in the Anglo-Protestant definition of a “man” (i.e., strong, brave, pious, intelligent, hard-worker, etc.). These Protestant definitions were always in relation the subjugated female who was to be docile, faithful, subservient, etc. As an example of the Anglo-Protestant root of white manliness, Figgis writes

Most young men know that the Latin word for “man” – at least, for a right manly man – is the word from which our English word virtue comes. Its derivative, as Dr. Trench has noticed, meant, on the lips of a Roman, physical strength and courage. It has sunk with the modern Italians, and with us when we speak of articles of “vertu,” to be applied to external art. And it has risen in the English word virtue, to the act and habit of duty. We may feel a modest national pride in this, and may gratefully conclude that in the thought of Englishmen virtue is the highest quality of a man; and so that manliness is most fully developed – the virtues, shall we say, of BRAVERY, HONESTY, ACTIVITY, and PIETY.(Capitalized for emphasis)

Here we see close ties in defining manhood between concepts like virtuosity, strength and courage, Englishness, and piety. So what we have then is a defining period for white masculinity, particularly in North America as white men demonstrated a delusional need for domination of others.

According to my search using the Ngram viewer, the textual use of the word “manliness” peaks around 1890. Interestingly, as the use of manliness approaches its peak throughout the 1880s, we begin to see the use (and increase in the use of) the word “football.” In 1894, the usage of both manliness and football converge, only to see football’s usage take off in the coming decades while the use of the word manliness declined to eventually maintain a steady low-usage rate throughout the 20th century. Next, the author discusses how this defining crisis in white masculinity led to the creation of the sport of American football.

Football as a cultural response

With a post-Native American and Mexican expropriation from North America, the U.S. needed a new outlet for white masculinity. This is where the sport of football comes in. The very first game of American football took place in 1869 between Princeton and Rutgers universities. These institutions primarily (if not only) served young, well-off, white males and the game of football itself was played only by white men at the beginning. During this time, the game closely resembled that of European football (i.e., soccer). As white masculinity was in the midst of a crisis in defining its hegemonic boundaries, the game of football continued to evolve in the 19th century reflecting a desire to demonstrate white masculine dominance. The sport began adopting certain aspects of rugby, the “roughest” and “toughest” sport known at the time (and certainly still one today).

As the need to “manify” the sport continued to influence the development of football, we began to see something that resembles football as we know it today take shape. Towards the close of the 19th century, football had never been more popular. The sport reflected physicality, war-like tactics, and a desire to dominate through physical and psychological force. However, as the gladiator-like sport increased in popularity, so too did the resultant deaths from football participation. The sport was too crude to last as an institution. In comes Theodore (“Teddy”) Roosevelt, often referred to as the savior of football.

Teddy Roosevelt became the national mythos for white masculinity at the turn of the 20th century. Although not a football player himself, Roosevelt often extolled the virtues of the sport of football and its contribution to American manliness (e.g., toughness, bravery, fearlessness, etc.). Meeting with other white male representatives from universities such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, Roosevelt was able to step in and mandate certain rule and policy changes to the sport of football that would ensure the sport’s longevity in the midst of increasingly popular campaigns to ban the deathly sport. These changes would include the implementation of padding and leather helmets for players. Though still viewed as a crude form of football today, this change revolutionized the long-term viability of the sport. Roosevelt firmly believed that the sport of football was the key to developing “fine American men.” In a speech he once gave on how sport makes boys into men, Roosevelt stated

[An American man] cannot do good work if he is not strong and does not try with his whole heart and soul to count in any contest; and his strength will be a curse to himself and to everyone else if he does not have a thorough command over himself and over his own evil passions, and if he does not use his strength on the side of decency, justice and fair dealing… [I]t was a very bad thing when [the Greeks] kept up their athletic games while letting the stern qualities of soldiership and statemenship sink into disuse… In short, in life, as in a football game, the principle to follow is: Hit the line hard: don’t foul and don’t shirk, but hit the line hard.

In consistently comparing the sport of football to a life and manhood, Roosevelt set a top-down standard defining white masculinity at the turn of the century. American football would not only survive the threat of banishment, it would thrive. The sport rapidly spread to universities throughout the U.S. until we eventually had youth leagues, interscholastic competition, and professional leagues.

Conclusion

Today, the sport of football is the embodiment of masculinity, militarism, capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy. Though much has happened with regard to civil progress in the U.S. since the turn of the 20th century, football has always embodied these values. Today, the game has changed in that we now see a plantation-like system of black men engaging in physical labor for the production of white capital wealth. However, much like many other institutions, football was originally designed to work for the white male anyways. Examining a trend on Google’s Ngram viewer shows that a spike in the textual usage of “manliness” preceded an enormous spike in the usage of the word “football.” Indeed, this trend over the waning decades of the 19th century shows that white Christian masculinity was being hegemonically contested and defined in such a way that the formation of the game of football was the ideal social and cultural response to white masculinity. In defining both masculinity and football, we see how the two intersect with a white supremacist framing (particularly in a post-manifest destiny U.S.) in that all three constructs are rooted in white-defined notions of freedom, meritocracy, righteousness, colonialism, and imperialism.

Theodore Roosevelt, as the new standard for white American maleness, vehemently supported the sport of football as a catalyst to breed “good, strong American men.” In doing so, football indoctrinated values of manliness, hyper-competition, dominance, and imperialism into the public consciousness of the American people all while rooted in an Anglo-Protestant interpretation of “being a man.”

Today football continues to serve in this societal capacity, pushing settler-colonial narratives (e.g., Patriots, Cowboys, and 49ers) while also white-washing anti-other mascots such as the “R” team in Washington. All the while, football is still predominantly interpreted as a “fair” playing field in which men achieve greatness in a meritocratic system; that is, unless those men are black. In which case, black masculine success in a historically white masculine space is chalked up to be “natural athleticism” or “freakish talent.” Much contemporary inter-masculine subjugation (i.e., white-on-black subjugation) in football can be observed within the organizational hierarchies as black athletes continue to be excluded from powerful positions with decision-making authority. As a systemic issue, the “corporate-friendly militarism” of Roosevelt, plus his white supremacist and sexist ideologies, continues to form the heart and soul (or lack thereof) of contemporary American football.

Anthony Weems is a doctoral student in Sport Management studying under Dr. John N. Singer at Texas A&M University. His research focuses on issues of race, power, and politics in and through the sport organizational setting.