On April 16th, 1947, Jackie Robinson went hitless in his Brooklyn Dodgers debut and made history. Robinson’s first season would be defined by the taunts of bigoted fans and the jeers of skeptics. But his unrivaled intensity and courage epitomized his commitment to a game that truly was America’s pastime. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would later describe Robinson as “a sit-inner before sit-ins, a freedom rider before freedom rides.”
Amid the star-studded dynamics of modern sports, we easily forget about the significant contribution and courage Robinson provided to future generations. Consider that without Robinson, Barry Bonds wouldn’t be chasing Hank Aaron’s home run record and Wilt Chamberlain wouldn’t have scored 100 points in a basketball game. Robinson’s audacity transformed baseball from America’s pastime into a global game—today, fans scream Spanish phrases at the ballpark and rename Japanese pitcher Matsuzaka Daisuke simply “Dice-K”, phonetically for their convenience.
Allowing Robinson to play was baseball’s acknowledgement that there existed the possibility of a greater game, one unhindered by our prejudices. It’s appropriate that baseball, the most democratic of team sports, reflected a major step in our nation’s ongoing struggle for equality. It provided just one of many outlets of change, a drastic alteration of our collective conscience.
The inevitable consequence of progress is seen currently in politics. Barack Obama certainly isn’t the first black American to run for president, but he might be the most provocative. Given Obama’s hype, it’s no surprise that he’s both darling and target for political pundits. But amid all the banter, some are avoiding discussing the taboo topic of race. I hate to break it to everyone, but race is a huge overtone of Obama’s campaign. But is that a bad thing?
Leave it to skeptics to question whether Obama, the son of a Kenyan father and a white American mother, is truly a representative of the black community. I think Eugene Robinson posed the best answer: “Is Barack Obama ‘authentically’ black? Come on, be real. Is the pope Catholic?”
Obama’s candidacy urges us to question our own stereotypes. Obama criticized the notion among the poor black community that reading was “acting white.” This is the same ignorance condemned by Malcolm X in his autobiography, recalling a schoolteacher discouraging him from pursuing a career in law in favor of a blue collar job. Why has “white” become equated with “mainstream” in this society? It’s this very notion that proves that racism is self-perpetuating and hardly exclusive to the majority. In fact, politics is, by our national character, our right, and should not be seen or thought of as a “white” activity.
Whether you support Obama or not, nobody can deny the significance of a successful campaign for all Americans. The difference between Obama and Robinson boils down to a difference between implicit and institutional barriers. Will it be the color of Obama’s skin that tears down these walls? No, just as Jackie Robinson’s Hall of Fame career wasn’t predicated on his race, but by the skill and athleticism that defined his talent.
Why did more than 200 Asian, Hispanic, black and white players don Robinson’s number 42 this past Sunday? Because Robinson’s struggle wasn’t an African American one—it was an American one. It’s the recognition of the struggle of all minorities—blacks, Asians, Hispanics—as the collective effort to fight against their superficial definition in favor of a greater, all-encompassing identity. Thomas Jefferson didn’t idly suggest that “all men are created equal”—he based a revolution on it. Our national identity is built upon this very idealism, and our continual struggle epitomizes the conflict between our propensity to discriminate and our faith in a greater inherent human goodness.
People have asked me if I think America is ready for a black president. Well, was American ready for a black baseball player in 1947? Probably not, but uncertainty always precedes change. Nobody knew how Robinson’s integration would affect baseball, but biographer Jonathan Eig described the sentiment best: “Robinson showed black America what was possible.” But more importantly, “He showed white America what was inevitable.”
(This is my weekly column that appeared in the Daily Californian. You can also read it here)
