In the
African American community, we desperately need public role
models denouncing anti-homophobic bullying, vitriol, and
discrimination. Since
too few role models come from the Black Church, many of us lesbian, gay, bisexual,
transgender and queer (LGBTQ) brothers and sisters of African
descent look to black role models, especially males, in
the areas of entertainment and sports.
But sadly, that list
too is short.
Tim Hardaway, a retired
NBA All-Star player has recently stepped forward.
“It’s not right to not
let the gays and lesbians have equal rights here,” Hardaway
told the crowd at a press conference organized by the “No
Recall” group, an El Paso group opposing a recall of El
Paso Mayor John Cook and two city representatives for their
support to re-establish domestic partner benefits for gay
and unmarried partners of city employees.
Hardaway, however, is
the last person one would expect to speak out on behalf
of a LGBTQ social justice issue.
In a 2007 interview
on Miami’s sports
radio station, “790 The Ticket,” Hardaway was asked how
he would interact with a gay teammate. The topic came up
because of fellow former NBAer John Amaechi’s announcement,
in his book, Man
in the Middle, that he is gay.
“You know, I hate gay
people, so I let it be known. I don’t like gay people and
I don’t like to be around gay people,” Hardaway said. “I’m
homophobic. I don’t like it. It shouldn’t be in the world
or in the United States.”
His vitriol, sadly,
hurt more than just his post-career endorsements. It hurt
the hundreds of young LGBTQ sports enthusiasts and athletes
that revered him.
For many of us in the
African-American LGBTQ community, however, we were saddened
by Hardaway’s remarks, but certainly not surprised. The
former CEO of the National Black Justice Coalition, H. Alexander
Robinson, commented on Hardaway’s vitriol stating, “His
callous disregard for the dignity of the lives of gay Americans
brings dishonor to himself and the many thousands who look
upon him as a role model for young black men and women,
many of whom are undoubtedly gay or lesbian.”
I do believe, with the
right intervention and rehabilitation that vile-spewing
homophobes can change. But when their crossover appeal and
multi-million careers can or comes to an abrupt halt, their
mea culpas appear disingenuous, and their zealous LGBTQ
advocacy appears suspect.
For example, Tracy Morgan,
comedian and actor on NBC’s “30 Rock,” is a recent example
of the malady. During a standup performance in June at the
Ryman Auditorium in Nashville,
Tennessee, Morgan’s “intended” jokes
about LGBTQ people were instead insulting jabs. My son [had]
“better talk to me like a man and not in a gay voice or
I’ll pull out a knife and stab that little n-gger to death,”
Morgan told his audience.
Like Hardaway, Morgan
has publicly expressed his mea culpas. Morgan’s was to the
Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), the
nation’s LGBTQ media advocacy and anti-defamation organization
- as part and parcel of his forgiveness tour - speaking
out in support of LGBTQ equality.
Back in the day, racism
was addressed through sports, as when Jackie Robinson became
the first black Major League Baseball player in 1947.
Today’s society awards
celebrity status to professional athletes of all races,
and the popularity of African-American athletes has reached
unprecedented levels; their influences go far beyond the
court and field.
So, do these athletes
like Hardaway have a responsibility to their fans, especially
black ones, and society?
Hardaway’s homophobia
is shaped by a particular type of black masculinity that
no longer has to break through this country’s color barrier
to represent the race and prove athletic prowess or manhood
in sports.
The aggressive posturing
and repudiation of LGBTQ people allows athletes like Hardaway
to feel safe in the locker room by maintaining the myth
that all the guys gathered on their team are heterosexual,
and sexual attraction among them just does not exist.
“I don’t think he should
be in the locker room while we are in the locker room,”
Hardaway said during that Miami interview. “If you have 12 other ballplayers in your locker room
that’s upset and can’t concentrate and always worried about
him in the locker room or on the court or whatever, it’s
going to be hard for your teammates to win and accept him
as a teammate.”
This myth allows homophobic
men like Hardaway to enjoy the homo-social setting of the
male locker room that creates male-bonding - and the physical
and emotional intimacy that goes on among them displayed
as slaps on the buttocks, hugging, and kissing on the cheeks
in a homoerotic context - while such behavior outside the
locker would easily be labeled as gay.
In his book, Amaechi
states, “The NBA locker room was the most flamboyant place
I’ve ever been. Guys flaunted their perfect bodies. They
bragged about sexual exploits. They primped in front of
the mirror, applying cologne and hair gel by the bucketful.
They tried on each other’s $10,000 suits, admired each other’s
rings and necklaces. It was an intense camaraderie that
felt completely natural to them.”
In August, Sports
Illustrated writer Dave Zirin caught up with Amaechi
to get his take on Hardaway’s turn around.
“I was in contact with
the people he did his ‘emergency rehab’ with after his ‘I
hate gay people rant.’ They were underwhelmed to say the
least. Back then his contrition seemed more to do with the
financial and reputation hit he had taken in the aftermath.
However, it seems to me that this is a far more genuine
piece of outreach ... I hope this is a story of true redemption
rather than a savvy p.r. ploy. Either way, he is at least
saying the right words, and that will make a positive difference.,”
Amaechi told Zirin.
But as we know, a change
of words does not necessary bring about a change of heart.
BlackCommentator.com
Editorial Board member, the Rev. Irene Monroe, is a religion
columnist, theologian, and public speaker. She is the Coordinator of
the African-American Roundtable of the Center for Lesbian and
Gay Studies in Religion and Ministry (CLGS) at the Pacific
School of Religion.
A native of Brooklyn,
Rev. Monroe is a graduate from Wellesley College and Union
Theological Seminary at Columbia University, and served
as a pastor at an African-American church before coming
to Harvard Divinity School for her doctorate as a Ford Fellow.
She was recently named to MSNBC’s list of 10 Black Women You Should Know. Reverend Monroe is the author
of Let Your Light Shine Like a Rainbow Always: Meditations on Bible
Prayers for Not’So’Everyday Moments. As an African-American
feminist theologian, she speaks for a sector of society
that is frequently invisible. Her website
is irenemonroe.com.
Click here
to contact the Rev. Monroe.
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