I am a race hustler. Or at least, that’s what they call me here in the South. I’m that white chic that idolizes Dr. King, worships Nelson Mandela, and reminds you every time you yell “Roll Tide!” while waving a Confederate flag in my face that you’d better take a look at who it is running your ball and rapping your lyrics there, Jethro, and remove yourself on to a less ethnic sport in pursuit of your cause. I’d suggest golf. Perhaps hockey.
I’m also that chic that will respond to your response that “you need a history lesson,” that just because you read something on the back of a Alvin’s Island tshirt on Spring Break in Panama City Beach, doesn’t mean that your “history” is accurate. Though it does impress me that you can recollect, let alone verbally regurgitate, any such sentiment — regardless of how false — given the complexity of the comprehension struggles one must be afflicted with in order to be proud of such a treasonous, distasteful, blatantly obvious hate symbol. But God bless your heart.
I’m also that girl who responds to the dimwitted never-ending abuse online that’s hurled in sentences like, “Oh, just go marry a black man, n***** lover!” with, “If you can get Matt Kemp to call me, I’ll get right on that, homeslice!”
Or that there ain’t a white girl in the world that wouldn’t marry Eddie George and if a white woman says otherwise she’s lying for the sake of the racist white man in her life. So congratulations on being that guy.
So, that’s me.
So it’s no surprise that I know Shaun King, loved Shaun King, and was a huge Shaun King supporter. When the “he’s white!” scandal broke by the racially tinged, let’s call ourselves “journalists,” Breitbart, my response to “Shaun King is white!” was that I didn’t know Shaun King was supposed to be black.
Truly. I just assumed he was like me and Jerry Macquire. You know, he loved black people. Unlike me,.I did know Mr King had an African American spouse and bi-racial children, but his color, or its implications, never dawned on me. But when I read his story and that of classmates, I thought, he’s black if he says he’s black. Deciding your ethnicity is not my deal. So, I find those who use the Shaun King race “scandal” to discredit King as ridiculous as I find his writing his recent hit piece.
I’m also a 100% Cam Newton supporter. The only girl I know in Middle Tennessee who ordered herself a Cam Newton back pack back when Cam Newton still wasn’t even winning. He’s been my McNair-in-training since Game 1 of his Auburn season and there is no bigger testament to that than the Alabama fans in my life. I absolutely believe the hate directed at Cam is almost unprecedented and I truly believe a large portion of it is racially motivated. NOBODY can out you “I have black friends!” racists (who very audibly deny that you’re racist) quite like a fellow southern dwelling white girl who knows exactly what you all say when there aren’t any black folks around. And you all say a lot of really messed up racially charged nonsense.
Hence the title of the book I’m working on ‘Jesus Was Not a White Man, and Stop Telling Me You Have Black Friends.’ A southern girl’s look at saying what nobody else will. I’m sure it will be well received. Turn me into the only Miss Congeniality, thrice-elected (when DCHS held 3 grades) class officer, former Most Dependable, Best All Around, Student body vote elected cheerleader to come out of Dickson County School Systems whose family would have to rent pall bearers when they die just to bury them in my lot at Memorial Gardens. Ha!
While these same classmates are screaming “I’m not a racist!” and social media bullying me the second I stepped out as a staunch defender of MY president in the Oval Office and clapped back at their historically inaccurate love of a homegrown terrorism symbol, they proved how much a group of “non-racists” reeeeeally hate white people exposing racism.
But I’m sure it’s all just a coincidence. Your real problem with me is NOT my words, it’s just that I’m really an unlikable bitch.
We’ll go with that.
Soooo, I loooove Cam Newton. I liked Shaun King. But I adore Peyton Manning. Revere Peyton Manning like he reveres football, plan on naming one of my future adopted children Manning (Manny!) Mathis to ensure he ends up hitting or throwing some type of ball, LOVE Mr. Peyton Williams Manning. And what Shaun King did was not only legally ill-interpreted and irresponsible, it was wrong. And Shaun King is completely evading the truth that in order to ward off attacks on one quarterback, he virtually assaulted another. And twisted up legal documents to do so. As someone who understands more than you could possibly know that one in four women are sexually assaulted before leaving college campus and that only 10% of them are reported, I also know that that 10% can’t, statistically, have all been perpetrated by Division One athletes. Which is why I am a loud advocate for sexual assault victims at the same time I don’t believe Jameis Winston raped a girl just because a white chic claims he did. In fact, I’ve got roughly 18 hours of research invested in that one rape allegation that gives me complete confidence to say this: Jameis Winston is an overgrown idiot, but I don’t believe Jameis Winston assaulted anybody other than Auburn’s secondary in that second half air attack during the 2012 National Championship game. He just didn’t. The settlement on behalf of Florida State infuriated me, so it was no surprise others followed suit. The atrocity and sickening violence that happened at Vanderbilt does not mean that all campus rapes — or the onset of those being reported — were all committed by kids who play ball. False rape accounts for less than 1% of reporting. But that’s dealing with regular, PD reported, Joe Citizen attacked me, let’s go to court rape. When an allegation alone is enough to jeopardize a career, suspend a dream, or penalize something a kid has worked his entire life for, don’t tell me that a young man couldn’t find himself victimized too. Treon Harris comes to mind.
Because of this, because of my belief that facts should dictate judgment — unlike Clay Travis who says this same thing, but seems to invent his own interpretation of “facts” or ignore the glaringly obvious ones when the alleged suspect is a black man — I have done my homework on both the Manning allegation and his accuser. A litigation happy, surgically enhanced to mirror Dolly Parton, but OmG! I can’t believe these young boys are looking at my breasts, monetary seeking habitually dishonest trouble maker. None of this was hidden. None of this was new. And the conversation we need to be having on race –or on race in sports, or even sexual assault committed by athletes — was neither the one perpetuated by Shaun King or Clay Travis’ rebuttal.
I stand with victims. I stand with women. I stand with black people. Without question. But I also believe on judging a man based on what you know about him. On what he shows you, repeatedly. In times of triumph, in times of defeat. Cam Newton may be immature when hurt, but Cam Newton has a child’s heart — and if immaturity is the price to pay for genuine joy, I’ll take it. And Peyton Manning is in a elite, almost untouchable category of integrity, restraint, conviction, preparation and perseverance. Women are better for having watched a man like Peyton. Because we saw the way gentlemen respond and behave. For almost two decades.
I resent the character attacks on a man who has spent twenty years showing us who he is. We’ve seen it, we’ve believed it, and we’re grateful for it. And as a “I love black people!” screaming, Cam Newton watching, and yes, Ray Lewis loving (can’t help it) white girl, I resent the insinuation that a man who has earned our trust — as I as don’t give mine lightly — and our respect, was only the recipient of such because he’s white.
I’m standing here screaming that my quarterbacks , Cam Newton and Peyton Manning, both deserve kindness and appreciation, and I believe NEITHER Peyton Manning or Jameis Winston sexually assaulted anyone. (But I’m pretty sure Big Ben is guilty, now!) Because that’s the world I see upon investigation.
Bad on you, Mr. King. Just bad.
And thank you, Peyton. From the bottom of my BIG ORANGE heart, thank you. I have loved every minute of it.