Opinions
Activism, the black athlete and supporting LGBT equality
Ali’s legacy and why Kaepernick’s critics are wrong

Why do we praise Muhammad Ali, yet criticize Colin Kaepernick? (Photo by Mike Morbeck; courtesy Flickr)
Why do so many African-American professional athletes today view Muhammad Ali as a hero, but fall short of even trying to live by the same code of ethics that made him a hero? Ali became a hero because he was never silent. He said things he knew would make people uncomfortable, even angry, but that he believed would help bring about awareness and change. Ali was, as a result, a controversial figure during his life. He angered countless people with his message and many people hated him. It was only later that Ali was recognized for his impact on our country.
I remember that once as a boy I heard Ali call himself “pretty” on TV. This was before Beyoncé made big booties sexy, before girls were pumping their lips full of fillers. This was the 1970s. “Black” features were not considered pretty. I remember how powerful it was to see a man who looked like me categorize himself that way. I was nine years old, and I have never forgotten that moment. It was a small moment, but one that empowered me to feel good about myself. That is the power we possess as professional athletes: We have a platform to speak, and a way to give voice to so many voices that remain unheard. We have the ability, and I believe, the responsibility, to serve as a voice that will empower and engage others. But that platform, and the power it gives us, is an opportunity too many of us ignore.
When I started writing this piece, my intention was to draw attention to Black athletes who admire Ali for his activism, but remain silent as injustices continue to reveal the persistent inequity in this country. More specifically, I wanted to center that discussion on the fact that African-American heterosexual males have remained noticeably absent in the fight for equal rights for the LGBTQ community, being that we are all too familiar with what it feels like to be a disenfranchised and discriminated against minority. Before I finished the piece, however, I saw San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick sit down for the national anthem — and I saw America stand up in protest. When asked why he didn’t stand, Kaepernick said he was “not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses Black people and people of color.”
The way Kaepernick took a stand was exactly the type of activism I wanted to see among today’s Black athletes, but before I had time to applaud him, the media crucified him. Worse yet, it wasn’t just the mainstream media that was speaking out. Even fellow Black athletes were speaking out against him. It was bad enough that so many Black athletes were willing to be silent and let others stand up for our people, but now some were actually chastising him for standing up for us. Kaepernick wanted dialogue, but instead he got told that he had crossed a line. He wanted to spark conversation, but instead he was told to be quiet. In fact, he was told to be grateful.
Ironically, one of the criticisms of Kaepernick came in the form of an argument that Kaepernick was not in a position to stand up for Black people because he was not Black. Forgetting about the fact that Kaepernick is in fact half Black, that position itself is nonsensical. If he were white, would it be wrong for him to stand up for Black people? Does that mean that white people cannot defend the rights of Blacks or other minority groups? That straight people cannot defend the rights of the LGBTQ community? Historically, no minority group has ever gained the equal rights they sought without the support of the majority.
And it’s true that Kaepernick does not necessarily feel the impact of racism or injustice day to day ⎯ he is not part of the disenfranchised Black community he is fighting to protect. The Civil Rights leaders of the 1950s, such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, were standing up for their own rights along with the rights of the Black community ⎯ King couldn’t sit at the front of the bus either. Kaepernick is educated, and has a multi-million dollar contract as a quarterback in the NFL. But in my mind that makes his action even more powerful, not less. His silent protest was not driven by self-interest. He chose to speak for those who don’t have a voice. As he put it, “This country stands for freedom, liberty, justice for all ⎯ and it’s not happening for all right now.” That was reason enough for him to take action, despite any repercussion he might face. That is what makes him a leader.
So why are so few athletes willing to stand up — or, in Kaepernick’s case, sit down? Many people do not realize that if a player has made it to the NFL, he has been playing since he was a child. From that time, he has been systematically trained to aspire to be in the NFL. Once a player makes it to the league, his impulse is, one, to fall in line, to do nothing that might jeopardize his team, a sacred brotherhood. Two, not to do anything to jeopardize his salary or endorsements. More than half of the players in the NFL come from poverty. For more than half the players in the league, football is the only way they see to take care of themselves and their families.
But the impulse and pressure to fall in line is what keeps so many players from standing up the way Kaepernick has — and keeps so many players silent when they could be voices of change. The unfortunate truth is that their fears are not unfounded. Broncos linebacker Brandon Marshall, who has chosen to take a knee for the anthem in light of Kaepernick’s protest, has already lost two endorsements as a result of his actions. While too many of us still sit on the sidelines in the fight for justice, I am heartened that Kaepernick’s activism has begun to gain momentum: more athletes take a knee, raise their firsts, link arms in support of him and his message. Even 49ers owner Jed York came out in full support of Kaepernick. Despite sacrificing two endorsements, Marshall remains steadfast in his commitment to the protest, and the conversation he hopes it will inspire.
I would love to see this momentum continue to build and have more professional Black athletes stand up publically for the larger Black community. But what I would also love to see is that activism stretch beyond the reach of our own people and begin to try to help yet another marginalized group, the LGBTQ community.
There is an unmistakable power balance in this country, and we all know who wields that power. That being said, within the other groups that comprise our nation, there does exist a hierarchy of power. That hierarchy is what gave Kaepernick the opportunity to stand up for his beliefs in a way that a lot of other Black men never could. It is also what allowed the entire football team and the entire student body at University of Missouri to stand up for Michael Sam, and allow him to live his life openly as a gay man (which, by the way allowed him to play the best season of his entire collegiate career). And, two years later allowed the Missouri football team to stand together as a team against the racial discrimination that was occurring on their campus and boycott playing a single game until they got a public apology from the president of the university. Regardless of our race, as athletes, we do in fact wield power. The power to raise our voices for change is in our hands, but I see so much silence.
The LGBTQ community is another minority community in our country that is still fighting to be truly equal under the laws of our nation. And while I am by no means saying that the Black fight for equality is over, what I am saying is that there are many Black people in this country, such as professional athletes, that do in fact have a tremendous platform with which they can show support for the LBGTQ community. We have power to not only help ourselves, but to help another group who seeks fairness and equity.
If more professional athletes stood up for the LGBTQ community the same way Muhammad Ali and Colin Kaepernick did and the way others are beginning to do, think of the impact and the power that would have on the LGBTQ community and their fight for equality. Think about what would happen if two of my favorite athletes ⎯ Michael Jordan and LeBron James — went to Nike and said they wanted to film a PSA because they had a family member or close friend who is gay and wanted to publicly show their support. Because let’s face it, we all have at least one family member or close friend that is a part of the LGBTQ community. But instead we allow ourselves to be told by the corporations what we can and cannot do. Why can’t we realize that we have just as much if not more power than the students at University of Missouri? If we stand together on the right side of history, then the power is ours. We need to be on the front line of history, not wait until it is cool to be in support of something that is not allowing friends and family members to feel safe and live their life to fullest.
In our community there is still a widespread fear that being an advocate for, or even just an ally of the LGBTQ community will call into question our own sexuality or masculinity as straight Black men. The base level of this fear is straight forward (albeit based on a false assumption) that supporting the LGBTQ community will lead people to think that we are gay or less of a man. As a result, many of us would rather say nothing than do something that would lead others to have that perception of us. There is also a financial fear associated with being a straight ally. That fear being that if people think that we are homosexual or an ally to the LGBTQ community, it will have a detrimental effect our brand, and in turn, our wallet.
I also want to address the argument that religious people cannot support the LGBTQ community due to the teachings of the Bible. First of all, I would like to remind all of my Black brothers and sisters that it was not too long ago that people used verses from the Bible to back up arguments to keep slavery legal. We, as African Americans cannot in good faith use the same teachings that were used to oppress us to suppress the rights of another group of people. Second, I would love someone to tell me when the laws in the Bible got ranked. In other words, what divine power came down and told us that the teachings that prohibit homosexuality are more important than the teachings that tell us to “love your neighbor as yourself?”
We must begin to the dispel the ideas held by so many straight Black men that being an ally to the LGBTQ community will hurt them in some way. In order to do this, there are two major revelations to which these athletes must come. The first is that the stereotypes they grew up hearing are antiquated and untrue. We must all be a part of eliminating these stereotypes, and we can do that simply by letting our words and our actions defy them. The second is that becoming a straight ally for the LGBTQ community will actually broaden their brand and appeal. The LGBTQ community accounts for more than $9 billion of buying power in this country. When Michael Sam came out as a gay man, his jersey shot straight to the No. 2 most purchased NFL jersey in the country. When Steve Jobs died, Tim Cook took over as CEO of Apple, and has subsequently come out as a gay man. We all still walk around with our iPhones tight in our clutches, but how many of us stop to think about the fact that the company that makes them — one of the most powerful companies in the country — is run by an openly gay man?
Muhammad Ali has, in the wake of his death, been mourned and celebrated in the media as an athlete who transcended sport and became an icon of activism and social justice. However, the same people who praise Ali for his activism and commitment to social justice can, almost in the same breath, condemn Colin Kaepernick for attempting to use his platform as an athlete to do the same. Ali paved the way for athletes like Kaepernick to speak out. If we celebrate Ali for creating the path, then how can we disapprove of athletes like Kaepernick for walking it?
It is time Black athletes realize our power and responsibility to bring change in America — and it is time for America to stop fearing what the change will look like. We must say and do the things that will spark conversation about important issues that we face because conversation is the first step toward resolution.
If we cannot speak about the issues, how can we hope to resolve them? More specifically, we, as heterosexual Black men with a voice need to get on the right side of history in the fight for LGBTQ equality. It is our responsibility to stand up for the underdog, the discriminated against, because we have been and still are discriminated against. We must stand up for communities other than our own just as we want others to stand up for us. We must be upstanders and not bystanders, we must stand up and use our voice for change, acknowledging that no group of human beings deserves to be treated as inferior.
We must applaud Kaeperrnick for his actions by acknowledging that great leaders have the strength and conviction to never mistake the easy choice for the right one. But applauding him is not enough. We must accept that once we identify a great leader such as him, we must have enough of our own strength and conviction to follow him.
Sean James is executive director of Sports & Entertainment for Hotaling Group Insurance Services and a former NFL player.
Opinions
Dual endorsement for Independent Council-at-large: Patterson or Crawford
Let’s move the District forward
(Editor’s note: This column reflects the writer’s opinion and does not constitute a Washington Blade endorsement of any candidate.)
The race for Independent Council-at-Large is interesting. There are three main candidates and I suggest making your choice easier by first eliminating Elissa Silverman from consideration. She is a retread, and it is time to move forward, not backward.
There are two candidates whom I have taken the time to talk with in some depth. They are both impressive, and either will make a great addition to the D.C. Council. I have some minor issues with both, but then have never found a candidate who I would agree with 100%, and never expect to.
Jacque Patterson has held public office, and served the community well, as president of the D.C. State Board of Education. Just recently a study was released, and while we know there are many outstanding issues in our schools, this new Education Scorecard report from Harvard, Stanford, and Dartmouth, ranks District of Columbia students first in the nation for academic growth in both math and reading between 2022 and 2025. While they are still not doing as well as we want all our students to do, progress is important, and this scorecard shows how the District is working to help its students. Take a look at Jacque’s website to see what he will focus on. You will find it impressive. He understands among other issues what small businesses mean to D.C., what we need to do for safer communities, and to provide more opportunities for all our youth.
Then take a look at Doni Crawford who has now been serving on the Council for about four months, having been chosen to replace Kenyan McDuffie until the election, when he resigned to run for mayor. She previously worked in his office as committee director for the Council’s Committee on Business and Economic Development. Prior to that she worked at the D.C. Fiscal Policy Institute. Her focus is also on safer communities, economic development, housing, and youth. You can look at Doni’s website to get a more detailed understanding of where she intends to focus her time.
Both candidates have talked about how they will work to fight for D.C. statehood, and to ensure the 700,000 residents of the District can set their own budget priorities, and make their own legislative decisions, without oversight from Congress.
When looking at who you choose to vote for as a Council member in D.C., it is important to understand the person you select will be working closely with 12 other members. They have to understand the art of compromise to get their initiatives passed. They must have the personality that will demand respect of the other members, and a style that will make them stand out on the Council. I think Jacque and Doni are the two choices in this Independent Council-at-large race who will be able to do that. Also, remember in an at-large seat on the Council the focus is a little different than when you are selecting a Council member for your own ward. These members need to have a little broader view, and be able to balance all constituents in every ward of the city. That is a little more difficult.
I know from talking with them that both Jacque and Doni are committed to equality, and just as important, economic equality. They understand for the District to do well; everyone needs a fair playing field. I have gotten the strong feeling they both understand what is happening around the nation is impacting the people of D.C. That includes the resurgence of antisemitism, as well as racism, Islamophobia, homophobia, and sexism. They understand we are faced with a White House, and Republican-controlled Congress, who instead of doing anything to combat these issues, are making them worse. And because home rule still gives Congress and the felon in the White House much-too-much control over D.C., this impacts us directly. I have confidence in both Patterson and Crawford, that they will fight this, and do it intelligently, and successfully, to the benefit of all the people they are looking to serve.
So, my recommendation is you look at both their websites and decide who your first choice will be. Then rank that person #1 on your ballot for Independent Council-at-large. Then because you can with ranked choice voting, rank the other one #2. Then stop! You don’t need to rank any more.
Again, I think either Jacque Patterson or Doni Crawford will serve us well on the Council. They are both smart, experienced, and both will bring something new to the Council. Elissa Silverman had her chance before, and there were reasons the voters turned her out. Let’s not go backwards, but rather let’s move the District forward, with either Jacque Patterson or Doni Crawford.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Opinions
What I learned from Barney Frank and a bit of queer history
Gay former Mass. congressman died May 19
Since I started my activist career at the early age of 25, I feel incredibly blessed to have learned so much from many of the legends of our movement, including from Congressman Barney Frank. When I was just beginning OutRight International (then the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission), Herb Moses, Barney Frank’s long-term partner prior to his husband Jim Ready, was on our initial board of directors in the early 1990s. Through Herb, I became friends with Barney, and would regularly stay in their guest bedroom on Corcoran Street when I came to Washington for work. We would go out to dinner at their favorite chinese restaurants and Barney would give me advocacy advice, in his tough-love style, which as a similarly argumentative Jew, signified love and respect to me.
Together, we organized a trip to Russia in 1992 for a group of individual donors that included Fred Hochberg (years prior to becoming our nation’s president of the Export-Import Bank), Andy Tobias (before his DNC Treasurer years), Terry Watanabe (one of few major donors to the queer movement at the time), and Vic Basile (who then ran the Victory Fund). Barney was able to get high level meetings with Russian officials that we could never have gotten without him, including conversations with their Ministry of Justice about the infamous Article 121 of their penal code at the time, which actively penalized private gay sex acts. A year later, that law was removed, and consequently most of the copy-cat versions in the other former Soviet countries were written out as well. While Barney organized a reception for our group at the U.S. ambassador’s residence in Moscow, I organized visits to the local prisons to meet with gay prisoners. It was a crazy time and made for some incredible stories, as well as some important lessons from Barney Frank.
Lesson #1: be precise and have proof
Barney was always following up with hard questions of the activists I would bring into his office, exacting concrete proof of the claims of persecution we were trying to expose. His precision sometimes felt like a challenge to the truth of the matter, but it made me a much better human rights activist in those early days. He pushed me to work with more rigor, that helped me to articulate better why the experiences of LGBTQ people around the world are important to share with policy makers and with our own community.
Lesson #2: read more
On the plane to Russia, Barney showed up with a duffle bag full of newspapers and periodicals that he hadn’t finished reading. He hated small talk, and spent the entire flight catching up on his reading. Even though we now have internet access on planes, my take-away was to always stay current and read!
Barney cared a lot about U.S. immigration issues, and together, we opened up the U.S. asylum system to LGBTQ individuals who have a credible fear of persecution on the basis of their “membership in the particular social group” (although at the time, we only called it sexual orientation). This category is one of five legal reasons the United States is obligated to provide asylum. We focused on then-Attorney General Janet Reno and asked her to elevate the case of Marcelo Tenorio from Brazil, who was persecuted for being gay, and whose case IGLHRC had helped to document and win a year earlier, as part of an asylum project that supported immigration attorneys with documentation from around the world (remember, pre-internet!). In June of 1994, Attorney General Reno issued a binding memo elevating that case to a precedent-setting one, and from that moment on “membership in a particular social group” for asylum seekers included queer people in the United States. That milestone paved the way for tens of thousands of LGBTQ asylum seekers to flee persecution and begin safer lives in the U.S. A legal milestone that is now under attack.
Lesson #3: thank your champions
A week after Reno issued her official Attorney General Order, I was on the phone with Barney and he asked me if I had sent my thank you letter to her yet. I had to admit that I hadn’t. An unforgettable cringe moment for me. I was quick to write my protest letters out in those pre-internet days. But didn’t yet understand the importance of writing thank-you notes to our political targets (or allies), when they actually do the things we ask them to do!
Barney served on our International Advisory Board, together with over 30 other amazing leaders from around the world, including Harry Hay, the founder of the Radical Faeries. They couldn’t have been two more different types of gay men. But I took them both to Russia and earned their respect. In a complicated moment in our movement’s history, I was a spokesperson for the International Lesbian and Gay Association (ILGA), an international membership group for queer organizations around the world, and the only other major organization at the time that was working around the world. ILGA had submitted a controversial application to become an official observer to the UN as a non-governmental organization. The truth was, that ILGA — as a broad membership organization had actual pedophile organizations in the membership at the time. Since OutRight (then IGLHRC) was the “action secretariat” for ILGA, I spearheaded the campaign to create membership criteria that would eliminate NAMBLA and the other two similar Dutch groups that refused to distinguish between a two-year old and a 16-year old. Together with our then board members Judith Butler and Alex Chasin, we carefully crafted a nuanced position for OutRight that affirmed the rights of children to explore their sexuality, while opposing abuse of power and sexual exploitation by adults. We lost both Barney and Harry over that statement, and I had to take those difficult calls.
Lesson #4: don’t get defeated by rejection
While Barney explained to me that he could not be associated with any position or organization that was in any way connected to the issue of pedophelia, he didn’t reject me personally or the work of the organization. He just needed to have his name removed from our advisory board. I was still crushed, but didn’t let it stop me from pursuing a more nuanced distinction between consensual sex and exploitation (such as elevating the Dutch model of allowing for consent within two years of each partner within those complicated years around emancipation, rather than an unfair system that can charge rape to an 18-year-old who is in a sexual relationship with a 17-year-old, for example.
Lesson #5: pragmatism with principle
I started OutRight at the age of 25. I remember Barney saying to me over dinner one night in 1992 that I could do well in DC if I wanted to come and work on the Hill. He was complementing my willingness to find concrete, incremental steps towards equality, while understanding my deep passion for justice and full equality. I, on the other hand, was passionate about building the organization and making LGBTQ and HIV issues part of the larger human rights movement. But I held onto that complement for a long time, and it guided my work for many years.
As much as I appreciated his compliment at the time, and have had an amazing career making incremental change, today, I fear that the age of “incrementalism” is over in the United States. Despite Barney’s last book and his final effort to hold onto a liberal institutionalist hope for our democracy, this moment calls on progressives to radically remake this unfair system. It’s not our time to retreat or rally behind Democrats who will not stand for much, much better. It’s our time to boldly envision, name, and work for the better country and world we so urgently need. We can argue over whether or not Barney was politically pragmatic or sold out the trans community back in 2007, when he removed gender identity in the draft legislation in order to get it passed the House. It caused a major split in the community’s support for the bill and he put it back in the legislation two years later, when it didn’t pass. Congress to this very day has never passed basic non-discrimination protections based on sexual orientation or gender identity. As Congressman Frank departs this world, I believe it is time for Urvashi Vaid’s vision of the world, another monumental advocate who we lost last year. Her vision was one of a more interconnected emancipation of all of our country’s citizens, not one identity group at a time. As we regress this quickly into authoritarianism, what do we have to lose by demanding the whole vision of liberation?
The last time I saw Barney, it was a few years back and he was signing books at a local LGBT event in San Francisco. He seemed so genuinely happy to see me and greeted me with a big hug. As we reflect and pay tribute upon his passing, I feel so grateful to have had my early leadership years mentored by the incomparable Congressman Barney Frank.
Julie Dorf is the co-chair of the Council for Global Equality.
Opinions
Why this Black Pride, I ranked Janeese Lewis George #1 for D.C. mayor
Compliance is not a strategy for defending D.C.
Washington, D.C. is at a crossroads. In uncertain moments, voters are encouraged to lower expectations, choose familiarity over vision, and look for leaders who seem most willing to accommodate hostile federal power. That approach misunderstands this moment and what leadership requires.
I ranked Janeese Lewis George #1 for mayor.
As a Black gay man whose career has moved through law, policy, media, and movement work and has called D.C. home for 15 years, I have seen the difference between performative allyship and meaningful action. Too often, politicians treat LGBTQ communities as symbolic talking points. They show up for Pride, issue polished statements, and expect support without taking risks that improve our lives. Our vote should be earned through policy, consistency, relationships, and accountability.
That is one of the many reasons I trust Janeese.
A recent Blade column tried to define Janeese through guilt-by-association politics, treating a passing association with someone else’s comments as proof of her values. I wholly reject that framing.
Coalition-building in a city as politically diverse and socially complex as D.C. will never be perfect. Anyone who has organized, legislated, or advocated understands that progress requires engaging people whose views or approaches may not align at every moment. The fair standard is a candidate’s values, priorities, judgment, and record.
Janeese’s record clears that standard. GLAA gave her a 10 out of 10, its highest possible rating. Capital Stonewall Democrats, the largest LGBTQ political organization in D.C., endorsed her by an overwhelming margin. Her platform shows a candidate who understands that LGBTQ safety depends on the ability to stay housed, access healthcare, protect bodily autonomy, and defend D.C.’s power to govern itself.
For a Black trans woman fighting eviction, safety starts with a lease she can keep. For a family with two dads choosing between medicine and a utility bill, freedom starts with a city willing to lower costs and stand up to greedy utility companies like Pepco and Washington Gas. For residents bounced between agencies, dignity starts with a government that can get help to people before crisis deepens.
Janeese’s campaign speaks to those conditions. She is running on tenant protections, affordable homes, lower utility costs, and a public safety plan that recognizes a problem residents already understand: D.C. has resources, yet too many people still get passed from agency to agency while their situation gets worse. She has also committed to rescinding the MPD order allowing local police to work with ICE.
The above-mentioned Blade column spends little time on those stakes. Its energy goes toward attacking Janeese’s endorsers and casting suspicion on her people-first politics. The writer has previously said he becomes wary when the Working Families Party endorses a candidate because he sees the party as anti-business. That critique reveals anxiety about a candidate challenging the corporation-friendly consensus that has made D.C. harder for working people to survive in. Yet it doesn’t speak to the many workers of those businesses who support a mayoral candidate like Janeese.
This election is also about how D.C. responds to Trump and federal overreach. Trump is not our mayor. The people of Washington, D.C. are. The argument that D.C. needs someone who can comfortably work with Trump sounds like preemptive surrender. There is little evidence that electing a more cautious Democrat would produce a respectful relationship with a president who has repeatedly treated D.C. residents as politically expendable.
D.C. needs a mayor willing to advocate for residents, defend the city’s interests, and resist attempts to bully or diminish the people who live here. Effective leadership requires negotiation. Negotiation from fear gives away power before the fight begins. Compliance is not a strategy for defending D.C.
Further, an ethics complaint against Janeese came with its own political baggage. City Paper reported that the nonprofit behind the complaint and investigation has a board member connected to a research firm her opponent’s campaign paid $20,000. Voters should weigh that connection against Janeese’s record and the LGBTQ organizations that have already vetted her.
This election will decide which communities are prioritized in D.C.’s future: working-class residents trying to stay in the city, or out-of-state elites treating D.C. like an investment portfolio. Black LGBTQ leadership carries responsibility here. Our communities know what it means to be praised in public and abandoned in budgets. We know the difference between symbolic allyship and policy that changes conditions.
I am ranking Janeese Lewis George #1 because, in this critical moment where inspiration is needed, Janeese is offering the kind of mayoral leadership D.C. needs. Black LGBTQ Washingtonians deserve a city we can afford, a government that works for people’s best interests, and leaders who will defend us.
Preston D. Mitchum is a D.C.-based policy consultant, attorney-activist, and television personality whose work focuses on the intersections of racial justice, democracy reform, health and gender equity, and LGBTQ+ rights.
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