Opinions
The uncomfortable ride to progress
Understanding privilege and diversity in a changing culture
(Photo public domain)
What if I told you that a train was pulling into the station that would take you to a destination that possessed all the resources you needed to be wealthy, to find true love, to live a long and fulfilling life⎯you’d run to make that train wouldn’t you? But what If I also told you that the ride was long, you would not have a seat, the cars were hot and crowded, there would be no food or drink, etc. ⎯would you still get on? Would you stay the course to reap the reward at the end? In other words, how uncomfortable of a ride would you be willing to endure in order to reach a better destination?
Athletes learn very early in their careers that most of their days will be filled with doing things that make them uncomfortable. But they adapt, and get comfortable with the idea of being uncomfortable. They are called upon to confront issues beyond the scope of sports, and learn to stand by their actions and very publically live their truth.
Most members of society never face that type of scrutiny. They form opinions, and very often compartmentalize their views and beliefs in ways that are comfortable, and often contradictory. Many share these opinions on social media, but beyond Facebook posts or Tweets, how are we actually held accountable for what we believe, or the consequences for acting on those beliefs?
The problem is that we have become a society that fights for our own, and if a particular fight doesn’t directly impact us, we do not think to fight it. If I am a wealthy woman on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, why bother caring about what happened in Ferguson, Missouri? If I am a straight man in corporate America, why should I expend my time and resources to help the LGBTQ community?
This mindset is what has led to the terms “privilege” and “entitlement” being thrown around so much these days. If you want to know the meaning of privilege, I would say that if you possess the rights that you would expect to have in a democracy, then you have privilege. Don’t get me wrong; I believe that there is no shame in having privilege — you are either born with it or you’re not. However, if you take your privilege for granted, and become complacent in your own comfort, doing nothing to help those without it, that is when you become entitled.
I believe that sports are yet another glaring example of our entitlement. The sports industry is one of the most profitable and powerful in this country. Sports have always been a way to engage and unite people, but to what end? As a player, when you are offered a scholarship or contract, you develop a sense of loyalty to your teammates, your university, the city you play for ⎯ you devote yourself to them. Now undoubtedly, the fans pledge that same loyalty back to your team, but do they pledge it to you? Do they care where you come from, your stance on social issues, what your political affiliations are? Would they support you if you spoke out on an issue that made them uncomfortable? Moreover, are they cheering for their team to win, but supporting laws and societal norms that continue to marginalize the majority of the players that comprise the team?
Let’s look at the universities that make the most money in college sports. The top five grossing universities are Texas A&M ($192.6 million), University of Texas ($183.5 million), Ohio State University ($167.2 million), University of Michigan ($152.5 million), and University of Alabama ($148.9 million). In fact, across the country, if you look at college football alone, $3.5 billion is generated annually by these disproportionally Black teams. I say disproportionally because when you look at the data, you quickly begin to see a pattern. In 2012, only 14 percent of undergraduates were Black. In a 2013 University of Pennsylvania study, a mere 2.8 percent of full-time degree-seeking undergraduates were Black men. Now, let’s have a look at the number of Black players on the football teams. Black men account for an average of 57 percent of college football teams across the country, while at certain universities, that percentage reaches far higher. The 2016-2017 basketball team at the University of Kentucky has a roster that is 80 percent Black. These universities are raking in money from the students on their teams, while these “amateur” players see almost none of it. In fact, many of these players have to scramble to find money for housing, books and food.
Consider how many people attend and watch these games, surrounded by people who look like them, think like them, live like them. This is a culture we created over time, where Black people can entertain our country and people can enjoy the entertainment, but never actually have to interact with them, let alone consider their views or their experiences. So when do we become accountable for our entitlement, and make changes that will begin to unite and engage us beyond the sports arena or entertainment?
As both the idea and the reality of diversity continue to expand in our country, we all need to catch up, or we will get left behind.
So, what if we all started to stand up for diversity — not out of moral obligation, but because we took a look at what it means for the bottom lines of the corporations and teams that we value so dearly. We need to begin to think of diversity as a competitive advantage. Whether we are examining a Fortune 500 company or a Big Ten football team, one constant is that the future lies with a new generation of talent. This is a generation of transparency, of people living their truths, one that sees the spectrum of color, that is comfortable with gender equality. The message of this generation is no longer ‘tolerance’ of diversity but rather, embracing it.
This spring, the Arizona Wildcats became the first NCAA football team to grant a scholarship to an openly gay football player. In fact, when My-King Johnson⎯a 6’4”, 225 pound high school player with a 3.8 GPA⎯ told his recruiter, Wildcat’s defensive line coach and former NFL player, Vince Amey that he was gay, Amey’s response was simple, “Look, you are who you are, I am who I am, and I’m going to coach you the same way. I’m going to treat you the same way…You do what you do…When the players find out, especially my room, I’m going to tell (those) dudes: “look, you gotta have his back.” ‘ “ I applaud Amey and the Wildcats for making a decision to recruit Johnson. However, I am still disheartened that his sexual preference remains a factor in the decision at all. But we must begin somewhere.
We have entered into a period of time where people want to prove discrimination does not exist by pretending that they do not see diversity. But I would argue that people do this because they do not want to be made to feel uncomfortable by actually having to confront it.
If you are reading this, and feeling uncomfortable, or maybe thinking that I am discriminating against you ⎯ but still reading ⎯ then first, let me thank you for proving my point, and second, GREAT, you’re on the train — now the ride can begin.
Sean James is executive director of Sports & Entertainment for Pinnacle, and a former NFL player. Follow him on Twitter/ Instagram: seanjames23.
Cuba
When impunity meets history
Raúl Castro indicted for alleged role in shooting down Brothers to the Rescue aircraft
The scene would have seemed impossible only a few years ago.
The name of Raúl Castro Ruz appearing formally inside a United States federal criminal indictment. Cuba’s former general of the Army, for decades one of the most powerful figures inside the Havana regime, accused in connection with the shootdown of the Brothers to the Rescue aircraft and the deaths of American citizens in 1996. And all of it unfolding in Miami, inside the Freedom Tower, on May 20.
That detail matters.
Because this indictment arrives at one of the most fragile and politically tense moments in recent relations between Washington and Havana. It comes as Cuba faces deep economic collapse, growing political exhaustion, mass migration, blackouts, and increasing public frustration both inside and outside the island. It also arrives on a date carrying enormous symbolic weight for Cuban exiles — the anniversary of the founding of the Cuban Republic in 1902.
But the true significance of this moment goes far beyond symbolism.
What happened in Miami represents something much larger: the collapse of the idea that certain men would never face accountability.
For decades, Raúl Castro embodied the permanence of revolutionary power in Cuba. Defense minister. Military strategist. The man who oversaw the armed forces for generations. One of the central architects of the Cuban political and security apparatus built alongside Fidel Castro. A figure many believed would leave this world untouched by any court, shielded forever by power, time, and history itself.
Today the image is very different.
Today his name appears inside the language of American criminal prosecution.
And that changes the historical dimension of this case completely.
Because this is no longer simply a political accusation voiced by the Cuban exile community. It is now a formal federal criminal indictment publicly announced by the United States government against one of the highest-ranking figures in the history of the Cuban regime.
The setting itself carried enormous meaning.
The Freedom Tower is not just another building in Miami. For generations of Cuban exiles it represents memory, displacement, survival, and the beginning of a new life after fleeing Cuba. Thousands of Cubans passed through those doors after escaping the revolution. Families arrived carrying fear, uncertainty, grief, and hope all at once. Announcing these charges from that location transformed the moment into something far deeper than a legal proceeding.
And the people witnessing it were not only members of the exile community.
Among those present were relatives of the young men killed nearly 30 years ago. Families who spent decades waiting to hear words they feared might never come. Families who carried the weight of loss while believing the men responsible would never be formally accused by any court.
That emotional weight still surrounds this case.
On Feb. 24, 1996, two civilian aircraft operated by Brothers to the Rescue were shot down over the Florida Straits by Cuban military jets. Armando Alejandre Jr., Carlos Costa, Mario de la Peña, and Pablo Morales were killed. The flights were connected to humanitarian rescue efforts searching for Cubans attempting to flee the island during the migration crisis of the 1990s.
Those aircraft were not military bombers.
They were not attacking Cuba.
They were civilian planes associated with rescue operations involving Cubans risking their lives at sea.
That reality has always shaped how this tragedy lives inside the memory of the Cuban exile community.
For many, this was never viewed simply as a geopolitical conflict between hostile governments. It was seen as the use of military force against civilians connected to humanitarian missions during one of the darkest chapters in modern Cuban migration history.
But for many Cubans, the indictment reaches far beyond the Brothers to the Rescue case itself.
It touches decades of unresolved pain tied to one of the central figures behind Cuba’s military and political system.
It reaches mothers who buried sons lost in compulsory military service or in distant wars they never chose to fight. Families who spent years believing promises that were never fulfilled. Political prisoners who disappeared into silence. Relatives who watched loved ones die trying to flee the island.
And for many LGBTQ Cubans, the moment carries another layer of historical weight.
Long before official campaigns promoting tolerance and inclusion emerged from within the Cuban government, there were years of persecution, fear, forced silence, and humiliation carried out under the revolutionary system itself.
The UMAP labor camps remain one of the deepest scars in modern Cuban history. Gay men, pastors, religious believers, artists, and others considered incompatible with the revolutionary ideal were sent away under the language of “re-education” and forced labor.
In recent decades, public gestures toward LGBTQ inclusion promoted by figures close to the Cuban leadership attempted to project an image of progress and openness to the international community. But for many survivors, and for many Cuban LGBTQ people, those gestures never erased the trauma or the historical responsibility tied to the same structures of power that once persecuted them.
For many, acknowledgment without accountability still feels painfully incomplete.
That is why this indictment resonates so deeply today.
Because it arrives while Cuba once again faces profound national crisis. The island is losing entire generations through migration. Public frustration continues to grow. Economic collapse shapes daily life. And the revolutionary narrative that once projected permanence and control appears increasingly eroded by reality itself.
Against that backdrop, the image emerging from Miami becomes even more striking.
A man once viewed as untouchable by history now formally accused by the United States government and legally transformed into a fugitive wanted by American justice.
History moves slowly until suddenly it does not.
And for many Cubans, both on the island and throughout the diaspora, what happened today inside the Freedom Tower felt like witnessing something they once believed they would never live long enough to see.
As a Cuban, as an immigrant, and as someone who has lived close to that pain, one thought keeps returning tonight:
Justice takes time.
But when it finally arrives, it arrives with history behind it.
David Trone’s commercials keep telling us what he has done for women. But apparently, he doesn’t trust them to fight for themselves, or he wouldn’t keep spending countless millions to defeat them.
Trone is trying to buy back his seat in Congress, this time running in a primary in Maryland’s 6th District against incumbent Democrat April McClain Delaney. Once again, Maryland voters should say a loud NO to David Trone. He is doing this after spending nearly $60 million trying to buy a United States Senate seat, which he thankfully lost to Angela Alsobrooks, now one of only two Black women in the United States Senate. Clearly, that was a blow to his ego, and now he is trying again to defeat another very competent woman. He has already spent close to $7 million on commercials attacking Delaney, telling us how much money he has spent on what he calls ‘good deeds.’ Delaney is accurately calling him out for working with Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, and donating through his business, nearly $800,000 to Republicans, including MAGA ones. When he was buying his first seat in Congress, the Washington Post reported, “Wine retailer David Trone… has contributed more than $150,000 to Republicans in states across the country since 2000, according to a nonpartisan site that tracks money in politics. Most went to candidates and officeholders in states where he sought legislation or regulatory changes favorable to his company, Total Wine & More. Among the Republicans who received funds were Gov. Greg Abbott and Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick of Texas and North Carolina Gov. Pat McCrory.” The same Pat McCrory who signed anti-LGBTQ legislation and Abbott who wants to close all Planned Parenthood sites in Texas.
I urge voters in Maryland’s 6th, to speak out for, and vote for, April McClain Delaney. Join with me, and a host of others, who have endorsed her as of March 31. They include Sen. Angela Alsobrooks (D-Md.), Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.), Maryland Gov. Wes Moore (D), Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), Rep. Sarah McBride (D-Del.), and every Democrat in the Maryland U.S. House delegation.
McClain Delaney says, “Now, David Trone says I should step aside, so he can have his old office back after he ran for the Senate, lost, and has been sitting on the sidelines. He’s a distraction. This race isn’t about one man’s ego. … And as a member of team Maryland, I forged strong relationships with Governor Moore and the entire federal delegation, as well as with local leaders across the district.” She adds, “On behalf of my district, I stand up to bullies. That’s why I’ll continue to take on Trump’s assault on our government workers, defend our diverse community, protect choice and women’s reproductive rights, and work against inflation-creating tariffs.”
Again, this isn’t the first time Trone spent a fortune trying to get into Congress. It cost him about $25 million, and two tries, to win the first time. Then his ego had him give up the seat he bought to run for the U.S. Senate. Apparently he has unlimited amounts of money to spend and at nearly 72 thinks he needs to get back in by defeating a strong woman nearly 10 years younger, who is doing a great job. He is clearly not needed in Congress.
Trone always made the basis of his campaigns not taking any money from PACs, lobbyists, and big donors. Seems hypocritical considering he thought it was OK to influence others to build his own business. To give Trone credit he always runs on a very liberal platform, which is pro-LGBTQ, pro-women, and pro-equal and human rights for all. But then Democrats like April McClain Delaney, who he is now running against, has the same platform, and is doing a good job for her constituents.
Trone’s commercials are mostly about what he has done for women. But again, he clearly doesn’t trust women to do for themselves. He spent $60 million running against a great woman for U.S. Senate, and now is spending more millions running against another strong woman, trying to reclaim a House seat he gave up. Marylanders, make sure he loses again, by voting for April McClain Delaney for Congress.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Opinions
Skipping Memorial Day crowds in Rehoboth Beach
After 30 years, I’ve become allergic to large gatherings
There are a lot of things about getting older that are great. I love retirement, love the cruises I take, time at my favorite coffee shops, both in D.C. and at the Coffee Mill in Rehoboth. Then there are some not so great things. I have had a few health issues, which luckily, I have fully overcome. Some issues you can do something about, others you can’t. One of the things I have come to realize is, I no longer enjoy big crowds, and this is something I can do something about. Just avoid them.
I have spent every holiday weekend since buying my place in Rehoboth, and that is going on 30 years, at the beach. I go for Christmas and New Year’s, Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend, President’s Day, Memorial Day, and Labor Day. Add a few extra holidays I may be missing like Veterans’ Day, if it falls on a weekend. This is the first year I won’t be there on Memorial Day, and it is by choice. Instead, will be staying in D.C. Some will ask why, and my simple answer is to avoid the crowds. I keep thinking of the crowds last Memorial Day and decided to see how it goes skipping it this year.
Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled for all the businesses at the beach when they are swamped with people. And glad those people who want to be there are having a great time, and don’t mind when the lines to get into Aqua and Diego’s are around the block. Or when my favorite place for coffee, The Coffee Mill, has a line when I get there at 7 a.m. When you can’t get a reservation at the Pines or even Ava’s. But last year it finally occurred to me why I wasn’t having as much fun as I used to, and realized it was because I have become allergic to crowds. So, for the first time this year, I determined I was going to stay away and see how it feels. I may regret it after a few hours at home in D.C., or when seeing friends’ posts on Instagram and Facebook. But am going to take that chance. One thing I do regret missing is the incredible annual brunch thrown by my friend Robert, and his husband, but am determined to see what it feels like not being at the beach for the kick-off holiday weekend of the summer.
To wean myself away, I did go last weekend. Had a great time seeing friends. Had fun at Aqua each evening for happy hour; went to a great party at CAMP in honor of their new Executive Director Dr. Robin Brennan. I’ve had a chance to chat with her, and believe they made a great choice when hiring her. Then on Friday evening I went to the Washington Blade annual season kick-off party at Diego’s and met the new Steve Elkins Fellow, Thomas Weaverling, and am sure he will do a great job. It was wonderful to see Ashley Biden there accepting the award given posthumously to Beau Biden for all he did for the LGBTQ community. Then on Saturday I stopped in at Freddie’s Beach Bar for the Cloud Nine reunion. That brought back so many good memories. It was coordinated by the inimitable Fay Jacobs. It was back then when I did like crowds, the more the merrier, and remember dancing all evening on the small crowded dance floor. Some people at the reunion reminded me of all the years I hosted an annual Memorial Day party, actually the first 10 years I had my place at the beach. It was catered by the Blue Moon, when my friend Rob was there, and they brought the Champagne, hors d’oeuvres, and even a bartender. I just had to have fun, and I did. The thought of doing that today is a little overwhelming, and I think it is about age.
So, this year I will see how much I miss being at the beach for the holiday weekend. Then after my June trip to France, will decide whether I want to do the same for the Fourth of July. I kind of look forward to seeing what my thoughts on it are, and how it goes.
For those of you at the beach, I hope the place is a zoo, of the best kind, and you all have a fabulous time.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
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