by Akilah Monifa
Sunday, June 4, 2000
SPORTS IS the modern opiate of the people. Like all good drugs, it provides a satisfying boost to its users (both participants and spectators) and huge money to its owners. A compelling spectacle, sports promotes the cherished American ideal of intense competition on a level playing field where race nor gender matter. Sports heroes, language and images saturate U.S. culture, presenting a model of race, gender and sexual roles.
The WNBA has kicked off its fourth preseason in the dust of the now-defunct American Basketball League. In women's sports, sexual preference -- not race -- is the big taboo for corporate marketing. As Christine Grant, University of Iowa's athletic director was quoted in the News and Observer in Raleigh, N.C.: ``Homophobia in women's sports is like the McCarthyism of the 1950s. The fear is paralyzing.''
Just take a look at the WNBA's promotional ``femming up'' campaign to avoid even a question about the sexual orientation of the players or women coaches. In a magazine article, Dot Richardson of the 1996 Olympic softball team complained that because she was an athlete, people thought she must be a lesbian.
Pat Griffin, author of ``Strong Women, Deep Closets: Lesbians and Homophobia in Sports,'' writes, ``Somehow lesbians have become the scapegoats for problems in women's sports.'' According to a 1994 NCAA study, 49 percent of female athletes and 51 percent of female coaches said they felt homophobia was a hindrance to attracting and retaining women in athletic careers. In professional sports, it's OK to be a lesbian, just not OK to be out. Some college coaches use homophobia to steer straight players to their ``family friendly'' teams and away from teams known to be tolerant of lesbians.
Now, for the first time since ``Personal Best,'' there is a movie about women in sports. ``Love and Basketball'' tells the parallel story of two basketball players, a boy and a girl who meet at age 11 when they become next door neighbors. Told in four quarters from 1981 to the beginning of the WNBA, ``Love'' mirrors the issues faced by professional women athletes. The tomboy and lesbian accusations. The notion that women aren't as good athletes as men. The limited opportunities for women in terms of professional sports even with the WNBA. The inequities in college opportunities despite Title IX. The lack of commercial endorsements and salary inequities in professional sports based on gender.
Women are still conflicted with attempting to balance personal and family relationships with their sports careers. If sports is a metaphor for life, the very attributes that are admired in male athletes are disdained in female athletes. But not all women/girls have stereotypical values and interests. When the lead female character in ``Love and Basketball'' attends her senior spring dance, her mind wanders when making out with her date. She is trying to concentrate and remember how many offensive rebounds she got in the championship game.
When the characters in the movie first met at age 11, Monica's dream is to be the first woman to play in the NBA. Her male counterpart tells her that he will be the one to play in the NBA and she'll be his cheerleader. Made sense at the time. And still does today. The reality of a women players or coaches in the NBA is not on the horizon. But then again, the WNBA was not something that folks thought would happen and thrive. In the movie, the characters' parallel lives diverge when in their freshman year at the University of Southern California, the guy drops out and is drafted in the NBA. The woman graduates, at first plays professionally in Europe and then finally in the WNBA. The guy gets bounced around in the NBA and eventually sustains what is probably a career-ending injury in that he tears a knee ligament. In the end, it is he who is the courtside cheerleader and stay-at-home dad with baby in tow, cheering on mom, who is playing for the Los Angeles Sparks.
But then again, that's Hollywood. Although it has been said that a male athlete has better odds of being struck by lightning than becoming a professional, what then are the odds of becoming a professional female athlete?
Big money is involved, for players, corporations, colleges and cities. Gender inequities abound. Who will break the silence?
Akilah Monifa is a free-lance writer in Oakland.
Page ED - 9 URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2000/06/04/ED52558.DTL
Sunday, June 4, 2000
Sunday, March 12, 2000
`Blackout' Leaves African Americans With Few Choices
by AKILAH MONIFA
Sunday, March 12, 2000
BLACKS ARE BEING ignored in the 2000 presidential race by both major parties.
February may have been Black History Month in America, but not on the campaign trail. Until now, African Americans could count on politicians at least feigning interest in our issues once every four years. But as we enter the 21st century, with the economic disparity between African Americans and other citizens looming as large as ever, I wonder why we are seeing a Y2K ``blackout'' on the issues of greatest importance to our community.
According to the League of Women Voters, Ambassador Alan Keyes, the only African American in the race, is the only one with a statement on affirmative action. Keyes, of course, is against it.
Only Sen. John McCain has a position paper on work-family issues, another area of interest for many African American voters.
Perhaps the Democrats think the black vote is a fait accompli. In the last three presidential elections, nearly nine out of 10 African Americans have voted Democratic.
Meanwhile, Republicans are busy courting the Latino vote. For the first time, Latino voters are being blitzed with a multimillion-dollar bilingual ad campaign launched by the Republican National Committee.
In 1996, 44 percent of Latinos voted, compared with 53 percent of African Americans and 60 percent of whites, according to Census Bureau data.
Yet the popularly held theory is that whoever wins the Latino vote in California will win the presidency. And 40 percent of new voters in California are Latino. Even the Rev. Jesse Jackson has been conspicuously absent this election season. In past elections, we could count on him to be an outspoken player and advocate for our issues, regardless of whether he was running. But this time it seems he has also abandoned us in party politics.
The Associated Press reported that Jackson and his son Jesse Jackson Jr. (D.-Ill.) are withholding endorsements in exchange for a Democratic presidential candidate's promise to support a third Chicago-area airport near the younger Jackson's district.
That leaves African Americans in a political black hole, as candidates scramble for other voters of color to get them over the hump. Once catered to and wooed -- at least at election time -- African Americans are, for the most part, being ignored. We are out; Latinos are in.
This new form of neglect comes at a time when African Americans still experience unequal opportunities, despite state and federal legislation. A digital divide looms between white people and people of color: Only five African Americans and one Latino sit on the boards of companies in Silicon Valley, according to a 1999 survey by the Coalition for Fair Employment in Silicon Valley.
Taxicabs still often refuse to stop for African American men. Racial profiling by police abounds as we drive, shop and live.
Employment discrimination is widespread, including in the arts. On television, actors of color remain virtually absent despite agreements last year between the NAACP and several networks to increase the involvement of people of color in front of the camera and behind the scenes.
In the past five years, while much of America has been riding a wave of Silicon Valley-inspired prosperity, a University of Michigan study found that the average African American household's net worth decreased from $8,400 to $7,500.
By contrast, the net worth of the median American household increased 9 percent, to $59,000.
In his famous ``I Have a Dream'' speech, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. said African Americans were living ``on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.''
Thirty-seven years after King's speech, it seems we are still on that lonely island. Given the extraordinarily slow rate of progress, all presidential candidates should be addressing the issues and proposing solutions. But they aren't.
If King's dream is to become a reality, America needs leadership. And leadership begins with presidential candidates who must acknowledge the concerns of African Americans and propose solutions in their platforms. The only way to end a ``blackout'' is to shed light on the issues.
Akilah Monifa is an Oakland freelance writer.
Page SC - 7 URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2000/03/12/SC97487.DTL
Sunday, March 12, 2000
BLACKS ARE BEING ignored in the 2000 presidential race by both major parties.
February may have been Black History Month in America, but not on the campaign trail. Until now, African Americans could count on politicians at least feigning interest in our issues once every four years. But as we enter the 21st century, with the economic disparity between African Americans and other citizens looming as large as ever, I wonder why we are seeing a Y2K ``blackout'' on the issues of greatest importance to our community.
According to the League of Women Voters, Ambassador Alan Keyes, the only African American in the race, is the only one with a statement on affirmative action. Keyes, of course, is against it.
Only Sen. John McCain has a position paper on work-family issues, another area of interest for many African American voters.
Perhaps the Democrats think the black vote is a fait accompli. In the last three presidential elections, nearly nine out of 10 African Americans have voted Democratic.
Meanwhile, Republicans are busy courting the Latino vote. For the first time, Latino voters are being blitzed with a multimillion-dollar bilingual ad campaign launched by the Republican National Committee.
In 1996, 44 percent of Latinos voted, compared with 53 percent of African Americans and 60 percent of whites, according to Census Bureau data.
Yet the popularly held theory is that whoever wins the Latino vote in California will win the presidency. And 40 percent of new voters in California are Latino. Even the Rev. Jesse Jackson has been conspicuously absent this election season. In past elections, we could count on him to be an outspoken player and advocate for our issues, regardless of whether he was running. But this time it seems he has also abandoned us in party politics.
The Associated Press reported that Jackson and his son Jesse Jackson Jr. (D.-Ill.) are withholding endorsements in exchange for a Democratic presidential candidate's promise to support a third Chicago-area airport near the younger Jackson's district.
That leaves African Americans in a political black hole, as candidates scramble for other voters of color to get them over the hump. Once catered to and wooed -- at least at election time -- African Americans are, for the most part, being ignored. We are out; Latinos are in.
This new form of neglect comes at a time when African Americans still experience unequal opportunities, despite state and federal legislation. A digital divide looms between white people and people of color: Only five African Americans and one Latino sit on the boards of companies in Silicon Valley, according to a 1999 survey by the Coalition for Fair Employment in Silicon Valley.
Taxicabs still often refuse to stop for African American men. Racial profiling by police abounds as we drive, shop and live.
Employment discrimination is widespread, including in the arts. On television, actors of color remain virtually absent despite agreements last year between the NAACP and several networks to increase the involvement of people of color in front of the camera and behind the scenes.
In the past five years, while much of America has been riding a wave of Silicon Valley-inspired prosperity, a University of Michigan study found that the average African American household's net worth decreased from $8,400 to $7,500.
By contrast, the net worth of the median American household increased 9 percent, to $59,000.
In his famous ``I Have a Dream'' speech, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. said African Americans were living ``on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.''
Thirty-seven years after King's speech, it seems we are still on that lonely island. Given the extraordinarily slow rate of progress, all presidential candidates should be addressing the issues and proposing solutions. But they aren't.
If King's dream is to become a reality, America needs leadership. And leadership begins with presidential candidates who must acknowledge the concerns of African Americans and propose solutions in their platforms. The only way to end a ``blackout'' is to shed light on the issues.
Akilah Monifa is an Oakland freelance writer.
Page SC - 7 URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2000/03/12/SC97487.DTL
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