The landscape of LGBTQ athletes in professional sports in the United States is changing with what seems like an increasingly rapid pace. Gay-identified basketball player Jason Collins and gay-identified football player Michael Sam are both expected to become the first openly LGBTQ active players in the NBA and NFL, respectively, and both have become frequent topics of conversation in the greater LGBTQ liberation movement.
In a story that ran in yesterday’s issue of The Crimson White titled “First openly gay athletes should be judged on performance,” columnist Matthew Wilson opined that while Collins and Sam both represent steps forward in the struggle for equality, the LGBTQ identity of athletes ultimately “shouldn’t matter.” Wilson instead argued that athletic ability should be the primary indicator of a player’s merit.
While this view has noble enough intentions, I am wary of language used to discuss athletes like Collins and Sam that emphasizes propriety instead of reality. Should Sam’s being gay matter? In a perfect world, no. Sam’s gay identity itself will not improve his team’s performance on the field per se.
But what about off the field? Sam’s gay identity doesn’t exist in a vacuum. His announcement carries the weight it does because it was made in a world where LGBTQ people are silenced, otherized and oppressed by a non-LGBTQ predominance. When we devote time to talking about what “should” be, we run the risk of derailing conversations about what actually is. LGBTQ discrimination is still very much a reality, and that context cannot be separated from the experiences of Sam or Collins.
It is important to consider the significance of figures like Sam and Collins in the fight for LGBTQ representation and visibility. In her 1995 article “Queer Visibility in Commodity Culture,” feminist scholar Rosemary Hennessy wrote that LGBTQ images in mainstream media “can be empowering for those of us who have lived most of our lives with no validation at all from the dominant culture.”
While an athlete’s gay identity may not be a big deal for some, it is a very big deal for LGBTQ people who look to people like Sam for empowerment. Young LGBTQ football players may soon have an openly LGBTQ player to model themselves after, and that simple fact alone is enough to matter.
Sam’s publicist made waves earlier this month by saying that Sam “is a football player, not an activist.” With respect, I disagree with that last part. Sam is an activist simply by existing publicly as an LGBTQ person in a historically non-LGBTQ space.
Noah Cannon is a junior majoring in telecommunication and film. His column runs biweekly.
