More Than Icons and Images: Uncovering the Hidden Protest Narrative of the Black American Athlete in the 21st Century

Beginning with the Mandinka warriors who were forced to engage in slave fights by racist plantation owners for over 150 years, sports have consistently emerged as an inter-woven part of American society. Equally notable within sports' social emergence throughout the aforementioned time-span is the evolving intersectionality between politics, race, and sports. Racial disparity within front office leadership, backlash for voicing political abstention from patriotic traditions, and gender inequitably relating to salary are just a few of the political issues embedded in America's extensive historic fascination with sports. It is therefore reasonable and for many understandable that the axioms of athletic struggle and social power struggle would intersect and create political theater in the US. Throughout the history of the American political landscape's evolution, there has existed a type of interconnectivity tethering race, subjugation and notions of political progress or cultural domination to class and culture. According to theorist Patrick Miller, "Sports has held a prominent political place within American society for over 150 years" (Race and sports: The struggle for equality on and off the field, 2004 p.149). On October 16th 1968, in Mexico City, Mexico, that political place of prominence would be communicated to a global audience by two Black male American Olympians in unprecedented fashion. In an article entitled "Mandela Knew Sports had the Power to End Apartheid," columnist Patrick Collins explains that Nelson Mandela, the legendary South African activist and politician, stood as "one of the 20th century's most notable figures for his efforts to end apartheid" (Mail on Sunday, p.24). While he used a combination of methods to dismantle South Africa's system of institutionalized racism, sports were an invaluable resource that Mandela used to usher in social change. While addressing 65,000 soccer fans at the 1995 World Cup in Johannesburg, South Africa, he used the transformative and unifying power of sports to promote change. In the speech, Mandela exhorted, "Sport has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It has the power to unite people in a way that little else does. Sports can awaken hope where there is previously only despair it is more powerful than government in breaking down racial barriers..." (Collins, 1995, 2013 p.24). Unlike conventional protests and even diplomacy, Mandela asserts that sports competitions are spaces in which healing can transcend cultures, social conditions, and even inequality. Mandela posits that "sport" is a social device that has the potential to bring impactful change. Mandela's claim raises the questions of how do some who are involved with athletic competition in some capacity gain the sociopolitical aptitude to use sports for political gains? Is there a political price levied against those who dare to engage in turning athletic competitions into social spaces of political discourse? These and other questions serve as the cornerstones for an analysis that will investigate the idealistic and philosophical influences that propelled Tommie Smith and John Carlos to participate in the iconic 1968 Summer Olympic medal-stand protest. For African Americans, in particular, the country's relationship with sports has produce a plethora of experiences and perspectives This book steps into this major social discourse through the lens of one of America's most iconic uses of sports as a platform to use embodied voice as a means of political resistance: The 1968 Medal Stand Protest in Mexico City, Mexico by Tommie Smith and John Carlos. In doing so, it is my hope that grappling with the nuances of the fascinating synergy between sports and political representation and studying the role of athletics and political achievement will forge new avenues of voice among Black athletic performances.