Things That Make White People Uncomfortable

by Michael Bennett

It’s a reminder not to judge someone for not speaking out but to create the space so that when their time comes, they’re ready.

The first is when Cowboys owner Jerry Jones said that players “disrespecting the flag.… won’t play. Period.” That’s crazy to me: saying we’ll celebrate freedom by forcing people to stand. Then he explained that he was “helping” us because we “need consequences” in order to stand up to peer pressure.

hate comes at you when you make any stand. It’s the price of trying to be heard. If that’s the case, and we accept it, then it’s a waste of emotion to react to the negativity. The hate, the rage that people throw at you only has power if you let it affect you.

But it’s so much easier to talk shit than to do shit, because once you are out there representing what you believe, people see the real you.

Most everybody in the world wears a mask, and very rarely do people unveil who they really are.

That’s this country. The Light of Freedom, built by slaves.

Being born Black is a preexisting condition in this society, with a set of stressors that you can’t understand without living in our skin.

There is no self-determination without control, and there is no control without ownership, whether it’s your house, your car, or an NFL team.

People’s minds are broken not just because of concussions but because they don’t understand that an athlete needs to build up an independent sense of worth and purpose so there’s something to move on to after that last game check. It’s the toughest task, because while you’re playing, fans and management and coaches don’t want you to evolve. They want you to be the same fucking person you were when you got signed as a rookie.

We may approach things differently, but we share the same soul.

My white brothers are important to everything that we do, especially in confronting racism and what divides us. I want them standing with me, as Hauschka did when he was on the team and as Britt did on the sideline.

Frank Clark is a player we need to discuss. He’s a linebacker we drafted in the second round, in 2015, and a very special talent. Frank came from a rough background. He grew up homeless. He has a history of violence against women, from back in college, an issue that means a great deal to me. But Frank’s trying to change. He’s trying to understand. He could very easily be a broken person by now. That he is not broken and continues to try to be better means, I believe, that he will stay on a trajectory to become a leader and reach kids who can’t otherwise be reached. He needs to be at peace with his past, make amends, and move forward. By virtue of being on my team, he’s also family, and when you are family, you help people to change and stand behind them on their journey. I don’t know what pushing people away accomplishes, especially when they’re young and need guidance. Frank sat with me when I sat for the anthem during our first home game of 2017. It was Cliff and I and young Frank. It meant so much to me, not just to have his support but also because it shows he is growing. I hope people give him the chance to show the person he’s becoming.

It’s easier, always, to be hard than to be vulnerable.

it’s food that’s the essence of everything in your body.

I saw pain and suffering that hurt me in a way no offensive lineman ever could. It reminded me of being young and asking my mother, “Why?” As in, Why does the world even have to be like this? If you don’t ask why, you’ll never be attacked or criticized. No one is going to go after you or your family. But if you don’t ask why, nothing, not a damn thing, is ever going to change. I think that’s the difference between philanthropy and activism. Philanthropy is this kind of life-saving work. Activism is when you ask why this work needs to be done in the first place. Cliff Avril does both because he’s got the soul of an activist.

How can we be global leaders if we kill our own citizens?

If we can just get a small number of people—a small number of white people and white athletes—to shift from apathy to action, just like my teammate Justin Britt, we can change the world. That’s the kind of thinking I try to instill when I talk to kids who aren’t Black. Don’t feel guilty. Do something to make it better. Help us heal by standing—or sitting—alongside us.

This goes back to Fred Hampton, who said that the goal of any movement is to help people believe in themselves and understand that they have the potential to remake the world. Most people don’t see that in themselves.

the government, instead of spending my tax money on prisons, should invest in communities that have been starved for too long.

We can’t change shit unless we talk about it.

I’m not against divorce. If a marriage isn’t working, then it isn’t working. But it should end because two people are growing apart, not because one half of a couple hasn’t grown at all.

My instincts are to stay angry, but my heart says that anger is the road to ruin.

I still get mad when a coach yells at me or some member of the media asks me a dumbass question. (Five minutes after losing a game: “So, how do you feel about that loss?” How do you think I feel? Even Dr. King might smack someone for that dumb shit.) But I think that has to be the goal: the ability to forgive someone on the spot. It’s so easy to throw a punch. It’s so easy to shoot back. But to be able to forgive? There’s an organization of the families of murder victims that protests against the death penalty. That’s the level we need to aspire to. It’s not easy when revenge is held up in movies and music as the ultimate expression of manhood, instead of how it should be seen: as the response of the child.

There is a need to forgive but never forget, because if we are not honest about the past, we will never change our present or future.