Mediocre: The Dangerous Legacy of White Male America

by Ijeoma Oluo

like a job as an analyst likely would have, fits my introverted yet very opinionated personality. I spend a lot of time observing, thinking, commenting. I do not have to compromise my principles or soften my message to make friends or keep a job (I have certainly lost a gig or two, but the beauty of freelancing is that editors have short memories and you do your best to move on to the next one). And I do a lot of it in the privacy of my own home—sans pants.

The political and social failings of our society are most likely to hit marginalized populations first and hardest.

When I think of Shirley Chisholm, I think of another quote from her about how she wanted to be remembered: “I want history to remember me not just as the first Black woman to be elected to Congress, not as the first Black woman to have made a bid for the presidency of the United States, but as a Black woman who lived in the twentieth century and dared to be herself.”

They think that the absence of women and people of color from powerful rooms is due to self-selection. They do not question how unwelcoming the room they have built might be. They do not question whether or not the discussions they are having in that room are inclusive and generate productive discussions for women and people of color. They don’t ask if there are other, equally important conversations happening in other rooms. And they don’t even bother to ask if anyone unlocked the door. They look at the room and say that women and people of color aren’t in it because women and people of color aren’t interested. Then they cite this supposed disinterest as proof that women and people of color are too unqualified to even be invited

has also faced unprecedented amounts of scrutiny and hatred in her work, and simply for existing.

I’m dismayed not only because it appears that women of color currently working in politics are treated with the same, if not more, disdain, blatant racism and sexism, and outright hatred that Shirley Chisholm faced—but also because the status quo they are blasted for challenging has remained so unchanged.

What could wealthy young men do to cultivate strength and aggression if they lived a life of ease? They could, perhaps, play a rough sport. “The very foundation of football in this country comes out of fears of ruling-class mediocrity and [fears of] the mediocrity of their own children.”

It is easy to see how the rise of powerful Black players in a game that had been founded to showcase white male physical superiority would be a turnoff to fans invested in shows of white male dominance.

This is not, I repeat, not, how change should come about. I take full responsibility for the inaction,

Twenty-seven percent of people who were killed by cops in 2015 were Black, even though Blacks make up only 12 percent of the overall population. In addition, cops are four times more likely to use force in their encounters with Black people than they are with whites.33

When the majority of the players are Black, it is hard to not see the racial implications of Black men physically toiling for free in order to make white institutions millions of dollars.

many NFL teams started as company teams as a way to pacify and control workers. Teams like the Decatur Staleys (which became the Chicago Bears) were developed to keep workers busy and happy, and to foster company loyalty during times of union upheaval.54 According to Dave Zirin, those teams were encouraged “as something for workers to do after work to keep them away from union meetings, to keep them away from political meetings, to give them a social space that doesn’t involve rebellion.” Today, where businesses once used football to distract white workers from their labor grievances, American football leadership now uses race to distract the public from the labor grievances of the players.

American football was founded as part of the elite white male preoccupation with maintaining physical power over a nation and its people. When that preoccupation cost too many lives, the sport became a tool for maintaining elite white male power by distracting dissatisfied white working-class men.

It’s the expectation that many white men have that they shouldn’t have to climb, shouldn’t have to struggle, as others do. It’s the idea not only that they think they have less than others, but that they were supposed to have so much more. When you are denied the power, the success, or even the relationships that you think are your right, you either believe that you are broken or you believe that you have been stolen from. White men who think they have been stolen from often take that anger out on others. White men who think they are broken take that anger out on themselves.

But when I look at white male identity in America, I see it all. I see the desperation, the disappointment, the despair, the rage.

can only imagine how desolately lonely it must feel to only be able to relate to other human beings through conquer and competition.

only success they are allowed comes at the expense of others, and the only feelings they are allowed to express are triumph or rage.

We must stop telling women and people of color that the only path to success lies in emulating white male dominance.