The Sterling in the Mirror: When Racism Isn't a Cartoon

Maybe I should join the parade. Maybe I should lose myself in the jubilation of the popular mob dragging the corpse of an old man through the streets after his social execution. Maybe I should be more excited about the press conference in which Sacramento Mayor and ex NBA superstar, Kevin Johnson, declared the Donald Sterling lifetime ban to be a historic moment in civil rights history and a symbol of racial progress. Instead, I feel a little like the ungrateful party pooper—the kid who can’t hide the disappointment on his face after opening a birthday gift that was good, but not the one he’s been asking for all along. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that Sterling was banned from the league and will likely be forced to sell his team. I’m glad that our society has progressed enough to realize how despicable Sterling’s comments were. But I’m concerned, too. I’m concerned because most people tend to only acknowledge racism when it comes to us as a big, ugly caricature that resembles an old white guy rambling on like a plantation owner. We’ve suddenly become fairly skilled at dealing with Racism on the rare occasion that he appears to us pants down in an open field, without camouflage, sporting a big red target on his back that says I’m here. When this happens, people pull out their collective duck hunt pistols, inch up real close to the screen, and then self-congratulate their progressive marksmanship as the feathers fall to the ground. The problem is that although Sterling’s ugly comments are the most blatant form by which racism can appear, they are also the least dangerous.

What about those other times when Racism wears a disguise? When it appears in the form of the housing discrimination that prevented perhaps thousands of black and brown people from living in Sterling’s apartment complexes. Racism was his usual coy self then, manifested from the lips of an apartment manager who simply said “Sorry, we have no more open vacancies here.” I wonder if those minorities who dared to be suspicious at such exclusion were treated like whacky conspiracy theorists by their white pals who refused to believe that such things can happen in a “post-racial” America. And what about the culture of corporate racism that Sterling promoted against his would-be black employees and Hall of Fame ex executive, Elgin Baylor? Thousands of people’s livelihood were affected without any recourse. Why? All because Racism put on some glasses and rocked a comb-over ala Clark Kent—he wore the mask of a system. Where was the moral outrage from players and the commissioner then?  

It’s good that we have one less bigot in a position of power over black lives and bodies. But I’m concerned that this fiasco reiterated some dangerous lessons that, ironically, work against an equal society. First, it taught us that systemic racism will be tolerated as long as one does not sound racist. Sterling was only punished after he was caught on tape practically calling his black players and fanbase “Niggers.” Nevermind when he treated people who needed shelter as such. Hardly anyone is willing to acknowledge the less cartoonish, far more dangerous ways that racism manifests in systems of white privilege. Second, it again taught us that racism is something out there, located outside of any of us, in those few bad people who sometimes say stupid things. This is why even Bill O’Reilly, someone who has been as racially insensitive as they come, can denounce the words of Sterling. This is why even Sterling himself does not believe that he is actually racist. Hardly anyone thinks that the racist ideology of white supremacy could possibly live inside of them or their institutions. The flawed logic goes like this: “Bad guys are racist, but I am a good person. Therefore, I am not racist.” In the end, we have people, corporations, and even churches who will condemn Donald Sterling's actions while themselves benefiting from the culture of racism. 

So, while I’m glad that the strong reaction to Sterling’s comments proved that the world can beat Racism in a game of checkers, I’m not satisfied. Not as long as I know that Racism is a master chess player—not as long as I know that there's a little Donald Sterling in all of us. Both of these realities should motivate us to be humble even as we celebrate that justice was finally executed—knowing that there is still work to be done in defeating the more subtle racism that threatens minorities daily and that much of that work needs to be done on the person in the mirror.