As Angel Reese’s fame soars, she isn’t changing who she is
“So for generations in the mind of America, the Negro has been more of a formula than a human being — a something to be argued about, condemned or defended, to be ‘kept down,’ or ‘in his place,’ or ‘helped up,’ to be worried with or worried over, harassed or patronized, a societal bogey or a social burden.”
When the great Alain LeRoy Locke wrote this in his essay “The New Negro” almost 100 years ago in 1925, not many, including a large percentage of Black folk, believed that a century later those words would so accurately apply to a 22-year-old Black woman trying to hoop for a living.
But here we are, and here she be. In all her glory and to the country’s disdain. An All-Star in her first season in the W. Yet, Paul Skenes is all the rage. LSU sure knows how to produce ’em.
When you look at Angel Reese, what do you see? A wingless Angel? A Black malcontent who doesn’t know her place or how this game outside of the game at the professional level is supposed to be played? Yeah, probably that. Or any of these: Egotistical. Unclassy. Classless. Conceited. Unsportswomanlike. Always the victim and villain. Takes no accountability. Terrible attitude. Dramatic. Diva. ’Hood. Ghetto. Ratchet. Extra. All of the above?
What most refuse to see is the beauty of the skin she chooses to live in. A skin at this point millions-on-millions thought she’d shed like most other Black athletes when their fame introduces itself to fortune. But you probably don’t even get the double meaning of what you just read.
Please understand that the way most of this country feels about Angel Reese (who recently came in at No. 1 on BetOnline sportsbook’s study as the most hated player in the WNBA) is not a “thinly veiled” expression of dislike derived from the color of her skin. The feelings as a whole are very loud and upfront. Just because the exact and trigger words aren’t being used or expressed when speaking or writing about her, doesn’t mean that at the root of what isn’t being directly said isn’t what this whole thing is really about. Because it is. It’s deeper than her just being Black — it’s her blackness, the “type of Black” she is, that provokes America’s uncomfortability with her.
Most athletes, when they reach a certain career plateau way too early, people worry they’ll lose sight, mind and comfort of and in who they are. Change becomes imminent. But when that doesn’t happen, especially to one whom the outside world wishes it would happen to, a deeper shade of disappointment often called disgust sets in.
The white acceptance. America’s acceptance. “You’re not supposed to own yourself like that. We’re supposed to own you.” It’s a stereotypical construct that has been our obstacle for as long as Black athletes (and people) have been able to speak into existence our version of freedom. Not being the right “kind of Black” strategically centers the story, and “attitude” becomes its replacement.
Then something like this appears as a reminder. On July 5, at 3:07 p.m., former WNBA player and current mental-performance coach Valeria Olivia Whiting posted a note in the form of a text message by William Martina that was sent to Reese’s mother via The Angel C. Reese Foundation. According to Reese’s mother, these types of messages are weekly occurrences in Angel’s life: “Black b---- you disgust me with your silly jealous antics let your daughter shine and soro teaching here to be jealous to get attention! Stopbeing a black ratchet gutter b---- s black women look bad and stop talking about cc she got the swag she changing the game be glad that your daughter got a chance to even play in the w!! Cuz if wasn’t for cc nobody would know your low gpa having daughter.”
Same hate Ja Morant, Tyreek Hill and Deion Sanders carry with them, but different. Same hate held originally toward Cassius Clay and Reggie Jackson and still toward Marshawn Lynch, but different. Same misunderstanding of what Black cultural appropriation looks like in the form of a unique athlete, but different. Blame Allen Iverson. For Angel, blame Sha’Carri Richardson for real, for real. Also, less direct, blame A’ja Wilson. For she has refused to shed her skin, too.
Angel Reese is an early-onset boss. She wants you to see her freedom. What that looks like in the form of a female basketball player. A Black one. A proud one. It’s the ownership of her blackness that people resent. Usually, this is when the code switch happens. This, for so many Black athletes entering the beginning stages of superstarness, is when the selling out of self and separation from their people begins.
Not she.
Her’s is that new Black (not Negro) trapped in that old “being Black” that America wants to disappear that is the problem Reese has inherited. She knows this. She’s smart like that. But she’s also human. So while she figures out both herself and this world around her, there will be moments of breakdown, perceived contradiction, vulnerability and altruism. It’s all human. Something so often the world has yet allowed her to be.
The blackness they see in her they want to align with a reduction in dignity and self-acceptance. That “damn shame” blackness. That dictionary definition blackness. The one she’s unapologetically redefining in front of their eyes. Our eyes. That’s the bother. Her blackness — not just the color of her skin — is her beauty. Her power. Most of y’all just ain’t used to that.