When I was a teenager I was going through the house record collection and stumbled upon the holy grail of vinyls; Alex Haley’s Roots. I took it out of the sleeve, blew on it (creating a plume of dust) and put it in the record player. Listening to the recording that spoke of family, struggle, and a pain I was generations removed from was like stepping into another dimension. The recording was crisp and clear until it told the story of Kunta Kinte, a black man who had his foot chopped off as punishment for trying to escape slavery. The record skipped and all I heard was a continuous loop of the words limping and hobbling about, limping and hobbling about. It’s strange how repetition can drive home a point. Colin Kaepernick wore a shirt that said Kunta Kinte while performing for people that represent the reincarnation of the very plantations Kinte was trying to escape. It was at that very moment I realized the protest that started to bring attention to police brutality had morphed into something unrecognizable.
When Kaepernick agreed to audition for the NFL after settling his collusion case he was aware that the odds were not stacked in his favor. With each NFL communication it became more and more clear that his tryout would likely not be fair nor transparent. Instead of clearly explaining his grievances with the process and canceling the tryout, Colin invited NFL team reps ( with a moments notice) to watch him showcase his skills at an Atlanta area high school. A football player who began a movement to expose the modern day atrocities committed against Black Americans left many wondering how someone with vision could be completely blinded by their own ego.