The image of Damar Hamlin, a 24-year-old man in his athletic prime, lying motionless on the field turf in Cincinnati is one that is nearly impossible to escape. Paramedics were on the scene immediately and, within moments, were administering life-saving measures to the Buffalo Bills safety. Hamlin’s collapse following his tackle of Bengals receiver Tee Higgins conjured up memories of Hank Gathers and Darryl Stingley, for those senior enough to remember them. It’s also easy for one to draw parallels between this tragedy and others suffered by those like Hamlin that have taken place outside the realm of sports.
Damar Hamlin’s story appears to be unique, but he’s far from the first young Black man in America left to fight for his life prematurely. We’ve seen it every day for decades: gang violence, police brutality, casualties of war or the dope game. For whatever cause, in spite of all they’ve brought to this country – from sports, to entertainment, to culture, to society at large – far too many young Black men seem to have been born with a crack in their hour glass; the only thing more fleeting than their time on earth is the sympathy they receive from their fellow man.
This was different—refreshingly different.
The immediate aftermath of Hamlin’s condition was met with extreme empathy and care for all involved by Joe Buck, Troy Aikman and ESPN’s Monday Night Football crew. In the days since, we’ve seen Hamlin’s jersey sales skyrocket to the top spot in all of sports. His Chasing Ms foundation’s community toy drive, which initially held a modest GoFundMe goal of $2,500, has now surpassed $7 million in donations (you read that right), with virtually every NFL team and some star players chipping in. The sports media landscape has been on eggshells (debate shows were particularly subdued) in a effort to avoid showing callousness or disdain for the situation. Videos of Hamlin embracing his family before a game was widely circulated on social media. In a shocking twist for the NFL, the Monty Burns of all sports leagues, the Bills/Bengals game on Monday night was stopped completely and ultimately canceled with no makeup planned, to give proper respect to Hamlin. The NFL is fiercely behind him, however athletes across all of sports have showed support. The former Pitt Panther’s coaches and teammates have spoken of him in glowing terms, informing us that this relatively unknown football player is of exemplary character.
Above all this story, which has transcended athletics and garnered national attention, has elicited a shared response of well-wishes for the health for Damar Hamlin. For once, in spite of its ubiquitousness, “thoughts and prayers” actually felt genuine.
Absent from all this is Hamlin’s Blackness. Typically stories of tragedy involving men who fit Hamlin’s description are met with equal parts skepticism and apathy. Here, our support for Hamlin was united…and afterwards everyone was fine! It’s impossible to get Americans to unite for anything—perhaps this is some small sign of advancement.
We didn’t see people digging into Hamlin’s past attempting to assassinate his character. We didn’t see an overwhelming lack of understanding. We didn’t see rampant victim blaming (Can you imagine? “If he didn’t want his heart stopped, he shouldn’t have entered the NFL Draft!”) We didn’t see attempts to call his charity into suspicion or cut down his family members. Nobody made a mockery of his teammate’s trauma. They didn’t question his tackling technique. They didn’t wonder aloud why injuries to other players weren’t getting more run and there was no “Tee Higgins’ Life Matters” campaign to redirect attention. Nobody stereotyped Damar Hamlin. There was no division over his story nor did people let it fall on deaf ears—we paid attention. Hell, we even saw a white man, who is not a pastor, pray for him on live TV.
As beautiful as this might be, it’s worth noting how unusual this treatment is for a Black man (a brown-skinned man with locks no less). Progress is progress, but how exactly did we get here?
There were some key factors that allowed Damar Hamlin to be fully embraced by the American public. This took place within the confines of a sporting event that is no stranger to significant injuries. There was video of the entire episode from start to finish, making it virtually impossible for one to reasonably refute what transpired. More importantly though, Hamlin is a pro athlete playing our favorite sport at the highest level. The uniform he donned gave him a certain immunity he almost assuredly wouldn’t have otherwise received.
How then are we as Black people supposed to reconcile with learning that we too can receive unwavering support from the good ole U.S. of A., but only if we run a 4.4 40? Although one could argue Damar Hamlin was neither famous or wealthy a week ago, famous and or wealthy people will always be the recipients of preferential treatment. But it’s hard to envision Damar Hamlin receiving the same outpouring of love if he weren’t wearing a helmet.
Sidebar: Ask yourself: how would Brittney Griner’s story have been covered if she worked in a call center?
Much like the Obama presidency, Damar Hamlin’s story doesn’t signify the end of race-related issues or the general lack of compassion towards Black folks that exists within this country. For one, Tee Higgins was allegedly receiving death threats for his role in the play. Skip Bayless was COOKED for the timing and nature of his ridiculously insensitive tweet. And there’s a greater issue at hand that involves what the NFL, a predominately Black league, will do to better Hamlin’s quality of life if and when his career concludes. History and the CBA suggests it won’t be much, as ironically, “The Shield” rarely protects their own.
The protection of Black people is social media nomenclature that, if overused, can erode its tangible meaning. Of course, it’s unrealistic to think any troubled Black person should automatically receive millions in charitable donations (we’re here for it!), but if the last week has taught us anything, it’s that America actually possesses the capacity to protect a young Black man and his family the way he/they ought to be when faced with gut-wrenching adversity.
Our nation has failed to properly humanize Black people and value Black life at almost every turn; as we hope for a rapid recovery for Damar Hamlin, let’s also hope that the space in between the lines is not the only refuge for Black Americans.