Stepping In It, Unintentionally

A small story about inadvertently offending a group of people, reading comprehension, and coming juuuust short of being called a racist. 

In my previous life as a daily newspaper sports typist, I periodically wrote columns. Opinion pieces, supplemental pieces about topics and events, pieces that permitted more expressive leeway than straight reporting. Some were better, and better received, than others. This is about one of the “others.” 

After Virginia fired basketball coach Pete Gillen in 2005, to the joy and relief of a sizeable section of Cavalier fandom, I wrote a column that cautioned against thinking that the next hire would be automatically successful. I had a conversation with a coach about job vacancies and replacements, and he said that there’s no reason to think athletic directors get it right when hiring new coaches. They don’t hire coaches in marquee sports very often, he said, so it’s not a regular exercise. External pressure from boosters and influencers often complicates the process. 

Pete can't believe you wrote that,
Dave

With an increasing number of athletic administrators coming from business and not athletic backgrounds, they may not be equipped to gauge how well a candidate can build relationships and a successful culture, or how well they may fit at a specific school. Even the best athletic directors whiff now and then, he said. I paraphrased several of his points and wrote a disclaimer that these weren’t original thoughts, that someone smarter than me floated them. I wrote that it shouldn’t be a surprise, since regular readers know that several species of canine and the entire student body at such-and-such local middle school are smarter than me. I wrapped up the column and sent it to the copy desk. No questions or complaints. 

The next morning, I took phone calls from torqued off teachers and parents from said middle school, blasting me for comparing their students to dogs. I was dumbfounded. My responses were mostly along the lines of: That’s not what I wrote; I was poking fun at myself; go back and re-read the segment. They were having none of it. The fact that I mentioned dogs and their students in the same sentence meant I was comparing them. Did I not know how harmful and hurtful that was? 

Then came a curveball from one teacher: Was I aware that said middle school is predominantly African-American? No, I was not. Apparently, I should have known. So, I wrote that the entire student body of a predominantly African-American middle school was smarter than me, right? Nope, because I mentioned dogs in the same sentence, which meant that I was saying those Black kids were no smarter than dogs. I also got a call from, if memory serves, the school’s assistant principal, repeating in very measured and sober tones all of the same criticisms. I told him, too, that’s not what I wrote, go back and read the segment. There was no intent to belittle kids, and for what logical reason would a sports column about college coaching changes do so? 

Willful or not, he insisted that I did. He accused me, in so many words, of being ignorant of and insensitive to the Black community. I asked if he was aware of me and had read any of my work through the years. He said that he had not. I said, as an educator and administrator, wouldn’t you advise your students and colleagues not to draw conclusions based on just one small piece of information? 

Long pause. 

I’ve known people like you, he said. Really? And what are people like me? They pass themselves off as good people, he said, but they aren’t aware of how their words and actions affect others. Their prejudices are just below the surface and become evident. They help reinforce stereotypes. I said, that’s quite the leap, given that you don’t know me at all. 

I told him, we’re gonna have to agree to disagree. Bottom line, they wanted a retraction. They wanted an apology. I gave them neither. I had a conversation with my editor, who fielded a couple of calls himself. Did he think I belittled kids? No, he said, but they think you did; could all of them be wrong?

Yep, I told him. I honestly don’t recall how the mess was resolved. I have a vague recollection that someone above me wrote a half-disclaimer, half-explanation and apologized for my wording, but that there was no ill intent. I continued to write columns, and colleagues gave me gas about bullying kids and suggested sensitivity training. 

I saw the coach whose ideas I cribbed a week or so later. I asked him at the time if he minded if I used them anonymously. Sure, he said. 

He asked how the column turned out. I told him what I wrote and how it got me in trouble with the middle school folks. You’re kidding, he said, in disbelief. At least both of us were callous douchebags.

I’m certain that some stuff I wrote and said 15 or 20 years ago – or last week – was insensitive or lacked awareness. The landscape today is even more fraught, a minefield of potential aggrievement about anything beyond the idea that puppies are adorable. The lesson, I guess, in all of it is to communicate clearly and without ambiguity. 

Keep the wiseassery to a minimum in broader audiences. If possible, ask friends and trusted colleagues their opinions before you deliver a message. And sometimes, don’t hit the ‘send’ button, and keep it to yourself. You’ll probably sacrifice clicks and eyeballs and attention, but you’ll save yourself some grief. Unless DGAF is your stock in trade.