COMMENTARY: On Race... And Racing

Phelps: "The time is now to listen."

Just before the start of yesterday’s “Folds of Honor QuikTrip 500” at Atlanta Motor Speedway, NASCAR took the unprecedented step of stopping its race cars on the front straightaway during the final pre-race parade lap, for sanctioning body president Steve Phelps to deliver an address expressing NASCAR’s support for improved race relations and an end to the social unrest that currently threatens to tear this nation apart.

“Our country is in pain and our people are justifiably angry, demanding to be heard,’’ said Phelps, as the field sat silent before an empty AMS grandstand. “The black community and all people of color have suffered in our country, and it has taken far too long for us to hear their demands for change. Our sport must do better. Our country must do better.

"The time is now to listen, to understand and to stand against racism and racial injustice," Phelps added. "We ask our drivers and all our fans to join us in this mission; to take a moment of reflection, to acknowledge that we must do better as a sport, and join us as we now pause and take a moment to listen."

His comments were followed by 30 seconds of silence, and when the cars re-fired, FOX Sports aired a video featuring current and former Cup Series drivers including Darrell Wallace, Jr.  Jimmie Johnson and Dale Earnhardt, Jr. expressing their support for improved race relations and an end to discrimination.

Wallace, currently NASCAR’s only African American national series driver, wore a black T-shirt with the words "I Can’t Breathe" during pre-race ceremonies, commemorating the final words of George Floyd, whose death at the hands of a Minneapolis, MN police officer recently triggered mass protests in all 50 states, demanding an end to police brutality against people of color.

Wallace has been the sport’s most outspoken voice in recent days, telling Dale Earnhardt, Jr., on the “Dale Jr. Download” podcast of his reaction to the fatal shooting of Ahmaud Arbery while jogging in Georgia recently, Kyle Larson’s use of the N-word earlier this season and instances of discrimination and racial profiling from his own life, including the fatal shooting of his cousin by a police officer in 2003.

“I was running around the (High School) gym with all the other brothers and sisters, and all of a sudden, I hear a scream,” he recalled. “Like the worst scream that you’d want to hear. Not like a `somebody-scared-you’ scream, like something bad had just happened. And I look over and I see my mom running out the door. She had just found out my cousin had been shot and killed by a police officer. Unarmed.

“I was young. I didn’t understand it. We lost a family member. But now, seeing everything come full circle, I totally get it.”

Wallace attributed the shooting to a convenience store clerk “who happened to be white (and) felt threatened that there were more African Americans and that something bad was going to happen. So she called the cops. The police officer ordered my cousin Sean to put his hands up, and he did. The officer walked away, (my cousin) went to grab his phone to call his mom because he was scared and he was shot and killed by (another) police officer.

Bubba Wallace

“People were having a good time, not bothering anybody. But somehow, people are afraid. Why are you afraid of black people? That’s the thing I don’t understand. We’re minding our own business… having a good time and somebody’s life was taken. It happened to my family member.

“I’ve dealt with my own struggles… of getting pulled up at stoplights and having guns drawn,” he recalled. “Not pointed at me, but out of their holster ready to do something. It’s the comments that they made (afterwards) that piss me off the most.

‘Can you afford this car? This is a nice car.’

And I said, ‘Yes, sir, I can.’ What I wanted to say is, ‘Yeah, I’ll (buy) you one on Monday, I’ll (buy) your momma one on Tuesday and I’ll have the rest of your family one on Wednesday. That’s how much money I make.’

“But I didn’t. I let it go because one wrong move, because I’m black, could have had me on the pavement saying, ‘I can’t breathe.'”

Germain Racing driver Ty Dillon also spoke eloquently in the aftermath of Floyd’s death, posting a statement on Instagram that said in part, “I never want to be seen as someone who is silent on the subject of racism and social injustice.

“I don’t care if I ever win a race or a championship in my life, or lose every follower or sponsor that I have,” he said. “But when my children grow older and I take my last breath, I want to be sure that I was on the right side of what I felt is going on in history. I just wanted to stop and say, `This is where I stand.’ At the end of the day, this is what I believe in and I’ll stand up for what I believe in.’”

Dillon and Wallace also co-hosted a 30-minute Instagram Live conversation, discussing the state of race relations in the United States.

“I’ve known (Bubba) my whole career,” said an emotional Dillon. “To hear the stories about how he was treated in some of those situations -- knowing Bubba’s character and knowing him as a human being -- that blew my mind. I never thought Bubba would have gone through anything like that.

“Sometimes, it’s easy for us who don’t know -- as a white man or a white person in general -- we don’t know these stories. We don’t ask the right questions to become informed. We all need to have conversations in our communities to create change.”

Phelps’ pre-race statement Sunday was sure to produce a reaction, and it has.

"I will listen and learn..."

The social media response simultaneously illustrated the best and worst that our fan base has to offer. The vast majority of reaction was supportive of the sanctioning body, but there were other, more vitriolic responses that illustrated just how far we have to go as a nation, and as a sport.

The events of the last two weeks have been both tragic and horrifying. The slaying of George Floyd and the protests that followed have sent this country into a tailspin, forcing mangy of us to re-evaluate our personal stands on racism and discrimination.

Until recently, it has been fairly easy for many of us to remain on the sidelines, saying little or nothing about a situation that did not directly affect us.

Raised in the second-whitest state in the Union, I grew up with very little understanding of what it is like to be a person of color in the United States of America. I grew up – quite literally – with ONE black friend, and only after I moved south a decade or so ago did I come to appreciate the true depth of the divide between races in this county.

The only time I’ve ever been pulled over by the police was when a heavy right foot caused me to stray slightly (or not so slightly) above the posted speed limit. Never – not once – did the police officer in question feel the need to have his finger on the trigger of a gun, or comment on whether I should have been able to afford the car I was driving at the time.

No traffic stop has ever caused me to fear for my life. I have never lost a single minute of sleep worrying that my daughters might be shot on their way home from work one evening, simply because of the color of their skin, or because they strayed into a neighborhood where someone felt they did not belong.

Until any those things happen to me, I am wholly disqualified to preach tolerance and patience to the African American community. Until those things happen to me, I have no business criticizing Olympic athletes Vincent Matthews and Wayne Collett for raising their gloved fists in protest on the medal podium at the 1972 Summer Games. I have no right to look down upon Muhammad Ali for refusing to go to Vietnam and fight for a country that treated him like a second-class citizen. And I have no place denouncing Colin Kaepernick for taking a knee on the NFL sideline.

After refusing to pay attention to those (and thousands of other) peaceable, passive protests, can we honestly be surprised when certain segments of the African American community grow frustrated and become violent?

I have come to understand that we cannot.

There are some bad cops in the world. The events of the last few weeks have provided far more evidence of that fact than any reasonable observer could possibly require. If you continue to deny the existence of racist cops, you’re simply not paying attention. There are also some bad protestors out there; people willing to turn a peaceful demonstration into an opportunity to loot, burn and line their pockets under the cover of righteous indignation.

But the vast majority of people – on both sides of the picket line – are good people; people with hearts free of hate and discrimination, determined to do things the right way. If you’re willing to look past the fiery headlines and hardline clichés, you’ll see hundreds of cops taking a knee to decry the brutality within their own ranks. You’ll see protesters standing with their arms linked together, protecting a policeman separated from his unit and threatened by the angry mob. You’ll see athletes like Lebron James, Evander Kane, Bubba Wallace and Ty Dillon, speaking out against inequality despite the backlash that most certainly will follow from the darkest corners of our society.

It’s time for us to follow their leads and take a firm and righteous stand against the racists, the haters, the discriminators, murderers and looters among us. It’s time we take the spotlight away from the corrupt minority and focus on the rest us, the ones who understand that there is only one race -- the human race – and are no longer willing to tolerate people who judge each other solely by the color of their skin, or their uniform.

This is not a “one side or the other” argument. It is possible to be staunchly pro-Law Enforcement while still decrying the “Thin Blue Line” mentality that has prompted far too many good cops to turn their heads when their colleagues act badly. It is possible to support the African American communities right to protest while still bemoaning the destruction of businesses owned by people innocent of any wrongdoing.

Nobody is “all right” these days, and nobody is “all wrong.” There is room for improvement on all sides.

NASCAR’s Phelps was spot-on yesterday in his call for change, and his words needed to be heard from a sport that has spent far too much time over the years huddled – like many of us – on the sidelines of a battle that did not seem to be ours to fight. There have been a few “shut up and race” reactions from people unwilling (or too ignorant) to honestly assess the way this country continues to do business, but those reactions are like the last brittle leaves on a dying tree, about to be swept away – one by one – by the undeniable winds of change. 

The time for silent support has passed. It’s time for us to rethink old thoughts, re-examine old attitudes and begin treating each other like the one unified family we should always have been.

It’s time to stop responding to the plea of “Black Lives Matter” with the paper-thin meme of “All Lives Matter.”

Yes, all lives do matter. But when your neighbor’s house is burning down, all houses don’t require the immediate assistance of the Fire Department.

The African American community is ablaze today, and after nearly 250 years as One Nation Under God, it’s time for us to something about it, once and for all.