Win or Lose; The Rules Are Different for Black Women
I don’t pretend to be an NCAA enthusiast, but like most Black women I’m well-versed on the double standards we face at nearly every stage of our lives, particularly if the stage is a national one. One would expect the big story to be a Women’s NCAA Championship yielding a record-breaking 9.9 million viewers as the Tigers captured their first National Championship in school history. Or, that LSU also set the championship game record for most points scored, with 102 points. Maybe even an upset spin with Angel Reese aka Bayou Barbie in the middle of a Cinderella story. Instead, America’s umbrella of racism and sexism has overshadowed history, and the media has latched onto the tired, trite reflex of making a victim where there is none by painting Angel Reese as a bully instead of a winner.
After an incredible March Madness showing by Iowa and Caitlin Clark, the Hawkeyes were defeated by the mostly Black LSU team in the big game on Sunday. Clark has been applauded for her competitiveness, fire, and leadership; her trash talk and taunting were seen as swag that she backed up on the court. Yet, while leading her team to the trophy, Reese engaged in the EXACT SAME actions as Clark and has been cursed out online by adult pundits and called just about everything but a child of God. We know why.
The rules are never the same for Black women. The bar, the scrutiny, and the expectations we face are always higher. To quote FINESSE2TYMES, “It’s cool when they do it, it’s a problem when I do it.” To bash Reese’s well-earned bravado after making LSU sports history and racking up double-doubles in all six games and breaking the single-season record with 34, is ludicrous. What did they expect her to do, curtsy?
There’s a lot that’s problematic about the social media hot takes and journalistic fallout following the LSU win and Reese/Clark hypocrisy. How disappointing that a spectacular moment for college basketball and women in sports became about anything other than the game. In a world where professional female basketball players are underpaid and poorly supported, two young stars faced off in arguably the best game of the tournament across genders, and folks are out here policing trash talk and manufacturing “girl drama.”
Angel Reese, a college kid, is getting bashed by 64-year-old Keith Olbermann in words more harsh and hateful than anything she’s uttered. Male athletes curse, spit and fight at play and in practice. Some engage in reckless, abusive, and at times unlawful activities off-court. The media coverage, the adulation, and what is expected and accepted are in stark contrast for men and women.
As a sophomore at LSU with 2 remaining years of eligibility, Reese, who is Black, silenced Clark - her long-time rival on the court, in the biggest of big games. She didn’t defer to the feelings of her defeated opponent in the wake of a win. Something Clark, who is White, should know all about given her jab at Louisville’s Hailey Van Lit, “You’re down by 15 points. Shut up.” in the Final Four round. Reese also repeated the same “you can’t see me” hand gesture Clark previously enacted. Apples to apples.
To be fair to Caitlin Clark, she hasn’t made any public criticism of Angel Reese. I’m sure it was a crushing loss, but it seems that she’s got heart and understands the passion and confidence of competitors in high-level, high-stakes games. She’s not even crying, but the social programming immediately kicked in ready to wipe her White tears. Microaggressions on a macro scale via Twitter with racism as the baseline. When race, respectability (in this case its code word is sportsmanship), and gender converge, up is down and equity is out the door.
The lopsided response to Reese’s victory reminded me of how Angela Bassett’s reaction to her Best Supporting Actress loss was criticized. Bassett is an A-list actor, a literal Queen in our eyes. Timeless roles over more than 30 years yet snubbed by the Academy again and again. During the 2023 Oscars in the seconds following her loss to vintage “nepo baby” Jaime Lee Curtis, Bassett was still, stoic, and presumably disappointed. No fake smile to mask her hurt and no performative applause. She sat in her moment, authentic to her experience. Bassett was subsequently chided online and in the industry for her “lack of professionalism.”
Spectators want us to be gracious losers and humble winners when we are human first and always. Tempering our emotions, our pride, and our pain, is a disservice to ourselves, but that is what America expects of us. To appease the spoiled status quo instead of standing for what’s true and real for us.
It should be unbelievable and easily observed as unfair, but it’s not. The misassumptions of class and worthiness, the disdain for Black prowess, the diminishing of Black joy and accomplishment, the typical White woman tears narrative is sadly typical. As Black women, we expect the reaction to victory that Reese received and we steel ourselves against it, so the shock of hate only lasts a moment, because for us it’s everyday territory. We deftly navigate to avoid the landmines that trigger inferiority, envy, and resentment all of the time. Until we don’t. Until we decide we won’t.
Then we celebrate. We own our greatness. We don’t shrink or assuage. And usually, a whole section of folks get mad about it. Everyone needs to remember that when Black women win, it’s not magic. It’s hard work, grit, guts, and sacrifice. Eventually, you tire of people thinking it’s easy, just because we make it look that way. You stand on what you’ve earned, bragging rights and all. To succeed something extra is always required from us, so damn right you’re going to get a little extra when we come out on top.