Did Anyone Mention that they're Black?

Unless you’ve been living in a cave, you’re no doubt aware that the Super Bowl was last Sunday. I know, I know… you’re thinking “Oh shit, another idiot thinks he’s a Monday morning quarterback.” Let me set your mind at ease right now. I’m not a hard core football fan, so I’m certainly not qualified to spend a lot of time dissecting the game. Instead of talking about the game, I’d like to discuss the coaches… you know, the two guys that coordinated the teams… the two guys that happened to be black.

Based on what I read on the internet, heard on the radio, and saw on TV, it’s my understanding that this is the first time a black coach has made it to the Super Bowl, and it’s cert-diddly-ertain-ly the first time that two black coaches went head to head in the Super Bowl. Gentlemen, congratulations on your achievement.

That said though, who cares if they’re black? Look, from my perspective, these guys are two brilliant coaches who happen to have to have skin that’s darker than mine; they’re not black guys that happen to be much better at coaches than me. This is America folks. We shouldn’t be spending all of this time crowing about how the black man has come so far in society that he can coach a Super Bowl team. We shouldn’t need to celebrate Black History Month, and we shouldn’t need Affirmative Action laws. We shouldn’t need these things, but we do.

As I say this, I will concede that I’m aware of racial differences. I’m aware when I’m talking to a black man that he’s black, just like I’m aware when talking to a woman that she’s female, just like I’m aware that my boss is Korean. Being aware of it doesn’t change how I react to that individual. What matters is the person, not the attributes that make up that person.

I think this is what people like Martin Luther King were looking for. I don’t think they want me to forget that they’re black (or Hispanic or whatever). In fact, I suspect they’d think I was a little odd if I didn’t notice. They just want the same chance to live the American dream that I have. One day, I hope that Black History month goes away. I hope that heartwarming stories about minorities overcoming immense obstacles disappear. I hope that Affirmative Action evaporates. I don’t want this because of a desire to preserve the status quo; I want it because I hope that one day racism, like the buggy whip, will become obsolete.

Remember, the coaches were not black men who happened to be great coaches, they were coaches who happened to be black.