I'm a 34-year-old NBA center. I'm black. And I'm gay. I didn't set out to be the first openly gay athlete playing in a major American team sport. But since I am, I'm happy to start the conversation. I wish I wasn't the kid in the classroom raising his hand and saying, "I'm different." If I had my way, someone else would have already done this. Nobody has, which is why I'm raising my hand.
Interpretation
This quote reflects the courage it takes to embrace one's identity and break barriers in sports and society.
Jason Collins expresses his awareness of being a pioneer as the first openly gay athlete in a major American team sport. His statement highlights the difficulties of being different and the desire for a supportive environment where individuals do not have to feel isolated for their identities. By raising his hand, he symbolizes the act of initiating an important conversation about acceptance and representation in sports.
In practice
In a speech about diversity in sports, one could quote Jason Collins to highlight the importance of acceptance.
I would love to see an athlete live their life in an authentic way, not feel that they have to hide, not feel that they have to be afraid, or live with shame - all the other things that go with being a closeted athlete. No human being should have to walk that path. But there is that fear of stepping forward.
The worst insult you can give a professional athlete is to call them soft. And the stereotype out there is that gay is soft.
The first relative I came out to was my aunt Teri, a superior court judge in San Francisco. Her reaction surprised me. 'I've known you were gay for years,' she said. From that moment on I was comfortable in my own skin.
For many young people growing up in minority communities, there is a sense that their lives are disposable. As athletes, we have a platform to let those kids know that their lives are important. That their lives matter to us.
Some people insist they've never met a gay person. But Three Degrees of Jason Collins dictates that no NBA player can claim that anymore. Pro basketball is a family. And pretty much every family I know has a brother, sister or cousin who's gay. In the brotherhood of the NBA, I just happen to be the one who's out.
My dream was to play in the NBA and live my authentic life as a proud gay man at the same time. I was able to accomplish both of those goals because of the people who have supported me throughout my life.
I still suffer terribly from stage fright. I get sick with fear. Not every night, but at the beginning and on occasion - not necessarily when I'm expecting it. You just have to cope with it - take it on the chin and work through it, trying to use the adrenalin to perform.
The only thing is I am a little bit ashamed of is I didn't come out earlier, that I didn't have the strength to do it, the courage to break that lie. But everyone goes on their own path to do this, and I don't want the struggle to be so hard for other people.
It is the first law of practical courage. To be in the weakest camp is to be in the strongest school.
Fortune sides with him who dares.
The experience I learned was that … if you leave decision to the public, you can be killed… I felt really violated: they cut my clothes, stuck rose thorns in my stomach, one person aimed the gun at my head, and another took it away. It created an aggressive atmosphere. After exactly 6 hours, as planned, I stood up and started walking toward the public. Everyone ran away, escaping an actual confrontation.
We were marooned in a frozen desert. There was not a sign of life on the horizon and a thousand signs of death... The marvel is we did not all die of cold.
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