I was in meditation this morning when God revealed a truth that I had not considered when writing that I would like to share. It is about how journalists--be it in sports or some other subject matter--perpetuate a narrative that detaches truth in hopes of a feel good story.

Using myself as an example, I've done pieces that highlight the triumphs of a Black athlete without proper historical context. Now while I am proud of the prose that some find uplifting, where I fail is my focusing in one individual as if his impoverished condition is unique.

Or worse yet, not pointing out that it is by design. When I do that, I am presenting a narrative that suggests it is singular when we know every significant socioeconomic metric informs us it is not. In fact we know from statistics that that athlete is part of a continuum.

The reality is we have always had examples of those who have "made it out". What we do a piss poor job of is explaining why for decades and decades, Black people have always had to escape in the first place. This is not to take away from the hope that story can provide.

I have been inspired by countless stories of this nature. But what I must do a better job of is explaining how the octopus that is systemic racism will use a tentacle or two to uplift as a distraction from the fact the rest of its limbs are suppressing. Choking. Killing.

My storytelling must cease in doing this. That's not to say I have no interest in highlighting the NFL player who overcame extreme poverty but rather time needs to be spent explaining why that story continues to be told, generation after generation in the world's richest country.

It is because he is not singular. It is because it is not an accident. It is because his story is not new. It is because while the names are different the narrative is not. This is how "the talk" can be both this country's longest running conversation and still not be heard.

At least not heard by the ones who need to hear it most. For while, Black people are the ones burdened to carry this dialogue, it is the willful ignorance of some of our white brothers and sisters that continuously make it impossible to lay that dialogue to rest.

In other words, there is no joy for us as a people to tell our children what awaits them but we fear what may happen if we don't. It is heartbreaking to tell our babies about this part of life in America but until it breaks the heart of white people, nothing will change.

And it is nearly impossible for this level of empathy to arrive if storytellers such as myself keep pushing the narrative of one person overcoming obstacles without acknowledging the real story, which is of a system placing those obstacles there in the first place.

Anyway, that was the revelation, the clarity God placed in my heart. Do with it what you may... as I will do with it what I must. Peace fam.