In my 8th grade year, I was really hype to play on this new basketball team; until the season began, and I realized my teammates weren’t exactly the best people.

When I was in 8th grade, I was about 13, going on 14. I tried out for  this travel basketball team. It was an AAU team, which is kind of an elite league to be in.  I felt good about it. At first, it seemed very fun, while also being challenging. I made the team after having tryouts at Full Blast downtown. The season started off very smooth, energetic and fun.  I didn’t really know anyone on the team, but I could tell we had a lot of talent and athleticism. This basketball season definitely seemed like one to look forward to. I was happy.

The outlook was good for me.  During one of the first practices, it was a cold winter day and I got to practice a little bit late. I started warming up with the team. They started making comments about me being late. Seemingly, just all in fun and games. It escalated to another level after that. It was first about me being late, then about my shirt, then it really escalated to a higher level. A level that would make ANYONE uncomfortable, no matter what the race of the person is.

My “teammates” started making comments about me being white. You know, the typical “white people can’t play” or “white people can’t jump,” stuff like that. Making me feel as if I was different than all of them. They would make derogatory comments about me. Call me names. Try pushing me around during drills or during intrasquad scrimmages. I just went along with it, not looking scared or weak. I laughed it off and tried playing it off like I was cool with them. Basically, they kept pushing my limits and testing my anger during the whole process.

It made me very upset, especially after practice. My mom could tell. She’d ask, “Are you okay? You seem upset,” among numerous other questions.

I finally decided to tell her.  “During the games, it’s not bad. We all get along. But in between games or at practice they try dogging me and other random people.”

She said “Maybe tell your coach?”

I didn’t like that idea.

“The coach will obviously say something, and then they’ll dog on me even more.”

I didn’t think telling Coach Mike was a good idea. He may be one of the coolest coaches I’ve had, but he couldn’t relate to me. I was the minority in that situation, being the only white person out of 14 kids and 4 coaches.

Closer to the end of the season, they just stopped messing with me and started messing with another kid, who was ALSO white and had joined the team a little late. His name was Ant and I definitely knew he felt the same way I did about the whole situation. “Dude has it always been like this?” Ant asked me.

I replied with “pretty much.”

He was the person I hung out with and related to the most.  Soon enough, after all the tournaments hours away, hard practices, and waiting in the cold for rides, walking through snow, etc. the season ended. To be quite honest, I had been looking forward to the end. I love basketball, but I was tired of constantly feeling like an outcast on a team that was supposed to treat each other like “brothers.”

A thought ran across my brain. I realized they probably do it to more people than just me, and that they weren’t good people; they were ignorant. I did tell my coach at the end of the season. “Coach Mike, I felt different. Like I didn’t belong.”

“I’m sorry, I had no clue anything like this was going on.” Coach Mike told me. 

It was one of the first times I’ve ever seen a black person be racist towards a white person, and it was especially crazy because it happened to me. It made my hate for racism even stronger, considering I had experienced it first hand. It’s so wrong to judge someone just because of their skin color.  

In a way, I can now relate to people who have experienced racism. No matter what race they were. I would NEVER treat anyone like that. Basketball is my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE thing to do in the world, and for people to be hateful and racist towards me, and make me feel like just quitting, isn’t fair. This memory in my life, this little series of events, has really opened my eyes. I always knew that NOBODY should go through this. Experiencing racism first hand is a whole different thing. It’s crazy, and unreal to think about. That’s how the world is.  This is how a lot of people are, and it’s just not fair to anyone.