Tearing up my Terrible Towel
I took a Terrible Towel with me to Malaysia. That is not surprising, I grew up in Pittsburgh and I was raised to love sports. The big 2 anyway. I became a hockey fan a bit in high school (Actually I had a crush on the manager of the hockey team. Yes that’s correct, the manager).
When I went to teach in Kuala Lumpur from 2011-2013, I knew I had to take very little with me. I believe I took two suitcases. In one of those bags was a Terrible Towel.
But more than that, when I went to Borneo, to explore ancient vast caves, hike through the jungle, tour the forest canopy and canoe down tropical rivers to meet Indigenous peoples - I brought my Terrible Towel.
I posed for a photo with said towel in one of the largest caves in Borneo, greatly disturbing a Baltimore Ravens fan who yelled “You just ruined this trip for me!” Well the Malaysian National Park service should have checked to see who was on this tour together. I could have told them not to put a Steeler and Ravens fan on the same tour. Duh.
Well that was then, then slowly like a romance dying I had to stop. Story after story of abuse of women made me think, wait a minute, they don’t care anything about me. Why should I care about them?
But I kept watching. Then I did not. I cannot remember the straw that broke the lady camel’s back but one day I just stopped. I could not cheer for someone who hated me.
Once the police brutality protests started I had long long ago stopped watching the NFL. Seeing a mainly white audience watching Black and Brown perform for them, run for them, hurt for them - I just could not watch anymore. And I don’t.
This week, after the NFL’s new national anthem policy, my decision to breakup with the NFL is confirmed, again. My only hope is that the Black players and anyone else who cares about freedom will stand up, sit down, and kneel. To sit it out and just shut it down.
When I went to teach in Kuala Lumpur from 2011-2013, I knew I had to take very little with me. I believe I took two suitcases. In one of those bags was a Terrible Towel.
But more than that, when I went to Borneo, to explore ancient vast caves, hike through the jungle, tour the forest canopy and canoe down tropical rivers to meet Indigenous peoples - I brought my Terrible Towel.
I posed for a photo with said towel in one of the largest caves in Borneo, greatly disturbing a Baltimore Ravens fan who yelled “You just ruined this trip for me!” Well the Malaysian National Park service should have checked to see who was on this tour together. I could have told them not to put a Steeler and Ravens fan on the same tour. Duh.
Well that was then, then slowly like a romance dying I had to stop. Story after story of abuse of women made me think, wait a minute, they don’t care anything about me. Why should I care about them?
But I kept watching. Then I did not. I cannot remember the straw that broke the lady camel’s back but one day I just stopped. I could not cheer for someone who hated me.
Once the police brutality protests started I had long long ago stopped watching the NFL. Seeing a mainly white audience watching Black and Brown perform for them, run for them, hurt for them - I just could not watch anymore. And I don’t.
This week, after the NFL’s new national anthem policy, my decision to breakup with the NFL is confirmed, again. My only hope is that the Black players and anyone else who cares about freedom will stand up, sit down, and kneel. To sit it out and just shut it down.
Comments
Post a Comment