Maybe Tomorrow We'll All Wear 42

What an amazing man Jackie Robinson was.  What an amazing strength of character. And how sad it was and how sad it is that what he did was such an accomplishment. Don't mistake me. I think Jackie Robinson was one of the greatest Americans to have ever lived, and one of the greatest players to ever play the game. What he did, what he accomplished, and the manner in which he did so was nothing short of admirable. The tragedy lies in that it was a feat to overcome. I'm not here to rewrite history. I'm well aware of the way the world is and the way the world was and has been. Why does hate exist? Well, every thing must have it's opposite. Love and hate. The question for me is, why do we as a human race let hate define us. Why do we direct hate towards each other? And not just hate but such deep-seeded loathing. Over such ...I don't even know the word ... irrelevant things.  It seems so easy now, so clear cut. Of course it's silly to have a separate entrance to a ballpark for each color of skin. But not then. And for so many in the world it does not seem silly to write off, to loathe, and to ruthlessly persecute masses of human beings on the basis of race. Religion. Gender. Sexual orientation.

As I sat in the movie 42 tonight in honor of Jackie Robinson Day, I felt as though I was being slapped. Each slur that was said, each mistreatment represented was a shock to me as a woman in today's society. I know this is the way it was and yet I can't help but think how ridiculous and utterly stupid people sounded when they said such hateful things about another human being simply because he was black. How silly they sounded and how ...again there is no adequate word ...pretentious they seemed for thinking they were superior to any other human being on this planet. I wondered if people today who protest such things in such grotesque displays of humanity's worst traits will realize how ridiculous they will sound in fifty or sixty years.

In a day filled with so much hate, on a day when parents are mourning the loss of a child, a brother, a friend, and even unknown persons after the terrorist attack in Boston, on such a day I ask myself why. April 15, 1947 Jackie Robinson became the first African-American major league baseball player to take the field on opening day with the Brooklyn Dodgers. Sixty-six years ago today. Eighty-two years after the end of the civil war. And seventeen long years before the Civil Rights Act. And still today this senseless hatred exists. It blows my mind. It's all so ...senseless.

Today may we look upon examples from the past. May we love a little more, hate a little less. I say Thanks to you Jackie Robinson. Thank you for having the courage to stand up and stand strong in the face of senseless wrong. Thank you for having the guts to put on your uniform with your number on your back and do what you loved every day. Thank you for having the courage to stare down an opposing pitcher and man filled with loathing toward you and ask "What are you afraid of?"  What are we afraid of? What are we afraid being accepting of others and loving our fellow human beings -label free -what are we afraid is going to happen if we do that?

Near the end of the movie Dodger's shortstop PeeWee Reese put his arm around Jackie Robinson in the center of the baseball diamond in Cincinnati. The crowd became enraged. Jackie asked "What are you doing?"  Reese replied, "I've got family here. I need them to know what I'm about. Who I am." Reese thanked Robinson for being the man that he was and then said, "Maybe tomorrow we can all wear 42 and they won't be able to tell us apart."  April 15, 2004 made Reese appear prophetic. It was a long over-due tomorrow, but beginning that day each year on April 15 every baseball player in the Major Leagues wears number 42 in honor of the man himself. The only number to be retired by all of baseball. Maybe tomorrow we'll all wear 42. Maybe tomorrow we'll realize that we're all the same. May tomorrow be today.

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