Guest Post: Asking the story, or telling the questions?

Dane here: an anonymous contributor wanted to submit their thoughts on the recent outing of Jason Collins, the NBA player. The author concludes that this story is an example of the media framing, and thus making, the news instead of being passive reporters. Give it a read, it's posted below. 

By now you’ve heard the first-hand account. You can probably quote it yourself. “I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay.” That was the monumental announcement from Washington Wizards’ reserve center Jason Collins, as he stepped out of the closet and into the spotlight as The Big Four’s first openly-gay male athlete. That was the quote printed in Sports Illustrated that had news outlets heralding the arrival of a historic day, one that had been long in the making, one which American culture had been slowly striving toward. And there’s no doubt that for Collins, today is historic. He mustered the courage to come forward and say, “This is who I am, take it or leave it” – no small feat for anyone, regardless of sexual orientation, race, creed, gender, etc. – and his decision is admirable. But I can’t help wondering about the forces at work behind his announcement.

Before we go any further, let me make one thing clear: I am in no way suggesting Jason Collins’ coming-out is in any way an attention-grabber, a money-maker, an opportunistic answer to the call of narcissism, or anything other than one man’s honesty about himself, and with himself, laid bare. It’s crucial to approach this argument with that in mind. Are we good? Can we breathe? Great. Let’s explore.

I want to go back to that quote, that one we all know by heart. That snappy epiphany with the easy rhythm. It’s pretty profound, it’s got a groove. And I hope you like it, because you’ll be seeing a lot of it in the days and months to come. “I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay.” It’s got ‘headline’ written all over it. And already, it’s the de facto epithet for Collins’ big announcement. News of his newly-come-to-light sexual orientation broke shortly before noon on Monday, April 29^th. By the time I drove home only a few hours later, the phrase had been beaten into my head, writ bold in online publications, plastered across lower-thirds on the cable newscasts, trumpeted on the radio talk shows. The banner was flying. The message was clear: Collins’ triumph is our triumph.

Ours. Right. Let’s define “ours.” Is it a triumph of the people? Well, it can’t be all people, because I’ll admit my first reaction when I read the announcement wasn’t one of triumph. And it wasn’t one of catharsis. Like I said, I admired Collins’ decision, and I most certainly respected it, but the truth is, it has zero bearing on my life. I’m a straight male, and I’m certainly not the sportiest, so I’m sure you can say I don’t understand what it’s like to live your life with a giant secret; to live your life in fear of what others might think of you since you’re “outside the norm,” whatever the norm may be anymore – and you’re right. I don’t know what it’s like. I can’t speak to the insecurities so many people live with each day. But I’m not trying to, because that’s not the point. The point is that this sense of triumph being put on parade is an exhalation of relief for the media, because at last the prophecy is come true. Our gay athlete is here, and the prodigal son is returned.

Overly cynical, conspiracy theorist, whack job – plenty of like phrases are applied if people take an overly critical look at the media, especially in matters of popular social opinion. And there can be no equivocating on the fact that regardless of where you stand on the matter, gay rights are a driving cultural force in our country today. From politics and business to civil institutions and religion, the issue of homosexuals and their rights is changing the face of the United States. But it’s in this very issue I feel the media have forgotten their place. Social media, your Twitters and your Facebooks, need not apply here; that’s you speaking, not the fourth estate. I’m talking about the news media, what has ever been lauded as the staple of any lower-case “d” democratic society. If you take a look at the coverage leading to today’s announcement from Jason Collins, there can be little question his decision to open up about his sexuality was akin to a proxy outing on behalf of major news outlets. For months, it was said some such announcement was only a matter of time, that a gay athlete was sure to reveal himself in the coming months. The headlines read like some hack fortune-teller cobbling together a vision, the shapes in the swami’s crystal ball clouded by the mists of journalistic integrity. The vagaries, however, didn’t matter; the story practically wrote itself.

I can’t recall when exactly the buzz over the identity of the mystery gay athlete began taking shape. Not for a lack of research, I promise, but because the issue seems to have materialized from those same mists that kept the media from crafting an accurate, insightful narrative. Minnesota Vikings kicker Chris Kluwe has long spoken in favor of openly gay athletes, and has gone to extreme lengths to make his opinion known. But what sticks in my mind as the crystallizing point was the end of January 2013, when San Francisco 49ers cornerback Chris Culliver said gay players were not welcome on his team, or in professional football. Game time. Both sides of the story were on the record, and the box for the bare minimum of accuracy and fairness could now be checked with a clean conscience. It’s up, it’s good. And to a large extent the story was good – it was reportable, it was factual, and one could certainly make the argument for relevancy given how heavily gay rights play in our culture right now. But as the debate heated up, the tone changed. The media began posing more and more questions not to whether there was support for gay athletes – there was; the aforementioned Kluwe, for one, the Ravens Brendan Ayanbedajo for another, heck, a full 22 athletes speaking in support of any closeted players – but when those gay players were going to come out. “Magic Johnson, Mark Cuban agree on support of gay athletes,” read the LA Times on April 5, 2013 ("’If that ever happened, I would support them 150 percent,’ Johnson said when asked what he'd do if a player on the Dodgers announced that he was gay.”). “Leagues prepare for day when gay athlete comes out,” says USA Today on April 11 (“The day is coming when that will happen, maybe even some day soon). The Huffington Post grabbed viewers with its story boasting Nike’s quest to give an endorsement deal to the first openly gay athlete.

And there they were. The pieces that not only postulated as to the presence of a gay athlete, but every-so-carefully stayed just a few words short of promising one. Behind all these stories, that niggling message to any gay athlete was one of a culturally-driven voyeur show. Step forward, we want to see your face, those stories said. Hurry it up, we want to show how much we support you, they cried. Come out, come out, whoever you are.

The implications of this are startling. To want something is one thing. To craft an outcome is another. I’ve noticed a growing backlash – among my friends, among my family, among the back-and-forth on the same social media sites I was quick to spurn – against this selective cherry-picking of stories. I’m loath to use the word agenda; not only because it immediately shuts down any capacity for critical thought, but because it’s a false flag. Few are the respectable news outlets who are out to “get anyone,” no matter what anyone of one political bent or the other says. But I’ve found a swell in the consensus that there’s an emergent narrative, a creation – intentional or otherwise – of the same story those outlets are meant to cover.

The media was looking for Jason Collins, and in doing so they forgot their role to ask the questions and then to tell the story.  Whether that impacted today’s announcement from Collins is something that’s far too soon to say. Collins took the first step today in a long journey shared by people across the United States, and across the world. For many, it’s a journey shared in secret, maybe even one shared in solitude. I just hope he took this step today because in his heart, he felt it was time; and not because someone else felt it was time in theirs.