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Even after Sunday’s loss, it’s impossible to watch Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton play football and not be enthralled. He is dynamic, versatile, and extremely talented. He is a showman who is not afraid to make himself the center of attention, from dancing after a score to posing on the sideline with rappers before the game starts. But to many, this showmanship is the subject of major criticism.
I find this whole phenomenon odd—I can see how his posing for a picture before a game might open him up to criticism not being “in the zone," but the critique of his celebrations seems baseless to me. It is harmless for a man to do a dance move after a first down, yet this exact behavior has spawned “think of the children” letters and the disdain of countless commentators. I have trouble comprehending how dancing ignites indignation in the 21st century.
By no means is Cam Newton above criticism. Newton was kicked out of the University of Florida for a string of disciplinary violations, has had a child out of wedlock with a former stripper, and allegedly sought a large sum of money for his playing services back in college. If we’re going to criticize Cam Newton as a role model, this is where the focus should be. Yet the discussion is invariably about his football-related behavior.
The Cam Newton character concern of the week is that he’s immature because he avoided questions and walked out of his post-Super Bowl interview. That’s probably because Denver Broncos cornerback Chris Harris was unintentionally taunting him from another podium. After the game, no one discussed how Newton graciously congratulated Peyton Manning on the field.
Regardless of whether he handled himself appropriately after the game, it is telling that Newton is indicted for reacting angrily to a sensitive subject while the same behavior is a non-issue for Tom Brady or Peyton Manning. Newton’s behavior is not substantively different from any other quarterbacks’. Yet he is the only one, besides Johnny Manziel, who takes such flak for his celebrations and trash talk.
Johnny Manziel, of course, receives as much criticism as Cam Newton, if not more. The crucial difference is that Newton is predominantly attacked for his in-game behavior, while Manziel’s personal life has come into question after a recent accusation of domestic violence. The only on-field behavior Manziel was critiqued for was his “money sign” back in college. But even that controversy stemmed from his off-field behavior, as it got its potency from accusations that he had taken money for autographs, which is not allowed under NCAA rules.
Ultimately, judgements of Newton’s behavior are influenced by an inherent racial bias that those who judge him do not understand, and that doesn’t just begin and end with Cam Newton. As coaches across America will say, football is so much more than a game, and the critique of Cam Newton is so much more than a critique of one football player. The critique of Cam Newton is a representation of inherently biased racial thought throughout America.
A white friend of mine taking time off from Harvard recently experienced a reaction opposite what Newton has received. Working an inventory job where no one in their wildest dreams would think that he goes to college, let alone Harvard, he was singled out and told that he has potential to “make something of himself” and rise in the company. My friend—the only white worker on a team of 20.
The troubling part is the fact that my friend was not singled out by someone who could accurately assess him. Rather, his complimenter had observed him at a distance for a day. Admittedly, my friend tells me that he’s not even one of the top five hardest workers in his team—that there is no reason that he should be selected as “able for more” out of the group. The only tangible difference between my roommate and his coworkers are his mannerisms and cultural background—certain nuances and behaviors that ingratiate him to the predominantly white management of the company.
While it’s impossible to know for sure, I can’t help wondering if the same bias that made my friend stand out over his white coworkers is at play in Cam Newton’s case. Through the treatment of Cam Newton, we can see how racial bias masquerades as concerns over character. The concern over Cam Newton is the on-field celebrations, not any of the off-field issues that provide material for more substantive concerns. Cam’s off-field behavior is accepted by the status quo, while his on-field behavior is a defiant act against it.
When Cam scores a touchdown and does his Superman dance move, he literally becomes superhuman, transcending the unintentional conditions of racism in America. Cam Newton is a black male unabashedly celebrating in a way that the system has so far rejected, a blemish to the traditionalist cult of football in America. But his transcendence of the system is solely for a moment. After he scores, he gives the ball to a kid in the stands, and since it’s the front row the kid is invariably white. Then he sits back down on the sideline, analyzes the film, and the attention shifts back to the game. The spectacle resumes.
Jamie C. Stewart '18 is a philosophy concentrator in Dunster House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.
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