Planting Flags. Telling Stories.
I want to start by saying I know that I am not invisible.
I know that you are not invisible.
But I do know how frustrating it is to go through life or a career being treated that way.
I woke up one morning ahead of Memorial Day weekend ready to execute the idea I’ve had percolating in my head for months: a virtual garage sale.
You see, in March Berkeley shut down, padlocked the track, and locked the gym. I knew that I’d have to find a different track (not difficult in the Bay Area) but that I’d have to build my gym.
I walked out into the garage with a piping hot cup of coffee- I dare not face that scene without caffeine courage.
Row after row of boxes both unopened and not greeted me judgmentally. It was May, I moved here in October- these boxes still hadn’t been dealt with.
For six months I lived unaffected by the content of those boxes. And so, with the urgency that I would now need this space to create a garage gym I began to go through them.
I discovered that my emotional ties to a lot of the items contained in those boxes were weakened or severed completely. I also knew how important or cool those items would be to other people.
I thought, I wish I could have a garage sale- but I can’t because of this pandemic. But just as quickly I had an opposing thought- no I can pull this off. I already have a website, an e-commerce platform, and a shipping system in place (all of which I built myself btw). All I’d really need to do is inventory, photograph, and list.
As I have it set up each purchase produces a unique order number, and confirmation page that I could print, and from a different computer I could print the shipping labels, gather the packages into boxes and mailers and either drop them off at the post office or arrange for pickup.
I announced the sale on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. Chuck settled in to a rhythm at the little writing desk in my room and when I brought him items I wanted to part with he photographed, wrote the description, and set the price.
It was a crazy few days.
I made almost $15,000 from my garage sale AND I still have all of my medals, all of my competition uniforms that I won said medals in, my podium uniforms, bibs, and all of the spikes worn for each final.
I also have my memories.
But most importantly, my garage sale was an inspiring event. I got letters and emails from people who now owned pieces of my journey- with messages about how they will be reminded to keep going, or reminded of their own strength, or of a good memory when they look at it.
Like the diamond league trophy.
You know where it is?
Helsinki, Finland.
Helsinki is the place where my career truly began in the long jump. You know why this is cool? Because shortly after my Helsinki World Championship win, I lost my mojo- and by extension my ability to jump. I would eventually find it again when I returned to the long jump 9 years later when I won the diamond league trophy in the long jump in 2014.
My FIRST Diamond League trophy, traveled across the Atlantic to the site of my FIRST World Championship medal.
I was moved by the poetic justice in this. And the emails from the person who purchased it made my heart soar.
I also fielded messages from my peers, like “whoa! Should I maybe try this?” Sandi Morris was one of these people, I answered her questions about logistics, explained how I did it, and I was honestly really excited to see her post her own garage sale with the help of Athlete’s Biz.
And hers too was successful, and I’m happy for her. And I told her that after it happened a few weeks ago.
And then two days ago I saw this on Twitter, published to the NBC Olympics page:
And then this:
This brief mention, makes me imagine that she was asked how she came up with the idea. And that she said she got it from me, and that the journalist then maybe said, “oh, anyway about YOUR garage sale..” And the conversation moved on. To be clear, I’m not mad at Sandi (ask her). Just a little disappointed. And not with her, with the larger phenomenon that our stories are out here- and that they aren’t being told or shared.
Sure, it wasn’t an article about me.
But it was an article about my idea, and although my idea was executed by someone besides me, it was my creativity that inspired this. It would have felt good for the writer to ask me about it, or to have followed the thread of how ALL OF US are out here being creative to manage training and uncertainty during the pandemic.
But anyway, I know I’m not invisible, I know that my voice and my ideas, and my creativity are important to a lot of people…
But I find it exasperatingly sad that for a little while during this pandemic as racial tensions erupted yet again we’ve heard people chanting
AMPLIFY their voices!
AMPLIFY their stories!!
We’ve seen people with platforms turn over their instagram accounts, invite guest bloggers, do lives, and co-host workshops.
AMPLIFY THEM! They say.
Be seen, take up space they say…
And yet…here we are- our stories beyond race are still being largely overlooked and ignored.
It happens all the time, it’s been happening forever-inventions of enslaved peoples were claimed by the men and women who enslaved them. We have plenty of examples from the music industry, Elvis Presley was controversially given a lot of credit for a genre he didn't create (and I’m a fan of Elvis thanks to my father). Nickelodeon just ripped off creator Matthew Cherry’s “Hair Love” for their new cartoon called “Made by Maddie”. They happily posted in solidarity with black lives matters and also happily stole and plagiarized an entire show from a black creator. Why don’t we care about these stories??? Why won’t the “creator” of the Nickelodeon show say how much she loved “Hair Love” and was influenced by it for her show? Why will the writers break their necks to talk to her about her ground-breaking show and not take even a sideways glance at the man who actually did it first?
And even though this is a post about a garage sale and how mine wasn’t reported on but Sandi’s was— is nowhere near as important or as big or as serious as any of the aforementioned examples I wish we all cared more about giving credit where credit is due- to our teachers, our influences, our muses, in order to make sure that none of our stories, effort, and excellence gets overshadowed by our propensity to simply curate the stories we want to hear and tell.
Yep, I pulled off a Virtual Garage Sale in May over Memorial Day Weekend- a patriotic holiday that served as a perfect back drop for a Team USA themed event. And in June and July I wrote my heart out (did you know I was featured in the LA Times, the Washington Post, the Irish Times, the New York Times in the same month) my commentary on race, rule 50, the IOC, protesting, were highly sought after.
That’s not to mention the dozens of podcasts I’ve done while on lockdown too. I’ve done so many that one of my followers sent me this message:
congratulations! I listened to every podcast you’ve done and I can now recite your origin story by heart! Can you maybe ask them to ask you different questions on the next one?
But guess what I have been doing and continue to do in addition to being black, and in addition to being an athlete?
I teach a donation based yoga class every Saturday morning. Is your yoga teacher a reigning Olympic Champion?
I held a creative writing contest to give people a moment of escapism and some cash.
I created the Sip Sis Social Club that offered two meetings times a week for women to come together, and talk to each other about whatever we wanted- without fear and without judgment and with support.
I have a book club that I created two years ago that meets every Sunday.
I’m hosting a “Paint and Sip” later this month led by my sister Stina Aleah who’s an internationally known oil painter.
I wrote HomeWork- a 5-part program that will help ANYONE navigate this pandemic physically AND mentally.
And unless you heard it from me- you probably wouldn’t have heard it at all.
And as important as it is to grab your own story by the reigns, to write it, to narrate it, to tell it- we need others to tell our stories too…
To consistently do for us, exactly what was so popular to do on Instagram just two months ago: Amplify our voices and stories…ESPECIALLY when you are presented with an opportunity to do so.
PARTICULARLY when you have the platform to do so.
So let me show you what some of my friends are up to….because it’s both an honor and my privilege to do so.
Bloggers Note: The other day I was part of a panel for a Women’s Empowerment and we shared how often we are acting as if we are in competition with one another. The scarcity mindset is an illusion. There’s more than enough for all of us. And when you truly believe this collaboration becomes exciting rather than threatening. It’s why I have no problem answering the how can I jump farther, run faster, pull off a garage sale questions. What’s for me, will be for me. And since we all know we don’t “make it” alone to tell the stories of the people who help propel us forward doesn’t mean you’re somehow less than. It means you’re human.
The title of this post comes from the term “flag-planting” which means to take ownership of something. I have slightly negative associations with the word ie. Christopher Columbus, colonialism, etc. But it isn’t actually a negative term. The point of this post isn’t to be negative either, the point of this post is this: a rising tide should lift all boats. Let’s not continue to miss opportunities to elevate each other. So we can plant the flags together.