Green Bay Packers and Racism
I know this story is getting old but with football season beginning soon, I thought it appropriate to bring this up now. This is one of 100 reasons I, a Bears fan, hate the Packers with a passion.
This story can be found in the Suntimes archives here.
A black-and-white matter
December 16, 2001
BY CAROL SLEZAK SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST
They only wanted to show their support for the Bears. But after a sobering 24 hours last weekend in Green Bay, Wis., Michele Ranger and Marsha Brawner wonder whether it was worth the cost.
They can rationalize the $2,000 they and their friends paid for six seats at Lambeau Field. They eventually will absorb the hotel bill, the food, the gas and the parking. But what's the price of pride? How much is dignity going for these days? What are feelings of self-worth worth?
Looking back, Ranger and Brawner feel naive. The African-American sisters--identical twins--are 37 years old. They spent most of their childhood in Rogers Park, a multicultural neighborhood on the North Side. They were taught to embrace diversity, and they always have. It came naturally to them. Their great-great-grandmother was white, and their extended family includes people of different races. When they were kids, they asked their mom whether they could attend the Hebrew school their best friend attended. Their mom liked the idea, and the sisters went to Hebrew school for part of a year until they no longer could afford the tuition. As you can see, the sisters aren't the type to dwell on skin color.
So last Sunday, when they went to breakfast in Green Bay and saw many other people get seated before their party of six, they waited patiently. And when they finally were seated but couldn't get their orders taken, they figured, “Hey, the restaurant is busy.” And when they finally got their orders--six identical egg dishes--taken, then waited an hour for their food to arrive, they figured at least the eggs would be steaming hot when they came. But when the eggs came to the table as cold as a Green Bay winter, they began to wonder whether something was up. They looked around and saw theirs were the only non-white faces in the restaurant. Still, they didn't want to think they were experiencing racial discrimination. “We blew it off as lousy service,” Ranger said. “Or the fact that we were wearing Bears colors.”
They stopped in a mall so Brawner could get a hat. Brawner picked up a red ski hat and asked the salesperson, a white woman, how much it cost. “You can't afford it,” the woman replied. Brawner asked again. The woman told her it was $12.99. Brawner handed her $14 and said, “Will this do?” “We started to feel uncomfortable,” Ranger said. “But we never thought it was about our color.” Never, even though they saw Packers colors everywhere they looked. Green, gold and white, emphasis on white.
According to 2000 U.S. census figures, in Brown County (population 226,778), where Green Bay sits, only 1.2 percent of the population is black.
They parked near Lambeau and walked to the stadium. Once inside, they realized they were being singled out for different treatment once again. And this time, they couldn't pretend it was happenstance. Not when they heard people shouting: “Niggers, go back to the projects where you're from.” In response, they kept walking. None of them said a word. Not to the Packers' fans, not to each other.
Four of their seats were in a skybox and two were on the 10-yard line. Brawner and three friends went to the skybox. Ranger and the other friend took the outdoor seats. Ranger was wearing a blue-and-orange Bears hat. She was carrying a teddy bear. She expected some ribbing for her Bears allegiance, even welcomed it. She didn't expect racial slurs, but that's what she got. Throughout the game, she and her friend were inundated with derogatory racial comments. They didn't ask security for help--in part because they didn't see any security people, in part because they just wanted to watch the game. But when her male friend left his seat with six minutes left, the people around Ranger--mostly men but some women, too--became more bold. “Give us that [teddy] bear,” she heard. “We're going to lynch it just like we used to lynch you.” “Take your ass home to the projects,” she heard. “Where'd you get those braids?” she heard, a reference to her hairstyle. “Can I buy some like those and put them on my head?” She also heard the n-word several times. How many times? She didn't keep track. “One time is too many,” she said.
She wanted to yell back. To tell them she lived in Skokie, not the projects--as if that should make a difference. To tell them they were a bunch of alcoholics because many of them were drunk. She wanted to yell, “Go back to your trailer park,” but that would have made her as bad as them.
“They cheered the black players on their team,” Ranger said. “But it's like they're using them, like racehorses.” At some point, another Bears fan--a white man--shouted at the Packers' fans to leave Ranger alone. It did no good. “I felt like I was at a Ku Klux Klan rally,” Ranger said. “The only difference was they weren't wearing robes.”
According to the Packers, Ranger's experience was not a typical Lambeau experience. Corporate security officer Jerry Parins was surprised to hear she had been racially harassed because the Packers never have received such a complaint. Parins is interested in following up on her allegations. “We don't feel this represents our fans at all,” spokesperson Aaron Popkey said. “Our goal is to provide a great atmosphere for all fans, even Bears fans.”
Up in the skybox, Brawner, wearing a Brian Urlacher jersey, enjoyed the game (if not the outcome). She was unaware of her sister's ordeal until they talked via cellphone while leaving the stadium. Then Ranger told Brawner they had to “hurry up and get out of here” because she was scared. At about that same time--and much to her relief--Ranger found the friend she had been sitting with. They made their way through the crowd together, as did Brawner and her skybox mates. “I was so glad I was with a group,” Brawner said. “You know what I feared? Walking through that town. I felt that had I been alone, someone would have grabbed me and ... thrown me somewhere.”
They made it home safely--Ranger to Skokie, Brawner to Evanston. They're back in their routines. But try as they might, they can't forget last weekend, which they refer to as their “nightmare in Green Bay.” “I didn't have to live through the civil-rights struggle,” Ranger said. “As a kid, I was blind. But to have it put back in your face like that, it lets you know racism is never really gone.”
This story can be found in the Suntimes archives here.
A black-and-white matter
December 16, 2001
BY CAROL SLEZAK SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST
They only wanted to show their support for the Bears. But after a sobering 24 hours last weekend in Green Bay, Wis., Michele Ranger and Marsha Brawner wonder whether it was worth the cost.
They can rationalize the $2,000 they and their friends paid for six seats at Lambeau Field. They eventually will absorb the hotel bill, the food, the gas and the parking. But what's the price of pride? How much is dignity going for these days? What are feelings of self-worth worth?
Looking back, Ranger and Brawner feel naive. The African-American sisters--identical twins--are 37 years old. They spent most of their childhood in Rogers Park, a multicultural neighborhood on the North Side. They were taught to embrace diversity, and they always have. It came naturally to them. Their great-great-grandmother was white, and their extended family includes people of different races. When they were kids, they asked their mom whether they could attend the Hebrew school their best friend attended. Their mom liked the idea, and the sisters went to Hebrew school for part of a year until they no longer could afford the tuition. As you can see, the sisters aren't the type to dwell on skin color.
So last Sunday, when they went to breakfast in Green Bay and saw many other people get seated before their party of six, they waited patiently. And when they finally were seated but couldn't get their orders taken, they figured, “Hey, the restaurant is busy.” And when they finally got their orders--six identical egg dishes--taken, then waited an hour for their food to arrive, they figured at least the eggs would be steaming hot when they came. But when the eggs came to the table as cold as a Green Bay winter, they began to wonder whether something was up. They looked around and saw theirs were the only non-white faces in the restaurant. Still, they didn't want to think they were experiencing racial discrimination. “We blew it off as lousy service,” Ranger said. “Or the fact that we were wearing Bears colors.”
They stopped in a mall so Brawner could get a hat. Brawner picked up a red ski hat and asked the salesperson, a white woman, how much it cost. “You can't afford it,” the woman replied. Brawner asked again. The woman told her it was $12.99. Brawner handed her $14 and said, “Will this do?” “We started to feel uncomfortable,” Ranger said. “But we never thought it was about our color.” Never, even though they saw Packers colors everywhere they looked. Green, gold and white, emphasis on white.
According to 2000 U.S. census figures, in Brown County (population 226,778), where Green Bay sits, only 1.2 percent of the population is black.
They parked near Lambeau and walked to the stadium. Once inside, they realized they were being singled out for different treatment once again. And this time, they couldn't pretend it was happenstance. Not when they heard people shouting: “Niggers, go back to the projects where you're from.” In response, they kept walking. None of them said a word. Not to the Packers' fans, not to each other.
Four of their seats were in a skybox and two were on the 10-yard line. Brawner and three friends went to the skybox. Ranger and the other friend took the outdoor seats. Ranger was wearing a blue-and-orange Bears hat. She was carrying a teddy bear. She expected some ribbing for her Bears allegiance, even welcomed it. She didn't expect racial slurs, but that's what she got. Throughout the game, she and her friend were inundated with derogatory racial comments. They didn't ask security for help--in part because they didn't see any security people, in part because they just wanted to watch the game. But when her male friend left his seat with six minutes left, the people around Ranger--mostly men but some women, too--became more bold. “Give us that [teddy] bear,” she heard. “We're going to lynch it just like we used to lynch you.” “Take your ass home to the projects,” she heard. “Where'd you get those braids?” she heard, a reference to her hairstyle. “Can I buy some like those and put them on my head?” She also heard the n-word several times. How many times? She didn't keep track. “One time is too many,” she said.
She wanted to yell back. To tell them she lived in Skokie, not the projects--as if that should make a difference. To tell them they were a bunch of alcoholics because many of them were drunk. She wanted to yell, “Go back to your trailer park,” but that would have made her as bad as them.
“They cheered the black players on their team,” Ranger said. “But it's like they're using them, like racehorses.” At some point, another Bears fan--a white man--shouted at the Packers' fans to leave Ranger alone. It did no good. “I felt like I was at a Ku Klux Klan rally,” Ranger said. “The only difference was they weren't wearing robes.”
According to the Packers, Ranger's experience was not a typical Lambeau experience. Corporate security officer Jerry Parins was surprised to hear she had been racially harassed because the Packers never have received such a complaint. Parins is interested in following up on her allegations. “We don't feel this represents our fans at all,” spokesperson Aaron Popkey said. “Our goal is to provide a great atmosphere for all fans, even Bears fans.”
Up in the skybox, Brawner, wearing a Brian Urlacher jersey, enjoyed the game (if not the outcome). She was unaware of her sister's ordeal until they talked via cellphone while leaving the stadium. Then Ranger told Brawner they had to “hurry up and get out of here” because she was scared. At about that same time--and much to her relief--Ranger found the friend she had been sitting with. They made their way through the crowd together, as did Brawner and her skybox mates. “I was so glad I was with a group,” Brawner said. “You know what I feared? Walking through that town. I felt that had I been alone, someone would have grabbed me and ... thrown me somewhere.”
They made it home safely--Ranger to Skokie, Brawner to Evanston. They're back in their routines. But try as they might, they can't forget last weekend, which they refer to as their “nightmare in Green Bay.” “I didn't have to live through the civil-rights struggle,” Ranger said. “As a kid, I was blind. But to have it put back in your face like that, it lets you know racism is never really gone.”
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