To My Black Heritage

To MY black heritage,

You are everything to me. When I was asked to write this piece, my initial thought was “no way”.  You, MY black heritage, are deeply personal and I don’t share you with just anybody. But as I write this piece from 30,000 miles up in the sky on an airplane with tears in my eyes, I’m reminded of how you’ve impacted my journey from that little boy in the DMV who dreamed of playing college basketball to the man, husband, and father I am today.  To really know me is to know you.  Leon Butler, you showed me the way.  You showed me what real manhood is…how to provide, how to protect, how to love, how to discipline, and how to serve.  Valerie Butler, thank you for instilling confidence in me that can never be broken.

Thank you both for showing me that the world doesn’t owe me anything. Thank you for showing me that I’m different.  Thank you for showing me that because of my skin color, I’ll be held to a higher standard. I’ll be judged differently.  At times, the deck will be stacked against me. But because of you, I’m built for it! I don’t need to adjust my grammar, behavior, or appearance to make others around me feel comfortable.  I don’t need to turn down my swag.  I can be unapologetically me and that is good enough.

Grandma Virgie, I miss you. It still feels like yesterday when I found out that you left us.  We had just finished basketball practice when I was playing at the University of Miami. First thing I always did when I got to my locker was checked my phone.  That’s when I saw the message.  You taught me to put my faith in God. You taught me forgiveness and extending grace to others.  About 10 years ago, I was on a committee with several colleagues from around the country. We had spoken on the phone multiple times and exchanged numerous emails before we all met in person.  When we finally met, I was greeted by one of them with “I thought you were an old white guy” because of the profile they associated with someone that had my role in the organization. Thank you, Grandma, for preparing me for moments like that.

Grandma Eleanor, I miss you. When I was in college, you called me every Sunday morning at 9am to check on me, tell me you loved me, and our calls always ended with you telling me “Don’t forget to pray”.  You woke me up a lot of mornings, but I would do anything to get a call from you this Sunday.  You were strong and bold.  You said what was on your mind and you could not care less what anyone thought.  You prepared me to sit at a table of decision makers that typically look nothing like me and not be intimidated.  You prepared me to speak up confidently when I have something to say. 

To my grandfathers I never met, I hope I make you proud. 

Aunt Rea and Uncle Ed, it’s been almost 20 years since you left but I drove by your house on Dunbar Street back in 2021 just to reminisce on the good times.  Whenever I showed up at your crib in my Little League uniforms, you made me feel like a star.  It’s my personal mission to pay that forward.  You are the reason I cherish the opportunity to complement our young people, so they know that they’re seen, heard, and that they matter. 

Aunt Peggy, you were one of one.  Through all the sickness, you always had a smile.  You showed me that life is not so much what happens to you but how you respond to it.  When I hear them say “he only got the job because he’s black” (yes, I’ve literally heard that), I don’t let the negativity win.  I will continue to show up every day to serve and advocate for ALL student-athletes, regardless of their race. 

I want the next generation to realize there is no limit to what we can accomplish.  We should chase our dreams boldly and confidently because we are made for greatness. 

So Happy Black Heritage Month.  Without you there’s no me.  I salute you this month and every month!

Love,

Lee