Last Friday, Feb. 26, the Yale Men’s Basketball team completed its first season sweep of Harvard since their 2007-08 season, in a decisive win in John Lee Amphitheater. An at-capacity student section and FOX Sports cameras witnessed their victory. But in front of this sold-out crowd, during a nationally televised game, the team wore warmup shirts that displayed the nickname and number of Jack Montague. The Feb. 10 withdrawal of the former captain from Yale, whose official departure from the team was not announced until Feb. 25, sent shock waves through campus. Now, these shirts have generated a controversy of their own by appearing to publicly protest his absence. The narrative of Friday night’s game has become centered on a message about “Gucci,” rather than a huge win in the pursuit of the dance. But why did they choose this particular display of solidarity, and why show it now?
Campus has been charged with speculation for the past week. Most recently, signs bearing messages such as “Teammate. Family. Brother. Rapist,” and “I stand with Yale women. End rape culture. Don’t support rapists,” were posted in an SSS lecture hall on Wednesday. Two days earlier, posters reading “Yale Men’s Basketball, Stop Supporting a Rapist” were removed from bulletin boards around campus. TheYale Daily News and sports blogs first began to comment on Montague’s absence when he failed to play in a game after Feb. 6, but there was a sense that much was left unsaid. But while there has been significant public response both on campus and online over the past week, the actual details of the events leading to his departure remain only rumors.
Due to government regulations and internal policies, Yale cannot confirm or deny any questions about his withdrawal, including whether or not formal University-Wide Committee on Sexual Misconduct (UWC) proceedings took place. However, Montague has withdrawn from Yale, despite stating to the YDN as late as Feb. 17 that he intended to return to the team soon. UWC cases will only result in expulsion if the committee finds a preponderance of evidence that a respondent severely violated Yale’s sexual misconduct policy, a decision that takes into account prior violations of a similar nature. This preponderance standard means that there was convincing evidence that an expellable offense occurred. A look at any semi-annual Report will show that expulsions are infrequent relative to the volume of complaints; last semester’s Report cites only one such case.
So if a UWC panel recommended that Montague be expelled for sexual assault, as the posters imply, I find it hard to believe that his teammates were wholly unaware, given their purported degree of closeness. By wearing those warmup shirts, the basketball team itself entered the conversation. Despite assurances that the shirts were simply a display of solidarity for a teammate who was missing after a four-year Yale basketball career, these shirts did not appear to be solely an ode to a missing teammate. Words are powerful, and the presence of “Gucci 4” on the back of the shirts and a backwards “Yale” written on the front sent a clear message to the crowd. In attendance at the game to support my friends on the team, I felt uncomfortable and sad, and I imagine that I was not alone.
The shirts did, in fact, “make it as clear as possible that Jack is one of [their] brothers,” as senior forward Justin Sears told the YDN. It’s just that their expression of brotherhood is incompatible with a campus climate in which everyone can feel safe. The basketball team, or any varsity team for that matter, stands in a particularly privileged position; inherently, some voices will be heard louder than others. There is a power in the scope of their public reach that can also be a burden.
Whether or not the team will admit it, the shirts were an orchestrated act of protest. The context under which these shirts were presented was meant to cause a reaction, and it has: I believe reactions like those articulated in the posters are justified. The display of support for Montague in such a public and televised setting is an irresponsible use of their spotlight. Regardless of their stated intent and attempt to distance themselves from the backlash that follows an act of protest, I sincerely doubt that the majority of the team was unaware of what they were implying to their audience.
There were a few particularly poignant, intentional elements of these shirts. The inversion of Yale, ostensibly due to copyright restrictions, could have been avoided if the message had been printed on shirts that were not Nike brand. Many campus organizations print Yale logos on plain t-shirts and do not face copyright concerns. It is unclear exactly what the backwards Yale meant, but one can infer that the inversion was a pointed critique of the university’s role in Montague’s withdrawal. Furthermore, the Harvard game was a specific choice of venue, especially considering the fact that Senior Night was the following night, during Yale’s game against Dartmouth. If the team had solely meant to express their brotherly affection for him, it would have made more sense to wear the shirts at the Dartmouth game, on the night when Montague ordinarily would have been honored as senior captain were he not withdrawn. Given Yale’s long-established rivalry, however, attendance for Harvard games are usually the highest; there’s no doubt that there were significantly more people, more buzz, and more coverage surrounding the Harvard game than the Dartmouth game could have ever garnered. And this is the game for which the team decided to wear these shirts.
At no other point in recent history have players worn shirts in solidarity for a missing teammate. Whether a teammate was travelling with the Whiffenpoofs or out due to injury, the sense of solidarity was unspoken. Surely, those teammates knew that their brothers missed them without needing a public assertion. If they feel it’s necessary, there are surely ways to let a former teammate know he is missed besides staging a protest. They shouldn’t be doing their healing as a team at the expense of the rest of the campus. Sears asserted to the YDN that, “Everyone on the team supported it and wanted to show our support for Jack.” It is hard to believe that of all of the members on the team, no one felt or expressed reservation about wearing the warmup shirts. This points to the power dynamics within sports teams that groom underclassmen members into subscribing to the groupthink mentality of the team, or that pressure members into conforming to public displays of unity.
In addition to the name being inscribed on shirts, chants of “Gucci” echoed in the gym as the team went on to beat Harvard. With each cheer, it became apparent that the crowd’s support was for more than just a name on a shirt. Sure, some fans may miss their friend Jack, but these chants were not present at previous games or on Senior Night. Regardless of whether or not the cheers were merely a demonstration of support for the missing player, they reinforced the message of the t-shirts: Montague is not truly gone so long as his name is chanted and glorified, and those who feel uncomfortable about it are unwelcome in this gym. The nature of some conversations on campus surrounding sexual violence or hookup culture has made behaviors like these appropriate.
The consequent media coverage of the team has exposed just how broad the reach of this platform is. From the YDN to ESPN, reporters are giving a voice to these players, enabling them to make comments that derail the conversation and perpetuate rape culture. Much of this coverage centers around bemoaning the effect that Montague’s absence will have on the Bulldog’s chances of securing the Ivy League title and advancing to the NCAA March Madness tournament. Senior Brandon Sherrod told ESPN, “…So, yeah, there’s been some, ‘Get this one for Gucci.’ But we’ve also rallied around one another. Sometimes teams crumble in these sorts of situations, but we’ve showed a lot of resilience.”
However, they are hardly rallying around one another if their focus remains on winning “for Gucci.” Furthermore, the use of the word “resilience” in this context inappropriately references the experiences of marginalized groups in order to describe the current state of Yale men’s basketball. Each time a member of the team chooses to make a comment, their ability to pretend that the conversation they’re engaged in is solely about the team and the game is a convenient crutch. There is an option to say “no comment,” yet this too might be an irresponsible use of their platform, similarly born of the privilege to ignore the impact of their actions.
Montague has the privilege of his teammates’ continued support on national television, and in front of the entire university. This is a luxury the average student does not have. His character becomes synonymous with the honor of being captain of the team and scoring three point baskets, rather than his withdrawal. The team has the privilege that media and fans come to watch them play, and that the amphitheater could consequently be a platform for their protest and public display of solidarity. Their actions attempt to sanctify Montague at the cost of making people feel unsafe.
If I wear a shirt in support of a political candidate, am I not also tacitly supporting his actions and his viewpoints, and indicating that support to others? In choosing to represent myself in this way, I would allow anyone who sees my shirt to make assumptions about my views, and to assume that one of those views is a sense of respect for the candidate’s actions. By wearing that shirt, I also suggest that the person with whom I stand in solidarity deserves my support, even if I know that he makes a significant number of people feel unsafe. Of course, when I wear a shirt, I don’t ensure that thousands of people see me do it.
Our words and our actions actively influence the culture we create for ourselves. It can perpetuate and normalize instances of great wrong. It can also isolate groups, like those who have experienced assault, or those in the gym on Friday who recognized the harm represented by those shirts and chants. Just because we cheer these players on does not mean that they don’t need to check their mindset or behavior; their collective action contributes to the legacy of male privilege acting to silence people who have experienced sexual violence. This privilege is particularly apparent in groups, and particularly apparent when its proponents are placed on such a visible platform.
As we move forward, the way that our words shape sexual culture needs to become an active conversation that we have with our friends, teams, and classmates. We must all make a concerted effort to confront these issues regardless of how awkward or scary it may be, or however much we don’t want to believe that they involve people close to us. Each person must actively contribute to the creation of an inclusive and aware environment in the social spaces we inhabit.
Walking out of the gym Friday night, I felt confused and uneasy about what these shirts could mean for our community. The front of the team’s jerseys still reads Yale, inverted though the letters may be. As representatives of Yale on the court, this power—of having a voice and stage on which to be seen—has to be accompanied by a greater sense of accountability and responsibility. A responsibility to understand the implications of one’s actions, yes, but also to respect the safety of the students who inhabit the space alongside them.