Jason Collins: Comfortable in his own identity and skin

Jason Collins in conversation at the Commonwealth Club /
"Now that I have this voice and platform, I want to speak out
for all of the of the gay athletes out there."

At 7-feet tall, Jason Collins easily stands out in a crowded room not only for his height but also for his skin color. Yet, it's his personality and intellect that draws your attention toward him.

Last year, Collins became the first openly gay active male athlete in major American professional sports when he came out in a highly publicized personal essay published in the May 6, 2013 issue of Sports Illustrated magazine.

"Depending on the situation," Collins laughs, "I'm not always the gay one. Sometimes, I'm just the tall one, or the black one. When I turn heads, is it because people know I'm gay, or is it because I'm a seven-foot-tall African-American man?"

Last week, speaking in front of an audience of nearly 600 young professionals at the Castro Theatre in San Francisco for the Commonwealth Club's InForumSF conversation series, Collins shared the stage with journalist Jose Antonio Vargas and spoke candidly for 75 minutes about his journey of self-discovery and self-acknowledgement, and how coming out of the closet in a machismo professional sport powered by super stars like LeBron James and Kobe Bryant has changed his life.

"I just spoke to a group of NBA rookies and I had to explain what LGBT (Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender) stood for." While some in the audience snickered at the ignorance of it all, it prompted Collins to speak up: "It's all about education and exposure. Some guys have had no education and exposure to the LGBT community."

After he came out in April 2013, Collins waited patiently for a phone call from an NBA team who was willing to take a chance on the 255-pound veteran center -- a consummate professional and veteran of six pro teams who's appeared in two NBA finals, and who just happened to be gay. Certainly, there was bound to be one team willing to take a chance on the free agent. Finally, the Brooklyn Nets contacted Collins last February and signed him to a contract for the back end of the 2013-14 season, where he averaged 1.1 points and 0.9 rebounds.

For much of his pro basketball career, Collins has worn number 34, the same number he wore in college. However, after being traded to Boston and later Washington, then signing with Brooklyn, he chose a different number. "I needed a jersey number to go with my new identity," Collins said. "I went with 98 for the year 1998: the year Matthew Shepard died and the year the Trevor Project was founded."

Despite the personal fulfillment he's achieved, Collins believes there's still a stigma of homophobia in the NBA. "I used to hear that kind of talk a lot in the locker room," he said. "Since I came out, I don't hear it at all. Of course, that might have something to do with it being a $25,000 fine now. I tell guys, you don't have to be politically correct -- you just have to find more creative ways of cutting each other down."

Collins says matter-of-factly, at least one unnamed player trash-talked him during a game after he came out. "Yeah, he's a knucklehead. My attitude about that is: I'm going to foul you. Hard."

While some have labeled the Stanford University graduate as the "big brother San Francisco never had," the polite and affable Collins admits that at times he still feels like the new kid in school, still getting comfortable with his new identity and celebrity. He credits a gay uncle for being his personal role model and said that he's garnered moral support from fellow Stanford alums like U.S. Rep. Joseph Kennedy III, who was his college roommate, and from Chelsea Clinton, the daughter of President Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham Clinton, who was his classmate. He also gives props to prominent gay athletes like Martina Navratilova and Billie Jean King for being trailblazers as well as sharing their wisdom and advice with him.

Although he can laugh about it now, Collins confessed to the audience: "I didn't kiss a man until I was 34-years-old." On dating for the first time, he said: "Having my heart broken, something that most people go through for the first time in high school, didn't happen to me until I was 34. There was a lot of accelerated learning curve going on there. The Stanford student in me wants to say: 'Okay, we're going to master this.'"

Before he came out publicly, Collins had been in an eight-year relationship with fellow Stanford alumnus and former WNBA center Carolyn Moos. The two were engaged to be married, but Collins called off the wedding in 2009.

Looking back, Collins said coming out to his family was a positive experience filled with love and respect. He recalled his first conversation about being gay with somebody outside of his family circle happened when he told his long-time agent Arn Tellem. "I called my agent. Now, normally, when a player calls an agent after a trade, it's to fire him. But I said 'I've got something to tell you: I'm gay.' He said, 'Well, Jason, you can still play.'"

While there's still a competitive fire in him, Collins told the audience he's undecided about whether to play another season in the NBA. With a lucrative, multi-million dollar endorsement from Nike, Collins realizes he can be as much a positive impact off the court as on it by speaking out on issues like equality and education as well as sustainability and health and fitness. He has a positive story that's worth sharing with others.

"Now that I have this voice and platform, I want to speak out for all of the gay athletes out there," Collins said. Seemingly comfortable in his own identity and skin, Collins is reaching equality both on and off the court by becoming an ambassador for acceptance and peace. In April, Collins was featured on the cover of Time Magazine's "100 Most Influential People in the World."

Reflecting on his life as a professional basketball player, Collins said: "Thirteen years is a long career for an athlete. "I used to be able to jump and touch the top of the white square behind the hoop with ease. As the years go by, you watch your hand go lower and lower on that square. Father Time is undefeated against us all.

"I'm really grateful for my Stanford degree now. On the other hand, I can still dunk."

Editor's note: On November 19, Jason Collins announced his retirement from professional basketball after 13 seasons in the NBA.

Photograph of Jason Collins at the Commonwealth Club in San Francisco's Castro Theatre by Michael Dickens © 2014.

We A.R.E. Pride: Leveling the playing field

We A.R.E. Pride / If you can play, you can play.

It started with a dialogue between rivals on the basketball court, but off it they are athletes reaching equality.

Now, seniors Mikayla Lyles of the University of California, Berkeley and Toni Kokenis of Stanford University are standing front and center, together, creating a shared space for inclusion and a conversation about acceptance.

After all, there is no rivalry in equality.

Lyles, a co-captain of her Cal team, who's been writing an insightful blog for espnW.com this season about her life as a student-athlete, isn't afraid to speak out about social change. She and Kokenis, who was forced to give up basketball after suffering a pair of concussions during her three seasons at Stanford, have worked together for the past five months on a series of programs which were held last week on their respective campuses to connect their schools in support of LGBTQ inclusion in sports called We A.R.E. Pride, Athletes Reaching Equality. 

The Cal & Stanford Edition events also included video documentaries and photo galleries featuring candid shots of recent and current Cal and Stanford student-athletes.

A rivalry of equals / This candid shot featuring
Layshia Clarendon, Mikayla Lyles, Toni Kokenis and Avigiel Cohen
was included in a photo gallery of Cal and Stanford athletes.

"In particular, we wanted to focus on bringing awareness to the inequality of LGBTQ inclusion in sports, with the hopes that if we could prove that two student-athletes could spearhead an initiative such as this, then we could inspire communities, cultures, and generations to take the progression of any inequality into their own hands," Lyles and Kokenis wrote in a welcoming letter that was handed out to forum attendees at both the Field Club in Memorial Stadium at UC Berkeley and Burnham Pavilion at Stanford last week.

"As we have taken the necessary steps to put our vision into fruition," their letter continued, "we have been humbled enough to realize that in order to progress any inequality, one must understand that the fight is bigger than the self. ... No war was ever won by battles fought alone."

In the spring of 2012, Kokenis helped found Stanford Athletes and Allies Together (StAAT), a student group dedicated to supporting LGBTQ and allied athletes. Through her association with StAAT, Kokenis initiated a dialogue with her university's athletic department, which led to "You Can Play," a video which featured 28 Stanford athletes, coaches and administrators. Last summer, after she saw Lyles' participation in a Br{ache The Silence public service announcement that featured former Cal star Layshia Clarendon, she contacted Lyles. Soon after, the two decided to work together on We A.R.E. Pride.

Mikayla Lyles has been
outspoken about inclusion
and acceptance in athletics:
"No war was ever won by
battles fought alone."

While both have been vocal activists on their own campuses, Lyles was instrumental in the idea of bringing two rivals together. "Every school has a rival, but that doesn't mean you can't unite on the ground level, wanting to fight for something together," Lyles told espnW.com's Michelle Smith. "We want to start the conversation because in the athletic culture, there's been a lot of silence to this point. It's been extremely silent."

According to Kokenis, silence isn't equal to acceptance. "The only way to make sports more accepting is to talk about it. I feel like we have perfect opportunities as student-athletes at some of the top schools in the country. Athletics still has to catch up with the rest of the world," she said in an espnW.com interview.

Together, Lyles, an interdisciplinary studies major who is straight and calls herself "naturally an ally, naturally inclusive," and Kokenis, a human biology and sociology major who came out to her teammates before her basketball career was cut short, said they wanted to show that the "essence of tradition and rivalry can be more than just a symbol of competition; it can serve as a platform for unity and progress."

"This isn't about making athletes come out, it's about fostering an environment where it doesn't matter," said Kokenis. "We need to deal with it, instead of pretending it doesn't exist."

Lyles and Kokenis enlisted the support of an impressive group of educators and activists for last week's panel and audience Q & A discussions. The panelists at the UC Berkeley event, which I attended with my wife and friends, included: moderator Pat Griffin, a national LGBTQ and athletics educator and activist; Wade Davis, a nationally recognized speaker, educator and former NFL player; Helen Carroll, director of the National Center for Lesbian Right's Sports Project, which aims to ensure that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender players, coaches and administrators receive fair and equal treatment free of discrimination; and Nevin Caple, co-founder of Br{ache the Silence, which advances LGBTQ inclusion in sports through professional and college campus integration initiatives and public awareness campaigns.

Griffin asked the panelists questions about LGBTQ inclusion in sports and other issues touched on racism, religion, sexism and homophobia.

A courage of their convictions / Mikayla Lyles (L) and Toni Kokenis
have worked together to connect their respective schools,
Cal and Stanford, in support of LGBTQ inclusion in sports.

Both Lyles and Kokenis were asked about their reasons for their project, and both were frank and eloquent in speaking out about inclusion. According to Lyles, college athletes have a unique voice that needs and should be spoken louder. "Acceptance can be achieved only through understanding, and understanding can be achieved only when athletes speak up to share their opinions on this important social issue," she said. Adds Kokenis: "Acceptance is acceptance. We can leave a legacy of inclusion."

I'm very proud of the leadership that Mikayla and Toni have shown in speaking out about social change -- inclusion and reaching equality -- in athletics. It was a pleasure to be in the UC Berkeley audience of about 200, which included Lyles' basketball teammates and coaches; many male and female Cal student-athletes, alums, and several UC professors and administrators. Hearing Mikayla and Toni speak out and contribute to a lively discussion of these important issues meant a lot and it showed me not only their leadership qualities, but also a courage of their convictions.

In an e-mail sent to event participants last week, Lyles wrote that the panel members were impressed with the Cal and Stanford communities, "and we have all been inspired to continue using student-athletes and rivals as a platform to really bring people together all over the country. ... It is one of my greatest college and life memories that I will never forget.

"The aura you get in a room when you allow people to be completely themselves makes for an experience of human connections; that is incomparable."

Photographs of Mikayla Lyles and Toni Kokenis by Michael Dickens, 2014. Creative images courtesy of We A.R.E. Portrait Gallery (originals by Mollie McClure of McClure Images).