“Fearless” with Jason Whitlock (Ep. 518)
Jason Whitlock and Sage Steele
Want You to Know-Know
It’s been a minute since my inaugural Contrarian Review of Jason Whitlock’s should-be award-winning program, “Fearless” on the BlazeTV platform. That first review was the detonator of this blog’s content. When I sent it to Whitlock (before launching the blog), and received his almost immediate reply of encouragement about my writing prowess, I knew he’d confirmed God’s edict to write with regularity. I sheepishly complied with a slow dribble of content.
I’m done being sheepish. This post represents the first of the flurry. I’ll be writing… a lot.
That first “Fearless” review covered episode 251: Whitlock’s emboldened narrative about his show’s origin story, its purpose and his #notsorry, trailblazing media and culture ministry (that’s really what he’s up to). Since then, Whitlock has offered his audience a delectable buffet of intriguing show topics, interviews and controversies. So plentiful is that bounty in fact, that I’ve been challenged with choosing which episode I will review next.
The problem is officially solved.
My “Fearless” review of episode 518 is absolutely the one to unpeel. As I write, it’s about a month old and over two hours long, so I’ll make a point to extract the juiciest bits. It’s a challenge. This is really good content. It’s an interview with former ESPN anchor, Sage Steele - “The Sage Sitdown” – and their uncut takes are savory.
Steele cut ties with woke headquarters the sports network after winning a free speech violation settlement. Her interview with Whitlock deep dives about why The Mouse (Disney, which owns ESPN) suspended her with pay for her dastardly act of openly objecting to Big Brother company policy regarding mandatory Covid jabs. She acquiesced, last-minute, and got the jab to keep her job. She’s made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to get it. As is the case among the super-woke, diversity of thought is only permissible if the diverse thought doesn’t deviate from approved leftist key messages.
Diversity of thought is encouraged depending on who’s doing the thinking.
I’ve worked for companies with similar consensus bias.
The irony, of course, is that many people who work for these companies tear their rotator cuffs patting themselves on the back in self-congratulation about how diverse, equitable and inclusionary they are. God forbid they intersect headlong with an unwanted dissenter like Whitlock, Steele… or me. I’m the chick who’s quick to tell people that, if they’re not comfortable disclosing when they get pap smears and prostate exams, they likewise shouldn’t be comfortable disclosing when they get their fifty-ninth booster… especially in company meetings and on the company intranet.
That’s, of course, the crazy talk of people who “don’t care about people” to “progressives.”
In the end and jab mandate notwithstanding, Steele pushed back based on her God-given, inalienable rights, refused to have her speech compelled and the network had to cough up an undisclosed amount of mea culpa cash.
Good on her.
She says she wants to launch her own content. I’ll be the first to like, follow and share. If she writes a book about it, I’ll buy the first advanced copy.
By the way, none of Steele’s black colleagues offered their support either publicly or privately.
Image credit: “Fearless” and BlazeTV
I’m just gonna leave that right there.
***
This review includes a fair amount of my personal story peppered in. Whitlock and Steele discuss some heady topics (for the hyper triggered, anyway), so I’m offering personal perspective for broadened context. My hope is that the additional context will lift the veil on what blinds most of us: we all have different lived experiences that inform our vistas, choices and trajectories. Making assumptions about people based on anything external limits the intellect and grieves the spirit.
The review is long, as is the growing list of imaginary offenses black people – and the white liberals who apologize to them for being white – far too frequently leverage to cry wolf about themselves and to target others with intimidation.
The full interview is here.
Subbing and activating notifications on Whitlock’s YouTube channel is what smart people do.
Shared Values > Diversity
Whitlock kicks the discussion off with a preamble about the difference between shared values and diversity. It’s his opinion that diversity is overrated. There’s some nuance to contend with there but, for the most part, I agree.
To his point, skin color, sexuality and pronouns don’t define diversity and, even if they did, they certainly shouldn’t trump the importance of shared values. Whether a personal or professional dynamic, being equally yoked is a thing and, when it’s not there, implosion is inevitable. I’ve got a few failed relationships I can submit as exhibits A-Z to support that one.
I’ve been saying it since DEI became a not-a-thing-thing in the corporate space: diversity hires for diversity’s sake will ultimately fail. Neither the company (which is usually dolling out a six-figure salary to a bootleg and redundant HR person) nor the diversity hire (who is set up to fail) is well served. I’ve already seen it. Despite the deluge of DEI language frantically included with nearly every job description on nearly every job board, people with DEI in their titles are not long for the corporate world. It’s a budgetary hemorrhage for “work” that adds nothing to the bottom line while pacifying self-congratulating virtue signalers. As a rule, box checking without discerning the intangibles as they relate to the greater good never works.
Whitlock’s right about it.
Maria Taylor’s ‘Fit
Whitlock and Steele chatted about the outfit NBC’s Football Night in America commentator, Maria Taylor, wore on the network’s September 7 broadcast of the Chiefs vs Lions game. Whitlock insists that, while he considers Taylor a beautiful woman (she is), her noisy ‘fit exposed too much, left too little to the imagination and distracted from what should’ve been the star of the show: the game.
My take on the ‘fit? I don’t care. She’s a Georgia grad, so I super duper extra sauce don’t care. #RollTideToThat
SEC snark aside, I do believe, however, that her personal proclamation regarding how she rocks her pregnancy - which may have subliminally beckoned a brand deal or two - was at least one motive in her choice to wear the ‘fit.
From a fashion perspective, I didn’t love it. The material looked itchy. The color looked pretty with her skin tone, but, in my opinion, the duds included a fair amount of “Look at me!” thirst hanging loosely on every thread.
I would call myself a semi-conservative, but not prudish, dresser. If I’m feeling confident and thin enough, my legs, arms and back may see the light of day. You can take the gymnast out of the body fat testing machine, but you can’t take… never mind.
I was particularly interested in Steele’s comment that, when she was married, she was respectful of what made her husband comfortable. The same was true for me when I was married. And, while I will absolutely expect to be trusted to wear what looks flattering on me while not inviting lust-laden attention, I will employ the same philosophy if I’m ever married again. I personally believe there’s women who can wear a paper bag and still look suggestive, and women who can wear a short skirt and still look professional. With a few exceptions, it’s less about the clothes and more about how the woman carries herself. It’s the motive for wearing anything that is usually the first thing people see. Look-at-me energy is real, and subtly sexy is not something that can be bought or taught: it’s either there or it’s not.
The bigger point is that, in all likelihood, Ms. Taylor’s (and possibly the network’s) mission was accomplished: people talked, commented, shared and made her ‘fit viral.
The “Why?”
Steele eloquently describes her reason for being an analyst. She singles out a “Why?” that never gets old: telling stories about the awe of the go-be-great moment athletes train their whole lives to accomplish.
I’ve had a few of those moments.
Defeating the reigning world gymnastics champ when I was 12 years old was a God’s grace on full display in a leotard. Being the NCAA All-Around champion as both Bama’s first black gymnast and as a freshman – after not training for a full year to rehab my crunchy ankle (torn ligaments) and completing two years of high school in one year – was God-breathed. Setting what was dubbed “The Streak” record when I scored “Perfect 10’s” in five consecutive meets at Bama had His touch all over it. Cracking the “What’s next?” code after retiring from the sport at the ripe age of 21, and discovering my additional gifts to write persuasively, communicate effectively, strategize with nuance and amplify others’ work on their behalf proved God’s gifts aren’t of the one-trick-pony variety.
None of these things were covered on ESPN (or any other national sports network or publication). None of these events went viral or caught the attention of Influencers and brands. But, they were all go-be-great moments nonetheless.
By God’s blessing and, yes, my in-kind response to it, those go-be-great moments were the fruit of over 10,000 hours in the gym, countless ice baths, sitting in flexibility-increasing contraptions at home, learning new skills that, in a nanosecond, could’ve resulted in a broken neck, miles of tape on my ankles and wrists and another 10,000+ hours invested in my writing, PR and communications career. What I’ve concluded though, is that the real reason for go-be-great moments is to honor an audience of One.
Although she admits it once was, Steele’s “Why?” is no longer determined by what other people think. Whitlock is very obviously in that same headspace.
Steele has figured out what so many have to learn the hard way. I don’t know a thing about her faith other than her public declaration that she’s a believer, but she has fully absorbed this critically important lesson: “It is dangerous to be concerned with what others think of you, but if you trust the LORD, you are safe.” -Proverbs 29:25
Sage Steele “Ain’t Black”
It’s about to get raw, y’all.
I’m concluding this post with a close-to-home topic Whitlock and Steele spent a good portion of the interview unpacking from myriad angles. Forgive my appropriation of Joe Biden’s one millionth racist statement (the one that was conveniently ignored by a popular radio show host) for this section’s subheading, but this topic severs a nerve for me. I’m going there.
Despite what I refer to as my “butterscotch” hue, I am not biracial. Not from an immediate family perspective, anyway. Both of my parents were black. My dad had caramel-colored skin, and he was black. My mom had hazel eyes, and she was black. Together, they had my four siblings and me and, although there’s clearly some milk somewhere in our bloodline’s coffee, we’re black. My oldest brother traced our dad’s side of our bloodline to Wales. We’ve got Welsh ancestry. So much about me made sense when he told me: my unrivaled affinity for the perfect cuppa tea, British aristocracy documentaries, anything George Michael sang and any film starring Judi Dench or Anthony Hopkins.
By the way, if I had a nickel for every time people either stared at me with that puzzled “What is she?” expression on their faces, or immediately spoke to me in Spanish when I got in a cab or an Uber, I’d have a lot of nickels. Neither response to my melanin quotient is offensive to me. While I appreciate the spectacular mosaic of skin tones by which God chose to express Himself through all of us who are created in His image (that’s everyone, by the way), I spend zero time ruminating about skin color. None. The human race has wasted millennia majoring on the minor. I have second-hand embarrassment about it.
Whitlock said that if someone voices a perspective about anything that’s not considered groupthink-acceptable, they’re either tagged as a racist (if they’re white) or a sellout (if they’re black). As a Bible-believing, constitutional conservative, I, like Steele, am more than familiar with being assigned the “self-loathing” label. The truth is, the last thing I’m thinking about if I have anything to say about anyone with whom I disagree is their skin color.
Racial idolatry isn’t a thing over here.
When someone is bereft of knowledge, logic or wisdom, the color of their skin is immaterial. And, actually, this post is one of the few times I’ll bother to comment on skin color. For the most part, it’s a low-frequency, bottom-feeding topic and I don’t dwell in that vapid space. But, Whitlock’s and Steele’s discussion about it in this episode warrants some thread pulling.
Sage Steele is, in fact, biracial. Her mom is white. Her dad is black. She equally embraces both sides of her bloodline: “I’m pretty sure my white mom was there the day I was born,” she said. Her mom is Irish Italian. Her dad made history as the first black man to play football at Army. I can relate. Literally. She comes from good stock… both sides of it.
I’m pretty sure my white mom was there the day I was born.
She said that right after she tripled-down on her circa 2014 answer to Barbara Walters’ question (live on “The Squawk” “The View”) about why she chooses to acknowledge that she’s biracial versus solely acknowledging that she’s black (RIP real journalism… sheesh).
To support her virtueless signaled question, Babs bafflingly cited the fact that the then false idol president, Barack Hussein Obama, solely refers to himself as black, alluding to the accusation point that Steele should also renounce her half-whiteness.
Recounting that preposterous question Walters asked Steele just made me a little less smart. My God.
Photo courtesy of Sage Steele’s X Account
Steele’s reply to Walters’ color-obsessed question was essentially that, while the former prez is free to disavow half his lineage, she chooses to celebrate all of hers. She mentioned the well-documented (per a book with his name on the cover) truth that Obama was raised by two white women (mama and grandmama) and that his black dad was of the absentee father persuasion. As is common with literally every “tolerant” leftist on the planet, Walters subsequently objected (off-air, of course) to Steele’s free speech by flexing some old-woman-strength with a disapproving elbow, which wedged Steele between a green room trash can and a wall. Whoopi saw the one-sided rumble jump off.
It was Walters, not Steele, who brought up Obama. Steele replied to Walters’ Obama reference by calling out the fact that they are samesies with respect to being biracial people. Despite Walters’ intolerant green room theatrics, Steele’s answer was a nothing-burger in 2014.
Steele recalled her 2021 interview with Jay Cutler on his podcast, and his asking her about the Obama question. She offered the same answer.
(Cue manufactured outrage.)
Her answer was not a nothing-burger in 2021.
She shared with Whitlock that professional fault-finders came out of the woodwork and lambasted Steele for daring to celebrate both her white and black parents, tagging her as “self-loathing,” calling her “every racist name in the book” and threatening her life.
The dirty little secret in the black community is that some of us are considered melanin-challenged and, therefore, not completely worthy of a black card. What used to be commonplace was that those of a darker hue were considered by some as less favorable, while those who could “pass” and had “good hair” were envied.
That’s flipped now.
Those of us who have lighter complexions are expected to quantify our blackness and adopt vernacular like “queen” to describe ourselves. Whether the way it was or the way it is now, the common denominator is the same: we eat our own.
In fact, every racial epithet I’ve ever been called out loud to my face (“High yella,” “redbone,” “half-breed,” “wannabe,” “house n****”) has been exclusively uttered out of the mouths of black people. My community. My people. My folk.
Dirty little secret.
Sunlight is the best disinfectant.
Steele recounted a story about the first time she encountered overt racism as a high school senior. Some clod called her the N-word and track teammates assumed drug dealing was the only way her family could afford the BMW (which, per those teammates, had illegal firearms under the seat… obviously) she was seen driving on weekends. While we share the experience of having been very young high school seniors (16-year-olds turning 17 before graduation), Steele handled those situations, which she attributes to ignorant parenting and jaded media coverage, with far more grace than I would’ve extended. Regardless of the fact that I didn’t have racially charged encounters like that with white people, had it ever happened, the people I would’ve cussed out then would still be in the fetal position with a verbal icepick driven through the thing about themselves they didn’t think anyone knew.
Before I gave Jesus control, I used to wield my accurate discernment and excoriating tongue with reckless abandon. I probably still owe some apologies.
Whitlock related to Steele’s story, and discussed his early Kansas City days as an instantly successful columnist. A white woman befriended him and, in what she deemed collective comfort, asked him about rumors she’d heard about him (including one erroneous claim that he’d recently been released from jail). The obvious absurdity that a person who had just been freed from the clink-clink would immediately pivot to rising-star columnist at a regionally circulated publication somehow escaped that woman (which may or may not say something about whoever hired her at the paper). Homegirl also advised Whitlock about the scuttlebutt suggesting his bylines were editor rewrites. As a writer, the depth of insult wrapped in that one is staggering. Still, Whitlock deduced that ignorance and very little interaction with black people, rather than racism, was at the root of her inquiries. Personally, I would’ve given her a hard check in tandem with a healthy benefit-of-the-doubt dose, but we all respond to the ignorant, uninformed and misinformed differently, yes?
Steele attributes not experiencing overt racism until she was nearly a legal adult to being a sheltered, diversity-friendly military brat. Maybe. But, I was most certainly not sheltered. In fact, I stuck out like a turd in a punchbowl, living in environments ripe with opportunity for overt discrimination. It simply didn’t happen. If it did happen, I was oblivious to it (which means it wasn’t overt). I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. I’m saying it didn’t happen – at the hands of white people – to me.
If anything, the people in my immediate educational, athletic and friendship circles saw to it that I never identified as a victim. Despite my talent level, my white coaches pushed me. Hard. Gymnastics judges neither penalized me for not being a stick figure and having “clean lines” nor did they unjustly reward me for having a bit more height and amplitude if I didn’t stick a landing. My parents’ biased belief that my every performance deserved a “perfect 10” aside, my routines were judged fairly.
In the State of Alabama. Check your stereotyping privilege.
In case you’re wondering, I’m not at all bitter about any mistreatment I’ve endured from my ethnically connected brethren. The love and acceptance from the black community about who I am (which has nothing to do with my skin color) far outweighs any nastiness I’ve experienced. The ugly stuff was spewed by a few bad apples. Hurt people hurt people, and all that. Whatever. I was over it eons ago. I pointed it out simply to expose the fallacy that white boogeymen are solely responsible for the continuously surging cries for whatever qualifies as the perpetual goalpost-moving definition of 2023 “social justice.”
So, the contempt Steele experienced after the Cutler interview was solely due to her stating a fact about her DNA, shining a flood light on the fact that critical thinking is the resource everyone should be fighting to restore and preserve. It’s almost extinct.
Meanwhile, little do her critics know, almost no one in the United States is 100% black. And, while many are worshiping their skin color, referring to it as “magic,” bleating nonsense about “The Motherland” and thinking the amount of melanin in their skin is synonymous with “untainted” black blood, everyone in this country is a giant vat of Ratatouille.
We’re all mutts. #changemymind
Steele and I share the unapologetic vantage point that, when we see people, we don’t see color; we see people. With a Civil Rights Movement-active stepdad and a conservative living, but liberal voting, mom, I grew up living in mostly white neighborhoods, went to mostly white schools and competed in, arguably, the whitest sport in America.
My ethnicity wasn’t a thing. My talent was a thing. The fact that I had the letters USA on my back from age 12 on was a thing. The fact that I was exempt from P.E. and allowed to get my driver’s license a year early so I could get to practice (Mom worked) after school was a thing. But, my ethnicity wasn’t a thing until I made history at Bama. And that wasn’t even a big thing. It was a blip on a few radars (mostly my family) because people in Tuscaloosa are fixated on the color gold… in the form of championship rings. Bama fans don’t care about the skin color of the people winning the rings; they just want a Fort Knox-worth’s supply. It’s all about the hardware in Title Town. We’re greedy about it, and we genuinely believe those with the most rings at the end of the game of life are the undisputed winners of everything that matters.
Where Steele and I disagree is in her assertion that Walters’ question was “interesting.” It wasn’t interesting. With all due to Walters and her, hopefully, God-rested soul, it was banal. Considering the veritable goldmine of much more engaging questions about Steele’s career she could’ve asked, the Obama-comparison bait question was junk food. It cheapened Walters’ life’s work and boxed Steele into a small conversation about a small topic.
Steele surmised that the only way the word “sellout” would or could apply to her is if she had compromised on her convictions about staying true to herself when everyone (well, maybe not everyone) is being told they can be true to themselves.
She’s right. That would, in fact, be the definition of selling out. Steele stayed true to her convictions. She’s not a sellout. She’s what used to be called a person of integrity.
Black-on-Black Whine
Whitlock and Steele combed through (pun intended) insufferable eggshell-walking territory including black hair (and Steele’s awkward, professional victim-triggering interview with a UFC dude I’ve never heard of).
They also chatted about what Whitlock says is the real reason she’s called a sellout: marrying a white guy. I can’t believe this is still actually a topic of discussion in 2023. God in heaven.
Steele recalls her reasoning for falling in love with and marrying white man.
Wait for it.
He treated her well.
I know. She’s a maverick with impossibly high standards. Uppity.
For those who are slow on the uptake, that was satire.
Steele underscores the truth that, regardless of her immediate family’s biracial example, she is attracted to men of every ethnicity, and her now ex-husband just happened to be white. Among her most profound points though, is the rampant hypocrisy couched in the criticism hurled her way: the expectation of many black people that, if someone is white, unquestioning acceptance of black people exactly as they are – including preferences and proclivities – is mandatory. But, if another black person has that same expectation of black people, the black(ish) checklist surfaces, and the scrutiny about whether or not that black person deserves to be included as a bonafide black person is pending the woke contigent’s decision.
On that point Whitock and Steele agree, and Whitlock expounds on his agreement by illustrating the farce that there’s a “justifiable form of racism.” Steele commends him for his willingness to sit among the few who apply the word “racist” – which is grossly overused and misused – where it should be applied.
I’m included in that fearless few. Disparaging anyone based on their skin color and/or their chosen mate’s skin color is racist. Period.
The Importance of Whitlock’s “Fearless”
Although there’s a decent amount of hate watchers and commenters who revel at staying committed to misunderstanding him, Whitlock’s content is so slept on. It’s clear he specializes in picking the proverbial scab (which, as he says, pays his bills), but his intentionally inflammatory commentary notwithstanding, Whitlock is an actual journalist. He’s a subject matter expert on sports, culture and, in many respects, how human behavior affects those two things.
Whitlock is stretching himself in his walk with God. And, as almost no one is willing to do, he’s collapsing his expertise areas with his novice Christendom (we’re all novices in that area) and putting it on full display – hot takes and all – so that we, the viewers, can confront the proposition of stretching ourselves.
I linked to the full interview earlier in this lengthy post because there’s lots of reasons to watch it in its entirety:
Reason #1: Whitlock transparently disclosing his regretfully “blowing up, totally undermining and destroying the best relationship I ever had” because of what he supposed would be a problematic interracial conundrum for him professionally and personally. This was a big cat Whitlock let out of the bag. That’s not lost on me. I respect what it took for him to swing the door wide open for the race worshipers to take their best shots at him. Meanwhile, the look on Steele’s face as he talked about it is priceless. She was legit perplexed that he would do such a thing. She’s no pollyanna; her innocence is in-tact.
Reason #2: Steele’s tearful recalling of the NFL Films story about her parents’ marriage, her mom being initially canceled (but later reconciled) by her parents for marrying her dad (I’m not crying, you’re crying), and the unthinkable persecution her children suffer because she refuses to repent for living a principles-rooted life
Reason #3: Whitlock’s discussing the “extra burden” of being in his circle because of the public judgment bullseye on his non-woke back. It’s one of those admissions that leaves you silently thinking, “I shouldn’t be hearing this… it’s too personal.” But, Whitlock extended the invite. I’m permanently RSVP’d.
Reason #4: Steele’s reveal that she was asked if she was her childrens’ nanny during grocery store excursions (I literally don’t know anyone with that level of self-aware lack… or stupidity), and her loving description of America’s true melting pot visage
Reason #5: Whitlock’s explanation of what he calls “Half-rican Americans” (which is a hilarious moniker for biracial people. Oh, lighten up. It’s funny.) like Colin Kaepernick (just writing his name prompted an eye roll), who struck woke gold by displaying a 70s fro, a Huey P. Newton ‘tude and full disrespect of his white parents. Whitlock poses a question to Steele about whether or not her children have ever felt the need to be overly demonstrative about their black roots. Spoiler alert: Her answer was “No.” How dare they not be preoccupied with their ethnicity. Ingrates. (Again, satire.)
Reason #6: Their discussion of the forbidden and undiscussable: traumatic events perpetrated by black people resulting in white people having a problem with black people. Popcorn with extra butter and napkins, please.
Reason #7: Their uncovering of the very real trend wherein black people crucify other black people who aren’t in lockstep with white–people-bad rhetoric. It is that egregious, divisive reality that breaks my heart. Whitlock says it’s because black people don’t value freedom. I say it’s because critical thinking has collectively been switched off.
I definitely intend this to be the first and last time an entire post is dedicated to writing the words “white” and “black” so repetitively. But, Whitlock and Steele had a candid, conclusive, non-cringey conversation about some of the most divisive topics endlessly argued in the battle between the woke and the awakened.
For that reason, “Fearless” is not just important; it’s necessary.