‘Black Lives Matter:’ sport, race and ethnicity in challenging times

Debates around race, ethnicity, and indigeneity, whether related to sport or society in general, are far from new. Yet in recent times, such debates have gained new urgency due to the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement and the racial health inequalities revealed by the Covid-19 pandemic. Although such events are grounded in a series of crises that stretch back decades, antiracist activism at present has gained a new intensity. This new intensity is evident in the world of sport not only because of individual athletes but inter/national governing organisations, clubs and teams, and grassroots activism. This includes the national football teams of several European countries, in which racialisation is seldom discussed, showing their support for the protests against racism. Kneeling, with or without a raised fist, is the most recognisable display of abhorrence towards structural racism, often as a prelude to games. In the US, kneeling as the national anthem is played led to global integration of such activism at the beginning of a plethora of sports and everyday activities. Yet, such symbolic acts expose a number of critical questions about the efficacy and options for promoting social change in and through sport.

These are challenging times. The Covid-19 pandemic, for example, is less than a year old at the time of writing, while BLM is around 6 years old. The BLM movement was driven initially by the murder of Trayvon Martin and the acquittal of his killer in the USA, together with the recent takeover of the Capitol in Florida by far-right activist groups (www.blacklivesmatter.com). However, the BLM movement saw an accelerated impetus after the public killing by Minnesota police of George Floyd (and several other similarly unarmed African Americans) caught on camera by bystanders and shared across the globe, instigating a surge in protests. Furthermore, the subsequent online and offline crackdown by agents of the American Federal State on the resultant protests, together with the rise in reactionary statements from opponents of the BLM movement, has polarised public perspectives. BLM has been simultaneously labelled a movement for social justice by its organisers, and a Marxist group by its opponents. It has given rise to vociferous discussions, debates, protests and even violence in relation to issues including economic and health inequalities in different ethnic communities, on policing, crime, human rights and social welfare. Further, BLM has reached its present scale during a time of global socio-economic stress and demonstrable inequalities across ethnic, class and gender fault-lines. Additionally, it has given new impetus to moral panics surrounding migration and what is often been described as the ‘migrant crisis’ in Europe and North America (e.g. De Genova, 2018). Indeed, the movement has begun to drive some changes, and has complemented awareness and renewed examination of racial inequality in relation to COVID-19 fatalities, ethnicity and health inequalities (Evans et al., 2020; Malcolm & Velija, 2020). Yet the stress and multiple crises of the present have deep roots in the past.

The Black Lives Matter movement has echoes of the civil rights movements of the past. Furthermore, other issues have been driven and swept up in the general discussion on racial equality. The ‘Arab Spring’ (Dabashi, 2012) and ongoing ‘migrant crisis’ in Europe and North America (Goodman et al., 2017) have placed a significant strain upon the international system, including international treaties and organisations such as the EU and UN and their member states. Regional instability, endemic poverty, war or the outright collapse of several states in the Middle East, Central and Southern Asia, Africa, Central and South America has increased rates of migration from the Global South to the Global North for decades (Castles, 2006). One consequence of this has been the emergence of a raft of reactionary policies and activist movements – often on the far right of the political spectrum and based on an ‘anti-migrant’ ticket – across parts of Europe and North America, which have continued to vilify and discriminate against racialized groups (Giroux, 2017). Such a rise can also be linked to a more general rise of nationalist and populist rhetoric in which the re-statement of primordial ideals, essentialist national identities and xenophobia appear to have their origins in and after 9/11 and the global financial crisis of 2008 (Gamble, 2018; Giroux, 2017). Before this, the so-called ‘clash of cultures’ between ‘East’ and ‘West’ had for decades seen geopolitical, economic and sometimes military manoeuvre and confrontation between global superpowers, their allies and their proxies (Gerges, 1999). As a consequence, vociferous and often racially-charged debates emerged which centred upon issues of cultural imperialism, religious (in)tolerance and a ‘global war on terrorism’ and the continuing cultural racialisation of populations, particularly Muslims from the middle-East and south Asia (Lenneis & Agergaard, 2018; Record, 2003). Yet even then the root causes of many of these problems go deeper, into centuries of global wealth inequalities created and exacerbated by colonialism and imperialism, stretching back and beyond the global slave trade of the 18th and 19th centuries, with its echoes engendering the present (De Genova, 2018). Indeed, so extensive are the issues being swept-up and attached to the BLM movement that there is a danger its messages may become unwieldy and its impact diluted.

This complex interweaving of historical processes has been echoed in academic study for decades as sociologists of sport have researched how race and ethnicity are articulated in and through sport (e.g. Allison, 1982; Long et al., 2000; Long & Hylton, 2002). Racialised dynamics shift and change, for example, multiple studies continue to highlight the lived experiences of migrants in sport, whether refugees, economic migrants or the descendants of migrants (e.g. Michelini, 2020; Schlesinger et al., 2020; Spracklen et al., 2014). Similarly, the lived experiences of discrimination amongst racialized groups have long been the focus of studies in the sociology of sport (e.g. Agergaard & Sørensen, 2009; Burdsey, 2006a, 2009; Campbell, 2020; Carrington, 1998; Evans & Piggott, 2016; Hylton 2018; Lenneis & Pfister, 2017; Long et al., 2009; Maguire, 1988; Van Sterkenburg & Knoppers, 2004; Westwood, 1991). Nevertheless, the recent slew of public crises facing the world has heightened the urgency for such a study. Whether due to the COVID-19 pandemic and its associated social and economic consequences in society and sport (Evans et al., 2020; Nicola et al., 2020), health inequalities due to the virus (Malcolm & Velija, 2020; Townsend et al., 2020), the ongoing police brutality, detention of migrants and systemic racism (Amara et al., 2005; Bryant‐Davis et al., 2017; Spaaij et al., 2019; Stura, 2019), racialized groups have been negatively and disproportionately affected. Indeed, sport has been a central context in which debates and protests around many of these issues have played out.

Approaches to social justice in sport, however, have been inconsistent, wide-ranging, often sympathetic, but always contested. They are also not entirely new, and protests against racial inequality have been occurring in sport for some time. See, for example, the actions and politics of sports figures such as Colin Kaepernick and Megan Rapinoe, both under the spotlight in the mass-media for years prior to George Floyd’s murder (Dickerson & Hodler, 2020; Hylton, 2020). Yet the pandemic and overt demonstrations of police and state force have served to further magnify racial inequality and place it at the centre of public dialogue thus giving more traction to key messages associated with BLM.

Nevertheless, in sport some actions in support of racial equality have lacked empathy, and at times subverted or resisted, highlighting deep and long-standing ethnic divisions. For instance, at the time of writing, players in the American NBA, WNBA and MLB are striking in support of social justice following the shooting of another unarmed Black man (Jacob Blake) again in the USA (Mathis, 2020). In the UK, the English Premier League required that players’ names on their shirt be replaced with ‘Black Lives Matter’ and an associated badge for the first 12 matches of the restarted 2019/20 season, although the Premier league has moved to distance itself from what it considers to be the ‘political’ elements of the BLM movement (BBC Sport, 2020). Indeed, some sports federations had to reverse previous decisions to ban antiracism activism (Goldman, 2020). Elsewhere, Formula 1 racing drivers, American Footballers and other athletes, both men and women and on occasion whole teams (regardless of ethnicity), continue to ‘take the knee,’ an act previously banned by the governors of some competitions such as the NFL (Woodward & Mindock, 2020). Yet some athletes have refused to support such activism publically for various reasons, some of whom are from racialized groups (Irish Times, 2020). Despite this, the overall trend has been of support for racial equality, and multiple sports stars, including Colin Kaepernick and Megan Rapinoe but also Lewis Hamilton, Raheem Sterling, Coco Gauff, Naomi Osaka, Nadia Nadim and John Amaechi, have become prominent leaders and activists (e.g. Sky Sports, 2020; Amaechi, 2020). Paradoxically, despite the platform of such international stars to express support towards racial equality, it has also been outlined how their critical voices can be silenced in contemporary ‘identity politics’ (Agergaard, 2019). What’s more, solidarity has been demonstrated in unexpected quarters such as NASCAR, with its close association with the colonial south (Paybarah, 2020), and sports teams such as the Washington Redskins have reconsidered their appropriation of Indigenous American imagery in their branding and name change to Washington Football Team (Schad, 2020). Ironically, in a place with no history of native American settlement, there is little indication that K.A.A. Gent in Belgium plan to change their ‘Native American Chieftain’ logo, which is very similar to that of the Redskins’ former crest (see www.kaagent.be/en/our-club/logo). This raises questions about the extent to which symbolic change can lead to systematic change concerning racial equality in sport.

Despite the apparent progress gained by the BLM movement in news cycles and public awareness, there has been and continues to be resistance. Indeed, the symbolic and public support for the BLM movement has been as remarkable as the resistance to it has been vociferous. Thus, questions remain about whether any changes resulting from protests will lead to lasting systematic change, or to any demonstrable change in the everyday lives of racialized communities. Both are interdependent. Yet both systemic racism and the lived realities of racialized people are obfuscated, avoided, questioned or simply dismissed. Indeed, in many cases, opponents of BLM have attempted to subvert such terminology in ways that position the activists as intolerant. Hence, the fluidity, contentiousness and sometimes pure ignorance (sometimes affected) about the use of terminology and concepts related to race, ethnicity, racial inequality and social justice require continuous clarification.

Given these trends, we feel it is well worth re-highlighting how several of the most contentious terms are utilised in order to provide some clarity. Furthermore, we intend to stimulate further discussion on the subject of how issues pertaining to race/ethnicity and sport play out in the peaks and troughs of public racial awareness.

Back to basics: from the systemic to the specific, and back again

Let us begin by making some simple statements. Although it is a very old and contested term (traceable to the ancient Greeks), racism continues to be a debated term. Consequently, it can be nebulous and awkward to define. In its most simple terms, however, racism can refer to a belief system predicated upon ideologies that different races exist, and have different qualitative characteristics, abilities or qualities. These assumptions are often used in ways that make it possible to distinguish ‘races’ one from another, usually in order to set them in some sort of hierarchy. As outlined by Carmichael (later Kwame Ture) and Hamilton (Carmichael et al., 1992, p. 4);

Racism is both overt and covert. It takes two, closely related forms; individual whites acting against individual blacks, and acts by the total white community against the black community. We call these individual racism and institutional racism. The first consists of overt acts by individuals, which cause death, injury or the violent distruction of property. This type can be recorded by television cameras; it can frequently be observed in the process of commission. The second type is less overt, far more subtle, less identifiable in terms of specific individuals committing the acts. But it is no less destructive of human life. The second type originates in the operation of established and respected forces in the society, and this receives far less public condemnation than the first type.

Others, however, have highlighted that such a definition tends to reinforce reductive racialised binaries of ‘White’ against ‘Black,’ and that racism is more complex than this. As outlined by Anthias and Yuval-Davis (1993, p. 2), racism exists in plurality. They note that racism(s) need to be understood as racialized because…;

modes of exclusion, inferiorization, subordination and exploitation that present specific and different characters in different social and historical contexts. … There is not a unitary system of signification that can be labelled racist nor is there a unitary perpetrator or victim.

The term race is often used interchangeably with ethnicity in everyday parlance at all levels of society. Yet for sociologists these are very different concepts. Race is a reference to subjective and constructed physiological and physiognomical differences between people. Ethnicity refers more to cultural differences. Neither term is uncontested. Nevertheless, the racialisation of ethnicity or replacement of the term race with ‘ethnicity’ does not change the certainty of subordination accruing to racialised ‘others.’

The evidence that race is significant and that racism exists is, frankly, overwhelming. Moreover, it is a regularly shared view that it can be observed and experienced at multiple levels; the systemic or structural, institutional, group, individual and at the cultural level (Jarvie, 2003). Still, racism is no monolith. It is mutable, contextual and intersected by other social inequalities related to class, gender, disability, religion, nationality and age. Racism is complex. Racism can and does lead to racial or ethnic discrimination (or ‘cultural racism’) (Burdsey, 2006a), which is the act of (re)producing or reinforcing inequality based upon racial stereotyping and prejudice, and yet racism does not require intention in order to exist (Murji, 2007). Again, such prejudice and prejudice leading to discrimination operate at multiple levels, including the systemic, cultural and individual levels. In sum, race/ethnicity as a subject of study is a labyrinthine one, both in sport and society.

One of the most striking things about the reaction from opponents of the BLM movement has been the propensity for those on both sides of the debate to simplify their arguments. There has also been a tendency to shift attention away from a general discussion about systemic racism towards drawn-out debates agonising over specific incidents, actions or symbols, disputing whether they are ‘racist’ or not. In such debates, it can almost seem as if racism is treated like an individual’s personality flaw, or absolute quality that a person (or symbol) is, or something that one ‘has.’ For example, the initial intention of BLM was to focus debate upon wider issues such as racial/ethnic and socioeconomic inequality, racially discriminatory policies, the simultaneous over-representation of racialized groups in prisons and the under-representation of racialized groups in positions of power (including in sports management and governance positions) and policy brutality in general. Indeed, such decontextualisation of racialised or discriminatory actions or moments from their place within wider historical, structural or systemic processes could be described as a form of colour-blindness (Bonilla-Silva, 2006). In this sense, for the BLM movement, racism and racial acts of defiance are disconnected from politics (not seen as part of a system of racial marginalisation or as a political act respectively) and instead are reduced to mindless ‘acts’ of violence and criminality (Garner, 2010).

Despite this, many debates quickly shift erratically from whether or not the police officers in the video of the murder of George Floyd were guilty, or whether statues of people associated with the slave trade or colonialism should be removed (e.g. Bland, 2020). Furthermore, it was discussed if a song with links to a colonial past should be sung at a concert (Sky News, 2020), or even whether young ‘immigrants’ make people feel unsafe on public transport (Jyllands Posten, 2020). So much for challenging the foundations of systemic racism.

The net effect of these fundamental shifts in focus has meant that ways to address systemic racism have remained on the margins of popular discourse. Similarly, positive responses to the BLM movement have often been viewed as symbolic or tokenistic; the change of a sports team logo, although decades in the making, is unlikely to demonstrably alter the conditions of life for Native Americans. Similarly, taking a knee in protest, labelling a sports kit with a ‘positive message’ of support or ‘recognising racism’ smacks of saying, not doing (Ahmed, 2004). Such reactive, largely ahistorical actions leave significant room for scepticism about whether racism at any level will be disrupted, particularly when such actions come ‘from within’ sports organisations (Hylton, 2020). And yet evidence of systemic and institutional racism remains overwhelming (Murji, 2007). Examples of studies of systemic racism and its effects are a common focus for academics in sport. Foci include the chronic underrepresentation of Black coaches (Bradbury, 2016; Rankin-Wright et al., 2016), educational inequalities in PE (Dagkas, 2016; Dagkas et al., 2019), inequalities and negative experiences in sports club participation (e.g. Campbell, 2013; Long et al., 2009; Schlesinger et al., 2020), the division of sports leagues along national or ethnic lines (e.g. Burdsey, 2009; Evans & Piggott, 2016; Long et al., 2009), racism amongst fans and in the sports media (Farrington et al., 2015; Johal, 2001; Kilvington & Price, 2017; King, 2000). Such is the pervasiveness of this systemic racism that, as has been noted elsewhere, ‘the nature of systemic racism is that it requires no active part to be perpetuated and maintained’ (Hylton, 2018, 2020 p. 5).

Racism, of course, negatively affects racialized groups more than others. Unsurprisingly then, accounts of racist discrimination, inequality, abuse and conflict are also widespread in the sociology of sport research (e.g. Bradbury et al., 2020; Burdsey, 2004, 2006b; Campbell, 2013, 2020; Coram & Hallinan, 2017; Ratna & Samie, 2018). Yet elsewhere, first-hand accounts of what it means to experience racial inequality are not heard as much as might be hoped or expected, including from academics themselves. Moreover, when such voices are heard by policy-makers, they are frequently questioned, challenged, dismissed or simply marginalised, particularly when they highlight the intersection of race/ethnicity with other inequalities and dimensions of power (Lenneis & Agergaard, 2018; Ratna & Samie, 2018). Such silent groups including refugees, migrants, Muslims, Black athletes and others, who have been observed to have their critical voices silenced in political and public debates (Agergaard, 2019), while they also negotiate their options within sport (Agergaard & Engh, 2017). Put differently, such voices are often marginalised through processes that have been collectively referred to as the operation of ‘Whiteness.’

Identity has often been seen to be operating through labelling differences in the ’other,’ whilst typically denying the labelling of the self (Long & Hylton, 2002). In sport, this ‘othering’ of specific ethnic groups has typically focussed upon Black, Asian, Muslim and migrant communities. It assigns race to these ‘others’ (Lorde, 1984). In other words, Whiteness is often invisible and yet at the centre of racializing others, to position them on the ‘outside,’ and to exclude them from the ‘we,’ ‘us’ and from the ‘normal everydayness’ of sport. The sovereignty of Whiteness is counter-positioned against the racialised ‘other’ by defining what is customary, expected and the way ‘busines is done.’ It is often a silent process (Carrington, 1998). Hence, the descendants of migrants to Denmark in the 20th Century (typically from Turkey and the Middle East) are rarely described as ‘Danes,’ even though they might have Danish citizenship, speak perfect Danish and have lived their entire lives in Denmark. Instead, they are given a special signifier: Efterkommer – literally, the ‘after-comers,’ presumably because they ‘arrive’ (or are simply born) after those perceived to be the original migrants. Such people, who can collectively include second, third-generation family members born in Denmark, maybe legally Danish in every respect, but they are not considered ‘true’ Danes (Gudrun Jensen et al., 2017). Those described as ‘Ethnic Danes’ require no additional label. Given the target of much of the rhetoric surrounding immigration in Denmark, this gives the strong impression that both ‘Danes’ and migrants/descendants (efterkommere) are associated with specific perceived and physical differences based on essentialist notions of genetics. Hence, Whiteness can appear to relate to a ‘race-less,’ normalised identity in much of Europe, often intertwined with notions of nationality (Hylton & Lawrence, 2015). In sport, the ‘other’ might be defined according to old racist tropes and prejudices, including essentialist perceptions relating to appearance, physiognomy or ability amongst ethnic groups. Moreover, it might define the other according to caricatures of cultural practices, which serve to label and differentiate the practices and beliefs of the ‘other’ as non-normative, deviant or even a threat to the normative culture (Jarvie, 2003). Conversely, such labels are applied to the normative group less often. They often remain unsaid (Long & Hylton, 2002).

Yet despite these professions of the invisibility of Whiteness, of course, Whiteness is only invisible to those who inhabit it, or benefit from it. For racialised groups, Whiteness can seem all pervasive, all embracing. Yet it is also mutable, contested and fluid (Ahmed, 2004). Whiteness is a racial process. It is not an essential ‘thing.’ It does not relate to a particular community, nor does it apply to all White people (as has been argued by those who would resist anti-racism). Yet it clearly manifests itself through White privilege.

White privilege is hotly contested by some opponents of BLM (often White working-class people), going by the response to John Amaechi’s ‘BBC Bitesize’ video which simply and lucidly explained the term (Amaechi, 2020), who seemingly argue that it cannot exist due to their own personal lack of material wealth. Conversely, scholars of race/ethnicity argue that White privilege operates in nebulous and ambiguous ways. Put differently, White privilege relates as much to the absence of tangible barriers, as much as it might lead to tangible unearned advantages. Whiteness becomes an expression of a ‘taken for granted everydayness’ (Long & Hylton, 2002) packaged into an indivisible set of often intangible assets and the absence of outsiderness. Hence, systemic racism does not require an intention to discriminate (Murji, 2007). Examples of how such assets might manifest themselves have been outlined in more depth elsewhere (see Long & Hylton, 2002), but might include; the absence of being asked to speak on behalf of all the people of one’s racial group; being fairly sure that speaking to a person in charge is likely to mean talking to someone of one’s own race; that one can express oneself without people attributing it to one’s race; and the absence of worry that one will be subject to racially discriminatory behaviour while playing, spectating or officiating. Conversely, racialized groups might experience being assigned playing positions suited to perceived natural abilities (stacking) or being praised in relation to certain racialised features (Campbell & Bebb, 2020).

Given the mutable and often intangible nature of White privilege, it can be hard to recognise and counteract. Moreover, recognising and acknowledging that Whiteness and White privilege exist does not equate to action. Just as the introduction of a race equality policy is not the same as actively seeking racial equality. Simply recognising racism is not doing anti-racism (Ahmed, 2004). What’s more, the naivety required to assert that simply recognising racism would make us less inclined to be racist can create a type of intellectual elitism and, more often than not, the reinforcement of the supremacy of Whiteness in the academy and other places of power. It is no coincidence that so few of our colleagues in the sociology of sport are people of colour, even amongst those who study race/ethnicity and sport.

Moreover, we need to ensure that we recognise that racism is about more than individual acts (i.e. ignorance, wrongfulness etc.). Yet to limit such responsibilities onto institutions, ‘nations’ or other ‘us’ groups runs the risk of focussing on the institution or nation whilst simultaneously permitting individuals to abrogate responsibility for their own actions. Indeed, in so doing it can seem that recognition and criticism of Whiteness can be a critique of an entire institution or a demand for shame or repentance in ‘the nation’ (Ahmed, 2004). We have seen this happening with the BLM movement, where some have claimed that the removal of a statue or refusal to sing a nationalist song equates to a removal of ‘our’ (White-normative national) history or traditions, or to expressions of frustration of ‘the nation’ being required to apologise for the historical actions of its citizens. Both arguments miss the central point; this is not a zero-sum game, nor a contest between ‘Black’ and ‘White.’

Racism is more complex than this. Society is more complex than this. History is more complex than this.

We see such ‘us versus them’ arguments also in BLM’s opponents’ claims that the idea that Black Lives Matter somehow undermines the notion that other (White) lives also matter as if the two notions were somehow incompatible. Of course, all lives matter equally. Nobody is questioning this simple assertion. Those seeking racial equality are simply asking that this sentiment is applied equally to all on a daily basis irrespective of their ethnicity. At present, the overwhelming evidence from sport and its related domains suggest that Black and other minoritised ethnic lives are not treated equally and should matter more than they do.

Indeed, it has been noted that such reactionary tendencies highlight just how fragile Whiteness can be when those who would reproduce racist ideologies are confronted with their own privileged circumstances. It can also be observed how the recognition of White privilege, amplified by the BLM movement, has been equated to a personal attack by people who, in many cases, are themselves discriminated against in other ways (e.g. by socio-economic class, gender and so on) and therefore do not necessarily ‘feel’ privileged. In some instances, the constant emotional and intellectual challenge of asserting the facts of race leads to a form of disengagement with doubters that could be read as a form of self-protection (Eddo-Lodge, 2018). Such a view speaks to regular right-wing dismissals of ‘Whiteness studies’ or Critical Race Theory as being ‘about making White people ashamed,’ or in President Trump’s case ‘anti-American and divisive’ (Associated Press, 2020). For some (Ahmed, 2004), this backlash reaction is not anti-racist action. Such non-reflexive views are all too common and fail to recognise that the perspectives of racialized groups are equally valid. There is nothing new about the prevalence of this lack of reflexivity, even wilful ignorance, amongst some sections of the community, including in the academy – and it is certainly not limited to knowledge about racism. Indeed, even when presented within incontrovertible evidence of the systemic discrimination amongst many groups, together with the unequal impact that COVID-19 has had upon Black, Asian and minoritised ethnic communities, it seems there remains a tendency for some to ‘double down.’ Reflexivity can be an endangered commodity when it comes to race.

A call to action: a new special issue in the European Journal for Sport and Society

Social scientists in sport have an important part to play in making sense of these global trends, controversies and particularities, not least by studying political movements and counter-movements, as well as media portrayals of racialized groups, and their everyday racialised experiences. Consequently, given the weight of debate pervading the public sphere at present, it seems like there is no better time to pause, take stock, and reflect on what the ideals underpinning Black Lives Matter protests and the heightened racial awakening of 2020 means for those in sport (Hylton, 2020). We need to restate the potential of critical theoretical approaches sensitive to racial inequality and social justice (e.g. Hawkins et al., 2017; Hylton, 2008; Long et al., 2017; Ratna & Samie, 2018). Sociologists of sport need to examine in new detail racialised phenomena in sport and the lived experiences of specific people living in racialized communities, including the way that these experiences intersect with the present experiences of COVID-19, the migrant crisis, and the BLM movement. We need to understand not only the goals and actions of protesters, activists, BLM supporters and their allies, but also to reflect upon the actions and beliefs of their opponents and those who would seek to maintain the status quo. We formally invite allies and scholars not traditionally engaged with sport, race and ethnicity, we wish to also improve our collective understanding of those critical of approaches to racial equality. We need to reflect upon our actions and potentialities, as academics, to engage both with the wider community, but also how we can contribute within our own institutions.

Hence, as Editors we take this opportunity to announce a new call for papers for a special issue on ‘Black Lives Matter:’ Sport, Race and Ethnicity in Challenging Times in the European Journal for Sport and Society; not as an end, nor even a beginning, but as a waymarker to provide some direction at this most exigent and inspiring of times. Our call is therefore open to theoretical, empirical or conceptual submissions from sociologists of sport focussed upon race/ethnicity, their intersections, and allied areas of inquiry.

Given the present context and the multiple, intersecting concerns that face us, we have considered several broad questions to be particularly cogent. These include;

• How do experiences of racism and discrimination shape our sport and physical activity?

• How are the several moral waves of panic and crises concurrent with the Black Lives Matter movement, including the COVID-19 pandemic and ‘Migrant Crisis’ in Europe and North America intertwined with racial/ethnic relations in sport?

• How do athletes show resistance against discriminatory practices based on race, ethnicity and religion?

• In this regard, what is ‘White allyship’ and how does it work?

• How do sports organisations manage racism(s) and discrimination?

• How is the current spike in activism related to systemic racialised issues?

• What are the consequences of the media racialisation of athletes and sports?

• What can the sociology of sport learn from race relations in cyberculture?

• How can academics, contribute to racial justice in sport and the academy?

• And finally, what practical possibilities and limitations exist in sport that might contribute to (or hinder/subvert) the BLM movement, and in addressing inequality beyond the places of sport?

We wait in anticipation of the community’s contribution.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).