Asking what position I play is wrong

If you had mistaken me for a college athlete when I was in high school, I would have been flattered. But when I started my freshman year at UF in 2015, I quickly realized the hidden meaning behind the question: “What position do you play?”

It’s been almost 5 years since I’ve participated in any organized sports, none of which were football or basketball. As a teenager, I swam competitively for my high school and travel teams. As any swimmer can tell you, there are some things you can never shed: the broad shoulders and the big legs. Combined with a darker skin tone and 6-foot-2 height, and people around campus assume you’re a bona fide running back or point guard.

Now, you might be thinking, “What’s the problem with that? It must be cool for people to think you’re a Division I athlete.” Let me be clear: It is not cool.

Essentially, that question implies that because you’re a large male with a darker skin tone the only contribution you can offer is your athletic talent. While that assumption is offensive, I don’t necessarily fault people for making it. I fault the university for admitting a slim number of black students who don’t play sports. In August, the Tampa Bay Times published a story about UF’s shortcomings in black representation on campus. Claire McNeill, the author of the story, spoke with a researcher from the University of Southern California’s Race and Equity Center. The researcher had found that, while black men make up just over 2.2 percent of UF undergraduates, they comprise 78 percent of football and basketball rosters.

When you look at it in that context, how could you be mad at people for assuming you play ball? Simply put, there isn’t a proper representation of black men and women on campus. With nearly 17 percent of Florida’s population being African American, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for more than 2.2 percent to be represented at its premier university. On the other hand, the state is about 77 percent white, and about 57 percent of enrolled students at UF are white. That’s the type of representation I hope for black men and women here in the future.

It’s not just the student body that lacks representation. In my four years here, I’ve only had two black professors, both of whom were recent hires with no prior relationship to the school. When most of your teachers don’t look like you, there’s a sense that this place isn’t meant for you. I would even encourage black students who are considering coming to UF to keep in mind the demographics and what to expect.

People are going to look at you on campus like you don’t belong. They’re going to assume you’re a transfer student from Santa Fe. You might even go your entire time at UF having never had a teacher who looks like you. However, I think that should only motivate us to become an even louder voice on campus. We have realized UF has a problem with diversity and it's our responsibility to hold it accountable. The only way to change the status quo is to challenge it.

Elijah Rawls is a UF journalism senior. His column appears on Fridays.