The following article appeared in the Fall 2020 edition of Bruin Blue Magazine.
By Jon Gold
Walking across the hallowed halls of UCLA's Westwood campus, the latest bumper crop of talented Bruin student-athletes already felt as if they were among rarified air. They stand on the shoulders of giants, that much they know.
It would be one thing if these were just titans of sport that these Bruins have followed. But emerging from an athletic department that has strived to be a bastion of progress for a century, UCLA's heroes have often achieved more off the field of play than on.
Their names are synonymous with the times in which they lived.
"UCLA as an institution over time has been a beacon of change," redshirt freshman quarterback Chase Griffin said. "They've done it through the students and the student-athletes who came through here. Jackie (Robinson), Arthur (Ashe), Kareem (Abdul-Jabbar), Jackie Joyner (Kersee), these are legends, not just of sports, but of social progress. UCLA mirrors that progress."
And now, cast with the enormous task of being a collegiate student-athlete in the midst of a pandemic and a time of widespread social unrest, the latest UCLA stars understand the responsibility that the times demand.
Their goal? Leave a similar legacy.
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As the starting quarterback for a vaunted Pac-12 football program, Dorian Thompson-Robinson is accustomed to having all eyes on him.
His is not exactly a role that draws wallflowers.
Yet until earlier this year, he found himself biting his tongue.
What changed?
Was it the moment in time, the enormity of a pandemic converging with a cultural revolution? Was it the rising of status, the result of being a returning starting quarterback with almost 30 touchdowns under his belt? Was it simply his location?
"First and foremost, I think we're all blessed to be in the position to go to UCLA, and for UCLA to give us a voice to express our opinions," he said. "Just being able to have a platform and speak my mind is a blessing."
More than any of that, though, is this: He felt a sense of urgency.
"With everything going on in the world, college football starting with Covid, Black Lives Matter and everything in between, it's a time for everybody to use their voice," he said. "That's what I'm advocating for, with my family, my friends and definitely my teammates. Take advantage of this time and use your voice. It may not be as heard as much after this."
Thompson-Robinson is no stranger to raising his voice above the huddle, but this time it's different. His was among 30 signatures in a letter to UCLA officials demanding proper oversight over the handling of Covid-19-related issues, rendered a moot point when the Pac-12 suspended all fall sports. He also attempted to pursue a fundraiser during the summer, taking the lead from Clemson quarterback Trevor Lawrence. Thompson-Robinson hoped to sell 100 custom-made hoodies through his FriendsOverFans brand, with the proceeds being divided
between the 100 Black Men of America chapters in Los Angeles and his hometown of Las Vegas.
"Around when the quarantine started, you saw a lot of the NFL guys talking about trying to use their voice, the NBA, all of them – well, I'm in college, so what's the best way to use what I have available to me to produce the most I can?" he said. "Just from speaking with my team, after I did the fundraiser and had a lot of the guys participating in that, some of my former teammates started fundraisers, too. It definitely sparked something within the team and in the community.
"People want to make a change."
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Twenty-point-three miles.
Lauryn Miller was 15 years old and about to head into her junior year at Kirkwood (Mo.) High School when her world changed. When the world changed.
On Aug. 9, 2014, just 20.3 miles down the road from Kirkwood on Canfield Dr. in nearby Ferguson, 18-year-old Michael Brown was shot and killed by police officer Darren Brown after being stopped for jaywalking.
The killing sent shockwaves through the community, the country and the globe. "Hands up, don't shoot," became a rallying cry. The Black Lives Matter movement began to take shape, after being formed just a year prior after the acquittal of Florida resident George Zimmerman for the murder of Black teenager Trayvon Martin.
For a young star basketball player, the two deaths were a blow to a psyche. One after the next.
"The topic itself was nothing new," said Miller, a star contributor on the UCLA women's basketball squad. "My parents always made sure we were aware of who we are, aware of the good and the struggle that comes with being Black in America."
At 15, the lesson was seared into her brain, and just more than six years later, the scars are still there. Of course, they are. New ones, too. Ahmaud Arbery. George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. She couldn't escape their haunting images if she tried.
Now, in the middle of a sweltering summer of civil unrest, Miller is using her platform to bring racial injustice to light.
Never exactly shy to speak her mind, Miller has been emboldened.
"This summer has been the freest I've felt," she said. "As a student-athlete, you're taught to be careful with how you handle social media. That is people's first dose of you. At times you're supposed to shy away from certain conversations. This summer has been the first time I've felt all-hands-on-deck. It feels liberating to be so honest."
Most crucially to Miller is the unified voice that has emerged from her program and her peers.
"This year, it has been cool to have conversations with white teammates who are having an open heart," she said. "There are barriers I can't break down because there are white spaces I can't enter. It's going to take people who don't look like me being willing to check people."
There have been productive talks and tough ones, too. White teammates asking if she preferred "Black" to "African-American," some just calling to check in on her.
"The conversation has to come from them," she said. "There has to be a want. If Black people could solve the issue, it would be long gone."
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Inclusion and acceptance is also at the forefront for another student-athlete at UCLA.
Kalyany Steele was nervous for days. Weeks. Months. Maybe her whole life.
She had a secret to tell her UCLA women's gymnastics teammates, and even though she knew they would handle the news with the grace they display on the balance beam, she understood that speaking her soul would mean opening the door to a new world.
A world in which Steele was openly bi-sexual.
As the team's Pride Meet approached, Steele was steeled. She saw how her Bruin brethren were embracing not just the message of Pride, but the responsibility that comes with their platform. The duty, even.
During the team's last practice before the Pride Meet, Steele revealed her secret. Then came the hugs and the flood of support.
"When I told my teammates, that was the first huge step," she says. "It felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. But it's a process. It's a matter of telling everyone in your life."
For a popular UCLA gymnast, that's a lot of people, and a lot of conversations.
But it didn't stop there. There was a bigger conversation to be had.
Steele felt an obligation to make her story known. Who knows what budding young gymnast out there is facing that same internal battle, Steele wondered. On June 30, she went public in a UCLA Gymnastics Twitter post, in a viral video entitled, "Love, Kalyany." It was a message from Steele to her younger self.
"Dear, Kalyany," she begins. "You're a teenager living in a small town in Colorado where you've grown up most of your life. You love gymnastics, writing is your favorite subject, and rainbows make you really happy. You always feel different from everyone else; people judge you for being weird or awkward. And nobody likes weirdos, so you start to build up walls to protect yourself from the world."
Those walls, they've started tumbling down.
It's hard to fly when you're carrying all those bricks.
"I feel like my life didn't change drastically at all," she said. "It was the same outside ... but internally it felt different. I could be myself now, like there was nothing to hide. The only thing that is different now is the way I look at myself and my capabilities."
Days after sharing her secret, Steele had her best score of the young UCLA gymnastics season. She was unsurprised.
"Any emotional thing you have going on outside of the gym ends up affecting you inside of the gym," said Steele, who scored a then season-high 9.850 on the uneven bars in the Pride Meet against Arizona.
She would score no lower than 9.850 the rest of the season. She was free. Maybe for the first time.
Now her goal is simple: Help other young gymnasts feel just as free, especially if they have a secret weighing them down.
"I've gotten so many private messages from different fans, saying how I inspired them to do the same thing, to come out to the people they love," Steele said. "I gave them hope that the people in their lives would be accepting."
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When new Alice and Nahum Lainer Family Director of Athletics, Martin Jarmond, was hired in mid-May, one of his first acts of business was to enact the #VotingMatters initiative across the athletic department. He'd spoken to athletes across the spectrum, and what he heard both impressed and enthralled him.
"It just starts with having candid and honest conversations," Jarmond said. "This is bigger than the sport they play. I believe in helping them find their voice. Providing a platform and an opportunity for them to utilize it. We announced the Voting Matters (initiative) because I heard from student-athletes that they wanted to do something and have an impact. My job is helping them understand where they can be impactful.
"It starts with telling them at UCLA, you're a Bruin, there is more expected out of you to lead, to be someone who, when you leave Westwood, has a chance to impact the world."
UCLA redshirt freshman quarterback Griffin heard those words, and they went straight to his heart.
"At a place like UCLA, a place that has been a beacon of change, what better way to participate than performing our civic duty?" Griffin said.
One of the most outspoken Bruins on campus, Griffin hails from a small town in Texas, where he is a former Gatorade Player of the Year. He's seen a cultural shift over just a few years in his hometown, particularly as his predominantly Black football team brought great success to a predominantly white and Hispanic community.
Los Angeles is about as far away from Hutto, Texas, as it gets.
"That being said, I would say that type of change is needed everywhere," Griffin said. "People in LA ask me, how is it different in Texas? And I would say there are elements of systemic racism everywhere. It's America, and probably the rest of the world. That's why it is important to change the status quo."
And that, Griffin believes, is accomplished through one voice and through one vote.
"As a Bruin, I saw UCLA mirror exactly what I'm about," he said. "We bring progress. We push culture forward. We make positive change that lasts. That's all I want to do. And that's whether I can do it on the field by pushing the athletic culture forward, or off the field, and making sure students understand the power of their voice."