“They can’t be what they don’t see.”
This belief is so deep-rooted in our American psyche, on repeat in our homes, schools and communities. The conversation around representation has traditionally focused on media, textbooks, corporate boardrooms and the powers that be. And yet, there is one more overlooked space where representation carries a profound psychological weight.
The awards podium.
As a society, we credit sports with building character, discipline and confidence. For Black youth, the experience of receiving an award carries a meaning that goes deeper than the sport itself. Awards carry the message: “You are seen. You are valued. You matter.”
Social work practice is rooted in the understanding that human beings don’t just need food, shelter and safety. We need dignity. We need identity affirmation. We need to see ourselves reflected in the world around us as worthy, capable and celebrated. We need possibility.
Dr. Kenneth and Dr. Mamie Clark’s Doll Studies in the 1940s demonstrated how Black children internalize messages of racial inferiority from their environment. That was over 80 years ago. The need for positive racial identity affirmation still exists.
When I was 19, I was introduced to “The Nigrescence Theory” (shout out Dr. William Cross, forever in Cornell hearts) which taught me how Black people develop racial identity. Seeing positive images in the environment helps youth to associate Blackness with excellence. It is why I have spent most of my career in the poorest Congressional district in the country. Youth of color need to see faces that reflect their own doing positive things, achieving and not leaving them behind. Ujamaa Awards is my next step.
Psychologist Albert Bandura teaches us that children who see people who look like them succeeding are more likely to believe that they too can succeed. When an award is designed with cultural intentionality, it becomes a tangible reminder of capability. A medal or trophy on the shelf is no longer decoration. It is affirmation.
Social belonging is identified as a fundamental human need. For Black youth who already navigate environments where their emotional well-being is an afterthought, think underfunded schools and money driven athletic programs, receiving an award in their image sends a powerful message. Academic performance, mental health outcomes and long-term resilience also matter. Black youth are constantly bombarded with negative social messages. Awards in their image provide a counter-narrative that “Excellence looks like me too.”
From a social work perspective, youth sports programs are a powerful intervention space. Here is where we introduce children in critical developmental windows to trusted adults. These adults are pivotal influencers over a child’s sense of self. It is in this space that many Black youth who are “invisible” in other systems, are “seen”. Giving Black youth generic awards in a venue meant to uplift them is a missed opportunity. Giving an award intentionally designed to honor their image and culture? That is an “intervention”. It is “community-based healing”. It is social work practice, without needing the licensed professional in the room.
Heads up all athletic directors, league coordinators, school administrators and coaches, you have more power than you realize. The awards you choose are not inconsequential decisions. They are “clinical decisions” that can impact how a child sees themselves for decades to come. When you choose awards that reflect the identity of your Black youth athletes, you promote positive racial identity development. You build self-efficacy and motivation. You disrupt internalized inferiority narratives planted by systemic racism. You provide youth development.
Social work discourse identifies protective factors. Protective factors are the elements in a child’s environment that buffer against trauma, poverty, racism and adversity. Positive racial identity is one of the most powerful protective factors we know for Black youth. An award in a Black child’s image is a protective factor. An award ceremony celebrating Black excellence is a protective factor. Recognition is a protective factor.
We have an opportunity to build these protective factors one award at a time in schools, on courts, on tracks and on football fields. Let’s not waste it.