By: Brittany Lee-Wright
As the world sits in mourning over the tragic loss of Kobe Bryant, and the even more arguably devastating loss of his daughter Gianna at 13, I sit to reflect on my emotions in this ongoing cultural shift: global connection.
Flashback to Sunday afternoon--
I’m leaving a lunch meeting with the young adults at my church, and I see the news on Baller Alert's Instagram. I’m sitting there thinking "This has got to be a TMZ hoax; Kobe make sure you sue the mess out of them!" As the news and speculation began to pour in, TMZ once again added more to the insanity by reporting on the death of Kobe and Vanessa’s baby Gigi. I once again kept hoping for “the real news stations” to provide hope. My emotions were further upheaved by the ultimate report of 9 people perishing—more daughters, mothers, and fathers.
Sitting back as an everyday person and fan, I watched the emotions of other athletes, sports commentators, news casters, social media moguls, and everyday social media users pour out their emotions, shock, and disbelief on the evolution of this the tragedy.
I continued watching NBA tributes and social media tributes, and I found myself taking breaks from social media for my own mental health. Every other post was a reminder of the lifelong holes that will be present in the hearts of Kobe's family.
I wondered, “What makes us connect so much to someone we’ve never truly known?”
Surely, those who have expressed so much irritation towards the public grief made a valid point: “yeah, it’s sad, but you didn’t even know him!”
But what does it mean to know someone?
Days since the tragedy I can only help to think there are others like me who wished this whole ordeal wasn’t true. We went to bed Sunday night hoping that this would be a distant nightmare once the morning came. But the “joy in the morning” didn't come.
So, let’s fast-forward to this moment where I decided to put my thoughts down on paper. I’m not claiming to have all the answers, but I did come to brain dump as I process my own emotions.
I’m a high school teacher of 11th and 12th grade students, and I make it my goal to bring real world situations into the classroom to provide safe spaces for critical conversations and learning. But I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bring this up with my students. I just didn’t want to talk about this. I wanted to keep going with my planned curriculum and allow that moment with my kids to be my safe mental reprieve against all the bad things the world had offered with these untimely deaths.
I'm still processing my thoughts on our global connection to Kobe Bryant and won't address this phenomenon in its entirety. I do want to address one lingering thought I’ve had on why so many people have not been just saddened by this story but shaken to the very core of their foundations. In turn, many are questioning the presence of God.
When I think of the great, capitalistic machine, which is America, I think of the "American Dream" concept. This all-consuming narrative pushed onto children and adults (locally and abroad) about the opportunities for and images of SUCCESS. *Sidebar--this narrative is never complicated with conversations on institutional oppressions. * And so, the American child especially is molded into believing that hard work will open doors to a multitude of successes. We grow up working hard and “chasing the bag.” We view the come-up stories of many professional athletes as the embodiment of this dream; the "work hard, become successful" mantra manifested.
If this is the case, Kobe Bryant epitomized the great American dream story. To many of us his life was viewed as “goals” and was a mirror of what we decided success looked like. His unmatched work ethic brought him a multimillion-dollar basketball legacy, a gorgeous family, and opened doors for him beyond the Staples Center Arena as an Oscar winner. Even when past indiscretions tried to bring him down, he was able to "shake the snakes" and move forward to an even stronger family life.
If we are honest with ourselves, we strive for that great American success story to play out similarly. We believe, "If I work hard, God will make sure I’m rewarded." So, we work, chase the bag, and wait impatiently for God to open the doors of financial, social, and familial success. We think we don’t need God to do much for us; just ensure our hard work brings those tangible goods into fruition.
But what if our goals won’t be defined by tangible success? If that is the case, is it possible that while we claim to trust God’s plan for our lives, we just want to rest in our own plans for our lives?
I think what makes the tragedy of Kobe’s story so life-altering for many of us is---we think of celebrities as having immunity. We think money and success afford a particular protection or shield that everyday people aren’t privy to.
But, if God would allow something like that to happen to Kobe and his young daughter, what sense of protection do I have in my own life?
For many people, fulfillment through our accomplishments is the ultimate destination. When we reach that point (whatever "that" is) everything else in life will ultimately be better. But what happens when our accomplishments can’t guarantee safety or even longevity of life? Is it possible for some that Kobe’s helicopter crash was symbolic to lost dreams, or trust in human control?
No matter your reasoning, as we connect from afar to grieve publicly, remember to pray for those families. Also, take a moment to reassess your own lives; is it time for you to reevaluate where your trust lies?