A brief note on vulnerability
Taking a moment to recognize it is hard to stay focused sometimes
As the rebuilding season kicks off, my mind turns to migration. To transition. Not necessarily on the court—though that too—but in general. As the poet Gloria Gervitz writes, “we’re always migrating within ourselves.” In her most famous, and only, work Gervitz explores all the ways we’re constantly moving—through memory, personal growth, across space—not just forward but also back.
All of this came to me during a very distracted and distressing weekend. I woke up to push notifications and texts about the attacks in Israel. This is not going to be a post about what is happening or the tragedy that has taken place, is unfolding, and is likely to come. What struck me amid a weekend of constantly refreshing feeds and intense texts was Wizards forward Deni Avdija’s post on Instagram (I’ve pasted it as a photo because I couldn’t figure out how to embed his English translation of the original Hebrew):
There has been a lot made of the growth of international players in the NBA. Despite the photos of Nikola Jokic riding horses in the off season, there’s very little acknowledgment of what and who is left behind. This makes sense on some level; guys are coming here to play basketball and live a dream. In a cut-throat league, any sign of perceived weakness will almost undoubtedly get exploited on the court or online. But this is exactly what made Deni’s post stand out to me.
The NBA, and corporate America generally, have increasingly talked about “talking about” mental health. Everyone wants you to be aware of mental health awareness. We’re told we should make sure we talk to someone. What has happened less often is someone showing vulnerability in real time and saying that their mind is not on the game. Yes, guys cite personal reasons or take time off or will note that they are going through something. But Deni’s post specifically notes that his thoughts are pulled back home. Understandably so.
Migration is a state of flux. In announcing that he’ll be playing for Team USA, Joel Embiid made it clear that you can feel at home in many places and in many ways. In his post, Deni, the NBA’s only Israeli player, showed why there is more to the simple observation that “international players are taking over the league.” Deni didn’t play in the Wizards first pre-season game, a blow-out against overseas visitors, the Cairn Taipans. And who can blame him? Maybe his back really is sore. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling it.
It is easy to miss the humanity of players once they take to the court. What glimpses we do get tend to be guarded, for good reason no doubt. The combination of seeing the same faces a few times a week, social media, articles, and team-approved interviews can provide some guise of understanding who these people are. But we can’t really know. At least not in any real way. That’s not to say that personalities don’t come through, both on and off the court.
This isn’t a post about Israel and Palestine. There’s plenty of that to go around. It’s about recognizing that we should remember each player is a person and each person is work in progress. I mentioned that Gloria Gervitz only published one poem, Migrations, during her life. She worked on that same poem over the course of 44 years and seven different published editions. The work was never really finished. Even when we think we’re done and we’ve let people in, there is always more to say.