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The Department of Education has declared historically black colleges and universities (HBCUs) a rich resource for the nation – one that elicits pride and connotes achievement, according to its Website. ¹ Those same institutions are grappling with an increasingly competitive environment in higher education. HBCUs remain a formidable force, but the question remains: How can they continue to compete and thrive in the complex, dynamic world of academe?

The answer: By playing to their strengths and forging new paths.

Essentially, HBCUs' greatest strength is their cultural makeup. Higher education is becoming increasingly competitive as universities of all sizes battle smaller population, a thriving economy, and less interest in academia (and its resulting debt). HBCUs, which have long been able to attract African-American students due to their status as cultural icons, now find themselves losing ground not only due to these issues but also due to the integration of institutions and the inflated costs of these mostly private institutions.

Some options that administrators have considered include merging with other institutions, marketing themselves to students of other races or nationalities, and creating specialized offerings (drone technology, for example) to remain competitive. But there is another option, and that is to take their strength – attracting African-American students – and create partnerships with corporations, government entities, and predominantly white institutions (PWIs).

The goal of such partnerships would be to increase philanthropic donations from and provide cultural exchanges and perspectives to diversity-sparse professional and education institutions that have nothing to lose and everything to gain by helping to produce well-trained workers of color.

This chapter would explore how HBCUs can develop private partnerships and leverage them to compete in today's world of higher education.

In 2020, Sports Illustrated proclaimed its “Sportsperson of the Year” as something dubbed “the activist athlete,” choosing five athletes – LeBron James, Breanna Stewart, Patrick Mahomes, Naomi Osaka, and Laurent Duvernay-Tardif – that represented the term. Like so many athletes who came before them, these athletes vividly demonstrate the potential of sport to shine a spotlight on critical issues in society, yet again solidifying how sport does not exist merely as some kind of escape, but is a major stakeholder in global campaigns for social justice.

This chapter historicizes the contemporary resurgence of athlete activism, largely connected to the reawakening of Black Lives Matters (BLM) in 2020, within what journalist Howard Bryant has called The Heritage, with athletes who acknowledge and accept the charge to use their spotlights for those who have none. From the turning point of the Mexico City Olympics in 1968, which saw collective movements of African-American athletes culminate in the powerful Black power protest by Tommie Smith and John Carlos, a protest that built upon the legacies of so many, to the ongoing debates that surround the International Olympic Committee's (IOC) Rule 50, athletes have long understood how sport serves not only as an integral part of society but also as an agent for change. Contemporary cries for athletes to “shut up and dribble” echo past claims that sport takes place on a level playing field that transcends politics. The history of sports demonstrates otherwise, as athletes embody every imaginable, intersectional, classification of political actor.

For much of its peak popularity in the 1970s and 1980s, women in action films were relegated to the damsel in distress and/or the romantic interest for the male lead. This was particularly evident in action films where women were depicted as being petite and submissive, especially towards the heroic male. Rarely did women occupy the primary focus in action films. Nowadays women are more frequently occupying positions of creative power as producers and actors, and there are some notable examples of progressive female roles in modern film. Female action stars tended to occupy one of two roles, that of what Marc O'Day (2004) labelled ‘action babe’ cinema, using the colloquial and dismissive term ‘babe’ as an indication of the derogatory nature of the female action hero who was often just a supermodel with a gun. However, there has emerged another type of female action star, the tough, aggressive and physically capable female action star, such as Sarah Connor in Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1992).

Yvonne Tasker coined the term ‘musculinity’ to define this new model of tough women; female action stars who appropriate what are considered traditionally masculine traits (developed muscles, aggression, confidence, leadership skills, bravery). The presence of athletic women in action films, especially when compared to their male counterparts, defies expectations for women, and as such provides a unique example to analyse in terms of gender dynamics. This is especially true of combat sports, where aggression is a feature of the sport and still considered a testosterone-oriented attribute. Indeed, in the 1970s and 1980s, the peak of the male action star, martial arts and associated combat sports provided opportunities for many former athletes to transition into action films. Using Tasker's framework of musculinity, I will examine Haywire (2011) as a notable progression in the representation of female action stars and musculinity. Focusing on a case study of Gina Carano's role in Haywire, and her subsequent career narrative, this chapter highlights how perceptions of masculinity and femininity in both combat sports and action films have previously limited roles for women and how much that has shifted in contemporary filmmaking.

Although the commodification of black bodies amid state violence and widespread racism is nothing new, considering the histories of Hollywood, jazz, minstrelsy, or even athletes enslaved on plantations (Rhoden, 2006), the hyper commodification of the contemporary black athlete, alongside expansive processes of globalization, growth in the profitability of black bodies, and their importance within colorblind discourse, demonstrates the importance of commodification within our new racist moment. Likewise, the shrinking opportunities afforded to African American youth, alongside clear messages about the path to desired black masculinity (Neal, 2005; Watkins, 1998; West, 1994), push black youth into a sports world where the possibility of striking it rich leads to a “win at all costs” attitude. Robin Kelley argues that African American youth participate in sports or engage in other cultural practices as an attempt to resist or negotiate the inherent contradictions of post-industrial American capitalism (Kelley, 1998). Patricia Hill Collins describes this process in the following terms: “Recognizing that black culture was a marketable commodity, they put it up for sale, selling an essentialized black culture that white youth could emulate yet never own. These message was clear – ‘the world may be against us, but we are here and we intend to get paid’” (Collins, 2006, p. 298). Celia Lury concurs, noting that heightened levels of commodification embody a shift from a racial logic defined by scientific racism to one centering on cultural difference. She argues that commodity racism “has contributed to shifts in how racism operates, specifically to the shift from a racism tied to biological understandings of ‘race’ in which identity is fixed or naturalized to a racism in which ‘race’ is a cultural category in which racial identity is represented as a matter of style, and is the subject of choice” (Lury, 1996, p. 169; as quoted in Spencer, 2004, p. 123). In the context of new racism, as manifested in heightened levels of commodification of Othered bodies, racial identity is simply a choice, but a cultural marker that can be celebrated and sold, policed, or demonized with little questions about racial implications (Spencer, 2004, pp. 123–125). Blackness, thus, becomes little more than a culture style, something that can be sold on Ebay and tried on at the ball or some something that needs to be policed or driven out-of-existence. Race is conceptualized “as a matter of style, something that can be put on or taken off at will” (Willis as quoted in Spencer, 2004, p. 123). Collins notes further that the process of commodification is not simply about selling “an essentialized black culture,” but rather a particular construction of blackness that has proven beneficial to white owners. “Athletes and criminals alike are profitable, not for the vast majority of African American men, but for people who own the teams, control the media, provide food, clothing and telephone services, and who consume seemingly endless images of pimps, hustlers, rapists, and felons” (2006, p. 311). bell hooks, who describes this process as “eating the other,” sees profit and ideology as crucial to understanding the commodification of black bodies. “When race and ethnicity become commodified as resources for pleasure, the culture of specific groups, as well as the bodies of individuals, can be seen as constituting an alternative playground where members of dominating races…affirm their power-over in intimate relations with the other” (Hooks, 1992, p. 23). She, along with Collins, emphasizes the importance of sex and sexuality, within this processes of commodification, arguing that commodification of black male (and female) bodies emanates from and reproduces longstanding mythologies regarding black sexual power.

Political dissent threads through the history of the Olympic Games. Although the International Olympic Committee (IOC) openly prohibits athletes from injecting politics into the Games, Olympians have nevertheless staged protests, using the Olympics to challenge the predominant power structures and institutions. This chapter analyzes outbursts of athlete activism in the context of wider social movements that make these political paroxysms more viable. Social movements scythe political space for athletes, spark athletes' political imaginary, and provide support and cover. From the early days of the Games, Olympic athletes have expressed dissent, as when Irish track-and-field athlete Peter O'Connor rebelled against British colonialism at the 1906 Olympics in Athens. At the Mexico City 1968 Games, Czech gymnast Vera Čáslavská carried out a politically symbolic acts as did US sprinters John Carlos, Tommie Smith, and Wyomia Tyus. At the 1972 Munich Games, US track medalists Vincent Matthews and Wayne Collett protested in nonchalant fashion on the medal stand. At the 1980 Olympics, Polish Olympian Władysław Kozakiewicz issued politically provocative symbology on the pole vault mat that challenged Soviet hegemony. In the twenty-first century, numerous Olympians have made political statements, despite a rule in the Olympic Charter that forbids such activity. In each case, athlete activists were bolstered by vibrant political movements in their home country. In this chapter, I trace the relationship between political Olympians and social movements as well as the wider dialectic of resistance and restriction that encompasses the interplay between dissident Olympians and the IOC.

Despite increases in female participation and efforts to increase gender equity, sport remains a masculine and male-dominated institution. Women playing professional and elite sports challenge this preserve of masculinity and are often met with vehement opposition or blatant disregard (Messner, 2002). Though the challenges female athletes face in general have not diminished, some women's teams and certain female athletes, often with a variety of intersecting identities, have been empowered to succeed at international levels. We argue that many concessions made to women's sports in the United States are due to American Nationalism. Particular examples include women's baseball in the 1940s, which was seen as an extension of the war effort (Cahn, 2015); and recent support for the US Women's Soccer Team due to international dominance. In these cases, female athletes have been given the recognition and respect previously withheld for men. And often, this recognition focuses on people of colour or LGBTQ athletes; e.g. Wilma Rudolph, Megan Rapinoe, Venus and Serena Willams. We argue the recognition given to female athletes in general, and the sporting stars in particular, is due to nationalism and patriotism. Previous research has shown the connection between sport fandom, Olympism, professional sport, pride and nationalism (Horak & Spitaler, 2003; Morgan, 2000; Van Hilvoorde, Elling, & Stokvis, 2010). Within the media, Wensing and Bruce (2003) have shown how coverage changes for female athletes when their sporting endeavours are seen through a nationalist viewpoint. Through this lens, we will demonstrate that the increased support for professional female athletes via nationalism ultimately leads to the unravelling of traditional power structures, more inclusive practice in sport, and broader social change.

Activism in the sport world is often connected to iconic images like the raised fists of John Carlos and Tommie Smith in a Black Power salute at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics or the figure of Cathy Freeman, wrapped in the Aboriginal flag, taking her victory lap at the 1994 Commonwealth Games and the 2020 Sydney Olympics. Activism, be it individual or through collective action, is a contemporary reality in sport. These actions reverberate out, sometimes joining with or magnifying other significant social and political currents to create waves that shift society. They may take the form of supporting mental health conversations, developing sporting infrastructure and support to expand opportunities for the next generation, concerted efforts at changing governance representation, or challenging sexist policy in sports, for example. This chapter draws from a talanoa on activism in Pacific sport, bringing these various activities together in order to surface the activism taking place, and better understand and reframe how we think about sport activism in Pacific communities. On the one hand, we recognize that particular cultural values like humility, respect, and orientations to servant leadership naturally encourage activism in the form of everyday advocacy and grassroots interventions. On the other, we discuss whether these values also prevent more outspoken and disruptive forms of activism which are often required to challenge systems of injustice and enact structural change. In this preliminary look at Pacific activism in sport, we surface some insights and raise questions for future research.

This chapter provides an analysis of the history of politics in sport, how nationalism has amplified divisions in politics and sports and how social media has impacted politics in sports.

The authors examine how the nationalism narrative is present in sports, thus further enmeshing politics in sport. A review of literature and case studies are used to provide context of how athletes have used their social media for political purposes and how political ideologies and social media can impact international sport markets.

While politics and sports being deeply intertwined is not new, social media has pushed even publicly apolitical organizations to get involved in political discussions. Social media has allowed for some to continue pushing a nationalism narrative as it relates to sport and challenge athletes who appear to threaten seemingly nationalistic values. However, social media also enables athletes to engage their fans and advocate for themselves and political issues in real time.

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The chapter looks at nationalism, politics in sport and how social media can be used to further amplify and/or divide over political ideologies. Athletes are in a unique position to use their social media platforms to speak directly to their fans and engage in politics, pushing organizations to seemingly abandon their once public apolitical stances. This chapter examines how athletes, organizations and politicians are using social media to debate matters, advocate for social justice and call attention to a myriad of political issues.