I'm Kneeling With Rainelle
Rainelle Jones
All my life, I’ve been stuck trying to find my identity. I’ve constantly felt pressure from people around me asking what my race is because they can tell I’m not the “average” Black person. My giant afro and curly hair felt like I was seeking unwanted attention. Something naturally given to me felt like something I should hide.
I never got to meet people that I felt like I belonged to until after my freshman year at UMD. I got introduced to the Black community on campus and was so surprised at the environment this group of students had created. I got to meet people my age who also shared the same experiences of being a minority but feeling stuck in the middle of choosing between a group of people based on race.
That wasn’t the only thing that changed from my childhood and middle school years. Once I got to UMD, I started getting educated about equal rights, human rights, police brutality — the definitions and the perspectives that give those definitions context.
I slowly realized that I had built a whole life at UMD, outside of athletics, that many other student-athletes didn’t even know existed.
But here I was again, feeling separated into two completely different environments.
Just like in middle school.
Just like in high school.
And then, in 2020, George Floyd and Breonna Taylor were killed. It’s sad to recognize that sometimes it takes something as tragic as death to make a change, but that was the spark. Professional athletes started to kneel during the anthem, and I began having conversations with my teammates that I never thought would happen.
It was a difficult decision in the beginning. Should I kneel or not?
But those conversations I was having with my teammates turned into a string of support from my team saying, “I will support you no matter what, even if my own beliefs don’t align.”
That support from my team and the staff, alongside the inspiring professional athletes taking a stand, ultimately gave me the courage I needed to kneel during the national anthem.
Education turned activism
The first time I kneeled was with my entire team at Ohio State back in January.
I was anticipating a bit ‘more’ of a reaction, to be honest.
But you can’t give up on what you believe in just because it doesn’t create the outcome you had hoped for on your first try.
It was a long season, and I kneeled every single game. Sometimes with teammates, sometimes on my own.
Not much has changed until we played against Nebraska in November.
While I was kneeling, someone in the crowd called me a piece of trash and asked me to get up.
The entire team at Nebraska apologized for the behavior of those few fans and even talked to me about everything I’m doing.
It was unsettling but also great to see the reaction it created.
I ended up posting about it on social media, not for attention, but as a glimpse into the real world. The world I live in. I was hoping it could be a look behind the scenes at what so many people in our country are often oblivious to.
The messages of support I received from that post – the attention it brought to a cause that was so important to me were amazing. I wanted an outcome from me kneeling, don’t get me wrong. But I did not expect, when I woke up that next morning, for it to blow up the way it did.
I didn’t realize you could have that much of an impact as a college athlete.
Activism turned opportunity
There were some pretty big names reaching out to me with support, but I remember seeing a DM on Instagram about making merchandise with Spreadshop.
At the time, I don’t even know what’s going on. The new Name, Image, and Likeness laws were just introduced a few months ago. I had no idea where to begin or how to approach this.
But the team at Spreadshop made this incredibly easy.
I started working with one of their graphic designers who, using current events and my hair, created this incredible design with the slogan “I kneel with Rainelle.” My Spreadshop launched on Cyber Monday, and I’m currently spending winter break deciding what organizations or young players I want to support with the revenue I’m generating.
Every time someone orders my merch, I get a notification. Seeing my face printed on random people’s shirts is crazy but I couldn’t be more grateful for their support.
After all, I’m not doing this for money by any means. I’m doing this to raise funds for a much bigger cause.
After the volleyball season ended, I went to my sibling’s basketball game and was sitting in the student section when a girl who follows me on Instagram — calling herself a young activist — was telling me how much she admired me.
But then I realized how inspired I was by her, at that age, for having a stance and knowing what it was she wanted to fight for.
This merchandise, me kneeling, it’s all a chance for me to pay it forward and help those young activists fight this cause in their own way.
The messages of support I received from that post – the attention it brought to a cause that was so important to me were amazing. I wanted an outcome from me kneeling, don't get me wrong. But I did not expect, when I woke up that next morning, for it to blow up the way it did. I didn't realize you could have that much of an impact as a college athlete.
Opportunity turned motivation
Inspiration is a wave. I got my motivation and inspiration from the professional athletes, and I realize that younger kids are getting theirs from me and people like me.
That’s all the motivation I need to keep going and having the uncomfortable conversations.
If I had to pick one thing that will advance our society regarding the Black Lives Matter movement, it’s having those uncomfortable conversations that we aren’t used to having in our society, within our friend groups, within our work environments, and within athletics.
Because of my decision to kneel, I’ve been able to meet so many young kids that connect with my story personally or with the cause I’m fighting for. I’ve now had the opportunity to make merchandise and put money towards a good cause.
But, on a personal note, I’ve also found my identity.
Growing up — coming from a predominantly black area, playing a predominately white sport, and being biracial – there are so many angles that I was being pulled into.
I never knew where I fit in.
With this, I’ve been reassured that people see me, and they see what I’m fighting for.
