Former Ravens player Michael Oher's allegations speak to a history of the exploitation of Black bodies for white financial gain. (Baltimore Sun photo by Amy Davis)
The recent news regarding retired Baltimore Ravens star and Hollywood melodrama subject Michael Oher is distressing in a number of ways.
The protagonist of the Oscar-winning film "The Blind Side," based on a book by Michael Lewis of the same name, Oher has long been at the center of a number of compelling themes related to sports, class, and race in America. While many have encountered his story as a rags-to-riches narrative seen through the lens of a white family's benefaction and love, Oher's new allegations of financial exploitation suggest a darker side to the story — and speak to a history of the exploitation of Black bodies for white financial gain.
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The 2009 film, which grossed more than $300 million at the domestic box office, depicts Oher's seeming adoption by Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy in Tennessee. In the film, a neglected Oher — whose mother had addiction problems — struggles with homelessness and academic challenges after being placed in foster care. The Tuohy family, especially Leigh Anne, step in to rescue Oher — welcoming him into their home, offering academic support, and providing guidance on and off the field. The end result is a scholarship to play football at the University of Mississippi, and eventual NFL stardom.
The reality has always been murkier. While the film depicts Oher as a gentle, shy, giant struggling to make sense of the world around him, he has long chafed at that representation, noting that he was an accomplished athlete long before he met the Tuohys. It's hard not to catch the strong whiff of white savior narrative in the film's representation of Leigh Anne.
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Oher's recent allegations of exploitation — filed in court recently — make things even more troubling. While the film represents Oher as being adopted by the Tuohy family, Oher was instead linked to the family via a conservatorship, which gave them control over his financial decisions. Although Oher had acknowledged the distinction in the past, he says he only recently become aware of the financial impacts that decision has had on his life.
According to Oher and his attorney, the conservatorship has enabled the Tuohy family to profit from his accomplishments, especially his representation in the film, while denying him his fair earnings. By their accounting, Oher is owed millions from the film's success — money that the Tuohys received and did not share with him.
The Tuohy family disputes the allegations, indicating that they only received a small portion of the film's profits with each family member, including Oher, getting about $14,000. Sean Tuohy told reporters: "It's upsetting to think we would make money off any of our children. … But we're going to love Michael at 37 just like we loved him at 16."
Oher's allegations are troubling because they echo a number of past and present developments in American sports history. For all of the stunning success of Black athletes in a wide range of amateur and professional sports, it has almost always been white men who have profited the most.
White booking agent Abe Saperstein's role as owner/manager of the all-Black Harlem Globetrotters throughout much of the 20th century enabled him to profit from the stunning athletic achievements of his players, even as he fought against racial integration in the National Basketball Association. In college sports, questions have been raised about the imbalance between highly paid white football and men's basketball coaches and unpaid majority-Black squads.
These issues have continued in contemporary times. Despite the dominance of African American players in the NFL and NBA, for example, Michael Jordan was the only Black majority owner of any of the franchises in those two leagues, and he recently sold his majority stake. While professional athletes — Black and white — certainly make considerable sums of money playing their sport, the real wealth and power of ownership remains elusive.
Oher's allegations, then, fit a broader pattern of exploitation that make them hard to ignore. Clearly, someone made considerable sums of money off Oher's story — if not him, then who? Untangling that story should make us all consider the nature of power and wealth in American sports and society — and make us think twice before re-watching "The Blind Side."
Gregory Kaliss, Ph.D., is an assistant professor of history at York College of Pennsylvania and author of "Beyond the Black Power Salute: Athlete Activism in an Era of Change." His email is gkaliss@ycp.edu.
Originally Published: Aug 21, 2023 at 5:00 am
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