As hockey confronts its racism problem, why have so many NHL players remained silent?

After Akim Aliu’s essay, fans of the sport showed their support. The voices of white NHL players were missing.

Former NHL player Akim Aliu began to speak out about the racism he experienced in hockey late last year. In a recent piece for the Players’ Tribune published earlier this week, Aliu revealed more stomach turning stories about the times the n-word was hurled at him, and how, once he decided to push back, he knew his NHL career was over.

On social media, among fans of the sport, support for Aliu was unequivocal. Hockey twitter heard his message, acknowledged it, and, for once, the trolls were relatively tame. What was missing from that conversation though were the voices of white NHL players, who make up the majority of the league.

NHL players aren’t known for being political, choosing instead to hide behind the culture’s insistence that it is more about the logo on the front than the name on the back. Speaking up, even about issues that directly impact the sport, is seen as unseemly, an action that need not be taken up by the individual.

Yet, that’s exactly the problem. Saying that racism is bad and publicly supporting Aliu shouldn’t be a political act. What needed to happen yesterday was a show of solidarity with a black player who had the courage to stand up and reveal the true horror of what he endured. What actually happened was a deafening silence from players that spoke volumes.

White NHL players, especially the superstars of the sport, have long taken a pass on taking a definitive stand on any issue that could even remotely be deemed controversial.  To admit that racism exists in the league shouldn’t be a controversial point of view, but an admission of fact.

After the resignation of former Calgary Flames head coach Bill Peters, players offered milquetoast condemnations of his use of a racial slur, but hedged their words with so much double speak that George Orwell would have been proud.

“It’s tough,” Flames forward Milan Lucic said of the incident at the time. “You can’t ignore what’s going on on the outside. Obviously some serious accusations that are unacceptable, not only in hockey but in the world.”

The takeaway from Peters’ resignation and the lack of a player outcry seemed to be that admitting racism is bad would have been to acknowledge that racism exists in the league to begin with.  It’s only recently that the NHL has even allowed that things need to get better, but players have yet to embrace that message.

The truth is that players would much rather talk about their TikToks than  provide a thoughtful comment on the issue of race in the NHL. NHL players taking a pass on issues is nothing new, but the silence of white players on this issue is no longer tenable.  In the context of the pandemic, people with much more to lose have had to step up and make difficult choices as our normal way of life crumbles, and yet, the majority of NHL players can’t even bothered to offer up a tweet of support for a fellow player whose allegations speak to the glaring inequalities of the sport.

There have been a few players who have condemned the slurs hurled at K’Andre Miller during a Zoom call, and, as of this posting, only two NHL players who acknowledged Aliu’s Players’ Tribune essay.

Maybe more NHL players will speak up, but the chorus can’t be limited to a handful of players. It has to be deafening.

The burden to address issues of race in the NHL has always fallen unfairly on the shoulders of minority players. Too often, black players alone have to speak for entire teams and locker rooms when they talk about racism in the league and in the sport. As Aliu proved, the consequences for a person of color speaking up about racism are huge. It’s well past time for white players (and GMs, team owners and coaches) to also speak up and share the weight of making the sport a more equitable place.

In the general rush of the NHL season these conversations have long pushed aside, as reporters and fans alike choose to focus on the more immediate concerns of their teams. The conversations about race and inclusion always seem to spark around specific incidents and then dissipate as a team’s results take priority over cultural issues.

That’s not the case right now. Akim Aliu’s piece refocused our attention on hockey’s racism problem. There is no season happening at the moment that players can hide behind, yet they’ve chosen to keep their silence. Maybe they should remember and take to heart the words of poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

“To sin by silence, when we should protest, makes cowards out of men.”

Akim Aliu pulls back the curtain on hockey culture in honest “Players’ Tribune” piece

Aliu’s story is just a reminder that hockey still has a long way to go before it can be considered for everyone.

In a new piece in the Players’ Tribune, former NHL player Akim Aliu opens up about the devastating racial and physical abuse he endured as he tried to climb the ranks of professional hockey.

Aliu first spoke openly about the racism directed at him from his minor league coaches, notably former Calgary Flames head coach Bill Peters, in 2019. His story, combined with others, has helped usher in a slow reckoning of the sport’s toxic culture that allows for rampant racism, misogyny, bullying and homophobia.

In his essay for the Players’ Tribune Aliu shares more stories about his time in the minor league, reliving the bullying and indifference of a culture that prizes conformity above all else.

Canada is a big place with all sorts of people. And lots of people who don’t look like me or my dad. When I was 11, at a tournament in Quebec, I saw a part of Canada I didn’t know existed.

I can still hear this guy’s voice in my head. He had that French Canadian accent.

“How many times are we going to let this n***** score?”

His voice just punched through the air in the rink. I heard him as clear as day.

And nothing happened, really. The game went on, none of my teammates or coaches said anything to me. I didn’t expect them to. I didn’t fully understand the weight of what had just happened. I just looked up and down the bench. I was the only black boy.

Alone.

It is a difficult read, but necessary to openly confront the issues that plague the sport. In his article, Aliu talks about the way sport’s culture, established in youth hockey at a very early age, infiltrates everything and how he knew that once he decided to stand up for himself, and push back against the open racism, it was over for him. He speaks candidly about AHL coaches holding undeserved power, and the torment they can bring to young players lives.

That’s how it goes for so many players who operate in fear of the hockey machine. Even at the pro level. How many players speak out about any issues? Barely any. Everyone tiptoes around every little thing because they’re petrified about being an outcast. For every player who acts a little different or has any personality whatsoever, whether it’s a Henrik Lundqvist or a David Pastrnak, there are hundreds who look different and whose ‘quirks’ are looked down on by their coaches because they aren’t white. They get told to cut the crap or get lost. So they get lost. And that’s what happened to me.

Aliu’s words and stories though don’t remain in the past. There’s a direct line that can be drawn from the stories he’s sharing to recent events in the NHL. Aliu mentions the racial taunting prospect K’andre Miller received, but it can also be seen in Brendan Leipsic’s misogynistic group chats and the Avalanche’s Colin Wilson admitting that using Pride Tape during a game would get him chirped at by his fellow teammates.

They are reminders of a culture where bullying, misogyny and racism exist in a way that needs to be untangled from the sport.

Aliu also notes that change can’t start at the NHL level, but has to start at the entry level, where most of the culture is ingrained in young players. His story is just another, much needed reminder that hockey still has a long way to go before it can be considered for everyone.