Alexis Belton, Symetra Tour player and World Long Drive competitor
I’ve grown up in a small town in Louisiana and my parents (John and Alana Belton) were some of the first black attorneys in my area. Even as a little girl I saw what they went through in order for people to see their value, not only as African-Americans, but in their field. I can remember in school getting ready for kindergarten and my dad’s car being bashed in just because of the color of our skin.
During this time of quarantine, we’ve had plenty of time to clean out our homes and things of that sort, and I was over at my parents’ house and we were looking at pictures that I had drawn as a kid. I went to an all-white school for a little while and moved to a more diverse school over time. One of the paintings that I painted was myself and I was white, and I wanted to be the president of the United States. I had a little description on the side, and it said I want to be the president so I can be rich and help people. I just kind of broke down in tears because I was like, I can’t believe that I hated myself so much that I colored myself in a way that showed the value whites had and how my blackness had none.
I played basketball all my life and when I moved into golf, I realized that I wasn’t valued as much. But I had a little bit more confidence in myself as an African-American. I also realized that I have to function differently on a golf course. I can’t be loud or I’m going to be stereotyped as an angry black woman. I can’t talk about how I really feel, whether it be about politics or why I thought “Black Panther” was amazing beyond just a good movie. I had to be really careful how I talk to people. I had to make sure that members felt comfortable even though I was a member.
I’m having a lot of conversations with my white friends, and I challenge them to put themselves in my shoes, which is really difficult to do. So if there’s someone that goes to church, I say why don’t you go to an African-American church and tell me your experience of you driving there and what you feel while you’re there within the building and how you feel after going? I had a friend call me who did that and they just bawled because of what they felt going to a black church.
My biggest hope is that it’s just not another two-week movement. I think that’s what I really, really struggle with. I think that’s where a lot of the anger comes, too. I think, are you just going to say something now, or are you going to do something?
I have to put myself in the right headspace to say OK, be grateful for the people that are speaking now, know they didn’t speak years ago and they might not even give an apology … but now they are speaking and now I can be grateful for that and help them keep their promise of wanting to do something. I think that’s what it comes down to, having real hard conversations and people allowing accountability.
My white friends text, and all the texts are kind of similar: “I didn’t know the right thing to say.”
I tell them you don’t have to have the right words, you just need to pull up a chair to the table. There’s grace at the table. Just pulling up the chair means everything.