How Did Strength Sports Become So Damn White?
Unpacking a legacy of racism that’s led to the erasure of Black powerlifters
I spent my youth feeling weak, stocky, and ungainly. I struggled with committing to fitness regimes — none seemed to work with my physique and strength goals. In my twenties, I discovered powerlifting-style training. By combing through training websites, I found a method that added pounds to my lifts in every workout. I became strong. By the time I was 35, people finally said I had muscle and a physique worthy of emulation.
I’ve always enjoyed watching powerlifters push the limits of human strength, but I’ve also noticed its unbearable Whiteness. When I researched Black powerlifters and strength athletes, I found Mark Henry’s career before powerlifting and a scattered few others.
When Henry entered the WWE in the 1990s, he used two monikers. The first was Sexual Chocolate. The wrestler’s name appeared across a Hershey bar in his intro video while a Barry White imitation of smooth R&B played in the background. He would hulk down into the ring — all 6 feet, 4 inches of him — convinced of his own sensual desirability and proficiency.
Our bodies, according to White supremacy, are more resilient to pain. Supremacists use…
