New Rules of the Game: Weaponization of Othering

By now, you have probably seen the viral video. Taylor Townsend—Black, bold, unbothered—walks off the court after a bruising match against her white European opponent, Jelena Ostapenko. The post-match glances were sharper than a backhand slice. Next came the unsportsmanlike commentary—about her body, her "attitude," and a not-so-veiled speculation about whether she belonged at this level. To understand America in the Trump Redux era, one only needs to study this exchange.

Ostapenko vs. Townsend is a microcosm of something much bigger: the way anti-democratic, vengeful politics—modeled from the White House on down—have bled into every corner of public life, including sports. Turning “othering” into the new national pastime. Divisive politics has a profound impact on marginalized groups. Neither Ostapenko nor Donald Trump invented this playbook, yet Trump and his sycophants are working to master it. Fueled by a sense of grievance, revenge, and an insatiable appetite for division, he—like Ostapenko—has normalized once somewhat closeted attitudes.

The U.S. Open incident is just the latest stop on a long, ugly tour. Disgruntled opponents have employed similar scripts against Serena Williams and Simone Biles, as well as many other athletes of color who have dared to excel and remain unapologetic about it. Here's how it goes: a Black woman achieves something extraordinary—something that should be cause for celebration. Instead, the conversation instantly pivots to her body (too muscular), her demeanor (too aggressive), her confidence (too much). Her white opponent, meanwhile, is cast as the default—graceful in defeat, sportsmanlike, a 'true' competitor. Yet, despite these challenges, these athletes continue to excel, inspiring hope and resilience in all of us.

However, it is not just about sport. We're facing a nefarious trend—the weaponization of othering—modeled and sanctioned by those in power, and spreading rapidly across sectors and domains. From the highest governmental office to group chats of Peloton, the playbook is the same: keep 'others' in their place and ensure everyone knows the cost of stepping out of line. This is present in workplaces, where people of color are often overlooked and disrespected. It is rampant in media, where certain voices are amplified while others are silenced. The language of othering is subtle and not-so-subtle, and it shapes everything from hiring decisions to who gets the benefit of the doubt in a viral video.

Trump 2.0 isn't hiding the ball here. The administration has gone out of its way to dismantle anything that even smells like progress for people of color, women, and anyone who doesn't fit the American template of whiteness. Affirmative action? Gone. DEI initiatives? Vilified and defunded. Voting rights? Gutted wherever possible. Even the basic act of telling the truth about American history becomes known as "indoctrination" or "leftist propaganda." It's not enough to win politically—this brand of governance is about revenge. Retribution. Making the "others" pay for daring to demand a seat at the table.

Even higher education—the tone of the last bastion of meritocracy—hasn't escaped the purge. Universities, under threat and strong-arm tactics, are abandoning programs that support first-generation students, women in STEM, or historically Black fraternities and sororities. The message, again, is clear: if you're not already on the inside, don't expect a hand up. In fact, don't even expect the rules to stay the same. Powers that will be changed rules the minute the “other-ed” team gets close.

Here's the thing, though: the playbook only works if we let it. The weaponization of othering relies on exhaustion, on making the marginalized feel isolated and hopeless. But Townsend didn't shrink. She didn't apologize for her body, her game, or her presence. And in not backing down, she forced the rest of us to reckon with what's really at stake.

Resistance is the refusal to accept 'just the way things are' as anything but a challenge to do better. Athletes who keep showing up. Students who refuse to hide. Voters who refuse to have their rights suppressed. It's important to remember that we are not alone in this fight. By standing together and refusing to accept the status quo, we can push back against 'weaponized othering' and create a more inclusive, equitable, respectful, and humane society.

Suppose there's anything to take from Ostapenko's unmerited tongue lashing of Townsend is othering can only prevail if we stop calling it out, stop pushing back, and stop insisting on a more inclusive, equitable, respectful, and humane game. We all need to ask ourselves: what game are we really playing? Which and whose rules apply? Because in the end, the story of America, at her best, is written by those who refuse to stay in their place.

Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson is a spiritual entrepreneur, author, scholar-practioner whose leadership and strategies around social and racial justice issues are nationally recognized and applied.