I watched Serena Williams defeat her sister, Venus, in the quarterfinals of this year's U.S. Open, wondering, as I watched, how these two women could possibly play each other with so much at stake: Serena’s grand slam and what might have been Venus’s final chance for a major championship.
I knew Serena would be out for blood, but Venus didn't hold back, either, challenging a call on Serena's serve early in the match, which is something Venus almost never does, regardless of opponent. The result was top-notch tennis, one of the best matches the sisters have played. Afterward, Venus waited at the net, eyes full of love. She hugged her victorious sister, then quickly ceded the spotlight, walking off elegantly, head held high.
More than tennis stars
Both women have used their fame for good. Venus’s efforts helped establish pay equality for male and female tennis players. Both donate to UNICEF, for which Serena is a goodwill ambassador, in addition to the Elton John AIDS Foundation, Great Ormond Street Hospital, Eva Longoria Foundation, and, of course the Serena Williams Fund. These charities provide only a partial list of what the sisters do to benefit humanity.
A more obvious gift, however, is that they are unapologetically themselves. Serena makes it okay to be a curvaceous female athlete, and to own her greatness, while Venus, also a fierce competitor, exemplifies the idea that siblings can be rivals without acrimony. Her grace and inner beauty are perhaps more remarkable than Serena’s poise and confidence. How does a person lose to her little sister so many times, especially having heard her father tell the world that she is the lesser talent of the two (though not by much, I assure you), and still convey such peace?
Today, the Williams sisters, and particularly Serena, are beloved by the tennis establishment and the world, and their parents, Richard and Oracene, are hailed as examples. I'm a tennis fan from way back, however, long before these two women burst on the scene, “straight outta Compton.” I remember the Sports Illustrated headline about Venus’s first trip to a Grand Slam final, which labeled her a “party crasher.” I remember the disdain directed toward the beaded hairdos the girls wore at the time. Also the criticism leveled at their father, Richard, for taking pictures during and after matches, and having the audacity to tell the world that his girls would be champions. While Althea Gibson and Arthur Ashe preceded them, the Williams sisters were not welcomed into the tennis world with open arms — even their decision to have outside interests, now hailed as the reason for their longevity and well-rounded development, was critiqued.
How to guide children
Recently, a Facebook friend solicited opinions regarding a video of an interview with a black activist who is trying to fund a school for black youth. The focus of the institution would be economic empowerment: Students would be trained to play the stock market and to create and run successful businesses — basically to not rely on the rest of society for advancement. In addition, students would be steered into STEM fields and others that lead to lucrative jobs: Instead of being rappers or basketball stars, they would be funneled into medicine, for example, since the black community doesn't need any more musicians or athletes.
Some of what he said sounded good, some of it too separatist for my tastes, and some of it too. . .well, black and white. Richard Williams had a vision for his children, and the unlikeliness of it didn't deter him: The man who guided Venus and Serena in their formative years had no experience coaching tennis, learning everything from videos and books.
Obviously, you can force a child to play tennis — or the piano, or baseball — but if he or she isn't on board, at some point, that child will either rebel or simply not become as good as you, the parent, hoped. Even if he or she is on board, success is hardly guaranteed, especially at an international level. Becoming a doctor is a far more commonplace aspiration than winning even one Grand Slam tournament, but the principle remains — if all of the motivation comes from external sources, a child may grow up to be a doctor, but he or she will be a mediocre doctor. A better strategy is to inspire young people to aspire in general, exposing them to things they might not have dreamed were within their grasp and teaching them how to work hard to attain those goals. I admit that only time will tell if I'm living up to my own parenting standards.
Career and character
That Serena and Venus are excellent, well-adjusted, and curious about things outside their area of expertise is phenomenal. That they are best friends on top of that is even more amazing; the investment Oracene Price and Richard Williams made in their children has paid many important dividends. One of the most valuable is that these two young women, who dealt with ongoing racism when they began their ascent, have learned to forgive, reach out, transcend, and, as a result, bear witness to the idiocy behind the treatment they received at the outset.
I'm not implying that they ignored all of the slings and arrows that came their way — I don't believe such things should be ignored, just overcome. Neither am I implying that every slight was perfectly handled or that either one should be canonized. Still, by giving their best to not only their chosen career path, but also to their personal development and to humanity as a whole, they continue to teach all of us — black, white, and otherwise — lessons about things far greater than merely winning and losing on a tennis court.
Editor's note: This essay was submitted prior to Serena's loss on September 11. As the author commented in an email to me today, regarding Serena's demeanor at the post-match press conference, she wasn't "rude, so much as unwilling to suffer fools gladly, which isn't a bad thing for a woman to be able to do. She simply said, 'I don't want to talk about how disappointing it is for me. If you have any other questions, I'm open for that.'" The video can be seen here. [Judy Weightman]