Florida Governor Ron DeSantis has declared war upon Roberto Clemente.
The Pittsburgh Pirates Hall of Famer, who is a revered icon throughout the world—and particularly in Latin America—earned this passionate reverence by losing his life in a plane crash fifty years ago while delivering emergency aid to earthquake-ravaged Nicaragua. His chartered plane went down off the coast of Puerto Rico, and this great tragedy forged the memory of a beloved, just, and kind man. Yet, in Ron DeSantis’s Florida, Roberto Clemente is subject to erasure.
In the land of book bannings, empty libraries, and dumbed-down Advanced Placement tests, a children’s book about “The Great One” by Jonah Winter and Raúl Colón, titled Roberto Clemente: Pride of the Pittsburgh Pirates, was pulled from school library shelves in mid-February in Duval County, which includes the city of Jacksonville.
Only after an uproar did DeSantis address the issue, during an incoherent press conference in which he attacked the media (of course) for “trying to act like somehow we don’t want books.” Then he attacked a teachers’ union (of course) without any evidence, accusing it of operating behind the scenes to keep books like Pride of the Pittsburgh Pirates off school shelves in order to embarrass him.
His exact words were: “I think the school unions are involved with this . . . . I don’t think parents are challenging that; I think they’re doing it unilaterally to try to create an issue . . . . Having young kids engaging in sex acts? You’re going to compare that to a biography of Roberto Clemente? Give me a break.”
After looking into this independently, I want to repeat that there is no evidence either of the involvement of a teachers’ union or the existence of school library books with “young kids engaging in sex acts.” Calls to the governor’s office about why he would fabricate all of this have gone unreturned.
The issue in DeSantis’s Florida is that educators, librarians, and school volunteers are so rattled by the prospect of felony charges if a child picks up the wrong book that stories even hinting at the realities of oppression in the United States are thrown in the thresher. A blurb on the back of Pride of the Pittsburgh Pirates reads: “As a right-fielder for the Pittsburgh Pirates, [Clemente] fought tough opponents—and even tougher racism—but with his unreal catches and swift feet, he earned his nickname, ‘The Great One.’ ” That phrase—“and even tougher racism”—appears to be enough to rattle Florida authorities and embolden angry white parents who are terrified their kids will end up at a Black Lives Matter protest.
The tragedy is not just that DeSantis is trying to turn Florida into a fascistic, ignorant state; it is that these types of actions are affecting young children—particularly those of color—by preventing them from learning about role models who look like them. Clemente wasn’t only a great ballplayer—he was also the first Latin American player to be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He stood up for his people, his language, and his culture. His story is exciting and rich, full of triumph and tragedy. It’s the story of someone who persevered through the indignities of the Jim Crow South—especially in Florida; of someone who did not hide his Puerto Rican roots but rather celebrated them; of someone who was critical of Latin American dictators and fulsome in his praise of the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.; of someone who successfully fought for Major League Baseball to postpone the start of the 1968 season so that people could mourn King’s death. In other words, Roberto Clemente is exactly the kind of hero that Ron DeSantis wants to erase.
This creates a problem for the Major League Baseball brass. So far, they have been silent about DeSantis scything his way through their treasured history. But this silence cannot be abided. If they are too scared of DeSantis and his political base to stand up for their own baseball legends, then it is a study in cowardice. If Roberto Clemente had been a white athlete who died under similar circumstances, a biography about him would probably be required reading. But because Clemente was Black, his story cannot be told. It’s disgraceful.