Raptors Revolution

What the 2019 nba championship says about race and belonging

- Troy Sebastian

In June, a nation bore down on Nathan Phil-lips Square under a hanging sun, hundreds of thousands clad in patterns of red, black, and gold. It arrived with babies in mothers’ arms, fans cheering beneath concrete arches, steeldrum processions winding through the memory of morning. All the while, police held their positions, thirsty and waiting, their barricades broken and surmounted. The locust of a helicopter rattled overhead; the thunderous flyby of Snowbirds spread awe as necks craned skyward. And, after hours of waiting, the energy of expectation crested, and before us appeared the 2019 nBA Champion Toronto Raptors. We the North had arrived, championship in hand, the stage set for the one person everyone wanted to see: Kawhi Leonard, the king of the north.

The faces of those who celebrated reflected journeys beyond hopes and dreams, beyond polite expectations. This victory was bigger than one nBA championship: it was the sum of countless journeys from margin to centre, from there to here, and all the sacrifices made in between. Sacrifices of language and land, sacrifices of children and families, sacrifices between generations, trauma handed down like dominion, understanding ceded to security and the promise of a better future. This country was built on the forgetting of the first accord of friendship and the persistent erosion of both sacred knowledge and space — the very disappearance of those who hold such knowledge. The victory of one basketball team cannot fix this. But it can demonstrate what may come next.