On Mike Tyson and Writing About Abusers

Some thoughts following the Tyson-Paul fight

After weeks of seeing enthusiastic coverage of the Mike Tyson-Jake Paul fight, I got it in my mind to write a story about the Black community’s whole-hearted, unapologetic embrace of (yet another) abuser. I had a Black outlet in mind, even though when I last pitched them, I never heard back from an editor there who I’d known for years (Vanity Fair ended up taking that story.)

I’d decided to wait until after the fight so that the piece could reflect Tyson’s win or loss in the highly anticipated match. But a few days later, I realized that I am tired of writing about famous Black abusers. I have been doing it since I was 16 years old. I resent that for some, my name is associated with critiquing Black men—even though them niggas need critique!

Yet, as a writer, I am most interested in using my words to defend Black women and call attention to our unique challenges. I am passionate about this work, and I feel like it is truly my calling.

Still, I hate that so often it’s a story about Black men’s misdeeds that inspires me to put pen to paper. It isn’t that I only write about this subject (I just finished a whole book about single Black motherhood; well, to be fair, it definitely devotes significant space to Black men’s misdeeds.) But rather, that few other topics inspire me in the same way. When I was younger, I wrote about politics and pop culture and all sorts of other things on a regular basis. Today, I write about parenting and niggas fucking up.

Anyway, I’m too young to remember much about Mike Tyson’s marriage to Robin Givens, but Mike Tyson’s rape trial is one of the first news stories I can recall watching. It was everywhere, and it wasn’t hard for me to tell that it seemed like most people were on Tyson’s side and didn’t believe his victim, Desiree Washington. Minister Farrakhan blasted her. People on the radio voiced their support for the heavyweight champ. Boys at school chanted, “Free Mike Tyson.”

This was one of the first times I was introduced to the difference between the Black community’s treatment of Black women versus Black men. I had gotten a glimpse of this a year prior when even Democrat-identified Black people supported Clarence Thomas’s appointment to the Supreme Court in light of—-and for some, because of—-Anita Hill’s sexual harassment allegations.

Throughout much of my life, I have watched Black people lovingly support Tyson, as if he didn’t say that Givens was the recipient of the “best punch I ever threw.” It didn’t matter to them that Washington alleged rape against him, and he was convicted of that crime by a jury (ironically, these same people will point to the lack of a criminal conviction against other abusers to defend them.) It was also of no concern that Tyson, who pled not guilty, said that he wish he had raped the young pageant contestant.

Tyson was more soundly criticized for biting off part of Evander Holyfield’s ear than he was his crimes against women. Maya Angelou visited him in prison! Who visited Givens and Washington, who were considered pariahs in the Black community for daring to claim abuse at the hands of one of its favorite sons.

It isn’t that Tyson is only embraced by Black folks. However, other folks might feel differently about him if his victims looked like them. (Then again, I don’t know that for certain; Kobe Bryant’s accuser was a White woman and that didn’t seem to tarnish his reputation at all. People of all backgrounds will sacrifice their daughters for powerful men. Then again, Bryant had a nice guy image. It’s hard to imagine White Americans letting Tyson throw those fabled punches at a blonde.)

Some would say that since Tyson served his time for raping Washington, and never was charged with assaulting Givens, that we should let this part of his life go. He’s a family man now, a whole new person who meditates and shit.

I cant let it go, because to my knowledge, Tyson has not made amends with his victims. They’ve had to live their lives being widely maligned and watching him become a family-friendly celebrity whose known for being a funny guy. His public statements about these abuses were all horrible, nowhere approaching contrition.

I traveled to Vegas to interview Tyson in 2014 or 2015, but I never ran the piece because I wasn’t sure what to write. I read his memoir and I asked him directly about abusing Givens and raping Washington. He staunchly denied both. I didn’t feel like it would be right for me to give him a platform to defend himself again. Aside from those topics, he was charming and funny and I didn’t want to add to the santization of his image. Also, reading his book convinced me that he’d raped other women.

Our community owes an apology to Robin Givens and Desiree Washington. There should be an ad taken out in the New York Times and a special on BET. We didn’t just fail them, we punished them for surviving their abuse. Only had one of them died would more of us have been able to sympathize with them instead of him. We’re broken inside in a very serious way. Our loyalties are misplaced.

I could get into a whole thing about the disparity between Black folks’ support of Black men and boys over Black women and girls, but I wrote a long article about it just a couple of years ago. You can read that here. I also cover it in my book. And it will likely show up in writings I do in the future. I just don’t have it in me today. Because I am tired of writing about this shit.