Zavier Lushington - Young Harris Baseball
1. What has baseball meant to you and taught you?
Baseball has been my entire life, I can’t go a day without thinking about it. It’s my passion; my first love. Not only has it made me into an elite athlete on the field, but also an elite person off the field. You realize that baseball and life go hand in hand and it taught me to not only be a better player but a better person.
2. What obstacles have you had to overcome throughout your career? How have those challenges shaped you as a person?
With baseball I had to learn to deal with failure. That’s all baseball is: a game of failure. You learn that every game won’t be your best. You can go on a 15 game hit streak, or a 15 game hitless streak. Either way, you have to have amnesia while playing this game. No matter if I went 4-4 or 0-4 I have to go out there the next day, and what I did the day before doesn’t matter. You’re taking baseball one inning at a time, one out at a time, one at-bat at a time, and one pitch at a time. You compare that to real life, you see that everyday won’t be your best. But it’s up to you to get up that next day and try to be productive, no matter how negatively impacted you were the day before. It’s always another day if you’re blessed with waking up.
3. What is one moment that has defined you as an athlete or person?
Losing close friends. My friends Aleeya and Alani both passed away from Cystic Fibrosis at the age of 19. Though they lived with the disease their whole life, knowing there was no cure, and their life could be over at any moment, they still lived their life. She still woke up every day and had a smile on their face that was bright enough to light the darkest of rooms. They sang, they danced, they lived and they fought. I had a tough life. I was homeless at one point, I almost gave up on my dream, my passion. Things would never go my way. Yet these two young women went about their lives knowing it could be over soon and still smiled. Aleeya made me promise to continue to fight, as she was doing. And I did. I dedicated my senior year to them. I won 1st Team All-Conference, first ever championship and school history, and became the first ever Tournament MVP for my school. Every piece of equipment had their name on it. I wanted their spirit to walk and play with me every game.
4. Based on your experiences as an athlete, what advice would you give to a younger version of yourself?
Never give up and to never settle. If I didn’t have the heart, I would’ve given up a long time ago. My younger self never saw optimism as a thing that was possible for him. Yet, without those trials and tribulations, I wouldn’t be the athlete and more importantly, the man I am today.
5. What would you want people to know about your journey as a Black man and athlete?
It’s tough. It’s draining. It’s tiring. The fact that I seem like a walking weapon at 6’5 220 is just honestly so demeaning. I shouldn’t have to tread lightly wherever I go. I shouldn’t have to fear being stopped by cops. I shouldn’t have to fear having my own kids and teaching them these lessons and having them grow up in such a racially prejudiced society.
My whole life I went to PWIs. I’ve been called n****, monkey, etc. I’ve had to hear slick racial/stereotypical comments that they think would go over my head. I had to endure not fully being myself or acting in a way I think I should because I feared repercussions. It was like I had to “lay low” as a Black player. It didn’t matter how much I did, it always seemed I was overlooked because I was “raw.” You put up numbers that would seem out of this world, to just be told you’re “raw.” To self-consciously compare and contrast yourself to players that signed before you. Realizing you were just as good or even better. It’s frustrating. Yet, I still love the game. I still love the teachings I’ve received. If I stop and quit now, I’ll only be cheating myself. I want to be a walking example.
6. What is your hope for the future of racial equality in sports? How do you think the baseball community or sports community as a whole can improve to fix its racial injustice?
It shouldn’t start with the baseball community or sports community at all. It starts with the people. It starts with the realization that there is a problem that we’ve been suppressing and ignoring it for far too long. We’re put on a pedestal if we do great, seen as demigods. But in our time of need, and our time of injustice we get lackluster support. It’s hard because I wish I could’ve spoken out more while in college, but the fact that I feared I would lose my opportunity because I didn’t have a pedestal stopped me. I’m glad athletes these college athletes have a pedestal now. The world is looking at this under a microscope now and they’re finally able to speak up, LOUDLY. We’re not looking for street names, school name changes. Those are all good but it’s eye wash. Handle the deeper root of this system of racial injustice and racism so we all can be better as a nation, as a world. Equal opportunities for children coming from inner city schools, funding for athletic and arts facilities in these inner cities. Hard to be the demographic of people that “fail” when the system was created to keep us at the bottom of the barrel. We could ALL be great, but it starts with the ones who believe that there isn’t a problem, and refuse to speak out on it.
