Jaden Ivey’s release isn’t a victory for inclusion. It’s a lesson in athlete expendability | NBA

WWhen the Chicago Bulls waived Jaden Ivey on Monday after he made a series of anti-LGBTQ and religious comments on social media, the move was framed as a response to “conduct detrimental to the team.” On the surface, the situation seems simple: a player said something controversial and the organization took action.

But there is a version of this story where Ivey is still in the league. Where he and his publicist issue a quick, thoughtful apology, where his overnight inclusion education uses all the buzzwords to prove his new ally, maybe he pays a fine or makes a small donation, and he can get back on the court and live out his dreams in the NBA, a pro-LGBTQ+ league for over a decade. Ivey’s words laid out his beliefs. What followed revealed a lot about NBA teams: not only where they stand on inclusion, but how they decide which voices are worth protecting and which are easy to suppress.

As a former NFL player, I can tell you that locker room discussions don’t often venture into queer acceptance or religious beliefs. If we talk about religion, these are individuals talking about what their faith has done in their lives, transforming young men into family patriarchs, helping individuals focus on their community, and making people think about how they contribute to the world outside of their athletic prowess. I can attribute this willingness to speak to the safety, vulnerability, and openness that a healthy locker room brings.

That said, Ivey’s comments didn’t surprise me. Honestly, if he had voiced his thoughts on Pride Month in the average locker room, many of his teammates would agree with him. I was the first openly bisexual player in the NFL and have been on teams with many players who shared the same views as Ivey, just as I have no doubt that he has been on teams with players like me, whether they were public about their identity or not.

I heard a lot of ignorant comments in the locker room, but it was through the peer-to-peer conversations stemming from those moments – and seeing diverse perspectives and life experiences – that I was able to grow and learn; I’m sure the same can be said of many of my teammates. Make no mistake: even conversations between trusted teammates can be devolved. I remember homophobic jokes, speculation about players’ sexuality and misogynistic remarks. But the unspoken rule is that what happens in the locker room, for the most part, stays in the locker room and must be resolved between teammates. What makes Ivey’s comments different is not the message but the fact that they were made outside the locker room.

There’s also the brutal truth that his quick release was undoubtedly a direct result of his lack of star power. When, like Ivey, you’ve had a short career riddled with injuries and unremarkable performances, teams won’t protect you; they will burn you like a handicap. There are many examples of players saying things equal to or worse than Ivey and suffering few consequences. The difference is that they were superstars.

When Anthony Edwards, one of the best young players in the NBA, posted an Instagram story in which he called a group of men “fags” before adding, “Look at the world I came into,” he had time to apologize. When players like Rajon Rondo or even the late Kobe Bryant used homophobic slurs on the court, they apologized and were fined by the league. The chances of one of them being cut off for their tongue were infinitesimal. NBA championships and All-Star appearances may not excuse a player’s behavior, but they give him time to correct his course. The NBA has publicly supported the LGBTQ+ community, but business decisions are rarely made based on moral values ​​alone. The league does not control the beliefs of its players, only how their image affects the NBA’s bottom line.

What happened to Ivey doesn’t prove that the NBA has solved homophobia in the locker room — although it might do so anyway. This proves that teams around the league know how to react when something becomes visible and when the player involved is replaceable enough to be used as an example.

The culture in the locker room will not change because one voice is suppressed, especially when the beliefs behind that voice were never isolated to begin with. The NBA does not eliminate these tensions. He manages them. And in a league where a player’s value determines consequences, moments like this don’t show progress as much as they reveal the gap between what is said publicly and what is experienced privately. Until this gap is closed, these incidents will not go away. They will just continue to find new ways to surface.