I’ve been playing basketball since I was five years old. Now, at 17, I play for Whitney Young High School and Meanstreets EYBL which is two of the most respected basketball programs in Chicago. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, but I’d be lying if I said the journey has been fair for everyone.
Chicago is one of the greatest basketball cities in the country. From Derrick Rose to Candace Parker, our city has produced legends. But for every superstar, there are hundreds of talented kids grinding in silence. Players who might never get the recognition they deserve. Not because they lack talent, but because they don’t know the right people. Because in Chicago, success in basketball is too often about politics, not just performance.
In this city, connections can matter more than skill. One endorsement from the right person can launch your name into headlines and highlight reels. Meanwhile, others just as hardworking, just as skilled go overlooked. This kind of favoritism doesn’t just hurt individual players; it damages the integrity of the game and sidelines community potential.
I’ve seen it firsthand: athletes who give everything on the court but get ignored because they didn’t come up through the “right” pipeline or weren’t on someone’s radar early enough. And while I’m proud of everything I’ve achieved, I know I’ve had to work twice as hard just to be seen.
That’s not how it should be. But I still love this game.
Even with the politics, I step on the court every day and give it my all. Because at the end of the day, I don’t play for headlines, I play for the love of the game. I know what I’ve earned, and I know I’ve done it the right way. I just want every kid in this city to have a fair shot at chasing their dream, the same way I chase mine.
Chicago basketball is tough. It always has been. But it’s also powerful. If we strip away the politics and let the game speak for itself, there’s no limit to what this city’s youth can achieve.
