From Clay to Critique: Coco Gauff and the Weight Black Women Athletes Bear

On June 8, 2025, Coco Gauff reached a defining moment in her career—winning the French Open. She beat world No. 1 Aryna Sabalenka in a match filled with grit, grace, and the kind of mental toughness that champions are made of.

But just weeks later, after an early-round Wimbledon loss to Dayana Yastremska, the tone surrounding Gauff changed—from celebration to scrutiny. Headlines went from praising her dominance to questioning her focus, consistency, and even her legitimacy as a “top” player.

This shift is all too familiar.

The Double Standard Black Women Athletes Face

When Black women rise in sports, especially in traditionally white spaces like tennis, gymnastics, or figure skating, the public response often contains an undercurrent of skepticism—if not outright disrespect. Their talent is undeniable, yet the bar for respect remains unjustly high.

Serena Williams, perhaps the most successful tennis player in modern history, endured decades of criticism for her physique, her temperament, and her fashion. While her white peers were celebrated for fiery outbursts or bold styles, Serena was labeled “angry,” “too muscular,” or “unladylike.” She once famously said: “I've had to play against a lot of odds, to be black and to play tennis.”

Coco Gauff, only 20, is now inheriting both Serena's legacy and, unfortunately, some of the same burdens.

When Gauff won the French Open, some called it luck. When she lost at Wimbledon, some questioned her work ethic. Her opponent Sabalenka added to the criticism, suggesting Gauff only won because of her (Sabalenka’s) own errors—a familiar way to invalidate a Black woman’s victory. Gauff handled the moment with maturity and grace, saying she understood her opponent was emotional. But the message was clear: even when you win, it’s never enough.

The Track, the Ice, and the Microaggressions

This dynamic isn’t unique to tennis.

Take Sha’Carri Richardson, a U.S. track star who burst into global attention with her unmatched speed and electric personality. In 2021, she was suspended for marijuana use (in a state where it was legal) shortly before the Olympics. Meanwhile, other athletes facing similar or worse infractions received more leniency. Richardson was branded irresponsible, despite owning up to her mistake and grieving the loss of her mother at the time.

Or Surya Bonaly, the French figure skater whose athleticism in the 1990s was unmatched. She landed a backflip on one blade—something no other woman had done. Judges penalized her for being “too athletic” and not conforming to figure skating’s preferred aesthetic. That “aesthetic” was code for whiteness and quiet elegance—qualities Bonaly supposedly lacked.

 More Than Athletes

What unites these women—Gauff, Williams, Richardson, Bonaly—is not just excellence, but the burden of representation. They are constantly told, explicitly or implicitly, to be exceptional and humble, dominant anddeferential, strong but not “too strong.”

Their mistakes are magnified. Their confidence is misread as arrogance. Their bodies are policed. Their victories are minimized.

And yet, they persevere.

The Power of Coco’s Grace

What makes Coco Gauff’s story so resonant right now isn’t just her forehand or footwork—it’s how she carries herself in the face of constant critique. She celebrates when she wins, learns when she loses, and refuses to shrink herself to make others more comfortable.

Her career is still rising, but her impact is already seismic. She’s part of a long line of Black women in sports who don’t just compete—they change the conversation.

 Final Thought

Until the world gives Black women athletes the same space to fail, succeed, rage, celebrate, and evolve as their white peers, we must continue calling it out.

Coco Gauff doesn’t owe anyone perfection. What she offers instead is something more powerful: truth, resilience, and a future that looks a lot more like her.