You probably remember the knee. That quiet, polarizing moment on the sidelines that basically changed the trajectory of American sports culture. But what people often miss is the "why" behind it. Most of the conversation around Colin Kaepernick focuses on the NFL, the lawsuits, and the Nike ads.
Colin in Black and White doesn't care about any of that.
Instead, the Netflix limited series, co-created by Kaepernick and the visionary Ava DuVernay, pulls us back to Turlock, California. It’s a coming-of-age story that feels intimately personal yet aggressively educational. If you went into this expecting a standard sports biopic, you likely walked away surprised. Honestly, it’s more of a sociological masterclass wrapped in a teenage drama.
Breaking Down the Narrative of Colin in Black and White
The show is a hybrid. We have Jaden Michael playing a young, wide-eyed Colin—a biracial kid with a 4.0 GPA and an absolute cannon for an arm. Then, we have the real, present-day Kaepernick stepping into the frame as a narrator. He’s standing in a stark, void-like space, breaking the fourth wall to explain the history of the word "thug" or why certain hairstyles carry so much weight.
It’s jarring. At first, you’re watching a kid try to get a date for prom, and the next second, you’re getting a lecture on the systemic parallels between the NFL Combine and historical slave auctions.
Some critics called it heavy-handed. Others called it necessary.
The series focuses on the high school years, specifically the tension between Colin’s athletic prowess and his burgeoning identity. He was a three-sport star—football, basketball, baseball. Everyone wanted him to play baseball. It was the "safe" choice. The "white" choice. But Colin wanted to be a quarterback.
The Parents: A Study in "Well-Meaning" Ignorance
One of the most uncomfortable parts of Colin in Black and White is the portrayal of Rick and Teresa Kaepernick, played by Nick Offerman and Mary-Louise Parker. They aren't villains. They clearly love their son. But the show doesn't let them off the hook for their profound lack of cultural awareness.
They are the embodiment of the "I don't see color" philosophy, which, as the show illustrates, is its own kind of trauma for a Black child.
- The Cornrows Incident: In the first episode, Colin wants Allen Iverson-style braids. His parents take him to a Black neighborhood to get it done, but they are visibly out of place and uncomfortable.
- The "Thug" Comment: When Colin’s coach demands he cut his hair, his mother tells him he looks like a "thug." She thinks she’s helping him fit in. She doesn't realize she's using a coded slur against her own son.
- The Hotel Scene: While traveling for baseball, a hotel clerk assumes Colin doesn't belong there. His parents, rather than recognizing the blatant racial profiling, just try to smooth things over.
These microaggressions pile up. They aren't explosive moments of hate; they are slow, eroding instances of being misunderstood by the people who are supposed to protect you most. It’s a nuanced look at transracial adoption that we rarely see on screen.
Why the Baseball vs. Football Choice Was So Loaded
There’s a whole lot of screen time dedicated to Colin’s refusal to play professional baseball. He was being scouted by the MLB. He was a pitcher with a 90+ mph fastball. To the world of Turlock, he was a "natural" at baseball.
But to Colin, baseball felt like a box.
Football—specifically the quarterback position—was a challenge to the status quo. At the time, the "dual-threat" quarterback was still a bit of a novelty, often used as a backhanded compliment to suggest a Black player wasn't "cerebral" enough to stay in the pocket. By choosing football, Colin wasn't just choosing a sport; he was choosing to occupy a space where he was told he didn't belong.
The series makes it clear: the defiance we saw in 2016 didn't come out of nowhere. It was forged in those high school locker rooms where coaches told him to stay in his lane.
The Style of the Show
Ava DuVernay brings a specific aesthetic here. It’s colorful and bright, which contrasts sharply with the heavy subject matter. The "instructional" segments use archival footage, motion graphics, and even some magical realism to drive points home.
It feels like a syllabus.
Actually, there literally is a "Kaepernick Curriculum" that was released alongside the show. This wasn't just meant to be "prestige TV" to binge on a Sunday; it was built to be taught in classrooms. Whether you agree with the politics or not, you’ve got to admit the ambition is massive.
The Lingering Impact of the Series
So, what did Colin in Black and White actually achieve?
It humanized a figure who had become a walking Rorschach test for the American public. By showing the kid who just wanted to listen to hip-hop and play quarterback, it makes the later "activist" version of Kaepernick feel more like an evolution than a pivot.
👉 See also: Why My Little Pony Power Ponies Toys Are Still The Most Unique Collectibles In Equestria
It also challenged the "grateful adoptee" narrative. The idea that because Colin was raised by a "good" white family, he shouldn't have any complaints about race in America is a common talking point. This show dismantles that completely. It argues that love doesn't exempt you from the realities of systemic racism.
What You Should Do Next
If you’ve already watched the series, or even if you’re just interested in the themes it raises, there are some concrete ways to engage with the material beyond the "Like" button:
- Check out the "Kaepernick Curriculum": It’s a free resource that goes deeper into the historical segments mentioned in the show, like the history of the Black Panthers or the origins of the word "thug."
- Read "The Kaepernick Effect" by Dave Zirin: This book documents the hundreds of athletes—from high schoolers to pros—who were inspired by Colin’s protest. It provides the "what happened next" context the show omits.
- Watch "When They See Us": Also on Netflix and directed by DuVernay. It shares a similar DNA in terms of its unflinching look at the American justice system and race.
- Listen to the "Common Ground" podcast episodes on transracial adoption: To get a better handle on the complexities of Black children raised in white homes, hearing from actual adoptees is crucial.
The show isn't perfect. It’s sometimes clunky and moves between tones so fast it gives you whiplash. But it’s an essential piece of media for anyone trying to understand why a football player decided to take a knee. It wasn't about the flag. It was about everything that happened in Turlock long before the stadium lights turned on.