Wayne Embry has seen a lot in his life.
The Hall-of-Famer and Toronto Raptors’ senior basketball advisor grew up on a farm in the rural Ohio of the 1940s and ’50s, facing virulent racism.
Once, while working at a neighbour’s house digging out a basement, he asked for a glass of water. When he and the men digging with him finished their drinks, the homeowner broke the glasses and threw them in the rock pile to ensure they were never used by anyone in his family.
On another occasion, helping a farmer down the road, he was made to eat outside when the other kids went in the house. They lunch they brought him? Watermelon.
Everyone he grew up with became a labourer. Embry laboured too, but on the basketball court his was a labour of love was basketball — and it became not just a passion but a profession.
His start wasn’t easy. He was initially cut from every youth basketball team he played on, and from high school, through college, and into his earliest years as a pro he was the only Black player on his teams when he first arrived.
The lessons he took from being the first and only prepared him for his experience in the NBA. He eventually became an all-star in the league and, after a Hall-of-Fame playing career, an executive, as well — the NBA’s first Black general manager and team president.
I caught up with Mr. Embry when he made his yearly trek to Toronto to help the Raptors during the trade deadline. Sitting in the Raptors film room, he discussed some of the hardships he faced on his road to success and how he works to smooth that road for those coming after him.
DONNOVAN BENNETT: Mr. Embry, always a pleasure to be in your presence. You have so much knowledge and so much knowledge of our history. Given your lived experience, what’s it like for you to be able to share some of those stories, some of those lessons, to future generations trying to follow in your footsteps?
WAYNE EMBRY: Oh, it’s very important because that’s how I got to where I got to. My grandparents and people shared their stories with me and it was an inspiration. So, by sharing my story, if it inspires people, I’m excited to do it.
I remember, as a young boy, the first time I realized I was different, that I was Black. When was the first time you realized you were treated differently?
You don’t need much to [realize it as a child], because you realize you were different, because they made you different. It started in school. I’m entering junior high school. I was one of four students of colour in school, and it was fine. We got along just fine and went to high school.
There’s two of us [Black students] in high school. It was a bus ride away, so further west from Springfield, Ohio. Because of the abuse we took that first day, the other [Black student] didn’t come back the next day. I came back, took more abuse.
My grandfather was the first person I encountered when I came home from school. And he could tell I was upset. He says, “No, you’re not going to quit school. Why are you going to quit school?”
I said, “Because they don’t like me there.”
And he says, “Well, you’re going to go back to school. Do you want to prove to them you are as good or better than they are, and you want to work toward that?”
I went back to school, and I took the advice. Be as good or better. And so that’s what I did.
You go from that to being the first African-American GM in the NBA. When you got that job, you were getting death threats. How did you deal with the pressure?
Well, it’s always on my mind because I would get hate mail — two or three a week. Grandparents and my dad, mom told me, “Just keep doing what you’re doing to be the best you can be, and maybe you can have some influence in the world.” And so, I just tried to stick to it and be the best I could be. Hopefully that will inspire others to do the same and others to respect what we do.
Masai Ujiri later followed in your footsteps and became the first African-born GM and then team president. What’s it’s been like to mentor him?
I got to know him when he first came here to Toronto, and I was very proud that he was able to come into the front office and move up. And then, when he got the [GM] job in Denver, he was overwhelmed. He would call me from time to time. I just had to share what knowledge I had of the job and what may come with it. I gave a lot of my history.
I’m always willing to help and be there, because I just want to see him succeed and see the franchise succeed. And he’s just done a terrific job.
He’ll still call from time to time. But I still think that his knowledge is really what’s helped him. His best quality, probably, is his ability to recognize the contributions of the people who work with him. He knows how to share that and I think that has helped him in his leadership role.
And those adjectives are true of Martin Luther King, who was taken from us far too soon. Kids now read about him in history books, but you lived it. What was King’s impact in real-time?
I never got to meet him. But my wife did, in Selma, when she marched there. We had to do it back in those days to hopefully bring civil rights to our country. And whenever I see Doctor King, I just get overwhelmed with emotion, because of what he did, and sacrificing his life, making life better for the rest of us [tearing up].
Where’s that emotion coming from?
It comes from knowing what we went through and how he had the courage to challenge it. It took a lot of courage, because where we came from and the things we went through were horrific. It was just terrible. And then, of course, he lost his life in the process.
Bill Russell worked alongside you in the fight for civil rights. What did he mean to the movement?
I played with and played against him for several years, and I always admired the way he approached things. And given what he went through when he moved into his place in Massachusetts; I just couldn’t believe some of the horror stories he’d tell me.
But he stayed the course and wanted to show who he was, and he did quite well as a person and gained respect and he kept doing what he did to make things better for everybody. And it wasn’t very many of us back in those days.
He was great at basketball. You know, people ask me who is the greatest player to play in the NBA. And of course I tell them, “You got to put talent aside, because the best basketball player ever was Bill Russell.” And I said, “That’s not based on skill. That’s based on what he was able to accomplish. And in the way he affected the game and others playing.”
I love your legacy as a player and as an executive, but I think your real legacy will be the Wayne and Theresa Embry Fellowship [which provides two Canadians, at least one of whom identifies as part of a marginalized group, the opportunity to gain experience with the Toronto Raptors while earning a $50,000 stipend]. You could invest, philanthropically, in a lot of different ways. Why was this what you wanted your name to be attached to?
Well, they came and asked me if I’d be willing to do that, and I said, “Yes, if it’s going to help others.” I’m always looking to help others and people who aspire to be in this business.
Details matter. It’s not just your name attached to it. It’s Wayne and Theresa [Embry’s late wife]. Why was that important for you?
Because she was a real inspiration in our family. She fought for civil rights in her own way, by going to Selma to march — against the will of myself.
She went with Oscar Robertson’s wife, my teammate, and they didn’t tell us until they were gone. When she finally told me, I said, “You got three children at home. It’s not safe.” And she says, “Well, we’re going anyway.” And they went, rebels. But she came back with some horrible stories.
But she kept on fighting the fight. And so, she should be on this. I actually got over it and was very proud. Very proud of her. Because we were on the road. We came back to meet them at the airport to pick them up. And the story she told was just horrible. Hit with bats and sticks and things. They had to get in the back of a truck and lay flat on the floor with tarps over to protect them.
And I said, “Boy, that really shows courage.” And so, I’m proud.
As someone who’s fought those fights, had family members who’ve fought those fights, are you a bit dismayed those sacrifices don’t have us in a better spot than we are currently in today?
I get upset, yeah. When I read and see things happening, I get very upset. Because we’ve come a long way, but as the old saying goes, “We’ve come a long way. But we still got a way to go.”
And so, we’ll get there. The younger people are going to take the charge, make it happen. I’m optimistic.
We’re in a little regression right now. In the last several years, there has been a movement to erase history, but we can’t go that way. We got to keep moving forward and respect people because, as the saying goes, disrespect creates a lot of problems.
We talk about our history and there is now a fight in North America about whether that history should be taught and whether books that talk about Black history should be in schools. In your estimation, why is continuing to share these stories important — for Black people and for all people?
You got to know history and the contributions that all people made to the world we live in and respect that. And I think Black History Month is a reminder that there are those who made contributions to this great world we live in that have been ignored.
And people don’t maybe want to recognize that. Our history and what we’ve accomplished can be an inspiration to all people. And like I said a while ago, we got to live in a world where we get rid of disrespecting people, because disrespect creates all the anger and hatred. When that happens, it can destroy civilization. And we don’t want that to happen.
