LeBron James has won four NBA championships, played in three Olympic Games and become one of the most decorated basketball players in history. So why does the internet insist on portraying him as a goofy caricature?
Online, especially in male-dominated spaces, James has become a running joke. On TikTok, X (formerly Twitter) and YouTube, countless videos show an exaggerated version of him. He’s edited to sing 2000s pop songs, jump around aimlessly or just look silly. The internet has created its own version of him, one that ignores his legacy as an NBA champion and all-star athlete. Instead, he’s framed as unserious, dimwitted and endlessly cheerful.
At first glance, it might seem like harmless, lighthearted fun. Yet this trend reflects something deeper and more harmful. It’s not just about LeBron, it’s about the way Black men, especially public figures, are flattened into stereotypes. As usual, we can trace this pattern through history.
The “Sambo” stereotype, for example, was a common caricature used during slavery and the Jim Crow era. This character was portrayed as overly happy, simple-minded and oblivious to the world around him. According to the Jim Crow Museum, the Sambo was “a fat, wide-grinning Black man” who was content with his situation and loyal to his white masters. He was often the comedic relief in minstrel shows, singing, dancing and performing for the entertainment of others.
When you look at the viral, highly-edited “sunshine” image of LeBron, it’s hard to ignore the echoes of that stereotype. These videos aren’t celebrating his achievements but rather reducing him to something digestible and non-threatening.
This phenomenon speaks to a long-standing expectation that Black men need to overcompensate to be accepted. They are often expected to be overly friendly, overly charming and always pleasant. Shaquille O’Neal is widely admired for his portrayal as the nice guy in almost every commercial. We embrace Snoop Dogg as the fun-loving gangster-turned-friendly uncle. These are the Black men America feels comfortable with – simple, non-confrontational and endlessly entertaining.
Yet the moment a Black man steps outside of this box, the backlash is swift. Just look at the reaction to Will Smith after the Oscars incident in 2022, when he slapped Chris Rock on stage. Despite a decades-long career of portraying positive, likable characters, Smith was banned from the ceremony for ten years. Many felt this punishment was disproportionate, especially when compared to the more lenient treatment of white celebrities for more severe actions.
Our world may seem more progressive, but racist stereotypes haven’t disappeared – they’ve just evolved. Today, we still reduce Black men to outdated archetypes like the “Sambo” or the “Mandingo.” A Black man in a suit on Instagram is flooded with comments about how “respectable” or “upstanding” he looks. Why is it still surprising when Black men are functional, intelligent and ambitious?
Flattening Black men’s identity has real-life consequences: they’re constantly underestimated, doubted and boxed in by American society. That’s why nearly every rapper has a line about a teacher who said they’d never amount to anything. The stereotypes don’t just live on screens – they shape how Black men are seen, judged and treated every day.
At Howard University and other HBCUs, Black male enrollment is declining, even as Black women are officially the most educated group in the U.S. The narrative that Black men aren’t academically inclined, or that their role is to entertain, creates barriers that make it harder for them to thrive in educational and professional spaces.
As a nation, we must not only expect more from Black men – we must actively support them in getting there. That means investing in their education, mentorship and career development. But more importantly, it means confronting our own biases. We must stop projecting assumptions about how Black men should dress, speak or behave and start allowing them to define themselves – not by our comfort, but by their full, complex humanity.
Melanie Guilderson can be reached at [email protected].
