Since late August, a number of high-profile American athletes have used their platform to protest the racial inequality apparent in the treatment of African-American males by police and the criminal justice system. From sitting to kneeling to raising a fist to interlocking arms during the national anthem, N.F.L. athletes—like many other famous professional athletes before them—are causing a national stir and igniting a ferocious debate about free speech, criminal justice reform and the disparate and harsh treatment that they and their African-American brothers endure at the hands of oppressive systems.

While one U.S. presidential candidate believes there has never been a worse time to be an African-American in this country (he must have slept through civics and the lessons on Jim Crow and slavery), I do believe that it must be an unsettling time to be an African-American man in America. As a proponent of free speech and using historical context and lessons, I stand by these athletes’ choices to not stand for the national anthem.

The history of this country is tied to racial inequality. America’s original economy was founded on enslaving those of darker skin. Essentially, blacks worked for nothing and whites spent decades making profits from others’ hard work. This system allowed whites to create a system out of Social Darwinism, which still holds to this day. Even when minorities were freed, their status as second-class citizens prevailed as they were kept away from the “society whites” through racist laws which once again allowed whites to further enhance their economic standing at the cost of minority citizens. In turn, a system of oppression materialized, backed by laws that perpetuated discriminatory practices, resulting in minorities, to this day, struggling in their pursuit of the American Dream. When one realizes the economic disparity created by systemic social inequality, it becomes clear why minority athletes speak out against these systems of oppression.

Let’s take a walk down memory lane. Some of the greatest minority athletes of the 20th century protested the racial inequality both during and after the civil rights era. Jackie Robinson—number 42, who is celebrated annually by Major League Baseball—took part in active protests during the Civil Rights era. This is the same Jackie Robinson who broke the color barrier in baseball and who could have been cut from the team for his actions.  These athletes—despite the unknown risks to themselves, their families and their livelihoods—protested so the next generations could have a better life.

John Carlos raised his fist in defiance at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City during the Civil Rights movement. He did this to protest the unfair treatment blacks were receiving under the separate but equal laws.

Muhammed Ali—Mr. Float Like a Butterfly and Sting Like a Bee—was sentenced and lost his boxing titles because he would rather consciously object to the Vietnam War than serve in it. He would later go on to reclaim this title and establish himself as the greatest boxer to ever live.

All of these athletes became legends when they took a stand during the peaks of their athletic careers, using their First Amendment rights to publicly stand up against the racist systems of oppression.

The athletes who have protested in the last couple of weeks play in the N.F.L. As they use the only platform they have—as overpaid entertainers—their messages are resoundingly clear: minorities are more likely to be killed by police officers than their white counterparts and they are also more likely to get harsher penalties for similar crimes committed by their white counterparts. While he may have only been the second string quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers at the time, Colin Kaepernick came to understand these harsh truths, and decided to use Sundays when millions of Americans are glued to the TV screen to send a nonverbal signal against these injustices. The basic premise of the argument is, “Why should I show allegiance to the country which still actively oppresses me through various means?” and “By protesting the symbol that is supposed to unite our country, will people wake up to our harsh realities and spur real change?”

Not only am I proud of these athletes, but I also stand with them as a Mexican-American citizen whose people have been similarly oppressed. Perhaps their actions will spur revival of the Civil Rights movement. One can only hope that all of the Americans who revere and worship athletes will be open to their message. Racial equality in the United States is still the goal, but it has been thwarted by oppressive systems. There’s no touchdown dance happening outside of the stadium if you are an African-American male.