By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer
Content warning: Brief mention of domestic abuse.
The year is 1964. Black Canadian track and field sprinter, Harry Jerome, just took home a bronze medal for the 100-metre dash in that year’s Tokyo Summer Olympic Games. His unlikely rise from obscurity to sports stardom is disclosed in Valerie Jerome’s memoir Races: The Trials and Triumphs of Canada’s Fastest Family. Valerie is Harry’s younger sister, and a great track and field competitor in her own right. Her 2023 autobiography oscillates between an inspiring and heartwrenching recollection of a young family’s difficult upbringing in the racist suburbs of 1950s and ‘60s Winnipeg and Vancouver, and the experiences of underdog siblings who defied all odds to emerge victorious in the international spotlight.
Fundamentally, Jerome’s memoir is a story of unrelenting perseverance. Growing up in an unforgiving environment perforated with racial discrimination, childhood abuse, and intergenerational trauma, the Jerome siblings found solace and glory in the freeing world of track and field.
The first few chapters chronicle the Jerome family history and their turbulent childhood years. Harry had displayed an aptitude for sports from a young age, far exceeding the athleticism of his peers. He was involved in extracurriculars such as minor-league soccer and baseball before entering track and field. Valerie was no different — participating in competitive sports allowed her to gain a sense of visibility of which she was denied elsewhere. Their natural athletic ability should come as no surprise given that both Harry and Valerie were descendants of an accomplished (but unrecognized) athlete. Their maternal grandfather, John Armstrong “Army” Howard, was the first Black Canadian Olympian, having competed in the 100- and 200-metre heats in the 1912 Olympic games in Stockholm. Despite such a feat, Howard’s eligibility to compete in the 1912 games was repeatedly questioned solely because of his race.
Army Howard’s abhorrent treatment by Canadian sports officials laid bare the prejudice caused by historical (and ongoing) anti-Black racism in Canada. Before being finally allowed to compete, the coach of the 1912 Canadian Olympic Track and Field Team made multiple attempts to try and disqualify him, while Canadian news outlets belittled and infantilized him, framing his self-confidence as arrogance. His outspokenness on the racist treatment and remarks hurled at his way was met with even more racism. Two generations later, Harry and Valerie faced strikingly similar racist treatment. Their Blackness is disregarded only when their athletic achievements made it convenient to do so — an implicit message that Black people are valued insofar as they excelled. Such forms of treatment are best represented by the Canadian press, whose racist reporting and demeaning portrayal of the siblings offered a baffling insight into the intrusive world of sports media.
Their white-passing mother, Elsie, was physically and verbally abusive, both to her Black husband, Harry Vincent, also to her children. Elsie’s violent behaviour and rejection of her own children’s Black identity is a visible example of how racism becomes internalized and proliferated across generations.
Races is a worthwhile read. My only criticism is that, because so much of the narrative was centred on Harry’s life, I felt Valerie was rendered a spectator in her own memoir, overshadowed by her brother’s success. But then again, Races appears to have been written as an unconditional familial love letter — a testament to Valerie’s admiration for her older brother. Harry’s impact on Valerie is clear: his frequent encouragement and brotherly lectures coaxed her out of her shell and convinced her that she, too, could succeed. With that being said, the emphasis on Harry’s mentorship feels like it is more dominant than Valerie’s agency, and I found myself wishing she gave herself more credit for her equally impressive accomplishments.
