How Flint hero Claressa Shields could make Olympic history

By Sarah B. Boxer

She could be the first American boxer – male or female – to ever win two Olympic gold medals.

George Foreman won one. Joe Frazier won one. Muhammad Ali? – the “greatest of all time”? One.

But Middleweight boxer Claressa Shields already took home a gold in London. In Rio, she’s gunning for a second. And the reigning Olympic champion and two-time world champion is not sweating this historic moment in U.S. boxing.

“I’m the one that has the bull’s-eye on my back. So it’s kinda exciting to me, you know,” Shields tells Yahoo Global News Anchor Katie Couric. “I’m going to be the first American to win two Olympic gold medals back to back. So I’ve got a lot to look forward to.”

“And a little bit of pressure?” asks Couric.

“Nah,” Shields laughs. “Everything should fall into place.”

Shields has come a long way from her hometown of Flint, Mich. The city, 70 miles outside of Detroit, has been plagued by unemployment for decades, with more than 40 percent of its residents currently living below the poverty line. Most recently, Flint drew national attention when thousands of residents were exposed to dangerous amounts of lead and other toxins in the water supply.

“The national attention should have came sooner,” Shields tells Couric of the water crisis. “My family is doing what every other family is doing: using bottled water, cooking with bottled water, drinking bottled water. And that’s all they can do for right now.”

In many ways, Shields’ childhood reflects the turbulence of the city from which she hails. Her father spent most of her childhood in prison. Her mother was often unable to put food on the table. And she says she suffered years of sexual abuse — raped at age 5 and molested at age 8. “I really didn’t, didn’t understand what was goin’ on. I just knew I wanted it to stop,” she tells Couric.”

“I always felt like, ‘Why did I have to be the child to, you know, get picked?’”

Claressa says that when she was 9 she told her aunt and grandmother. Her grandmother, Joanne Adams, asked her to show her what had happened to her on a doll. Shields then went to live with Adams.

“I thought my mom was, you know, she’s supposed to be the person who you can confide in. My mom was never that person to me. It was always my grandmother,” Shields tells Couric.

Claressa’s grandmother lived up the street from Berston Field House, which has a boxing gym in the basement. By age 11, inspired by stories about Muhammad Ali’s daughter, Laila, becoming a boxer, Shields made her way down to the gym, and was hooked for life — despite being the only female there. “There wasn’t another girl in sight,” she says.

Her coach, Jason Crutchfield, could see her talent — and also her troubles — and became like a second father to her. “We used to go to tournaments, and I would have everybody pitch in and buy her lunch or buy her food. If I didn’t have the money, I’d have everybody else pitch in, all the rest of the boxers pitch in and buy her food,” says Crutchfield.

“She told me that was the first place where she felt loved.”

Shields was unstoppable, and by 2012, when women’s boxing became an Olympic sport for the first time, she won gold in London and instantly became a hometown hero, arriving back in Flint to major fanfare.

“We’re there at the airport. We got the band playing,” says Sheila Miller-Graham, a teacher at Claressa’s high school. “And a parade from the airport down to Berston Field House where there’s a open reception. So, you know, it’s like, ‘Wow, all this, you know, for me?’ Yes, all this is for you, baby. Because you’ve done an excellent job.”

“I just think that everybody was just inspired,” says Shields. “It was a week of no murders or anything in Flint because everybody was so occupied on ‘When is Claressa fighting? What is she doing?’”

Since 2012, life has changed. Shields is going into Rio with two World Championship titles, multiple endorsement deals and a documentary on her life set to air on PBS on Aug. 2. (The title of the film, “T-Rex”, is her childhood nickname. “Back in the day, I had kind of short arms!” Shields explains.)

Now, she stays with her mentor, Corey Taylor, when she’s back in town. Taylor praises Shields for never turning her back on the people of Flint. “Home is where the heart is. This is where her heart is. This is where her family is. And she loves her family. She loves her friends. She loves the community. And she has a genuine love and esteem for the city of Flint. I’ve seen her out when people try to say things about Flint. And she’s, like, ‘Have you ever been to Flint? You can’t say that. You’ve not been there, so you don’t know.’”

“She represents so much for so many,” says Taylor.

“Flint don’t get the recognition it deserves,” says Gerald Baker, who lives up the street from the house Shields shared with her grandmother. “She could be the one to put us on the map. Because this just unbelievable, you know. … I love that to the utmost. I love that.”

With the weight of a city on her shoulders, Shields is ready for Rio. “When you watch the Olympics, you see me. And I’m a boxer that, once you’ve seen me fight once, you want to see me fight again, and again. And I have very good skills, very good power, and I know how to fight. And that’s what people want to see,” she tells Couric.

“I just want to go down in history as the best women’s fighter that’s ever lived.”

Back in Flint, her old neighbor Gerald Benson is just as confident as Shields is. “She ain’t gonna have no problem,” he grins. “Champ. She’s the champ.”