Tommie Smith and John Carlos stood on the podium at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics with more than just medals around their necks. They carried the weight of a nation’s racial turmoil on their shoulders. While the world watched for a celebration of athletic achievement, the two sprinters delivered a silent, symbolic masterclass in civil rights activism that continues to resonate today. During this Black History Month, we look back at the moment the Black Power salute shook the Olympics  and the heavy price paid for that courage.

On Oct. 16, 1968, the atmosphere in Mexico City was electric following the 200-meter final. Tommie Smith had secured the gold medal in world-record fashion, while John Carlos took home the bronze. But as the "The Star-Spangled Banner" began to play, the stadium fell into a different kind of silence. Smith and Carlos stood with their heads bowed and their black-gloved fists raised high. The imagery was intentional and deeply layered. Smith’s right fist represented Black power in America, while Carlos’s left fist symbolized Black unity.

The details of their attire spoke volumes to those paying attention to the struggle back home. They wore black socks without shoes to highlight the poverty affecting African Americans, and Smith wore a black scarf to signify Black pride. Carlos donned a beaded necklace, a somber tribute to the victims of lynchings and the many lives lost to racial violence. Joining them in solidarity was Australian silver medalist Peter Norman, who wore an Olympic Project for Human Rights badge on his jacket to support his fellow athletes' message.

The fallout was immediate and unforgiving. The International Olympic Committee acted swiftly, pressuring the U.S. Olympic Committee to suspend both men and expel them from the Olympic Village. Within 48 hours, they were sent home to a country that was largely hostile to their message. They faced a barrage of death threats, were ostracized by the athletic community, and found it nearly impossible to find steady work. Smith’s career, which should have been at its zenith, was effectively halted; by 1972, the fastest man in the world was in England training schoolchildren just to make ends meet.

In 2016, the U.S. Olympic Committee officially welcomed them back into the fold, and their likeness is now immortalized in the National Museum of African American History and Culture. Their legacy remains a testament to the fact that the pursuit of equality often requires a sacrifice that time eventually honors.