Dunn sees significance of his role at OSU

STILLWATER, Okla. – Kasey Dunn cares deeply about his African-American heritage, but he doesn’t always make a big deal about race, a trend in his life that he can track to a young age.

“Back in the day, my old man would always say, ‘You’re of the human race,’ and that’s what he always just told me,” Dunn said. “So I never really paid too much attention to white, black — I was always just human, so you’re never on a side.”

So, from the time he was a child, when he was filling out a form that asked for race, Dunn did as he was taught.

He wrote “human.”

In January, Dunn was promoted to offensive coordinator at Oklahoma State, becoming the only person of color at a Big 12 football program to hold a position of head coach or coordinator.

At that point, Dunn’s role as a black leader and a minority coach in the OSU program instantly became more significant.

“When you start breaking down the opportunities that minorities will have to be head coaches at some point, this is the progression, so for me, it’s a big deal,” Dunn said.

“It’s a big deal because it opens up doors, I think, for other guys to get chances and opportunities now. Being the only coordinator in the Big 12, you know, it’s not a good percentage.”

Five months later, the country has found itself in a much different place, after the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery, and the Black Lives Matter protests that followed.

Strong leaders of young black men have been elevated even more.

Many have pointed to college football locker rooms as a subsection of life where varying cultures and backgrounds and races blend to work together for a common goal — a trait the rest of the world could stand to emulate.

The coaching realm isn’t as diverse. Yet Dunn broke through.

Weeks before he became OSU’s offensive coordinator, he was named to the same position at UNLV. He took the job because it gave him play-calling responsibilities, a role that almost always precedes becoming a head coach. And that’s Dunn’s ultimate goal.

At a family dinner in Houston prior to OSU’s appearance in the Texas Bowl, the Dunns discussed how a move to offensive coordinator would finally put Kasey on the necessary track to possible head coaching jobs.

“We had a long discussion about how there are certain positions that feed into leadership positions, and how you don’t often see minorities in those leadership positions,” said Kayla Dunn, Kasey’s oldest daughter, who is a senior at OSU and was a finalist for the Truman Scholarship, one of the premier postgraduate scholarships for aspiring public leaders in the country.

When Kasey Dunn came to Stillwater in 2011 as receivers coach, it was the 11th stop on his coaching journey that began as a volunteer assistant at the University of Idaho.

He can recall minority coaches who have impacted him. But none who were head coaches or coordinators whom he worked for. And that’s why taking the UNLV job was so important.

A few days later, OSU’s offensive coordinator at the time, Sean Gleeson, left for Rutgers, and Dunn was promoted by Mike Gundy.

“My dad doesn’t make a big deal about many things, but I know with this position, it really did mean a lot to him, especially once he found out he was the only minority in a leadership position in the Big 12,” Kayla said. “He can relate to his players on a more significant level in this position.

“With everything that’s going on with the Black Lives Matter movement and the protests, it’s important to be able to listen and understand where people are coming from, and how people’s lives have been impacted by race and ethnicity.”

Dunn is in a position where black players don’t often see someone of color. For players who want to coach, or young assistants getting started in the business — like quality control coach Lorenzo Joe or student assistant Tracin Wallace — a role model now exists in their world. Not just on television or social media, but in real life, where they do their day-to-day work.

“Dad relates to his players who are minorities, because he went through a lot of struggles growing up, so he relates to them and where they’re coming from in this time, and in general,” Kayla said. “In any case, having someone that looks like you in a leadership position, it gives you a sense of normalcy and a sense that you can do that, too. That position doesn’t have a monopoly by a certain type of person.”

Dunn still thinks of himself first as a member of the human race. He doesn’t automatically think of himself as a black offensive coordinator, and when he’s a head coach, he won’t instantly think of himself as a black head coach.

He was always taught that such labels were unnecessary. But in the effort to further the cause of black coaches in football, the label comes with the territory.

“My old man just said, ‘Hey, man, just go to work and work hard,’” Dunn said. “So that’s kind of how I always saw it. But in talking about it with my wife and daughter, I see how this can open up doors, and I definitely think it can open up opportunities for other people.

“And that’s big.”