The Only Magic in This Atlanta Hawks–Magic City Collaboration Is the Disappearance of Morality

by Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated

There are moments when a story unfolding in the public square is about something deeper than sports, entertainment, or business. It becomes a moment that forces parents, leaders, and communities to ask themselves a simple question: What are we willing to normalize in front of our children? This moment arrived for me when I learned about the partnership between the Atlanta Hawks and Magic City.

For those who may not know, Magic City is one of the most famous strip clubs in the world. It’s an Atlanta institution in its own right, surrounded by decades of cultural lore tied to music, celebrity, and nightlife. Athletes, entertainers, and visitors to the city have long treated it as a rite of passage. And locally? It sits squarely within the entertainment culture of the city.

But this cultural familiarity does not erase the reality of what Magic City represents as an establishment: At its core, it’s a business whose model is built on the objectification of women.

Now, through an upcoming promotional partnership, that misogyny is being publicly aligned with one of Atlanta’s most visible family-centered institutions – the Atlanta Hawks.

For many, this may simply sound like a clever marketing stunt, a moment where sports and entertainment collide in a city known for both. But for fathers — and particularly fathers raising daughters — the question lands very differently, and I find myself confronting it in a deeply personal way.

I had already purchased tickets to attend an upcoming Hawks game with my youngest daughter, who is 24. It was meant to be a simple father-daughter outing, the kind of night many parents cherish: a basketball game, laughter, shared snacks, a memory created in a place that has long been considered safe and welcoming for families. 

But now, the Hawks, who invite families into their building, have decided it’s perfectly acceptable to celebrate a strip club. The arena where I planned to continue creating memories with my daughter has decided it sees no moral conflict in promoting a partnership with a business built around the commodification of women’s bodies. Because of this, my daughter and I will find another place to bond as father and daughter. 

This isn’t simply a conversation about Atlanta culture. Anyone who lives here understands the role that places like Magic City play in the city’s entertainment ecosystem. Atlanta is a global hub for music, sports, and nightlife. It’s a destination for celebrities and athletes. No one is pretending that those realities don’t exist.

But acknowledging culture is not the same thing as elevating it with an endorsement. The Atlanta Hawks are not simply another nightlife venue. They are a professional sports organization representing one of the largest cities in the United States. Their games are marketed as family events. Their arena is filled with children, parents, school groups, and youth teams who come to watch athletes perform at the highest level.

And when a family-facing institution aligns itself with the objectification of women, it sends a message. It tells young people what adults consider acceptable. It tells girls how the broader culture views their bodies and their worth. It teaches boys something about how women are valued. 

Our sons and daughters are forming their understanding of who they are in a culture saturated with messages that seek to define their worth and roles. We cannot be casual about the messages they receive from institutions they admire.

These messages do not arrive in isolation. They arrive within a broader cultural moment in which the lines between entertainment and responsibility are already blurring at an alarming rate. 

Consider what we are seeing across sports today.

Alcohol companies have long used sports arenas as their most powerful marketing platforms. And now, sports gambling has exploded into a multi-billion-dollar industry with advertising woven seamlessly into broadcasts watched by millions of young people. Athletes are no longer just competitors; they are marketing vehicles for betting platforms, encouraging viewers to wager money in real time.

Domestic violence remains a serious issue within sports culture, despite years of public reckoning and promises of reform. And now, on courts across the country — from the NBA to college basketball to AAU tournaments and high school gyms — violence between players has become increasingly common, with fights erupting almost nightly.

These trends share a common thread: They normalize behavior that adults may feel capable of navigating but that young people are still learning to interpret.

Children do not possess the lived experience required to filter these contradictions. They rely on adults — parents, coaches, institutions, and others — to model the values that shape their understanding of the world.

This is why the silence surrounding the Hawks/Magic City partnership is so troubling.

This week, I spoke with my staff at Fathers Incorporated (FI) about the partnership. Around the table were men and women, Black and white – professionals whose work centers on families, fathers, mothers, and children. Our discussion was thoughtful, reflective, and deeply uncomfortable, not because anyone was shocked by the existence of strip clubs but because of what it means when a major public institution decides to celebrate one.

From a programmatic perspective at FI, we spend our days encouraging fathers to model respect for women, to support mothers, and to raise children who understand the value of dignity and healthy relationships. 

This partnership pushes against that work, and the contradiction deserves to be named.

Equally troubling is the quiet that has surrounded this moment from voices that typically speak loudly about men’s issues, fatherhood, and community responsibility. Where are the leaders who champion responsible fatherhood? Where are the advocates who organize around men’s accountability and respect for women? Where are the voices within the NBA ecosystem willing to say that this partnership may cross a line?

Instead, the few individuals who have raised concerns have found themselves quickly dismissed, mocked, or drowned out by the noise of social media. But social media isn’t where moral clarity is forged. Social media rewards outrage, amplifies controversy, and generates clicks. It’s rarely where thoughtful conversations about ethics and community responsibility thrive.

What matters more is the conversation happening in living rooms and at dinner tables, in homes where parents are trying to raise sons who respect women, and in spaces where daughters are learning how society determines their worth.

Atlanta is not just another entertainment city. It’s the birthplace of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Atlanta is a place whose moral legacy helped reshape the conscience of a nation. This legacy reminds us that culture is not simply what exists — it’s what communities choose to elevate.

And that choice carries responsibility.

This op-ed is not written with the expectation that the Atlanta Hawks will reverse their decision, nor is it written with the illusion that a single column can alter the direction of cultural winds already blowing strongly. It’s written because silence in moments like this sends its own message.

If organizations dedicated to strengthening families remain quiet on topics like this, then we have abandoned part of the responsibility entrusted to us. 

FI has spent decades advocating for fathers to be more present, more engaged, and more responsible in their children’s lives. This advocacy includes teaching men that fatherhood is not only about financial provision or discipline. It is also about modeling the values our children will carry into the world long after we are gone.

Sometimes this requires speaking even when it would be easier to stay quiet, being willing to say what others are unwilling to say, and raising questions that cut through the noise.

Where do we draw our lines?

Children are watching and listening. The world we normalize today will become the one they inherit tomorrow. 

At the very least, somebody should say something.