My brother, Daniel, and I in Rome.
Humans are quite distinct from
animals. The former write poetry and memorize
things like the Pythagorean Theorem and the U.S. presidents. The latter eat poop. Whether we deserve to be inside or outside of
bars, we generally know where to draw the line.
So why is it that we still can’t get it right for some of the most
oppressed people—Native Americans? As
time has passed, Americans have eliminated many forms of native-themed
paraphernalia, and Northwestern University has established a committee
redressing John Evans’s role in the Sand Creek Massacre. But the fight for basic human rights remains
paramount. And who’s a better mascot for
this cause than the Cleveland Indians, located, ironically, in Progressive
Field?
Sure, Willie Wampum isn’t dancing down the
fifty-yard line anymore, but the names and logos still in commission highlight
our nation’s shameful exploitation of an important race and culture.
To be clear, I don’t allege any
Native American heritage, and my experiences can attest to that. A white friend and central Illinois native
once shared his family’s rite of passage: accompanying dad to watch Chief
Illiniwek parade across the field.
Notwithstanding this time-honored tradition, children witnessing such events
will blind themselves to the historical and contemporary struggles native
people face unless they actively challenge them—an approach the NFL and MLB
could uphold by retiring racist mascots.
Most influential to my beliefs on
this matter are those of my own aunt and uncle, who defend constantly the
Chicago Blackhawks’ right to shape an underrepresented people’s history the way
they see fit.
My brother told me of an argument he had with our aunt while he
was living in Chicago: “Well, what about Satanists? Aren’t they
offended by devil mascots?,” she remarked one day, playing devil’s
advocate. “Perhaps,” my brother said, “But Satan isn't a human being
deserving of human rights, namely the right not to be
portrayed as a violent savage." I later added in my own accounts
that Satanists might admire Satan precisely because of his ruthlessness,
whereas Native Americans probably wish every day that the rest of the world
could see them as they are: people with hearts and souls and complex
identities. The devil is not here to disprove his popular portrayal, but
Native Americans are, and we need to listen.
Arguments revolving around animal rights
and certain human roles or nationalities—such as the Cowboys or the Fighting
Irish—are less extreme but nonetheless question our use of any mascots. The fact of the
matter, however, is that animals are animals, cowpokery is an outdated job, and
the Irish have not experienced the American oppression that native peoples are
all too familiar with. There’s no
escaping that reality. While perhaps
none of these groups deserve to be defamed on a football field, our most
pressing issue is that of the people our forbearers persecuted.
I don’t blame my aunt or my friend for
the relentless pride they take in their local teams. That’s the way they were raised, and it’s
hard to change long-imbued mindsets. But
it’s far from impossible. Over time,
sane Americans have released their hold on the institution of slavery, on the
Confederate States of America, and on barring women from higher education. We can find something other than native-themed
mascots to cling to—something that all humans can agree on. It’s a challenge, but a worthy one.
The ubiquity, popularity, and sway of the
sports-media complex greatly desensitize us to larger inequalities. Most days we hear some version of: “The
Redskins whipped the Dolphins today, and look at those Raiders go! Yeah, demolish those Cardinals!” And most days we don’t even notice it. Implicating the media for many of our
problems isn’t a new technique, but our apathy toward the bubble in which we
live is getting old. Football will still
be the majestically violent sport it always has been when we drop the
associations with savagery and primordial instincts.
All of this is not to say the plights of
other ethnic groups are invalid.
Implicit and explicit racism continues to line the doors to justice in
this country, especially as we consider consistent evidence of police
brutality, a lack of comprehensive immigration reform, and the stigma that
interracial couples still face. But all
of this seems to start and end with the media’s plain endorsement of inaccurate
and antiquated imagery, which reminds Native Americans everyday how twisted
their past has become. If we can nip
this in the bud before it spreads any further, we can prevent a lot of damage.
By virtue of enduring colonialism, Americans
think they can lay claim to everyone and everything that came before us. Despite all the wrongs we have committed
against people of African descent, however, we have enough common sense not to name
a team the Tallahassee Tutsis. Even when
we have stooped so low, national and even local recognition of such mascots as
the “Chinks” has stopped altogether.
So what’s our obsession with Native
American culture? It’s powerful, it’s mighty,
it’s just the way it is? Since when is “the way it is” always the way it should be? However sexy the “noble savage” is to us
virgin white men, there is no reason other than fetishism, a quest for
domination, and/or conformity to bigotry to explain our insistence on Native American mascots. And if these are our only reasons, we really
have no reason at all. Once we realize
this particular defect in our ancestor’s ambitions, society will raze the bumps
history has created and give way to a level playing field. All humans will have the opportunity to voice
their concerns, address evils, and portray the image they want to portray. Immutable human rights will be won for all.
The last counterargument comes from
my dad, who for the heck of it, threw out the idea of “the Sante Fe Ethnic Cleansers.”
“Isn’t that a non-human ‘role’ just like
a cowboy or a Viking?,” he prodded, facetiously.
“Well, I guess it is,” I said, “but isn’t the whole point about being
sensitive to the mistreatment and misrepresentation of other cultures?” After everything we’ve been through and
everything we have at stake, let’s just see if that name takes off.
I write this in the hope that I can convince a few of you that no one has anything to gain from Native American mascots. More than anything, however, I share this with you to further my brother's petition on change.org, calling for the NHL and the Chicago Blackhawks to retire their racist mascot. Please take a moment and sign this petition here. Thank you so much for reading.
Amanda
