George Beres: Historic College Names and Mascots Are Changing
[George Beres of Eugene was sports information director at Northwestern University, which plays Illinois every year, before moving to the same position at the University of Oregon.]
As a native of Illinois, I'm familiar with the state university's historic sports tradition that revolves around the person of Chief Illiniwek. Today, it is at the center of controversy in efforts of the National Collegiate Athletic Assn. (NCAA) to get universities to replace nicknames and mascots that demean Native Americans.
I have perspective from my Illinois high school (Pekin) whose Chinese name resulted in a team nickname of Chinks, dating from the early 1900s. We were unaware of how demeaning the name was to Chinese. Pekin has had no Chinese residents. As someone pointed out, had we been from Rome high school, it would have been like calling ourselves Dagos. So the name was changed to Dragons in 1981.
The issue has heated up in my current home, Oregon, as the University of Oregon prepared to play Illinois in basketball, Jan. 10, in Portland. How nicknames and mascots can be destructive to minority identity was acknowledged by a former University of Oregon law dean, Rennard Strickland, himself a Native American:
"Media image is especially crucial because it is that image that looms large as non-Indians decide the fate of Indian people. If non-Indian decision-makers continue to view native people as savage survivors or happy hunters on the way to extinction, the policy is different than it would be if decision-makers saw beyond the stereotype."
Much will be at stake in what Strickland refers to as "media image" in the context of sports when the Oregon plays Illinois. For Native Americans and their supporters on the UO campus, media image of the game is but a metaphor for a minority's ongoing pursuit of ethnic justice through the NCAA.
The issue heated up in 2002, when 240 students and 25 Law professors at Oregon brought a resolution in behalf of Native Americans to President David Frohnmayer. He gave them verbal assurances he would not allow Oregon teams to schedule opponents with ethnic nicknames objected to by Native Americans.
Half a century ago, I was captivated by halftime performances of Chief Illiniwek, who in war bonnet gyrated to the beat of drums. It was part of the color of the event, and had no other implications-- or so I thought. That changed when the start of NCAA game telecasts in the 1950s made Native Americans nationwide aware of Chief Illiniwek. It helped fuel their developing opposition to mascots that demeaned them, even if unintentionally.
Decades later, in an age of computers, data inform us the Illini name is among 179 college team "tokens" in the context of the American Indian. Most of the others (103) use the name, Indians.
The issue was reviewed at highest levels within the University of Illinois after it heard concerns of the North Central Assn. of Colleges & Schools in 1999. Among universities that have moved away from Indian names are Stanford, Marquette, Miami of Ohio, Colgate, St. John's, Syracuse, St. Bonaventure, Oklahoma City and Seattle. Although the NCAA has no authority over them, many high schools have dropped Indian names.
Student objections have strong support among Oregon faculty. Journalism professor, Debra Merskin, is an authority on race, gender and media. She believes the university's inconsistency on the issue contradicts its stated plan to recognize and act upon important issues of diversity.
There is historical context. The Illinois Indian nation was made up of the Peoria, Kaskaskia, Piankeshaw and Wea tribes that moved to Oklahoma. As a collective known as Illiniwek, the Oklahoma tribes issued a resolution in 2000, asking the University of Illinois to stop using the chief as mascot. As one member said, because the chief is the highest religious and political position in a tribe, the way he performs at Illinois games is equivalent to having a Catholic Cardinal in his robes do a halftime dance at Notre Dame.
Notre Dame had a related religious incident in football with a college band familiar to Oregon fans. At a game in South Bend, the Stanford band had some of its members parade in nun's robes. Complaints came, and the band apologized, and was punished by its university.
Last February, a student group at the University of Illinois bought a full-page ad in the Oregon school newspaper, asking Oregon not to object to Chief Illiniwek. That feeling is sincere. It also is mistaken, failing to understand deeper meanings of some borrowed symbols.
It would help to have better understanding of foreign and Native American words and culture. More important is the way involved ethnic groups feel. Because its nickname and mascot show insensitivity to Native Americans, Illinois has no choice.
It must do what my high school did with honor: change its symbol. It won't unless schools such as Oregon make it clear that Illinois is a welcome opponent, but its nickname is unacceptable in this state.
As a native of Illinois, I'm familiar with the state university's historic sports tradition that revolves around the person of Chief Illiniwek. Today, it is at the center of controversy in efforts of the National Collegiate Athletic Assn. (NCAA) to get universities to replace nicknames and mascots that demean Native Americans.
I have perspective from my Illinois high school (Pekin) whose Chinese name resulted in a team nickname of Chinks, dating from the early 1900s. We were unaware of how demeaning the name was to Chinese. Pekin has had no Chinese residents. As someone pointed out, had we been from Rome high school, it would have been like calling ourselves Dagos. So the name was changed to Dragons in 1981.
The issue has heated up in my current home, Oregon, as the University of Oregon prepared to play Illinois in basketball, Jan. 10, in Portland. How nicknames and mascots can be destructive to minority identity was acknowledged by a former University of Oregon law dean, Rennard Strickland, himself a Native American:
"Media image is especially crucial because it is that image that looms large as non-Indians decide the fate of Indian people. If non-Indian decision-makers continue to view native people as savage survivors or happy hunters on the way to extinction, the policy is different than it would be if decision-makers saw beyond the stereotype."
Much will be at stake in what Strickland refers to as "media image" in the context of sports when the Oregon plays Illinois. For Native Americans and their supporters on the UO campus, media image of the game is but a metaphor for a minority's ongoing pursuit of ethnic justice through the NCAA.
The issue heated up in 2002, when 240 students and 25 Law professors at Oregon brought a resolution in behalf of Native Americans to President David Frohnmayer. He gave them verbal assurances he would not allow Oregon teams to schedule opponents with ethnic nicknames objected to by Native Americans.
Half a century ago, I was captivated by halftime performances of Chief Illiniwek, who in war bonnet gyrated to the beat of drums. It was part of the color of the event, and had no other implications-- or so I thought. That changed when the start of NCAA game telecasts in the 1950s made Native Americans nationwide aware of Chief Illiniwek. It helped fuel their developing opposition to mascots that demeaned them, even if unintentionally.
Decades later, in an age of computers, data inform us the Illini name is among 179 college team "tokens" in the context of the American Indian. Most of the others (103) use the name, Indians.
The issue was reviewed at highest levels within the University of Illinois after it heard concerns of the North Central Assn. of Colleges & Schools in 1999. Among universities that have moved away from Indian names are Stanford, Marquette, Miami of Ohio, Colgate, St. John's, Syracuse, St. Bonaventure, Oklahoma City and Seattle. Although the NCAA has no authority over them, many high schools have dropped Indian names.
Student objections have strong support among Oregon faculty. Journalism professor, Debra Merskin, is an authority on race, gender and media. She believes the university's inconsistency on the issue contradicts its stated plan to recognize and act upon important issues of diversity.
There is historical context. The Illinois Indian nation was made up of the Peoria, Kaskaskia, Piankeshaw and Wea tribes that moved to Oklahoma. As a collective known as Illiniwek, the Oklahoma tribes issued a resolution in 2000, asking the University of Illinois to stop using the chief as mascot. As one member said, because the chief is the highest religious and political position in a tribe, the way he performs at Illinois games is equivalent to having a Catholic Cardinal in his robes do a halftime dance at Notre Dame.
Notre Dame had a related religious incident in football with a college band familiar to Oregon fans. At a game in South Bend, the Stanford band had some of its members parade in nun's robes. Complaints came, and the band apologized, and was punished by its university.
Last February, a student group at the University of Illinois bought a full-page ad in the Oregon school newspaper, asking Oregon not to object to Chief Illiniwek. That feeling is sincere. It also is mistaken, failing to understand deeper meanings of some borrowed symbols.
It would help to have better understanding of foreign and Native American words and culture. More important is the way involved ethnic groups feel. Because its nickname and mascot show insensitivity to Native Americans, Illinois has no choice.
It must do what my high school did with honor: change its symbol. It won't unless schools such as Oregon make it clear that Illinois is a welcome opponent, but its nickname is unacceptable in this state.