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Many American Indians hope that by dispelling ignorance they can keep from being trivialized by the majority.
By SUSAN ASCHOFF
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 6, 2000
ST. PETERSBURG -- For many American Indians, the bigger insult is not the slur in a book read by Pinellas County schoolchildren, the name of an NFL team, or the prance of a pretend chief on a Tallahassee football field.
The true affront comes, they say, when their objections are met with indifference.
In recent weeks, hundreds of e-mails from across the country inundated Pinellas school officials after a student complained about the word "squaw" in a novel read by fifth-graders. The protest ignited when the Tyrone Elementary teacher rejected the complaint as misguided political correctness.
A demonstration at the Jan. 15 playoff game at Raymond James Stadium, one of countless appearances at Washington Redskins games by American Indians asking the team name be changed, found Bucs fans unimpressed. "Get a life," they yelled at the group. "It's just a game."
And for more than 20 years, a non-Indian has pretended to be one at Florida State University, riding bareback on the football field while 80,000 fans war whoop in the stands despite objections by American Indians.
"It's okay to stereotype Indians. It goes for the mascot issue to the book to what you see on TV," says Sheridan Murphy, executive director of the American Indian Movement of Florida.
"People do not want to recognize their racism."
Depictions of American Indians as buffoons or savages still riddle American culture, activists say.
Elementary children who refuse to participate in Thanksgiving pageants in which Indians play gullible sidekicks have been ostracized in schools across the country, AIM members say.
Those who march on game day to protest Cleveland's toothy "Chief Wahoo," the Atlanta Braves and their tomahawk chop, and FSU's Chief Osceola mascot are ridiculed.
"If we can't talk about something as innocuous as Chief Wahoo, how can we talk on something as serious as (human) rights?" Murphy asks.
Last fall Murphy wrote a letter to Tyrone Elementary principal Jim Lott and teacher Marcia Jacobs after a student in Jacobs' class reported that the word "squaw" appeared several times in a novel read by the students. The word is derived from a Mohawk term for female genitalia, and has always been used to insult, Murphy says.
The Sign of the Beaver, a Newbery book written by Elizabeth George Speare, is a story about a 12-year-old white boy and a Penobscot Indian who become friends in the 1760s. Teachers throughout the district use the book to supplement American history lessons.
Murphy asked the school to either stop using the book or explain to children why the word is inappropriate.
Jacobs, in a written reply, said she would continue to use the book and that such "twisted thinking" leads to censorship.
"That kind of set off a firestorm," says Ron Stone, Pinellas County schools spokesman. "AIM wanted us to fire the teacher. We've gotten literally hundreds of e-mails . . . complaining about the incident."
"This has nothing to do with political correctness," said one sent by Alan Pyeatt, a Cherokee in California. "Rather, it is part of our struggle for respect and equal treatment."
Jacobs did not return calls seeking comment.
Stone, in an e-mail to all Pinellas schools on Monday, asked administrators to alert staff and teachers about the controversial word and encourage them to "take a few minutes, and explain to students that this is an unacceptable term and should not be used despite the fact it may appear in a reputable piece of literature."
Murphy says AIM wants a more definitive policy and has filed a complaint with the state and federal education departments.
In Tallahassee, a student dressed as Seminole Chief Osceola has for more than 20 years charged down the football field on an Appaloosa to throw a flaming spear into the ground at midfield. FSU's Web site says the mascot's clothing was designed and approved by the Seminole Indian Tribe and credits FSU with inventing the tomahawk chop.
"I support the Seminole name because anybody who has studied the Seminole knows they have a proud tradition and are a strong people," says FSU Senate President Brian Tomlinson.
The Seminole Tribe of Florida has no objections, chairman James Billie has said.
Others are appalled by the disrespect of a people.
"They can always find a hang-around-the-fort Indian to say it's okay," says Vernon Bellecourt, president of the National Coalition Against Racism in Sports and Media and a national AIM board member. "This issue is larger than the Seminole nation. The mascots are used to represent all Indians."
Bellecourt says that when he and fellow board member Michael Haney protested the mascot at an FSU game in October, "we went into the game and by the time this fool . . . rides onto the field, the environment was so hostile we had to get up and leave."
AIM intends to file suit over the mascot, using the 1974 Civil Rights Act and its requirements for equal access to public accommodations. AIM contends such depictions create a hostile environment and keep American Indians from using tax-supported facilities.
In contrast, Miami University in Ohio, which has a longstanding relationship with the Miami Tribe, changed its "Redskins" name after tribal leaders in 1997 asked that it be dropped.
The word "redskin" does not refer to an American Indian's pigmentation. The phrase refers to the practice of paying bounties for dead Indians, their bloodied scalps presented for payment, Bellecourt says. Eagle feathers, body paint, dance and other symbols frequently used by schools and athletic teams are sacred to American Indians.
"To say they honor us with these mascots," he says, "is asinine."
Since the late 1960s, when American Indians began a concerted effort to oust stereotypes in media and sports, some schools and franchises complied. Stanford University has dropped its team name, "Indians." St. Mary's College changed "Red Men" to "Cardinals." The Toronto Blue Jays farm team in New York switched from "Chiefs" to "Skychiefs."
Ten schools in the Dallas district have dropped American Indian mascot names -- Indians, Apaches, Warriors, Aztecs, Braves -- and school board members last year budgeted $60,000 to order new T-shirts and band uniforms.
"We just said, "Look, we wouldn't allow a Black Sambo mascot or a Frito Bandito mascot,' " intercultural relations director Clarence Glover told the Dallas Morning News.
Parents and administrators at many other schools refuse to relinquish what they view as treasured traditions.
Clyde A. Erwin High School in Asheville, N.C., last year became the first public school to be investigated for discrimination by the U.S. Department of Justice over its use of American Indian mascots. A parent complained in November 1996 about the athletic team names, "Warriors" and "Squaws."
Those who wanted to keep the nicknames said government was now in the business of suing over hurt feelings.
In a compromise reached in March, the name "Squaws" was dropped, diversity materials incorporated by the district, and school facilities slated for inspections to remove insensitive imagery. The "Warriors" name remains.
The debate at Erwin High School drew widespread publicity. "We received about 500 e-mails from American Indians from across the nation saying how happy they were that this was finally being dealt with," says Monroe Gilmour, coordinator for the nine-year-old Western North Carolina Citizens for an End to Institutional Bigotry.
In Florida, Sheridan Murphy says schools remain "incubators for racism."
In Pinellas County, the district has one of the best multicultural programs in the state, says director Sheila Keller. The challenge is to "get adults to the point where they know what they don't know."
Neither she nor Stone knew of the offensive roots of the word "squaw."
"This is a good object lesson for us. We haven't said to teachers enough: "It's important you talk about it"' with your students.
Keller says the department has written to Murphy and AIM each of the last six years seeking American Indian representation on an advisory committee for multicultural issues. Each year she has received no response, she says. Murphy says he did not get any letters.
The reaction over the children's book is just another example of society rejecting American Indians, Murphy says. People chastise them for taking offense at a word or marching over a caricature. There are more important things to worry about, they say.
"Our issues go beyond that: education, jobs, treaty rights, desecration of our sacred sites," says Bellecourt, a member of the Anishinabe Ojibwe Nation.
"But we do not wish to go one more year with those pennants flying over stadiums."