The Cost of Retiring Native “Themed” Mascots

10.15.21

The waves that wrought a country’s wreck
Have rolled o’er Whig and Tory
The Mohawks on the Dartmouth’s deck
Shall live in song and story.

— Oliver Wendell Holmes, 1874

On December 16th, 1773, a troop of grown white men “disguised” themselves as Mohawk Indians and dumped 92,000 pounds of tea into Boston Harbor. Some of the more committed participants wore feathers and a headdress, but most settled for “a smear of soot and a blanket.”

Why the colonial rebels chose to adopt lazy guises of Mohawk Indians is up for speculation. Most historians attribute it to a desire for secrecy, anonymity, and/or a scapegoat. “Few,” however, notes Philip Deloria, Harvard’s first tenured professor of Native American history, “took the mammoth leap of imagination necessary to believe that a band of Mohawk raiders had traveled hundreds of miles through now-foreign territory solely to deprive Boston of its tea.”

Whatever their rationale, the Sons of Liberty began a long (white) American tradition of “playing Indian,” a practice that became so entrenched in our schools, our sports, and our imagery that few Americans register the racialized stereotypes that have surrounded us for over a century. How indigenous people’s images were co-opted into “a kind of national mascot” for the “United States of Amnesia” (as described by Paul Chaat Smith in his humorous memoir, Everything You Know About Indians Is Wrong), is now the subject of a long-term Smithsonian exhibit titled “Americans.”

This week, as we celebrate the nation’s first federally recognized Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we discuss the history of Native “themed” mascots. How did they become so endemic, why did they persist for so long, and what is the ultimate cost of retiring them?

Early Fixation with Native American Cultures

At the turn of the 20th century, Native American imagery and (imagined) practices — once the preferred ruse for crafting a national identity in opposition to British colonialism — soon took on another function for white Americans: they served as a romantic escape from the staleness and humdrum existence of modernity. In the 1920s, just as standardization and mass production took off, so too did secret societies, fraternal orders, lodges, and the Boy Scouts. Over 30 million Americans (half the adult population) were active members of secret orders.

“For these fraternal organizations… nothing added a touch of romance better than invented Indian names, Indian rituals, and Indian clothing,” writes long-time activist and author Carol Spindel. “Although real tribes were in serious trouble, white Americans flocked to join play tribes like the Improved Order of Red Men.” Stereotypes of Native Americans (almost all modeled after the Sioux tribe, whose final wars with the U.S. army took place after the invention of photography) appeared in Westerns, government seals, advertisements, and banal consumer products like butter, beer, tobacco, and paper.

Schools took note of this seemingly limitless appeal. Midwestern universities adopted the nicknames given to early white settlers by Natives: the Hawkeyes, Wolverines, and Badgers, etc. Universities with less flattering nicknames such as the University of Illinois (early white settlers in Illinois territory were referred to as “Suckers”) opted for a native “themed” mascot, Chief Illiniwek, instead. There, the administration assuaged the fears of American families first sending their boys off to school by “liken[ing] its students to young Illini, who, the deans and professors decided, had submitted to years of rigorous training and discipline to become Illini warriors.”

College Mascots and Commercial Appeal

Schools were also drawn to the commercial potential of Native “themed” mascots. Nothing invites pomp and circumstance like colorful costumes, a riveting mythology, and mysterious language. (Illinois, the first school with a designated cheerleader, had her shout “Oskee-wow-wow,” an indecipherable phrase invented for its “Indian sound”).

In 1941, Central Michigan’s coach made his case for changing the mascot to the “Chippewas,” an Indian tribe once present in the region. “The name ‘Chippewa’ opens up unlimited opportunities for pageantry and showmanship for the band as well as athletic teams,” he told the student council. “The Indian Chief would be an outstanding marker for athletic uniforms, the Indian pow-wow could replace the pep meeting, and Indian ceremonies could be conducted on many occasions. School flags could be made much more attractive and finally all types of Indian lore have a strong appeal and could be used to great advantage.”

The trend spread across sports leagues nationwide, and soon over 3,000 secondary schools, colleges, and professional teams were marked by nicknames such as the Braves, R*dskins, Chiefs, Indians, Squaws, and Savages — each of which hearkened back to the “nostalgic violence of cowboys and Indians.” Native Americans were grouped with animals (Lions, Ravens, Bears) and extinct groups known for violence (Vikings, Spartans, Pirates) — the only other popular sources of inspiration for mascots.

Lakota scholar and activist James Fenelon contends that widespread racialized mascots are unique to the United States: “It is only in America… where the image of the defamed and destroyed original people becomes so central to their popular professional sports teams.”

Roots of Resistance

The National Congress of American Indians (NCAI), the oldest and largest American Indian organization, has been campaigning against negative stereotyping of Native Americans since the 1940s. It was not until the late 1980s, however, that the current political movement to retire Indian mascots began.

In 1987, Charlene Teters, a Spokane Indian and alumnus of the University of Illinois, was so appalled by Chief Illiniwek’s depiction at a football game (and his cavalier use of Indian spiritual symbols and rituals), that she started a national protest movement against the use of Native American mascots. She faced staunch resistance from the student body and large segments of the broader community, who insisted that they were honoring and celebrating the Illini people through a timeless tradition. “‘But we love our Chief,’ that’s what they say,” said Teters in the documentary, In Whose Honor. “Of course, you love him: you manufactured him.”

Chief Illiniwek was hardly a historically accurate figure. The anthropology department, inspired by Teters’ activism, confirmed his questionable heritage in a scathing letter to the school board: “To represent the Illini with a Plains Indian war bonnet and to dress the mascot in the military regalia of a Sioux warrior is totally inaccurate. It is the direct equivalent of representing Italians or Germans with someone dressed in a Scottish kilt and playing the bagpipes.” As an educational institution, they felt the misrepresentation was particularly egregious. “We do not promote the teaching of ‘flat earth’ theory in geology; why then are we in the business of promoting inaccurate knowledge about Native Americans?”

Despite growing awareness, students were deeply attached to the tradition of Chief Illiniwek and only relinquished his mascot in 2007, after the NCAA banned the use of “hostile and abusive” mascots. Nonetheless, some schools such as Florida State University, which obtained permission from (select) tribal representatives, continue to proudly advertise “arguably the greatest spectacle in college football … when Osceola charges down the field aboard Renegade, a beautiful Appaloosa, and plants a flaming spear at midfield prior to each home game.”

While FSU claims that this is an authentic tribute to the Seminole Tribe of Florida, many modern-day Seminole protestors have begged to differ. “They say the mascot looks like a Lakota who got lost in an Apache dressing room riding a Nez Perce horse,” writes Spindel. “These performers trace their genealogy not to … Seminole tribes but to midway exhibits, Wild West performers, Indian hobbyists, and Boy Scouts.”

How to Retire a Mascot?

Greater progress was made on a national level following Suzan Shown Harjo’s tireless campaign to dismantle the Washington Football Team’s trademark protections on the word “r*dskin.” She partnered up with a Minneapolis lawyer, Stephen Baird, who believed that the R*dskins’ trademark could be removed based on a section of the U.S. Trademark Act which prohibits trademarks that “may disparage … persons, living or dead, institutions, beliefs, or national symbols.”

Many attribute the word r*dskin — “the worst thing in the English language you can be called if you are a native person,” says Harjo — to the British government’s bounty on Indian scalps in the 18th century. Surely, a documented racial slur with a “painful link to genocidal acts” (and used no less by the capital city’s national football team), she argued, should be disqualified from federal trademark protections. She was right. While Harjo’s case lost on a technicality, she advised the lead plaintiff of Blackhorse v. Pro-Football Inc., which canceled the team’s six trademarks in 2014.

Six years later, caving to growing pressure from investors and brands, the Washington R*dskins began the process of renaming their franchise in July 2020. The team, which will not adopt a new name until 2022, may face significant short-term costs. Allen Adamson, a branding expert with Landor Associates, believes these costs could run from $5-$15 million, depending on how fast the team moves.

“The biggest cost is not developing a new name and mark,” said Adamson. “The biggest cost by far is applying it to all the points of touch that a brand like the R*dskins exists on: merchandise, signage, training facilities, and the stadium.” Still, he believes these costs would be offset by fans rushing out to buy old merchandise (now collectibles) and updating their collections with new memorabilia. One of the first studies on the financial impact of NCAA mascot changes confirmed this finding: while schools initially faced a one to two year slump from transition costs, the transition ultimately had no long-term negative effect on brand equity.

Smaller brands interested in changing their name, such as high-schools, may not face the same legal and merchandising costs as a national franchise, but the bill can still be daunting for a school district. Some high-schools have reported costs upwards of $70,000, prompting many Native tribes, particularly the Oneida Nation, to partner with them in an effort to offset costs.

The Path Forward

Indigenous communities are immensely hopeful at the positive changes witnessed since the Washington Football Team announced its rebranding. “We’ve made tremendous progress,” said Harjo. “There were a little over 3,000 of these in 1970 and now there are just a little over 900. So, we have eliminated over 2/3rds of these racist stereotypes in American sports.”

Jay Rosenstein, the University of Illinois media and cinema studies professor who directed In Whose Honor, believes the nation has reached a critical tipping point. “Washington was the highest-profile inappropriate name in the country’s most popular sport,” said Rosenstein. “It sat at the top of the pyramid, so to speak. It’s cleared the way for the other major professional sports teams with Native names to do the same.”

Only three professional teams — the Kansas City Chiefs, Atlanta Braves, and Chicago Blackhawks — still retain Native American themed names. Additionally, the NCAI reports that 20 states across the country are considering formal actions to address the continued use of harmful mascots in public K-12 schools (four states have prohibited them entirely).

Many hope that the end of the mascot fight, at least, is near. “Ideally,” reports Spindel, many prominent Indian leaders “would like other Americans to understand sovereignty, water rights, repatriation, and other complex issues that affect our community. But as a first step, we would like them to acknowledge that we are human.”

About Colbeck: Colbeck is a strategic lender that partners with companies during periods of transition, providing creative capital solutions to meet their evolving needs. You can reach the team at inquiries@colbeck.com.