(Name-mce) ListServ More Than a Mascot

[Anselmo Villanueva]

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http://insidehighered.com/news/2007/02/19/chief

February 19, 2007

More Than a Mascot

Last summer, Vernon Burton gave lectures on history and the use of
computing in humanities research at meetings in Britain and France.
When he finished each talk, the first question wasn't about his
research, but about Chief Illiniwek, the mascot at the University of
Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and why the university would keep a
symbol that is offensive to American Indians.

"What people knew about the university was the chief, not the research
and teaching here," said Burton, a critic of the mascot and president
of the Faculty Senate. On Friday, the university announced that Chief
Illiniwek would make a final appearance at a men's basketball game
Wednesday — and then would be retired. "It's a long nightmare that has
ended at last," Burton said.

For supporters of the chief mascot, of course, Friday was the
nightmare, and the two sides dueled in press events, in court, and in
the court of public opinion. But Burton and some others said that the
issues for Illinois — by any academic measure a top public university
— are much broader than the question of whether a student pretending
to be an Indian dances for a few minutes at football and basketball
games. The debate at Illinois, many say, has consumed time and
attention of university leaders, influenced who is a university
leader, hurt the institution's reputation, and led to doubts about the
role of shared governance.

"It's long past time for this issue — and Illiniwek — to go away,"
said a Chicago Tribune editorial on Saturday. "Over the years, the
debate has occupied the time and energy of students, university
administrators and trustees, alumni, the Illinois General Assembly,
the U.S. Senate and at least two governors. All of them have more
important things to worry about, such as studying for finals or
running the country. The squabble over the chief is a distraction and
a poor reflection on the state's flagship academic institution."

The announcement from the university — rumored for months to be
imminent — walked a fine line between blaming the National Collegiate
Athletic Association for the shift, and saying it was an independent
decision. In 2005, the NCAA stunned Illinois and a group of other
colleges by announcing that institutions that continued to use Native
American symbols or imagery in ways that were hostile to American
Indians would be barred from being the hosts of postseason tournaments
or from participating in NCAA championships if such images appeared on
uniforms worn by athletes or others involved in athletics when they
participated.

Illinois was among the institutions that blasted the NCAA, and
appealed its findings — winning a limited victory when the NCAA said
that the name "Illini" was not problematic (it could refer to the
state, not just a tribe). But the NCAA rejected the contention of
Illinois (as well as some other colleges that use Native American
imagery) that Chief Illiniwek was an honor for Native Americans.

Much of the Illinois announcement stressed that the decision to end
the use of the chief removed the university from NCAA sanctions. But
at the same time, the university statement said that the decision was
the natural result of a "consensus process" that the Illinois board
had pledged to use to resolve the chief issue. And an FAQ released by
the university answered the question "Did the university cave to the
NCAA?" with the answer No, and yet the same answer went on to note the
penalties paid by the university for not being in compliance with the
association's rules.

The official statement also included much praise for the Chief
Illiniwek tradition, and didn't include any acknowledgment that the
NCAA or American Indian groups might have had legitimate reasons not
to want pretend Indians entertaining largely white crowds with Indian
imagery. "The Chief Illiniwek tradition inspired and thrilled members
of the University of Illinois community for 80 years," said Lawrence
C. Eppley, the board chair, in a statement. "It was created, carried
on, and enjoyed by people with great respect for tradition."

The chief first started performing at Illinois athletic events in
1926, and is best known for appearing during the halftime shows at
football games. Students are selected to play the chief and many of
those who have done so consider it a high point of their college
experience. But while some colleges with Indian names have accused the
NCAA of making an issue where none existed, that would be hard to
claim at Illinois. Protests have been taking place on the campus since
1989, the chief's role has been the subject of a critical PBS
documentary and a scholarly book. At Illinois, criticism of the chief
has been as strong as at any institution with an Indian name, but so
too has been the activity of defenders of the tradition. (The
University of North Dakota and Florida State University may have
rallied with equal intensity, and the former is now in court with the
NCAA while the latter won an appeal from the association.)

Carol Spindel, an adjunct in English at the university, has studied
the Illinois mascot issue as much as anyone. Her book, Dancing at
Halftime: Sports and the Controversy Over American Indian Mascots,
focused on Illinois, but also covered many other institutions. (It was
originally going to be published by the University of Illinois Press,
but the topic was too hot to handle there, and the work landed at New
York University Press and won strong reviews upon publication.)

Spindel said that she wasn't certain why the issue became so divisive
at Illinois, while other places were able to work through the issue
with relative civility. She said that there has been politicization of
the issue and "inept leadership." She particularly faulted the
university's board for letting pro-mascot groups appear to be speaking
for the university over the years, in opposition to Native Americans
and their supporters. People who are associated with the fight against
the chief have received fairly constant insults on campus, and
sometimes far worse, Spindel said.

Southeast Missouri State University is among the many institutions
that retired Indian names and Spindel attended a ceremony that marked
the 2005 switch from "Indians" to "Redhawks," and was struck by how
many people mentioned the Illinois tensions. At the ceremony, Spindel
said, "people were very upbeat and very positive about the future of
their program, and they sad to me, 'we've looked up the river at you,
and we can't afford to have our community divided and we can't afford
the lawsuits.' "

While Spindel said that she was very pleased with the decision
announced Friday, she wished there could have been more acknowledgment
of the problems created by the chief over the years. "It's too bad the
University of Illinois couldn't have used the retirement as a
teachable moment to stress the importance of respect for all. This
would have been especially valuable for non-Native students and might
have helped to establish the atmosphere of respect the campus lacks,"
she said.

The backlash against critics of the chief has been "very real" and has
frequently reached the point of harassment, Spindel said, noting the
recent furor over Facebook entries involving university students. One
Facebook group that attracted over 110 members is titled "If They Get
Rid of the Chief I'm Becoming a Racist." One of its postings reads,
"[W]hat they don't realize is that there was never a racist problem
before ... but now I hate redskins and hope all those drunk casino
owning bums die."

Another post states that one of the leaders of the movement to remove
Chief Illiniwek is of Sioux descent. "I say we throw a tomohawk [sic]
into her face." The university is investigating the comments and — in
an escalation typical of many of the Illiniwek debates — that inquiry
has set off its own controversy. The Foundation for Individual Rights
in Education is calling on the university to end its inquiry, saying
that the Facebook threats were "hyperbolic" but not real threats since
it is unlikely that those writing them intended to actually attack
Native American students "with an antiquated weapon."

Many faculty members believe that Nancy Cantor, who left the
chancellor's position at Urbana-Champaign in 2004 after only three
years in office, was in an untenable position at Illinois because of
the chief issue. By the time she arrived, the chief issue was firmly
in the control of the board and she did not speak out on the chief
specifically. But Cantor is known for speaking regularly about the
importance of inclusiveness and equity and outreach to minority
students — values that were taken by some of the chief's supporters as
some kind of disloyalty. Some of those supporters put up anti-Cantor
billboards around town. (Cantor has attributed her departure not to
the chief issue, but to her desire to take the position as chancellor
of Syracuse University.)

Burton, the Faculty Senate president and director of the director of
the Illinois Center for Computing in the Humanities, Arts and Social
Sciences, was on the search committee that was created when Cantor
left, and he said that some candidates who were approached declined to
be considered because of the chief issue.

He also saw damage to the system of governance. The Faculty Senate
repeatedly passed resolutions urging the board to drop the chief, but
was largely ignored and moves for board action were aborted. "Shared
governance fell down on the issue," Burton said, although he also
noted that he and other faculty leaders mentioned the question at
meeting after meeting of the university board.

In the end, he said, the NCAA gave cover to the board to do the right
thing, without fear of offending pro-chief alumni donors. "I know that
there are many trustees who are great fans of the chief, and I
appreciate their moral courage" in acting now, he added.

The chief has become a symbol for all kinds of things having nothing
to do with education, Burton said. Many of those rallying around it
saw the fight against the mascot as an issue of political correctness.
"There is so much going on in society. People feel that their lives
are being controlled by other people," he said. "So to people who are
upset about affirmative action or other issues, the chief becomes a
symbol to hold onto," he said. "I think we have to be sympathetic to
understand that other people will not see this as a moral decision and
an important educational decision.... People have given up something
that is very dear to them and that they care very much about."

But while Burton is sympathetic to their feelings, he is also worried
about the lack of effort to put the chief in the context of history,
and about the university not acceptingthe responsibility — even after
ending the chief's role — to do more to recruit and welcome students
of all kinds.

"Let's not fool ourselves. This nightmare for the university is over,
but there is a reality that is much more important," he said. White
Americans have decided how Native Americans (and other non-white
Americans) should be seen (and controlled) since Columbus, he said,
and that history isn't understood as it should be. At a university,
"we need to focus much more on diversity of all kinds — of having
people with different points of view, on freedom of speech, and
providing access for people from different groups, both minority
groups and white with less income," he said.

Burton wants chief critics to be "very cautious" now, and to avoid
thinking they have won some great victory when what they have really
won was the most visible, but not necessarily the most important,
battle.

Native American groups — at Illinois and elsewhere — took a similar
approach. A statement from the Native American House at Illinois
praised the decision, but added that "we know that retiring the
performance of the mascot does not solve campus climate issues, and we
will continue to work with the campus and the community to address
misinformation and miseducation about indigenous peoples, histories,
and cultures."

The Oglala Sioux Tribe also praised the decision, but reiterated its
demand that the regalia used by Chief Illiniwek be returned. The
university has said that it purchased or was given various Sioux items
used in the mascot's performances, but tribal leaders say that they
originally thought the university was borrowing items for use in
historically accurate portrayals of their tribe, not for what the
tribal board has called "the antics of persons playing 'Chief
Illiniwek' " in a way that "perpetuates a degrading racial stereotype
that reflects negatively on all American Indian people." (The
university says that it hasn't decided what it will do with the
regalia.)

Supporters of the chief are not giving up their fight. Students who
portray the chief were in state court on Friday trying to obtain an
injunction to prevent the university from ending use of the mascot or
the NCAA from pressuring it to do so. The students won sympathy, but
not their desired injunction. An account of the hearing in a local
paper quoted Judge Michael Jones as saying that the university had the
option of suing the NCAA and made a decision not to. "Right or wrong,
this is their call," he said.

Where Jones was most sympathetic to the students was on their charge
that the NCAA is hypocritical in permitting some institutions (such as
Florida State University) to keep Indian mascots because they have
backing from tribal leaders, while forcing Illinois and others to
change.

"It's an easy sell that enforcement of the policy is arbitrary and
capricious," the judge was quoted as saying. "They don't wish to
associate with members who use Native American imagery, unless, of
course, they do."

Supporters of the chief are studying additional legal options and
standing by their tradition.

Pal Schmitt, a sophomore who is vice president of Students for Chief
Illiniwek, grew up in central Illinois, coming to sporting events as a
child and growing to love the tradition of the chief. "It's something
that outsiders of the university or people who aren't of the state
don't understand," he said. "Seeing the performance, you get the sense
of dignity, of bravery, spirit, honor. It does really embody those
things."

Asked if the feelings of Native Americans should come into play, he
said "of course," but he said that "this is much bigger than race" and
that both sides of the debate have ignored the issues raised by the
other side. "Both sides are very guilty," he said. "Those who are
against it instantly brand anyone who would support it as a racist,
and those who support it shrug off those concerns."

Schmitt said that his message to an American Indian would be: "I'm
sorry we can't get the same inspiration out of it, but you need to
look at the greater good that it is doing."

Supporters of the chief stress that they love Native Americans and
their culture. Jean Edwards, who graduated in 1953 and is treasurer of
the Honor the Chief Society, has been working on the issue for 18
years, ever since opposition to the mascot started to grow. She said
Friday that she was "heartbroken" and didn't understand how supporters
of the chief were seen as insensitive to American Indians.

The chief "has been giving something to the Native Americans that they
haven't had before — all these people who were interested in learning
more" after seeing a performance. She said that she and her colleagues
all feel great respect for Indian culture. "I've always like Native
Americans. I have lived in Illinois all my life. Every summer growing
up I went to Wisconsin and lived next door to a wonderful Native
American couple. I bought a lot of jewelry. We went to a lot of
pow-wows together," she said. "I never thought of anyone not accepting
them at all."

She blamed the controversy on efforts to recruit Native American
students. "There was this professor who wanted to get more Native
American students to come to school here, so every year it got more
and more important" for faculty members to talk about the chief, she
said.

Edwards predicted that many alumni will stop giving. "I think the
impact will be financial. There are people who honest to goodness
believe that they will not give again," she said.

That belief is shared by many at Illinois, even some critics of Chief
Illiniwek who have said over the years that the university needed to
find a way to prevent an alumni revolt. The irony is that most
available evidence suggests that universities that move away from
Indian names or mascots end up doing well. At Stanford University, the
name Indians was replaced with Cardinal (the color, not the bird), in
1972, and officials are proud of having made the change early, based
on complaints from a small group of Native American students, but not
having been forced by the NCAA or anyone else.

The general pattern, according to officials at Stanford and
institutions that made similar decisions, is for the noise and anger
to quickly subside, except for very small groups of alumni. Richard
Little, a Miami University spokesman who organized a mascot switch in
1996 (from Redskins to Redhawks), noted in a 2005 interview that the
university sells more clothing now than it did with the old name,
notwithstanding those fans who were upset about the change. He said
that there is at least once sure way to win over most alumni: "You'll
get support for any name if you win."

— Scott Jaschik