When not wrangling copy for the MoJo crew, Ian writes about immigration, sports, and Latin America. His work has appeared in ESPN the Magazine, Wired, and Slate. Got a comment or a tip? Email him: igordon [at] motherjones [dot] com.
As more and more people have called for Washington's pro football team to change its name, some folks have argued that the only way to get owner Dan Snyder to listen is to go after his wallet. That's right: Boycott the team or, failing that, target its corporate sponsors.
On its official website, the team displays five of its largest partners: Ticketmaster, FedEx Express, Bud Light, Ameritel Corporation, and Bank of America. Mother Jones reached out to each of these sponsors, as well as a few others, to see if they had any comment on the campaign to push Snyder to drop the R-word—and whether they had considered dropping their sponsorship because of the controversy. Here's what their spokespeople had to say:
Coca-Cola: "As sponsors, we do not play a role in decisions regarding NFL trademarks. Your questions can be better addressed by the team and the NFL."
FedEx: "We understand that there is a difference of opinion on this issue. Nevertheless, we believe that our sponsorship of FedEx Field continues to be in the best interests of FedEx and its stockholders."
New York Life: "The company has received no complaints. The company plans to assess the sponsorship at the conclusion of the season."
Virginia Lottery: "We have not received complaints regarding the Redskins sponsorship and we are not considering dropping it."
Ticketmaster: "We are declining to comment, but perhaps their sponsor StubHub would have something to say about this. StubHub is located right there in San Francisco."
Thanks for the suggestion, Ticketmaster PR! Unfortunately, StubHub—like Ameritel, Anheuser-Busch, and Bank of America—did not respond to repeated requests for comment.
In November 2008, seven Long Island teenagers "hunting for beaners" set upon two Ecuadorean immigrants in the quiet village of Patchogue. When Marcelo Lucero fought back, he was fatally stabbed. Former New York Times reporter Mirta Ojito reconstructs the night in painstaking detail, illuminating the anti-Latino sentiment that bubbled up as new-immigrant lifestyles clashed with suburban mores. Though she sometimes gets mired in the minutiae, she aptly captures a town's struggle to reconcile its lily-white past with its increasingly diverse present. Of Lucero, Ojito writes: "Only in death were they forced to see him."
Earlier this week, representatives from the Oneida Nation met with NFL higher-ups in New York City to discuss the Washington pro football team's offensive name—the latest in a series of moves to pressure the franchise to change its name and mascot. After the meeting, Oneida representative Ray Halbritter said, "Believe me, we're not going away."
But with everyone from President Obama to Bob Costas weighing in on the [Redacted], it's worth remembering that this issue didn't start when, earlier this year, owner Dan Snyder said that'd he'd "never" change the name—and that it's not limited to one team. Here are some key moments in the history of racially insensitive sports mascots:
The word "redskin" first appears in a Merriam-Webster dictionary. Eight years later, Webster's Collegiate Dictionary notes that the term is "often contemptuous."
The first incarnation of baseball's Cleveland Indians forms. "There will be no real Indians on the roster, but the name will recall fine traditions," the Cleveland Plain Dealer wrote at the time.
Oorang Dog Kennels owner Walter Lingo founds the Oorang Indians, an NFL team made up entirely of Native Americans and coached by Jim Thorpe. The team's popular halftime shows feature tomahawk-throwing demonstrations and performances from Lingo's prized Airedale terriers.
The Duluth Kelleys pro football team changes its name to the Duluth Eskimos.
The Boston Braves changes its name to the Boston [Redacted]. According to the Boston Herald, "the change was made to avoid confusion with the Braves baseball team and the team that is to be coached by an Indian." (The coach, Lone Star Dietz, might not have been Native American.)
The Zulu Cannibal Giants, an all-black baseball team that played in war paint and grass skirts, barnstorms around the country. Six years later, the Ethiopian Clowns continue the tradition of mixing baseball with comedy to appeal to white audiences.
Stewart Udall, John F. Kennedy's interior secretary, threatens to take away the Washington football team's federally owned home stadium due to owner George Preston Marshall's refusal to sign a black player. Despite support from members of the American Nazi Party, Marshall begrudgingly signs a handful of black players for the 1962 season, making Washington the last team in the NFL to integrate.
The Philadelphia Warriors basketball team moves to San Francisco, changing its Native American caricature logo to a plain headdress. In 1969, the imagery is dropped altogether in favor of a Golden Gate Bridge logo.
The Washington [Redacted] registers its name and logo for trademarks.
St. Bonaventure University drops the name Brown Squaws for its women's teams when, as one former player put it, "a Seneca chief and clan mothers came over from the reservation and asked us to stop using the name, because it meant vagina." Seventeen years later, men's and women's team names are officially changed from the Brown Indians to the Bonnies.
Washington [Redacted] fan Zema Williams, who is African American, begins appearing at home games in a replica headdress. "Chief Zee" becomes an unofficial mascot. "The older people been watching me so long, they don't even say 'Indian,'" Williams told the Washington Post. "They say, 'Injun. There's my Injun.'" He still goes to games in his regalia.
Syracuse University drops its Saltine Warrior mascot—a costumed undergrad—and iconography after Native American students call the character racist and degrading.
The Atlanta Braves retire "Chief Noc-A-Homa," a man in Native American dress who would emerge from a tepee in the left field bleachers to dance after a home run. Levi Walker, a member of the Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians and the last man to play Noc-A-Homa, said the Braves were "overly sensitive about being politically correct."
Washington Post columnist Tony Kornheiser writes that "it's only a matter of time until 'Redskins' is gone." He suggests the team change its name to the Pigskins. (In 2012, a Washington City Paperpoll asks readers to vote for a new team name; "Pigskins" wins with 50 percent of the vote.)
Marquette University and St. John's University both change their Native American mascots. Marquette's Warriors become the Golden Eagles; St. John's Redmen become the Red Storm.
The Miami (Ohio) University Redskins become the RedHawks.
The National Congress of American Indians commissions a poster featuring a Cleveland Indians Chief Wahoo baseball cap alongside those from the (imaginary) New York Jews and San Francisco Chinamen. The ad goes viral in 2013 when the [Redacted] controversy heats up again.
The University of Northern Colorado's satirically named Fighting Whites intramural basketball team uses $100,000 from merchandise sales to create a scholarship fund for minority students.
The NCAA grants Florida State University a waiver to continue using its Seminoles nickname and iconography largely due to support from the Seminole Tribe of Florida, which maintains a friendly relationship with the university.
A leaked Atlanta Braves batting-practice cap features the decades-old "Screaming Savage" logo. After a public outcry, it never makes it to stores.
[Redacted] owner Dan Snyder tells USA Today that he'll never change his team's name: "NEVER—you can use caps." Ten members of Congress, including Native American Tom Cole (R-Okla.), sign a letter urging Snyder to drop the R-word: "Native Americans throughout the country consider the term 'redskin' a racial, derogatory slur akin to the 'N-word.'" NFL commissioner Roger Goodell responds that the team's name is "a unifying force that stands for strength, courage, pride and respect."
A resolution by the Inter-Tribal Council of the Five Civilized Tribes states that "the use of the term 'Redskins' as the name of a franchise is derogatory and racist" and that "the term perpetuates harmful stereotypes, even if it is not intentional, and continues the damaging practice of relegating Native people to the past and as a caricature."
Appearing on a DC sports radio program, Goodell says of the [Redacted] name, "If one person is offended, we have to listen."
Obama tells the Associated Press, "If I were the owner of the team and I knew that there was a name of my team—even if it had a storied history—that was offending a sizable group of people, I'd think about changing it." In a letter to season ticket holders, Snyder insists that the name "was never a label. It was, and continues to be, a badge of honor." And, at the end of the month, the Oneida ask to meet with all 32 NFL owners during Super Bowl week:
In the ongoing debate over the name of Washington's pro football team, folks on both sides have argued about the relative offensiveness of the word "redskin" over time. Team owner Dan Synder insists the R-word is a long-standing term of respect for Native Americans, saying in a letter to season ticket holders that "the name was never a label. It was, and continues to be, a badge of honor." Yet dusting off the old dictionary suggests otherwise.
In the current edition (the 11th) of the best-sellingMerriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, redskin is defined as an "American Indian"—with the label "usually offensive" added for clarification. But when did that label get added—and how has Merriam-Webster defined the word over time?
According to Peter Sokolowski, a lexicographer and Merriam-Webster editor at large, "redskin" first made its way into an M-W dictionary in 1890, when its unabridged International defined the word in this way:
A common appellation for a North American Indian—so called from the color of their skin.
That was just the beginning. Here's how Merriam-Webster's definition changed subtly over time:
1898: A different line of M-W dictionaries, the Collegiate, adds an important distinction in its first edition:
A North American Indian; —often contemptuous.
1909: The unabridged New International drops the "so called from the color of their skin" from the 1890 edition.
Dan Snyder, the owner of Washington's pro football team, wrote a letter to season ticket holders yesterday to once again defend the franchise's racist name. Snyder, who in May said he'd "never" change the moniker, focused on the team's long history—mentioning three times that it has been in existence for 81 years—and argued that it "was never a label. It was, and continues to be, a badge of honor." He also argued, in a bit of marketing wizardry, that the name "is a symbol of everything we stand for: strength, courage, pride, and respect."
Snyder went beyond lauding the positive symbolism of the [Redacted] brand, though. Like ESPN columnist Rick Reilly before him, Snyder cited a poll from the Annenberg Public Policy Center that found that 90 percent of Native Americans didn't find the team's name offensive. He also pointed to a Richmond Times-Dispatch story in which a writer contacted three Native American tribal leaders in Virginia; none of them was offended by the name.
"I've listened carefully to the commentary and perspectives on all sides, and I respect the feelings of those who are offended by the team name," Snyder wrote. "But I hope such individuals also try to respect what the name means, not only for all of us in the extended Washington Redskins family, but among Native Americans too."