[CornFed]

Teams from my high school were referred to as the Little Maroons.  The local college, Morningside, was the Maroons.  The depiction of the mascot was a comically drawn caricature of an Indian, but looked nothing like any of my Native-American teammates or classmates.  We in fact joked at times about how stupid the image was.  I felt at the time that he looked far too friendly and not nearly fierce enough to engender the proper fighting spirit.

It was not until I got to Stanford and read "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" that I gained a deep perspective on the injustice of the Native-American experience.  Further, in reading de Toqueville's "Democracy in America" I was amazed at his prescience in describing his vision for the outcomes he felt would ensue for the black population of America and the Indian population. 

The issue of Stanford changing our mascot generated great inner conflict.  I had quickly come to revere our tradition, primarily because of what I felt was the respect it manifested for the culture and traditions of at least one Native-American tribe.  I saw people spitting mad, like Yvonne, because of the trivialization of tragedy they felt was represented.  I knew others, like me, who were saddened and confused.  I saw others, sadly, who were angered and who dismissed the issue without much thought.  Of course, at Stanford, there were probably those who didn't know, or care, what or who our mascot was (LOL).

I do not pretend to comprehend the effect that these images have on Native-Americans.  My interactions with individuals with varying degrees of Indian ancestry gives me many different impressions of how it is perceived, but I don't know how it feels.  But I do not pretend to care more than you.  I do not denigrate your understanding of the facts of American history.  I have plenty of life experience to tell me I do not have the answers.  It rankles me to be pre-judged because I ask the questions.

[CornFed]

Teams from my high school were referred to as the Little Maroons.  The local college, Morningside, was the Maroons.  The depiction of the mascot was a comically drawn caricature of an Indian, but looked nothing like any of my Native-American teammates or classmates.  We in fact joked at times about how stupid the image was.  I felt at the time that he looked far too friendly and not nearly fierce enough to engender the proper fighting spirit.

It was not until I got to Stanford and read "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" that I gained a deep perspective on the injustice of the Native-American experience.  Further, in reading de Toqueville's "Democracy in America" I was amazed at his prescience in describing his vision for the outcomes he felt would ensue for the black population of America and the Indian population. 

The issue of Stanford changing our mascot generated great inner conflict.  I had quickly come to revere our tradition, primarily because of what I felt was the respect it manifested for the culture and traditions of at least one Native-American tribe.  I saw people spitting mad, like Yvonne, because of the trivialization of tragedy they felt was represented.  I knew others, like me, who were saddened and confused.  I saw others, sadly, who were angered and who dismissed the issue without much thought.  Of course, at Stanford, there were probably those who didn't know, or care, what or who our mascot was (LOL).

I do not pretend to comprehend the effect that these images have on Native-Americans.  My interactions with individuals with varying degrees of Indian ancestry gives me many different impressions of how it is perceived, but I don't know how it feels.  But I do not pretend to care more than you.  I do not denigrate your understanding of the facts of American history.  I have plenty of life experience to tell me I do not have the answers.  It rankles me to be pre-judged because I ask the questions.