The Enduring Battle: Native American Mascots and the Quest for Respect
For decades, the vibrant spectacle of American sports has been marred by a persistent, often painful, controversy: the use of Native American imagery as team mascots. From the stoic profiles of forgotten warriors to the rhythmic thud of the "tomahawk chop," these representations, once largely unquestioned, have become potent symbols of a deeper societal struggle over identity, appropriation, and historical justice. What some fans defend as harmless tradition or even a form of honor, Native American communities overwhelmingly denounce as racist, dehumanizing, and a perpetuation of harmful stereotypes.
The debate is not new. It has simmered for over half a century, gaining momentum in the 1970s during the burgeoning Native American civil rights movement. Yet, it was the summer of 2020, amidst a national reckoning on racial injustice, that the dam finally broke, forcing some of the most prominent offenders to confront their past and initiate change.
A Legacy of Caricature, Not Honor
The origins of Native American mascots are often rooted in the early 20th century, a time when the frontier was closed, and a romanticized, often distorted, view of Indigenous peoples permeated American popular culture. Teams adopted names like "Redskins," "Indians," "Braves," and "Chiefs," and logos depicting caricatured faces, feathers, and war bonnets. Proponents often argue these mascots are meant to honor the "strength," "bravery," and "fierce warrior spirit" of Native Americans.
However, for Native American individuals and tribes, this argument rings hollow. "We’re not mascots, we’re people," is a common refrain from activists. The "honor" argument, they contend, is a thinly veiled justification for reducing complex cultures to simplistic, often offensive, caricatures. It strips Indigenous peoples of their contemporary identity, freezing them in a romanticized past that ignores their ongoing struggles and vibrant modern existence.
Dr. Stephanie Fryberg, a University of Arizona psychology professor and member of the Tulalip Tribes, has conducted extensive research on the psychological impact of these mascots. Her studies indicate that exposure to Native American mascots can significantly lower the self-esteem and sense of community worth among Native youth, while simultaneously reinforcing stereotypes among non-Native people. "When you see these mascots, you’re constantly reminded that your identity is not something that’s valued," Fryberg noted in an interview. "It contributes to a sense of invisibility."
The American Psychological Association (APA) passed a resolution in 2005 calling for the immediate retirement of all Native American mascots, logos, and symbols by sports teams, citing the significant negative psychological effects on Native youth. "The research is clear," the APA stated, "that the use of American Indian mascots as symbols in schools and universities is a harmful practice that has a negative impact on the psychological well-being of American Indian students."
The Washington Football Team: A Decades-Long Battle
Perhaps no team embodied the controversy more fiercely than the NFL’s Washington Redskins. The name itself, "Redskin," is widely considered a racial slur, originating from bounties paid for the scalps of Native Americans. For nearly 90 years, despite relentless protests, the team’s owner, Dan Snyder, steadfastly refused to change the name, famously declaring, "We’ll never change the name. It’s that simple. NEVER—you can use all caps."
The fight against the Redskins’ name was led by tireless Native American activists and organizations. Suzan Harjo, a prominent Cheyenne and Hodulgee Muscogee activist, was central to Harjo v. Pro-Football Inc., a legal challenge filed in 1992 that sought to cancel the team’s federal trademark registrations. While the case saw victories and reversals through various courts, it ultimately did not force a name change, but it kept the issue in the public consciousness. Another significant challenge was Blackhorse v. Pro-Football Inc., led by Navajo activist Amanda Blackhorse, which similarly argued for the cancellation of trademarks.
The turning point for the Washington team came in 2020. Amidst nationwide protests against racial injustice and increased corporate pressure, major sponsors like FedEx (which held the naming rights to the team’s stadium) and Nike threatened to pull their support. This economic leverage, combined with pressure from the NFL itself, proved to be the decisive factor. In July 2020, the team announced it would "retire" the Redskins name and logo, temporarily becoming the Washington Football Team, and later, in 2022, rebranding as the Washington Commanders. It was a monumental victory for Native American activists who had fought for generations.
Cleveland and Beyond: A Shifting Landscape
The Washington team’s decision sent ripples across the sports world. The MLB’s Cleveland Indians, another long-standing target of protests, followed suit. For years, the team’s primary logo, "Chief Wahoo," a grinning, red-faced caricature, had been a symbol of contention. Activists, particularly those from the Cleveland-based American Indian Movement of Ohio, had protested Chief Wahoo since the 1970s.
In 2018, the team finally retired Chief Wahoo from its uniforms and signage, acknowledging that it was "no longer appropriate." This was a significant step, but activists continued to push for a full name change. In December 2020, just months after Washington’s decision, Cleveland announced it would change its name to the Cleveland Guardians, effective for the 2022 season. This move, like Washington’s, was celebrated as a victory for respectful representation.
While these major changes occurred, other teams continue to face scrutiny. The MLB’s Atlanta Braves and the NFL’s Kansas City Chiefs, for instance, retain their names and associated imagery. While their names are not explicit slurs like "Redskins," the fan behaviors associated with them, such as the "tomahawk chop" and fans donning fake war paint or feathered headdresses, are deeply offensive to many Native Americans.
During the 2019 World Series, St. Louis Cardinals pitcher Ryan Helsley, a member of the Cherokee Nation, publicly stated his discomfort with the "tomahawk chop." "I think it’s a misrepresentation of the Native American community," Helsley said. "It’s a chop, and I think of a tomahawk, and I think of the Braves, and it’s kind of a stereotype that they’re just doing that for their team." His comments brought renewed attention to the issue, though the Braves organization has been slower to act, often defending the chop as a fan tradition rather than a racial act.
Similarly, the Kansas City Chiefs, despite their name not being a slur, have drawn criticism for their use of a drum and chant that evokes stereotypes of Indigenous ritual, and for fans wearing headdresses. While the team has taken some steps to discourage the wearing of war bonnets and face paint, they have not committed to a name change or fully addressed the "tomahawk chop" equivalent.
The Road Ahead: Education and True Respect
The ongoing controversy highlights a deeper issue: the persistent struggle for Native American visibility and self-determination in a society that has historically marginalized and misrepresented them. For many, the fight against mascots is not just about a name or a logo; it’s about challenging a legacy of cultural theft, historical amnesia, and systemic racism.
The argument that changing a mascot is "erasing history" is often countered with the perspective that it is, in fact, correcting a distorted history and building a more inclusive future. "The real history is one of resilience, survival, and adaptation," says Crystal Echo Hawk (Pawnee), founder and CEO of IllumiNative, a Native-led social justice organization. "Not a caricature of a warrior from hundreds of years ago."
The victories in Washington and Cleveland demonstrate that change is possible when public awareness, corporate responsibility, and sustained activism align. However, the battle is far from over. Hundreds of high schools and colleges across the United States still use Native American mascots, many of which are far more egregious than those of professional teams.
Ultimately, the resolution of this controversy lies not just in name changes, but in a broader societal commitment to education, understanding, and genuine respect for Native American cultures. It requires moving beyond simplistic caricatures and engaging with the richness, diversity, and contemporary realities of Indigenous peoples. Only then can American sports truly reflect the values of honor and fair play for all. The ball is now in the court of teams, fans, and society as a whole to decide whether they will continue to cling to harmful traditions or embrace a future of true inclusion and respect.
