A New Mascot

What a difference a few decades can make.

I have no connection whatsoever to the NFL team in Washington, D.C., other than having been elated when my then-L.A. Raiders defeated them in Super Bowl XVIII.

But I distinctly remember, in my early adult life, rolling my eyes at the calls to change the D.C. team's name to something other than "Redskins".

I genuinely believed people were too sensitive, just looking for controversy, that the name itself was meant to honor and not to disparage, that most people of Native American descent took no offense at the mascot, and that this was just another case of the tail wagging the dog.

One of my college professors assured our class one day that many people's feelings would be much more sensitive about a hypothetical team called the "Whiteskins".  No one responded out loud, but I privately filed this statement away as sentimental pandering from what people would now call a "snowflake".

People just needed to get over themselves.

So, what sense does it make that I feel so joyful at the recent news that this name change is now likely to happen, after all these years, even after the team's owner once vowed it never would?

I guess minds can change, and for that I am grateful.

What seemed ridiculous to me back then seems reasonable now, and my onetime scoffing has turned to sympathy. It isn't mine to decide whether another person should be offended by something that might seem OK to me. It isn't mine to decide for another person whether they should make that offense known, when I might feel that I would keep my hurt feelings to myself.

It has become clear to me that I don't know what it feels like to have some element of my identity used as a mascot by someone who doesn't share that identity, especially if that identity included a clear line to recent ancestors who suffered loss, injustice, and humiliation, and even if that mascot were intended as an honor and not as an insult. If that ever happened to me, would I be offended? I'm not sure I can even guess at that. But even if everything lined up just right to where I took no offense at this scenario, how could I know whether every other person who shared that same identity would also be OK with the mascot?

As a youth, I remember a few of my fellow church members feeling they could not participate in the modern American traditions surrounding Halloween, because they perceived the origins of Halloween to be inconsistent with Christianity. Of course, I had no interest in sitting out the fun of Halloween, and luckily for me, my family felt that the origins of Halloween were less important than what Halloween had evolved into in our time, and what it means to us now.

I don't believe for a moment that anyone who has taken a name from Native American history to serve as a mascot for an athletic team has ever done so with malice or out of a desire to hurt. Probably quite the opposite, in fact. But pure intentions from the past do not necessarily translate across the decades as culture changes. Maybe it's less important what the founders of a team had in mind at a different place in history than how that decision lands today in our minds, and in the minds of our neighbors.

And maybe we just aren't entitled to take something that isn't ours and use it for our own purposes, no matter how pure our intentions are, and no matter whether we see any harm in it.

Maybe it's just not for us to say.

And maybe it's not even all that as much it is just the empathy that a few decades of working with real people can bring. I truly don't want people to hurt any more than people already hurt in this world.

Could it really be that knowing someone is offended is enough to make a change?

The Apostle Paul wrote that he was willing to give up eating meat altogether to avoid hurting anyone who would be offended if they thought he had eaten meat that had been sacrificed to an idol, even though he knew it made no difference at all. Was he ever called upon to cash that check? Not that we know of, but that's quite a statement to make.

I don't know if I could make a vow like that myself, which brings up an obvious challenge:

I'm not a Washington Redskins fan. I have nothing personal invested here. Would this all be harder to swallow if we were talking about my favorite team? A team I had cheered for all my life, whose logo I had worn through several different eras of fashion? A team for whom I had wept?

Yeah..that's a lot harder to imagine, and I can see how much I might resist this change in that circumstance.

But I guess that's where this becomes real.

What is more important to me?

The freedom to ignore another person's feelings for the sake of my perspective, or the fellowship with another person that might require a change in my perspective, perhaps even a change that is painful to me?

The freedom to carry on, knowing I am causing offense, or the trust that might be created by removing the cause of offense, even if I don't see it as offensive?

I pray I am able to see the answer as clearly when I am the one in the Redskins' position.