Daugherty on Cleveland's mascot: Context and intent matter

Paul Daugherty
Cincinnati Enquirer
Foam Chief Wahoos line the shelf at the Cleveland Indians team shop, Monday, Jan. 29, 2018, in Cleveland. Divisive and hotly debated, the Chief Wahoo logo is being removed from the Cleveland Indians' uniform next year. The polarizing mascot is coming off the team's jersey sleeves and caps starting in the 2019 season. The Club will still sell merchandise featuring the mascot in Northeast Ohio. (AP Photo/Tony Dejak)

In October 1991, Atlanta was in full bullish mode when it came to the Braves. Fans displayed their enthusiasm by chanting while “chopping" the air with red, $5 foam rubber tomahawks. It began as a tribute to Deion Sanders, Braves outfielder and renowned Florida State University defensive back. The FSU Seminoles were tomahawk-chopping well before it became a thing at Braves baseball games.

This became an issue for some, who saw the chant, along with the Braves nickname, as offensive to Native Americans. 

More:Cleveland Indians removing Chief Wahoo logo from uniforms starting in 2019 season

That didn’t register with the ballclub in 1991. Braves public relations director Jim Schultz said that The Chop was a "a proud expression of unification and family."     

As the Braves marched through the National League, chopping exploded. Choppers and chop-ettes alike chopped until their elbows ached. By the '91 World Series, you could hear the chant all the way from Fulton County Stadium to Cherokee, N.C., where Cherokee Indians manufactured the tomahawks.

“Hell, yes, we made the tomahawks," said Johnathan Ed Taylor, chief of the Cherokee tribe, to author Dr. Bruce Stapleton. Stapleton, a college professor and 23-year military veteran, in 2001 wrote the book “Redskins: Racial Slur or Symbol of Success?" in which he quoted Taylor.          

“The most important is that it employs my people," said Taylor. “I have 300 working in the plant. Welfare lines are a lot more degrading." 

I guess it all depends on how we look at it.

On Monday, after 71 years, the Cleveland Indians agreed to drop Chief Wahoo as their mascot and from their uniforms. Baseball had been urging it. Indians owner Paul Dolan said, “The logo is no longer appropriate."             

Appropriate or not, we can all agree that Chief Wahoo was a grinning idiot whose caricatured face did Native Americans no favors. The Indians should remove him just for that.            

We’re still having this mascot/nickname debate 27 years after chopping became fashionable in Atlanta. (It still is, by the way.) From the Los Angeles Times in October ’91: “A few people have complained that the tomahawks and the team's name insult American Indians. But those lonely protests have been drowned out by a massive chorus of war whoops."

What’s the answer? There isn’t one. At least not one that everyone can live with. One man’s slur is another man’s economic windfall. Here’s what I believe, after living 28 terrific and edifying years as the father of a child with a disability:

Context and intent matter. How is the word or action used? The Indians, Braves and Redskins obviously don’t see their nicknames as insensitive. That would cost them money. They see things the way Jim Schultz saw them.       

But image can be everything and perception can be reality. I once had a high school special educator say to me, “maybe (my daughter) can’t learn," an assumption based wholly on perception. Jillian thrived after we convinced enough people that looking at her wasn’t good enough. It was time to start seeing her.

It’s possible, even now, that impressionable people look at Chief Wahoo and perceive a dumb Indian, and therefore assume all Native Americans are Chief Wahoo. That’s the problem.      

There’s a comedian from Cincinnati who’s very popular right now. His name is Tom Segura. Segura isn’t very funny, in my opinion, but comedy is subjective. Segura does a bit about words we “used to be able to say," but now can’t, or shouldn’t.           

As evidence, he cites the word “retarded."

From Segura’s TV special:

“You can’t say 'retarded' anymore. People get very upset." Segura asks that we consider the context of his words: “We never said it like that. We were never like, ‘Look at that guy!’ You said it to describe an idea, or a situation, Now you can’t say that. Now you’ve gotta be like, “That’s not … smart. Your idea has an extra 21st chromosome."

Well.

Segura presumes anyone with an intellectual disability must have been born with Down syndrome. That’s wrong. He also believes that the way he uses the pejorative is OK, because we’re supposed to understand that, well, jeez, you know, he didn’t mean it That Way. He’s going to decide for you what’s funny and what’s offensive. This is the essence of those who would be dismissive of removing Chief Wahoo. Yeah?

Try to get your child respected and treated with routine dignity when some people still look at him or her as a “retard."       

That’s the issue here. Not political correctness.

So long, Chief. The ballclub will be just fine without you. Better, actually.