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It’s a tale of two cities. One is in northeast Alabama. It was supposed to be called “Arad,” named after the founder’s son. It never happened. A typo in the Fed application was the reason. Leaders tried to get it changed, but Washington said “no dice.” In 1882 Arad became Arab. The other place is in Southern California. It’s Coachella Valley, the largest date-producing area in the U.S. It’s an industry that got started in the 1890s when date palm shoots arrived from Iraq and Egypt.
People in both towns are crazy about high school sports. The Knights play in Arab. The Arabs play in Coachella Valley. That’s right, the Arabs. It’s not just the nickname that’s controversial: the Coachella Valley High mascot is a caricaturized older man dressed in Middle Eastern garb.
Courtesy: huffington post
Many outsiders wonder why this persists—amazed that a place with a large minority population (50% Hispanic) would permit it. The school board has the issue “under review.”
Coachella Valley is experiencing the dilemma of Rights vs. Responsibilities. The school system has a right to pick a name and select a mascot. These are private matters. Well, not really—not when an entity has a public dimension. Sports are played in public, and athletic events are community experiences. With naming rights comes the need to act responsibly, that is, not to disrespect or offend the public –or any sub-set of the public. The same logic applies to privately-held entities, such as pro teams, because they have public connections, too.
Courtesy: National Congress of American Indians
For society it’s a matter of balancing Rights and Responsibilities. Too much focus on rights means anybody can do whatever they please anytime they want. Uncompromised rights for some will trample the rights of others. But too much emphasis on responsibilities is just as problematic. Freedom of expression gets constrained, narrowing the boundaries of what one can do, when, and how. That outcome is an anathema in democratic settings.
History and tradition plays a big role in all of this. The Coachella Valley situation is an example. Local leaders didn’t pull the nickname “Arabs” out of a hat. There’s a century-old link to the Middle East. The question—and it’s a public issue today—is whether it’s appropriate to activate that link in a stereotypical way. Some don’t see it that way. Others cry foul. Some contend it’s a local matter only. Others believe outsiders need to have a say, too.
The resolution isn’t complicated. In democratic societies the general public weighs in on matters like this. Why? The situation has implications and consequences—not just for the people who live there—but for people affiliated with the chosen name and for everybody else who cares. But the public writ large won’t make the final call. That’s a matter for local authorities—exactly what’s happening in Coachella Valley.
But with history and tradition there’s a challenge: the tricky matter of honoring the past while recognizing that times change. That issue is well addressed in a MOTHER JONES article co-authored by Matt Connolly and Ian Gordon. (11/1/13 @ http://m.motherjones.com/politics/2013/10/timeline-history-offensive-sports-mascots-redskins-snyder). I can relate to it personally.
Syracuse (football) and St. Bonaventure (basketball) were my favorite college teams as a kid. SU had a Native mascot, “The Saltine Warrior,” a stylization that connected two themes—local salt mining and fierce combat. It never dawned on me that SU’s mascot offended anybody. But, of course, it did. Native Americans approached the school asking that it be removed. In 1978 SU complied.
The Bonnies were called the “Brown Indians” back then. The name combined the color of priestly garb worn by the Franciscans (the Catholic order that runs the school) with being on the athletic warpath. I didn’t think anything of it. I wasn’t even bothered by the nickname of the women’s teams, “The Brown Squaws.” But, once again, external pressure brought an end to both names.
Society was less sensitive about language use and ethnic references back then. I’m not Native American either. Put the two together and mindless detachment followed. I wasn’t aware socially and I wasn’t affected personally. I didn’t care, not in a dismissive or confrontational way, but in a thoughtless way. The issue simply wasn’t on my radar screen.
Today it is. And it should be for everybody. That’s because we live in world that struggles with trying to connect people who have been divided historically—by gender, race, income, ethnicity, culture, religion, geography, and in so many other ways. It makes no sense to create more or deeper divisions, dishonoring people in the process. Put simply, the right to dishonor shouldn’t outweigh the responsibility to act honorably.
Institutional authorities at public and private schools need to lead for the public good. And the message for corporate leaders—including professional leagues and the owners of sports franchises—is straightforward and uncomplicated: You can’t privatize a public good. A multi-millionaire may own a team, but that team isn’t a private asset only. Without ticket and clothing sales, TV revenue, and all the other ways the public supports a team, no club would make it financially.
It comes back, again, to balancing Rights and Responsibilities. Regulations do that through laws and rules. However, there’s the fundamental option of doing the right thing voluntarily.
Courtesy: 11points.com
That assertion applies especially well to naming rights. While forging a connection to the past through team names and mascots can be ennobling, it can be disconcerting, too. That happens whenever a painful, historic association becomes a contemporary, public matter.
That’s what’s happening today in Robstown, Texas. The high school team is “The Cotton Pickers.” Some locals say it’s a source of pride, a tangible link to the town’s early economy. But it’s also a source of anguish for many African Americans and Mexican Americans.
Who among us wants a life picking cotton? What are we teaching kids when a portrait of disenfranchisement is memorialized as a school’s nickname?
What’s in a name? A LOT.
