From the WSJ Opinion Archives
TASTE COMMENTARY
A Team Named Sioux
It's amazing what can get some people fighting mad.
When the University of North Dakota hockey team takes to the ice tonight against the Brown Bears, it'll be greeted by 11,500 screaming fans in the Ralph Engelstad Arena in Grand Forks, N.D. At 16-1-1, the team is off to one of its best starts in history and is truly the surprise of the college hockey world--ranked No. 1 after finishing below .500 last season.
If tonight is like many other recent hockey nights, there will be another rabid group on hand--this one outside the arena and not at all in a cheerleading mood. These students will gather to decry the school's "Fighting Sioux" nickname, adding their bit to a general campaign of protest. The North Dakota team is also regularly met by protesters at such rival schools as St. Cloud (Minn.) State.
This might seem to be just another case of college students, with the support of some teachers, working themselves into a lather over what they see as a social injustice--in this case, the injustice of using a phrase that conveys the sting of centuries of insult and oppression.
But does it?
"Fighting Sioux," as it happens, is not akin to "Redskins" (although even Washington's pro football team hasn't had to apologize for that one). "I would point out that since the Sioux actually call themselves 'Sioux,' " says North Dakota President Charles Kupchella, "hardly anyone considers the term to be inherently derogatory or stereotypical."
And the university doesn't have an offensive caricature for a mascot, like the Cleveland Indians' grinning Chief Wahoo. Rather, North Dakota's majestic Indian head logo was designed three years ago by Bennet Brien, a Native American artist. Most important, North Dakota is one of the country's leading schools in Native American studies. It has more than 30 distinct programs for Native American students and has graduated an estimated 25% of the Native American doctors in the U.S.
But all that doesn't matter, apparently. Once the tribunes of the oppressed are in full cry, there is no turning back. Beyond protesting the nickname, opponents have condemned the licensing of the Fighting Sioux name on products like the water sold at Engelstad Arena--H-Sioux-O--and they are trying to get the bookstore to stop selling apparel with the phrase "Fighting Sioux" on it.
The controversy has been going on for a long time--stretching back to 1930, when the name was first used at the school--but it reached a fever pitch in 2000, not long after Ralph Engelstad, a former goalie for the team and the owner of the Imperial Palace hotel and casino in Las Vegas, donated $104 million to build a hockey arena. The showplace was to feature marble floors, leather seats and a 10,000-square-foot weight room that includes an underwater treadmill. There would be nothing else like it in college hockey.
What angered protesters most was the several thousand Fighting Sioux logos that were to adorn the place. The protesters--some Native American but most of them white--pushed all the harder to get the school to change the nickname. Mr. Engelstad said he'd pull his check if the school did so. It didn't, and the arena was built in all its splendor.
When Mr. Engelstad died of lung cancer last month, protesters thought they saw a glimmer of hope and renewed their call for a name-change. But the alumni office has been flooded with letters demanding that the name stay exactly as it is. "Since Ralph's passing, we've been overwhelmed," said Tim O'Keefe, who heads up the office. He believes that about 90% of the school's graduates feel the name is associated "with character, excellence and pride." Moreover, he thinks the issue might have died with Mr. Engelstad. The protesters "just lost their lightning rod." For the time being, at least, Mr. Engelstad's convictions will be honored.
While opponents paint all this as a case of money winning out over principle, the fact is that Mr. Engelstad not only donated the arena to the university but specified that any money it makes beyond operating expenses go to the university. Those profits finance most of the school's athletic programs and theoretically free up money for other parts of the university, like the school's Native American classes--where it is needed.
Many of the college's Native American students, says Lee Jeanotte, director of Native American Programs at North Dakota and himself a Sioux, come from reservation schools that offer only the most basic math classes and no up-to-date science labs. There is also a high turnover rate among teachers there, and, in the community, an overabundance of unemployment, alcoholism and divorce. "It's a huge challenge," Mr. Jeanotte acknowledges.
And it is one the university takes seriously. In addition to many academic programs, North Dakota offers tutoring, extensive financial aid and personal counseling to the 400 Native American students who are part of its 11,000-student population. "There's not another college nationally that can say they have that many opportunities for Native American students," Mr. Jeanotte says.
Still, that doesn't matter to the name-opponents, one of whom is Jim McKenzie, the head of the English department. "In some cities, where the Indian population is long gone, it seems like a political correctness issue," he says. "But on a campus where there are Indian students, it's offensive to them." He says that he doesn't know a single Arts and Sciences faculty member who will set foot inside Engelstad Arena.
As for the Native Americans on campus, some may be offended, but certainly not all. "There are various views, even among the American Indian students," admits Mr. Jeanotte. He himself favors changing the name. But junior goalie Marc Ranfranz, who is Sioux, doesn't mind it in the least. (Mr. Ranfranz made his first start against the Canisius Griffins on Dec. 13 and posted a 6-0 shutout.) "I hope, for myself," Mr. Ranfranz said in an interview on U.S. College Hockey Online, "that they don't change it. I honor it. I enjoy it. I think it's a great nickname and logo. It makes me feel proud when I come into the rink and see the Sioux logo all over."
Of course, for the protesters, that the logo is "all over" is precisely the problem, and Ralph Engelstad will forever be some sort of racist demon for making it so. But he may have the last laugh. He was honored two weeks ago at a game against St. Cloud State. (North Dakota won, 5-4.) During the ceremonies, there was a video montage of his life. His number was retired, and a Native American dancer, Gerimiah Holy Bull, paid tribute to him. At the end of the ceremonies, Mr. Engelstad's daughter Kris said: "May the logo and the Fighting Sioux name live on forever!"
And maybe they will, but you never know. At its annual convention next month, the NCAA plans to take up the issue of Native American mascots. The Fighting Sioux are sure to be at the top of the agenda. Well, they're getting used to being No. 1.
Mr. Yost is the automotive reporter for the Louisville Courier-Journal.
