I grew up in Maryland, only 10 mins outside of Washington, DC. I hated football season.
My mom (Native/black) and I were from Philly. My mom was always so angry and disgusted abt the name R*dsk*ns. My stepdad (black) was DC born and bred and an avid fan of the Washington team.
My mom (Native/black) and I were from Philly. My mom was always so angry and disgusted abt the name R*dsk*ns. My stepdad (black) was DC born and bred and an avid fan of the Washington team.
I never understood how my stepdad& #39;s family could not see the name was wrong. That if there was a team called "The Negroes" or "Mandingos" "Pickinninies", hell even the "The Ni**ers" they would be furious and horrified. Every year, this debate and I was left sad, angry, powerless.
In my home, there was no Rword paraphernalia. Even my stepdad who rooted for them understood it was inappropriate.
But everywhere else was like a constant assault. Rolls of fury, disgust, frustration, emptiness. It feels like you are screaming but all that comes out is silence.
But everywhere else was like a constant assault. Rolls of fury, disgust, frustration, emptiness. It feels like you are screaming but all that comes out is silence.
I went to protests outside of stadiums, even one attended by Dick Gregory. Got into heated arguments w people, white & black. I explained over and over there is no "honor" in mascots. I wrote on a show w a storyline that the name was changed.
Still, football season would come.
Still, football season would come.
I& #39;d tell people stories of friends/relatives called R-word by racists in reservation border towns. Show them in print where it was used to talk abt "drunk Indians" and other stereotypes. I& #39;d show the historic ads offering bounty money for r*dsk*ns - proof of a kill.
Deaf ears.
Deaf ears.