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Chief will be gone from UI of the future
By STEPHEN KAUFMAN
By 2100, Chief Illiniwek will have long been gone.
Retired so long ago that there may be little to recall
as the calendar turns to 2100. But let's try, on this New Year's
Day 2100, as we walk the Urbana-Champaign campus.
As time often does, names and dates have largely been
forgotten, but one place stands as a reminder. There it is, Rosenstein Hall,
home of the School of Visual Arts, built in 2024, through the generous gift
of Jay Rosenstein, successful filmmaker and UI alumnus.
Rosenstein's first documentary – "In Whose
Honor?" – launched his career, and brought national disgrace to
the university, as it aptly depicted the shameful use of Native Americans
as sports mascots.
As we approach, we see a quiet courtyard off to the right
and a bronze statue of a woman. There is a tour of prospective students,
their parents and a student guide. We join them as the guide reads the plaque
beneath the sculpture, "In honor of Charlene Teters, for courage and
leadership."
"Who is she?" the future students ask.
"She's the Indian student who first told the
university to get rid of their mascot," the guide replied, and added,
"and boy, did she catch hell from those sports fans. They jeered her,
spit on her and, oh yes, told her their Chief Illiniwek was honoring her."
We followed the guide inside. There in the entry was a
huge photograph of Teters, standing alone in front of the stadium, holding
a handmade sign reading, "Indians are People, Not Mascots."
"So they got rid of the Chief, right?" questioned the student-to-be.
"After a while; it took more than 10 years,"
replied the guide, a bit embarrassed.
"Ten years! What took so long?" asked another
student.
"Let's go into the next room; perhaps the answer is there."
And they went into a round, darkened kiva-like room, with great 3-D photos illuminated on the walls. And the guide proceeded to explain each.
Pointing to the first, he said, "Here's the UI Board of Trustees. They were mainly business people who were appointed by the governor. They used to run the university back then, and for the longest time they refused to discuss the Chief."
"Looks like a pretty stuffy bunch to me," said one of the students-to-be.
"Worse," replied the guide. "That's why we don't have a board anymore."
"Who are all those white guys in suits in that next
picture?" asked another student-to-be.
"Students often referred to them as the Fearful Five," said the guide. "The big heavy guy, that was the governor. He was a big fan of the Chief. It's said that he threatened to fire the chancellor if he got rid of the Chief. The tall guy, I don't recall his name, he was president then. He wanted to move the university to Chicago and was more concerned with potential donors than with his faculty, or the education of the students, or the integrity of the university. And the short chubby guy, he was chancellor.
"The other two are the chair of the board of trustees and a local politician. . . . It's not clear what they were afraid of, but they certainly weren't leaders."
"Is this place still run that way now?" asked one of the parents, seemingly quite concerned.
"No, thank heavens no," replied the guide. "All that changed when Roberta Lopez was made president of the University. She really turned things around. Got rid of the corporate mentality that had led the university into so much disrepute as an educational institution. She led this place back into focusing on education."
In the next photo, taken at the ceremony retiring the Chief, were eight determined women, all in red T-shirts with a logo that read, "Racist Mascots Dehumanize."
The guide explained, "These were the people who really made the difference. Debbie, a Native American, graduate student and mother, believed in the ethic that authentic education can make a difference. She wanted her people to be known for who they are, rather than as contrived storybook images.
"Paula, a Ph.D. scientist, organized alumni to speak out against the Chief. She also went on to organize access to health care for Native Americans.
"Rose was an undergraduate then, a great organizer and spokesperson. You may have heard of her; she became secretary of Health and Human Services.
"Carol taught writing in the English Department and chronicled the whole thing. I understand the U of I Press was ordered not to publish her book. It was published elsewhere, and received several national book awards.
"The tall woman, Brenda, was one of the bravest. As an untenured assistant professor then, she rallied her colleagues to convince the university administration that the Chief was an educational issue. It's not clear why they resisted that so.
"The white-haired woman, Heidi, was a music professor. She was one tough lady. She fought the administration's opposition to discussing the Chief and brought the issue to the campus senate, where they voted overwhelmingly to retire him.
"And there was Penny, a teacher in the Urbana public schools, who ensured that the next generation would have a clearer understanding of the value of all individuals.
"And last, Brooke, an athlete-turned-activist, was an undergraduate then. She made sure the administration knew the issue would not go away.
"And there is Michael Haney, the tallest American Indian you've ever seen. He was always there, with stories and humor, challenging students to be involved, challenging the university administration to resurrect decency, and reminding them of their obligation to teach the truth about Native Americans."
"What's that in the next photo?" questioned one parent.
"That's the final anti-Chief rally on campus. It shut down the administration building for two days and coincided with a massive teach-in. It was quite orderly and no one was hurt, but the administration was certainly rocked. They thought the two faculty in the next photo had organized it and tried to have them arrested for sedition. I think one was a law professor, and the other taught biology.
"And there's a photo of the retirement ceremony of the Chief. The ceremonial headdresses that the university had were also returned to their tribes on that same day."
"Well, what really made them get rid of the Chief?" asked the student-to-be, getting a little impatient.
"It's hard to say. Some folks think it was pressure from an accreditation review; some felt it was the bad national press the university was getting; others say it was the deathbed request of a remorseful chancellor. How it was finally decided really doesn't matter."
And here's the last panel. It's not a photo, but a list of names of university vice presidents, deans and directors, associate chancellors, faculty and staff, student athletes and coaches.
"After the Chief was retired, these people 'came
out' and admitted they couldn't speak out against the Chief earlier
because of the threat of administrative reprisal.
"Well, it's 2100, a new century, and that embarrassing period in UI history seems as incomprehensible as the old archive films of hate-filled jeering crowds obstructing civil rights marches, of police arresting people at lunch counters, of federal marshals confronting misguided governors and university presidents opposing the integration of schools in the South, and the taunting racism imbued in flying the Confederate flag. It was a dark period in UI history, but that was a long, long time ago."
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issues raised in this article. Please send your comments to: Editor, The
News-Gazette, 15 Main St., P.O. Box 677, Champaign, IL 61824-0677. Send
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