Stop and listen to the words _ they aren't very pretty

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

People seldom mean these things. They don't see the harm in them. They are just words, expressions; in some cases, traditions.

For example: Once upon a time on the Massachusetts Turnpike, the little Pilgrim, which is embossed on Turnpike signs, had an arrow going through its hat. It wasn't until American Indians objected - as well they should have - that thepeople who approved the sign actually saw how demeaning and how stereotypical this image was.

Twenty years ago, Stanford University dropped the nickname "Indians." Then Dartmouth College retired its Indian symbol. In 1989, the Minnesota Board of Education asked high schools to drop Indian nicknames.

Now the spotlight is on professional teams with Indian names. It might seem pretty trivial, making a fuss over what teams are called when the world has far bigger problems. What's the big deal, after all, about the Atlanta Braves, the Washington Redskins and the Cleveland Indians?

It isn't any big deal unless you happen to be an Indian.

Then it becomes a big deal when you're sitting at home watching the Super Bowl and all of a sudden 50,000 people are doing the "tomahawk chop."

Is this just a harmless joke? Maybe it is a joke, but it isn't harmless. It's a joke that says the Indian is a savage. It's a joke that reinforces a myth.

To the credit of Oregon's largest newspaper, the Oregonian has become the first newspaper in the nation to stop printing the names of sports teams with Indian names.

"We do not expect the rest of the journalistic world to fall into line behind us," said Managing Editor Peter Thompson. "nor do we presume that our action will change any team names."

But you never know. Although the public's knee-jerk reaction to all this is to say it's nonsense - to insist that the names are not derogatory, that they're just names - if you think about it ...

When I was a child, I called black, sugar-coated penny candies that were shaped like people "nigger babies." That was their name. I remember going into the 5 and 10 and asking for them.

What I don't remember is when I realized what I was saying. I'd never heard the word "nigger" alone. I didn't know it referred to people. It was candy, like Fireballs and Mint Juleps and Mary Janes. But somewhere along the line, I figured it out. And then there was this dawning realization that I had been saying something horrible, something despicable.

Listen to the words we use. Hear them. Think about them.

Walpole's football team is called the Rebels. All their sports teams are called Rebels, except for field hockey.

A few years ago, the school was asked not to fly the Confederate Flag and not to play Dixie anymore because of what the flag and Dixie implied.

But because it was a school tradition totally divorced from the real Rebels and the real implications of the Confederate flag, some people objected. They didn't see the harm in the tradition because the only tradition the flag and the song carried for them was the Walpole tradition. But that's not the point. The point is that the Confederate flag and the song Dixie were the symbols of slavery. Imagine, being black and having to honor the Confederate flag? The people in Walpole, to their credit, imagined, and the flag is no longer flown, the song no longer sung.

Words, you see, CAN hurt. In the library there's a thesaurus of euphemisms, a book full of nice ways to say bad things. But there isn't a book of offensivisms, of demeaning language that we don't even recognize as demeaning: He jewed someone down. She welshed on the deal. He's a flatfoot.

Here comes the Paddywagon. They're at a hen party. She's a J.A.P. He's a savage.

Listen to these words. HEAR them. And chances are, you'll never say them again.