When I served as a principal, our team mascot was the “Ambassador.” Living inside the Washington D.C. Beltway, an ambassador was traditionally a delegate from a foreign nation residing here to support their citizens. In our context—a Christian school—the theological logic was that we are “not of this world,” serving as foreign dignitaries to an unbelieving culture.

It was a noble sentiment. However, in practice? When the cheerleaders chanted, “Go, Ambassadors, go!”, the gym’s acoustics transformed it into a rhythmic “Go, bastards, go!”—a refrain that garnered more than a few chuckles from our competitors and plenty of headaches for me.

The No-Win Scenario

I eventually launched a campaign to rename the mascot, a move met with the kind of fury usually reserved for parents disputing a call at a Little League soccer match. My suggestions didn’t fare much better:

• Wombats: Rejected for not being “aggressive” enough.
• Whales: Immediately flagged as a potential commentary on the weight of female athletes.

It truly felt like a no-win situation.

The Shift Toward Cultural Sensitivity

In recent years, a massive trend has swept the nation to rename sports teams to avoid the exploitation of cultures. High-profile shifts include the Washington Commanders (formerly the Redskins) and the Cleveland Guardians (formerly the Indians). This movement aims to eradicate cultural appropriation—the exploitation of another culture’s religious traditions, dance steps, fashion, symbols, or music.

Closer to home, Venice High School faced a reckoning in 2022. Disney actually banned the school’s marching band from performing at Walt Disney World because their logo depicted a Native American in a headdress. Rather than change the logo under pressure, the school pulled out of the performance.

The rationale behind these changes often stems from the historical baggage these names carry. Depending on who you ask, almost any mascot can be viewed through a lens of “anti-culture” or “pro-imperialism”:

• Conquistadors/Knights/49ers: Often viewed as symbols of imperialism or colonial conquest.
• Spartans/Trojans/Gladiators: Can be seen as reducing ancient European cultures to mere caricatures of violence.
• Crusaders: Widely considered one of the most inflammatory names due to the brutal history of the religious wars.
• Rebels: Long associated with the Confederacy and systemic racism.

A Florida History Lesson

Today, especially here in Florida, the Native American legacy is powerful. On a recent road trip along the northern edge of the Everglades, I found myself on the Miccosukee Indian Reservation.

The Miccosukee were originally part of the Upper Creek Federation, but they separated themselves to maintain their distinct language and traditions, eventually migrating to Florida in the 18th century. Though much smaller than the Seminole Tribe of Florida, they are a resilient, federally recognized sovereign nation with their own unique culture and governance.

Interestingly, while many “Indian” mascots are being erased, the name “Seminole” remains prominent, notably at the Seminole Hard Rock Casino. This is generally not considered cultural appropriation because the Seminole Tribe maintains an active, symbiotic partnership with institutions (like Florida State University), ensuring the name is used with permission and respect rather than as a stolen caricature.

The Heart of the Identity

Shakespeare famously quipped, “What’s in a name?” suggesting that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. He argued that names are arbitrary labels that don’t define an object’s true essence.

However, beyond the literal interpretation, names carry profound historical weight. Perhaps the real intent behind calling a team the “Indians” wasn’t to mock, but to honor the amazing legacy of the people who fought against the imperial onslaught of the 19th century. By adopting these names, schools often seek to channel the perceived bravery, resilience, and tactical brilliance of warriors who defended their land against impossible odds.

The question we face today is whether we can truly “honor” a culture by using its likeness as a costume, or if true honor requires stepping back and letting those cultures define their own legacy. As I learned back in my “Ambassador” days—sometimes, no matter how good your intentions are, what the crowd hears is something else entirely.