- Details
- By Levi Rickert
Opinion. Several years ago, I attended a tribal council meeting of the Oglala Sioux Tribe on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Before the meeting began, council members shared devastating news: Two teens from the reservation had died by suicide the night before. The grief was palpable. The meeting was canceled so members could support the grieving families.
That moment has stayed with me and crystallized the crisis facing our communities. Currently, American Indian and Alaska Native youth and young adults — particularly those aged 10 to 34 — face suicide rates that significantly exceed the national average. Suicide remains one of the leading causes of death for Native youth.
Multiple factors drive these rates: addiction, poverty, and mental health disparities. But one overlooked contributor is the damage caused by Native American mascots, which research shows lower self-esteem among Native youth.
Stephanie Fryberg (Tulalip Tribes) is a professor at Northwestern University. She has dedicated years to researching the psychological impact of Native stereotypes and imagery—particularly sports mascots—on both Native and non-Native populations. She’s seen firsthand the harm these representations cause.
Her research reveals that exposure to Native sports mascots significantly harms Native American youth. It lowers their self-esteem, reduces their academic and personal aspirations, and weakens their sense of community value and hope for the future. Other studies further underscore these findings, linking Native mascots to increased rates of depression and suicidal thoughts among Native Americans.
“Being shown the mascot actually lowered Native high schoolers’ self-esteem more than giving them negative statistics about [Native American communities], like high suicide rates, depression, dropout rates,” Fryberg told Politico in 2020. “That really gives you a sense of how powerful the imagery is.”
In April 2023, the state of New York made a bold and necessary decision: it banned public schools from using Native American names, logos, and imagery as mascots. Some called it overreach, others said it erased tradition. They miss the point.
Growing up seeing your people caricatured on football helmets teaches Native children they are relics of the past, not human beings with dignity and sovereign identities. When Native youth walk into schools where the mascot is a red-faced warrior, they aren't being honored — they're being diminished.
Recently, the mascot issue has gained national attention because President Trump became involved when a local school board on Long Island petitioned him to intervene in its fight against the state of New York to keep its “Chief” logo. He turned the matter over to the U.S. Department of Education Secretary Linda McMahon.
In a decision with sweeping national implications, the Education Department ruled that New York’s ban on Native American-themed school mascots violates federal civil rights law.
The State of New York is holding its ground. New York’s decision sends a message — not just to Native children, but to all children — that Indigenous people are not stereotypes. We are not mascots. We are nations. And our sovereignty, our cultures, and our stories deserve respect — not mockery from the bleachers.
The opposition to this ban often hides behind the word “local control.” I understand that argument. But there is a moral line that transcends district boundaries. If a local tradition perpetuates racism — whether intentional or not — it’s not a tradition worth preserving. When a state steps in to ensure respect and equity for marginalized people, that’s not tyranny. That’s justice.
So yes, I stand with the state of New York. Because ending Native mascots is not political correctness — it’s human decency. And it’s time we all did the decent thing.
People sometimes ask whether Native Americans have more pressing issues to address than Indian sports mascots. Considering the alarming rates of youth suicide in Native communities — closely linked to low self-esteem — I believe we must confront every contributing factor. Stereotypical mascots are one of them, and eliminating these harmful representations is a necessary step toward healing and prevention.
Thayék gde nwéndëmen - We are all related.
More Stories Like This
Modernizing the Path to Homeownership in Indian CountryThe Future is Bright for Cherokee Nation Health Services at Claremore
National Guard and Its Two Heads
The Juneteenth National Holiday is a Time to Remember
Help us tell the stories that could save Native languages and food traditions
At a critical moment for Indian Country, Native News Online is embarking on our most ambitious reporting project yet: "Cultivating Culture," a three-year investigation into two forces shaping Native community survival—food sovereignty and language revitalization.
The devastating impact of COVID-19 accelerated the loss of Native elders and with them, irreplaceable cultural knowledge. Yet across tribal communities, innovative leaders are fighting back, reclaiming traditional food systems and breathing new life into Native languages. These aren't just cultural preservation efforts—they're powerful pathways to community health, healing, and resilience.
Our dedicated reporting team will spend three years documenting these stories through on-the-ground reporting in 18 tribal communities, producing over 200 in-depth stories, 18 podcast episodes, and multimedia content that amplifies Indigenous voices. We'll show policymakers, funders, and allies how cultural restoration directly impacts physical and mental wellness while celebrating successful models of sovereignty and self-determination.
This isn't corporate media parachuting into Indian Country for a quick story. This is sustained, relationship-based journalism by Native reporters who understand these communities. It's "Warrior Journalism"—fearless reporting that serves the 5.5 million readers who depend on us for news that mainstream media often ignores.
We need your help right now. While we've secured partial funding, we're still $450,000 short of our three-year budget. Our immediate goal is $25,000 this month to keep this critical work moving forward—funding reporter salaries, travel to remote communities, photography, and the deep reporting these stories deserve.
Every dollar directly supports Indigenous journalists telling Indigenous stories. Whether it's $5 or $50, your contribution ensures these vital narratives of resilience, innovation, and hope don't disappear into silence.
The stakes couldn't be higher. Native languages are being lost at an alarming rate. Food insecurity plagues many tribal communities. But solutions are emerging, and these stories need to be told.
Support independent Native journalism. Fund the stories that matter.
Levi Rickert (Potawatomi), Editor & Publisher
