"Wild at Heart" (+) Harper’s Bazaar, October 2013 photographer: Alexi Lubomirski Gabriela Perezutti

"Wild at Heart" (+)
Harper’s Bazaar, October 2013 
photographer: Alexi Lubomirski
Gabriela Perezutti

"Wild at Heart" (+) Harper’s Bazaar, October 2013 photographer: Alexi Lubomirski Gabriela Perezutti

"Wild at Heart" (+)
Harper’s Bazaar, October 2013 
photographer: Alexi Lubomirski
Gabriela Perezutti

As a sportswriter, I’ve typed and said the word “Redskins” thousands of times. It has been a part of my job. Each and every one of those times, I have never meant or intended anything offensive. To the contrary, I always have been referring to a particular group of contractually obligated football players. Not Native Americans in general. Definitely not a particular Native American. (Well, unless someone on the roster or working in the team’s front office happened to be ethnically Native American, in which case, the reference was totally inadvertent on my part). Until recently, I can’t say I ever even thought about Native Americans while using the moniker.

And that, more than anything, is the problem.

This is what we think about indigenous people in the United States of America: We don’t. Not really. Not beyond the occasional old Western movie, or maybe enjoying the work of Sherman Alexie. Native Americans were colonized, slaughtered, forcibly assimilated, herded onto permanent internment camps and largely wiped out before most of us were born, a kind of ethnic cleansing and ongoing American apartheid that mostly is ignored in our pop culture and largely left out of our history books.

…The word “Redskin” is an obvious, self-evident racial slur. It fails the Full Room test, as in: would you walk into a room full of Native Americans and yell, “Wassup, Redskins?” Of course not. And that makes it wrong—wrong and embarrassing, really—as a team nickname. Still, I’m not surprised that 79 percent of Americans don’t see things that way, don’t see the nickname as offensive, don’t feel ashamed and offended out of their own senses of dignity, respect and sheer, basic kindness when using it. They don’t think twice, because they’re thinking about football and touchdowns and merchandise and the Dallas Cowboys game. They’re not thinking about the living, breathing people who are hurt by “Redskins,” or what widespread acceptance of the nickname says about our collective historical and cultural amnesia, our eager forgetting of the nation’s sins.

Patrick Hruby, A Name Change for the Redskins: Unpopular, Insufficient, and Necessary - Sports Roundtable - The Atlantic

"Le Sphinx" (+) Numéro #147, October 2013 photographer: Anthony Maule Katlin Aas

"Le Sphinx" (+)
Numéro #147, October 2013 
photographer: Anthony Maule
Katlin Aas

"Le Sphinx" (+) Numéro #147, October 2013 photographer: Anthony Maule Katlin Aas

"Le Sphinx" (+)
Numéro #147, October 2013 
photographer: Anthony Maule
Katlin Aas

"Le Sphinx" (+) Numéro #147, October 2013 photographer: Anthony Maule Katlin Aas

"Le Sphinx" (+)
Numéro #147, October 2013 
photographer: Anthony Maule
Katlin Aas

Who shot this?
// aarjhen:abiyardley

Who shot this?

// aarjhen:abiyardley

(Source: ayeabigail)

reblogged via aarjhen

JMSN - Love & Pain

Gap, Back to Blue campaign (+) photographer: Tyrone Lebon

Gap, Back to Blue campaign (+)
photographer: Tyrone Lebon

illustration by Victo Ngai accompanying a story about death and ritual in India
“We Didn’t Like Him" by Akhil Sharma The New Yorker, June 3, 2013
// victongai

illustration by Victo Ngai accompanying a story about death and ritual in India

We Didn’t Like Him" by Akhil Sharma
The New Yorker, June 3, 2013

// victongai

reblogged via victongai

This 1994 Baltimore Sun story is still relevant, nearly 20 years later, as support grows for the Washington Redskins football team to change its name. I had never heard of the situation in Pekin, Illinois, before, but it has some similarities:

In July 1974, I went to the small town of Pekin, Ill., with a group of Chinese-Americans from Chicago who were offended by the name of Pekin’s high school football team.

Pekin, named for the Chinese city of Peking, called its team the “Chinks.”

The students at Pekin High told the visitors that they loved their Chinks and that to them it was a name of honor and respect and no harm was intended.

The Chinese-Americans argued that regardless of how it was intended, the name was degrading and racist and should be changed. (» more)

Additional reading from the Washington Post:

At the start of every basketball game, a Chink and Chinklette — that is, a boy and girl dressed in Chinese attire — would walk into the center of the court and bow. (» more)

…and from the Chicago Tribune:

A decade after Peggy Vogelsinger was named the 1963 Pekin High School Chinklette of the Year, she noticed a disturbing headline on the front page of the Detroit Free Press. Her high school`s team nickname, the Chink, was deemed racist.

"I remember thinking that wasn`t how we felt at all," said Vogelsinger, a 1963 Pekin graduate who is now a youth minister in Mequon, Wis. "To be the Chinklette and dress in Chinese regalia before basketball games was a great honor. It was a symbol of the spirit." (» more)