ne crisp fall afternoon this past September, members of the Dartmouth Review found themselves in an unusually advantageous situation. The campus teemed with the curious and untainted naiveté of freshmen, who were largely unaware of the decades of controversy surrounding the Indian as a Dartmouth symbol and mascot. Zealous members of the Review were happy to call attention to the once honored sacred symbol of bravery and heroic courage by generously bestowing upon the class of 2010 T-shirts engraved with the image of an Indian brave, clad in illustrious feathers and hooped earrings, free of charge. All of this in the name of “tradition.”

Where, you might ask, did this so-called tradition come from? More knowledgeable upperclassmen or alumni might be able to inform you that our dear old tradition of portraying the Indian as a glowing representation of fortitude and uncontested valor rests on the long and twisted, yet glorious words of…a sports writer. Yes, the Indian mascot, and the great controversy it has caused, had its humble beginnings in a journalist’s allegorical term for the Dartmouth football team.

Note that The Oxford Dictionary defines the word “tradition” as “a belief or custom handed down from one generation to another; a long-established procedure.” We can hardly call the Indian mascot a tradition when it was added to sports uniforms fewer than ten years before it was abolished in’69; a point that has been subtly ignored by the crusaders of the Review.

Of course, it might be argued that the image of the Indian precedes this unfortunate sports analogy. Many ’10s may know that Eleazar Wheelock (rewarded for his achievements by having his name attached to the “nerdy dorm”), founded Dartmouth College in 1769. Wheelock’s intention was to expand Moor’s Indian Charity School of Connecticut, and create an institution where the “savages” could be Christianized, civilized, and taught to live like normal people (Teepees? Come on). After soliciting funds from Native American preacher Samson Occom and Lord Dartmouth, Eazy E Wheelock founded Dartmouth College—where, over its first two centuries in existence, fewer than 100 American Indians actually enrolled. After hustling Lord Dartmouth, Wheelock figured he could mend their relationship by naming the college after him. Poor Sam Occom got a pond.

Although Wheelock claimed that his purpose in building Dartmouth was to educate Indians, Native Americans have played a minor part in Dartmouth’s history (and certainly have not wielded the kind of substantial influence enjoyed by the real-life referent of Keggy the Keg). Despite this evidence to the contrary, we are willing to imagine that the Indian mascot could be considered tradition. But should tradition should be placed above guiding moral principles? Before the Civil War, owning slaves in the South had certainly become a tradition, but that didn’t make it right. Some argue that this “symbol” is flattering, a sort of tribute, to the 500 or so American Indians who have graduated since’70. However, if we look at the reality of the situation, did the NADs (Native Americans at Dartmouth) show their utter appreciation by cheering in front of the offices of the Dartmouth Review a few weeks ago or did they protest what they deemed distasteful and offensive to them?

The Dartmouth Review champion the mascot as a noble indicator of Dartmouth’s prestige and athletic prowess, but a jaunt into Hanover’s paraphernalia past would reveal a more trivial image. If members of the Review could hop into a time machine and travel back a few decades, they could return triumphantly bearing a coffee mug depicting an Indian wrapped in only a loin cloth as he perilously barrels down a ski slope holding on to a beer mug for dear life. (Note: this actually was something you could find around campus at the time.) Or, they could bring back photographs of various Hanover businesses loyal to the magnificent Indian symbol, such as the Chieftain Motel, the Mascoma Savings Bank, and the Hanover Dry Cleaners, so we could all see the proper stages for depicting the fierce Indian warrior on the eve of battle—against vicious chocolate stains. Surely, these are flattering depictions.

Clearly, the iconic image of the fighting brave must return in honor to Dartmouth to grace the places Dartmouth students go to do their laundry. As we pop our quarters into the dryer in some cold and damp basement, hoping our clothes don’t get thrown out by some angry floor mate, simply looking up at a picture of a goofily smiling Indian would allow us to endure the frustration of wet clothing strewn across a soiled floor.

Seriously, what is more helpful for alleviating boredom during lecture than a wonderful caricature of a drunken Indian on your coffee mug? Oh wily drunken Indian, how you lighten our days with your unending debauchery and poor skiing skills. Thank God for Dartmouth tradition. No, better yet, thank you Samson Occom, for raising funds for an institution that would ignore you and your people for the next two centuries, but whose student body would later honor you with ridiculous depictions of your race’s ignorant, yet quite amusing lifestyle.

If we opt not to use the Indian as our source of unofficial unity, what could possibly become Dartmouth’s next mascot? Perhaps we could change the mascot to the “Jew.” During halftime at sporting events, an elderly man with a bushy beard, long locks, and a black hat could run around screaming loudly in Hebrew! Or maybe our next mascot could be the Dartmouth “African,” caricaturized with big lips and nappy hair. How could anyone be offended by these innocent portrayals?

Right. So, really, will we be able to return to the glorious image of our brave Indian? No, we must live without the days of racial prejudice and cultural ignorance thanks to John Kemeny. Thanks John, for turning your back on our great Indian mascot, and reviving a focus on educating Native Americans once you became president of the college in the early’70s. Wasn’t it enough, Mr. Kemeny, that our great institution managed to enroll almost 30 Native American students during the entirety of the’th century, and saw the graduation of a portion of that number?

We demand the return of ignorance. We demand more cultural ineptitude. Bring back to us our sacred Indian caricature—because Indians are, well, err, tradition.