Go, Birmingham High Whatevers, Go!

Kudos first to the El Camino Real High Conquistadores, national Academic Decathlon champions of 1998. They defeated the competition much as Cortez’s troops defeated the Aztecs--only without the bloodshed.

Congratulations also to the Granada Hills High Highlanders, who soon will compete in a stadium graced with the name of alumnus John Elway of the Denver Broncos. Opponents of hero worship were upset that a football star’s name would replace that of late educator Bryce Schurr--but don’t worry, Schurr’s legacy is being preserved in other ways.

And a salute finally to the Birmingham High Whatevers--but no, on second thought, make that the Blue Devils, because my own little exit poll indicates that is the new name preferred by students, now that Braves was officially declared mascota non grata. (This was, however, an advisory ballot, so don’t be surprised if Patriots prevails in the end.)

File today’s report under “High School Confidential,” another look through that little window on society at large. “All life is high school,” a friend of mine has observed, and I think he’s on to something.

And high schools are a favorite battlefield for culture wars. The Birmingham High Braves, bless ‘em, did not go down without a fight.

Forty-four years of tradition was ordered into mothballs last year after the school board bowed to demands by American Indian political activists to discontinue the use of American Indian symbols and mascots at schools. The Braves, the University High Warriors, the Gardena High Mohicans were all cast aside in the name of political correctness--I mean, “cultural sensitivity.”

“It’s a bummer,” said longtime Birmingham athletic director Louis Ramirez as he observed

student balloting Monday.

If a book were to be written about Ramirez, “Bury My Heart at Birmingham High” would make a fine title. A member of Birmingham’s faculty since the school was founded, Ramirez was among those who lobbied hard to preserve a tradition. Instead, the choice is narrowed to Blue Devils, Breakers, Buccaneers or Patriots.

No write-in was allowed or else Braves would have surely won in a landslide. The sentiment of the greater Birmingham High community--students, faculty and staff, parents and boosters--was that clear.

“I like Braves,” Nelson McCoy, a 17-year-old junior, told me after casting his ballot for Blue Devils. “When I came here as a freshman, it was like, ‘I’m a Brave.’ We were the B-House Braves. That was my thing: Brave at heart.”

The Scot in me was hoping they’d become the Birmingham Bravehearts--that they’d replace their profile of Chief Pontiac with Mel Gibson in blue war paint. The Choctaw in me--about 1/64th, I think--was all for the Braves. (As a teenager I wore the uniforms of the Indians and later the Saints with no moral qualms whatsoever.)

McCoy had weighed political and cultural implications of the choices. He understood that the term Blue Devils derives from a nickname given a French force in World War I and dismissed fundamentalist Christian objections. “No, no. The devil is red.”

McCoy has a hard time understanding why a word connoting the courage of Indian warriors could be perceived as some sort of disrespect. He ruefully recalled how rival Taft High poked fun by erecting a sign promoting an athletic contest: “Taft vs. the Braves, Or the Team Formerly Known As.”

Taft’s symbol is the Toreadors. How sensitive is that?

“They kill bulls,” McCoy said. “Not quickly either.”

Come to think of it, why hasn’t People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals gone after the Cal State Northridge Matadors?

Several other students told me they favored Blue Devils. “Everybody’s a rascal,” explained 15-year-old Joey Montoya.

Ramirez, the athletic director, notes that Braves was originally selected as the symbol in the ‘50s at the suggestion of student council members of American Indian heritage. Most Birmingham High faculty and students of American Indian heritage, he says, seemed to take pride in the school’s symbol, a profile of Chief Pontiac.

During “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the Birmingham crowd loudly sings the closing phrase “home of the brave.” Now the school district has allocated $175,000 to erase the Birmingham Braves’ legacy--to repaint school walls, strip the gym floor, replace uniforms.

Monday’s balloting was, nonetheless, a glorious moment for American Indian activists. But perhaps the Birmingham High Braves will themselves die a glorious death as martyrs in the modern culture wars. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but the pendulum seems to have swung back toward the center.

Consider that after their victory with the LAUSD board, the American Indian activists took on the Arcadia High Apaches--and lost. The Arcadia school board wisely passed the buck to the student council, which researched the issued, learned a lot about the Apaches, and decided to keep the name. Stronger resistance to change could be expected in other smaller districts.

And consider that, earlier this month, the L.A. School Board, reacting to Proposition 209, voted to disband seven commissions established to address the interests of Mexican Americans, African Americans, Asian Americans and Native Americans, as well as gender-equity issues, special education and gay and lesbian issues.

A panel for Armenian American interests was being formed when the school board decided that a unified Human Relations Commission would be preferable--something that would, ideally, focus on the special needs of, you know, human beings.

Not that identity politics will magically disappear. Birds of a feather and all that. That’s no less true than the maxim that all life is high school.

So cheer now for the Blue Devils, but only briefly. I could be wrong, but I left the campus with the distinct impression that, rather than invite a fight with Christian fundamentalists, Birmingham High may ultimately opt for the name Patriots. The campus, after all, occupied an old Army hospital where thousands of World War II veterans were treated and many died.

Teenagers today have a different frame of reference. “We can say, ‘We’ll destroy you like a Patriot missile,’ ” said Nelson McCoy, still a Brave at heart.

This has possibilities. The Birmingham Patriots could call all their opponents Scuds.

But what if Saddam Hussein objects?

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times’ Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com Please include a phone number.