Fernando: Fighting the Brave Fight

Poor Fernando.

There he stands in the Van Nuys Civic Center, naked except for a loincloth, so tall and muscular and imposing--a natural for the World Wrestling Federation, if only he’d come to life. Fernando, of course, is the statue of an American Indian that San Fernando Valley boosters erected many moons ago as a symbol of the Valley’s first residents and a totem of community pride.

From the start Fernando had it rough. Snobs sniffed about his artistic merit. Scholars noted that real Fernandenos weren’t nearly 7 feet tall. The elements and birds did their damage. For years he was pretty much ignored, until the Fernando Award Inc. crowd--which technically owns the statue and could have been taking care of him all along--decided to move him to the upscale domain of Warner Center. The people of Van Nuys, properly outraged, warded off the would-be statue-nappers.

And now Fernando finds himself in the news again. “I’M NOT A MASCOT,” declared a sign placed over Fernando’s, um, loincloth. A group of American Indian activists adorned him with this defiant message to emphasize their outrage over a lawsuit filed last week by some Birmingham High alumni seeking to halt the pending political execution of the Braves, Birmingham’s symbol for 44 years.

If only Fernando could speak for himself. . . .

*

“Glad you asked. It so happens that I’ve been studying these multicultural conflicts for many years now. As a representation of the American Indian and the Valley, I’m well positioned to comment.

“The sign is right: I’m not a mascot. But you know what? I’m no American Indian or Native American or whatever the preferred term is either. I’m no Chumash or Fernandeno. I’m no brave or warrior or whatever it is people see in me. What I am is a statue of an American Indian.

“To be more precise, you could say I’m some 20th century white guy’s fantasy of a 19th century noble savage, if you’ll pardon the expression. I’m not based on somebody real like Crazy Horse or Geronimo. I’m based on an idea--an ideal. One advantage of being a statue is I can keep emotions out of this.

“There’s no question the sculptor and people who commissioned me meant well. It was an honor being created. And it was an honor that these American Indians ticked about the Birmingham Braves would put a protest sign on me. I mean, to use me like that, they must think I look pretty noble, right?

“The truth is, I’m not completely enamored of either side. I’m sure there was nothing but good intentions when Birmingham High became the Braves way back before I was cast. But we all know what the road to hell is paved with.

“Yes, the American Indians today--not all, but many--find the whole symbol business patronizing, insulting. That’s why they always use the word “mascot.”

“They say, ‘Look, your ancestors committed genocidal war and stole our land--and now you say you’re honoring us? You think that using us as nicknames and mascots and by doing tomahawk chops you’re paying tribute? What is this, some sort of perverse display of white guilt about the massacres and broken treaties and poverty on the reservation?’

“No question they’ve got a point. When that group was trying to move me to Warner Center, they were portrayed as ‘Indian givers.’ Now there’s an interesting slur. Does anybody really think the white man was fair?

*

“And so now the trail of tears leads the American Indians to Birmingham High. And so they beat victory drums after the school board voted to decommission the Braves, Warriors and Mohicans. They point out there are no schools that use blacks or Jews as mascots. They say it’s dehumanizing, since so many teams are named after animals. They’d been fighting this battle for years--since around the time Stanford dropped the Indians for the Cardinal. Another rare victory over the white man.

“Well, not just the white man. Actually Birmingham’s students and staff are more Latino than white these days, plus blacks, Asians and some American Indians. Most seem pretty unhappy with the board dumping on a symbol of school pride and courage.

“They say there’s nothing inherently derogatory about the word “braves.” And they’re right. They say their warrior symbol isn’t a cartoon. And they’re right. They point out that, all over North America, plenty of ethnic groups, both recent and historic, serve as team symbols. The Fighting Irish, the Celtics, Highlanders, whatever.

“So many people at Birmingham don’t understand where the American Indians are coming from at all. They didn’t exactly foster good will by booing and hissing Birmingham supporters at the school board meeting. They pushed--and so the Birmingham boosters are pushing back.

“So give the ‘Save the Braves’ movement credit. I, Fernando, salute them. As the great poet said, ‘Be true to your school.’

“It’s a shame, though, that it’s come to litigation. Pretty clever how they argue that words “warriors” and “braves” don’t necessarily suggest American Indians. Certainly that’s true for warriors. Braves is more of a stretch. Certainly they’re right to argue the words and images aren’t, as the lawsuit says, ‘inherently demeaning.’

“But my guess is the lawsuit will fail. I’m no lawyer, but I’ve been hanging around this courthouse for many years now. I figure the board can do what it wants to do.

“They’re the ones who screwed up. They weren’t as smart as the Arcadia school board. When the activists came to protest the Arcadia High Apaches, the board decided to leave it up to the Arcadia student body to make the decision. What a fine learning experience about modern multicultural politics.

“So the activists lobbied the student council. The students weighed the pros and cons. They studied the Apache. They issued a report describing how they were impressed to learn that Geronimo’s people weren’t just able warriors, but that they honored the values of hard work, self-respect and the family. Yes, the Arcadia High students were impressed.

“And that, they said, is why they’ll keep on cheering for the Arcadia Apaches.”

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