KANSAS CITY, Mo. — The evening was winding down at Rieger, an upscale casual restaurant in Kansas City, and a few Denver Broncos fans who were in town for a game last month were standing at the bar, engaging in friendly bickering with the fans. from hometown Chefs.
At one point, Broncos fans walked through the dining room. It is then that a Chefs The fan responded with a gesture as synonymous with the team as its red jerseys: He sliced his hand in the air in a slashing motion while bellowing a rhythmic chant.
Slowly but surely, most of the 50 or so diners dropped their cutlery, turned to the rivals and joined in, cutting the air in unison and singing in a soaring chorus that filled the restaurant.
This city’s beloved soccer team has left an undeniable mark on local culture, whether it’s the tradition of wearing red on Fridays before games or the custom of changing the final phrase of the national anthem in “and the home of the Chiefs” before the game kicks off. Arrowhead Stadium.
But perhaps the most indelible symbol of Chiefs fandom is the one that unifies believers and divides others: the tomahawk chop.
Now that the Chiefs are on one of sports’ biggest stages, playing in the Super Bowl for the first time in 50 years, the tradition is getting new scrutiny.
For many fans, the chop and the accompanying chant – a pantomimed tomahawk swing and invented battle cry, also used by fans of the Atlanta Braves, Florida State Seminoles and English rugby team Exeter Chiefs – are a way of showing solidarity with their team and intimidating the opposition. But for many Native Americans – local and far away – and others, the act is a disrespectful gesture that perpetuates negative stereotypes about the country’s first inhabitants and embarrasses a city that considers itself a center of culture and innovation in the Midwest.
“It doesn’t show KC pride,” said Howard Hanna, chef and owner of The Rieger, describing his dismay as the impromptu chop unfolded in his restaurant. “It makes us look stupid.”
The Chiefs have largely escaped the hottest embers of the national debate over mascots and Native American images in sports. Their name doesn’t conjure up an insult like the Washington Redskins, and their mascot isn’t a red-faced caricature like Chief Wahoo, the logo that the The Cleveland Indians began phasing out two years ago.
The organization has worked with Native Americans over the past six years to reconsider and reform some of its traditions. This dialogue has led the team to discourage fans from dressing in Indian regalia and to ask broadcasters to refrain from catering to those who disregard the request. The team makes informative announcements about Native American history and tradition during some games, and a group of Native people distributes literature at the stadium. The team sometimes invites natives to bless the drums that are ceremonially beaten before games.
The Chiefs, however, were reluctant to stop their fans from getting the job done.
“The Arrowhead Chop is part of the game day experience that is really important to our fans,” team president Mark Donovan said recently. told the Kansas City Star.
Team officials did not respond to specific questions about the chop, but said in a statement to the New York Times that they work with Native Americans “to raise awareness and understanding, as well as celebrate the rich traditions of several tribes with a historical connection. in our region. »
In interviews this week, several players praised the tomahawk chop and chant for pumping them up.
“I love it,” Chiefs safety Jordan Lucas said. Asked about his concerns that it would be offensive, he said: “I can’t even talk about it, because I had nothing to do with it and I don’t know anything about it. »
Chiefs fans began playing in the early 1990s, encouraged by then-head coach Marty Schottenheimer, who was inspired by a performance by the Northwest Missouri State band, led at the time by a State alumnus from Florida. The move is often called the Arrowhead Chop, a nod to the Chiefs’ stadium.
John Learned, a member of the United Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes, led a small group that, in 2013, encouraged leaders break with the traditions of non-Natives dressing like Indians. But this decision, according to Learned, was not offensive because it had no real meaning for indigenous communities.
“We’re not going to intervene after the fact, because it’s unique,” he said. “It’s a rallying cry for our team.”
While the team has highlighted its relationship with Learned as proof of its commitment to Indigenous communities, some more established Indigenous organizations say leaders have ignored them. When the team began working with Indigenous organizations, they did not understand the Indian Center of Kansas Citysaid Gaylene Crouser, executive director of the 49-year-old nonprofit, which provides social services to about 6,000 Native people a year.
The local Indian community’s opinions on the tomahawk chop run the gamut, Crouser said, from those who think it’s fine to others who are offended.
“As an organization, part of our mission is to empower Indians,” said Crouser, a member of the Standing Rock Sioux. “And things like the tomahawk chop don’t empower the Indians. It’s still very stereotypical and mocking of an entire race of people.
A survey of Native Americans — conducted by researchers at the University of Michigan and the University of California, Berkeley, and expected to be released next month — found that about half of respondents were bothered or offended when sports fans waved the tomahawk or wore Indian headdresses. . Opposition was even greater among those who frequently indulged in indigenous traditions, with 65 percent saying the chop bothered them, according to the report to appear in the academic journal “Social Psychological and Personality Science.”
Other research suggests that even when Native people view mascots or images as positive, they can still cause psychological harm, harming the self-esteem and ambitions of Native American youth.
“Using Native people as mascots is not an honor in any way,” said Stephanie Fryberg, a University of Michigan professor who is based in Tulalip and worked on the investigation. “It’s an illusion.”
The tomahawk chop sparks ambivalence among some Chiefs fans — they understand why natives might find it offensive, but say they do it to celebrate their team, not to demean the Indians. Several fans said they would have no problem ditching the chant and replacing it with something else, but that the team would have to lead this effort.
Joyce Parker, 65, cringed as she admitted she was doing the stunt at matches.
“It’s just that group joy of being caught up in the moment,” said Parker, a fan from Prairie Village, Kan., a suburb 10 minutes’ drive southwest of Kansas City. “Yes, I feel bad about that.”
But Brian Shirley, a 46-year-old warehouse manager, thinks this situation should remain.
“I don’t think they should be offended by it,” Shirley said. “I like going to the stadium and doing it.”
Quinton Lucas, the mayor of Kansas City, said it wasn’t his place to tell fans how to cheer, but acknowledged he doesn’t do that because “I have different ways of celebrating my fandom.”
Regardless of where people stand on the issue, Lucas said he hopes the rest of the country doesn’t judge Kansas City negatively because of the way its fans celebrate.
“Anyone who knows Kansas City, anyone who’s been to Arrowhead Stadium, knows we’re a good place,” Lucas said.
Ken Belson and Ben Shpigel contributed reporting.
