•••
The U.S. House and Senate, heading toward a cataclysmic economic disaster that would reverberate worldwide, pull back at the brink ("House OKs debt ceiling package," June 1). Other good news is that most members of Congress can, on a regular basis, put their shoes on the correct feet, recite the names of their children in birth order and explain precisely the consequences of not paying their own credit card bills in a timely manner. Democracy stumbles on.
Bob Norberg, Lake City, Minn.
MASCOT BANS
Celebrate new restrictions
When I first began reading Mark Beito's commentary, "Mascot ban means removal for Chief Sleepy Eye" (Opinion Exchange, May 30), I was excited to learn that the recent legislative session enacted legislation that seeks to respect tribal nations' names, cultures, decisionmaking power and images, such as portraiture. I am proud to live in a state where we are enacting change based on the vital work of racial and cultural reckoning. But then I realized that Beito was in fact using mockery, disrespect and sarcasm in his perspective about changing the names of schools, teams and mascots — even cities. Unfortunately, his dismissive attitude reflects the lack of empathy needed to repair harm and restore relations of mutual respect. One might think the former member of the ISD 84 school board would understand the educational importance of asking permission from the very people whose names, cultural identities and land has already been taken. Maybe I missed Beito's sense of humor?
Nancy Victorin-Vangerud, Minneapolis
•••
Now the Minnesota Legislature has banned the use of mascots derived from American Indian culture. Something similar happened in my hometown of Flint, Mich. There, I attended Pierce Elementary School, which was named after President Franklin Pierce. What passed for a yearbook was called "The Pierce Arrow." What passed for sports teams were called the Pierce Arrows. A Pierce Arrow was a luxury automobile in the first third of the 20th century. The Roosevelts drove Pierce Arrows. So did actor Fatty Arbuckle. The company went out of business during the Great Depression.