(Yona, a Native American woman, is holding a sign that says: “I am a person, not a mascot.” She is speaking to Bill, a white man who is wearing the current Washington DC team jersey.)
Bill: Ugh, you protesters take everything too seriously. It’s just a game! Why can’t you just relax?
(Yona speaking to Bill, lowering her sign slowly.)
Yona: If it’s not serious, why can’t the name change? It’s a slur that dehumanizes my race.
Bill: It’s supposed to be a sign of admiration – c’mon, in context, it’s not a slur. Besides, there’s a history with the name.
(Yona and Bill speaking, Yona has lowered her sign to her side.)
Yona: Oh, so you want a name that’s got history, I see. Something that’s a symbol of power, that can knock down any barrier?
(Above Yona and Bill there is a logo that reads “Washington Lobbyists” and shows an older man in a suit holding a briefcase and preparing to throw a handful of money like a football.)
Yona: Then why not call the team the Washington Lobbyists? They get whatever they want, protect their own, and nothing can stand in their way!
Bill: Gah! No!
(Yona has set down her sign and it is leaning against her leg so she can cross her arms while speaking to Bill.)
Yona: Hmm, maybe you don’t fear Lobbyists enough. Maybe you need a mascot even more ruthless and sneaky, one that no one can seem to fight against.
Bill: That sounds good!
(Above Yona and Bill is a logo with a grinning Uncle Sam chomping on a cigar; his head is on a field of red and white stripes that have crossed-out blue houses floating among them. The logo says: “Washington Bankers.”)
Yona: How about the Washington Bankers? If you’re willing to foreclose on someone’s home, you’ll do anything for a win!
Bill: Um, well…
(Yona and Bill are facing each other; she’s reaching out to him.)
Yona: Okay. That’s clearly not working for you. But I think I get it. You want a name that’s really scary, for a group of dedicated, aggressive fighters – a name that implies a history of savage violence, people who can’t be reasoned with, a terrifying, conquering horde.
Bill: Perfect! Now you get it.
(Above Yona and Bill is a logo showing an angry-looking, muscular white man; he is carrying a football with an arm that has “Pride” tattooed on it in a blackletter style. His jersey number is “00” and underneath him the team name is “Washington White Supremacists.)
Yona: So call yourselves the Washington White Supremacists. If your team name includes a racial slur, that’s the only reasonable thing to call you.
(Yona has turned away from Bill and is holding her sign, Bill looks nervous.)
Bill: That makes me very uncomfortable.
Yona: Oh, I’m sorry. Did I upset you by implying that your race is violent, scary, aggressive, and to be feared? I thought that was supposed to be a sign of admiration. There’s a history there, you know. But jeez, don’t take it so seriously. We’re just talking about a game, after all.
(Yona is raising an eyebrow at Bill while he scolds her.)
Bill: You’re intentionally trying to be disrespectful. And loving a football team doesn’t make me a white supremacist.
Yona: You don’t have to be in the KKK or be a Neo-Nazi to practice white supremacy. You’re uncomfortable being called a white supremacist, but you and your team feel perfectly comfortable choosing to use a slur against an entire race. That’s proof enough that white supremacy is alive and well in Washington. Anyway. Go Team.