Adjective + Animal = Racism: Harris Elementary’s Annual Tradition of Teaching Stereotypes as Social Studies

Mx. Mortellus, Editor of It Doesn't Have To Be This Way

Once in a while, it becomes necessary for us over at It Doesn’t Have To Be This Way to commandeer this blog and clarify a point or twelve. So imagine my surprise come Thursday when a note (click through to read) came home in my children’s backpacks mere moments before I headed out the door to this month’s local Democratic Party meeting.

Here’s the highlight reel:

“Years ago and still today, Native Americans took honor in their names. Their names originated from nature… I want each member of our class family to choose a Native American name… Native Americans name themselves by combining a describing word with a word from nature… Examples: Blue Sky, Little Squirrel, Tough Bull, Shining Star, Loving Heart, Evening Star, Running Turkey, Running Buffalo, Chief Big Hunter…”“…Also, we are asking each child to bring a white, tan, or beige t-shirt or pillowcase to make a Native American ‘vest.’”

Naturally, I had finalized and printed this month’s issue mere moments before the school delivered this masterclass in beige-toned ignorance. My kids go to this school, so I’d like to report that last year—when they started Kindergarten, I called it out then—back when the assignment was just the damn T-shirt. I kept my kids home that day in protest and truly thought we’d covered why we do not, under any circumstances, play dress-up with other people’s cultures.

Silly me.

Because back on October 29th, during a scheduled parent-teacher meeting with my children’s teacher and the school principal, Brandon Hill, they mentioned this upcoming “a day from the past” event. (Which my child immediately interpreted as “stuff that’s gone now? Because it’s the past?” So truly: excellent work, Harris Elementary.) Since they remembered I’m a world-class pain in the ass, they politely asked if the kids could participate. And I, like a fool, repeated what I said last year: 'So long as there’s none of that racist T-shirt nonsense, they can come.'

Clearly the staff took that as a challenge. “Not racist enough?” they whispered. “Hold my beige vest,” they said.

So, I assume, in the spirit of adding even more “appreciation,” they went rooting around and found a brand-new stereotype to tack on. Had I waited even one more hour, we could have dedicated an entire special edition to this educational… adventure. Perhaps even included an activity page titled “Find All the Stereotypes Your Teacher Missed.”

And listen, I have seen some things in this county.

Rufus Pickens anointing a Port-a-John with Crisco. Sister Thelma calling the library a “den of demon-flavored feminism.” I’ve even seen Ricky Dean Tucker try to commune with Jesus through a malfunctioning vape pen behind the Dollar General. But NOTHING—and I do mean NOTHING—prepared me for First Grade Cultural Appreciation Week™, brought to you by the same educational professionals who definitely still have a Land O’Lakes tub from 1998 in their fridge because “the butter lady was pretty.” So of course this week’s installment of You Tried, Bless Your Hearts would feature a very special letter announcing that the class will learn about Thanksgiving by—and I am not joking—making up their own “Native American names.”

Because nothing says “respect for Indigenous cultures” like a Mad Libs of Old-Timey Racism.

“Please help your child come up with a Native American name! Examples: Blue Sky, Running Turkey, Morning Glory, Chief Big Hunter…”

Chief.Big.Hunter.

I swear I almost summoned the ancestors myself with the unholy pitch of the sound that escaped my body. If you’re going to deploy stereotypes with that level of confidence, ma’am, at least commit. Why stop at “Running Turkey” when you can go full John Wayne fever dream?

• Crying Cloud Who Just Wants Her Reparations

• Wears Beige Because School Said So

• Little Microaggression

• Snowy Owl of Suburban Ignorance

• Wishes-They’d-Just-Read-A-Book

• Little Acorn Who Googled ‘How Indian Name’

• Chief No Research

And then—because this train has no brakes—children are asked to bring a tan T-shirt or pillowcase to craft their very own historical inaccuracy cosplay. A “Native American vest.” Lovingly crafted from a Hanes Beefy-T. Beautiful. Stunning. Nothing honors thousands of years of cultural tradition like a craft you can buy in bulk at Walmart for $6.99.

Meanwhile, somewhere, an actual Indigenous ancestor just rolled their eyes so hard they shifted a tectonic plate.

Let me be extremely clear:

We do not “become” Native for a day. We do not “play Indian.” We do not teach children that hundreds of sovereign nations—each with their own languages, histories, and traditions—can be boiled down to: “Pick an adjective and an animal, sweetie!” This is Pilgrim Pageant Level Racism. This is “everything we know about Native Americans came from a Crayola worksheet in 1973.” This is “Running Bear was apparently too on-the-nose but Running Turkey was fine” curriculum design. And frankly, in a county where half the grown adults still think Cherokee is a Jeep and not a nation, we do not have room for this mess.

So no, my child will not be participating in Name-Yourself-After-A-Stereotype Day but if the staff needs actual educational activities, might I suggest:

• Learning the names of the people whose land this is

• Discussing colonization honestly

• Reading literally anything written by an Indigenous author

• Understanding that “Native Americans” are not a monolith, and are certainly not a dress-up theme

But since y’all insist on handing out spirit-animal monikers like cupcakes at field day, fine—here’s mine:

Mortellus: Deep Sighing Parent Who Has Had Quite Enough Today.

And I will wear it on my vest.

Made from your pillowcase.

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For the record, Rutherford County sits on the homelands of the Cherokee and Catawba nations, along with many smaller Siouan-speaking tribes whose histories predate this school district by a few thousand years. None of these people wore beige pillowcase vests. None of them named themselves like a fucking Build-a-Bear. None of them would recognize this “lesson” as anything but the papier-mâché offspring of Hollywood, Boy Scout handbooks, and 1970s coloring books. If Harris Elementary wants to teach real Indigenous history, the Eastern Band of Cherokee are right up the road, their educators pick up the phone, and a curriculum already exists. What they’re doing isn’t education—it’s reenacting stereotypes so old the ancestors groaned.