There is no question the legacy of Chief Illiniwek remains an ongoing and divisive chapter of our University’s history. The Chief decorates storefronts, homes and T-shirts across campus, and while the Chief no longer has a place on the field in Memorial Stadium, the stands are filled with his image. 

But even more importantly, the Chief’s place in the identity of our school has wavered little in the minds of many students on this campus; for those students (as well as alumni) the recent efforts the Campus Spirit Revival Facebook campaign appears an unabashed attempt to erase a piece of the University’s character and spirit. 

We don’t think efforts to find a new logo for the Fighting Illini is categorically wrong. But we do think this effort is occurring too soon and doesn’t take into consideration the real hurt felt by students over the loss.

The Facebook campaign has attempted to make the distinction that its goal is not to replace the Chief or even to find a mascot, writing in a wall post that, “We are searching for a symbol, not so much a mascot. It seems many people are irked about the idea of a big cartoonish goon of a mascot clowning around on the sideline at every game. We are not necessarily pushing for that. We are pushing for a symbol, a seal, whatever you may wish to call it.”

However, this attempt at clarification reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the debate. This is a dispute of meanings, not mascots. 

The Chief became a symbol of a generations-deep loyalty to the University. For these students, the loss of the Chief didn’t hurt because they lost some Native American aspect of their identity — it hurt because they lost a part of their identity as part of the greater, communal mission of the University. 

Many alumni and students feel they were let down by a university more concerned with rigid political correctness than its history. But the Chief is not coming back, and we think over time students will realize that our school spirit and identity do not trump the very real offense and denigration felt by Native Americans at the way their traditions and culture were being used. 

We do not get to tell someone else how they feel. We do not get to decide when someone else is offended and when they are not. 

But we also don’t get to tell students who loved the Chief that they should just get over it. The loss of the Chief caused real hurt to many, especially to students with family traditions tied to the beat of the Three In One. These students are not bigoted to Native Americans, but they suffered the implicit accusation that their love of The Chief was something else than love for The Fighting Illini and all it stands for. 

The University may find a new symbol, but we can’t have one until the bitterness has softened with the passing of time. When left unused, symbols lose power, but slowly. The Chief lives on through the vast number of alumni who were inspired by him. But as more and more students graduate without the Chief, they may choose to find a new symbol to express the very same values that the Chief did for as long as it did. 

A new symbol, such as a lion or wolf or Abraham Lincoln, will not have meaning like the Chief. Now is the time to heal the rifts caused by the loss of the Chief and to endeavour to recognize its values even when we can’t see it on the field.