Recently, there has been a concerted effort by the NCAA to force schools with American Indian names or mascots to change their names. And earlier this month, a group of 90 university professors sent a letter to officials at several hundred universities, asking them not to schedule athletic events against schools that continue to use these names. This December, Harvard’s men’s ice hockey team will play two games against my alma mater, the University of North Dakota (UND), which uses the team name “Fighting Sioux,” and given my own experience as an American Indian student at UND, I urge the Harvard team to reconsider playing these games.

My story is just one of the many stories of how this issue affects UND’s American Indian students. I grew up immersed in the Dakota/Lakota culture, attending traditional ceremonies such as the Inipi (sweat lodge), Wiyang Wacipi (sun dance), and the Hanbleceya (vision quest). My family has a rich, proud history. We are descendants of Gall and Rocky Buttes. These were women and men who fought along side Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876.

Today, debilitating diseases such as diabetes, alcoholism, heart disease, and suicide affect our people at a rate more than three times the national average. Due to these conditions, American Indians have had to acclimate themselves to living day-to-day under extremely extenuating circumstances.Growing up on the reservation, we were oblivious to the impoverished conditions that existed. Happiness came in the form of a deep respect and love of our culture. In addition we were protected and well guarded from outside influences by a small, tightly knit community.

I was a young woman when I went to UND in 1997. I tried my best to fit in to the whole college scene, living in the dorm, going to dances, and attending a football game for the first time.

At the game, I witnessed several of my white peers painted exorbitantly, with fake feathers adorning their bodies. Our fans were chanting and doing the tomahawk chop, while our opponent’s fans were chanting slogans like, “Pillage the village, rape the women!”

It is inevitable that, with a team name like the “Fighting Sioux,” opponents and spectators will say or do something that may hurt an actual Dakota/Lakota person who is watching—and in the passion of the moment, it can be difficult to differentiate between literal language and fun in the name of sports. But these displays made a mockery of our traditions. In our culture, eagle feathers are sacred, and they are earned when an individual accomplishes a great and honorable deed. As with eagle feathers, our paint is worn by veterans and also in tribal ceremonies. When I saw what was happening at the game, I was filled with so much anger and hurt that I couldn’t hide it from my two nephews who were with me. Our own fans were disrespectful, and no race of human beings should have to put up with chants like those of our opponents.

I never again attended an athletic event at UND in my entire five years there. I would have loved to cheer on my school and attend the many celebrations the school offered. Throughout those five years at UND, I was glad I did not attend another game because the vulgar, despicable t-shirts, signs, and cheers made by both our team and our opponents would have undoubtedly infuriated me more.

At UND I participated in demonstrations and educational forums regarding the issue of our team name. The community, the politicians, and the students all said that they were willing to listen to the “other side.” But it is all lip service. The university and its “old boy” network have never seriously listened to native students. They never listened when my car windows were broken after a march regarding the team name issue. They never listened when two white male peers harassed me for wearing a “Change the Name” button on my backpack. They never listened when a car full of white girls chased my sister down the street and told her to go back to the reservation. Honor us? Surely, they jest.

I have been waiting silently for the day to come when an outside agency would step up and step in. And that day may be now. We rely on those who have a voice and wield the power of change. As fans, we rely on the NCAA to levy athletic sanctions on UND. As natives we rely on the National Congress of American Indians—which has vigorously opposed the “Fighting Sioux” nickname—to represent us. We rely on our tribal government—the real Sioux, Dakota, and Lakota tribal governments who have also steadfastly opposed the “Fighting Sioux” nickname—to represent us. Perhaps we would also benefit from the support of organizations such as the NAACP and the Rainbow Coalition, who would surely be up in arms if any school name referred to black Americans. But for now, we will stick with the regulatory organizations that can sanction UND, be it the NCAA or through academic accreditation associations.

Everyone, from the governor of North Dakota to our U.S. senators, is backing the nickname. My tribal government, the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, as well as the other Sioux Tribes of North and South Dakota, has opposed the nickname at UND. What does that say about state-tribal relations in North Dakota? Respect? I don’t think so. Honor? Not even close. Despite UND’s noble intentions of honoring my people, my heritage, and my culture, I do not feel honored, so if I tell you to quit using my name, stop using it.

I hope that Harvard fans, team members, and the athletic department take into consideration my experiences and the experiences of those like me when Harvard and the University of North Dakota ice hockey teams meet this December. At the very least, I hope that your fans will be more considerate of our traditions than many of our other opponents or our own supposed supporters.

Waste’Win Yellow Lodge Young is a 2001 graduate of the University of North Dakota and a citizen of the Standing Rock Dakota/Lakota Sioux Nation. She lives in Fort Yates, N.D.