Hackney: A racist symbol sold near hallowed IMS

I felt anxious Sunday afternoon driving along 16th Street on my way to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. As a newly minted Hoosier, I wanted to experience the auto-racing history and hoopla so strongly linked to the city, and the Brickyard 400 was a perfect opportunity. But I’m also woman enough to admit when I’m out of my comfort zone.

At a stop light, I looked over and saw a small child with big button eyes in the backseat of a car. The boy was frantically waving a miniature American flag. He looked over at me and grinned. This was the sign I needed. I smiled and waved to him. I sighed and drove on.

Maybe at a different time, I would not have felt such apprehension about going to the Brickyard. But this is where we are as a country. This is a time when folks, some of them fans of NASCAR, are fighting for the right to still fly a Confederate flag. They call it history; I call it racist.

Yet here I was, inserting myself into the racing culture that, let’s be honest, hasn’t had the most diverse or inclusive history. NASCAR has worked to improve its image and broaden its fan base, and I saw a few people of color at the track Sunday. But there’s no denying stock car racing’s stature as the signature sport of the South — the white South. Often, fans can be seen draped in the Confederate flag or flying it high at various races.

Last month, though, NASCAR asked its fans not to display the rebel flag, as its sometimes called, at events or at race venues. There’s been renewed effort to do away with the divisive battle flag in the wake of the murder of nine African Americans at a Charleston, S.C., church. The alleged white supremacist shooter was photographed with the flag.

It was evident on Sunday at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway that NASCAR needs to do a better job of policing itself. Across Georgetown Road from the track, and not 30 feet away from an official IMS merchandise tent near Gate 5, was another booth where race fans could buy as much Confederate flag swag as they could carry. There were Confederate baseball hats and skull caps, lighters, bumper stickers, license plates, T-shirts, and flags of every size imaginable.

One T-shirt read: “Heritage, Pride, History.” Another said: “If this shirt offends you, you need a history lesson.”

I’m certain I know the history of the Confederate flag, and yes, I was offended by its prominent display at the Brickyard. The flag was first a symbol of a war that was fought, in part, to uphold slavery. During the Civil Rights movement, the Confederate flag became a symbol of segregation and the massive resistance of whites who did not want blacks to share the same classrooms, bus stations, restaurants and other public spaces.

In a flash of red, white and blue, I felt like I had been kicked in the gut. Before I could even make my way into this hallowed racing ground, I already felt hated and unwanted. That’s the thing about symbols such as the Confederate flag — they elicit very real and visceral feelings.

Much of the merchandise at the booth had a NASCAR tag on it, though it is owned by an independent company out of Wind Gap, Penn., called K&K Kollectibles. I won’t attempt to point out the obvious related to this company’s name. I might have an inkling as to their motives, but I didn’t get an answer when I called the company’s headquarters on Sunday afternoon.

I did, however, talk to their employee, Manuel Pulido, who has been traveling to NASCAR events for the last four years to hawk Confederate flag merchandise. He said he didn’t have many sales at IMS on Sunday, though, and he believes times are changing for the sport.

I asked how he, as a Hispanic male, felt about selling an offensive and racist symbol. “What can I do? They put it for sale. What can you do? Some people say it’s part of the United States’ history. Some still buy, but some have stopped.”

Pulido, 38, isn’t the problem. The Greenville, N.C., resident is working for a living. Maybe K&K Kollectibles isn’t even the problem. But if the IMS and NASCAR want us to believe they are trying to make auto racing more inclusive, and that they do not support use of the Confederate flag, then they need to back that up with action. It takes more than just asking fans to adhere to doing the right thing; they must enforce it. That includes taking every step possible to not allow such merchandise to be sold near the IMS.

Doug Boles, IMS president, sees it differently. He said the area around the Speedway is a patchwork of properties owned by several businesses. He also said the company selling Confederate flag paraphernalia does not have a contract with IMS, and the tent was not erected on the track’s property.

“We made a commitment to ensure that the flag wasn’t being sold on our property,” Boles said. “I don’t think it’s our place to tell another property owner what they can and can’t do.”

I suggested to Boles that if unauthorized merchandise bearing IMS trademarks were sold without permission by a business near the track, action would be taken, regardless of whose property it was on. He said he couldn’t comment on a hypothetical.

I did enjoy my time at IMS; it is an awe-inspiring stadium. I’ve never seen vehicles travel so fast, and I’m happy to have had the experience. I even kissed the bricks. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong. The best part of my day was seeing that boy wave the American flag. He doesn’t yet know the power he holds, but he’s our future.

Hackney is community engagement editor, columnist and a member of The Indianapolis Star Editorial Board. Follow her on Twitter: @suzyscribe.