Latest news with #Eskimo
The Star
3 days ago
- General
- The Star
Curious Cook: The elusive essence of flavour
The last of my aunts on my mother's side passed away recently, and one of my memories of her was at a family wedding dinner 12 years ago where she and other family members were nonchalantly mixing St-Émilion red wine with cola or lemonade. They encouraged me to do the same, because they said red wine by itself was too 'sour' or 'bitter'. I had tried the mixture before in Spain (where it is called kalimotxo), but it is more acceptable to mix cola and ice with cheap vino de mesa than a full-bodied expensive claret. And to be fair, a kalimotxo was a refreshingly nice drink, especially in the heat of a Spanish summer. First problem However, it did make me think of how one would describe a 'nice drink'. That is because a lot depends on context and the influence of peers. In a 2008 experiment, researchers at the University of Bordeaux served blindfolded oenology (wine science) university students the same white wine twice, once described as a white wine and again later as a 'red' wine. The outcome was remarkable. When the students believed they were drinking red wine, they used terminology and descriptors typically associated with red wines (berries, tannins, etc.). When they believed the same wine was white, they used completely different descriptors typical of white wines (floral notes, citrus, etc). The experiment demonstrated how powerful cognitive expectations are in sensory perception. Simply being told the wine was red caused the participants' brains to interpret the flavours through that lens, despite the wine actually being white. Wine experts have a specific lexicon to describe the taste of wine. — ELINA SAZONOVA/Pexels The study challenged assumptions about wine expertise and highlighted how personal expectations and prior information significantly influence how we experience and describe wine, even among those with formal training in wine tasting. Second problem Apart from inherent biases due to cognitive expectations, a more fundamental issue may be how flavours are communicated in the first place. How would you describe the flavour of vanilla to someone who has never tasted it? What words would you use? Can you imagine describing the fragrant spicy creaminess of curry laksa to an Eskimo? Flavour is a multisensory illusion. Unlike vision or hearing, which are tied to specific organs, flavour emerges from an orchestration of inputs, processed into a neurological symphony by the brain. The core inputs are: • Taste, (sweet, salty, sour, bitter, umami) perceived via the tongue • Smell, via orthonasal and retronasal olfaction, which is a major factor which can contribute up to 80% of a perceived flavour, depending on the intensity • Texture, temperature, and even sound, (eg, the crunch of a potato crisp), detected by the mouth and ears. The brain's orbitofrontal cortex integrates these signals into a unified experience. But language resides in the brain's Broca's and Wernicke's areas, regions evolved for communication, not sensory processing. This anatomical divide introduces a fundamental problem: How can humans translate the harmony of flavours into a sequence of meaningful words? The problem may be because our brains evolved to prioritise survival, not poetry. Early humans needed to communicate 'this berry is really poisonous' far more urgently than 'this berry has a tannic sharpness with floral undertones.' As a result, the language for describing taste remains rudimentary compared to our sensory capacities. Chocolate described as 'silky' triggers multisensory expectations. — VIE STUDIO/Pexels The orbitofrontal cortex processes flavours in vivid, multidimensional detail, but Broca's area struggles to encode these sensations into the linear, symbolic structure of language. This mismatch explains why even seasoned food critics resort to metaphors like 'charming' or 'explosive' – words that evoke emotions or physical sensations rather than precise flavours. This neural gap in our brains also shapes cultural differences in taste communication. For instance, the Japanese term 'koku' – describing a flavour's lingering depth – has no direct English equivalent, much like the Inuit word 'ikuumaq' (literally 'tasting like seal fat') relies on lived Arctic experience. When a Thai chef describes 'prik pon' (a specific crunchy spiciness), the term activates sensory memories in local Thais but leaves outsiders grasping for meaning. Our linguistic tools, constrained by both biology and culture, necessarily filter the vastness of flavours into bite-sized descriptors, often losing subtleties and even meaning in translation. Semiotics isn't enough Semiotics is a means for describing experiences, developed separately and independently in the late 19th century by a Swiss linguist, Ferdinand de Saussure, and an American philosopher, Charles Sanders Peirce. In simple terms, semiotics is the study of signs and symbols, and how they combine to create meaning in an attempt to communicate an understanding of experiences and the world. Signs can be words, images, sounds, gestures, objects, etc, and semiotics investigates the relationship between signs and what they represent. Ultimately semiotics attempts to explain how such signs function to express meaning within cultural and social systems. So whenever you are describing a food encounter, you are actually applying semiotics using words and possibly gestures in an attempt to convey what you had experienced. Yet, semiotics is inherently imperfect. As philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein noted, 'The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.' If a culture lacks a word for 'vanilla,' does that diminish its ability to perceive vanilla? And the answer, probably, is Yes. It would not be significantly different from your inability to perceive the experience of ikuumaq (I am assuming you are not an Inuit reading this). Perceptual fingerprints Some neuroscientists argue, with good reason, that flavours are inherently idiosyncratic. Genetic variations (for example, numbers of taste buds and olfactory neurons, etc), past experiences, and even moods create unique perceptual fingerprints which attach themselves to the flavours encountered. Two people sipping the same wine may have radically different neural responses – ones no vocabulary can fully reconcile. However, this neural divide is not insurmountable. Just as musicians are trained to discern pitch, individuals can hone their flavour vocabulary. Wine experts, for example, develop a specialised lexicon ('tannic,' 'jammy', 'plummy', etc) that refines their perceptual acuity. Studies show that sommeliers' brains exhibit heightened connectivity between the orbitofrontal cortex and Broca's area, suggesting that practice can bridge the perception-language divide. Hallucinations Curiously, imperfect semiotics can be used as perception filters, which reduce our ability to independently experience the flavours of foods. Such perception filters are used extensively in marketing to steer our sensory perceptions in the direction of the food producers' goods. For example, a wine labelled as 'complex, with hints of dark berries' may be perceived as such, even if the taster detected none of those notes. This phenomenon, called 'label-induced hallucination,' reveals language and semiotics' power to distort reality. Food packaging is a masterclass in semiotic manipulation. Artisanal buzzwords commonly used such as 'small-batch,' 'handcrafted,' and 'locally sourced' evoke exclusiveness and quality, even if the product is in fact mass-produced. Cross-sensory or 'synesthetic' labelling is also very often used to entice customers. Chocolate described as 'silky', or kombucha as 'exhilarating', triggers multisensory expectations even though the labels do not actually make sense. Neuromarketing research shows that evocative labels activate the 'insula', a brain region linked to disgust and craving. A 'zesty' lemonade might be perceived as tasting brighter and fizzier than one labelled 'original' or 'tangy,' even if they are identical. Boundaries If language and crafty semiotics can shape what we taste, does it also constrain our innate gastronomic experience? The answer is complex. Philosopher Carolyn Korsmeyer contends that taste creates knowledge that resides primarily in our bodily experience rather than our intellectual reasoning. This knowledge therefore exists outside of semiotics. The moment you taste a perfectly ripe mango or a stunning wine, you immediately know it's something special – and this knowing happens independently from the labelling and before you can even attempt to describe it. Remember the first mouthful of an extremely delicious food that made you feel like you are in heaven? No labelling can invoke that feeling. Hence there are likely to be some boundaries which even slick semiotics cannot cross. Either you are in gastronomic heaven, or you are not. As top chef René Redzepi once remarked, 'The best flavours are those that leave you speechless.' Beauty in the unsayable The limitations of taste language reveal a paradox: While words often shape our experiences, they also confine them. Yet, this gap invites delicious exploration, especially in the 21st century. By investigating and savouring metaphors of fascinating foods available from foreign lands, and acknowledging the idiosyncrasies of flavour, we can celebrate culinary diversity in ways that past generations simply could not. In short, the ineffability of taste reminds us that there are still many delicious wonders out there waiting to be savoured in our own very personal ways, and not just talked about. The views expressed here are entirely the writer's own.
Newsweek
21-07-2025
- Health
- Newsweek
Owner Worried Cat Seems Tired—Can't Cope With What Petcam Reveals
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. When 10-month-old cat Eskimo began acting strangely tired during the day, her owner Leah from Lancashire, U.K., feared something might be seriously wrong. "For a few weeks I noticed she seemed tired through the day," Leah, who didn't share her surname, told Newsweek. Concerned it might be medical, she considered taking her to the vet for blood tests. But one night, curious and worried, she checked the pet camera—and what she saw turned concern into laughter. Captured on a Ring cam in the early hours, Eskimo was not sick. She was exercising almost hourly. The video revealed the cat sprinting on the cat wheel in what looked like an intense, self-imposed training session. "I've seen some crazy things on my pets' CCTV," Leah said. "But I couldn't believe it. This breed doesn't normally use an exercise wheel, it's usually Bengals." A picture of Eskimo the cat from the video, who had been looking tired recently. A picture of Eskimo the cat from the video, who had been looking tired recently. @garythegingeweiler/TikTok Cat exercise wheels were invented to give indoor cats a safe and effective way to stay active. Similar to hamster wheels, they allow the cat to run in place. While they take up space, they are a great way to keep active cats busy, and are often particularly recommended for high-energy cat breeds like Bengals, Savannah cats and Siamese. Leah shared the clip of Eskimo running around on TikTok where it has been viewed over 9,000 times. In the comments, people shared their reactions. "Saved yourself from vet bills by checking the cameras," said viewer Ayume. While Nicky joked that the cat was: "Training for a cross country walk." Pictures of Eskimo the cat running on the wheel, something the video revealed he was doing almost every hour throughout the night. Pictures of Eskimo the cat running on the wheel, something the video revealed he was doing almost every hour throughout the night. @garythegingeweiler/TikTok "That's hilarious," said viewer Emma. While TikToker Ms Green Fox wrote: "Gym gurl!" Leah was delighted by the attention the video gained. "I like to share my pets' shenanigans," she said. "It makes me smile, so I hope it has for someone else too. She now identifies as a hamster." This isn't the first time a cat's active antics have gained viral attention. Last year another cat was caught using the wheel, but not as expected—instead of running on the wheel, the chunky white and gray cat was lounging and taking a nap on it. While earlier this year another cat left people in hysterics when they shared the pet's obsession with working out on his owner's treadmill. Knuckles' owner explained that he often meows at his owner throughout the day until he is allowed to walk on the treadmill. Do you have funny and adorable videos or pictures of your pet you want to share? Send them to life@ with some details about your best friend, and they could appear in our Pet of the Week lineup.
Japan Today
20-07-2025
- Japan Today
Caves are Japan's last unexplored frontiers
By Michael Hoffman For all the good that can be said of modern life – and much good can be said of it: it's fast, efficient convenient, stimulating, automated, virtual, comfortable, healthy, materially abundant if you've money (and money is to be had if you work hard, play your cards right, resist extravagant temptation and aren't uncommonly unlucky) – there is something, and very few fail to feel this at one time or another, missing at the core of it. What? Easier to feel it than name it. Brutus magazine (July 15) asks a pertinent question: 'Why do people still long for adventure?' Because, the short answer would go, we are adventurers at heart: hunters, warriors, explorers. We evolved that way. Then we evolved farther. Too far? Not far enough? Or in the wrong direction? Away, in any event, from adventure. Hunting even as a sport is in decline, with a resulting surge in wildlife and the threats it poses. War is still with us but not its glory; it's an evil, murderous, soulless business, a sinister survival of darker times, the sooner transcended the better. Exploring? The world is mapped, packaged, the wilderness suburbanized, the frontiers become tourist resorts. What's left to explore? You'd be surprised, is Brutus' reply in effect. Terra incognita is not extinct, just hard to get to. Very hard. A sign at the metaphorical entrance might read: For adventurers only. Adventurers – not all but most – are marked from birth. As kids they're not like other kids. Kids' stuff bores them. They bide their time. They don't know what they want. They may despair of ever finding it. Yusuke Kakuhata, growing up in rural Hokkaido in the 1970s, was like that. Later, as a student at Waseda University, he joined the exploration club and discovered the lure of remote regions. Not remote enough. He graduated and went farther. First, the Tsangpo Grand Canyon in Tibet, in 2002-3. Alone. That's the point. Solitude: a common thread linking all Brutus' adventurers. Adventure with friends is fun. Adventure alone is self-discovery. Even with friends – in extreme moments, we're alone. Tsangpo is the world's deepest canyon. The river flowing through it, the Yarlung Tsangpo, is known as the 'Everest of rivers.' You must earn your passage through an environment like this. Of his experiences there Kakuhata says, 'Tsangpo for me was simply a geographical exploration, filling in empty spaces on a map.' 'Simply.' At times he was hopelessly lost, at times face to face, he thought, with death. It's good material for a book, and he wrote one. But there's more, there's better, meaning worse, more dangerous, more extreme. And he needed it, something in him needed it. He found it. In 'polar night.' Night doesn't get blacker than at the poles in winter. 2012 found him in far northern Greenland and Canada – alone again, unless the dogs pulling his sled count as company. He came prepared, a conscientious student of Eskimo ways and Eskimo survival skills. He knew how to hunt Eskimo fashion, how to train dogs, how to live in an environment you almost have to have been born into to tolerate. Perhaps he'd been there in a previous life. For four months he trekked, on and on into the endless night. He felt at times his spiritual inadequacy. 'If my supplies ran low I'd think to myself, 'If I don't find prey I'll starve.' The Eskimo doesn't think like that. He knows he'll find prey – and so always does.' Kakuhata did too, evidently, since he lived to tell the tale – another book in embryo – the nub of which he expresses for Brutus this way: 'We who never leave daylight behind can scarcely imagine the grandeur of unending night. I kept thinking to myself, 'What will I feel when at last I see the sun coming up?'' The months passed, the sun rose – 'that feeling' – there's no putting it into words. Maybe no need to put it into words. The point is: extreme exploration is self-exploration. It's yourself you're discovering. Where are Japan's unexplored regions, where is its endless night? A narrow, crowded island country in the temperate latitudes suggests dim prospects for either – but have you considered caves? What made Katsuji Yoshida consider them? 'I don't even like caves,' he says. No wonder: 'I'm afraid of the dark.' How to explain, then, his commitment to cave exploration over the past 30 years? Fate? Destiny? The mysterious warps in the human psyche that lead us where they lead us? – not irresistibly maybe but the price of resistance is the incomplete life, the feeling at the end of it that you had something really special within reach and didn't reach. Caves are Japan's last unexplored frontiers. No one knows how many there are. You're climbing rocks, or kayaking down a river, you see an opening, maybe it's a cave; you venture inside; maybe it's a dead end; you're blocked, stymied; maybe, on the other hand, it opens before your very eyes, a world hitherto unknown, blacker than any polar night, its ground never trodden by human feet – probably by few enough animal feet – yours to discover. That's what Katsuji lives for. Born in Osaka in 1966, he knew as a child those energy surges, he tells Brutus, that lead one to pick fights for no reason and get into all kinds of trouble with the forces of law, order, convention and authority. He left high school without graduating, worked in construction, on a whim took up mountain-climbing, didn't like it, tried scuba diving, didn't like that either, and if not for caves – but how did he get into caving? He doesn't say – maybe his fear of the dark suggested an enemy within to conquer. Whatever it was, he found himself one day or night in a nameless cave somewhere in Aichi Prefecture, some four and a half tatami mats wide, and 'I'll never forget the feeling' – best not described because the reach of words, though vast, is not unlimited. Suffice it to say, as he does: 'This is what I'd been searching for!' A find that perpetuates the search, and so it remains 30 years later. Imagine this, he says: lowering yourself by rope deeper into a cave than Tokyo Tower is high, or entering a river cave on a raft; if it rains the cave fills with water, to say nothing of the danger of falling rocks or getting hopelessly lost, 'you've 30 minutes' worth of air in your tank' and a miserable end stares you straight in the face. 'Well, you have a choice: panic or stay calm.' Why force such a choice on yourself, when you could be doing a comfortable office job, drawing regular pay, living quietly at home, watching your kids grow up, looking forward to your next paid vacation and telling yourself the cost of living won't rise forever? Suffice it to say it's just what some people do in answer to some inexplicable need in them. © Japan Today
Al-Ahram Weekly
25-06-2025
- Business
- Al-Ahram Weekly
No stone left unturned in the search for gas - Economy - Al-Ahram Weekly
Second only to developments in the Iran-Israel conflict, reports on government efforts to secure gas supplies and prevent load shedding now dominate both airtime and print space in the Egyptian media. The government is moving on parallel paths, starting with signing gas import agreements, accelerating the connection of new regasification units to the national grid, depending more on fuel oil to operate power plants, and offering new areas for exploration. The Ministry of Petroleum and Mineral Resources awarded seven new exploration and production blocks to investors earlier this week. A statement by the ministry noted that out of these blocks, at least 17 new oil and gas wells should show yields soon. Meanwhile, the new Floating Storage and Regasification Units (FSRU), huge vessels that dock in ports receiving liquified natural gas (LNG) shipments and convert them into the gaseous state that can be easily pumped into pipelines connected to the national grid, were largely in the limelight. Both the prime minister and the minister of petroleum visited the Ain Sokhna Port to observe the readiness of the infrastructure for the connection of the second and third FSRU. Currently, Egypt has one operational FSRU, Hoegh Galleon, at the Red Sea port of Ain Sokhna, with two more expected to start working in July and a fourth to reach the country in August. 'Bringing the second and third regasification vessels into operation by the first week of July will secure our needs if gas supplies from the networks of neighbouring countries are cut off,' said Prime Minister Mustafa Madbouli at the cabinet's weekly press conference. The two new units are Energos Eskimo, obtained from Jordan earlier this month, and the German-built Energos Power. Egypt had contracted for eight LNG shipments to be offloaded, regasified, and pumped into the national grid in June, provided that a second regasification unit was up and working. However, there was a delay in connecting the new FSRU unit, and because the shipments had already maxed out the capacity of the Hoegh Galleon, the only currently working FSRU, tankers are queuing in Ain Sokhna waiting to offload their cargoes, according to the Middle East Economic Survey (MEES). The problem of delays would have been circumvented had the Energos Eskimo been in its original place in Aqaba. In December 2024, the American company that owns the Energos Eskimo agreed with the Egyptian authorities that the unit would be transferred to Egyptian waters, on the condition that Egypt provided Jordan with the needed gas through the Arab Pipeline. Under the deal, Jordan, which has a gas supply gap and is also dependent on Israeli gas exports, had the right to share the use of the Energos Eskimo until 2026, with around 350 million cubic feet of gas per day exported to Jordan and representing a significant share of the vessel's regasification capacity. The MEES explained that Egypt last year imported four gas cargoes between April and June through the Energos Eskimo while it was at Aqaba, but 'it is now marooned and waiting to be installed to Egypt's grid.' The ship was transferred from Aqaba to Ain Sokhna at the start of this month. Due to disruptions in Israeli gas supplies, Egypt is supplying Jordan with only 100 million cubic feet of natural gas per day to help it operate its power plants. It is doubling its electricity exports to Jordan. The two countries have a long-standing electricity exchange agreement, which was renewed for 2025. Another track that the government has been following is increasing its purchases of fuel oil that can be used instead of gas in operating the facilities of some industries. According to Reuters, Egypt is seeking approximately 900,000 tons of fuel oil for supply in August through its latest supply tender. The country consumes approximately 40,000 tons of fuel oil per day for power generation, according to the news agency. The current situation is a far cry from how things were between 2019 and 2022, when Egypt was a net gas exporter thanks to the production of the giant gas field Zohr. However, a slowdown in production in the Field due to technical issues, as well as foreign explorers' reluctance to increase production with their dues accumulating, cast its shadow on the country's production, and it started to import gas from Israel. Egypt's gas production came below the four billion cubic feet per day threshold in recent months, its lowest in almost a decade. Gas represents 80 per cent of the fuel mix used to generate power in Egypt. Imports from Israel were stable until the recent escalation of the conflict between Israel and Iran. Egypt's gas imports from Israel stopped on 13 June, with the Leviathan and Karish fields suspending production as soon as the first Iranian blows struck Israeli targets. Egypt used to receive around one billion cubic feet per day of gas from Israel, accounting for up to 60 per cent of its total gas imports and around a fifth of its total consumption, according to the Joint Organisation for Data Initiative (JODI), an international initiative to make oil and gas data available. While Israel resumed pumping gas, in small quantities, to both Jordan and Egypt at the beginning of the week, it is rumoured to have stopped a couple of days later, with Iran's attacks hitting energy facilities. Accordingly, the government told local petrochemical plants that the resumption of gas supplies would be delayed until the end of June, and the return to pre-war volumes would take place by mid-July, according to a statement by an anonymous official source to Al-Arabiya Business. * A version of this article appears in print in the 26 June, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly Follow us on: Facebook Instagram Whatsapp Short link:
Global News
28-05-2025
- Sport
- Global News
What's in a name? Elks vs. Eskimos debate returns to Edmonton football team
An issue some thought had been settled has been reopened in Edmonton, where the city's football team is reviving a discontinued name that was the topic of much debate and disagreement — something that continues to this day. In 2020, the CFL club's board of directors made the decision to discontinue the use of the word 'Eskimo' and launch a rebrand. The following year after consultations and a public poll, the team renamed the Edmonton Elks. Story continues below advertisement Prior to that, the CFL team faced criticism for its name over the years, with some people arguing it was racist, offensive and showed a lack of respect for the Inuit community in northern regions of Canada and the U.S. But not all felt that way — some in the Inuit community felt pride over the Eskimos name. The tipping point came when sponsors threatened to pull their support. Now, the team's leadership is bringing the Eskimos name back — well, sort of. 'We are going to be proud of the Eskimo era of this franchise,' said Chris Morris, 56, who was appointed the team's president and chief executive last year. Morris also wore the green and gold for 14 seasons, as a linebacker from 1992 to 2005. 'For one reason or another, over the last few years, the term 'Eskimos' internally here in this organization has been stricken further and further from how we talk about ourselves,' Morris said. The leader made the comments on Monday at an event welcoming longtime equipment manager Dwayne Mandrusiak back to the club, after he was sacked a few years ago. 'Over the years, we've forgotten elements of our history. And with Dwayne coming back here, that will return,' Morris said. Story continues below advertisement 1:38 Dwayne Mandrusiak back with the Edmonton Elks 'We are done hiding in the shadows from something that really isn't something to be afraid of: 14 Great Cup Championships, the most incredible fan support, and I apologize to our fans, for over the years somehow being villainized for being called the Eskimo fan base.' Get daily National news Get the day's top news, political, economic, and current affairs headlines, delivered to your inbox once a day. Sign up for daily National newsletter Sign Up By providing your email address, you have read and agree to Global News' Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy Morris stressed the team won't be ditching the Elks name on the gridiron, but rather is going to stop pretending the Eskimos name never existed. 'Internally, we will use the term 'Eskimos' because we are proud of that history as an organization that did some many great things,' he said, explaining he wants the Eskimos name to be associated with the excellence achieved under it. 'We are honouring the past of this organization. We … honour what was great.' Tweet This Click to share quote on Twitter: "We are honouring the past of this organization. We … honour what was great." Some of the changes include putting back up a sign over the entrance of the team's locker room saying, 'Once an Eskimo, always an Eskimo.' Story continues below advertisement 'It was a brotherhood, it was a way of doing things, it was the sign that you were part of something bigger than yourselves, which made a difference not just on the field, but in the community,' Morris said. The team's vintage fire truck that used to make laps around the field after a touchdown will also have the Eskimos name put back on. 'We are proud of that history, and we are going to embrace it moving forward.' Tweet This Click to share quote on Twitter: "We are proud of that history, and we are going to embrace it moving forward." 4:51 Edmonton's CFL team reviewing controversial name amid public pressure Reaction to the announcement was mixed. Lifelong football fan Kimberly Tologanak wants the team to ditch the name 'Elks' and return to its roots. 'Inuit that hunt polar bears and warriors, that's the strong people,' Tologanak said. 'Edmonton Eskimos are a strong team and I think it goes with who we are as Eskimos. Story continues below advertisement 'The team is strong and resilient like Inuit people.' Tweet This Click to share quote on Twitter: "The team is strong and resilient like Inuit people." The Inuk woman moved to Edmonton 25 years ago said the former name made her proud. 'To me, I grew up with being known as an 'Eskimo,' so that's what I knew,' the passionate fan said, adding people she knows up north were also proud of the name. 'It doesn't offend me.' 4:22 Len Rhodes says dropping 'Eskimos' name was inevitable for Edmonton football team But not all people of her heritage feel that way. Tupaarnaq Kopeck is Inuit and grew up in Greenland before moving to Denmark, where she first learned of the negative connotation attached to the word 'Eskimo.' 'It was used against me as a slur, as a dehumanizing word against me and my people,' Kopeck said. Story continues below advertisement She now lives in Spruce Grove and said her heart started racing when she heard the team would be using 'Edmonton Eskimos' again in some capacity. She said many in the Inuit community consider the word racist. 'Words have power,' Kopeck said, adding she was happy when the team changed its name in 2020, even while acknowledging amongst her own community members there's no consensus on how one should feel about the former name. 'I think they should invite a group of Inuit and hear their thoughts and talk to them, have conversations. That's important.' She said she understands there's great nostalgia attached to the former name for some fans, but argued it's a step backward for reconciliation with the Indigenous community. 'There's people in the Elks that have those beliefs — I don't think I want to support that, if that's what they truly believe. That makes me really sad and upset.' 4:20 Consumers push businesses for change when it comes to race, inclusion On Monday, Morris apologized to fans for being villainized. Longtime fan Troy Lutz said that comment resonated. Story continues below advertisement 'Any time you use the word 'Eskimos' on Facebook, there's people attacking you —people that didn't care about the game,' he said. Tologanak said she would love to see the team lean into the old name more by celebrating Inuit culture or hiring more Inuit people. But what she wants the most: a winning team that gets more people in the seats at Commonwealth Stadium. 'Our team hasn't been doing very well since the name change. The fan base has gone down, I think.'
