It’s been an entire year since I wrote the piece on hate mail.

At the time, it was my intention to showcase the all-too-common-but-hidden stereotypes and hatred directed at Native people. Using social media and this column to show this seemed the most appropriate.

Since then, the hate mail I received decreased about 98 to 99-percent! Incredible isn’t it? I think so, but I struggle to know if this is due to minds changing or that folks are afraid they will be revealed in a national publication such as ICTMN.

I guess we may never know, but one thing is for sure: folks are still angry.

Although I don’t regularly receive the outright hateful “you squaw” or “you are my redskin” or the “f*** you b****!” I do get harassed – a lot.

As far as hate mail goes, it seems that when people are behind the safety and anonymity of their computers they may be more willing to say what is on their mind. Whether it is through the computer or in person, I don’t think I should have to deal with it alone, and neither should others.

For example, some of the harassment isn’t the overt racism, but more annoying than anything. A year ago, I was inundated during Christmas. I guess it was a scheme to send me a variety of HTTR (Hail to the R**sk***) Christmas cards or something.

This year, I got bombarded similarly after the team finally won a game. Fans demonstrate how much they love their team and how much they despise me. I’m pretty sure there is a secret gathering where they plot all of this out, and then – boom! All at once they flood me with messages and posts. This doesn’t bother me; it’s strange, but then I block them. Or they disappear until next time.

These annoying and harassing messages and posts are just that – annoying.

What’s more compelling is the harassment, intimidation, and outright criminal trespass of my personal space.

I refuse to spend my energy on returning the hate back. While I don’t agree with the Washington team’s use of the R-word, I don’t engage in hateful behaviors toward Washington fans. I don’t go out and troll their pages or their Twitter accounts. I don't seek them out or send them harassing messages.

I also don’t Photoshop their faces and make vile-disgusting memes of them. I don’t steal their identity and create fake profiles of them.

I don't follow them around at stores or events. I don’t intimidate them at the airport, or elsewhere. I don't follow them around with a video camera and keep filming even when they say “stop.” I don’t stand across the street and take endless pictures of them and watch their every move, taunt and laugh at them.

I don't flip them off in their face, and call them names, berate them or their children. I don’t rally up my friends and joke about what I would do to them if I ever saw them in person. I don’t plot or tell them I am going to “get them,” and “take them out,” or “shut them down,” and I most certainly don’t spend my evenings on the radio talking about how I would “give it to them if I've ever seen them.” In this case, I was the “them” they were talking about.

It is very disgusting to hear grown men sit around and talk about how they would “give it to me” or talk about “how much fun they would have with me” if they ever saw me in person.

These are alarming, harassing, bullying, even sexually violent, and incontrovertibly hostile behaviors, which you’d hope would cease, but they have happened to me in this year.

Still, their constant bullying doesn't change my mind, and it certainly does not scare me into backing off.

I grew up on the rez. I'm scared of very few things, and none among them are trolls, fanatical football fans, or misogynists who hide behind their team or the so-called “80 years of tradition.”

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These people obviously fear large congregations of Native Americans, but have no problem harassing one alone, and isn’t that the behavior of a bully?

Yes, it is.

I would not be surprised if this time next year I’m penning yet another column concerning the bombardment of hate mail I receive from Washington NFL fans. But do you know what else I will be doing this time next year? And every year thereafter until the name changes? You guessed it: I’ll be fighting against a dictionary-defined racial slur that has time and again proven to harm the mental health of the youth.

So, as these crazed Washington NFL fans troll and bully and harass and taunt and creep, we, the responsible and informed, will continue in our campaign for the wellbeing of the youth because it is no longer about football – it is bigger than football. This is about shifting the mindset of our societal structure to view Native Americans as human beings and not mascots.

Amanda Blackhorse, Diné, is a mother and activist. She and four other plaintiffs won a case against the Washington football team that stripped it of six of its seven trademarks. Follow her on Twitter @blackhorse_a. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona.