Monday, March 26, 2018

What's History: Seeing It IRL

As I've mentioned, I'm currently on my research year, making a lot of short trips to different archives in order to look at materials (mostly old pieces of paper in various formats) that will inform my dissertation. Everyone's approach to research is different-- some people spend an entire year in one place at one archive; some projects are more heavily tied to a particular location than others. The process has inspired a great deal of reflection for me about the way that history is written-- no surprise there-- and about how to incorporate an appreciation of that complicated fact into classroom discussions of the discipline.

Types of sources are a common source of conversation and frustration in a history classroom. We can identify primary and secondary sources when they are clearly packaged (A Civil War letter! A recently published monograph!), but struggle to make the difference evident in more complex materials (A documentary created in the time period under study?). Reliability of sources is another point of challenge and is often dealt with by rigidly controlling the sources that students are allowed to use for a paper (only this book and the articles we've used in class, select two readings from this curated list, etcetera). So often we tell students to cite things not-the-internet simply because we're scared of letting it in with all of the confusion it presents. For a brief period, instructors could get away with saying that nothing on the Internet is a reliable source, but in the age of digital humanities such a proclamation is not just inaccurate but downright misleading. And when eventually these students choose individual topics on which to write research papers, they have no experience in choosing a good source. It is more difficult than we let on to explain the gentle nuances of why one thing is a good source for a history paper; another is not; another you can get away with, but only for certain projects. And then you go to a Very Nice Archive for your own research and find folders full of printed out emails and websites from the 1990s, and you chuckle quietly to yourself.

In short, there's a lot to be said about what can be done on the internet as far as research goes. But what I want to explore for a minute is the kind of things that can't-- the reasons why many travel to do historical research. This is not always a need that seems apparent to those outside of the discipline, a fact hammered home to me recently while staying at an Airbnb for research on the East Coast. I met several friends of the host, and as we sat around chatting over wine and the skeletal remains of dinner, I described my trajectory of travel-- Ohio to Buffalo to Northampton to Hartford to Boston to New York to Washington and then, who knew? I hadn't nailed down anything after that point. "But why do you have to go to all those places?" one asked. "This stuff isn't available online?"


The conversation stuck with me-- both for the crystal-clear image of this scene in Hail Caesar! that it brought to my mind and as an instigator for a series of thoughts about explaining why, exactly, one might still need to go somewhere else to learn something about the past.

There's the obvious, of course-- there are a lot of things in the world that haven't been digitized, and if you're interested in writing about people who have not traditionally been favored subjects of historical study, sources about them are often the things that haven't been digitized. There's also a material culture element. As I've alluded to in talking about scrapbooks, some sources provide rich information that needs to be seen and touched in person. Many scrapbooks include greeting cards with manipulable or removable elements, letters which have to be unfolded or turned to read them in their entirety, or photos attached by tape on one side with a caption on the back-- all features which are difficult to make available in a digital format.

There's also a sense of obligation which informs the practice of traveling for research, based on the idea that it seems dishonest to write about a place without having been there. There's an idea that the "realness" of the place, the culture, will rub off on you a bit and will give you insight into the topic. I have to admit that this is not a super strong motivator for my own travels, as quite often the materials I am looking at are not necessarily local to the repository which holds them, and as its all US there's only so much you can argue about local cultures before it becomes a little too wildly specific (I'll defend to the death my argument that OKCians and Tulsans breathe entirely different air! My own south side of Wichita is so unlike the east or west sides as to constitute its own planet! Urbana? I don't know her). In fact, my research is more focused on tracing a common experience than it is on defining regional differences.

Perhaps more useful is a reason I didn't fully appreciate until recently-- a visit to a place can show you the way people remember its history. I visited Warm Springs, Georgia this month to look at that materials still held by the Roosevelt Warm Springs Vocational Rehabilitation Campus (previously the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation, a leading treatment center for polio patients from the late 1920s to the 1960s). I was able to see the pools used for hydrotherapy and read a bit about the people who used them-- I even fully embraced the tourist experience and bought a bottle to fill with water from the famous Warm Springs. I walked around the still functional campus, which features pictures of former residents and a walking tour of notable buildings. Being there in person gave me an idea of the physical space occupied by people who have reflected on their experiences at Warm Springs in memoirs and periodicals. 

Although all of this is available for one to see and do at the Rehabilitation Campus, it is not the main historical attraction in town, and indeed I did not even discover that the walking tour was available until I arrived on the campus to check in. The average person passing through would be most likely to see Roosevelt's Little White House State Historic Site, which focuses heavily on Franklin Delano Roosevelt's life and presidency.



The Little White House. 
In addition to the Little White House itself, where FDR lived when he was in the area, and its associated guesthouse and servants' quarters, a small museum introduces visitors to the president and his time in the area. The exhibits there emphasize what role Warm Springs played in FDR's life and work, not just in terms of his physical rehabilitation and dedication to polio-related causes but also how rural life impacted his ideas about electrification and other New Deal programs. This is most dramatically demonstrated by the presence of a full-size electrical pole within the exhibit, with wires extending to a small replica cabin representative of that found in the area during his tenure in Warm Springs.


The pole, next to a wall reading "New Deal" and in front of one reading "Rural Electrification." 
The memory here of FDR the president is selective-- I found a single reference to Japanese-American internment, which appears on the timeline at the front of the museum and seems to be doing its best to make it appear to be an unrelated happenstance that occurred during Roosevelt's presidency rather than an executive order he personally signed.

The "World War II" section of the timeline with entry at top: "Japanese-American internment camps are created." 
More attention is paid to Roosevelt's experience of disability and the mobility aids he used. His adapted car appears in the center of the exhibit, and one of the last sights before you exit the building (onto a path with scooters available to ride to the Little White House itself) is a long row of display cases filled with the ornately carved canes that FDR received as gifts.


Roosevelt's last car at Warm Springs. 


The cane collection (and, naturally, my finger. Oops!)
So, this is a lot of travel talk-- how can we hope to make any of this useful in the classroom? Yes, I would love to send my students on trips around the country to see the current iterations of the ideas and people we've talked about in class (part of my impetus for starting this blog was, in fact, my desire to share things related to RTTP that I've seen while traveling with former students). 


Descriptions and photos of places can add modern relevance to a historical discussion. If you want to emphasize how history is made, an acknowledgment of travel for your own research can also be helpful-- how is the history we know and read shaped by the sources that happened to be available where the researcher was and the time they were there? For some topics, sharing photos of associated places can be useful-- when teaching the Four Freedoms in the US survey, I like to talk about the prominent role the Four Freedoms play in Washington D.C.'s FDR Memorial, and now I can supplement that with their appearance at the end of the Little White House Museum as well. 


The Four Freedoms wall at the Little White House Historical Site, including the Norman Rockwell prints of each.
Why did these words not only matter in the 1940s but also maintain staying power as part of the legacies of FDR and World War II? Why would curators choose to end this museum with this display (just before, of course, the gift shop)? What relationship do these words have with those of Executive Order 9066? Posing such questions can emphasize the continuing relevance of particular interpretations and sources to the neglect of others in public and local history.

But photos and stories can only be illustrative up to a point, and run the risk of feeling a little "look at my vacation slides." There are also more interactive ways to approximate the benefits of travel in the classroom. One option is to use local resources, like museums on campus with exhibits or objects related to the course. I was able to do this during Greenwich Village, 1913 last year when a professor teaching the game in another course set up a visit to the Krannert Art Museum to examine art from the period and suggested I come look at the same materials with my class. 


Another thing I like to do is encourage students to reflect on the landscapes they grew up in, have visited, or travel through daily. What echoes of the past surround them-- a street named after a local Klan member (or maybe a photographer)? A campus building named for a state governor friendly to late nineteenth century labor movements? How was the suburb they grew up in or the city they vacationed in over spring break shaped by economic boom and bust, struggles of race and class, or changing trends in transit, entertainment, tourism? Looking at the familiar in a newly thoughtful way brings benefits similar to those of traveling. 


Has travel changed the way you think about history or informed the way you teach? 


Related Links:
Would that it were so simple on Youtube.
If you like the Four Freedoms, you may also enjoy the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park in New York City.
For more on FDR and Japanese-American internment, check out this collection of primary sources from the FDR library. (Note particularly the mention of "various special interests" that would welcome the removal of Japanese-Americans from their land in Document 4, a frequently overlooked factor in discussions of internment, and Document 7, the text of Executive Order 9066.) 
You may also enjoy the innovative monograph Concentration Camps on the Home Front: Japanese Americans in the House of Jim Crow. 
For a non-FDR perspective on Warm Springs, have a look at the incredibly readable memoir Warm Springs: Traces of a Childhood at FDR's Polio Haven (available as an ebook with a Champaign Public Library card!)

Monday, March 12, 2018

Current Project: Paragraph Structure and the History of Intelligence Testing

I recently prepared a lesson plan for an application and thought I'd share an abbreviated version of it here. I really enjoyed coming up with this activity because it focuses on developing a skill that I myself continue to struggle with: forming writing into coherent paragraphs. This version uses early intelligence tests from the 1920s as a primary source for students to experience in different ways and encourage them to shape the evidence gained from their approach to the sources into a well-structured paragraph.

Below are the objectives of the lesson, a description of the activity itself, and the materials needed for the lesson. 

Objectives

Primary: Practice proper paragraph structure; understand the three critical parts of a paragraph (topic sentence, evidence, and analysis).
Secondary: Develop facility with forming thoughts into a structured argument quickly; understand that different levels of access to information can lead to different styles of writing or arguments; gain a greater appreciation of the history of intelligence testing and issues culture presents in measuring innate intelligence

Activity

Part 1 (10 min.): The class will split into three sections. Section 1 will be given the Alpha exam (App. A). Section 2 will be given the Beta exam (App. B). These sections, the “testers,” will take the exams they have been given. Section 3, the “analysts” will be given both exams and instructions not to take the exams, but to annotate them analytically (App. C).
Part 2 (15 min): Each student will use the paragraph structure worksheet (App. D) to formulate their thoughts about the exam(s).
Part 3 (15 min): Discussion and debriefing. Students from each group will share the paragraphs they created and consider the following questions together:

  • What arguments did you make about the material? Did the three groups tend to have differing interpretations?
  • What section of the paragraph was easiest/hardest to write?
  • How did you use the evidence you had at your disposal to argue your point?
  • Does the revelation of information from other groups change your interpretation?
Part 4 (flexible):  Students receive answer sheets (App. E). These can be explored by students individually as their curiosity leads. However, if time allows and if instructor wishes to extend secondary objectives, lead a discussion about what the context adds to their interpretations.

  • Did you find any of these questions difficult to answer?
  • Why do you think these tests are different? Is one of them harder than the other?
  • These tests are clearly culturally biased, which we can see in part because of the ways US culture has changed since the 1920s. Do modern intelligence tests have similar problems? Is that more difficult for us to see because we are enmeshed in the culture?


Materials

Appendix A: Alpha test (courtesy of archive.org).
Appendix B: Beta test (from Gould, 241)
Appendix C: Instructions for Sections 1, 2, and 3
Appendix D: Paragraph Structure Worksheet
Appendix E: Answer keys for Alpha and Beta exams (archive.org; Gould, 240) 

Appendices

Appendix A

Alpha Test. Text reads: Notice the sample sentence: People hear with the eyes (ears) nose mouth. The correct word is ears, because it makes the truest sentence. In each of the sentences below you have four choices for the last word. In each sentence draw a line under the one of these four words which makes the truest sentence. If you cannot be sure, guess. The two samples are already marked as they should be.  Samples {People hear with the eyes (ears) nose mouth France is in (Europe) Adia Africa Australia} 1 America was discovered by Drake Hudson Columbus Balboa 2 Pinochle is played with rackets cards pins dice 3 The most prominent industry of Detroit is automobiles brewing flour packing 4 The Wyandotte is a kind of horse fowl cattle granite 5 The U.S. School for Army Officers is at Annapolis West Point New Haven Ithaca 6 Food products are made by Smith and Wesson Swift and Co. W.L. Douglas B.T. Babbit 7 Bud Fisher is famous as an actor author baseball player comic artist 8 The Guernsey is a kind of horse goat sheep cow 9 Marguerite Clark is known as a suffragist singer movie actress writer 10 "Hasn't scratched yet" is used in advertising a duster flour brush cleanser 11 Salsify is a kind of snake fish lizard vegetable 12 Coral is obtained from mines elephants oysters reefs 13 Rosa Bonheur is famous as a poet painter composer sculptor 14 The tuna is a kind of fish bird reptile insect 15 Emeralds are usually red blue green yellow



Appendix B

Draw in what is missing.

Twenty images with pieces missing, including faces, objects, and animals.



Appendix C:


Sections 1 and 2:
Take this exam. You will write a paragraph based on your experience of taking the exam in part 2.



Section 3:
Analyze these two exams. What stands out to you about each? How do they compare? Annotate each exam with your thoughts—circling, marginal notes, etcetera. You will write a paragraph based on your analysis of the exams in part 2.


Appendix D

Paragraph Structure Worksheet

Use this worksheet to help you construct a paragraph about your material. You can work on the sections in whatever order makes sense to you. You will probably have false starts that don’t make it into your final paragraph. When you finish, you may copy the entire paragraph on the back of this worksheet, or just indicate which sentences should be incorporated into the final product by underlining them.
Use the following question as a jumping off point:

These tests were designed to measure intelligence. Do they succeed?


1. Topic Sentence: The thesis of your paragraph. What arguments could you make on this topic?





2. Evidence: This is a selection from the materials you have. What aspects of the materials stood out to you? Describe them.





3. Analysis: Take a look at the evidence you’ve identified. How does that evidence prove your argument? Explain why.




Optional: Is there anything else that a reader might need to know to understand your paragraph? Write that here, and indicate where that sentence should go with an arrow or a description.



Appendix E


Note: The worksheet and materials could also be used in other ways: for writing-focused courses, the worksheet could be reframed to reflect on different primary sources or used as a template to organize thoughts for a final paper. If one wanted to emphasize intelligence testing instead of writing skills, Part 1 and Part 4 could be undertaken without incorporating the writing focus of Parts 2 and 3.

Monday, March 5, 2018

Current Project: Because You're Mine, I Walk the Line

Photo by Jeff Putney.
As you may know, the Graduate Employees' Organization at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign is currently on strike (at eight days and counting, the longest in UIUC history). There have been a lot of beautiful letters and posts floating around about the strike, making articulate and reasonable arguments in favor of protecting tuition waivers, raising graduate wages, and making clear to the administration their dissatisfaction with their unwillingness to bargain with graduate employees. I myself did the opposite last week, canceling my usual weekly post both in solidarity with the strike and to give myself more time to participate in pickets and rallies. This week, I want to jot down just a few messy reflections on the possibilities for learning that the strike has presented (while encouraging you to also read some of the cogent arguments in favor of the GEO presented in a variety of places like the Undergraduate-Graduate Alliance and the fine folks on Twitter.)

Most obviously, the GEO strike has presented a lot of opportunities to reevaluate the value of graduate labor for people at all levels, even surprising graduate workers themselves. I know the value of my own labor, but did I know about the ESL courses that every international student is required to take under the guidance of graduate workers? Not before last week. Undergraduate allies of the GEO are reflecting on the role that TAs and GAs have played in their own coursework and highlighting these experiences in letters to the provost.

For me, the strike has also sparked thoughts about labor history and the way we teach it. US history courses often cover the labor movement, and for good reason-- as we are wont to say, their efforts in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries changed the landscape of work in this country (at least, I am wont to say so). An eight hour day, a weekend, restrictions on child labor, a living wage, workplace safety-- all things that the labor movement envisioned and made real. We do a lot of activities designed to highlight this contrast-- reading John Spargo's observations of child laborers and their dismal working conditions. We emphasize the differences in various union ideologies, bringing up a lot of unions with a lot of acronyms, like the IWW and the AFL and the WTUL and maybe even the ILGWU if we get really rowdy.

What most of us haven't explored so fruitfully-- what is hard to approximate in the classroom-- is the mixed emotional bag of labor activism. The strike has brought on for me an appreciation of how complex the decision to strike is-- both dreaded and celebrated. It has highlighted the spirit of joyfulness that the strike brings, and that as it goes on, you become closer to those around you. When teaching strikes and unions, I had been painting a picture of iron-jawed determination, but what I've seen in the past week has been more lighthearted-- a determination to win, yes, but also a celebration of community. I've heard this newfound appreciation of community from many people this week, and I've said it myself-- "This might sounds cheesy, but all that solidarity stuff-- I get it now."

It also takes you outside of yourself a bit. I saw a pretty apt sign last week that said something to the effect of, "Things are so bad even the introverts are out here!" The person that you are on the picket line, shouting chants and encouraging strangers, is not the person that you are every other time of your life, when you fear talking to other people or just wish you could go to your office without seeing anyone. Most weeks, I avoid campus when I don't have to be there-- last week, I was there every day.

I have never been able to get this sort of worldview-altering enthusiasm into my discussions of labor history, because I didn't really know it myself. The discussion is about that iron-jawed determination I mentioned above-- the ideals of Marxism, the rational reasons why one would want to work a manageable number of hours or have their children attend school instead of picking coal. I've never focused on the community building of unions and strikes, the human motivations of union leaders or members. Even the Greenwich Village game, which approximates so many lived experiences and ideas well, also fails to get across this experience of the labor faction-- its focus is on ideals among bohemians, not engagement in actual labor activism. How much more sense do the various enthusiasms of Leah Schwartz, Big Bill Haywood, and Elizabeth Gurley Flynn make when you've actually seen a strike in action?

So, one of the nice things about this strike, in addition to the solidarity it has fostered, is the insight it can offer not only into our present but into labor history for teachers and students alike. I like to think that the next time I walk into a classroom on this campus to talk about unions and labor, there will be a great deal more familiarity with these concepts among my students, and more appreciation of who exactly it is who organizes, strikes, pickets, and makes change throughout history-- people very much like us.


Related Links:

Title Talk-- I Walk the Line
A few links on the GEO strike: News-GazetteSocialist Worker, Chicago Tribune, Daily Illini.
For the monetarily inclined, a link to the GEO Strike Fund.