Immigration in NYC during the Ellis Island Era

First vlog!  (So, be patient as I learn the ropes, ok?)  This is based on a November, 2011, trip (Planning the Education Vacation or Extended Field Trip Using NYC as a Case Study).  You can view it  here or at the Brush off the dust! History now! YouTube page.

I wanted to also provide  the following recommendations for this subject and exploring it in NYC:

1. The Lower East Side’s Tenement Museum
2. The Museum of Jewish Heritage
3. The Museum of Chinese in America
4. The Statue of Liberty
5. Ellis Island
6. The New York Historical Society

(Follow them on Twitter, too!)

 

Why I Travel (A historian’s perspective)

On the way down to the Smithsonian’s National Zoo holiday Zoolights festival, I had a conversation with my sister-in-law about why she disliked zoos and aquariums (and for similar reasons the study of anthropology, but I disagree with her premises, so we’ll just skip it this time).  The gist of it was that she would rather experience a giraffe sighting in its natural environment than on display in a zoo.  In fact, she would simply rather experience the world than see it on display.

Roman road built in Ephesus

I understand her point.  I learned about the Roman Empire, watched documentaries about the Roman Empire, and visited Roman sculptures and pieces of edifices in museums, but touching a Roman wall built in Regensburg Germany, walking through the ruined Roman streets and porticos of Ephesus, and descending down to the Roman foundations of Barcelona was an experience above and beyond anything I’d done previously.  (Ironically, I still have yet to visit Rome.)  My interest and previous study in history, though, helped me to better appreciate and understand the incredible sights I witnessed on my travels.  It was enriching on so many levels and inspiring.

As a historian, I want to travel to the places where “things happened” to see the lay of the land for myself–to observe the growth and the evolutions as much as the foundations.  Travel gives me new insights, inspires new understandings, and stimulates new questions.  Visiting Barcelona gave me a whole new insight into Emperor Augustus’s plan for Spain, into the presence of the Carolingian Franks in Spain, the pilgrimage trails in northern Spain tied to Santiago de Compostella, and the post-exploration Spanish world.  No way could I have gotten two thousand years of history in a week without having visited the city.

Lonely Planet used to have a bumper sticker that read, “DO SOMETHING GREAT FOR YOUR COUNTRY.  LEAVE.”  There are many good arguments for traveling–especially in our ever-shrinking world–but, I recognize that not everyone has the opportunity or the inclination.  As for opportunity, I am grateful for the libraries and museums, zoos and aquariums that expose folks to the world beyond–many free of charge or for a small fee.  But, a lack of inclination is our fault, collectively, as parents or educators, society at large.  Even when we cannot afford to travel with our classes or families, we can challenge our kids to think about what is beyond their small world, ferment curiosity, and dare them to dream and plan to explore grand things and distant places.

Our world is enriched when our citizens are global, or at least can think globally, a mindset that is also necessary for a country of disparate immigrant populations living together.  Networks exist all over the world to bind us together and facilitate travel and experience.  We should be explorers, conquerors of challenging terrain, and eager life learners.  Good education, and history in particular, I believe, should facilitate the growth of such citizens.  My daughter should be excited to see a Roman ruin in person because she understands something of the vastness and greatness of the Roman Empire.  Her prior learning should enrich her personal experience and her travel experiences should inspire more learning and curiosity.  That is the beauty of travel for me: it is touching history.  In addition to those old standby perks: cuisine, culture, music, architecture, art, new people, geography, exotic animals, etc.  I love travel because I love wonder and curiosity.

Planning the education vacation or extended field trip — using NYC

We just returned from an awesome trip to New York City.  It was made possible by a conference my spouse attended for work, allowing us to stay in Manhattan.  While we only had two full days, we made the most of the time, with one of the crowning achievements being our Thursday spent looking at immigration.  It was a full day, no doubt, but a really unique experience in a city that has so much to offer in that vein.   I was able to cheat a little, drawing on my experience as a program instructor for the Close Up Foundation’s New York Programs, but the process is certainly replicable!

Select your theme

Photograph of immigrants arriving in New York City (Ellis Island)

New York City has a long history, so if this city is your destination you’ve a lot of potential subjects from which to choose: architecture, finance, immigration, urban studies, terrorism, drama, etc., etc.  For your trip you might select the subject because of the city, or the city because of the subject.  We knew we were going to New York City, so I chose the subjects, in particular Thursday, accordingly.  Given enough planning a trip to another city or to the closest city can be rich with multi-disciplined projects.  For example, in wrapping up the trip, we are going to look at the science of building skyscrapers (Manhattan), compare the early art styles of Western Civilization (the Metropolitan Museum of Art) and a themed summary of our “immigration day”–that’s science, math, art, and history.

So, select your themes.  Then do your homework.  If you search for books of walking tours of New York City on Amazon.com you’ll get 153 results–and, that is without the tours provided in association with the local historical societies, museums, community organizations, tourism bureaus and websites.  My decision to focus on immigration for one day of education vacation was simple: 1) it is a huge element of New York City’s identity, 2) it includes places and sites that are signature destinations for visitors to the city, and 3) it was accessible, working well with our hotel’s location and public transportation.

In New York City, immigration is hugely representative of the city.  Other cities might  different themes.  Consider the following:

• Washington, DC – U.S. government, civil involvement and responsibility, founding principles
• Pittsburgh, PA – second industrial revolution, American industry barons, workers movements and unions, philanthropy
• Chicago, IL – development of frontier America, American urban development, western industry, environment changes
• Atlanta, GA – Civil Rights movement, Old South vs. New South, urban community-building, urban image-building, representative government
• New Orleans, LA – city planning and design, transitioning identities, Civil Rights, Hurricane Katrina as a case study for government involvement, crisis management, recovery
• San Francisco, CA – Spanish colonization, gold rush in building the American West, Chinese in America, Japanese Interment, HIV/AIDs (carefully!!), 1960s and hippie movement

These cities feed these themes well.  Obviously, I chose major cities, but similar focuses and opportunities exist for smaller cities or larger towns (including many in your own town or city!!), such as Williamsburg VA, Gettysburg PA, Taos NM, and Colorado Springs CO.  But, the advantage of your theme should be in your ability to focus on its applicability in the city, ability to stick to your time allowance, affordability, and inclusion of sites that most people would want to see when visiting the city.

Logistics

We took the ferry to Liberty Island and Ellis Island from Battery Park (NYC)

As time allowance goes, check with public transportation if you are not busing.  If you are busing take some time to look at local traffic sites and get a sense for how long you will actually be commuting–check the tourism board, too, because they are there to serve you.  The occasional long ride is ok, but build some of your program into it.  Just because students are on the charter bus does not mean they have to be checked out or on down time, but having said that, they will occasionally need a chance for a mental break.  Families have the advantage, here.  Public transportation and walking are great ways to get in touch with the city you are visiting, giving you constant contact with place you are visiting, but also offering an opportunity to relax and (hopefully) get off your feet.  It does require you to do some planning in advance to be confident.  (The smart phones and apps have some limitations, so have a back up!)

Make sure you can adjust to the weather and the conditions you face.  Encourage students to carry a backpack or shoulder bag with another layer, a snack and a water bottle, in addition to cameras and wallets.  Make the decision in advance: if it rains are you packing it in?  If not, how will you deal with the rain?  I had papers that were part of my immigration tour, so I knew I would need to balance the use of that with rain cover if the weather turned foul (as it turned out, raining was minimal, but cold and wind were a little more intense and challenged the learning experience).

Most of us do not walk anymore (unless we live in a city already or have a regular exercise program), so the necessary walking involved in an educational tour of a city or a section of a city is sometimes a challenge to everyone involved.  If possible, you may want to add a bit of walking into your preparation–maybe there is an opportunity to compare the city you are visiting with a nearby city or home town, that will get you walking in advance of the trip.

Preparing the student(s)

Statue of Frederic Auguste Bartholdi who designed the Statue of Liberty and imbued her with symbols

For our immigration tour, my daughter looked at National Park Service documents, printouts and worksheets, including a history of the Statue of Liberty, her symbolism, and the immigration test.  (In history, we are covering Western Civilization, so we were focused on a handful of exhibits in the Metropolitan Museum of Art–part of her work along the way has included Art History readings, so she was able to make comparisons and identify different features in the art we viewed.)  I also gave her a values matrix, where I asked her to rate what features were important considerations for accepting immigrants and then apply those to possible cases to evaluate the intended or unintended outcomes of her policies–in the wrap up she will be asked to consider how the country regarded those values over time for immigration.

The student(s) should not be thrown into the content without some prior experience.  The visit should take the student to the next step, not serve as an introduction.  So, it is important not to neglect preparation.  By the same token, the visit should not serve as the end of the learning experience–it is a portion of the overall whole.  I know of a teacher who sent his students to investigate New Deal architecture in their home city; had he simply sent them out, even with a “script” of sorts, the experience would not represent a genuine learning experience, just an oddball field trip.  Success requires preparation and reflection, or, even better, preparation, project, and reflection.

Our Immigration Thursday in NYC

A mural of the Jewish immigrant experience in the Lower East Side (building rumored to be scheduled for demolition)

We began our day by heading to Battery Park, taking the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island–we paid for the audio tours and they were a pretty big hit!  The ferries leave at regular intervals so it is easy to adjust to one’s schedule.  (The ferries and each island also had food options for either snacks or meals.)

From there we picked up a city bus–the driver was really helpful and gracious to us–and headed in the direction of the Tenement Museum and New York City’s Lower East Side.  We probably had the time to visit the museum, but this trip it was not in our shoe-string budget, so we walked past it and headed over to the walking tour I had planned which included a number of immigrant-rich sites looking at the history of Jewish immigration.  From there we walked to Little Italy.  While Chinatown is not technically in this area, it has effectively overlapped into other neighborhoods, so we saw quite a bit of Chinatown; this demonstrates the shift from Italian immigrants to a newer wave of Chinese immigrants.  While these neighborhoods have history associated with specific ethnic groups, the natural diaspora of immigrants a few generations removed from their old country tends to lead immigrant neighborhoods to evolve and change.  We concluded our evening at the Museum of Chinese in America (MOCA)–which has free admission on Thursdays (for the time being, at least).

This was a lot to cover!  It is a bit exhausting, but the beauty is that we covered sites and neighborhoods that are popular sites and asked penetrating questions about immigration policy.  Each site fed the next and asked questions about what it means to be an immigrant and how we should handle immigration.  This creates a bonded chain that links preparation to reflection.  It’s a great way to learn.

Sign for a beauty parlor near Little Italy and Chinatown

Using memorials and monuments educationally, not “indoctrinationally”

The Thomas Jefferson Memorial (as seen from the MLK Memorial, across the Tidal Basin)

In my last post I raised some of the challenges that present themselves to the public in the case of memorials and monuments and with public memory in general.  These were meant for every citizen approaching any memorial.  In this post, I am specifically writing about how we can make use of these in education.  As is often the case, the challenges here are the opportunities, as well.

The first thing is to remember, that memorials and monuments reflect at least two points in time: the historical event (or life) and the creation of the memorial/monument.  Both must be accounted for in making a successful historical visit.  (Note the important difference between memorials and landmarks!  The Alamo may stand today as a memorial for many things, but it is the same edifice that stood during the battle—it is not an artifice constructed in memoriam.)  When visiting a memorial with students, they should be given the tools to engage with the memorial in the most productive way.  In other words, we want to fuel students’ reflections on people or events, as opposed to blindly accepting the portion of the story or legacy that the memorial presents; we want to encourage thoughtful and informed criticism, not senseless iconoclasm; we want students to engage the artist/designer in dialogue regarding the legacy of the memorialized person or event; we want the students to exercise the tools of history and try to honestly understand the person or event and the contemporary era.

Walking into a monument can be like walking into a small party of closely-knit friends, sometimes it is hard to engage it; the symbolism is wrought into the design so plainly, it is like trying to follow a conversation laced with inside-jokes and private innuendos all the while being left out of the laughter.  There are two reasons the symbolism seems illusive to students: inexperience with cultural tropes and a lack of understanding surrounding the event.  There is a third reason applied to a larger audience than students, namely the development of esoteric conceptions of the artist or designer which require explanation from the artist or interpretive guide—these are rarely self-explanatory even if one is an adept in tropes or well-versed in the relevant history.  (For example, at the new MLK Memorial, the Mountains of Despair and the Stone of Hope are far from obvious without explanation being provided.)  Most memorials have attendant materials, websites or guides to explain their design.  These should be explored after the necessary prep work, but before or in conjunction with the memorial visit.

The Vietnam Memorial: a simple design, but laden with symbolism, including subsequently added elements

Perhaps it is not surprising that many memorials and monuments go up in honor of controversial people/events or those with controversial elements.  If one considers the National Mall alone, there are numerous examples.  By tasking the students with learning a debate and then engaging it, one creates circumstances for which the memorials and monuments are made more interesting.  For example, before visiting the Lincoln Memorial students can engage in debates about whether or not Lincoln’s actions in the Civil War eroded states’ rights, whether he was justified in suspending habeas corpus, or whether he was prejudiced himself (and, if so, did he evolve)—all questions that have been raised in our national memory of the man during the event.  Each remembered person or event has its own historical nuances embedded within its consciousness.  To see whether or not a memorial engages these nuances once a student has delved into the debate himself is rewarding on several levels.

The other side of the memorial coin is the time in which it is built.  The Lincoln Memorial is not dedicated until 1922.  By this time, the age of segregation has been reinforced in the highest court of the land and the last of the Civil War vets have passed away.  This memorial is unique among most of the others on the Mall, of course, because it would serve as a stage in future Civil Rights efforts and many other causes.  The adoption or absorption of the Lincoln legacy into the causes of other groups is an interesting phenomenon in and of itself.  It is probably worth noting that elsewhere, around the same time as the Lincoln memorial commission and dedication, other cities were building memorials to Confederate and Union officers.  At the dedication, the crowd was in segregated seating.

So, when visiting a memorial or monument, the person or event has to be adequately covered before the visit.  Where possible, engage the student in an existing debate—either one that is legitimately scholarly or one that has developed culturally around legacy.  One useful activity is to ask how the students would design a memorial to the event of the person—noting the possibility that they may rather have someone else: John Adams, for example, instead of Thomas Jefferson.  What would they emphasize?  (Note: this can be turned into a larger project that would include going through the planning procedures for an actual monument considering petitioning responsible governments, funding, location, civic response groups, etc.)  Another activity is to tap into student interests and have the class create a “museum” to the subject of the memorial that may ask questions the memorial neglected.  (More on student-made “museums” elsewhere.)  As I suggested on my blog, quote selections is another great way to introduce the memorial or monument—I particular recommend this activity to visitors of the MLK Memorial in DC.  After carefully researching an individual’s writing, what quotes would best represent him or her?  This can be used with events, too, as each event is surrounded by historical predecessors and people who made noteworthy commentary—it is not a requirement that quotes be positive depending on what is being reflected.  (A part of me has always regretted that none of the language from FDR’s executive order which initiated the Japanese Internment was included in the memorial—how we can commit atrocities is almost as important as remembering that we have succeeded in doing so.)

The National Park maintains the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial and provides literature for the memorial

One of the reasons I suggest debates, is because of the staying power researching and supporting an argument has with students.  It demands reading, listening, writing and the gathering of evidence for the purpose of formulating the argument.  On the one hand, these are essential skills for everyone to possess; on the other hand, the process and information is lasting.  If students further engage each other’s arguments through assigned reading of each other’s papers during draft phases, the debate becomes more powerful, still, and ferments in their minds allowing them to bring really informed outlooks to the memorial.  This works whether you are considering legitimate scholarly debates about subjects or cultural legacy debates between regions, citizens and historians, etc.

Once at a memorial, there are a number of approaches that can be taken: 1) design a small survey for other visitors considering elements of the memorial, legacy of the event, knowledge that people bring to the memorial, etc.; 2) critique the memorial’s intent with its application: “does it successfully…?”  “do these elements call to mind…?” etc.; 3) ask students to analyze what the memorial remembers versus what it omits and further ask if this is just; 4) ask students if they think the memorial prompts further reflection or research; 5) ask students what a foreign visitor or someone from another region of the country (as applicable in some local monuments) would take away from visiting and exploring the memorial/monument—does this suggest success or failure for the memorial?  These are just a few of the options at one’s disposal, but the salient feature in all of these is to really reflect on how we are asked to remember, while considering what historical investigation suggests about the past figure or event.

If we accept that there is a certain subversive element in every memorial or monument—a design intended to direct your memory of X—than we can make an honest assessment of it.  Students will likely approach memorials the same way they do museums and history books: as authorities on the subject.  This is a passive acceptance of what is presented to them.  We do students a disservice if we allow them to accept without questioning and a greater disservice if we tell them to question without demonstrating to them the tools that allow them to ask informed questions.  Without those skills and lessons, we have really failed them.  We condemn them to either follow the herd like sheep or wander our city streets aimlessly seeking “change” without knowing what change they want or how to accomplish it.  Memorials, even more than poorly written textbooks or news reports, offer an excellent opportunity not only to teach about an event or person, but to teach about someone’s attempt to direct their one’s thinking.

The Korean War Memorial is in memory of the "forgotten war"

I am not arguing that memorials or monuments are thus bad things, necessarily, but take a look at Soviet monuments in Moscow or the Kim family in North Korea and one can see how it is that an attempt to “direct” thought regarding legacies can certainly be dangerous.  Naturally, American monuments are not the products of dictators—they are frequently the result of democratic processes, in fact.  As such I except the differences.  I do not think FDR memorial is akin to Stalinist programming and design, but I do stumble on his supposed legacy the most when I think of all the damaging things that are omitted from his memorial—his “Redlining” legacy is one of the major contributing effects to the decline of minority neighborhoods in our urban areas, for example, and about a mile or so away from his memorial is another dedicated to the American citizens of Japanese descent who were deprived of their rights by his executive order.

I think David Rieff’s article, “After 9/11: The limits of remembrance,” is an important acknowledgement of the challenges of memorial.  His statement that “the ghost at the banquet of all public commemoration is always politics,” is an apt one for a country that has always been run by two parties (for the most part) and their dissidents.  He is quick to acknowledge the need for mourning, but also asks when it is that we forgive and forget, and further queries whether or not remembrances inhibit our ability to do that.  It is fair to argue that memorials and monuments may be free of “too much truth” in the same way that Rieff suggests eulogies are free of such, but that cannot be the end of it.  Just because we omit it from the eulogy does not mean we should obliterate it from our knowledge or overlook it in our investigations.  This is the trick with public memory.  This is the challenge and the opportunity in teaching with memorials and monuments.

It is necessarily different than the museum exhibit which generally, though not always or not always successfully, seeks to be more conscientious in its consideration of history.  Frequently, museum exhibits ask challenging questions, while attempting to provide the materials for thoughtful consideration on the issues at hand.  In lieu of those aids, teachers must provide the materials and present the initial questions that stimulate research and thought along these lines in the case of memorials and monuments.

Signer's Island is in Constitution Gardens on the National Mall remembering each of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, all of whom would have been tried for treason

What to do with memorials and monuments? A reflection on memory

Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial - Washington DC

This past weekend, the new Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial was finally dedicated after Hurricane Irene washed out the original planned celebration.  As a memorial, it has been critiqued for some elements that seem discordant with the man it is supposed to be recalling.   (For my own review of the memorial, please follow this link: “Remembering MLK, A review and reflection on the new memorial.“)  This brings up many questions about memorials and monuments–controversy has swirled around every edifice that has been built upon the National Mall–some of which were raised surrounding the 9/11 ceremonies last month.  It has prompted me to consider the value and purpose of memorials and monuments, quite apart from aesthetic considerations, which I am less qualified to do.

Last month, in anticipation of 9/11 ceremonies, David Rieff wrote “After 9/11: The limits of remembrance” for Harper’s.  In it, he expressed a certain hesitation with the memorials and the planned ceremonial events in conjunction with the opening and dedication of memorials in New York City, Arlington, VA and Shanksville, PA, in addition to countless others unveiled around the country.  He stated, “The fact that the opening of the 9/11 memorial will mark an event that, to some degree at least, has been seared into  the lives and consciousness of most Americans should not obscure the fact that the ghost at the banquet of all public commemoration is always politics–above all, the mobilization of national solidarity.”  He goes on to compare this to the national holidays such as ANZAC day for Australians and New Zealanders (honoring soldiers who perished in the First and Second World Wars), French Bastille Day and our own Fourth of July as ceremonies that create “large-scale solidarity.”  Further, “It is about the reaffirming of group loyalty rather than the establishing of historical accuracy, let alone the presenting of an event in all its moral and political complexity.”  Rieff makes a valid point.

Rieff is judicious in his understanding of those who still mourn the losses suffered in the attack, but is critical of how lines are drawn between remembrance and history, if they are drawn at all:

It is important not to exaggerate.  Whatever meaning history eventually assigns to the attacks of 9/11–and though they are often conflated, history is the antithesis of remembrance–it is highly unlikely that these commemorative events will do any harm to America as a society, even if there is not likely to be very much to learn from it either, any more than there is from eulogies at a funeral.  And in an important sense, for the relatives and friends of those who died on that day, remembrance will surely afford some measure of recognition and consolation, though of course not of closure, which is one of the more malign and corrosive psychological fantasies of our age.  (The Latin phrase “De mortuis nil nisi bonum,” “Of the dead speak only well,” has often been parodied with the quip, “De mortuis nil nisi bunkum,” but this is wrong.  There is nothing admirable about candor during a commemoration, just something childish and conceited.)  Remembrance is not valued for shedding much light on the truth in all its nuance and ambiguity.  And that is entirely appropriate.  The problem is both the degree to which remembrance nourishes illusions about how long human beings can rememberand, far more seriously, the potentially grave political and historical consequences it can engender.  After all, to remember may not just mean to grieve; it may also mean to harbor a vision of securing justice or vengeance long after it is time to put the guns away.

~ David Rieff, “After 9/11: The limits of remembrance”  (accessed 9/9/2011 Harper’s Magzine, harpers.org)

Rieff continues, arguing that remembrance, especially collective remembrance is often the fuel that fires ongoing enmity long after it is due to fall away.  That Americans have let go of Pearl Harbor is evident in that no American is likely to have turned down donations following the tsunami because of that now “ancient” attack.  But, in the case of the Bosnian War, Rieff argues, would an ability to forget past injustices not have been better than the senseless slaughter predicated on collective remembrance?  It raises reasonable questions about memorials and history.  Are the two antithetical?  Does remembrance harm history?  Are monuments and memorials really valuable to the societies that raise them or are they detrimental in perpetuating myths and legends?  (His discussion about the real physical limits of human memory for grand events is less germane to my purpose in writing, but no less interesting.)

Smithsonian "exhibit" memorializing 9/11 for the Tenth Anniversary

In German, the word for memorial or monument is Denkmal.  The noun, Mal, means a “marker,” in this case, and Denk comes from the noun, “thought,” or the verb, “to think.”  (Ehren, means “honor,” and Ehrenmal is sometimes used to refer to a memorial, but it is not as common as Denkmal.)  Memorials or monuments in Germany, then, are “thinking markers” as opposed to simply being markers for remembrance as is implied in “memorial.”  (This should not necessarily assume that the German memorial looks or functions differently, but perhaps that there is a difference in the cultural approach.)  This is not typically how Americans regard memorials and monuments.  We tend to think of them as remembrances, which may imply reflection, but not necessarily.  The word memorial, literally means “to preserve memory” through artificial means whether by planting, structure, literature or other artwork.  Both memorial and monument are words of Latin derivation meaning to remember.  As such there is a real complication with memorials and monuments: if they are built for memory, how do we remember?  Might it not be better if they were built with thinking in mind?  Do we sacrifice history to a contrived collective memory, as Rieff suggested?

I think it interesting to compare the memorials that have been built upon the National Mall.  To the memory of individual people, the nation has the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the FDR Memorial and now the MLK Memorial.  Of these, the Washington is a mere architectural feat, a simple obelisk that could as much mean “Washington” in reference to the city as to the general and the first president.  The Lincoln and Jefferson are both completed in a neo-classical style—a reference to the classical inspirations for our government in the Athenian democracy and the Roman republic.  Each is adorned with the man’s quotes.  The Jefferson’s quotes reflect the conflict he witnessed and the rhetorical battle in which he engaged during the American Revolution.  Lincoln’s quotes are from the Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural speech—both prompting reflection on the Civil War and the injustices of slavery.  The FDR is similarly engraved with quotes, but is a sprawling affair that attempts to mark the historical events of his four terms.  FDR’s quotes, some of which are awkwardly truncated at the “end” of the memorial to make him more of a dove than a hawk, are those made during the great national crises of the Great Depression and World War II.  The memorial goes out of its way to represent the eras and FDR’s response—one may debate how successfully it is achieved, but the intention is clearly apparent.

Naturally, none are critical of the remembered presidents; the Jefferson Memorial does not acknowledge his slaves or affairs he had with them; the Lincoln does not acknowledge his suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War; nor does the FDR Memorial acknowledge the controversies surrounding his policies, his attempt at stacking the Supreme Court, his “secret” “Redlining” policy built into the FDIC insurance codes, or his executive order, creating the Japanese Internment.  Does this obscure history, then, to have these memorials which remember these individuals selectively?  What historical knowledge does the average visitor bring?  If they have little or no additional knowledge, is this the only side of the coin they have later in life?  Does this, in fact, perpetuate the national myths we prefer to the history about which scholars are reasonably confident?

Seen from the benches facing the northern wall of quotes and looking South toward the Stone of Hope and the Mountain of Despair

The newest addition to the National Mall and Tidal Basin is, of course, the MLK Memorial.  (Readers should note that I omit a discussion of the George Mason Memorial, honoring the writer of the Virginia Declaration of Rights—inspiring the American Bill of Rights, the first ten amendments to the U.S. Constitution—and one of the Virginian delegates to Philadelphia during the construction of the Constitution.  His is a small though pleasant affair, seated roughly across the road from the Jefferson Memorial, arguably off the National Mall proper.)  It is an unusual memorial in many respects.  Its original design was denounced by the board that must approve it, but any changes from it are indistinguishable in the final draft.  I will not rehash old discussions, here, but I will point out that the man who is famous for leading the Civil Rights movement, fighting unjust laws with civil disobedience, non-violent protest and religious sermons and speeches, is not remembered in his memorial for any of these things.  There is no reference to Selma or Birmingham.  There is reference to his disapproval of the Vietnam War and to a Nobel Peace Prize, but not to his experiences, sufferings or plans, not to his history.  The quotes that are used for his remembrance are largely ambiguous statements (in at least one case, misquoted), and while they are statements about peace, one has to wonder if this is not more of the same wishful thinking that Rieff referred to above.  (To see which quotes are included click on this link: “Which MLK quotations would YOU have included in the new memorial?”)

Do we understand from this memorial that MLK’s work is done, let by-gones be by-gones, better not to dredge up those old conflicts?  We are all at peace now, our two races, we have no more problems between us?  The work is done?  I can only imagine that these would be hotly contested notions.  Is better to move on, or should there be an acknowledgement of the courage to fight repression and injustice?  What do young generations really get out of the memorial?  What do they remember?  This case is not about acknowledging faults about a man who is nonetheless worth recalling, rather it is about remembering the collective faults of ourselves, a nation that legalized prejudice against a race of people.  Or is this one of those points, as with Bosnia, that Rieff mentioned for which forgetting is preferable to harboring vengeance years later?  If that is the purpose, it is does not have that feeling in the memorial—the sense is that the legacy has been high-jacked for the purposes of critiquing current conflicts.

So, what purpose do these memorials serve?  Is there a conflict of interest between remembrance and history?  Does remembrance only inspire legend or myth-making; does it only tell half the story?  Do we neglect history as a discipline that requires careful consideration and thought about what people said and did in a time that is not our own and differs in many ways from our own?  Is any useful understanding achieved from the visits and time spent in and among these memorials?  What do they teach in the end?  They are not museums, which share some of the same limitations—subject to the memorial plans of the curator and sometimes as guilty of ambiguous, laudatory memory—but which also have more historical information built into exhibits, more room to ask questions about past events and directly challenge the viewer as opposed to mere quotes and symbolic art.

It is incumbent upon us all to treat memorials and monuments, not just as remembrances of past peoples or events, but to delve into a greater understanding, to self-educate.  Naturally, memorials are themselves products of their time, more so than the individual remembered (there is nothing so astonishing—and yet, sadly, unsurprising—than holding a picture of the Lincoln Memorial’s dedication, segregated in its seating, next to a picture of the 1963 March on Washington and King’s “I Have a Dream Speech”).  Anyone who visits the MLK Memorial should take it upon themselves to listen to the “I Have a Dream” speech, should read the “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” and should understand the crucible that King and his colleagues created for this country with the Civil Rights Movement.  Many debate whether it or Thurgood Marshall’s legal battles were most effective in changing America—I think it is a debate each American history student should explore, study and weigh in on and while they’re at it throw the Black Panthers into the mix, as well.  Similarly, we should not enter any other memorial or monument passively and unthinkingly.  One should be able to arrive at the site and think about it, contemplate it and where necessary critique it.  Each individual must do the heavy-lifting alone, because these memorials are not designed to be educational tools, nor even necessarily “thinking markers” so much as they are memorials and monuments to someone’s contrived remembrance.  But, even with memory—which we understandably value—we must be critical, inform it and confine it with history.  It is necessary to be on guard, because even the lessons from our history classes can be overwritten with the strength of collective memory, infused into our culture with memorials and monuments.

The Lincoln Memorial

What MLK quotations would YOU have included in the new memorial?

Below are photographs of all the quotes (and paraphrases–see the controversy about that by clicking here) from the new Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial.

Are these the quotes you would have used if you were the memorial designer?

Follow this link to some of Kng’s most memorable speeches and letters.  (For my review of the new memorial and additional pictures, click here.)

Starting with the south wall of quotes, moving south to the end of the wall

The northern wall, moving north

The paraphrased quotes on the memorial’s “Stone of Hope”

Contribute  your quote selections in the comment section below and include the context of the quote and why you think it should have been included.

Remembering MLK, A review and reflection on the new memorial

The new Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial in Washington, DC

The genesis of granite is intimately related to the dynamic structure of the Earth.

I visited the new Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial on Wednesday, August 31, 2011, following the washed out dedication ceremony (because of Hurricane Irene) that was scheduled for the 48^th anniversary of the March on Washington.  There, I mingled with families, DC employees on their lunch breaks, student groups, Park Service personnel and other pilgrims.  The sun was out, radiating hotly off the memorial’s foreign granite.  Stone benches, shaded by the famous cherry trees, offered relief from the heat and a place to sit, observe and reflect.  Perhaps, that is when it began, a sense of satisfaction, and yet, upon reflection, the final piece has some discordant elements. One has the impression, after contemplating the memorial, that this is something good, but not quite right.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was the leading man of the civil rights movement.  He preached about “social gospel,” applying the lessons of the Bible to Earthly problems.  He drew people to his ideals and led his flock with speeches, sermons and Bible verses in the face of billy clubs, dogs and hate, linked arm in arm, singing.  We respect him for daring to fight for his rights from a society that withheld them, for demonstrating and drawing a nation’s eye to its own disgrace, for speaking to his contemporaries and subsequent generations about a dream and a promise land, and for risking to march unarmed in the name of justice.

The inscription carved onto the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on the approximate spot where King gave his "I have a Dream" speech

For such reasons, King’s fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha, initiated the process during the Clinton administration to build a memorial, like those of other remembered Americans, and add his likeness to our national stage in Washington DC.  Few men or their movements made such apt use of the National Mall as a setting for their cause.  In fact, it may be argued that every cause since the March on Washington has sought to borrow from its aura and King’s iconic status in bringing their voices to be heard at the Zeus-like feet of Lincoln.

The controversies that stirred following the memorial’s approval began, as it must for every new monument, with location and concern for preserving vistas.  It continued when the anonymous international competition selected Chinese sculptor Lei Yixin, whose past works include monumental statuary of Mao Zedong.  His previous sculptures became salient in the context of King’s memorial when the design was critiqued by the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts for being of “colossal scale and Social Realist [in] style…recall[ing] a genre of political sculpture that has recently been pulled down in other countries.”  The granite is also Chinese, not American; cut by Chinese laborers, not Americans.

Artist Lei Yixin's signature carved onto the Stone of Hope

Granite is the main component of continents; it is one of the oldest know rocks; and the geological history of granite provides the main evidence about the growth and evolution of continents through time.

In his famous “I Have a Dream” speech, given on the steps of the Abraham Lincoln Memorial, during the March on Washington for Jobs and Equality, King said,

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.  When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.  This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

As children in school, we learn simultaneously of the glorious freedom for which revolutionary Americans fought and the horrible bondage in which black Americans were enslaved.  King testified that glorious freedom was conceived long before it was achieved.  King stood on the steps of the Great Emancipator’s memorial and reflected on the evolution of our country’s understanding of freedom.  He believed in our ideals and challenged our resistance to meet our standard.

Across the Tidal Basin from the new Martin Luther King Memorial, sits the Thomas Jefferson Memorial

Standing on the four-acre granite foundation of King’s new memorial, one looks across the Tidal Basin and sees the Thomas Jefferson Memorial.  Jefferson’s original draft of the Declaration of Independence was edited by the Continental Congress to create the version that now sits, faded by time, in the National Archives.  The current composition is quite fine and most of the edits improved the document’s rhetorical art, but one of Jefferson’s sections, expunged to appease slave-owning colonies, was starker in its conception of freedom:

[King George III] has waged cruel war against human nature itself, violating its most sacred rights of life and liberty in the persons of a distant people who never offended him, captivating & carrying them into slavery in another hemisphere or to incur miserable death in their transportation thither…  Determined to keep open a market where Men should be bought & sold, he has prostituted his negative for suppressing every legislative attempt to prohibit or to restrain this execrable commerce…

From this early tension through the deplorable (but necessary?) compromises over slavery while composing the Constitution, we progressed to the Emancipation Proclamation of Abraham Lincoln and the post-war amendments that should have ended legalized racism.  And, then, we faltered.  Following the combined failures of the Reconstruction and the Supreme Court, laws were written to separate White America from Black America, without regard for equality.  The climate deteriorated until lynching would become a social activity in some places and photographed Klan members would eschew their hoods, unafraid to be seen with fresh corpses.  This condition would persist until Thurgood Marshall’s lawsuits, the civil rights movement and King ended it.  King, embodying our evolution, stood in the White House as President Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act, July 2, 1964.

The new memorial, across the street from its visitor's center

Granite formed in a number of different situations.  Some granite was generated in zones of rifted continental or oceanic crust, but most granite was generated in zones of collision between continents and oceanic crust, and where continents were amalgamated.

Jefferson’s legacy was born out of the conflict between colonists and the English government, embodied in the minds of revolutionary Americans in the person of King George III.  Initially, they fought for the rights they knew Englishmen in England already had: representation in Parliament.  A king who would refuse them their voices in governance and visit upon them, “a long train of abuses and usurpations,” proved how unfit he was to govern.

The unresolved conflict from Jefferson’s day created Lincoln’s legacy.  Lincoln, himself, evolved in his understanding of his duty to America’s slaves, finally issuing the Emancipation Proclamation and repairing his own country’s “train of abuses and usurpations.”  His dedication to correcting the disgrace rang out in his second inaugural address, shortly before his assassination.

The Lincoln Memorial includes Lincoln's second inaugural address, carved into the inner right wall of the memorial

King’s legacy was born in the collision of forces fighting for and against equality in a mess of unfinished business.  His goal, as professed in some of the twentieth century’s most beautiful orations, was for an America people amalgamated by common principles of freedom and justice for all, not divided by hatred among races.

Jefferson and Lincoln are remembered in marble.  Marble is the neo-classical artist’s stone of choice, so popular in the capital city’s art and architecture—a nod to the classical ideologies of representative government in ancient Greece and Rome which inspired Jefferson and his cohort.  But, since the end of the twentieth century, granite has become the preferred medium.  In both the Korean and Vietnam Veterans Memorials the black granite has been polished until it reflects like a mirror, but the granite at King’s memorial is different; it is rough to the touch.

If one enters at the visitor’s center one is funneled through its gates of white granite stylized as mountains, formally the Mountain of Despair.  As one approaches, one sees a matching block of mountain-like granite.  Upon it can be read, “OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN OF DESPAIR A STONE OF HOPE,” and beyond it the Jefferson memorial is seen.  In fact, the gateway is aligned along the crow’s flight from the Jefferson to the Lincoln memorial.  Once inside, smooth, gray granite panels form walls that reach out to the left and right in embrace of the Tidal Basin, bearing quotes from King’s body of work.  King is embedded in the Stone of Hope, facing Jefferson.

"With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope," ~ Martin Luther King, "I have a Dream"

Approaching the memorial through the Mountain of Despair, to the Stone of Hope; the Jefferson Memorial is in the background

Although superficially simple and similar, most granites reflect a complicated history of multistage, hybrid processes.  This complexity has led to a diversity of interpretations…

The design is born from one of King’s lines about a stone of hope emerging from a mountain of despair, not his most enduring aphorism.  When we think of King and mountains, we think of reaching the Mountaintop, we think of freedom ringing from the Rockies, Stone Mountain, Lookout Mountain, the Alleghenies and every Mississippi hill and molehill!  But, nowhere in the memorial is freedom ringing from mountaintops, none of these other promontory quotes is used.

No reference is made to marching in Selma or Washington DC.  There is no mention of a Birmingham jail cell.  No allusions to sit-ins, kneel-ins or boycotts.  There is no clear reference to King receiving the Nobel Peace Award.  Instead the quotes focus on lofty ideas, divorced from King’s real events—peace on earth, the making of a greater nation and finer world, unconditional love, light driving out darkness, the arc of the moral universe, freedom for impoverished spirits, and loyalty to mankind.  They are nebulous, uprooted from their original exhortations and deprived of historical context.

The northern wall of quotations from the Mountain of Despair; the Washington Monument is in the background

Much has been made of King’s pose in the memorial, emerging about knee-level from the thirty-foot Stone of Hope, staring at some unseen point of reflection, arms crossed with a document rolled and gripped in his left hand.  In The New York Times review, author Edward Rothstein suggests that the image is from a photograph taken by Bob Fitch, “that shows [King] with crossed arms, engrossed in thought.  But, here, the crossing of arms is a sign of something else: determination, perhaps.  Or command.  Monumental, not human.”  It would be disingenuous of me not to acknowledge that this is not how most people think of King.

The memorial has many detractors.  A quick search of our major newspapers will reveal numerous reviews declaring it deficient in recalling the man it is intended to remember.  Much of this criticism stems from the common challenge with which any monument must grapple, namely to discern those aspects that will be carved in stone.  This is further compounded by the lapse of time from the life of the person to that of the designer.  Here, the truth of King living with a culture that abused an entire race of people is lost to anyone who does not bring those memories or that knowledge with them.

Memorials are tricky things.  Thomas Jefferson is positioned to keep an eye on the president, with a visual line of the White House, symbolically guarding against the executive power he feared until it was his.  The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is dedicated to the lives lost and the survivors who visit and stare at the names of men they knew, seeing themselves reflected between the lines.  As a tour guide, I heard both ardent devotion and dismissive disgust from veterans as they gazed at it.  King’s memorial seems burdened by the present as it seeks to communicate the past and, in the end, is a bit difficult to comprehend.

Seen from the benches facing the northern wall of quotes and looking South toward the Stone of Hope and the Mountain of Despair

The memorial has also been widely praised by many and the obvious cannot be overlooked: the memorial’s existence is its best attribute.  Perfect or flawed, men and women of different races and nationalities basked in his presence.  While some, like Rothstein, see an authoritarian aspect, others see resolve; while some hear the whispers of Mao Zedong, others discern admiration from artist Lei Yixin—a man acquainted with government’s injustice; while some seek Selma, others find peace.  These do not render the criticisms irrelevant, but they do represent the memorial’s effect on many visitors.

I don’t believe any memorial is intended to stand alone in its testament to history, but especially in this case it cannot be permitted.  This memorial must be supplemented with a generous helping of history.  It must be appreciated in the context of disenfranchisement and violence visited upon American citizens.

The Mountain of Despair is regarded as the entrance, but I recommend against it.  Start your journey at the Jefferson.  Then, walk along the Tidal Basin, under the shade of the cherry trees (for this trip, skip FDR).  Enter King’s memorial from the Tidal Basin.  Listen to the other people talk about him, his legacy and his memorial.  Listen for older visitors sharing their memories.  Leave through the mountainous entryway and think of freedom ringing across the nation.  Walk along Independence Avenue to the Lincoln.  Step onto the plaza in front of him and turn in a circle, imagining the space full of people, shoulder to shoulder, clinging to trees and lamp posts.  Then walk up the stairs and read the words from Lincoln’s speeches.  On your way out, stop on the landing.  Where the granite stairs meet the marble ones, find the inscription that marks the approximate spot where King told the nation about a dream he had for us all.

The memorial as seen from the edge of the Tidal Basin, looking in the direction of the Lincoln Memorial

Visiting the Civil War in Frederick, MD

Tombstone of Confederate soldier Private George W. Boatwright

“The stone behind it should say the same thing,” says the white-haired gentleman down the way from me; he must be retired, I guess, since it is a little after noon.

And, he’s right.  I’m kneeling in front of a nearly 150 year old tombstone, badly faded, but just legible is the name I was seeking when I walked down the line of Confederate graves in the Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Frederick, MD.  The front row is made up of the original stones and behind it are newer headstones, more easily read.  Along the line of graves, between every fourth grave and its neighbor, are crisp new Confederate flags.

Confederate graves at Mt. Olivet Cemetery

“Do you need a marker for that one?” he asks walking towards me, but I don’t understand him at first.  He’s wearing a white t-shirt from a Civil War event and belted khaki shorts with white tennis shoes.  I realize he is offering me a Confederate flag for the grave in which I am obviously so interested.

“Oh, Boatwright,” he says before I can answer him.  “I remember him.  We had a ceremony a few years ago, for him.  My wife invited one of his relatives up here.  We had a ceremony,” he waves in the direction of the Confederate memorial, nearby—a Confederate soldier standing guard with his eyes in the direction of his fallen comrades, flanked by a full-size Confederate flag, “and my wife read some letters we had from him.  And, we gave her a flag, not one of these; a big three-by-five one.”

The Confederate Memorial in Mt. Olivet

He goes on, explaining that he is putting the small flags between the graves back out, “I came out here last week and there were twelve missing in the middle.  I came out again and then they were all gone.  No one can tell me why they were taken down.  I asked here—they’re good to us, here—and he did some looking and found’em up in the main building.  We put’em out once a year, but especially this year being the Sesquentennial year.  So, I am putting’em back.  No one can tell me why they were taken down.”  He shakes his head.

I am not interested in a flag and try to be polite.  My interest in this grave was from a letter excerpt I saw at the Battle of Monocacy National Park Service (NPS) Visitor’s Center, “The caption said he was buried here and I just wanted to come … and, pay respects.”

“I know what you mean,” he says, nodding.

*   *   *

Earlier that morning I had been at the NPS’s Monocacy Battlefield and Visitor’s Center.  Recently renovated, the building is constructed like a barn, except with a shiny metal green roof reflecting the sun and different materials for better insulation and climate control than a barn.  The bottom floor has the visitor’s information desk, docent offices and the gift shop, while the second floor is the museum for the battle.  The exhibit first explains Maryland’s place in the war.  Wedged between the Mason-Dixon Line to the north and the Potomac River to the south, Maryland was a tense zone between fiercely Unionist Pennsylvania and the Confederate vanguard of Virginia.

Loyalties in Maryland were divided, here, as elsewhere, but the state’s location made it different from others.  Out of the four candidates that ran in the 1860 election Maryland voted as follows: John C. Breckenridge (added to the ballot by those Democrats who thought Stephen A. Douglas was too moderate) with 42,497 votes, John Bell of the Constitutional Union Party with 41,177 votes, Stephen A. Douglas of the Democratic Party with 5,873 votes and Abraham Lincoln of the Republican Party with less than 2,300 votes, statewide.  All this, coming from the state bordering the president-elect’s new home on three sides, led to the Union effectively invading the state after bloodshed in Baltimore shortly following the secessions.  While Union sentiment grew under these conditions, southern sympathies remained strong in the state.  It was in Frederick, not the Union-occupied state capital, in Annapolis, that the Maryland legislature would vote on secession, concluding that they lacked the constitutional authority to make such a decision.

Monocacy Museum looking out at the old Georgetown Pike that leads to Washington DC

Twice the Confederate Army came through Frederick, MD on invasions of the North; twice it would fail.  The first attempt in 1862 terminated with the Battle of Antietam, near Hagerstown, MD, while the second ended with the Battle of Gettysburg in Pennsylvania the following year.  By mid-1864, the Confederacy was forced back to Atlanta, GA in the western front and to Richmond, VA in the eastern front.  But, to achieve this Gen. Ulysses Grant stripped down the capital’s defensive units for the advantage in troops.  Lee sought to use this and sent Lt. Gen. Jubal Early west and north around Grant into Maryland.  He hoped to shift the front back north, take Washington D.C., provide a victory for morale, and free Confederate prisoners of war held at Point Lookout Camp on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.

Maj. Gen. Lew Wallace (later the author of Ben Hur) would meet Early just outside Frederick City at the Battle of Monocacy, at the junction of the river of the same name and the B & O railway, with an inferior force, both in experience and number.  Wallace would lose the battle, but in delaying Early by a day, he would give the Union forces enough time to reinforce Fort Stevens, protecting the District of Columbia.  Glenn H. Worthington, a six-year-old witness to the battle from the basement of his family’s farm, would grow up to become a judge and spearhead the campaign to get the battle its due recognition and to preserve it as a National Park.  In 1934, the measure was passed in Congress, preserving the site of the “battle that saved Washington.”

The Best Farm

Today the Battlefield is accessible by car and foot, paths leading around the houses and farmland that was caught in the crossfire of Union and Confederate guns.  I biked from the Visitor’s Center under a cloudless sky, except for some high wispy ones sauntering across the blue, to the parking sites—the bikes are not allowed on the footpaths—and, spent the rest of my day getting around on two wheels.  All three of the houses caught up in the battle’s movements, the Best, Thomas and Worthington farms, can be visited, as well as the old Gambrill Mill site.  After parking one can hike around the trails and see the different fronts of the battle and lines of defense and attack.  The Visitor’s Center explains the battle’s chronology with audio and a model of the terrain highlighted with small inset lights according to the troop activity.  I started there.  The NPS maintains an authentic look on the grounds by renting the land out to a local farmer.  Archaeology continues at the Best Farm, including the excavation of slave quarters which predate the Best’s residency on the site, beginning just before the Civil War, and when the dig is open visitors can access it to an extent, but it was closed the day of my visit.

Each of the houses and the mill became field hospitals for the battle’s wounded.  Nearby, Frederick City, would function as one large hospital during the war, taking over churches and homes.  The city also cared for the wounded from major battles, such as Antietam, as well as the numerous smaller skirmishes in the hills of western and central Maryland.  It is perhaps fitting, then, that the city is home to the National Museum of Civil War Medicine.

National Museum of Civil War Medicine in Frederick, MD

Located in historic downtown Frederick, MD, lined with its historic houses and row-homes, on 48 East Patrick Street, the museum’s moniker is “Divided by Conflict, United by Compassion.”  It hosts two floors, seven thousand square feet, of exhibit space devoted to Civil War-era medical education, enlistment medical exams, camp life, evacuation and first responder developments, field care, Civil War-era hospitals, embalming and the modern military medical advancements.  As much devoted to setting the record straight as they are to general education, the museum curators emphasize certain myths debunked.  Principal among these is the commonly repeated line about surgeries performed without anesthesia or drugs, of which there were in fact many options.  Ether and chloroform were the most prevalent among these.

There is also emphasis on the development of the medical arts as a result of the damage done to the bodies of soldiers during the long war.  These include, most notably, the advent of facial reconstruction surgery and the advancements of prosthetics.  While these achievements are impressive, and my inner dork thrills to trace something so modern seeming to the Civil War era, I found some of the images a bit difficult to really study because of the mutilation that some suffered in battle.  I very much enjoyed the ongoing displays of Union Private Peleg Bradford’s letters which included much about the privations of the war and his experiences after being wounded.  Transcripts of the various letters are included and collection of them can be purchased in the gift shop.

Private Peleg Bradford's letters to home

Frederick City was located along the C&O Canal out of Georgetown, the B&O Railway and National Road out of Baltimore, which made it a good location for transporting the sick and wounded.  These transportation lines also made it a crossroads that both forces exploited during the war.  In particular, Frederick owes its early growth and significance to the National Road.  Developing into a “pike town” and then a small city with healthy farms surrounding it, reinforced its connection to Baltimore and the port.  This year the road celebrates its Bicentennial Anniversary.

Following the development of the city along the National Road, it grew further as a “canal town” and “rail town” becoming a city by the day’s standards.  In 1862, on October 4, following the Battles of Antietam and South Mountain, Abraham Lincoln would stop and give a speech of gratitude to the soldiers and the people of Frederick from a railroad car platform, thanking, “the good citizens of Frederick, and to the good men, women, and children in this land of ours, for their devotion to this glorious cause, and I say this with no malice in my heart toward those who have done otherwise.”  A plaque on the street corner, part of the Civil War walking tour, commemorates the spot where the speech was delivered.

The B & O railway station from which President Abraham Lincoln gave his speech to the people of Frederick

There are a number of walking tours, both guided and self-guided that will take one through the city’s historic landmarks.  Materials for the self-guided tours, such as the African American Heritage Sites tour pamphlet, and information regarding guided tours are available at the Frederick Visitor’s Center located at 151 S. East St.  In conjunction with a small exhibit space extolling the virtues of Frederick City and County, is a brief video focusing on the highlights.  Located nearby is the Museum of Frederick County History, housed in a historic residence at 24 E. Church St.  It also holds the city and county archives.

All of this is located in Frederick’s thriving historic district.  Still fed by regional farming, the city has numerous eateries.  The Black Hog BBQ and Bar, named after one of the rarest and endangered heritage breeds of hogs, serves quality BBQ in several American styles.  Café Nola, decorated by local artists, lending it a funky feel, serving Illy coffee and espresso with wide variety of breakfast, lunch, dinner and Sunday brunch samplings made from locally farmed organic produce, eggs and meat.  The Brewer’s Alley, which micro-brews its beers in-house and also sources its ingredients locally, and is housed in the original town hall, it continues a long tradition of Frederick beer brewing.  In addition to food, the downtown area has filled up with specialty shops, such as the Trail House, specializing in outdoors gear and a great hub of knowledge for exploring the wild environs around the city; and, Earthly Elements, devoted to rocks, semi-precious stones and fossils, as decoration or jewelry.  A healthy arts scene also supplies fine arts galleries, theater and music.  Just outside of town, the Baltimore Orioles’ Class A affiliate, the Frederick Keys, plays America’s pastime during baseball season.

Cafe Nola looking out on East Patrick Street

On the edge of town, just before the Francis Scott Key Mall at the I-70 junction, is Mt. Olivet Cemetery.  It is not the only cemetery in the city, and had laid its first internee to rest a mere seven years before the start of the Civil War, but is home to two hundred eighty-two Confederate prisoners.  Many of these are Confederate prisoners of war captured in the Battles of South Mountain (1862), Antietam (1862), Gettysburg (1863) and Monocacy (1864).

Private George W. Boatwright, of the 12^th Georgia Light Artillery, wrote a letter on June 4, 1864 to his sweetheart, Martha “Mattie” Jane Burrows, asking for her hand in marriage.  Five days later, at the Battle of Monocacy, he would receive a mortal wound, dying on July 12^th; Mattie’s answer is lost to us.  He was buried in Mt. Olivet Cemetery, drawing me to it as I biked back into town from the battlefield.

*   *   *

I ask the man setting the flags out where the Union soldiers were, and he explains that during the war, Confederates soldiers were not buried with Union soldiers.  In Maryland, there is another Confederate cemetery in Hagerstown, but soldiers not buried there could have been shipped as far as Hollywood in Virginia.

Biking through the battlefield

I bike along the car’s path, visiting other noteworthy graves, such as Barbara Fritchie, memorialized in a Whittier poem for her loyalty to the Union, and the World War II monument.  Looping back to the entrance I am passing the cemetery’s Babyland, when I come upon the gentleman’s spotless red GMC Sierra parked on the side of the road, where he is marking a Confederate officer’s grave with a flag.  His license tag is a Maryland Sons of Confederate Veterans vanity plate.  Exiting past the Francis Scott Key memorial, I think about two quotes I saw at the Battlefield’s Visitor Center that morning:

…It will be a glorious day for our country when all the children within its borders shall learn that the four years of fratricidal war between the North and South was waged by neither with criminal or unworthy intent, but by both to protect what they conceived to be threatened rights and imperiled liberty: that the issues which divided the sections were born when the Republic was born, and were forever buried in an ocean of fraternal blood.

~ Lt. Gen. John B. Gordon, CSA, Reminisces of the Civil War

We are sometimes asked, in the name of patriotism, to forget the merits of this fearful struggle, and to remember with equal admiration those who struck at the nation’s life and those who struck to save it,—those who fought for liberty and justice.

~ Frederick Douglass, Decoration Day, 1871

Considering the divisions within Maryland then, I have to wonder, still, which of these two gentlemen hits nearest the mark.  I have not resolved this in my own mind.

Serendipity: A surprise tour of Baltimore’s Basilica

The Baltimore Basilica, America's First Cathedral

We arrived at 9 am, but the library did not open until 10 am.  Across the street from the Enoch Pratt Central Library stands the original Baltimore Basilica, the original Cathedral servicing the entire United States, in 1789.  And, sitting in front of it, chatting in the sun, were three volunteer tour guides.  We were set.

We locked our bikes up and crossed the street.  There we were met by Kathie, our tour guide for the next hour or so, who showed us around and explained to us the Basilica’s origins.

Restored in 2004-2006 to its original colors and state of repair

We were introduced first to John Carroll, from Maryland.  His cousin, Charles Carroll, would be the only Catholic to sign the Constitution.  He was educated by Jesuits in Europe, but returned to the New World as his own man during the period of the Order’s suppression, as ordered by the Pope.

Archbishop John Carroll, first Catholic bishop of America, from his seat in Baltimore

Founded in 1540, arriving in the colony of Maryland in 1634 and being officially reinstated in 1805; this commemorative metal was added later in the Basilica's history

Carroll would be given the reigns for the new Church in the young country.  Here in the U.S., a diocese would be set up for all thirteen states, with its seat in Baltimore.

Pope's decree confirming the creation of Baltimore as the first diocese of the country

Through his connections in Maryland, but more so in the young country’s government, Carroll contracted Benjamin Henry Latrobe, important architect and designer working on the nation’s new capital, to design the Church.  Latrobe provided two drawings, one neo-Gothic and one neo-classical.  Carroll, proud of America’s potential and especially of religious pluralism, chose the latter which was to become emblematic of America’s pursuit of a republic and democracy.

Benjamin Henry Latrobe and his neo-classical design

Latrobe offering his services to Carroll, for the design of the U.S.'s first cathedral

Among the records from the cathedral in its early days are the records of payment for family pews.  In their original state, the pews had doors on them–this was also evident in other colonial churches, such as Anglican/Episcopal church in Williamsburg, VA.

Records of Charles Carroll's annual payments for his family pew

The record of Charles Carroll's death

Kathie also pointed out a statue of Mother Theresa, which was donated because of the Basilica’s history in American Catholicism.  In fact, Mother Theresa visited the church during the renewal of vows for the sisters in her order.

Statue of Mother Theresa

A few years ago, it was discovered that the crypt in the basement, in its original state about four feet high, was actually supposed to be dug out in Latrobe’s.  The work commenced with pick axes and wheelbarrows because there was no way to get major machinery into the space.

The Crypt (with several buried bishops of Baltimore) was original earth up to where the arches end. Old, historic bricks were acquired to match the aged look of the of the original foundations.

More than almost any other church in America, this church is as much a capsule of American history as it is that of the Catholic Church.

Letter from George Washington to American Catholics; there are also letters from Thomas Jefferson and James Monroe to Archbishop John Carroll

Babe Ruth with his mentor, Brother Mathias, CFX, from Baltimore's St. Mary's Industrial School for Boys, run by the Xaverian Brothers, invited to Baltimore in 1866 by Bishop Martin J. Spalding

The Oblate Sisters of Providence were founded in 1829, in Baltimore, by women in the African-American community for that community's children. Mother Mary Lange, OSP, the foundress is a candidate for canonization. This is a 1912 classroom of orphans in St. Francis Academy in Baltimore.

For more information, the Basilica has its own website with additional information, both historical and practical.

Lessons for History Teachers: How To Tell a Story Through Photos

How To Tell a Story Through Photos.

The how-to link above sparked a reflection on my part about how I can make better use of imagery in class–a challenge that has remained illusive since I started teaching.

While I use a large number of visuals in my classes, there are two things I do not necessarily do as well as I could: 1) use the images to help specifically break something down into an enlightening learning point; 2) create a narrative arc with available imagery to aid in student learning.

It is not my contention that every use of imagery in a history class should automatically accomplish those things, but I think there is real value in making use of such methods at least occasionally.  These are my reasons:

1. It mixes things up a bit and gives the students something fresh, now and again.
2. I sat as a TA in a history class, in which the instructor guaranteed that the PowerPoints would be available every morning before class and still watched students copy the slides by hand while the instructor covered important and interesting material to which they were not fully attentive.
3. Engage the familiar and the unfamiliar in foreign cultures (foreign because of distance, be it chronological, geographical or both).  This can be as simple as a strange object that serves a familiar purpose or as complex as a story with symbolism that meant one thing historically and means something completely different now (i.e. the ostrich).
4. Dale’s Cone of Experience.  Make imagery contribute to useful and usable retention!

There are other reasons but I find these most compelling.  When we get too ridgedly into a routine we can lose touch with our students, who simply glaze over or find other distractions.  But, if we occasionally take advantage of a narrative set of paintings to tell a story we can create a remarkably personal or residual experience that sticks out for the students down the road.

A guide for how people remember and how they can apply that memory.

If a concept is discussed in class, augmented by imagery and concluded with reflective class and online discussions (the latter which have the benefit of being written).  A student is far more likely to retain it and be able to use that information later–essential for successful scaffolding!

One of the ways in which images could be used better toward this end is in this post supplied above.  While it is written for photo-journalistic purposes and media, it has some useful points that history teachers can steal for their classrooms.  Some thoughts leapt to mind immediately for classroom application, covering different periods:

• James Meredith.  I first heard James Meredith’s story when I read about it in the Smithsonian Magazine’s “Indelible Images” column, in the 2005 February issue.  He had been a serviceman, graduated from the University of Mississippi, despite gubernatorial opposition, and now he was walking through Mississippi for Civil Rights.  The featured images taken by rookie AP photographer Jack Thornell took a series of photos of Meredith walking, jerking violently from gun fire and falling to the ground.  The opportunities for a photographic narrative that I just described are fantastic for learning.  1) Service photo; 2) university photo; 3,4,5) walking and being shot in Mississippi.  The students connect to his professional military service, his hard and successful completion at a university with plenty of hostility, and finally we connect the students to his brave crusade and his wounded humanity.   A sixth photo from his hospital and Civil Rights leaders is also possible.  He would survive.  He would finish the “Meredith March” through Mississippi.  A student will not forget that moment in time even though he was not alive when it originally happened.

One sweltering morning in June 1966, James Meredith set out from Memphis with an African walking stick in one hand, a Bible in the other and a singular mission in mind. The 32-year-old Air Force veteran and Columbia University law student planned to march 220 miles to the Mississippi state capital of Jackson, to prove that a black man could walk free in the South. The Voting Rights Act had been passed only the year before, and his goal was to inspire African-Americans to register and go to the polls. “I was at war against fear,” he recalls. “I was fighting for full citizenship for me and my kind.”

Read more: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/Down_In_Mississippi.html#ixzz1Dm7CmP3D

In the modern era where photography has captured so many moments, and caught them in rapid fire motion, it should not be difficult to collect images for a photo narrative–one that may even be enhanced by audio, such as speeches or radio reports.  But, going further back in time it may not be as obvious how one should proceed.  I suggest a few possibilities for story telling without photography.

• Saints’ Lives (also known as Vitae from the Latin word for “lives”), an essential part of Christian literature, are often recorded in visual form for illiterate Christians to learn, if for no other reason–and other reasons do exist for the genre–about the examples they set.  These are not required to be historically accurate to be of value–especially when captured in pictorial form!  A good medieval art book would be a huge help, as would museums, particularly if you can visit a local museum’s library and consult with their experts.
• The same goes for Biblical stories.  One approach would be to  analyze the artist’s contemporary culture through the presentation of such stories.
• I already use the Bayeux Tapestry to tell the story of the Norman Invasion of 1066 in addition to various written accounts.  Part of the task is to highlight the different interpretations of the invasion and what elements are actually included in the tapestry itself.
• Of course, there is also the use of photography/pictures from reenactments/reconstructed images, maps, portraits and images of the landscape–archaeological source may assist in this–but, it is perhaps less compelling than some of the other examples I mentioned.

View the article and see if the means and methods may in some way be applicable to teaching history!