Blogger Tips and TricksLatest Tips And TricksBlogger Tricks
Showing posts with label History Prof. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History Prof. Show all posts

Friday, August 18, 2017

F³ Lost Record

            Alex took a moment to survey the lecture hall, which buzzed with conversation, as always happened before a class began. The seating had shifted dramatically, though, with a large number of students crowding the front rows. Alex recognized many of those faces as ones that had asked questions and followed her to the coffee shop in the student union.
Good. Those are my most engaged students. The rest look interested, too.
Of course, she had the usual rows of slackers in the very back, most of whom had eyes focused on phones, tablets, or laptops.
“Well,” she began pleasantly, “hopefully now that we’ve got the Civil War out of our way, we can dive into a lecture I had actually planned out.”

Friday, July 14, 2017

F3 Aftermath

            As was typical after a lecture, students came up to ask questions. Usually it was a bare handful, most wanting to know about mundane issues like registration, the syllabus or the online learning management system of the university. And as soon as she answered one of those, the others filed out, having gotten their answer.
            This time, though, many stuck around for something more substantive. One student asked her, “What do you propose we do about Confederate Flags and monuments to Lee?” From her accent, it was clear she was from a Southern state.

Friday, June 16, 2017

F3 Historical Enquiry

            (This has been inspired by recent events. I figured rather than writing an essay explaining my feelings, I’d use this.)

            Alex surveyed the lecture hall, jam-packed on the first day of class. Visiting professors almost never got this kind of enrollment from students, but, thanks to the internet, her reputation preceded her.
            “Well, now,” she said, adjusting the position of her headset microphone. “The last time I checked only history majors required this course, and my roster shows that nearly half of the students in here have different majors. I assume that means you came for the, shall we say, ‘other projects’?”
            A murmur of laughter swept through the room.
            “I thought so. Well, anyway, Welcome to Historical Enquiry. Even if it doesn’t fit into your major, you’ll get some upper division elective credits. I try to make these lectures as interactive as I can, even if there are three hundred of you. So, how many of you, by show of hands, attended or watched a video of the special lecture about Robert E. Lee?”
            More hands went up than did not, which made Alex smile.
            “Well, then, does anyone have a question? Feel free to shout it out. I promise I won’t be able to identify and embarrass you in a crowd this big.”
            A low rumble of shifting and whisper followed, as was typical in any undergrad class, but then, someone got the courage up. “Most historians disagree with your theories about Lee purposefully losing at Gettysburg, that he was a staunch slave owner and not an abolitionist at all. How do you justify going against established facts?”
            The voice was male, and came from somewhere on her right, with an echo-y quality that made Alex think it was about halfway back.
            “That’s a good question. Most of my evidence comes from Lee’s strategies and his general sentiment towards the United States, but I have to take this to abstraction, first. You see, the history you were all taught—as far back as elementary school—was wrong.
            “I need to qualify this. As an example, let’s examine abolitionists and slavery during this period. It’s true that Lee was no abolitionist as you have come to know the word, but then I’m willing to bet no one in this room truly understands what the abolitionists were.
            “Of course, there were those that regard the word as we do today, wanting slaves to be freed and receive the same rights and privileges as whites. Sadly, those were considered zealots of the movement, taking things to the extreme. They were even called, ‘ultra-abolitionists,’ led largely by the Quakers and men like William Lloyd Garrison. This kind of thinking was not what most who called themselves abolitionists meant.”
            She began walking across the stage, deliberately walking away from the podium. Using her small tablet, she called up slides from one of dozens of prepared presentations and sent one to the room’s projector.
            “The literature majors in the room—and there are few of you—will most likely recognize this man as Walt Whitman, poet of the mid-nineteenth century. His famous book Leaves of Grass point that he was against the institution of slavery, and so, an abolitionist. But do you know that he was also an editor for The Brooklyn Daily Eagle? He frequently availed himself by writing editorials dealing with political topics.”
            She clicked over to the next slide, bringing up one of the quotes she had memorized. “In the September 1st, 1847 edition, page 2, he wrote ‘The truth is that all practice and theory . . . are strongly arrayed in favor of limiting slavery to where it already exists. For this the clear eyes of Washington looked longingly; for this the great voice of Jefferson plead, his sacred fingers wrote; for this were uttered the prayers of Franklin and Madison and Monroe.’ From these words, it would be easy to conclude that the man is a staunch abolitionist, working as hard as possible to stop the extension and progress of slavery to new states, possibly—many would hope—to lead to the practice’s extinction.”
            A murmur of agreement ran through the hall. Alex caught sight of a knot of students nodding their heads in a knowing fashion; most likely a knot of literature students clustering together for protection.
            “However,” Alex held up an admonishing finger, waggling it to caution everyone. “However, this is only part of the story. Earlier, in the same editorial,” Alex clicked to the next slide, “Whitman explains that ‘Slavery is a good thing enough, (viewed partially,) to the rich—the one out of thousands; but it is destructive to the dignity and independence of all who work, and to labor itself. An honest poor mechanic, in a slave state, is put on a par with the negro slave mechanic—there being many of the latter, who are hired out by their owners.’
            “Here we see that Whitman is not concerned with the moral plight of slaves, that it is wrong for one man to own another. Instead, he is concerned about ‘the influence of the institution of slavery is to bring the dignity of labor down to the level of slavery, which, God knows! is low enough.’
            “And while he clearly equates negroes and slavery with the lowest levels, he feels quite strongly about ‘the indomitable energy of the Anglo-Saxon character.’ So, yes, while he does want the practice of slaver ended, it’s not because it’s immoral, but because it hampers the economic development of lower-class whites.”
            The sound—as Alex liked to think of it—of epiphany rippled through the room.
            “Whitman was not alone as an abolitionist who didn’t care about granting rights to slaves. There is John O’Sullivan, who is responsible for the phrase ‘manifest destiny’ in his article ‘Annexation.’” Alex clicked to the next slide, showing the cover for United States Magazine and Democratic Review.
“He believed in ‘the eventual voluntary abolition of slavery,’ as simply a matter of course. However, he also wanted the ‘ultimate disappearance of the negro race from [U.S.] borders.’
“In fact, many Americans desired not just the end of slavery but for those slaves to leave the country, so much so that the American Colonization Society was founded in 1816 to establish Liberia, specifically for former slaves to emigrate from America. But the number of slaves far outnumbered what this small colony could hold, which is why O’Sullivan proposed ‘The Spanish-Indian-American populations of Mexico, Central America and South America, afford the only receptacle capable of absorbing that race [negroes] whenever we shall be prepared to slough it off.’
Alex paused a few seconds to let that sink in. “Whitman and O’Sullivan are not alone. I could go on, easily, dredging up articles and editorials from dozens of publications, not to mention what we would find in actual Congressional records on the matter.” She brought up a new slide listing the names of authors, editors, lawyers, judges, and politicians who published their thoughts.
“And these are only the written records we have. What about the illiterate and uneducated masses who voiced their opinions in local taverns and by their election of these officials to represent their sentiments?”
She brought up another slide, a giant question mark, meant as a time for students to ask questions, but she repurposed it on the fly. “The question, now, is, what is the history? The version you know from school or what I have just revealed to you? History as you have been taught it bears the immutable concreteness of carvings in stone. It is presented as permanent and irrevocable. It is also shallow and conceals the marble within.
“We are facing controversies now where many seek to tear down Civil War monuments that take up the side of the Confederacy. Tear down Lee and Davis; tear down the Confederate Flag. These are history’s losers, who were bigoted and not worth our remembrance.
“In doing so, it’s a glorification of the Union and their staunch support of antislavery and civil rights for African Americans, but as we have just seen, that is an inflated and romanticized version. It’s long been stated that history is written by the victor, and is often the case. Many civilizations would even attempt to erase the history of dissenting parties, seeking to eradicate the ideas they represent by banishing the legacy. Frequently, they are successful. But of course, history will repeat itself. The only guard against that repetition is to learn from the lessons of history.”
She brought up a slide showing the Mission Statement of US Holocaust Museum.
“We need reminders of dark times. We need to face that which makes us uncomfortable; denying and changing history to suit our sensibilities will only allow that history to repeat. We must keep our discomfort alive to remind us to keep changing.
“And I suppose I should finally get around to giving a more direct—roundaboutly, anyway—answer to the original question. I’m glad so many of my colleagues disagree with me. I want them to question my sources. I want them to examine Lee’s tactics, the words of his generals, and the man after the war the same as I did. I want them working hard to look for cracks to prove me wrong. Dissenting opinions regarding history are good. We must examine everything. We must advance ideas which are contrary to the established belief. Only by doing so can we chisel away at the unnecessary concrete to get at what is real underneath. Sometimes I am wrong. I admit it, but that is no reason for me to stop advancing new ideas. And I do so by the process of Historical Enquiry.
“The study of history involves looking at all sources, in delving into all records to try and shine a light on the past, but in addition to looking at records, writings, and remnants, we must look at what we don’t have. What has not been said that we would expect? An omission can be just as telling as what’s been recorded. We must consider the tapestry of history as a whole to look for inconsistencies in the warp and weft.”
She brought up section of tapestry where the threads were reversed over one another in one particular section, making a slight distortion to the overall picture. “Inconsistencies are rarely mistakes, aberrations to be ignored; they reveal something more, a larger narrative and truth to themselves.”
The tapestry zoomed back to reveal the whole picture, the Bayeux Tapestry, and several spots of inconsistency appeared, but also formed a pattern, that of a five-pointed star.
“We must look to the whole to understand the individual points of inconsistency. This thing I call Historical Enquiry is disjointed at best, more usually maddeningly frustrating as the patterns refuse to identify themselves. It is only by advancing unpopular and irreverent theories that we can hope to make sense of them.”
Using a blue laser, she traced the outline, and there were some gasps. “Don’t get too excited,” she cautioned. “I Photoshopped that in there to illustrate my point. If finding patterns was as easy as that, my job would be considerably easier.”
That drew some laughs, and Alex let it continue before moving on, and taking on a more somber tone. “The greatest tragedy, when it comes to history, is that one version is advanced as the version of history, a version which has such popular support as to become not just concrete, but forever enshrined in marble mausoleums. The study of history needs to be alive, not just because history is constantly being created, but because we must continue to uncover what that history actually is.
“When I see the current controversy regarding Confederate monuments, I’m saddened at the very idea. We sit in judgement from what we believe is a lofty, superior position without true understanding. History is not democratic; the number of ‘likes’ ‘retweets’ or comments it receives does not make it the most valid. That is the way of tyranny. History must have informed discussion, and be motivated by curiosity. We truly enquire when don’t know answers, not when we are sure of them. But we have poured the concrete and let it set in the shape we wish it to be. We create and elevate one faction while disparaging another. History is complex, and the reduction of it to popular, concrete sentiments is as damaging—if not more—as erasing and ignoring it.
“We must reveal, rather than conceal or obscure, our history, for only through such revelation can we truly know and understand history. The naming of dates and places is not history. The story, the full tapestry is what teaches us not just about the fact of the events, but the motivations and historical forces at work. To study the Civil War is to study what happened before and after. Stretch it back even beyond the earliest colonization to the roots of institutions of slavery among ancient peoples. Then carry it forward to the present day and see that sentiments are still present, that we, as a people, have not changed as much as we claim to have.”
Alex checked the time, seeing that the class was nearly over, the entire time spent on that one question. Only some of the students also checked the time, and fewer still started packing up their bags. “Well, I believe I answered that question in far more depth and roundabout detail than even I anticipated. I usually save this lecture for my grad students. I’ll have to come up with new material so they get their money’s worth.”
A ripple of laughter went through the hall, but Alex picked out several faces who were deep in thought, their brows wrinkled or fingers rubbing at temples as if to lend extra power to mental mechanisms.
“I had hoped to launch a discussion about what our first special project should be, but let me ask instead, who would be interested in pursuing the ideas of the Civil War and slavery?”
Hands shot up across the room, such an overwhelming majority that those who didn’t raise their hands looked mildly confused at those who did.
“Very well. I’ll generate some ideas for us to decide on for next class. Class dismissed.”

            (It’s long, I know, but I wanted to give a complete stance on this subject. For those interested, you can read Whitman’s editorial via https://www.newspapers.com/image/50252625/
            For O’Sullivan, you can read “Annexation” here: https://pdcrodas.webs.ull.es/anglo/OSullivanAnnexation.pdf )



Friday, March 31, 2017

F3 Waking from Another's Dream

            The lecture hall erupted in applause as everyone stood, giving Alex a standing ovation.
            She blinked, trying to clear the last of the vision—memory?—from her mind. She scarcely remembered what she had just been saying. It all felt hazy, like a dream, while the image of Lee penning his letter was vivid.
            Which is just absurd. While Lee almost certainly did intentionally flub Gettysburg, there’s no way he would ever put pen to paper detailing the deed. Burning the letter would be a convenient excuse for there not to be any proof, but we can’t use nonexistent proof.
            The vision was insistent, and had all the details just right, though.
            “Dr. Conrad,” A student pushed her way onto the stage, “How did you determine that the battle plan at Gettysburg was an attempt to make the Confederacy lose?”
            The question helped cut through some of the vision, and she remembered her own research. “Lee was at odds with Gen. Longstreet, and uncharacteristically impatient, especially to attack. When you look at the diagram and disposition of forces, it really makes no sense for Lee to press an attack, especially to the extent he did. Logic, then, suggests that something else was afoot. I’d go into more detail, but then you wouldn’t have reason to take my class or buy my new book,” she winked.


Friday, March 24, 2017

F3 A Lost Letter

            “Robert E. Lee, I believe,” the recovery was much quicker, but she couldn’t be sure how long she had stood there, mute, “changed the course of the war that day.”
            What’s happening to me?

            “The course of the war goes well for us, and I know how to defeat the Union at Gettysburg. Yes, they hold the high ground, but that is of little consequence. However, I cannot see the task through. I have lost faith in our cause, not that I ever held much to it to begin with. For too long has brother been warred against brother, and while many a good southerner will claim that this is a war about our sovereign rights to be free and choose for our own selves without the oppression and interference of northern states, it is not.

            “It’s my hypothesis that Robert E. Lee intentionally lost the battle of Gettysburg in order to force the South to reunite the country.

            “It is the fate of the negro to which we have tied ourselves, and whether it is the will of God Almighty that the negro is less of a man despite the red of the blood in his veins I know not. But I know I can no longer stand behind a cause that sees our great nation divided for so base a reason. Let it be done. Let us reunite this divided house and become once again a nation, a government, and settle our differences like men with our words instead of with our blood.
            “And so I must, to appease my conscience, commit a sin greater than any I’ve ever contemplated. I will send my men, my boys, to meet their end tomorrow. No matter what I must attack the Union forces with all the force I can muster. I must be tenacious in my convictions, and I will not rest until my army is in a shambles, broken on the spear of the Union forces.
            “I write this letter knowing it will never make it to you, for I will cast it into the flames so that none may know. I will see you soon my dearest Mary.

            “General Robert E. Lee”

Friday, March 17, 2017

F3 Someone Else's Flashback

            “Back to Gettysburg. No one denies that this the decisive battle of the Civil War. Had Robert E. Lee won the battle, the Confederacy almost certainly would have been able to hold off the Union.”

            “My Dearest Mary,”
            Alex blinked. For a moment she had been in a tent, lit by candles, staring down at a piece of parchment. The line in her mind was written on the parchment.
            “Sorry, the lights are a bit much,” she recovered. “As I was saying, this is a decisive battle. And it also stands out as Lee’s most famous defeat, which is unusual after his many victories and his reputation as a competent general.

            “My Dearest Mary,

                        “It is with heavy heart that I write this. My conscience will not let me rest. I know I am doing the right thing, yet it will cost the lives of so many good, young men.”

            She had been back in the tent, and the hands writing the letter had not been her own. Instead, they were old and gnarled with thick callouses, and a faint tremor in the left hand. Each hand poked out of grey sleeves embroidered with gold.

Friday, March 10, 2017

F3 Winging It

            She began pacing the stage, using her hands as much as her voice to speak, which clearly confused the other professors and administrators in the first couple of rows. She had no lecture notes, had no presentation, no digital apparatus to control a slideshow, not even an assistant to control things from behind the scenes.
            I’m just going to talk.
            “Before coming here, I had the opportunity to go to Gettysburg. The place is alive with old ghosts. The history of that place is in every stone, every blade of grass, and not a year goes by when some lucky visitor discovers a slug from an old rifle.”
            She pulled the small, clear plastic container from her pocket with the slug in it. The slug was covered with lead oxide, but had landed soft on the ground with no deformity. There were some oohs and ahhs, but they quickly faded.
            “Don’t tell the park police I have this.”
            That drew some laughs.
            “History is not found in a textbook, despite what we professors might tell you. It’s not even found in the writings of the people who were there. History is alive. It must be experienced to truly know it. What is not recorded is just as important, or even more important than what was.


Friday, March 3, 2017

F3 Opening Remarks

[I know I'm supposed to continue on with Matt's serial story, but I'm going to take a little break for March, but I'll get back to him.]

            Alex waited patiently as the vice president of the college finished the introduction. The veep was pedantic and boring, and it was all Alex could do to stay awake, even though the introduction was nothing but flattery for the guest of honor: Alex.
            “She has published twelve books that have all hit the New York Times’ bestseller list,” the veep droned. “A remarkable feat for any author, much less a history professor.” A few chuckles from the audience on that. “Join me in welcoming our visiting professor for the semester, Dr. Alexandra Conrad.”
            The lecture hall erupted in applause, though some of it clearly was not enthusiastic as much as it was obligatory as a forced social custom. Alex stood, taking the hand of the veep, who pumped her arm a little too much.
            Alex switched on her earpiece mike instead of taking the podium. “Thank you, Vice President Hallsey,” Alex forced a pleasant smile. “It’s an honor to be here. I’m looking forward to my classes this semester and this special advanced lecture today here at DeGradi University. Go Trappers!”
            The team got more cheers than she did, but that was almost always the case. It was only the third year in a row she had ben farmed out to other universities, but never so far from home before.
            Paul has a lot to answer for on this one, but I don’t have the leverage to stop him. It was a damn fine loophole he found to get me out of his hair since he doesn’t have cause to fire me.
            “Well, now. I suppose I could go into my books, my teaching methodology, or how successful I’ve been as a professor to my students, but I think I’d rather get to the heart of this special lecture: Gettysburg.”

Friday, November 6, 2015

F3 Regime Change

            The long night had ended. Alex smiled again as he looked at the announcement that Carl was retiring. At long last the man’s oppressive and downward spiral policies for the history department would be over.
            Alex looked up at the knock on his door. Rebecca Pullman stood there with a grin on her face.
            “You did it,” she said.

Friday, October 16, 2015

F3 Midterms

            Alex dressed in his period costume, complete with curled wig and tricorn hat, and walked into the classroom. The students knew that the midterm was going to focus on the Revolutionary War and the Constitutional Convention, but they hadn’t been informed as to the format of the test. However, they were used to their professor dressing up and being eccentric, so none batted an eye at his appearance.

Friday, September 18, 2015

F3 Backlash

            Professor Alex Henderson stormed through the hall, his expression hard enough to deter colleagues that tried to talk to him, but flinched back on sight of his face. Deidre Jenkins made the sign of the cross to ward away evil.

Friday, May 30, 2014

F3 Artillery

            Breath frosted in the frozen morning as students grunted and groaned as they pushed the onager into position. The onager had taken a month to construct by the physics students, who would operate it.
            Alex’s class had been divided equally to help the physics students with historical accuracy, right down to the correct rope to provide torsional power to the catapult. The other half of his students lay up ahead behind the snow wall that took up half the campus quad. The goal was to replicate part of Julius Caesar’s siege of Alesia. The Roman fortifications were made of snow instead of wood, but it would help the architecture students understand load bearing and exceptional stresses on structures.

Friday, May 9, 2014

F3 With Style

            “I’m doing it,” Stan said to Alex.
            “You keep saying that,” Alex said, continuing to move his pen over the essay. Most of the students had done well with their mid-term projects, but a few still didn’t quite get the true significance of the Civil War. They kept wanting to talk about abstract factors. They couldn’t grasp how personal the war was, literally brother against brother all along the border states.

Friday, March 21, 2014

F3 Declaration

            Alex carefully aimed his dart, then let it fly at the memo he had put on his dartboard. It made a satisfying thunk as the dart hit the signature. The department chair, Paul Crateris, had put out the memo. Alex didn’t have much against Paul, but didn’t particularly like the man, either. Just a sycophant, an empty suit trying to kiss up to the higher admins until he can score an associate dean position.

Friday, October 4, 2013

F3 Peasant Justice

            The hat finished making its way to all the students. Alex pocketed the remainder of the slips of folded paper, replacing the peasant hat on his head.
            “Okay,” he picked up his pitchfork, “read your instructions and follow them.”

Friday, September 27, 2013

F3 Mob Rules

            “See,” Alex said with a thick New Jersey accent, “yer all part of my outfit, my organization, just like Nicky and Pauly, here. He gestured to the two hulking men in black suits. Nicky gave a solemn nod while Pauly smiled at the room.
            “And since we’re all in this together, we gots to work together. We’ve got rules. That’s what makes for a happy family, after all. And family, family is important. And when something happens to the family, well, it’s sad for all of us. Nicky, Pauly.”

Friday, August 23, 2013

F3 Dark Days

            People filed in for the department meeting, the usual assortment of long faces combined with tired, though those looks changed to looks of bemusement and head shakes as Alex walked in. He look on the shabby side, his clothing wrinkled and his fake beard was long and scraggly, looking as if one of the members of ZZTop had been in a fight.

Friday, June 14, 2013

F3 Crossing

            The Whitmoor University pool had chunks of ice in it. It should being February before dawn. Students dressed in clothing barely adequate for the weather, as dictated by the assignment. They huddled together for warmth. Alex strode forth in white wig and tricorn hat.

Friday, May 17, 2013

F3 First Day

            There really is only one chance to make a first impression. Professor Alex Henderson adjusted the bow tie of his tux. He checked his watch, then nodded. He went down the hall where students still filed into classrooms, giving him wide-eyed stares. When he got to his room, he pushed the play button on the presentation remote, starting the music.

Friday, May 10, 2013

F3 Business Practices

            Three students quietly packed away beakers, flasks, graduated cylinders, and test tubes while another steady stream of students walked off with boxes packed full of the supplies. Professor Alex Henderson watched, smiling, from his vantage near the door to the supply room.
1001 Nights (4) Abraham (11) Adonis (4) Aphrodite (18) Apocalypse (6) Apollo (5) Arabian (4) Ares (2) Artemis (5) Arthur (12) Athena (7) Bard (1) Ben Slater (13) Bible (88) Boxing Day (6) Celtic (2) Character File (2) Chinese (1) Christian (6) Christmas (1) Conferences (30) creation myths (15) Criminalelement (11) Dark Business (61) Dark Winds (22) Demeter (10) Diomedes (6) Don Iverson (4) Eden (5) Enchanter (16) essay (9) Exploding Storm Rider Mystery (1) F3 (632) (2) Fairhaven Club (6) Fairy Tales (20) Family (2) Flood Myth (8) Flynn (84) Greek (96) Greeks (1) Guest (1) Hades (10) Halloween Fall Formal (6) Hercules (9) Hestia (2) Hindu (2) History Prof (22) Holiday (12) Holiday Myths (6) Incan (1) Iranian (2) Jacob (13) Japanese (1) Job (21) Joseph (18) Judges (12) Knowledge Myths (3) Levite (12) Library (8) Life (123) Love Gods (4) M3 (253) (1) map (13) Matt Allen (268) Medieval (7) Metamyth (5) Misc Flash (36) Mom (1) monthly chart (21) Movies (6) Myth Law (2) Myth Media (4) NaNoWriMo (22) Noah (5) noir (9) Noir Tales (1) Norse (10) Odyssey (8) Persephone (15) Perseus (14) Persian (1) Poseidon (1) Prometheus (8) publishing (24) ramble (113) Red Riding Hood (6) Review (1) Sam Faraday (53) Samson (14) Santa's Helper (3) Scavenger Hunt (20) Sci Fi (15) science (1) Serial (84) short story (14) Spotlight (8) Storm Riders (139) Teaching (136) Tech (18) Transformation (5) Travel (27) TV (10) TV Myth (1) Underworld (6) Unhappily (2) Vacation (15) vampires (18) W3 (11) WIP (20) Writing (166) Writing Tools (16) Zeus (21)