At 7:15 this morning, while I was reading about Jonathan blogging at Panera, Mark came around the corner of the dorm room.

“Paul, what would you like to do with the free morning?”

“Go to the lake,” I replied, without an once of hesitation.

After coffee and blogging, we strolled east.  Over the rise of the bridge spanning the train tracks.  Down the grass embankmet to the walkway along the shore.  It is at moments like these that I remember where I came from, gazing at the reach and the long expanses of the Atlantic.  Lake Michigan came into my eyes and I asked myself, “Why do you live in Colorado?”  Maybe it’s being an Aquarius, maybe it’s just a habit, but I am drawn to water.

As teachers of history, we all recognize the significance of bodies of water when human settlements emerged, yet I don’t recall learning much about development in and around the Great Lakes.  I know How New England and the east coat were settled.  I even know of the Spanish missions and the west coast.  After Marquette and Joliet, how did Chicago and Detroit develop into vital spots on the journey to the Hudson and the St. Lawrence?What were the specifics in the growth of the Great Lakes and commerce in Northern America.

At the Art Institute, I again was drawn to water.  Notice the Renoir above.  It struck me that I had never seen a Renoir seascape (sea Above).  The Institute had a fabulous Renoir exhibit.  I had never seen many Manets before, and thouroughly enjoyed comparing them to Monets.

 

Monet vs. Manet

Comparing and contrasting is the purpose of art, isn’t it?  Easy to bring that into the classroom.  I thought also of art lessons where the students look at a painting and draw a picture of the next day, like what would happen next.  This could evolve into creative writing.  We do a creative writing story each week, and one of the weeks each quarter, we could pass out post cards of fine art and have the students build a story around it.

A woman with khaki-colored hair was working in the bookstore at the National Park Service building at the Lincoln House site.  When I came upon her, she was bending over, picking up a variety of Licoln top hats and Civil War caps from the floor.  She looked up at me, giggled, and said with a grin, “Don’t mind me, I’m just playing with hats!”  I don’t know why I wrote it down.  Initially I thought it might make a good theme for a song, maybe about someone who switches roles each day.  The I sat down to write this blog…

Today we saw many of the hats Abraham Lincoln wore during his time in central Illinois.  We began at the old Illinois State House, where he spent many years arguing cases before the State Supreme Court, and probably much time doing other business in 1847-1849 when he was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.  The courtroom inspired me to role play a Lincoln case in the classroom, maybe with different groups competing to do the best job of acting it out.

 

 

 

 

Across the street in Tinsley’s Building, we learned of the many uses the building had, and how Lincoln was involved in the various versions of his law office.  With all the reminders of new facts found out by the archeologist, it was ultimately somewhat difficult to imagine where every room finally was, but we still heard of his various chapeaus.  Even when elected President, he came to the building ot write his first Inaugural Address in a quiet room above the grocery.  Yet another hat he wore in Springfield as President-Elect.

 

 

 

 

We moved on to the Lincoln Home, learning of the soon-to-be Sixteenth President as a kind father and husband, as well as Lincoln the host of neighborhood parties and get-togethers- a role that doesn’t come through often in our bland History Texts.  The nineteenth century idea of harmony through contrast, shown by the carpet and the wall paper, permeates our world.  Don’t we mix students of differing strengths and personalities into different groups, expecting the olio will blend into a profitable experience?

 

 

 

 

Walking through the oak, ash, hickory, maple, and walnut trees of New Salem brought us many of the early head coverings of A. Lincoln.  River boatman, store clerk, defier of the town bullies, storyteller, honest book borrower, avid reader and learner.  This seems to be where a lot of story and myth intertwine.  The movie frustrated me.  I realize the state has a desire to show how important New Salem was to Lincoln’s development, but I thought the film went too far.  It promoted New Salem as a Magic Carpet that whisked Lincoln right into the White House, when maybe he just realized that New Salem was nowhere, and he needed to do something to get out of there.

The final “hat” of Lincoln, that of fallen hero, reverently played out at the striking site of his tomb.  His final memorial, though dominating the site, subtly tells people of his importance in our country’s history then and now.

Admit it, when you heard “primary documents” this morning, some part of you wanted to, or actually did, groan.  Erin Bishop demonstrated that academic lectures on primary documents are not as droll as some may anticipate!  She demonstrated how to read into the psychology of Lincoln, the man, through his letters and writings.  Imagine going through some letters, or the Gettysburg Address, and asking students, “Why do you think Lincoln chose this word?” or, “What other way could he say this?”, and even, “Re-write this in your own words.”  Imagine the understanding students can achieve by researching synonyms and definitions, deciding which word or meaning makes the most sense, and paraphrasing Lincoln.  Think of all the Language Arts skills in addition to the Social Studies standards covered in such a lesson.  With all the analytical and evaluative reasoning, students will be working high on Bloom’s taxonomy.

I am still experiencing some vagueness about primary sources and documents.  It has been stewing in my mind all afternoon, and though I couldn’t formulate it into a question this morning, I will give it a shot now.  Erin defined a primary documents in her power point presentation was that it hadn’t gone through any interpretation.  Later, while going through the Marilyn Montrose exercise, she stated that certain documents written by people who were not witnesses were primary documents because they were written at the same time as the incident.  It seems to me that it would take some interpretation of the facts to make a statement about the facts if you hadn’t seen them happen.  By the former definition, that would not be a primary document because it went through that non-witness’s interpretation.  But by the latter definition, that is; written at the same time, it would be a primary document.  Is there a difference between a primary source, and a primary document?

Many people were surprised at the letters from Lincoln to his brother refusing to help with his finances.  Because of the myths we hear and the inferences we make when we hear them, some are shocked at the seeming  lack of compassion toward his brother Thomas.  Erin asked if this showed a “new” side of Lincoln.  By the reaction of the room, I felt most people were surprised.  I was not.  If you think of Lincoln as the self-made man, it shouldn’t surprise you that he feels anyone who can not pull themselves out with hard work like he did, is shiftless and will never be a success.  Lincoln’s point is, “If I can, you can”  It’s obvious that this feeling continues to permeate the Republican party

Bryon Andreasen spoke in the afternoon of issues perplexing to historians who want to disseminate their knowledge to large masses of people. He brought up one question that continues to perplex us as a people.- How do you resolve moral conflict in a democratic system?  If we can think of some of the volatile issues facing our nation today, we might get a sense of the discussion happening over slavery.  Every time a state tries to legislate morals in issues such as abortion and gay marriage, it  provokes vehemence in almost anyone discussing it .  Resolving moral conflict through our reresentative governmentis continues to promote tight-rope walking and lines in the sand from our elected officials.

        The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair, spoke to many social issues of the day, including labor and social support.  These issues were not fictive, they overwhelmed most immigrants at the turn of the Twentieth Century, and with the constant flow of workers from overseas, government agencies saw little need to do anything about the situation.  Any help for people out of work and in need of food and shelter was left to charitable organizations and churches, much like the program put forward by the recently deposed Republican administration.  Though the issues were real enough, Sinclair opted to ignore those organizations, and chose the genre of fiction to propose Socialism as the crutch to support the healing of the country.  The Catholic parish support and the ethnic vitality was ignored probably to promote the idea that there was no where to go but Sinclair’s chosen group.  One must choose Socialism.

        By 1905, Socialist ideas and labor reformation had been part of the public discussion for at least thirty years.  Many lives were lost in various demonstrations, including the bombing of a convention spoken of in Death in the Haymarket, by James Green, and one imagines the frustration felt by people unable to make any changes in their situation.  The journals and newsletters of the labor movement had exhausted the rote explanation of grievances and ills.  Another tack was needed.

        Upton Sinclair did not come from the working class, rather the opposite.  Old wealth established the family after the American Revolution, so Sinclair was exposed to a good education.  An avid reader, he surely recognized that the people perusing a book must identify with the subject of the book he is to read.  The immigrants working and living in the packing house area of Chicago certainly new their plight.  The novel was not aimed at them.  The author grew up and attended school with his intended audience, and recognized that a novel with a fictional character would be best to get the sons of those in power to respond to the needs of the poor by joining the Socialist party.  Like the millions who have followed soap operas and Harry Potter novels, it is the relationship of the character to the reader that drives the story.  The emotions of the reader towards what happens to Jurgis, the main character, evolve from concern through frustration to apathy and finally into disbelief (all this couldn’t possibly happen to one man!  Didn’t you find yourself feeling that way?)  Yet, you can’t put the book down.  You want to find out what happens to the man.

        The intent of fiction is to entice the reader into belief by entertaining them.  From Homer to Michener, author’s have shown that storytelling is the most effective way of getting historical content across to a vast majority of the populace.  Folk tales throughout the ages related important information about the world to the next generation.  Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King Jr., used this tactic to great effect.  Had Upton Sinclair chosen a nonfiction tome to present his ideas, it probably would have made not a dent in the collective psyche of the nation.  Like the excursions of Hercules, the stories of Jurgis’ travails spark the reader into wondering why the world should work this way.

        Most propaganda promotes itself through fiction or fictional characters.  Posters of the evil Hun representing the Kaiser during World War I, or caricatures of Tojo and Hitler two decades later, instill images in people’s minds that are hard to ignore.  Even on a positive side, the government promoted “Rosie the Riveter” to keep people helping on the home front in the second World War.  German propaganda from the same time may have been less specific, but held up an ideal of the Aryan race for people to aspire to.  Certainly much thought was given to all these what effect was desired in the end.  Sinclair surely planned his book in the same way.

        Was The Jungle an effective propaganda tool?  According to what was the author’s intent, promoting Socialism in America, one might feel that the book fell short.  Socialist ideas did (and still do) linger in the country, but there was no great influx of new members or lasting effect.  However, if one takes into account the meatpacking practices of the time and the labor issues, the argument could be made that it was tremendously effective.  The novel was popular enough that the government started looking into the meat packers and many inspection and quality controls were instituted as a direct result.  As noted in the introduction by James Barrett, Sinclair himself said, “I aimed at the public’s heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach.”  As to the labor issues, struggles had been going on for years, yet in the decade after publication of The Jungle, saw a greater number of historically noted strikes across the country, such as those in Lawrence, Massachusetts and Ludlow, Colorado, as well as at great strike wave in 1919, where twenty percent of the country’s workers walked in protest.  The Jungle’s popularity was widespread enough to make an argument that it also had an effect on the labor movement.  Although Upton Sinclair’s aim was slightly awry, the novel did help invoke some social change to better the lives of American’s, even if it wasn’t necessarily through Socialism.

       At the southern end of Lake Michigan, where the Great Lakes meet the Great Plains, where railroads came together and sent their tentacled rails spidering over the young country, factories processed farm products and shipped them all over the world.  After the American Civil War, the large cities on the east coast of the country went slowly back to their business, while the smaller, upstart town of Chicago started to find an identity.  Railroads had begun expanding the west before the war, and now stood ready to conquer the entire continent.  Chicago was in the vortex of that expansion.

            The cities of the east, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, all had established businesses and most of the men knew what to expect when they returned.  Families, neighborhoods and ethnic communities had been long established, but such enclaves were only beginning to grow in Chicago.  Immigrants still came through those port cities, but considering that the space and jobs were already spoken for, many immigrants headed west to Chicago.  The population exploded.  There was not enough housing and much of what was there consisted of wooden construction.  The cities out east had long ago known of the inherent danger of all that flammable material crowded into a town, they had seen their share of fires through the years, but none to compare with the conflagration in 1871 in Chicago.  People in Chicago knew what is was to lose everything and they rebuilt.

            Trade was long-established in the east.  The larger cities had been settled over two hundred years before and the relationships between the different ethnic groups and social castes were understood, and to a large part, accepted.  Chicago changed the tune.  With new ethnic groups arriving on the heels of the  previous ones, no one group held sway long enough to establish a firm social strata to the society.  Boston had its Brahmins, but all Chicago had was the railroad and meat-packing barons.  Power was based on wealth and profit, rather than old money and heritage.  When comparing the social classes in Chicago, the workers saw the only difference in power was economic, there were no other barriers to climb to get ahead in their situations.  Out east, one had to contend with money and heritage for their social standing.

            Many immigrant groups after the Civil War, especially Germans, came to Chicago with a tradition of trade guilds and organizations.  They had a confidence in dealing as a group with others in business.  Though the barons did their best, through mechanization and specialization, to lessen the importance of these skilled craftsmen, the tradition and the basis of organized workers was still in place.  This was the soil in which the seeds of discontent in labor were sown.  Through demonstrations, journals, and speakers, the seeds grew into a tree with many branches.  Though the fruit didn’t all ripen at once, the tree was still producing.  By reversing permissive measures and installing more restrictive ones aimed at keeping a long work day with low wages, big business unwittingly became the pruner; the more they trimmed the branches, the stronger the fruit produced.  Ethnic groups became united in the struggle against the companies.

            There were stirrings of organized labor and occasional strikes scattered across the country in the two decades previous to the 1880s, but when these stirrings combined with the above-mentioned factors in and around Chicago, labor organizations grew and evolved into various models.  The Knights of Labor tried to keep the skilled craftsmen above the common laborer.  Eventually all the groups lost out in some way to the labor barons, and saw futility in trying to keep old guilds and new labor unions separate.  This led to the celebration of labor in early May, 1886.  There was much discussion in Death in the Haymarket over who was responsible for the bomb that exploded in the crowd, but in the end, it probably didn’t matter.  The fuse was lit that led to labor realizing they had to risk everything in their dealings with the large companies.

Labor timeline     

            Within thirty years, labor groups were demonstrating, following Chicago’s lead in places as diverse as Ludlow, Colorado and Lowell, Massachusetts.  It wasn’t that labor movements and strikes were non-existent before the Haymarket demonstrations and the bombing, but theses occurrences were the catalyst for propaganda on both sides that propelled awareness and discussions across the world.  Much like the Boston Massacre in 1770, where the unrest and concern over the treatment of the American colonies coalesced into a more formidable protest that evolved into revolution, the incidents in the Haymarket helped labor groups in Chicago gel through the fate of the seven men convicted of the bombing who became martyrs to the cause of labor unions, and were even recognized as heroes in other countries.

            Could it have happened anywhere else?  Maybe not.  In other locales, those in power could blame unrest on one particular ethnic group: the Irish, the Italians, etc.  But in Chicago, many ethnic peoples were involved, and that loophole was taken out for those who wanted to stifle the protests.  The face of Chicago became the blending of many groups.  As the hub of railway connections between the east and the west, Chicago grew an image of a hard-working, common-man kind of town.  In Carl Sandburg’s words, “…a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities.”  While the long established power bases in the older eastern cities held sway over labor and industry, Chicago grew its power base from the workers of several ancestries and the ward bosses, giving those workers a sense that they could take control of their destiny and setting the table for the labor movement in America.

            People often choose an occupation with years of planning and education.  Some careers are made by inheritance. On the other hand, many people don’t choose, they are chosen by the profession out of necessity or by accident.  In Sin in the Second City, Karen Abbott shows how Minna and Ada Everleigh chose to operate an exclusive brothel and gain a modicum of power in a male-dominated world of turn of the Twentieth Century Chicago.

            The Everleigh Sisters would not have been able to run a legitimate business in Chicago at the turn of the Twentieth Century.  We hypothesize that they were involved in some way in the “world’s oldest profession” before Chicago, but since they made up several vague stories about their past, we can’t say for sure.  The role of women at that time was expressly secondary to the dominant male.  The sisters gravitated to running a house of prostitution because it was the only endeavor open to them.  Since prostitution was not seen as a worthy, socially acceptable activity, who would care if it were operated by a man or a woman?  There were few businesses operated solely by women to a degree that the women could be respected in the business community and they could make more than a living wage.  The employment available to women in Chicago, as seen in The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair, shows that women in the workplace were considered for the lowest jobs, but preferable because they were paid less than men.

            It seems that women perceived themselves as inferior, maybe a reaction to how society treated them, and did not consider doing anything to change these perceptions that kept them subservient.  There were suffragettes around, the earliest feminists, but the majority of women did nothing to alter the status quo.  This dynamic seems to happen often in history with oppressed groups, where the majority does nothing to change their station, maybe because of the amount of pain and sacrifice predicted to make the change could prove to be too intense for the individual to bear.  Consider the Israelites in the Bible, the Irish throughout the centuries of struggles with the British, the slaves in the South for four hundred years.  Women at the turn of the century in America knew all too well that poverty and strife awaited them unless they tied themselves to a man.

            The Everleigh sisters seemed to overcome this by realizing that the question was not about managing a business, but it was about managing power.  With the nebulous stories of their beginnings, we can only guess at how they came to the conclusion that giving powerful men what they wanted in turn gives them a certain power.  Why didn’t the sisters themselves provide the services for the men?  Would they lose a bit of esteem in the eyes of the clients?  Maybe the Everleigh pair knew more than psychologists of the day and saw that sex was about power, not only pleasure.

            Powerful ward bosses and politicians abetted the Everleigh operation, providing protection as well as clients.  Imagine the sensation the sisters must have felt when they knew they were able to control some of the strings that ran the lives of Chicagoans around them.  With a degree in Psychology, I have often come across references to prostitutes making men feel powerful.  The Everleighs figured this out long before psychologists.  This is not Carl Sandburg’s “painted women under the gas lamps luring farm boys.”  Training their girls in classical literature and poetry, filling halls and walls with fine objets d’art, creating an experience for powerful men to feel pampered and in charge actually gave the two madams their own control over the circumstances of their livelihood.  Very few members of the diminutive sex could have a similar experience at that time in history in America.  Even other Chicago madams mentioned in the book had a husband or man tied to their operation.  It seems that the Everleighs were exceptional in that they ran it by themselves with no male involved in the management.

            Minna and Ada opted for a profession they obviously knew a lot about and they thought extensively about how to present it in a way that would allow them to control their situation.  They chose to operate a respectful, elegant operation, endeavoring to bring a sense of  gentility to their house, knowing men would come and feel less aberrant in their behavior with the art and manners around them.  Making these men feel pleased and important brought some power to the two ststers.  It was no accident.  They did not fall into a house of prostitution in Chicago out of desperation or need, they carefully planned it.  They chose the only method available to them at that time to have some measure of power over the male dominated society.

          Occasionally, a well-written biography can relate more about the reader than the subject of the tome.  Discussing the strengths, faults, outlooks and decisions of an historical character can instill in the reader a questioning of personal foibles and talents, but can also prod the reader into questioning general tendencies in humanity in our attitudes toward our heroes and heroines from the past.  Though giving an excellent overview of Abraham Lincoln’s traits and beliefs, Gerald Prokopowicz’s book, Did Lincoln Own Slaves? also creates a picture of the traits and beliefs of the general public towards our sixteenth President.

            Politically, Did Lincoln Own Slaves? shows how Mr. Lincoln could diffuse argument and disarm rivals through his respect for their strengths and through storytelling and humor.  His early experiences as a lawyer on the circuit forced him to recognize how to approach different people when he needed something, be it testimony, a meal, or a bed.  Having to share rides, rooms, and even beds with other men on the circuit surely gave Lincoln a sense allowing others room for their opinions and faults. 

           A common misconception brought out by Prokopowicz is that Lincoln’s political ambitions were driven by Mary Todd’s need for wealth and prestige that she was raised with.  Prokopowicz points out several instances where Lincoln spoke of a career in politics before he married Mary.  Political ambition was always there, not necessarily motivated by Mary Todd.

            Once in the office of President, as is readily apparent after Doris Kearns Goodwin’s recent book, A Team of Rivals, as well as the attention it has gotten with the current administration, Lincoln used the storytelling, the practicality, and the persuasive skills from his law career to win most rivals of importance to his side, even if they continued to disagree with him.  My question to Prokopowicz would be, “Why was Lincoln never able to win McClellan over?”

            In his early adulthood and adolescent years, the book points out the practical aspects that developed in Lincoln’s character.  The decision to forego farming, the move to Springfield, and even his choices of broadswords and a wall for the duel showed the emphasis Lincoln put in practicality.  This carried on into his decisions as President.  Making political choices based on what was best to achieve the goals, rather than fomenting disagreements by basing those decisions on his personal feelings shows that Lincoln managed his office as a practical politician, driven by what problems he thought he could solve, what he could actually accomplish.  Lincoln often put his personal desires against slavery on the back burner in favor of making decisions with the practical purpose of not offending and keeping the important border slave states with the Union.

            We want to assess our sixteenth President by what we expect of today’s politicians, yet so many of them wear their hearts on their sleeves, while posing before the media for sound bites in favor of or against a current emotionally charged issue.  Lincoln knew he had to preside over the country by suppressing his personal feelings and addressing issues in his practical manner.

            So, what do the questions related in the book, Did Lincoln Own Slaves?, say about us as Americans?  Maybe more than the answers say about Lincoln.  First of all, we want to believe the myth.  There is comfort in the stories we heard as children, or read in the picture books of the formative primary years.  We are reluctant to let go of them.  The myths grow into fact so solid that Americans begin believing the country would disintegrate before their eyes should we learn the truth about the rail-splitting and writing lessons on the back of a shovel, young George Washington and the cherry tree, or Paul Revere riding through all of eastern Massachusetts warning the Minutemen when he never even got as far as Concord.  But the myths keep the nation strong, as John Prine put it: “He voted for Eisenhower ’cause Lincoln won the war.”

            As Americans, our heroes strove by themselves, against enormous odds, to overcome intimidating circumstances in achieving their great heights.  Lincoln as a self taught country folk appeals to our underdog nature, helping us feel less powerless since he grew up just like we did.  Lincoln knew this even about the people around him, and though he could intellectually reason with the politicos, he chose many times to tell a simple country story to drive home his point, showing that he didn’t put on airs, he was like them.  This simple man image continually reaches us through the ages because we know we could sit down; share a meal and great conversation with Mr. Lincoln. 

            There is another suspicious side that the questions show about the American mind.  It is the same part of our collective psyche that wonders at the DaVinci Code and the grassy knoll in Dallas.  We are fascinated by the dark side.  We know that we have urges and actions that emerge from the id, and we want to believe that Lincoln, our hero, was as human as us, and also had his weaknesses.  That he could have owned slaves could be a flaw that we see in ourselves, and once more we can identify with our hero.  If we find cracks in the façade, if we define Lincoln by today’s definition of white supremacist, if we criticize because he was practical about when to release the Emancipation Proclamation, then we can feel all the better because of any politically incorrect feelings we may have.

            In the style chosen for this book, using questions that he has heard from people as curator of a museum, Prokopowicz has not only disseminated bundles of information and debunked many erroneous myths about Lincoln, but has let the reader see into his own soul and the soul of humanity, as we struggle to understand how ordinary men like us and like Lincoln, from the most simple circumstances, rise to perform heroic feats to save our country and civilization.

Imagine telling someone how to bake chocolate chip cookies when you never have made them yourself.  You can rattle off your mother’s recipe, but will they struggle with details?  What color do you look for before they are brown enough to come out?  Should you add flour if it seems a little moist?  How many chips are enough?  These are the questions you can answer if you made the cookies.  This is also the advantage of traveling to historic sites for teachers of the subject.  Seeing and hearing first hand stories helps you give your students an excitement that you feel and a deeper understanding of events.

Our trip to Philadelphia expanded the possibilities and options I have in designing lessons for my students that will engage and challenge them.  Using the initial readings, our first speaker in April, Dr. Yazawa, and the visitations to historic sites to inspire and challenge us to be engaged at the upper levels of Bloom’s Taxonomy. Built into each lecture and activity were elements of analysis, synthesis, and evaluation, leading us to think about application in our classrooms.  Too many history courses retire to the first elemental stages of Bloom: knowledge and comprehension.  This program has taken us much farther than that and has shown us how to get our students past that.

The professors obviously aimed at this target.  Through reminders about blogs, and questions on the bus, I could see the focus quite clearly and appreciated where we are trying to go.  Through the activities provided by this grant, I feel I am closer to the History teacher I aspire to.  The professors did not just show me the recipe.  They looked over my shoulder, asking what I thought, where I thought I should go, and I think the cookies came out perfect!  Now to pass that recipe on to my students…

Whether sitting on a stone slab looking east from Seminary Ridge, or imagining the scope of the three days of the battle from the summit of Little Round Top, the Gettysburg Battlefield never disappoints.  This was my fourth visit, and each one opens new paths of wondering.

My first visit was with my father.  Like most sons, I felt as I was getting older that I did not spend a lot of what we now call “quality” time with my father.  My own son was now five, and I ached to do something meaningful with Dad.  My family and I were driving to Boston that summer.  Since my dad was member and lecturer for the Massachusetts Civil War Roundtable, I asked if he would meet me in Gettysburg, and he could show me the Battlefield.  He quickly agreed.

On that morning, Ma and my wife, Deb, packed up five-year old Michael and went off to Hershey, I don’t need to tell you why!  Dad and I found a local place for breakfast.  All the license plates were PA plates,and the food was good, though we had some funny looks from some people, wondering how these two tourists found their restaurant.  We finished, and Dad motored off to MacPherson Ridge.  I spent the entire day with him, parking at the sites and hearing his stories, uninterrupted by anyone else or any where to go.  He had his favorites, (he is a Custer fan, so you know I heard about the young general’s contribution.)  That was the first time I sat on Seminary Ridge and looked across the gaping openness.  It was one of the best days I have ever had with my father.  My understanding of the events of those three days was by no means complete, but the bond with Dad was definitely more so.

 My second visit was with Deb and Michael, hitting all the main sites and telling all the stories that a nine-year old boy and a forty-eight-year old wife could handle.  I was in the role of dad leading the son now.  Michael liked the statues and the cannon, as any boy that age would, and he purchased the appropriate toys from the gift shop, especially a Union soldier’s cap.  The learning was still superficial, but since I had just added some reading to my knowledge, I felt more informed, and responsibly passed some of it to Michael.  I found a profound change in myself, moving from one role to another, and trying to pass some of the spirituality of our history to that nine-year old.

Two years later, Michael put that same Union soldier’s cap on his head, got permission from his teacher and principal, and joined my class for a reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg at City Park involving seven fifth grade classes, it was now the third year Mark (my teaching buddy) and I had done this activity, and Michael was impressed with the stories and asked me many questions afterwards.  He was hooked.

A few weeks after that reenactment, Michael and I were joined by Mark for a drive to Boston.  (My wife did not want me to drive alone, and it took her about twenty seconds to convince Mark to go along.)  Although it was primarily a journey to show Mark the historic places around Boston, we stopped and visited the battlefields of Antietam and Gettysburg along the way.  The change in Michael was electric.  I could stop and look out across the Peach Orchard, the Devil’s Den the Wheat Field, and the Bloody Angle, wonder just like I wanted to.  Michael understood.  I noticed him staring also.

Now I stood for the fourth time on those fields.  I found out by listening to the tour guide that I had been doing a great job telling the stories to the fifth grade students in Colorado, but I was saddened by one thought- how could I impart the feeling of staring across these fields and imagining what went on here, listening to Lincoln’s words as I watch the grass bend with the breeze?  This visit I explored a new place.  I peered over Cemetery Hill and Culp’s hill batteries while others went into the Cemetery.  Why don’t the guides bring you here?  Imagine the thousands who struggled and fell here with no change in the lines, and little mention by guides and textbooks.  Now I have a new place at Gettysburg to sit and ponder.

I am excited about my fifth visit.  I hypothesize on why Dwight Eisenhower chose to purchase his only home here, and am sure I come close to knowing.  I know every time I’m back, the Gettysburg Battlefield will not disappoint.

 

House as art.  Interesting idea to move entire rooms into your home to showcase a style.  Beautiful gardens wrapped the buildings in green. Libraries set up for people to research rare topics and books.  That was probably the best thing about the place.  It’s one thing to make your home into a museum for the masses to come and see what can be done with money, it’s quite another to set aside a place with the expensive resources they obviously had for any scholars who needs it.  Winterthur was an interesting place.

Kathy’s talk on the consumer revolution in eighteenth century America brought new information I hadn’t heard.  The idea that people had to begin a shift from things they made themselves to buying those same things from someone else.  If you are a cooper, you don’t have to use time making candles, you buy them from a candle maker and you are left with more time to make barrels.  This shift had to occur sometime in history-it surely wasn’t there from the beginning- but we rarely think about when the shift began happening.  This led into the market economy, which I could guess at, but since her talk didn’t get to it, I better take that class from Jonathan or Matt some day.  Or, if it’s tied to some Dickens novel, maybe I’ll learn it from a Scott class.

Anyway, this did inspire a new dimension I can take for an old novel I have used with fifth grade students for twenty years.  Johnny Tremain talks about themes from the American Revolution, but as I tell the children, the novel is really two stories in one.  The first is the protagonist (Johnny) as the most promising apprentice, has a fall to rock bottom, and pulls out and starts a new life.  Then, the second story is Johnny in the new life, becoming involved in the revolution and its proponents.  It is the first story where I could teach the Consumer Revolution.

Johnny is apprenticed to a poor silversmith, with many mouths to feed.  There is no money for extras.  Dorcas, one of the sisters in the faamily dreams of being a “lady” and dressing properly.  Other sisters wish for hair combs and limes.  What are necessities, what are not?  This can lead to a discussion later about the students’ own lives.  Can they distinguish what in their life is a necessity and what is not?

Johnny hits rock bottom, is accused of stealing and ends up with money given him by John Hancock.  Johnny Tremain wastes the money on a splurge of frivolous eating.  Again- what is necessary and what is not?  I think we can lead the students, through evaluation of their own habits, into realizing what you need and what you don’t.  Starting from there you can build in ideas like: What should you do yourself?  What should you pay for someone else to do?  I think this would be a valuable off shoot unit for this book, not to mention trying to barter with different specie for different articles.  They would have to research prices and exchange rates.  This could be fun!

I think I can also work this into The Witch of Blackbird Pond, for they make all their own things in Connecticut and that grows into buying from others in Johnny Tremain.

Winterthur is not such a bad place.  Besides the garden and the libraries, it can bring inspiration to people!