Through the Lens of an Anthropologist: Campus Unrest

April 26, 1968 Student Strike, University of Connecticut

April 26, 1968 Student Strike, University of Connecticut


Carey MacDonald is an undergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern. In her blog series Through the Lens of an Anthropologist, Carey analyzes artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections.

Students’ actions at the University of Connecticut during the Vietnam War era were charged with radical and idealistic electricity. At a time when the student population was smaller, quieter, and only a third of the size that it is today, the on-campus presence of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) helped mobilize individuals who either did or did not associate themselves with the group. One action that took place on campus during this era was the ten-day long demonstration of December 1968. Producers A.H. Perlmutter and Morton Silverstein of National Educational Television captured this demonstration on film and turned it into the 1969 black and white production Diary of a Student Revolution.

The film suggests that the reason for that December’s unrest was that many students were strongly opposed to the principles of the companies conducting job recruitment interviews on campus. One such company was the DOW Chemical Company, the maker of both Saran Wrap and Napalm, a chemical weapon whose rampant usage in the Vietnam War became highly controversial in the U.S. in the late sixties. Students demonstrated against the university’s permission of DOW recruitment by first occupying the office of President Homer D. Babbidge in November 1968. SDS continued to garner support from some students and faculty and called for the student government to join their side on December 8, 2012. This was just the beginning of that December’s ten-day period of unrest.

Although the immediate cause of the December action was students’ opposition to recruiters on campus, interviews with students reveal the underlying moods and motivations advancing the demonstration. One individual stated, “Power, you know, is at the top; it’s held by a corporate elite. And the country is organized to protect the corporate elite.” Another student claimed that “this system cannot be tolerated and must be destroyed.” This severe distrust of American government and industry existed at a time when the Vietnam War was becoming more and more brutal and thus unpopular, and when social and civil rights activists like Abbie Hoffman and Martin Luther King, Jr. were at the forefront of the media.

In response to students’ and SDS’s call for a moratorium on recruiting starting on Tuesday, December 10, 1968, President Babbidge stated in a campus-wide announcement that, after great deliberation, there would be no moratorium on recruiting. Needless to say, that Tuesday saw the height of the action; people demonstrated against Babbidge’s announcement outside an off-campus building where recruiting was taking place. 67 students and faculty who weren’t formally associated with SDS were arrested by state police. The film shows that many of those individuals wished to be arrested to symbolize their dedication to the cause.

Contrarily, in an impromptu interview conducted in a lecture hall, a non-acting student called the acting students a “minority”, and one student claimed that the activists should be arrested and suspended. When a small number of SDS members entered that lecture hall to arouse their fellow students while the cameras were filming, a group of non-acting students shouted at them, “Keep the status quo, keep the status quo!” This debate would continue on until 1971, even after this specific period of action began to collapse on its ninth day.

The film also reveals President Babbidge’s tribulations during the demonstrations. Viewed by radical students as part of America’s ‘corporate elite’, Babbidge actually appears more conflicted and concerned than anything. We ultimately know from documents found in the President’s Office Records that Babbidge, too, believed in the same causes as the students, including racial, educational, occupational, and economic equality and justice. But he believed in pursuing different means to those ends. This can be seen in a statement he made on May 10, 1970 in response to another student action: “I can honestly say that I believe I understand the foundation causes of the student strike, I support many of them…but I cannot support the strike.”

The events of 1968 at the University of Connecticut indicate that the community struggled locally with issues that originated from society at large. Our university community continues to do the same today.

Carey MacDonald, writing intern

Fifty Years of Anti-Nuclear Power Advocacy: Now Open for Research

Poster from the Larry Bogart Papers

During a long career of anti-nuclear power advocacy, from the late 1950s to the early 1990s, Larry Bogart—and his associates after him—gathered together and distributed an enormous collection of information on the hazards of nuclear power.  Today the archive serves as a chronicle of the struggle against nuclear power and its grass roots origins. The collection is comprised of 42 boxes, amounting to approximately 54 linear feet, and covers approximately 50 years of time, spanning even after Larry Bogart’s death in 1991. In its extent it is more than a life’s work, and now, after a period of about three months of careful work, I am glad to report is completely inventoried!

The collection is comprised of anti-nuclear power publications from many different nationwide organizations—including his own, such as Nuclear Opponents and Energy News Digest—which show his concern for the nationwide problem, rather than merely local concerns. As can be surmised from the vast quantity of newspaper clippings, though, he devoted much attention to stopping power plants in the Northeast, such as Indian Point in New York, Vermont Yankee, and Seabrook in New Hampshire. His correspondence, though rarer, further indicates a deep devotion to the fight against nuclear power—since it is very nearly the only subject discussed—and correspondence written to him at his various organizations such as the Citizens Energy Council, Friends of the Hudson and the Anti-Pollution League—often requests for information or subscriptions to publications—shows his great importance within this advocacy movement.

The Larry Bogart Papers, rather than a direct biography of Larry Bogart, provides students and researchers with ample source materials for studying the movement as well as the specific concerns of scientists and citizens in the early era of nuclear power. Larry Bogart brought countless clippings and publications into one place from people and organizations from around the world, giving us a collection with a very wide scope.  What the collection offers is greater than one person could have produced singlehandedly: a chronicle of fifty years of anti-nuclear advocacy, told in many voices.

Daniel Allie, undergraduate student employee

Insight on a Fellowship

Glastonbury, Conn., English teacher David Polochanin was recently awarded the James Marshall Fellowship, as he pursues to write young adult literature as part of a yearlong sabbatical. During his research, he will write an occasional series of blog posts, based on his observations and insights relating to the contents of the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection at the University of Connecticut.   This is the second in the series.

Blog post 2: On The Psychology Of Writing

“You may think that this is the first Newbery acceptance speech I have ever made. But it isn’t. Long ago, before I ever wrote a book, when I was a children’s librarian and first aware of the Newbery Medal, I used to often put myself to sleep at night making speeches accepting this coveted award. These speeches were all exceptionally good and I wish I could remember them now. After I started writing, I stopped this pleasant habit, for my mind busied itself with wayward excursions creating chapters for… books.”

           Excerpt from Eleanor Estes’ 1952 Newbery Medal speech for her book Ginger Pye
 Eleanor Estes Newbery speech pg. 3

 Eleanor Estes Newbery Speech pg. 4

Within the publishing industry, there is a genre subset that exists mainly because of the uncertainty, mystery, and pressure that all writers face – the self-help writing guide. New books are sold every year, offering expert advice on such writerly, often impossible, things as how to summon the muses, where characters come from, the best ways to begin and end a story, if outlining is necessary for everyone, as if these were insider secrets only known to a few. Still, we learn that some authors write early in morning; others late at night. Some claim the best ideas come while taking long walks; others write what they dream and form stories around that.

To prove the marketability of such books, there is still a shelf at your local Barnes and Noble and the UConn Co-op reserved for such titles as John Gardner’s The Art of Fiction, Ray Bradbury’s Zen In The Art Of Writing, Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir Of The Craft, Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones: Freeing The Writer Within, Anne Lamott’s Bird By Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, and Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style, among others.

As a writer, especially at the beginning, during those fledgling phases when you’ve got 40 pages of something and it isn’t going so well, it’s hard not to look at these books. They are indeed tempting to read. Teachers at the college level routinely assign them as class texts, and the content is often useful, if not entertaining. I’ve bought a bunch of them myself, and every now and then, I return to them for inspiration or direction.

So, what makes me bring up the self-help industry for writers? A progressive-minded document from 1952.

Browsing through the Eleanor Estes papers recently I came upon several drafts of her Newbery Medal speech, given in 1952 for her book Ginger Pye, which stopped me in my tracks. As I read the draft, complete with cross-outs and edits, I stopped at the excerpt at the top of this post and had to reread it. I copied it verbatim on my yellow legal pad. Estes, a former librarian in New York City, said this was not her first speech. She had given many of them, in her head, putting herself to sleep at night imagining that she had won the award. What she was saying could have easily been included in a how-to-write guide; it still could.

With so much written about the psychology of writing – directly or indirectly – the truth remains elusive. What works for some will not work for all. I know for a fact that I do not have the motivation to write at 4:30 a.m., as some writers do. My most productive work time is sometime between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. It used to be from 9 p.m. to midnight, before my kids entered the picture. I have had numerous ideas come to me while on bike rides and while driving my car, though I would hesitate to say there is a direct correlation between generating writing ideas and movement. Perhaps through doing these activities, my mind has an opportunity to clear out some space for creative thought. But who really knows.

Reading from superior examples in the genre you’re writing seems to help warm up the brain. Perhaps it’s nothing more than mere imitation. But is this scientifically based? I doubt it, or know if it can be. Still, Ted Kooser, the Pulitzer Prize winning poet who has been the U.S. Poet Laureate, in interviews says he has done this, as have many other writers. When I was a journalist at the Providence Journal, before a major assignment an editor once sent me a handful of front-page feature stories from the Wall Street Journal before I started to write one of my own. I did “channel” something from those stories, but I think I was too young to figure out how the articles she sent could help me.

Nevertheless, I guess the Estes comment surprised me because of the time period in which she wrote it, and also because it still makes so much sense today. How could it not help to imagine doing the very thing you want to do? Isn’t visualization/imagery the most primitive version of positive psychology? Estes was priming her brain to write great works, and her nightly fantasizing ritual ultimately gave her a tight focus and, quite likely, a motivation.

It worked for her. Could it work for others?

Sifting through boxes of manuscripts in the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection, I suppose, can have a similar effect: to gain a psychological edge in the writing process. It’s easy to forget sometimes that writing is truly an art form, and that artists need inspiration and particular conditions in order to do it well. Whether it’s writing near the window at Starbucks, which seems to be a favorite for many, or in a secluded study room at a library, I’m not sure if there are any big secrets that will work for everyone. The trick, I think, is discovering what will work for you.

Through the Lens of an Anthropologist: Scrapbooking Our University Roots

Carey MacDonald is an undergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern.  In her blog series Through the Lens of an Anthropologist, Carey analyzes artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections.

Although college customs tend to change over time, their social ramifications remain profound and everlasting.  We are able to observe these traditions and their impact on students from such artifacts as documents, photographs, or, in this case, from scrapbooks.

The University Scrapbook Collection contains the scrapbook of one Arthur J. Randall who was a student at Connecticut Agricultural College from 1916 to 1918 when Charles L. Beach (of Beach Hall) was the college’s president.  Randall’s scrapbook reflects his two years at C.A.C. in stunning detail and provides great insight into his personal college experience.  Needless to say, this scrapbook also outlines C.A.C.’s very own history and traditions and highlights the agricultural roots of what is now the University of Connecticut.

Arthur J. Randall’s scrapbook is a wide, bound, bright blue book that was printed by The College Memory Book Company of Chicago, IL and copyrighted in 1914.  It is called the “Memory and Fellowship Book” and is dedicated to the “Keepers of Keepsakes” in its inside title page.  The Latin phrase “Qui Transtulit Sustinet,” or “He Who Transplanted Still Sustains,” is featured in gold on the front cover below a gold emblem.  This same phrase is found on the Connecticut state seal, according to CT.gov.  “Conn. Agri. Coll.” and Arthur’s full name and graduating year of 1918 are etched below the emblem.  Also interestingly, the inside backing of the book shows the seals of several other American universities that must have also contracted out to The College Memory Book Company of Chicago.  Ultimately, the scrapbook’s elaborate imagery and design are indicative of the significance of collegiate history and tradition.

Moreover, Randall’s scrapbook includes such things as class registration cards, treasurer’s cards, boarding and dining cards, Athletic Association season tickets, post office box renting fee slips, and other miscellaneous charge slips.  He also kept many photographs of various buildings on campus, Horsebarn Hill, and his friends.

His scrapbook is, in essence, a repository of rather mundane items – but items that are nonetheless useful for our purposes.  We can glean from Randall’s collection that he was likely a typical, responsible, self-aware student, by today’s standards at least, as well as by the standards of his time.

Also interesting is Randall’s account of the campus goings-on.  First, he marks September 12, 1916 as “the beginning of my career” in the calendar section of his scrapbook.  His “Comparative Athletic Record” shows that he played recreational basketball on several occasions.  He notes the President’s Reception and Rope Pull – two traditional university events –in October of 1917, as well as the Halloween Masquerade, Benefit Dance for the Red Cross, and “first moving pictures” in November of the same year.

Randall also takes note of the fire that burned down the old chemistry building on the morning of November 27, 1917.  This major change in the university setting was certainly upsetting, hence his note that it was a “total loss.”  Essentially, in the academic year of 1917-18 Randall took note of many of the events he attended, which also included going to church services and Mansfield Grange meetings on a regular basis.  It is particularly interesting that he recorded the events of his second year more than his first, and perhaps this is because he felt inclined to preserve what was left of his college career.

Lastly, Randall even held onto many of his final exams, the likes of which he also discusses in his calendar notes.  By writing on January 21, 1918 about midyear exams that “to think of the next five days is enough to make you crazy,” Randall implies that the university view on exams was much like it is today: exams are stressful and throw everyone into a collective state of turmoil.  His class schedules included classes such as Veterinary Science, Agriculture, Farm Management, Animal Husbandry (which he deemed ‘killer’), Dairy Husbandry, Horticulture, Forestry, History, and, interestingly, Military Drill and Military Science.

Randall’s records further identify the founding of the University of Connecticut as an agricultural school, and his apparent interest in recording exactly that indicates his pride in and appreciation for the school.  It is from these roots that our university grew and diversified into the flagship research university that it is today.

Carey MacDonald, writing intern

Photographs from Archives & Special Collections part of an exhibit at the National World War II Museum in New Orleans

 

Employee of the New Britain Machine Company during World War II

 Several months ago I worked with Laura Blum, a student at E.O. Smith High School in Mansfield, Connecticut, who needed photographs from the Connecticut Business History Collections for a project she was working on for the National World War II Museum in New Orleans.  Laura was selected, with fifty other high school students in every state in the country and the District of Columbia, to provide images of how their states contributed to the challenges of World War II on the homefront.  Laura chose six photographs from our collections, all depicting Connecticut workers and the efforts they made on behalf of the war effort, and wrote an introduction.

The photographs that Laura chose are available in the Connecticut window of the Salute to Freedom website of the National World War II Museum, at http://salutetofreedom.org/.  We are happy that Laura used photographs from our collection for this national-oriented project and very impressed with the good work she did in highlighting and describing the photographs.

The museum blogged about the exhibit on December 31, 2012, available here: http://www.nww2m.com/2012/12/student-scholars-honor-local-contributions-to-wwii/

Insight on a Fellowship

Glastonbury, Conn., English teacher David Polochanin was recently awarded the James Marshall Fellowship, as he pursues to write young adult literature as part of a yearlong sabbatical. During his research, he will write an occasional series of blog posts, based on his observations and insights relating to the contents of the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection at the University of Connecticut. Polochanin’s work has been widely published in major newspapers in New England, including The Boston Globe, Providence Journal, and Hartford Courant. His education writing has appeared in Education Week and Middle Ground, and his poetry has been included in an anthology by Native West Press, and will be published in the prose poetry journal Sentence.

Archives & Special Collections stacks
Photo in Archives & Special Collections stacks @ David Polochanin 2013

 Blog Post 1: On Production

Combing through the archives of this collection has been fascinating, and an extraordinary opportunity. Since my days as a reporting intern for the Boston Globe nearly 20 years ago, I’ve been interested in authors’ behind-the-scenes writing process – perhaps because the art of creation is typically so mysterious. After all, when authors are interviewed by admirers, one of the first questions they are asked is, “How did you write this?” or “Where did the idea come from?”

I am not so much interested in where ideas come from, but I am intrigued with the process of writing itself.

In a way, I am learning that it is not so complicated.

While I have examined only a fraction of what the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection holds, I am struck by the sheer production of some of these authors, the volume of work they have created, and that, it would seem, an author’s ability and determination to produce such large amounts of work are major factors leading to publication, success, accolades, fame. This drive ultimately distinguishes a recreational writer, I think, from writers who earn a living by writing, particularly as a creative writer, for adults and children alike.

Their success is not reliant upon talent, alone.

It takes tenacity to produce. I am reminded of an interview I read recently with Newbery Medal winning author Kate DiCamillo, posted on the website ReadingRockets.org. She said, “I’ve been in so many writing workshops, writing classes, and to the right of me and to the left of me, there’s always somebody much more talented than I am. And what I figured out is they’re not willing to go through the rejection, which is enormous, and then the compromise that comes with editing your work. I decided a long time ago that I didn’t have to be talented. I just had to be persistent, and that that was something that I could control — the persistence. I’ve always been kind of persistent.”

Again and again in author interviews, this is a common refrain. In order to publish your work, one must work hard. Sounds simple. But the determination involved when there are dozens of things vying for our time, is remarkable. It means casting these distractions – the Internet, TV, the laundry, the long shower – aside to sit somewhere and write for extended periods of time. In today’s society, a place where patience is underrated, this kind of discipline is increasingly difficult.

So when I look through boxes of drafts, notes, and manuscripts by such celebrated children’s authors as Eleanor Estes and Ruth Krauss, whose works are well represented in the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection, seeing the sheer amount of their work stacked in box after box on the shelves in the back room, you begin to get a sense of why these are noteworthy writers and why their work is housed in a university archive.

Writing is a way of life. And you can tell that many of the writers here have dedicated their lives to the craft, to creating stories, poetry, or nonfiction. They have been prolific producers. It’s not unlike any other line of work that requires intense focus and discipline in order to rise to the top of a profession. The best physicians are often board-certified, keep up with current research, and teach young doctors in training; the best NBA players spend hours beyond their usual practice and game time to practice three-pointers and free throws and watch video of their games.

‘Consuming’ is the right word to describe this sort of dedication.

In his book The Outliers, author Malcolm Gladwell theorizes that it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at a craft, including reaching the highest levels of achievement in business, technology, sports, and music. I’d argue the same goes for writing. Over 10 years, that’s 1,000 hours a year, or 83 hours a month, 19 hours a week, or about three hours a day. Of course, this is provided that you write every day.

Poring through this collection’s files and folders and the sheer volume of production included here makes it clear, at least in my mind: the more a writer produces, the more likely they are to get published, and the more likely one is to eventually publish work of enduring value. Kate DiCamillo has it right: First comes a stubborn persistence, then comes talent.

 

 

 

 

Through the Lens of an Anthropologist: The Yellow Pages Dress

Carey MacDonald is an undergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern.  In her blog series Through the Lens of an Anthropologist, Carey analyzes artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections.

What began in January 1878 as George Coy’s and Morris Tyler’s New Haven District Telephone Company serving a mere 21 customers in New Haven, Connecticut, ultimately became the Southern New England Telephone Company (SNET) serving millions of customers by 1970.  SNET was a leading force in the evolution of modern communication systems.  Interestingly though, it was also a leading force in creating a profound sense of pride and loyalty among its employees.  What is most intriguing is how SNET achieved this.

Yellow Pages Dress

The ‘Yellow Pages Dress,’ found within the SNET Company Records, was a promotional item for the company’s Ecology Program that began gaining ground in 1968.  A second dress made of yellow pages is found in another grouping of SNET-related items known as the SNET Collection.  According to Laura Smith, Curator for Business, Railroad, and Labor Collections, when the second dress was donated in 2010 by Mr. Joseph Kennedy, a former SNET employee from 1948 to 1978, it was not cited as an Ecology Program promotional item like the first dress was.  However, despite this terminological difference, it is apparent that both dresses stem from the same period of the company’s history.

Both dresses are literally made of yellow pages paper – advertisements and all – which was recycled from old telephone directories, treated, and sewn together into a shift dress shape.  The dresses were made by the Waste Basket Boutique by Mars of Asheville, North Carolina, and some of the other dresses made by the Boutique are also found in the archives of the University of North Carolina Asheville.

Intriguingly, Laura Smith says that it is most likely that these dresses were not actually meant to be worn, but were instead given to employees as pieces of company memorabilia – as representations of the SNET institution as a whole.

Smith says that although both dresses show some slight tearing, they do not appear to have been worn habitually, or even just occasionally, by anyone, further suggesting that their purpose was simply to evoke employees’ loyalty to and pride in the SNET Company.  At a time when unionizing was very common, it was especially important for SNET to keep its employees content.  By organizing such events as sports games and by distributing such things as these yellow pages dresses, for example, SNET could maintain the structure of its business and avoid potential dissent among its employees.

Additionally, the dresses, particularly the one explicitly named as a promotional item for the Ecology Program, helped to foster company cohesion by forming a unifying environmental awareness among employees.  This awareness, in turn, helped SNET develop ecological policies aimed at making a greener Connecticut, as seen in the SNET Company Records collection.

For instance, in the early 1970s, SNET Company President Alfred Van Sinderen enlisted former Connecticut Governor John N. Dempsey to act as an environmental consultant on the potential ecological issues of SNET operations.  Upon spending months in the field observing SNET Company operations, Dempsey wrote his 1977 report, “Impact.”  In it he declares that SNET employees would no doubt accept and support the Ecology Program as some employees freely articulated their sincere concern for the environment.  Dempsey also discusses the need for people in the higher-ranking managerial positions of the company to effect the actual implementation and maintenance of such a program.  Such things as the company dispersal of the 1977 Employee Education handbook, which contains tips for employees on how to be “green” and environmentally sound, worked to create an ecological consciousness within the company.

Ultimately, it appears that SNET developed the yellow pages dresses as part of a 1960s-1970s campaign to gain employees’ dedication to the company as a whole.  It also appears that since one of these dresses was made particularly for the Ecology Program, it was part of the same campaign to unite employees under a company-wide environmental consciousness.  Undoubtedly, the socially unifying and ecologically perceptive policies of Southern New England Telephone are utterly fascinating.  This artifact study looks at the SNET Company as a microcosm of the larger social world in that it demonstrates just how people initiate and contribute to a socially bonding experience or movement.  We can only hope, though, that those who initiate such a unifying movement do it for noble reasons and do it well.

Carey MacDonald, writing intern

Through the Lens of an Anthropologist: The Freshman Beanie

Carey MacDonald is an undergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern.  In her new series Through the Lens of an Anthropologist, Carey analyzes artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections. 

Sociocultural traditions pervade the human experience and provide a reliable mechanism for social cohesion.   It is commonly thought, though, that traditions are strictly old manifestations of an earlier cultural context, when, in actuality, they evolve and create a distinct reality for each successive generation.

Yet traditions only evolve and persist for as long as their adherents maintain, reproduce, and reinforce them in their culture.  Such is the case of the college freshman beanie, a colored cap that freshmen were required to wear as a form of initiation into the greater university social setting.  According to the University Archivist Betsy Pittman, the tradition of wearing this cap was ubiquitous among American universities during the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries.  For younger generations though, this tradition no longer exists in the form that it once did, although there certainly exist other freshman initiation rites, particularly within the scope of Greek life, honor societies, and sports teams.  An example of the UConn freshman beanie tradition comes from the University Memorabilia Collection.

The crown of this beanie resembles a circus tent: it is patterned by six alternating blocks of navy blue and white (university colors) and is held together in the center by a white fabric-covered fastener.  An insignia of ‘5 C 7’ is embroidered on the front of the cap above the narrow, white brim.  ‘5’ and ‘7’ are placed on either side of ‘C’ in a thin, navy blue felt font and represent that freshman class’s graduating year – in this case, the class of 1957.  ‘C’ is sewn in a larger, thicker, navy blue felt font and most likely represents Connecticut.  Also important is the name Eugene H. Starger, which is handwritten in what appears to be thin permanent marker or black pen on the inside rim of the hat.  It seems that Eugene got a lot of use out of his beanie since it is stained; it is apparent that he wore this beanie more than once, as it was a necessary part of his attire for at least some time.

We see the first evidence for the freshman beanie tradition in a student handbook from the academic year of 1921-22 called The Handbook of Connecticut Agricultural College.  In the handbook’s “Message of ’24 to ’25” – as it was written by the class of 1924 to the incoming class of 1925 – we see abrupt, intimidating, student-to-student language used to enforce the university’s traditions:

As your infantile brain could not possibly assimilate the significance of a proper beginning, tradition places the burden of guiding you through this, your first year at C.A.C. on the broad, capable shoulders of the Class of 1924…Transgress sacred College Tradition and never…will the haunting memory cease to picture that terrible night when you so unexpectedly disturbed the Waters of Swan Lake.

This message is clearly intended to ensure that no freshman would ever “transgress sacred College Tradition,” capital letters and all, because if they did, they’d be punished and thrown into the lake.  The handbook continues by giving freshmen explicit instructions for using the beanie.  They were to wear this distinct cap and conform to the rules.  Sophomores were to distribute the caps and enforce the rules.

Thirty-two years later, the student-written Husky Handbook of 1953-54 – the same year that Eugene H. Starger was a freshman – requires freshmen to wear their purchased beanie until the ‘season’ is over.  The season ended if the freshmen won the Frosh-Sophomore Rope Pull contest across Mirror Lake during the first month of school, but if the sophomores won, then the freshmen would have to wear their beanies until Thanksgiving break.

Most importantly, the handbook explains the overall significance of wearing the beanie: the upperclassmen wanted to know who the freshmen were so that they could meet and help them more easily. Interestingly, this section ends by saying, “Wear your Beanie with pride, because we are proud to number you as ‘one of us.’”  Betsy Pittman expands on this notion by describing that the ‘controlled ritual’ of wearing the freshman beanie signaled to others one’s commitment to the university, its culture, and its people.  She also remarks that since the upperclassmen had to wear a beanie during their first year too, the student body in general had this experience to which they could all relate.  This would, in effect, foster a beneficial sense of community, and ultimately, as Pittman says, the “beanie is a physical manifestation of that community.”

Carey MacDonald, writing intern

Through the Lens of an Anthropologist: Abbie Hoffman’s Socks

In her new series Through the Lens of an Anthropologistundergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern Carey MacDonald will analyze artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections.  ‘By asking a set of questions, I intend to reveal and highlight many intricate patterns of human behavior, such as social actions and customs, and the ways in which those patterns of behavior are represented in certain artifacts.” — Carey MacDonald

Clothing, as a fundamental, human form of expression, is symbolic of our cultural, social, and physical environments, as well as of our experiences and beliefs. T-shirts, jerseys, hats, pins – these things are worn as distinct symbols of an individual. But what about a pair of socks?

Abbott “Abbie” Hoffman, the Massachusetts-born activist and co-founder of the Youth International Party, or the Yippies, of the 1960s and ‘70s, is best known for his unabashed and public criticism of American government policies and politicians. He used calculated political theater to engage young people in the political and social issues of the time and to organize them in the effort to reform the government and the nation. Hoffman’s revolutionary ideology manifested itself in his own self-expression; he publicized his ideas by way of media coverage of his demonstrations, as well as through the very clothes he wore on his body.

In the collection of the Hoffman Family Papers we see that Jack Hoffman, Abbie’s younger brother, maintained regular correspondence with Abbie throughout his years of activism.  Jack later gained many of Abbie’s possessions, such as the aforementioned t-shirts, political pins, and, naturally, a dirty, well-worn pair of red, white, and blue socks that resemble the American flag. The socks’ knitting is worn away in the toes, heels, and calves, indicating their habitual use. Since he frequently wore them and kept them long enough for them to eventually reach his brother, these red, white, and blue socks must have meant something to Abbie. And they certainly mean something to us today about his life and his activism.

At the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, Abbie and eight other leaders and their Yippie followers held a demonstration against the war in Vietnam and pushed for social and political reform in Washington. In an amateur video taken of Abbie discussing the forthcoming demonstration in Chicago, he articulates his plan to take social action at the Convention for the exact purpose that there would be extensive media coverage of the goings-on. He expected that every hour or so during the televised Convention the cameras would cut from the politicians’ speeches to the Yippies’ demonstration, and the viewers would immediately be interested in what they were doing. In preparation for the demonstration, the mayor appeared on television constantly and stationed police forces and Secret Service agents in the city. In interviews with journalists prior to the event, Abbie likened the whole scene to an exciting football game, like the Rose Bowl. By implementing dramatic, theatrical tactics to capture the public’s attention, Abbie and his Yippie friends could deliver their message in the spotlight.

However, to the Mayor and politicians, the demonstration at the DNC was viewed as a violation of the Anti-Riot Act that had been established in April 1968 after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Similarly, the American flag t-shirt that Abbie wore during the ensuing trial of the demonstration leaders, who were known as the Chicago Seven, was perceived by the judge as a desecration of the flag, a national symbol that is meant to be revered.  By practicing these forms of political theater, Abbie Hoffman managed to create “an advertisement for revolution,” as he calls it in his 1968 book, Revolution for the Hell of It. As for his red, white, and blue socks, it is very possible that he wore them to be viewed as a defilement of the flag. Or, after he was acquitted of conspiracy in 1973, he may have worn them during the years that he was on the run after jumping bail for his arrest for cocaine possession.

Yet it is also conceivable that he wore them to promote his image of a new, reformed America. He could have been expressing his patriotism and hope to his fellow Yippies and Americans, and since he personally knew he was wearing them, they could have symbolized, for himself, his idealism and belief in social change.

Carey MacDonald, writing intern

National History Day, “Turning Points,” and connecticuthistory.org

In the years that I have been a curator here in Archives & Special Collections I have been fortunate to work with a wide array of researchers, from academic scholars, graduate and undergraduate students, and genealogists to railroad fans, lawyers and preservationists, but I admit to you all right here and right now that I get the most satisfaction when I work with middle school and high school students, those who are at the early point of discovering the wonder and power of primary sources.   And one of the ways we get to work with young students is to help them find the resources they need for National History Day projects.

Never heard of National History Day?  Here is the description of the contest from the website at http://www.nhd.org/:

“Each year, more than half a million students, encouraged by thousands of teachers nationwide participate in the NHD contest. Students choose historical topics related to a theme and conduct extensive primary and secondary research through libraries, archives, museums, oral history interviews and historic sites. After analyzing and interpreting their sources and drawing conclusions about their topics’ significance in history, students present their work in original papers, websites, exhibits, performances and documentaries. These products are entered into competitions in the spring at local, state and national levels where they are evaluated by professional historians and educators. The program culminates in the Kenneth E. Behring National Contest each June held at the University of Maryland at College Park.”

Thomas J. Dodd at the Nuremberg Trials, 1945-1946, from the Thomas J. Dodd Papers

We here in Archives & Special Collections are collaborating with connecticuthistory.org by choosing materials from our collections and providing these sources and essays for students to use for their NHD projects.  Two of the essays are currently online (with more to come), which include:

Connecticut Lawyer Prosecutes Nazi War Criminals at Nuremberg, which describes the work of Thomas J. Dodd, who served on the Executive Trial Council at the Nuremberg Trials following World War II, and the tragedy of Kristallnacht, a turning point that unleashed the persecution of European Jews by the Nazi regime.

Reporting News of Pearl Harbor, which tells of how Andre Schenker, a professor of history at the University of Connecticut and a commentator for Hartford radio station WTIC in the 1940s, reported this shattering world event — a turning point in history if there ever was one — to his Connecticut listeners.

There are more “Turning Points” to come, so stay tuned.  Also, if you haven’t tooled around connecticuthistory.org then spend a few minutes with this extraordinary resource, reading the essays and looking at the unique photographs and documents.  There is a lot to learn there about the history of Connecticut!

Laura Smith, Curator for Business, Railroad and Labor Collections

Tomie dePaola receives Society of Illustrators’ Lifetime Achievement Award

CongrOliver Button is a Sissy (pg. 5)atulations, Tomie!  According to the Society’s home page, “The Lifetime Achievement Awards were established in 2005 by past chairs of The Original Art. Nominees must be judged to have a body of work that documents an innovative and pioneering contribution to the field of children’s book illustration, and final selection is made by artists whose work has been juried into the previous year’s show. ”

From an early age, Tomie and his parents knew he would be an artist. He received his Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York where he studied Art. His Master of Fine Arts degree was received from the California College of Arts and Crafts in Oakland, California. He has also been awarded three honorary Doctorate degrees from separate Universities and Colleges.

Tomie’s Tomie dePaolacareer as a professional artist and designer, former teacher of art, children’s author and illustrator is expansive. He has designed greeting cards, posters, magazine and catalogue covers, record album covers, and theater costumes and sets. He has illustrated over two hundred books, and written over seventy. Tomie has won numerous awards, including the prestigious American Library Association’s Caldecott Honor Award for Strega Nona (1976), the University of Minnesota’s Kerlan Award (1981), the Catholic Library Association’s Regina Medal (1983), and the Smithsonian Institution’s Smithson Medal (1990).

Tomie’s books have been published world-wide in fifteen different languages and he has over five million copies in print. Many of his books are largely autobiographical such as Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs, Tom, and The Art Lesson. Tomie currently resides in New Hampshire.

The Tomie dePaola Collection contains artwork, sketch books and paintings from the beginning of his career, as well as many different editions from each book he wrote or illustrated, including foreign editions. Some of the languages represented are Portuguese, Swedish, Finnish, French Canadian, German, Afrikaans, and even Zulu. Original Little Tomieillustrations from books, as well as paintings and other art work spanning from his childhood years are included. The Collection also contains marketing items from his books, such as towels, porcelain jewelry containers, music boxes, paper goods (wrapping paper, cups & plates), quilts from schools, and a large selection of Christmas tree ornaments designed by Tomie for the Marshall Fields Christmas trees in Chicago.

Well done, Tomie!

–Terri J. Goldich, Curator, Northeast Children’s Literature Collection

September workshop on the arts

Aside

“Crafting a public identity: a workshop for creative artists, writers and performers on navigating the arts business maze” will be presented at the Thomas J. Dodd Research Center on September 28, 2012, from 1-3:30pm in Konover Auditorium. Susan Raab, CEO of Raab Associates, will moderate a panel consisting of Charles Coe, Program Officer at the Massachusetts Cultural Council; Sharon Butler, Professor at Eastern Connecticut State University; Jeff Raab, 2012 graduate of NYU’s Steinhardt Musical Theatre Program;  Roxie Munro, author/illustrator of over 35 children’s books; and Laura Rossi Totten, a book publishing and public relations expert.

"Crafting a Public Identity" Workshop 9/28/2012 Dodd Research Center, Storrs, CT

“Crafting a Public Identity” Workshop 9/28/2012 Dodd Research Center, Storrs, CT

The panel will discuss the strategies, techniques and tools used to build an effective marketing presence.  The workshop is sponsored by the Aetna Chair of Writing, English Department at the University of Connecticut, The Straightors Fund, and the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection at the UConn Libraries.  Attendance is limited, so reserve now with jean.nelson@lib.uconn.edu.

–Terri J. Goldich, Curator, Northeast Children’s Literature Collection