Energy & Power

• 

  A cheerful Depression-era holiday greeting

  Description

  A cheerful holiday greeting sent during the Great Depression? Isn't that somewhat contradictory? 1933 was a difficult year. Unemployment reached 25%, and gross domestic production was way down. The New Deal programs designed to boost the economy had not yet begun to achieve the helpful effects that would come in the next few years. Times were hard for many people across the United States and elsewhere in the world.

  

  Despite the glum economic situation, the Pinero family used a brown paper bag to fashion an inexpensive holiday greeting card. They penned a clever rhyme and added some charming line drawings of Mom, Dad, and the kids with the message: "Oh, well—in spite of it all—here's a Merry Christmas from the Pineros." On December 19, 1933, they mailed it from Chicago to friends in Massachusetts, using a one-and-a-half-cent stamp. For a minimal outlay of cash, they were able to keep in touch with friends and comment on their reduced circumstances with wit and humor.

  "In days gone by when we were broke
  We hated to reveal it.
  In fact our pride demanded that
  We struggle to conceal it.
  But now at last we’re right in style
  And need not fear confession.
  We shrug and smile and say 'Oh, well
  It’s merely this depression.'
  And so this card which once we'd scorn
  Now seems within all reason.
  It’s cheap—and yet it brings to you
  Best wishes of the season!"

  

  This hand-lettered poem is a delightful example of light verse, a whimsical form of poetry intended to entertain or amuse, even if treating a serious subject in a humorous manner. In the poem, the Pineros suggest that they had struggled economically for some time, but now, due to the continuing Depression, others shared their financial plight, which enabled them to be more open and candid about their situation.

  Like many families, the Pineros probably had lots of bills for necessities including rent, groceries, utilities, milk, and ice. Because not every family had electric refrigeration in 1933, many relied on regular deliveries of ice to keep their perishable foods cold. These bills for milk and ice were separate; they were not part of the grocery account. Local dairies supplied milk and other products on a daily basis. Both the Ice Man and the Milk Man would cometh, as long as they were paid!

  

  While we've done some searching in various places such as city directories and genealogical resources, we haven't yet been able to identify the senders, the Pineros. This card was saved by the recipients, the McCormicks of Attleboro, Massachusetts. It was donated by their son Peter McCormick, who wrote that he never knew the family who sent it to his parents in 1933.

  Helena E. Wright is curator in the Division of Culture and the Arts.

  Related Staff Member: 

  wrighth

  Posted Date: 

  Thursday, December 15, 2016 - 08:00

  Categories:

  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Thu, 15 Dec 2016 16:52:11 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Samuel Finley Breese Morse: Artist and Inventor

  Synopsis

  The National Museum of American History and photographer Robert Weingarten are working in collaboration to build a historic portrait with help from the public. During the week of May 7-11, the museum [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Mary Lou Williams: Musical and social change agent

  Synopsis

  Portrait of Mary Lou Williams, CBS studio, New York, N.Y., ca. April 1947. Courtesy of William P. Gottlieb/Ira and Leonore S. Gershwin Fund Collection, Music Division, Library of Congress Mary Lou Wi [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  How black Philadelphians fought for soldiers during World War I

  Description

  Suffering from "shell shock and a general breakdown," Charles Mackall and James Randall arrived in Philadelphia in September 1918 from military service in France in the Great War. Mackall had been in trenches on the front line and had lain unconscious for 10 days. Randall had been a water tank driver. His afflictions, a newspaper article in The Chicago Defender reported, had left him unfit for military service.

  

  The men belonged to the United States Army's 301st Quartermaster Corps, a unit providing support to combat troops. In spite of their service to the country and their "invalided condition," the two injured soldiers lacked access to medical care available to other troops. The reason: Mackall and Randall were African American. However, thanks to the philanthropic efforts of black Americans and white supporters, both men "were immediately provided for," the Defender explained, "by the Crispus Attucks Circle, an organization for war and relief work among our Race."

  

  Since the colonial era, in times of peace and war, the African American experience of inequality included being denied medical treatment equal to that received by white peers. Unequal treatment continued during World War I. Not even the era's increasing humanitarian efforts were immune to inequality.

  

  After the United States entered the conflict in April 1917, millions of Americans donated to the American Red Cross and other relief agencies to help U.S. troops and foreign civilians. Along with their other contributions, women knitted hats, mittens, and other woolens for soldiers; conserved foodstuffs to ensure an adequate supply for the military and overseas civilians; and volunteered at recreational centers for troops stationed in the United States. Thousands of women volunteered to go abroad to aid soldiers and foreign civilians. These and other contributions made by millions of Americans provided vital aid to American troops and extended the tradition of American philanthropy overseas to assist many more people. African American women and men participated in the ways all Americans did, yet white-led relief organizations routinely maintained segregated facilities, limited opportunities for black community members to become involved, and denied or provided unequal services to black soldiers and civilians.

  

  In the face of this long history of discrimination, African Americans during World War I worked to help members of their community. The Crispus Attucks Circle for War Relief, the group that helped Mackall and Randall, was one such effort. Led by the well-known Archdeacon Henry L. Philips and other African American community leaders, the organization raised funds for Mercy Hospital, a new hospital being built under African American control to serve African American soldiers.

  

  The group's name honored a notable figure from the country's founding years. In 1770 Crispus Attucks, a Massachusetts man of African and Native ancestry, was the first casualty of the Boston Massacre and thus of the American Revolution. Invoking Attucks reminded the public of the sacrifices African Americans had long made for the country.

  The aims of Mercy Hospital encompassed more than providing medical care to African American patients. The hospital also sought to employ and train black medical staff. That aspect of the mission helped efforts to promote equality by creating professional opportunities for black doctors and nurses, who were denied similar opportunities in other hospitals. An increase in well-trained African American medical staff promised greater access to good medical care for African American patients.

  Mackall and Randall received assistance from the Crispus Attucks Circle while work on Mercy Hospital was underway. By the spring of 1919, the hospital was ready to open formally. Many people contributed—from John T. Gibson, a successful African American theater owner who donated a couple days' proceeds, to John Wanamaker, a white department store magnate whose store featured a window display for the fundraising drive. On June 1, the hospital was dedicated. Various dignitaries spoke, and, as a newspaper reported, "solos were rendered by Mme. Florence Cole Talbert, of Detroit, and Miss Marian Anderson" of Philadelphia.

  

  In 1943, when the United States was fighting in another world war, the now-famous Anderson sang at an American Red Cross benefit held at Constitution Hall. A few years earlier, she had been denied the opportunity to perform there because of her race. At this event, not only did she perform, but also the hall sold tickets "without discrimination." Like many other African Americans, she was again contributing to the country's war and relief efforts. She was also continuing the struggle for African American equality and independence that had shaped the philanthropy of supporters of the Crispus Attucks Circle.

   

  Amanda B. Moniz is the David M. Rubenstein Curator of Philanthropy in the Division of Work and Industry.

  The Philanthropy Initiative is made possible by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and David M. Rubenstein, with additional support by the Fidelity Charitable Trustees' Initiative, a grantmaking program of Fidelity Charitable.

  Related Staff Member: 

  MonizA

  Posted Date: 

  Thursday, November 8, 2018 - 13:30

  Categories:

  • Philanthropy
  • Stories of Freedom & Justice
  • World War I
  • Medicine & Science
  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Thu, 08 Nov 2018 18:32:47 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Thanksgiving at the lunch table

  Synopsis

  In our latest episode of the “Meet Our Museum” podcast series, we talked with curator Rayna Green, a specialist in American Indian history and foodways, about American Thanksgiving traditions. We’ve [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Forgotten early sound recordings given a voice

  Synopsis

  Editor’s note: This blog is the second of a two-part series exploring the process of bringing early sound recordings to life for the first time in over a century. There is always something new waitin [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  A Scout By Any Other Name

  Description

  In May 2018, the Boy Scouts of America changed the name of its program for older children to Scouts BSA and opened membership to girls for the first time. Girl Scouts of the USA initially responded to the change by emphasizing the unique nature of its program for girls. However, in November 2018 Girl Scouts filed a lawsuit against BSA in federal court, claiming trademark infringement, unfair competition, and brand confusion related to the decision to remove the “Boy” from “Scouts.” Cooperation and conflict between the two organizations has waxed and waned over time, and the separation and overlap of scouting for boys and girls has been a sometimes contentious issue from the beginnings of the groups, over 100 years ago. Such disagreements, both in the past and today, remind us that volunteer organizations and organizations for children can be important indicators of larger cultural conversations around gender and equality.

  James E. West was not pleased. In 1913, just one year after its foundation, the Girl Guides of America had changed its name to the Girl Scouts of the United States of America. West, the Chief Boy Scout Executive, worried that use of the term “scouts” by the all-girls’ group “trivialized” and “sissified” his Boy Scouts. West wrote letter after letter to that effect, and brought legal challenges against Girl Scouts in an effort to control the moniker.

  West’s objections to the group did not stop there. Boy Scouts wore khaki uniforms, similar to the military uniforms of the day. When Girl Scouts started wearing khaki uniforms too, West called them “mannish.” Couldn’t they be more like the Camp Fire Girls? For that matter, why couldn’t they just merge?

  

  In the early decades of the Boy Scouts of America, West and his supporters saw any crossover with Girl Scouts as a blow to the burgeoning masculinity of Boy Scouts. They feared boys wouldn’t want to do anything that girls were also doing. Critics also worried about girls becoming “tomboys” who would reject the more socially acceptable roles for women in the domestic sphere—homemaker, wife, mother.

  In contrast, the more popular scouting group for young women at the time, the Camp Fire Girls of America, promoted “womanly qualities.” Instead of badges, Camp Fire Girls had a system of bead rewards, called “honors,” that recognized repeated tasks and skills such as cooking, sewing, or caring for the sick and injured. Even skills that fell under “camp craft” and “nature lore” had underlying domestic applications. And unlike the Girl Scouts, the Camp Fire Girls steered clear of overlap with the Boy Scout program. Camp Fire Girls founders, having worked with James E. West to develop the organization, actively partnered with the BSA to create activities that were, as West put it, “fundamentally different from those of the boys.”

  

  The Girl Scouts, on the other hand, sought to prepare citizens—not just homemakers. Badges were still awarded for domestic tasks like housekeeping and sewing, but also for things like automobiling and civics. As one national Girl Scouts board member wrote, “Now that [the right to vote] has been extended to women of this state . . .  I believe there is no better way for [children] to learn to become good citizens than to learn to become the best kind of Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts.”

  

  Girl Scouts detractors referenced the right to vote in their objections as well. In 1922 one Boy Scout commissioner complained that “since the ballot came through,” women want to “wear the breeches,” “bob her hair,” and “assume rights and privileges of men.”

  However, not all Boy Scouts shared these opinions. One Boy Scout master contacted Girl Scout founder Juliette Gordon Low personally, writing, “Boys and girls play together and must in these times learn to work together. Men and women are united in the struggle for Democracy. . . . I am convinced that Girls are just as good Scouts as Boys.”

  Indeed, the similarity between Boy Scouts and Girls Scouts isn’t surprising. Both trace their roots back to the same person: Robert Baden-Powell. An officer in the British Army in the late 1800s and early 1900s, he developed a training regimen that focused on outdoor activity, skill development, and character building for his officers. When he published his “scout method,” it became wildly popular with young men and youth groups, so Baden-Powell republished it as a handbook for civilian youth.

  Back in the United States, there had been a burgeoning “back to nature” movement since the late 1800s. Youth organizations and scout-like groups were popping up to ensure children were exposed to healthy outdoor activities. Baden-Powell’s scout handbook made its way to the States, and the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts soon followed. The Boy Scouts of America was founded in 1910 by newspaper publisher W.D. Boyce, who soon after handed the reins to James E. West. The Girl Scouts were founded by Juliette Gordon Low in 1912. They were originally modeled on the British “Girl Guides” founded by Agnes Baden-Powell, Robert’s younger sister. When the American Girl Guides changed its names to Girl Scouts and their uniforms to khaki—that’s when the trouble really started.

  

  During those first decades of American scouting, the tension between the Girl Scouts and the Boy Scouts was never truly resolved. Eventually, the Girl Scouts surpassed Camp Fire Girls as the most popular scouting group. Several elements collaborated to blunt the anti-Girl Scout criticism. Larger cultural shifts like women’s suffrage gained momentum, and Girl Scouts demonstrated effective service on the home front during the First World War. In the mid-1920s, the group even changed its uniforms to green, moving away from the more militaristic khaki. Both the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts organizations grew into hallmarks of American childhood. But West never got over the name change. He kept complaining about it until his retirement in the 1940s.

  

  Tim Winkle is a curator in the Division of Cultural and Community Life at the National Museum of American History. Amanda B. Moniz is the David M. Rubenstein Curator of Philanthropy in the Division of Home and Community Life. Amelia Grabowski is a social media and blog assistant focusing on business and philanthropy history.

  Special thanks to Mary Aickin Rothschild, whose article “To Scout or to Guide? The Girl Scout-Boy Scout Controversy, 1912–1941” provided many of the quotes in this post.
  The Philanthropy Initiative is made possible by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and David M. Rubenstein, with additional support by the Fidelity Charitable Trustees’ Initiative, a grant making program of Fidelity Charitable.

  Author(s): 

  Tim Winkle, Amanda B. Moniz, and Amelia Grabowski

  Posted Date: 

  Tuesday, March 12, 2019 - 14:00

  Categories:

  • From the Collections
  • Philanthropy
  • America Participates

  

  

  Published Date

  Mon, 11 Mar 2019 18:01:18 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Architectural drawings and state secrets

  Description

  If you frequent the object groups of the National Museum of American History online, you may have noticed a recent addition (group link at end of post). These objects look like a cross between doll-house furniture and some strange science experiment. To explain what these intriguing mathematical objects are would be too, well, mathematical. Let me tell you a story instead.

  

  A young French draftsman brooded over his drawings. He was working on something new, a new way of thinking about drawing. He had come to the notice of the French authorities a few years earlier for his masterful drawings of his hometown of Beaune, in the east of France. He was appointed a draftsman at the École Royale du Génie in 1765, at age 19. But young Gaspard Monge had already shown his talents, completing his college courses by age 17. The year after his appointment, he was asked to draw plans that would prevent attackers from seeing into or firing on fortifications, while at the same time allowing defenders to have clear visibility and avoiding dead zones, locations below the fortification walls shielded from defender's fire.

  Constructing ever more elaborate fortifications was the arms race of most of the 20th century. By this time in European history, star forts were the pinnacle of fortification technology, and were seen across Europe and in the American colonies. First constructed in Italy in the 15th century, star forts only became obsolete in the 18th century with the advent of high-power artillery that could breach even thick masonry walls. Castillo de San Marco in St. Augustine, Florida, is a simple yet impressive example. The complex Bourtange fortification in Groningen in the Netherlands is a stunning piece of engineering. The sharp corners that look out as well as back at the fort allow defenders complete line-of-sight to their attackers. But how to draw the plans for these increasingly complex constructions, with their walls that nowhere meet at right angles, and their tunnels and corridors inside? That is what kept Monge at his desk late into the night.

  Traditional building plans consisted of what are known as plan views. A drawing would be made of what the building was to look like from each side, the top, and the floor (or its footprint). For interior spaces, the same types of drawings were made. But this left engineers and builders with no clear idea of how walls should join or stairwells connect to different levels. In particular, the geometry of how various architectural elements came together was missing. This was the puzzle young Monge stewed over at age 20. Then he hit on it. If two views could somehow be produced on the same piece of paper, maybe the angles of intersection of walls and tunnels could be shown. Monge realized that by projecting the design element both vertically and horizontally, all the geometry could be captured. Gaspard Monge had created Descriptive Geometry. It was the first time the geometry of three-dimensional objects could be captured accurately—the computer-aided design of its day.

  But before it was barely out of the box, Descriptive Geometry disappeared for several years, having been quickly classified as a state secret by the French government and only taught at the French military academies. But by 1799 it was no longer classified and the first text book on Descriptive Geometry was published, Monge's Géométrie descriptive: Leçons données aux écoles normales. Descriptive Geometry quickly became an important component of the training of engineers and military officers throughout the western world, being taught at the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York, since its founding in 1802 until the advent of computer-aided drawing systems in the mid-20th century. Monge's career soared. He became the director of France's premiere engineering school, the École Polytechnique, and accompanied Napoleon on his infamous expedition to Egypt.

  After Monge, several other mathematicians took up the mantle, pushing Descriptive Geometry further and writing more text books. One such author was A. Jullien, an instructor at the Lycée Sainte-Barbe, who produced the text, Cours élémentaire de géométrie descriptive. Lacking a way to effectively allow his students to visualize how three-dimensional objects are rendered in Descriptive Geometry, Jullien constructed a set of 30 handheld models, called reliefs. These delicate objects, made of wire and paper, joined the collections of the National Museum of American History in 1986. They were to be used in the classroom, following the text, just as a modern electronic text has animations or interactive applications at key points. The third edition of Jullien's text appeared in 1881 and is available on Google Books. Readers are encouraged to access the text and the images of each relief found in the object group for these models.

  

  These 30 models progress from simple, showing how to render a point or a straight line…

  

  …to the complex, the construction of a slanted pyramid.

  

  By looking at the image above, you can almost see, or imagine, the pyramid, represented by the strings, being projected backward onto the vertical plane, as well as downward onto the horizontal plane. When that piece of papers is laid flat, the geometry of the object, shown by the additional lines and curves on the card, can be interpreted using traditional Euclidean methods.

  To better allow you to see this, I have created my own version of relief 6, which shows the construction of a line parallel to a given line through a point. The given line is the red string on the right and the point through which the parallel is to be constructed is shown as the bend in the wire on the left at point (m, m'). The constructed parallel is the red string on the left.

  

  In the image below, I have built my own version of relief 6 out of the (apropos) empty box my migraine medicine comes in.

  

  Below is the paper the projections were drawn on laid flat, as it would appear in an architectural drawing or Descriptive Geometry textbook. In this form, the angles at which the lines meet the vertical and the horizontal planes can be seen, giving the designer or architect clear details of the geometry of the object being portrayed. The horizontal line at Q is the fold, and the strings would run from f' to e and d' to c.

  

  In current mathematical, engineering, or design courses, three-dimensional objects are rendered using any one of several lightning-fast computer algebra or drawing systems such as MATLAB or Mathematica. But teachers have always sought ways to bring mathematical objects to life for their students. Wood, metal, and plaster models have been used in the classroom for centuries. The museum has approximately 30 mathematics-related object groups, several of which are of educational models for you to explore. But rarely are classroom models of such ingenuity and delicacy as the Jullien Models of Descriptive Geometry.

  They are so beautifully made they reminded me of doll-house furniture the first time I saw them.

  To learn more and explore the full set of Jullien models for Descriptive Geometry, visit our online object group.

  Dr. Amy Shell-Gellasch, who volunteers at the museum, is an historian of mathematics and Associate Professor of Mathematics at Montgomery College in Rockville, Maryland.

  Author(s): 

  Dr. Amy Shell-Gellasch

  Posted Date: 

  Monday, October 24, 2016 - 08:00

  Categories:

  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Fri, 02 Sep 2016 19:06:25 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Help the museum dig into mining history!

  Description

  Update: The project to transcribe our 1897 mining journal is now complete! Over 50 digital volunteers from 15 different countries contributed to the project, transcribing handwritten notes on over 200 pages. We sincerely appreciate the efforts of everyone who helped transcribe the journal and spread the word about this project. The journal is now available online and will be studied by researchers, students, and the public to better understand mining history.

  ---

  On September 6, 1897, an employee at an eastern Pennsylvania coal company penned a terse message in the company's daily journal:

  "Colliers idle...Labor Day...Few men working...Colliers idle."

  

  For scholars, these nine words provide a vital insight into American history. Why? In 1897, Labor Day was a relatively new holiday. In fact, when the company's employee penned this short missive, it had only been three years since Congress—following the lead of 23 state legislatures, including Pennsylvania in 1889—had officially designated the first Monday of September as Labor Day, a "legal public holiday" for all Americans. Nevertheless, thanks to historical sources like this journal, we can know that Pennsylvania coal miners—many of whom were new immigrants to the United States—had taken Congress's message to heart. They stayed home, and the colliers (a term synonymous with "coal mine") stood idle.

   

  

  The museum is inviting the public to help us transcribe this handwritten 1897 mining journal, in the hopes that, together, we can uncover even more fascinating insights into the joined histories of labor and business in the United States. Beginning August 25, 2016, the journal will be publicly available through the Smithsonian's Transcription Center. By signing up as a digital volunteer, visitors will be able to browse through all of the journal's more than 400 pages, transcribe any entries that catch their eye, and review entries transcribed by other volunteers.  Thanks to volunteers’ efforts, researchers and enthusiasts around the world will soon have the opportunity to discover, explore, and cite this rare historical record.

   

  For Peter Liebhold, curator in the museum's Division of Work and Industry, the transcription project is the natural next step in a more than five-year-long relationship with the 1897 artifact. Although the journal has been a part of the museum's collections since the mid-20th century, it was rediscovered by the division's collections manager, Shari Stout, during a 2011 reorganization of the museum's mining collection. (The reorganization also led to other discoveries, including a series of rare photographs taken inside an 1884 Pennsylvania coal mine.)

   

  

  Although the journal included very little documentation beyond a small card that read "Mill Creek Coal Company Vulcan and Buck Mt. collieries," its sharp tone (at times bordering on sarcastic) immediately caught curator Liebhold's eye. At the time, Liebhold was furiously making plans for American Enterprise, a permanent exhibition on the history of business in the United States, and the journal presented a rare opportunity to humanize an important but otherwise esoteric topic: changing work patterns and the rise of “management” as a profession in the late 1800s. Thanks in large part to the journal's influence, when the exhibition opened in the summer of 2015, it included a section titled "Workers and Managers," which introduces visitors to the distinct and often opposing worldviews of miners and mine-owners in Pennsylvania coal country.

   

  

  According to Liebhold, the mining journal is unusually significant because it captures a pivotal period in U.S. labor history. Coal mining was a booming U.S. industry in the late 1800s. Throughout the summer of 1897, the coal fields of Pennsylvania and other states were shaken by waves of protests and strikes, many of them spearheaded by a then-young union, the United Mine Workers of America. The journal captures the day-to-day effects of these strikes, and it also shows how managers and miners responded to one of the darkest moments in U.S. mining history—the "Lattimer  massacre."

   

  On September 10, 1897, the sheriff of Luzerne County, Pennsylvania, and a posse of armed supporters opened fire on a group of striking mine workers. Nineteen miners died; 36 more were wounded. Since the Vulcan and Buck Mountain colliers were close neighbors to Luzerne County, the clerk who filled out the 1897 journal carefully described both the massacre and its fallout, giving readers a firsthand view of what this disturbance felt like to people who lived through it.

  
  

  Not all of the journal's entries focus on the give-and-take between mine workers and managers. Many simply capture the day-to-day rhythm of life in Pennsylvania coal country: the changing seasons and weather, the breakdown and repair of machines, even the fate of the year's huckleberry harvest. Other events recorded in the journal, Liebhold noted, resist easy classification, such as when a deceased miner was discovered in a well, or when a former employee returned to the mine to show off a diamond he had acquired on an expedition to South Africa. Transcribing these stories will certainly offer new insights into the history of mining in the United States, but Liebhold suspects that's only the tip of the iceberg. "The most exciting use of the journal," said Liebhold, "is something we can't predict; it's probably something we haven't even thought of yet!"

   

  

  Interested in exploring the journal for yourself? Visit the project at the Transcription Center today, and try your hand as a digital volunteer. In the weeks ahead, the museum will be sharing more mining history stories on our blog, Facebook page, Instagram, and Twitter. After the journal's transcription is complete, the museum will hold a Twitter chat with curator Peter Liebhold to answer volunteers’ questions and explore some of the stories they uncovered in the journal.

   

  Jordan Grant is a New Media assistant working with the American Enterprise exhibition. He has also blogged about the complicated history of May Day in the United States.

   

  Related Staff Member: 

  GrantJo

  Posted Date: 

  Monday, August 29, 2016 - 08:00

  Categories:

  • America Participates
  • Business History
  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Thu, 25 Aug 2016 20:17:06 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Meet the Muppets

  Description

  You know Kermit, Bert and Ernie, Cookie Monster, and the rest of the Sesame Street gang. But you might be surprised to learn their backstories, their missions, and the inspiration for each of them.

  Kermit

  

  Did you know that Kermit is considered Jim Henson’s alter ego?

  Kermit made his debut in 1955 on Jim Henson’s first television program, Sam and Friends, which aired on Washington, D.C.’s NBC station WRC-TV until 1961. The original version of Kermit was made from an old spring coat belonging to Henson’s mother and a pair of Henson’s blue jeans.

  

  Kermit appeared again in a brief promotional film for Sesame Street in 1969, followed by appearances on Sesame Street and starring roles in other Jim Henson productions.

  He was originally performed by Jim Henson. Through Kermit, children learn about self-acceptance as they see the frog struggling with his green color but accepting himself in the end.

  Grover

  

  When the original Grover was created in 1967, he didn’t have a name, he was green, and his nose was orange. Grover first appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show, then joined the cast of Sesame Street, where his name was announced during the first season. During season two, Grover appeared with his now-familiar blue color and a pink nose. (Guess it wasn’t easy being green?) Grover was originally performed by Frank Oz, who was inspired by some of his dog’s mannerisms in portraying this monster. That’s why you can see Grover tilting his head sometimes.

  Sesame Street’s writers wanted Grover’s character to represent the psychological age of a four-year-old. Grover likes to help, and he tries his hardest. He is loyal and loves to talk without using contractions in his words, saying things like, "I am Grover, I am your waiter, and I am here to serve you. What can I get you?”

  Oscar

  

  Jim Henson and Jon Stone—a Sesame Street writer and producer—used to frequent a restaurant, Oscar’s Salt of the Sea. The owner, Oscar, was very rude, which is how Oscar got his name!

  Oscar was originally purple in Jim Henson’s drawings for the character. He was then briefly orange, until 1970 when he became his signature green. Caroll Spinney, who originally performed Oscar, was inspired by a taxi driver to create his voice. Oscar teaches values such as tolerance, inclusion, and kindness. Eric Jacobson is currently performing this puppet.

  Bert and Ernie

  

  The first appearance of these two puppets was in the first test episode of Sesame Street in 1969, where they taught the audience the number two. Bert is serious, while Ernie is more cheerful and innocent. Through their disagreements, they represent the importance of cooperation; they remain best friends despite their different personalities.

  Big Bird and Snuffy

  

  Big Bird is a six-year-old preschooler and has been since he was created in 1969. This role was originally offered to Frank Oz, who also plays Bert, but he did not feel comfortable in the costume, and Caroll Spinney took the role. Big Bird helps children understand basic reasoning skills and the importance of friendship.

  Big Bird’s best friend, Snuffy, may look like a woolly mammoth, but he’s a Snuffleupagus. When Snuffy was first introduced, all the adults in the show thought that Snuffy was Big Bird’s imaginary friend. He didn’t appear when adults were around and seemed fantastical.

  However, in the 1980s, the showrunners were concerned with accounts of unreported child abuse and worried that by portraying adults who didn’t believe their six-year-old protagonist, they were discouraging real children from speaking up. So Sesame Street finally revealed Snuffy was real. “At last! Joy! Joy! I told you there was a Snuffleupagus and at last you’ve seen him, and you’ve got to believe it," Big Bird exclaims. The adults apologize to our feathered friend and proclaim, “From now on, we’ll believe you whenever you tell us something.” The point is driven home, and Snuffy quips, “Maybe we should get that in writing.”

  Cookie Monster

  

  Cookie Monster was first created in 1966 for an unaired commercial in which hungry monsters devoured different types of General Foods snacks. However, Cookie Monster was repurposed on Sesame Street in 1969 and given a new favorite food—cookies! Originally performed by Frank Oz, Cookie Monster is able to feed himself because his hands are simply gloves over the performer’s hands. All the cookies that he eats go through a hole in his mouth leading to the puppeteer’s sleeve.

  Gabriela Sama was a curatorial intern in the museum’s Division of the Culture and the Arts.

  Please Note: Your favorite Muppet may not be on display when you visit. We rotate them frequently to provide the best care for them.

  Author(s): 

  Gabriela Sama

  Posted Date: 

  Friday, November 8, 2019 - 14:30

  Categories:

  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Tue, 05 Nov 2019 17:32:19 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  The 10 most-read posts of 2017

  Description

  2017 was another incredible year on the museum’s blog. More than a few of our most-read posts focused on how the museum continues to grow with new exhibitions, new staff, and new collections. However, none of this work would have been possible without all of you, our readers. Several of the year’s most popular stories were about projects that depended on public participation—everything from transcribing jokes in Phyllis Diller’s gag file to donating money to conserve the Ruby Slippers. We can never say it enough: thank you all for making our work possible!

  1. Help us transcribe Phyllis Diller's jokes—and enjoy some laughs along the way!

  We asked, and you answered! In 2017, digital volunteers from around the world helped the museum transcribe all 52,569 notecards in Phyllis Diller’s gag file—a 51-drawer card catalog in which the legendary comedian kept her jokes meticulously organized. The jokes are now fully searchable through the Smithsonian Transcription Center’s website, giving us a whole new window into the history of American comedy.

  

  2. Who tells Eliza's story? Philanthropy and Hamilton: An American Musical

  One of this year’s highlights was the donation of two objects that connect over 200 years of philanthropy history. The first: a portrait of Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton that once hung in the orphanage she helped found and lead. The second: a green suit from the Broadway hit Hamilton: An American Musical. Designed by Tony award-winning costume designer Paul Tazewell, Lin-Manuel Miranda wears the suit as Alexander Hamilton in the musical’s second act. The cast and crew of Hamilton not only sang about philanthropy, but supported the organization Eliza Hamilton helped found. (Sidenote for Hamilton fans: the suit will briefly be on display at the museum starting March 22, 2018, through late spring.)

  

  3. The continuing tradition: The Smithsonian receives Mrs. Trump's inaugural gown

  In October, curator Lisa Kathleen Graddy used the occasion of the museum collecting First Lady Melania Trump’s 2017 inaugural ball gown to look back at the history of the museum’s First Ladies exhibition—how it began and how it continues to change.

  

  4. While the Ruby Slippers step out, two swashbuckling props step in

  Last year, people from around the world helped the museum raise money to conserve the Ruby Slippers. This year, the slippers went off display so that they could undergo an in-depth conservation assessment and treatment before being placed in a new state-of-the-art case—work that will keep the Ruby Slippers sparkling for generations to come. In the meantime, the slippers’ usual spot in the museum is being filled with two other iconic objects from film history, Indiana Jones’s bullwhip and hat.

  

  5. 10 things to know about exhibition installation

  New exhibitions at our museum take years to plan and build, and much of the work is done behind the scenes. If you’ve ever wondered what goes into installing an exhibition, look no further than this post.

  

  6. Contemporary collecting: Creepy costumes and props from The Walking Dead join our collection

  Look out—there’s a zombie in our collections! This fall, the museum collected a group of objects from the hit TV show The Walking Dead. This post gives readers a quick (if somewhat gruesome) tour through what was collected, which ranged from a costume katana to a fake severed head.

  

  7. The day I decided not to collect: A curator's view of Ground Zero

  In this poignant post, curator Jane Rogers reflected on visiting Ground Zero in New York City just a month after the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Although she chose not to collect any materials from the hundreds of workers and rescue personnel she saw, Rogers did document her visit with her camera. Today, her photos and recollections provide us an additional perspective on one of our nation’s greatest tragedies.

  

  8. Looking back on M*A*S*H, the show and the exhibition

  2017 was the 45th anniversary of the debut of M*A*S*H, one of the most influential shows in television history. Volunteer Lucy Harvey’s post looked back on how many artifacts from the show became part of the museum’s collection, as well as how an exhibition about M*A*S*H brought record-breaking crowds to the museum.

  

  9. Three questions for a brewing historian

  This year, Theresa McCulla became the museum’s new brewing historian. As part of the our ongoing American Brewing History Initiative, McCulla will be leading our efforts to collect, document, and preserve the history of brewing, craft brewers, and the beer industry. If you’ve ever wondered what beer can tell us about American history, read this interview!

  

  10. Over There: A Buffalo Soldier in World War I

  As the museum commemorates the 100th anniversary of World War I, we looked back at the life and military career of Corporal Benjamin Blayton, who served in the U.S. Army as part of the 365th Infantry Regiment, 92nd Division “Buffalo Soldiers.” During the war, prejudices of the era prevented most African American units from participating in combat with the American or British forces. However, a few units, including the 92nd, served in combat with the French Army. Blayton served in France from June 1918 until February 1919, and he was later awarded the World War I Victory Medal with Meuse-Argonne and Defensive Sector battle clasps for his service.

  

  Jordan Grant is a Digital Experience assistant in the museum’s Office of Audience Engagement. One of his favorite blog posts this year was Claire Jerry’s reflection on one of the least-populated genres in American letters: the presidential inaugural address.

  Related Staff Member: 

  GrantJo

  Posted Date: 

  Thursday, December 14, 2017 - 07:00

  Categories:

  • From the Collections
  • America Participates
  • Business History
  • Philanthropy
  • First Ladies
  • Film & Television

  

  

  Published Date

  Mon, 11 Dec 2017 19:30:05 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Mr. Peanut and Antonio Gentile: A trademark that defined a life

  Blog Post Category

  Donor Spotlight

  Food History

  Description

  Gentile earned $5, and became forever known as the young boy who created Mr. Peanut. Mr. Peanut himself got a little polish from a graphic artist and went on to a long career as the classy, and until recently, silent spokes-character for their product.

  Published Date

  Tue, 06 May 2014 06:55:00 -0400

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Reading the rainbow: The origins of the pride symbol

  Description

  In 2017, in response to a slew of racist incidents in the Gayborhood, Philadelphia added black and brown stripes to the traditional six-color LGBT rainbow flag. The backlash was severe. Many rejected the alteration of such a supposedly sacred symbol. Apart from failing to recognize the intersectional interests of queer and trans people of color, critics invoked the rainbow flag as something constant and abiding. You can’t just change it . . . can you? Well, it turns out that the rainbow as a symbol has appeared in many places and in many forms over the past century.

  

  Where did the so-called “pride” flag come from anyway? I went on a research journey to find out, exploring works of fiction, newspaper articles, autobiographies, political parties, rock bands, a certain Technicolor movie, and more. Here are the highlights of what I learned about this colorful, often-changing symbol.

  The origin myth

  Queer iconography once included pink and black triangles—re-appropriated by the LGBT community after the Nazis used them to label gay men and lesbians in concentration camps—and the labrys—a double-headed ax associated with the mythological, matriarchal Amazons. A Los Angeles Times article recently dispelled the popular belief that artist Gilbert Baker was solely responsible for the design of the symbol that came next—the rainbow. In collaboration with other volunteer members of San Francisco’s 1978 pride parade decorations committee—among them tie-dyer Lynn Segerblom (also known as Faerie Argyle Rainbow) and seamster James McNamara—activists departed from the most popular queer symbols of the time to create the original, eight-color flag (complete with pink and turquoise stripes).

  Novel metaphors 

  So the rainbow has only been a queer symbol for the past 40 years? Not necessarily. Even a quick perusal of historical LGBT periodicals and magazines reveals a plethora of colorful references as far back as 1915, many of them in fiction writing. The chronology begins with D.H. Lawrence’s The Rainbow, featuring a lesbian affair between a student and a schoolteacher. Nadia Legrand’s 1958 The Rainbow Has Seven Colors features another lesbian May-December love, though unrequited. In both novels, the rainbow symbolizes new beginnings, different stages in life, and the gradations of time itself.

  Everyday stories

  Queer rainbow symbolism continued in the form of short stories—though it is hard to say who influenced whom or, indeed, if some simply claimed the rainbow independently as a symbol of their desires. Two short stories appeared in The Ladder, a lesbian magazine published by the Daughters of Bilitis (the first lesbian organization in the United States)—"End of the Mixed-Up Rainbow" by Diana Sterling in 1961, and "The Christmas Rainbow" by L.A.L. in 1962. Sterling’s work is slice of life, recounting the Sunday morning musings of two lovers. She uses vivid color imagery to evoke quotidian details and draw an extended metaphor. Meanwhile, L.A.L. tells of true love and tragedy, the rainbow taking on a particularly personal and aspirational meaning. The story concludes:

  “… to those of you who have found your Christmas rainbow, we extend a sincere hope that it will remain yours for always. To those of you who still may search, we extend the hope that you may be very close to attainment.”

  

  Friends of Dorothy 

  One might be quick to point out the significance of the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” from the 1939 queer classic The Wizard of Oz. “Friend of Dorothy” has proliferated as slang for being a gay man. Some historians have attributed its origin to the publication of the original turn-of-the-century children’s book series—their diverse characters (the dandy lion and Polychrome, a fairy princess and daughter of the Rainbow) and themes like inclusivity. Others have pointed to the Technicolor film and its star, Judy Garland—a queer icon in her own right. The rainbow as a symbol of hopes and dreams remains as significant as ever 80 years after the movie was in theaters and 118 years after L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was published.

  “Somewhere over the rainbow way up high
  There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.
  Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue
  And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”

  

  Headlines and headliners 

  Meanwhile, an article in The Advocate recounts a nonfiction, newsworthy moment featuring a rainbow. At a 1971 sex law reform rally in Sacramento, California, several speakers noted the appearance of a rainbow ring in the sky. Among them, Assemblyman John L. Burton of San Francisco, who joked, “I’ve heard of gay power, but this is ridiculous.”

  Rainbow was also a San Diego, California, rock group—not to be confused with the British band of the same name, founded in 1975—that performed at a pride parade in 1972 organized by the Christopher Street West group in Los Angeles. The group also played a gay-straight dance organized by the Gay Students Union of the University of California, Irvine. Given the existence of the Rainbow Valley and Rainbow settlement of San Diego, one might wonder whether the band’s name is simply a queer coincidence.

  

  Coming out

  Activist Arnie Kantrowitz’s 1977 autobiography Under the Rainbow: Growing Up Gay is much more explicit in its use of symbolism. The title draws directly from the Garland song, comparing the highs and lows of life and gay politics to Dorothy’s journey to Oz. The author describes his experience at New York’s first gay pride march: “Arms linked, the legions of gays were marching to Oz. We were off to see the Wizard. We were coming out.” Kantrowitz’s work was widely reviewed in a number of periodicals, wherein fellow gay men faulted him for his “trivial, obvious metaphor” and “unfortunate title.”

  Love poems

  With each new interpretation, the rainbow was revealed to have universal and flexible connections to a variety of experiences—not just for queer people, but for all folks othered by society. With Ntozake Shange’s 1976 choreopoem (dynamic poem combining different types of artistic expression) "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf,” the colors of the rainbow are embodied by the characters themselves, exploring themes of sexuality and misogynoir. As the playwright and poet herself put it:

  “The rainbow is a fabulous symbol for me. If you see only one color, it’s not beautiful. If you see them all, it is. A colored girl, by my definition, is a girl of many colors But she can only see her overall beauty if she can see all the colors of herself. To do that, she has to look deep inside her. And when she looks inside herself she will find . . . love and beauty.”

  Solidarity forever 

  In the world of politics, the Rainbow People’s Party (formerly the White Panther Party) was a white allies offshoot of the Black Panther Party founded in 1968. Meanwhile, the Original Rainbow Coalition was an alliance formed between the Chicago Black Panthers (led by Fred Hampton), Puerto Rican Young Lords, and poor white Young Patriots Organization in 1969 to address issues of classism—a group later replicated by Jesse Jackson’s National Rainbow Coalition, founded in 1984. The mid-20th century was a time of vibrant social change and activism, with rainbows providing potent political symbolism for unity and diversity.

  

  The future of the rainbow

  Today, the pride flag is ubiquitous. From parade floats to boutique swag, a confluence of commercial interests and respectability politics have rendered it the go-to logo of “the gay agenda,” along with hashtags and slogans that have helped frame watershed moments like marriage equality and media representation in palatable and punchy terms. But what about the issues that persist, such as homelessness, discrimination, and access to health care? Where are the battle cries and banners under which we can rally for these causes? The rainbow is a flexible symbol, and we’re curious to find out how and where it will appear next. How will you draw on these histories of the rainbow to create your own?

  GVGK Tang was a summer 2018 curatorial intern with Dr. Katherine Ott in the Division of Medicine and Science.

   

  Author(s): 

  GVGK Tang

  Posted Date: 

  Friday, May 31, 2019 - 16:00

  Categories:

  • Stories of Freedom & Justice
  • From the Collections

  

  

  Published Date

  Fri, 31 May 2019 19:14:13 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Top 5 best beards of Byzantium

  Description

  I have never seen my father's chin. The man has worn a beard since well before I was born, and my brother quickly followed in his tradition. The patrilineal beard is nothing new, however. It is exemplified in much of the Byzantine selection of the National Numismatic Collection. Beards of Byzantium are represented so fantastically in the empire's coinage that they become inseparable from the iconography of the coins—in other words, the beards make the emperor.

  Because beards have been such an integral part of my family life, I was impressed with those presented on the coins of Byzantium, the primary focus of my time here with the collection. With so many fantastic follicles at my disposal, I felt it was my duty to follow in the footsteps of the great, and now bearded, David Letterman and create a top list of imperial facial hair.

  5. Phocas (Phokas) I, 602–610: The pointiest of the Byzantine beards

  

  The Byzantine beard really begins with the coinage of Phocas. Sure, Roman emperors before him had some pretty substantial beards (I am particularly fond of Marcus Aurelius's facial hair), but it was under Phocas that beards began to be associated with manhood and even family lineage in Byzantium. His was the first imperial stubble on Byzantine coinage, setting a definite precedent for the jawline of emperors who followed after him.

  4. Leo III the Isaurian, 717–741: The best groomed of the Byzantine beards

  

  The rule of Leo III shares some significant similarities with the reign of another among the fabulous bearded rulers of Byzantium (see Beard #1). Another similarity is Leo III's serious facial hair. Definitely one of the more controlled chin-coifs, Leo III's beard (and reign) was cool, calm, and collected. With his mustache neatly sculpted, the emperor appears ready for anything—which was good, considering his actions against the Second Arab Siege of Constantinople was necessary immediately after taking over the empire.

  3: Christ as depicted in the coinage of Michael III, 842–867: Most illustrious of the Byzantine beards.

  

  The iconography of Christ in Byzantine art is sublime, and the glory of this robust beard is no exception. Justinian II (of the Heraclian Dynasty) was the first emperor to depict Christ on coinage. While he was not the last to do so, the trend did not take off as he expected. Still, the iconography used to depict Christ is not lacking in his facial hair. This solidus is a gold coin about 23k fine, though gradually debased, that was minted during the reign of Michael III (and Theodora). It portrays Christ with a very notable Byzantine Beard. In fact, his goatee is a rather significant part of the composition and is mimicked in the depiction of Michael III on the back of the coin.

  2. Constans II, 641–668: The most ZZ Top-like of the Byzantine beards

  

  The massive beard of Constans II basically speaks for itself (his contemporary nickname was even Constantine the Bearded) and was in no small way a physical connection to his grandfather Heraclius (see Beard #1!). While the flowing facial locks of Constans II were long and luscious, his reign was not the most comfortable. His ascension to the throne was an event marred by regicide, court intrigue, and deep religious conflict, and the remainder of his reign had little more success.

  Honorable Mention: Leontius, 695–698: Just a really good beard

  

  A good beard should never go to waste, and this solidus of Leontius depicts his really decent beard. He rose to power by overthrowing Justinian II (of the Heraclian Dynasty) after several great military successes. However, like his full beard, Leontius' reign was short and jagged.

  1. Heraclius (Herakleios), 610–641: The most epic of the Byzantine beards

  

  Heraclius's reign was just as big and dramatic as his fabulous facial hair. One of my favorite facets to coins of Heraclius is the development of his beard. As he excels in expansion and rule of Byzantium, his coinage portrays a more robustly bearded iconography—again, the beard really makes the emperor. He reorganized the administration of the empire just as he reorganized the flow of his powerful mustache. He even successfully used his coiffed and powerful beard to regain the True Cross of Christ, previously lost to the Sassanians during the reign of Phocas (see Beard #3). As Heraclius's beard grew more powerful and full on the coinage, his son Constantine III's stubble also developed into some serious five o'clock shadow. Who knew my father and my brother were part of such an illustrious history of wearing large, familial beards?

  For even more beards of Byzantium, check back soon to see our online exhibition of Byzantine coins! 

  Emily Pearce Seigerman is a Museum Specialist with the National Numismatic Collection. She has also blogged about powerful empresses on coins.

  Related Staff Member: 

  pearcee

  Posted Date: 

  Tuesday, January 24, 2017 - 08:00

  Categories:

  • Numismatics

  

  

  Published Date

  Mon, 23 Jan 2017 22:06:47 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Jack Johnson: The first African American world heavyweight boxing champion

  Description

  In 1908, Texan Jack Johnson (1878–1946) defeated Canadian Tommy Burns to become the first African American world heavyweight boxing champion. Admired for quick footwork and defensive acumen, the man known as the "Galveston Giant" retained the heavyweight title from 1908 to 1915. Johnson's success in the ring made him an international celebrity in his day. Sadly, today there are many people who haven't heard of him. Black History Month is a great opportunity to remember this iconic figure and his remarkable life.

  

  Johnson's success in the ring made him an international celebrity and he was celebrated with ceremonies and parades in some black communities. Outspoken, independent, and conspicuous with his wealth, Johnson intentionally provoked racist whites as well as some African American intellectuals. During his reign, promoters actively sought a "Great White Hope" to defeat the flamboyant champion, and his victories were often marred by racial discord.

  
  

  Most upsetting to the press and public opinion was the boxer's open challenge to society's disapproval of interracial dating and marriage, which was illegal in many states. Three of his marriages were to white women. Likely in retaliation for his brazenness, he was arrested twice for violation of the Mann Act: "transporting, in interstate or foreign commerce," a woman for "immoral purpose." He was found guilty in 1913 by an all-white jury, even though the woman in question was his wife at the time of conviction. After the verdict, Johnson fled to Europe, eventually returning to the United States to serve a one-year prison sentence in 1920.

  

  In his book Jack Johnson the Man, he described his life like this: "My life, almost from its very start, has been filled with tragedy and romance, failure and success, poverty and wealth, misery and happiness. All these conflicting conditions that have crowded in upon me and plunged me into struggles with warring forces have made me somewhat a unique character in the world of today and the story of my life I have led, may therefore not only contain some interest if told for its own sake, but may also shed some light on the life of our times."

  Johnson died in a car accident in 1946. The headline of his June 15, 1946, obituary in the black-owned New York Amsterdam News was "They Hated Jack Johnson For He Feared No Human."

  

  The book contains a foreword by J. B. Lewis, which addressed, in the language of the day, the way in which racism influenced attitudes toward the athlete: "When [Johnson] successfully fought his way to the world championship, instead of his achievement mitigating those [racist] prejudices and jealousies, they were intensified and more than that, there were many who called themselves honorable, charitable and sportsmanlike, who stubbornly refused to credit Jack with the same degree of consideration and respect that would have been given a white man, even though that white man did far worse things in the world of morals than were ever done by Jack."

  Eric W. Jentsch is the deputy chair of the Division of Culture and the Arts.

  Related Staff Member: 

  jentsche

  Posted Date: 

  Monday, February 27, 2017 - 08:00

  Categories:

  • From the Collections
  • Stories of Freedom & Justice

  

  

  Published Date

  Fri, 24 Feb 2017 15:13:04 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Smithsonian curator seeks one storied FFA jacket

  Blog Post Category

  American agriculture

  Back to Our Roots

  Description

  Curator Peter Liebhold is collecting your memories of agricultural education and seeks one FFA jacket for inclusion in the upcoming American Enterprise exhibition.

  Published Date

  Tue, 27 May 2014 06:30:00 -0400

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Race to the Museum: Oldsmobile curved-dash runabout, 1903

  Synopsis

  This post is the third in a series of eight profiling automobiles in the museum’s collection. At the conclusion of the series on Tuesday, December 21, the public will be invited to vote for one favor [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Stubby: Dog, Hoya mascot, and war hero

  Synopsis

  Stubby the dog, known to many as “Sgt. Stubby”, is one of my favorite artifacts in the Armed Forces History collections. He was the mascot of the 102 Infantry 26th Yankee Division in World War I. He [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  Picturing women's participation during the Great War

  Description

  I came back from my eighth grade trip to Washington, D.C., with a Rosie the Riveter poster from the museum store here (not realizing I'd one day qualify for the staff discount). We all know Rosie—firm expression, blue work shirt, muscular forearm—but when asked to name an icon who represents women's impact in World War I, most of us draw a blank. Although their roles aren't as well-known today, women did participate in the war effort. Their participation not only helped to reorder the place of women in society, it also paved the way for the women who served in World War II.

  Our Women in World War I object group is a great place to start to find evidence of women pitching in for the war effort. Created as part of the James Lollar Hagan Internship program, the object group highlights the many varied roles of women in the war as civilians and as members of the armed forces. Here are a few of my favorite examples of how women pitched in during the war.

  As members of the U.S. military

  

  Did you know that World War I was the first time in American history in which women were officially members of the American military in a capacity other than as nurses? This is why their uniforms are so fascinating and important. Although women had already been serving in the Army Nurse Corps and Navy Nurse Corps since the groups were founded in 1901 and 1908, respectively, the onset of World War I gave women the opportunity to serve in many other branches of the military. The Army Signal Corps recruited women to serve as bilingual telephone operators, or "Hello Girls," to help run vital military communications in Europe. The Navy recruited women to serve as Yeomen (F) ("F" for female), also called "Yeomanettes" or "Yeowomen," to perform mostly clerical duties across the country in naval stations, shipyards, hospitals, and munitions factories. Women also served in the Marines as Marine Reservists (F), or "Marinettes," performing clerical duties such as accounting, recruiting, and stenography, primarily in Washington, D.C.

  

  As members of civilian organizations

  

  American women helped support the war effort in a number of civilian roles, even years before the U.S. declared war on Germany. Civilian organizations, such as the American Fund for French Wounded, were established by American women and staffed by American women volunteers to help wounded soldiers and war refugees in Europe. They also participated in the Preparedness Movement by organizing military training camps for young women, such as the First National Service School and the Emergency Services Training Corps. During the war, civilian women served at home and overseas with numerous civilian organizations such as the National League for Woman's Service, the Salvation Army, the Jewish Welfare Board, the American Red Cross, and the Woman's Land Army of America.

  

  As our curators have written, all of these organizations had uniforms that mimicked official military uniforms of the time. By donning these uniforms, women aligned themselves with the principles of military order and discipline and gave visual representation of their patriotism; perhaps most importantly, they symbolically claimed the full citizenship that they were denied at this time prior to the passage of woman suffrage.

  

  As memory keepers

  

  Memorializing the young men who were lost in the war was often the job of the wives and mothers. A powerful example of this is Sallie Maxwell Bennett, whose son Louis, a flying ace, was killed in action in France. Mrs. Bennett made it her mission to track down his unmarked grave and memorialize him—with the help of the very enemy who had been responsible for his death. Despite his distinguished combat service with the British Royal Flying Corps (later named the Royal Air Force), Mrs. Bennett's son never received any service awards from either the British or American governments. But his mother's dedication ensured that his memory would not fade. Her donation to the museum of objects and photographs belonging to Louis join thousands of other artifacts in our collection that serve to memorialize the men and women who participated in World War I.

  

  Have the women in your family history pitched in during wartime, whether in official roles or less formal types of support? Share your story of participation and follow the #AmericaParticipates conversation on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and our America Participates website.

  Erin Blasco is an education specialist in the New Media Department. Patri O'Gan, Margaret Vining, and Barton C. Hacker contributed to this blog post. The authors recommend the following blog posts for further reading: At home and 'Over There': Women in World War I object group; From satin to khaki: Women join the Military Preparedness Movement of 1916, and A mother's solace: A letter from a World War I enemy.

  Related Staff Member: 

  BlascoE

  Posted Date: 

  Wednesday, January 20, 2016 - 08:30

  Categories:

  • From the Collections
  • Women's History

  

  

  Published Date

  Tue, 19 Jan 2016 16:16:38 +0000

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

• 

  What the American flag means to you

  Synopsis

  A child. A truck. A quilt. A gravestone. These are all answers to the questions posed by the Share Your Story project: “What does the American flag stand for? Is it a sacred symbol? Has it meant some [...]

  Creator

  National Museum of American History

  Data Source

  National Museum of American History

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