(1780,13,'2012-04-25 22:37:40','2012-04-25 22:37:40','The primal scene of archival research takes place in a dreary reading room. A researcher sits at her table, inert. An archivist enters, pushing a cart that bears a dozen dusty gray boxes. (Can we get a close-up of a box, please, to show the label with the long call number? [note type=\'figure\' number=\'1\']\r\n[youtube width=333 height=250]5ykY6moIaDE[/youtube]\r\nA staged archival encounter.[/note]) The archivist unhinges a box, removes a numbered file folder and, placing it at the researcher’s elbow, steps back. The researcher stirs, then sits upright with a mechanical jolt. She turns sharply in the direction of the folder, flips it open and cocks her head towards the flimsy leaves inside; now she is reading. (Zoom in on the eyes as they click into focus.) Now she is reading, and now she truly comes alive; she bends towards the papers, taps her forehead in thought. A sheaf of blank paper and a pencil appear on her table, and she begins taking notes. Her fingers fly—and soon, so do the pages she is writing upon. Caught up in eddies of excitement, they swoop to the ceiling and around the room and down to the floor, where they fall together into perfect piles. Bindings sprout from the outer strata; the pages sew themselves into bright, tight, hard-cover books. These the archivist gathers up and places on the shelves that line the room, next to other books and gray boxes.\r\n\r\nI may have it backwards: in other versions of the fantasy, it is the archive that is first animated by the presence of the researcher, a Dr. Coppelius who waves a pencil and sets the dusty boxes to dancing. But either way, the archival imaginary posits a symbiotic relationship between researcher and source, a photogenic pas de deux that leads to a finished scholarly product. This work, in turn, enters the archive for the next generation of researchers; it might even be taken apart again so that its secret ingredients (notes, drafts, letters) can themselves be served up in a series of boxes. Such a strangely private form of publication it creates, the coupling of researcher and source.\r\n\r\nWhat Freudian trauma results from witnessing this sight? Only the harm that myth inflicts. This primal scene is a fiction, a dream of perfect union between researcher and source that ignores, first of all, the full cast of characters. What about the archivist, who is rendered invisible? What about all those within and without the archive, upon whose labor—acquiring, preserving, organizing, reading, cataloging, describing, interpreting, analyzing, debating, teaching, writing, editing, digitizing, referencing and publishing—the current project depends? More a barn dance than a pas de deux: an archival encounter is an enactment of social authorship long before the researcher enters the room. [note number=\'1\']See Jerome McGann, A Critique of Modern Textual Criticism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983) on the idea of social authorship, which could be described as “the dialectic between the historically located individual author and the historically developed institutions of literary production” that help create a work, eg, printers, publishers, editors and readers (81).[/note]\r\n\r\nBut even a barn dance is much too mannered a metaphor. The sketch above misleads us more generally about the experience on the ground. Doing time in an archive is often tedious, uncomfortable and bewildering. For librarians, there is the struggle to promote and simultaneously protect what you have; the difficulty of fitting unruly materials into arrangements and workflows; and worries about space and time—where to put it all, how to address your backlog. For researchers, there is the struggle to locate the archives you need and what matters to you inside them; the uncertainty created by unruly data; and worries about time and space— how to access what you need during your research trip, how to record and organize the information you gather. At both ends, the archival encounter is counter-cinematic and erratic, days of monotonous sifting and dead-ends punctuated by one or two, or maybe zero, hidden moments of vivid, peculiar joy.\r\n\r\nSo archival research does not fulfill its ideal outline. So what? Who cares? Why dredge up the fantasy? Because the fantasy continues to structure our archival encounters—what we expect and undertake in the reading room, what we allow it to mean. Twenty years ago, Alice Kaplan observed that “conventional academic discourse requires that when you write up the results of your archival work, you tell a story about what you found, but not about how you found it. The less the seams of your findings show, the better your discoveries lend themselves to use by others… tell[ing] these stories breaks their spell and violates the spirit of the archives.” [note number=\'2\']Alice Yaeger Kaplan, “Working in the Archives,” Yale French Studies 77 (1990): 103-116; 103, 107.[/note] With a few word changes, the same could be said about what counts as professional archivist discourse: the impersonal, neutral genre of the finding aid, for example, should say what is in a collection, but should not discuss what is confusing or missing in it, or the problems it posed in processing. [note number=\'3\']See, for example, James M. O’Toole and Richard J. Cox, Understanding Archives and Manuscripts (Chicago: Society of American Archivists, 2006).[/note] Despite the growing recognition that this sequestration is never completely possible—that the material conditions and social relations of the archive shape the work we do in it—that work continues to be represented in professional and scholarly publications as if it is. Despite the recent call to move to the fore “the backstage of the archives—how they are constructed, policed, experienced, and manipulated” in order to support historiography “not merely [as] a project of fact-retrieval” but as “a set of complex processes of selection, interpretation, and even creative invention,” the “backstage” stays in the background. [note number=\'4\']Antoinette Burton, “Introduction: Archive Fever, Archive Stories,” Archive Stories: Facts, Fictions, and the Writing of History, ed. Burton (Durham: Duke University Press, 2005), 7-8.[/note] Antoinette Burton may be correct that “many if not most historians operate under the assumption that history is a highly interpretive act,” but this belief is not yet reflected in the archival encounter: the ways that researchers (not just historians) and librarians report their experiences with primary sources; the ways that librarians and researchers work together; the ways librarians and researchers regard the involvement of “non specialists.” [note number=\'5\']Burton, 8. Burton notes that “whether historians concede or fully countenance the impact of such contingencies on their work is another question. They rarely speak of them, and even more rarely do they do so in print” (8). Her books recuperates some of those archive stories but this effort, I’ll suggest below, is hampered by other kinds of obligations.[/note] While the advent of digitization and electronic resource sharing has revolutionized the research landscape, making primary sources public in unprecedented ways, there remains in the archive a habitus of secret knowledge—the “spell” that Kaplan is loathe to break. This is not necessarily intentional. It is rather the effect of layering recent shifts in technology, theory and professional definition onto older foundations: petrified conditions, relations, expectations and systems that continue to operate in part through the enduring power of fantasies about research. What we have in the archive is a stratified groundwork that still governs our archival encounters.\r\n\r\nBut, you will object, the archive has already changed. Now we have the “archival turn”—the scholarly interest in the archive not just as a source of evidence but as an epistemological mode. Surely, this attention to the constructedness of the archive has led to a revealing reconsideration of what actually goes on inside an archive; surely, as a result, those archaic fantasies have diminished. Have they? In what follows, I begin by unearthing one stratum of the archival turn, the decade of the 1990s, as represented by three texts: Kaplan’s essay mentioned above, “Working in the Archives” (1990) [note type=\'figure\' number=\'2\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-2-kaplan.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-369\" title=\"fig 2 kaplan\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-2-kaplan-300x224.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Photocopy of Alice Yaeger Kaplan’s “Working in the Archives.”[/note]; Derrida’s Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression (1994/95) [note type=\'figure\' number=\'3\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-3-Derrida.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-372\" title=\"fig 3 Derrida\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-3-Derrida-300x224.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Print out of Jacque Derrida’s “Archive Fever” from Diacritics.[/note]; and Carolyn Steedman’s Dust: The Archive and Cultural History (2001). [note type=\'figure\' number=\'4\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-4-steedman.jpg\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-373\" title=\"fig 4 steedman\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-4-steedman-300x224.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Library copy of Carolyn Steedman’s Dust.[/note] [note number=\'6\']Jacques Derrida, “Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression,” Diacritics 25.2 (Summer 1995): 9-63. Web. 1 Dec. 2010. Carolyn Steedman, Dust: The Archive and Cultural History (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2001).[/note] A cross-examination of these three texts reveals a pattern of interests, a set of efforts to defy customary practices—but only, it turns out, “in theory.” While certain practices are challenged in these texts, they leave mostly intact the older strata of archival research fantasies and conventions. Kaplan, Derrida and Steedman do not dislodge the forces that organize the actual archival encounter.\r\n\r\nHow does this happen? Why is practice so stubborn? We need another take on archival practice: not practice in theory, but practice in action; not the 1990s, but now; not in terms of textual patterns, but in terms that suit the subject: the terms of the archival encounter itself, and the eccentric, anachronistic and even monotonous experience it generates. My second look at practice will take the form of a series of vignettes about a real-life archive, the George Peabody Library in Baltimore. While this narrative structure may seem to recreate the division of labor between theory and practice, my hope is that—by giving practice the last word—we’ll be in a better position to synthesize the two.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\n<strong>I. “The library doubles as a detective’s office.” [note number=\'7\']Kaplan, 114.[/note]</strong>\r\n\r\nThe archival turn could be dated to the founding of “scientific” history in the mid-nineteenth century, or to the development a century later of the quantitative methods of the Annales School, or to other evidence-based movements in the history of history, but what is generally meant by this phrase corresponds with the formation of cultural studies and the use of the archive as a conceptual category. That is, the archival turn has to do with the notion of the “figuration” of the archive, a parallel decline in its empirical authority and a related expansion of its relevance within domains that are not exclusively historiographic, like art, literary criticism, textual studies, media studies and information studies. [note number=\'8\']See the use of the term in, for example, Carolyn Hamilton et al, eds., Refiguring the Archive (Boston: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2002), Cheryl Simon, ed., Following the Archival Turn: Photography, the Museum, and the Archive, special issue of Visual Resources: A Journal of Documentation 18.2 (June 2002), and Ann Laura Stoler, Along the Archival Grain: Epistemic Anxieties and Colonial Common Sense (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009). This turn is partially construed as a “move from archive-as-source to archive-as-subject,” but also by the earlier metaphorical interest in “the archive” that goes back to the 1980s (Stoler, 44-45) and by Foucauldian descriptions of archives as “‘monuments to particular configurations of power” (Hamilton, qtd. in Burton, 6).[/note] But it is not irrelevant that a devotion to archival methods precedes by many decades contemporary theories of the archive; if the archival turn lacks a precise origin, this (we will see) is completely in keeping with its own preoccupations.\r\n\r\nKaplan therefore represents in some ways an arbitrary beginning for this cross-examination—clearly the archive as a conceptual category predates 1990—but her article does initiate something new: the recognition that there is something called an “archive story” that must remain hidden in order for the official “results” to function authoritatively. In admitting this bit of professional legerdemain, and in telling her own archive story in a prestigious scholarly journal, Kaplan not only commits the violation she prohibits but also contradicts it. Through its publication, Kaplan’s own archive story is elevated to the status of “results”—a kind of research that shadows conventional academic discourse. Indeed, Kaplan notes, such “fables” of research “can be analyzed like a text,” a “mixed up genre” that combines the “redemptive detective fiction” with the epic and the dime novel. [note number=\'9\']Kaplan, 106, 107.[/note]\r\n\r\nKaplan’s archive story thus marks a distinctive moment in the archival turn—one which gained its most prominent authorization in 1994, with a paper that Jacques Derrida delivered (in English) to a conference sponsored by the Freud Museum, the Courtauld Institute and the Société International d’Histoire de la Psychiatrie et de la Psychoanalyse. Called initially “The Concept of the Archive: A Freudian Impression,” the lecture was revised and published in 1995 as Mal d’archive: une impression freudienne in French; the published English version echoed the French publication with its 1995 title Archive Fever. As Carolyn Steedman points out in Dust: The Archive and Cultural History, however, this work that has been assigned a seminal status in archival studies “for the main part… is not about archives at all, but is rather a sustained contemplation of a work of history, of Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi’s Freud’s Moses: Judaism Terminable and Interminable (1991),” itself a sustained contemplation of Moses and Monotheism—which (according to Steedman) Yerushalmi examines through Freud’s description of the work as a “‘historical novel,’ or a kind of historical story,” undertaken “in order to understand the period of baroque anti-semitism through which he was living.” [note number=\'10\']Steedman, 3.[/note]\r\n\r\nDizzy yet? Let’s undertake a more careful reading of this splatter pattern of intra-references—or, to stick with the archaeological metaphor, let’s call them groups of potsherds buried in the 1990s layer of the “archival turn.” Digging down to reassemble them reveals a set of interests with special implications for archival practice.\r\n\r\nThe most prominent group of sherds to note are the fragments of disciplinarity: the inter-, multi- or perhaps simply anti-disciplinarity of the texts, authors and audiences caught up in these three archival addresses. Kaplan, an American scholar of French literature, calls the post-theory exchange between literature and history a “cross-pollination of desire between historians and literary critics” undertaken “with the curiosity and energetic passion of collectors.” [note number=\'11\']Kaplan, 107-108.[/note] Steedman, a British historian, performs this cross-pollinating process without comment: her epigraph to Dust is from Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, one chapter treats George Eliot’s Middlemarch in depth… in fact, almost every chapter depends on a literary text. [note number=\'12\']Another chapter invokes Elizabeth Gaskell’s 1848 novel Mary Barton, a third is anchored by W. H. Auden’s poem “Homage to Clio,” and a fourth finds its most eloquent examples in Charles Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend.[/note] Derrida, a French philosopher, produced a work that has been exceptionally mobile across disciplines, forms, languages and professional domains. He gave his initial talk to an audience drawing on three different kinds of institutions; Mal d’Archive was published in book form in both French and English, but also made an intermediate appearance as an essay in the journal diacritics. All of these texts, it seems, respond to the provocations of the archive—to the materials and circumstances of discovery—rather than to the disciplinary distinctions that arguably divide the archive from itself.\r\n\r\nArchive Fever has become a founding document even though, as Steedman notes in the very beginning of her book, many in Derrida’s audience “knew the ‘archival turn’ to be [already] well underway” at the time of his talk. [note number=\'13\']Steedman, 2.[/note] As it happens—and this is the second group of sherds I see—these three essays have in common an investment in or a problem with origins, especially with the failure of origins. Derrida, for example, defines archive fever as a kind of Freudian death drive—a drive to fix and preserve which at the same time “works to destroy the archive: on the condition of effacing but also with a view to effacing its own ‘proper’ traces… [it] is above all anarchivic, one could say, or archiviolithic… the archive always works, and a priori, against itself.” [note number=\'14\']Derrida, 14. [/note] If the archival impulse is driven to destroy its own work, then the question of origins ultimately point to the larger question of disorder. [note number=\'15\']The disorder of origins makes frequent appearances in the essay but one example will make the point—in the “Preamble” where he recounts how he titled the talk that he had not yet written and was to give at the Freud Museum. The “Preamble” starts with his reflections on the word “impression,” which has several simultaneous registers of meaning for him. One of these is the “scriptural or typographic” register: that of the graphic impression that marks a substrate. In English, “impression” is phonetically related to “repression” and “suppression,” key words in the Freudian vocabulary, translated respectively from the German Verdrängung and Unterdrückung. English, that is, retains the rhyming relationship of the two German terms, and “impression” in this company comes to have a vaguely Freudian meaning as well. But in French, Verdrängung is “refoulement,” which means something more like expulsion, a driving away. The Freudian sense of the French word “répression” has been reserved for Unterdrückung. So English “repression” defines a phenomenon that must be distinguished from the French “répression.” These translational shifts “directly concern the structures of archivization,” Derrida says, “because they touch on the topic differences and thus on the location of the substrates of traces\" (Derrida, 23). In other words, how do you classify concepts whose meanings shift across languages? Where do you store them in a disciplinary grammar—or in an archive? How do these asymmetrical linguistic structures shape the establishment and extension of a new science? For Derrida, the difference between “repression” and “répression” is “enough to disrupt the tranquil landscape of all historical knowledge, of all historiography, and even of all self-consistent ‘scholarship’” (Derrida, 23).[/note]\r\n\r\nOrigin failure appears both as deliberate performance and as unintentional oversight in these essays. Derrida stages his own inability to get past “go”; with an introductory section, and subsequent sections sub-titled “Exergue,” “Preamble,” “Foreword,” his essay functions, Steedman notes, like a “primer offering instruction in the principle of deferral.” [note number=\'16\']A short notice called “Priere d’inserer,” published only in the French book version, carried the bulk of an argument for which there was no room in the lecture. Steedman, 7.[/note] For all her insight into Derrida’s titling adventures, however, Steedman’s title is marked by its own origin aporia. While her first chapter is devoted to Archive Fever—a “let’s begin at the beginning” homage to the seminal text—her book’s title, Dust, seems more indebted to the last sentence of Kaplan’s essay, published five years before Derrida’s: “Usually there is no mother lode, no original manuscript to be retrieved—the gold is all in the dust.” [note number=\'17\']Kaplan, 116.[/note] Kaplan, however, is never mentioned. [note number=\'18\']Kaplan also begins her essay with a brief consideration of the “arche,” the Greek and Latin term for the public records office, which is a major starting point for Derrida. Is he borrowing from her, or is she borrowing from him, given that this sort of etymological investigation was an established signature of Deconstruction?[/note]\r\n\r\nKaplan, for her part, unravels her own archive story. She gives us a kind of “whodunit”—her search for the ephemeral sources of Louis-Ferdinand Céline’s anti-semitic pamphlet Bagatelles pour un massacre (1937). She uses this account to exemplify her effort to “move through the archival process and recover some of the stories that get deleted in the final scholarly form.” [note number=\'19\']Kaplan, 104. For this reason, perhaps, Kaplan never reveals what she ultimately discovers in her successful search for Celine’s sources. In fact, it’s not entirely clear whether her pre-emptive and truncated treatment of her archive story is deliberate or not. Is this treatment meant to indirectly support her official claim about “results”? Or does the presence of the archive story suggest that telling it is an impulse she can’t quite control? Thanks, Lauren Coats, for helping tease this problem out.[/note] These beginnings are preemptively struck out, however, by what seems to be her main claim: “the passion of the archives must finally be used to eradicate all personal stories in the interests of the dry archival report, fit for a public.” [note number=\'20\']Kaplan, 103.[/note] Only in the “para-text”—a preface, for example—can the archive story appear without “interrupt[ing] or complicat[ing] the narrative so much that no results could ever be understood or perceived.” [note number=\'21\']Kaplan, 104.[/note] Despite this unequivocal assertion, the personal “whodunit” prevails in her essay, especially in the final section set in the Centre du documentation juive contemporain (CDJC). [note type=\'figure\' number=\'5\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-5-cdjc-2/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-423\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-423\" title=\"fig 5 cdjc\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-5-cdjc1-333x250.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Website for the Centre de documentation juive contemporain.[/note] It is this library, where Kaplan solves the mystery of Céline’s sources, that “doubles as a detective’s office.”\r\n\r\nWhile Kaplan’s research mystery resolves neatly, the truth about archives is that they are full of gaps, mistakes and excesses: in the words of one of the CDJC librarians, “‘ici on trouve tout’—there’s some of everything here”—but not, one could add, all of anything. [note number=\'22\']Kaplan, 115.[/note] Kaplan’s essay ends by nullifying both her detective story success and her “dry archival report,” by recognizing the disorder on which both of these narratives are unsteadily perched: “The archive is constituted by these errors, these pieces out of place, which are then reintegrated into a story of some kind.” [note number=\'23\']Kaplan, 115.[/note] “A story of some kind”? So much for “results.”\r\n\r\nKaplan sets us up to perceive one final potsherd pattern common to these three essays. If origin-less disorder is the order of the archive, it is a disorder that is generated out of human loss—a disorder that joins the body and the material world. The archive is always predicated on historical violence of some sort, whatever is censored, erased, excluded, trumped up, used up, misplaced, conquered, killed. Moreover, the archival categories that mark both the visible victories and hidden defeats do not stay within their walls; the archive is both a repository of existing schemas and a means of perpetuating them in the world beyond. While we might usually think of this disciplinary activity as a pact between the archive and its political authors, Steedman makes it clear that the dilemmas of order shape the archival body in many ways. For example, she takes literally the provocation of Derrida’s title Archive Fever to investigate the illness that researchers contract on the penultimate day of their trip to the archive: prompted by the anxiety of the task that remains unfinished, they end their research with night-sweats and head-aches. But what seems like a strangely specific malady is transformed by Steedman into a far-reaching social symptom: by relating the researcher’s “archive fever” to the terrible diseases suffered by tanners, skinners and other workers in the trades associated with paper and leather, Steedman expands our sense of who is in the archive—the bodies whose specialized labors populate our libraries with books, the many kinds of expertise the archive consumes.\r\n\r\nFor Derrida, the relation between the material archive and its human architects focuses on one kind of “graphic mark,” a particular “private inscription”: circumcision as the archival signature that is also the signature of patrimoine, with Freud’s relationship to his father as his main example. [note number=\'24\']Derrida, 19.[/note] It is perhaps not a coincidence that the body in question in both Kaplan’s and Derrida’s archive is Jewish, for that is a body that has come to symbolize the destructive power of classificatory regimes. Despite her contention that the private passions motivating research must be kept secret, Kaplan is fascinated by the “missing person stories” at the CDJC: by the “quantity of people who are there for personal reasons,” the survivors of occupation or deportation or camps, or their descendants, quietly looking up their lost ones or noisily dropping off their memoirs. [note number=\'25\']Kaplan, 113.[/note] This disorganized crowd of dead and living bodies tries to meet up with an equally disorganized crowd of materials—individual letters, trial transcripts, pamphlets, newspapers, first-person accounts, books, photographs, lists. The monumental task of match-making, the librarians’ work, is never complete. More papers are always generated or declassified or discovered, different human questions and needs emerge. The tidy choreography of the research fantasy, where the detective always finds her man, is not so much in evidence; what we have instead is corpora in excess of existing categories.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nKaplan, Derrida and Steedman open up the archival body. They show us how paper meets the press of flesh; they make us feel just how intimate it is. [note number=\'26\']This interest in the corporeal dimensions and effects of order, its human and non-human components, has in common with their other gestures—an experimental attitude towards conventional disciplinarity and attention to the priority of disorder—the circumstances of the academic humanities in the 1990s. Since the archival turn came out of the ascent of cultural studies and allied intrigues in the 1970s and ‘80s, the circles in the Venn diagram of these ventures will necessarily overlap. We could also say that the archive took off when it did precisely because it made a clever new container for these preoccupations, thick in the humanities atmosphere at the time, where they were distilled and united. [/note] But for all their revelations about the limits of discipline and the multiplicities of disorder in the archive, these texts do not disclose the specific methods of engagement that led to their existence. While Kaplan offers up her own archival victory and outlines several other such stories, she still insists on their marginalization. [note number=\'27\']“Were the story of how you got the story really to be told inside the book, it would interrupt or complicate the narrative so much that no results could be understood or even perceived. Every story of success in the archives is emotionally charged, for only the most extreme emotions can drive people to the drudgery, to the discomfort, of sitting and sifting through dog-eared documents, manuscripts, microfilms. To reveal those emotions would not only gum up the narrative, it would threaten its credibility, by showing on what thin strands of coincidence, accident, or on what unfair forms of friendship, ownership, geographical proximity, the discoveries were based” (Kaplan, 104).[/note] If these texts are not concerned with actual practices in the archive or changes in its methodologies, what do they tell us?\r\n\r\nFirst, they suggest one reason for the perpetuation of myths about the archive. While Kaplan, Derrida and Steedman are eager to show how archival materials do not conform to disciplinary distinctions—an enthusiasm related to other disruptive tendencies in late twentieth-century humanist scholarship –they seem less cognizant of a related phenomenon: the archive does not obey strict professional divisions, either. In Kaplan’s library-as-detective’s-office metaphor, the scholar is the detective, but does the “Eureka” moment belong only to the scholar who pieces together a narrative? What about the people who prepared those pieces? The archivist is still missing in action. Likewise, these essays do not dwell on missing boxes, illegible papers, neglected citations. There are no descriptions of archival slogging, no admissions that some materials failed to be relevant. And of course, there are no prescriptions for a different order. It is not the main aim of Kaplan, Derrida and Steedman to effect an evolution of practice; archival turnistas are not interested in disorder in order to re-order. But it is worth remembering that it is not in their professional interest as scholars to make their practices more transparent.\r\n\r\nSecondly, along the same lines, these texts inform us of the duplicity of speculative practices that reveal but cannot live out the instability of their archival mandates. Kaplan, Derrida and Steedman are put into the position of saying, “Yes, the archive is biased, idiosyncratic and treacherous—but the observations I draw from it are flawless.” [note number=\'28\']Derrida, unlike Kaplan and Steedman, makes no claims to work inside an actual archive, unless we consider Yerushalmi’s book as a kind of archive. But the fact that the essay was written self-consciously for presentation at the Freud Museum suggests that it was made out of an archive indirectly—in its construction, if not in its contents. [/note]\r\n\r\nFinally, these texts suggest why archival studies that attempt to be explicit about the messy nature of the archive have become instead “archive studies.” In more recent works like Refiguring the Archive (2002), Archive Stories: Facts, Fictions and the Writing of History (2005) and Along the Archival Grain: Epistemic Anxieties and Colonial Common Sense (2009), the archive appears as a subject in its own right. Although the archival scenarios that are put into play in each of these books incorporate different disciplines—art, history, anthropology, literature, post-colonial studies—they have essentially created a new discipline. “Archive studies” is something we might, in the taxonomy of disciplines, see as the love-child of cultural studies, history and archival methodology. Moreover, this new discipline has in common with other humanities disciplines a complete blindness about its professional investments; it does not register much awareness of the professional investments of librarians, archivists, curators and “non-specialists,” or invite insights from those perspectives. Perhaps this is inevitably what happens when academics must give legitimacy to something new, which in turn reflects the pressures of scholarly communication: a topic must be delineated in conventional terms in order to merit publication. [note number=\'29\']Perhaps this is also the moment to ask why we—I—have been using the term “archive” all along, with its statist resonances, rather than the term “collection,” which has institutional but also personal resonances. Does “archive” bring us closer to recognizably “serious scholarship”?[/note] But it is also true that in these more recent books, which openly investigate the archive’s power-politics, the disorderly drift of the archive and its hybrid corporeality have mostly been bent towards a particular narrative about the archive as an agent of history rather than as a set of ongoing practices. It is as if the historical archive has been assembled in ways that reflect and reiterate power relations, but the contemporary archive has not; it is as if the researcher’s own research travails remain a transparent layer over the body of work that it constructs. [note number=\'30\']Of course, this is precisely what Derrida meant about the “death drive” of the archival impulse. Archive Stories is something of an exception; researchers speak openly here about themselves as researchers. It is interesting, however, that this book—like Steedman’s—doesn’t cite Kaplan’s essay as a precursor text despite the clear titular link.[/note]\r\n\r\nPerhaps it would also be fair to note that, if archival studies are now being formulated as an interdisciplinary discipline called “archive studies,” this might be just another stage in the turn. It might be that what comes next reconfigures the premise of disciplinarity and the promise of disorder, with a different approach to the human/non-human interactions that the archive documents and realizes: a more diffuse and multi-vocal set of practices in place of a new field. One way to imagine this approach would be to fully embrace Kaplan’s idea of the archive story as an account of what one hoped for, looked for and found, what one did and did not do, in the archive—an account loosed from the quarantine she advocates. Some very basic genre precedents for the archive story do exist; the bibliographic essay and the methodology statement, for example, have played an important role in many disciplines in the past and still do in some. Instead of a para-textual nod towards that archive story (in Kaplan’s sense), why not create a parallel text written collaboratively by the researcher(s) and the librarian(s), or by one person acting in both professional capacities, that runs alongside the official “results”? Or in a set of expanded notes that address not just the “what” and “where” but the “how” and “why” of sources, which are lifted from their small-type, bottom-of-page basement up into the light? Or—to add yet another layer—parallel texts that also offer room for exchange with other researchers, archivists and even interested “non specialists,” like collectors, bibliophiles and fans?\r\n\r\nIf it is hasn’t been clear already that I have scrupulously avoided so far the other kind of archive, the digital archive, it will be now. What I am imagining would be far too complicated to produce or consult in print, but would not be at all difficult to organize as a digital object—as an archive in its own right. By avoiding the digital archive up to this point, I have also finessed the fact that our current archival research methods are completely reliant on the digital archive, along with the development of online research tools and electronic instruments of data discovery and organization. Those conditions probably bear the most responsibility for making the archive visible as something that warranted a “turn” in the first place. Even Derrida refers in each version of Archive Fever to the computer on which he is currently composing, predicting that email will not only totally transform the archive as he knows it, but will make his own essay obsolete.\r\n\r\nIn short, we already have in place both the theory and the media that will make it possible to enact a radical new archival practice. We have in place what we need to integrate the archive story into the archive itself, while making it visible as a new form of “results.”\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\n<strong>II. The library doubles as a librarian’s office.</strong>\r\n\r\nI could end here, with a triumphant firing of the starter pistol and a rousing cheer. But that would be a bit disingenuous, given that the starter pistol for both the archival turn and the academic use of the internet actually went off decades ago. So the question remains, what stands in the way of the practical enactment of the archival turn’s speculative insights? I’d like to engage this question by following Kaplan’s example (but not her main claim): through some archive story-telling about the George Peabody Library. These three vignettes, identified as “typical” through conversations with my colleague Paul Espinosa, illustrate the intractable formations that present-day archival encounters come up against.\r\n\r\n<strong>1. The Perils of Description.</strong>\r\n<blockquote>A group of Russian speakers visits the Peabody Library. The dozen men and women sit down around the screen that Paul has set up. He narrates a brief slide-show about the Peabody’s history, then leads them to a table where a dozen books from the collection have been laid out in cradles. He tells them about each book: what it is, why it is interesting. Each phrase of his presentation is painstakingly translated by the group’s leader into Russian.</blockquote>\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhen academic and community groups visit the Peabody, my colleagues and I draw upon a standard tour-guide’s repertoire to describe it. We explain that George Peabody was a tradesman cum financier cum philanthropist who decided in 1857 that Baltimore needed a cultural institution to support the arts and learning. We talk about the evolution of the Peabody Institute, the four-part athenaeum that resulted, with its art gallery, lecture series, conservatory and free, public, non-circulating library. We discuss the model of philanthropy that George Peabody initiated and its wide-ranging influence. We point out the signal features of the awe-inspiring architecture of the current library, built to accommodate a rapidly growing collection in 1878. But when it comes to the library itself, as a collection, it is hard to know what to say. How to accurately translate the library’s holdings into a succinct and memorable statement that conveys an appropriate level of detail to different audiences? While it poses specific challenges, the Peabody also exemplifies more general problems of collection description.\r\n\r\nWe do not lack evidence for the evolving contents of the Peabody. We have the two-volume printed list of “desiderata” drawn up by the Peabody’s first librarian, John G. Morris. [note number=\'31\']Alphabetical Catalogue of Books to be Purchased for the Library of the Peabody Institute, Baltimore, Vols. 1 and 2 (Baltimore: John D. Toy, 1861, 1863).[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'6\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-6-alpha-index-2/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-395\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-395\" title=\"fig 6 alpha index\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-6-alpha-index1-336x484.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"484\" /></a>Alphabetical index from Alphabetical Catalouge (“desiderata”).[/note] We have the collections register for several decades’-worth of acquisitions, recording bibliographic information and accession numbers that can still be found on the inside front end papers of many of the books in the collection. We have the librarians’ annual reports to the library trustees. [note number=\'32\']The Peabody Institute of the City of Baltimore: The Founder’s Letters and the Papers Relating to its Dedication and History, Up to the 1st January, 1868 (Baltimore: William K. Boyle, 1868); and subsequent Annual Reports, 1869, etc.[/note] We have the library’s first printed catalogue, an unsurpassed achievement when first published in 1883, which listed 100,000 volumes by author and title. [note number=\'33\']Catalogue of the Library of the Peabody Institute of the City of Baltimore, Vols. 1-5 (Baltimore: Isaac Friedenwald, 1883; reprinted Boston: G. K. Hall, [1961?]; also on googlebooks), and Second Catalogue of the Library of the Peabody Institute of the City of Baltimore, Including the Additions Made Since 1882, Vols. 1-8 (Baltimore: Deutsch Lithographic and Printing, 1896; reprinted Boston: G. K. Hall, 1961).[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'7\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-7-print-cat/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-396\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-396\" title=\"fig 7 print cat\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-7-print-cat-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Reprinted volumes of the Catalogue of the Library of the Peabody Institute (1883).[/note] We have the cards from the Dewey decimal system card catalogue, which replaced the printed catalogue in the 1910s. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'8\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-8-card-cat/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-397\"><img class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-397\" title=\"fig 8 card cat\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-8-card-cat.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"448\" /></a>One of two card catalogues in the Peabody.[/note] Now, of course, the library’s collections are represented in an online catalogue that integrates them with other collections in the Hopkins library system.\r\n\r\nThese markers of the collection, however, fail to satisfy some contemporary research queries for reasons that are both practical and philosophical. The transfer of the printed index, organized by author, to the Dewey decimal system, organized by topic, represented a major epistemological shift that facilitated browsing by subject category. But of course, those categories are embedded in historically-bound notions about the subjects and structures of knowledge: Dewey was invented in the 1870s, and the 22 revisions it has undergone since then cannot overcome its essential organizational distortions. For example, the literature range—the 800s—offers only 10% of its categorical space to literatures in languages other than English, Germanic and Romance languages, Greek and Latin.\r\n\r\nIn the case of the Peabody, the Dewey arrangements overlay even older systems of knowledge hierarchy. Should we continue to offer, for example, a description of the Peabody’s “voyages and travels” books? This category represents a Renaissance schematic that was still in service in the mid-nineteenth century; while actual “voyages and travels” were extended by colonial ventures, the category was eventually disbanded. Dewey combined it with geography to make a sub-category of “history.” In keeping active the old-fashioned phrase “voyages and travels,” we are participating in a centuries-long project of euphemism about the material aims and actual activities of colonialism; we are privileging an early phase of the Peabody’s evolution over later phases; we may even be confusing modern researchers. And yet, as one of the topics in Morris’s “desiderata,” a considerable portion of the Peabody’s collection was acquired with the aim of fleshing out that descriptor. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'9\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-9-index-detail/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-398\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-398\" title=\"fig 9 index detail\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-9-index-detail-336x274.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"274\" /></a>Detail of subject index from Alphabetical Catalouge No. 2 (“desiderata”).[/note]\r\n\r\nYet another classificatory dilemma is expressed by George Peabody’s original statement of the library’s purpose: that it “be furnished in every department of knowledge, with the most approved literature… It should consist on the best works on every subject… to satisfy the researches of students who may be engaged in the pursuit of knowledge not ordinarily attainable in the private libraries of the country.” [note number=\'34\']“Letters from George Peabody, Esq.: Baltimore, February 12th, 1857,” in Founder’s Letters, 7.[/note] The Peabody was founded as a cultural institution for the people of Baltimore, but from the first, this democratic ambition was in conflict with the intellectual aspirations of the first librarians and their desire to facilitate civic “self-improvement.” Morris (a doctor of divinity), his successor Nathaniel Holmes Morison (a schoolmaster and poet), and Morison’s assistant and successor Philip Uhler (who had trained as an entomologist) were all devoted to the nineteenth-century idea of the scholar-librarian. Morison wrote in one annual report that “Education always proceeds from the above downward, from the best to the common minds, from the leaders of the people to the people themselves. Furnish... the foundations of intelligence and thought, and they will... stimulate and improve the whole community.\" [note number=\'35\']Qtd. in Franklin Parker and Betty J. Parker, “PIB Ref. Library. 8-Morison\'s Philosophy of Excellence,” in George Peabody (1795-1869): A-Z Handbook of the Massachusetts-Born Merchant in the South, London-Based Banker, and Philanthropist\'s Life, Influence, and Related People, Places, Events, and Institutions. . 11 Mar. 2011.[/note] When the Johns Hopkins University was founded in 1876 in close proximity to the Peabody—in large part to take advantage of the library—the tendency of the librarians to address scholarly needs and “approved literature” over popular desires was given additional momentum. In keeping with these ideas, the Peabody’s librarians kept careful track of their readers’ choices, noting with special caution the numbers of novels that were requested. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'10\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-10-annual-report-detail/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-399\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-399\" title=\"fig 10 annual report detail\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-10-annual-report-detail-336x452.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"452\" /></a>Detail from First Annual Report showing chart of books read, with special mention of fiction.[/note] This schism at the heart of the library’s collecting paradigm was not unique to the Peabody; the question of reading matter—should it offer leisure for the masses or the means of social uplift?—was central to the public library movement of the second half of the nineteenth century. [note number=\'36\']See, for example, Alexis McCrossen, “’One Cathedral More’ or ‘Mere Lounging Places for Bummers’? The Cultural Politics of Leisure and the Public Library in Gilded Age America,” Libraries &amp; Culture 41.2 (2006): 169-188; Paul Sturges, “The Public Library and Reading by the Masses: Historical Perspectives on the USA and Britain 1850-1900,”; Trustees of the Public Library of the City of Boston, Upon the Objects to be Attained by the Establishment of a Public Library, 12 Dec. 2010.[/note]\r\n\r\nFinally, the Peabody’s “desiderata” acquisitions and librarians’ selections were supplemented by book donations from local elites—bibliophiles with extensive private collections that included incunabula, classical authors in Renaissance editions, expensive illustrated atlases. At the same time, book donations came in from more plebian sources. The Peabody’s growth overlapped with the decline of the local social libraries, and it eventually absorbed some of the books from the Library Company of Baltimore, Robinson’s Circulating Library and several small professional and mechanics’ libraries. And I haven’t even touched on the Peabody’s twentieth-century fate.\r\n\r\nThe variety of philanthropic impulses, resource streams and classification philosophies that have fed the Peabody over the 150 years of its existence has led to a collection that does not so much map the nineteenth-century mind as signal its odd amalgam of popular and scholarly investments. The Peabody’s collection effectively evades succinct description—at least, any kind of description that pretends to be coherent, that is not perforated by its stakes in local history, library history, book history. But more importantly, it suggests the degree to which accident and opportunity and prejudice and wealth and the changing winds of cataloguing rules shape any archive. Description, which should be the most fundamental tool of communication between librarians and researchers, turns out to be utterly elusive. Yet we do not know what to replace them with, these inadequate descriptions, these exercises in stilted and partial translation.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\n<strong>2. The Researcher’s Progress.</strong>\r\n<blockquote>I am preparing for my class about women and nineteenth-century print culture, which meets in the Peabody; we have reached the part of the syllabus where we look at gift books and annuals. I want students to examine several examples of these literary miscellanies, offering some illustration of their variety, and I have a list of such items that I have used in the past. But since I also want to show the students new acquisitions, I need to refresh my list. I will start with “gift book” as a keyword in the online catalogue.</blockquote>\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn place of perfect and commensurate description—not possible—what we have are cataloguing systems that indexically represent collections through data and metadata that are, as I have already suggested, historically marked and inevitably inconsistent. In the case of the Peabody, these records are further compromised: Dewey cards developed from a nineteenth-century print index do not offer Library of Congress subject terms or detailed tables of contents; they also frequently lack other kinds of information. [note number=\'37\']Many of the electronic records for Peabody books have been copy-cataloged, that is, developed from records for identical books in other libraries. But these records might also be incomplete or inconsistent, given that many are quite old. The expense of original cataloging prevents our staff from creating full, new records for every item in the Peabody’s collection of over 300,000 titles.[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'11\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-11-ddc-cards/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-400\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-400\" title=\"fig 11 ddc cards\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-11-ddc-cards-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Dewey cards for “gift books.”[/note] My search for “gift book” will turn up bequests—the term “gift book” is often attached to these donations—and it will miss many of the nineteenth-century gift books and annuals in our collection whose records lack subject classifications, or whose subject classifications reference the book’s contents, not its format. For example, the 1848 Rough and Ready Annual: or, Military Souvenir published by Appleton’s has been assigned the subject “Mexican War, 1846-1848—Anecdotes.” [note number=\'38\']Rough and Ready Annual (New York: D. Appleton; Philadelphia: G.S. Appleton, 1848).[/note]\r\n\r\nThe problem of finding is perhaps only a sub-set of the problem of description, but I want to give it special attention because it introduces another variable: the physical space of the object. My search for gift books in the Peabody also entails the privilege of retrieving the books from the stacks. There are two search processes, the intellectual and the physical, that I must navigate. The intellectual search in this case requires a variety of keyword/date range combinations, and ultimately, recourse to my prepared bibliography—a holdover from pre-catalogue research methods. Now the second search begins.\r\n\r\nThe Rough and Ready Annual is at 973.62 A5121, in the “general history of North America; United States” category. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'12\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-12-rr/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-401\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-401\" title=\"fig 12 r&amp;r\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-12-rr-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>The Rough and Ready Annual in the stacks.[/note] This call number range is on the second floor, west side. Other items on my list are in very different parts of the library. Orange Blossoms: A Gift Book for All Who Have Worn, Are Wearing, Or are Likely to Wear Them, edited by the temperance writer T. S. Arthur and published in London, has been given the call number 813 A7910 duodecimo—fourth floor east, in the “American literature in English, fiction” section. [note number=\'39\']Orange Blossoms: A Gift Book for All Who Have Worn, Are Wearing, Or are Likely to Wear Them (London: Knight &amp; Co., [1857]). This title does not appear in at least one Arthur bibliography; see Donald A Koch, \"Timothy Shay Arthur,\" Antebellum Writers in New York and the South, ed. Joel Myerson (Detroit: Gale Research, 1979), from Literature Resource Center. Web. 19 Feb. 2011. To check on this, I need Mitchell Sharpe Jr.’s A Bibliography of the Published Books of Timothy Shay Arthur (Atlanta: Emory University, 1954), a typewritten quarto at 012 A791S, but it seems to be missing.[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'13\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-13-orange/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-402\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-402\" title=\"fig 13 orange\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-13-orange-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Orange Blossoms in the stacks.[/note] Arthur shows up again as co-editor of The Baltimore Book: A Christmas and New-Year\'s Present, which has received more extensive description as it contains the first printing of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “Siope.” [note number=\'40\']The Baltimore Book: A Christmas and New-Year\'s Present (Baltimore: Bayly and Burns, [1838]).[/note] We have two copies of this very genteel little gift book, one at 808.83 B2175 (rhetoric &amp; collections of literature), and one at 810.8 C297 (American literature in English). The New Casket: A Gift Book for All Seasons is in the rare book room at the south end of the third floor. [note number=\'41\']The New Casket: A Gift Book for All Seasons (London: The Religious Tract Society, ca. 1850).[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'14\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-14-rbr/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-403\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-403\" title=\"fig 14 rbr\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-14-rbr-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>The rare book room.[/note] In this case, the book’s rarity has to do with a lovely fore-edge painting. It has been assigned to 820.8 N42017 (general books about literature). On the other end of the “rare” continuum is The Family Circle and Parlor Annual, volume 5 in a series, which is shelved up on the sixth floor with the periodicals at 051 F198 (serials in American English). [note number=\'42\']The Family Circle and Parlor Annual (New York: Comstock, 1847).[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'15\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-15-parlor/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-404\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-404\" title=\"fig 15 parlor\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-15-parlor-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>The Parlor Annual in the stacks.[/note]\r\n\r\nI’ll fill out call slips for each book, stick the slips into red flags, and put the flags in an order that will help me chart a logical course through the stacks. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'16\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-16-slips/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-405\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-405\" title=\"fig 16 slips\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-16-slips-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Call slips and flags.[/note] It’s easiest to start on the sixth floor and work one’s way down, picking up books along the way. Usually I find other interesting items as I go, so I carry a batch of blank call slips and extra flags. (On this occasion, for example, I find The New American Reader: Containing Choice Pieces, in Prose and Verse; published in 1813 and inscribed by its owner in 1817, it pre-dates by several years the official beginning of the gift book phenomenon. It might be more of a “literary almanac.” [note number=\'43\']The New American Reader: Containing Choice Pieces, in Prose and Verse (Philadelphia: David Hogan, 1813).[/note] [note type=\'figure\' number=\'17\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-17-new-reader/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-406\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-406\" title=\"fig 17 new reader\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-17-new-reader-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Inscription in The New American Reader.[/note]) Usually I am also unable to locate at least one of the books I have set out to find. Most likely the book has been misshelved, so I’ll check the quartos and folios, which are shelved separately; then I’ll check the rare book room’s octavo, duodecimo and quarto shelving areas. It used to astonish me that books were still shelved by format in the Peabody, but it does save space. At the same time, this shelving system—along with the multiple distinct areas within the library where books may reside, eg the rare book room, the reference section, the genealogy books, the Limited Editions Club, and several discrete named collections—means that retrieving a few books can take quite a long time, as I traipse up and down the six floors of the library, thread through stacks, open secured doors with multiple keys, turn lights on and off, and maneuver a book truck in and out of a tiny service elevator built in the 1920s. By the end of the journey, the library and I will have exchanged dust; I’ll take on a few streaks of red rot, and the library will have taken in particles from my body as well.\r\n\r\nWhile the Peabody is unique, these conditions are not in the end very unusual. In terms of the intellectual search, the absence of “gift book” from many of the catalogue records is no less egregious than the absence of other information—the names of all the contributors; the subjects of the illustrations. The metadata is potentially infinite. The “gift book” only exists as a category because of scholars who teased out this cultural phenomenon; it would be very difficult to define its absolute borders. In terms of the physical search, the Peabody might be messier than, say, a rare book library that has assigned current LC call numbers to all its contents and houses them in compact shelving, but it exemplifies the general on-the-ground situation. As I wind my way through the Peabody stacks, I remember how much more difficult it is to gather research materials from several different institutions.\r\n\r\nThe fact is, for scholars who rely on archives, research is something you do only after you have already undertaken a rigorous search. It is the search that provides you with the foundational sense of your subject. But the search is rarely acknowledged or accredited; even the foot-soldier craft of bibliography, the link between “librarianship” and “scholarship,” has largely lost its scholarly status.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\n<strong>3. An Architecture of Disctinction.</strong>\r\n<blockquote>A non-affiliate researcher contacts the Peabody about our H. L. Mencken collections. Since she will bring a couple of graduate students with her, I set up a group work space in one of the library alcoves where the three of them can share materials and talk without disturbing other readers. I pull the requested volumes with the help of some students and set the cart up within easy reach of the alcove. When the researchers arrive, I show them the Mencken collections on the ground floor. Then I lead them to their group work space and leave them, returning to the glassed-in office behind the reading room, the vantage point that allows me to monitor the otherwise empty reading room.</blockquote>\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn “The Silence of the Library: Environment, Situational Norm, and Social Behavior,” a team of Dutch sociologists investigates the library as a space that is strongly marked by situational norms—“knowledge-based beliefs about how to behave in particular situations that are shaped by social influence.” [note number=\'44\']Henk Aarts and Ap Dijksterhuis, “The Silence of the Library: Environment, Situational Norm, and Social Behavior,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 84.1 (2003), 19.[/note] Their research leads them to argue, however, that such norms do not require direct social influences to be triggered; in fact, “the situation can activate mental representations of normative behaviors automatically. And once activated, these representations provide the knowledge necessary for guiding one’s own situationally appropriate behavior.” [note number=\'45\']Aarts and Dijksterhuis, 19.[/note] Physical environments do not necessarily prompt these behaviors; rather, the behavior “depend[s] on whether the environment is of immediate behavioral relevance.” [note number=\'46\']Aarts and Dijksterhuis, 20.[/note] Talking in a quiet voice in the library, a normative behavior, is only activated for those who plan to visit the library.\r\n\r\nTen years ago, when the research for this article was conducted, the “silence of the library” was still a widespread norm. While the situation is now often reversed—in our main campus library, we must designate specific quiet areas because otherwise a sociable undergraduate din would take over—the norm of silence does continue to preside at the Peabody. Because it is off campus, the Peabody is often attractively under-populated compared to the crowded main library; it is mostly used by advanced researchers and those who seek a quiet place to study. The large central open area catches and amplifies even the smallest noises. The shelf-lined alcoves on either side of this central area offer the appearance of privacy, but in fact are little echo chambers. Visitors immediately detect these acoustics, and—except for the periodic tour groups—most spend their time in the Peabody in silence. But it is not just the physics of sound that shape behaviors here, as the Dutch researchers show; the social expectations of the space prefigure those behaviors.\r\n\r\nIn setting up a group work space for the Mencken researchers, I have quite deliberately contravened the usual norm of silence. Clearly, I am not inviting them to shout, and by putting them in an alcove in back, I have taken measures to protect any quiet-seeking visitors who might arrive. But in accordance with new ideas about the use of library space, my colleagues and I have decided that we must accommodate group study even if it might occasionally disrupt the silence desired by others. As it happens, the Mencken researchers’ conversation is eventually interrupted by a tour group, and the two activities play out side by side.\r\n\r\nI must admit that at moments I have mixed feelings about the tour groups and even the study cohorts. While my pedagogical instincts tend towards cheerful hub-bub, there is a part of me that is still in awe of the sanctuary-like atmosphere of the Peabody. John Morris called the library a “cathedral of books,” and clearly that’s what architect Edmund G. Lind had in mind. The central area with its grand skylight and the alcoves on its sides is like a nave bordered with chapels. Lind didn’t need a psychological study of environment-based situational norms to tell him that he might activate different behaviors within his building. The great central space inspires reverence—your eye is drawn to the skylight the way it would be drawn to the rose windows of Chartres, and on its way up catches row upon solemn row of books stowed behind gilded railings, a testament to the accumulated wisdom of the ages. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'18\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-18-skylight/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-407\"><img class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-407\" title=\"fig 18 skylight\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-18-skylight.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"448\" /></a>The skylight in the George Peabody Library.[/note] But step into an alcove, especially on the ground floor where each is filled with an immense wooden table, and you instantly feel something else, something no less grand but more human. The alcoves are study-sized, and once you sit down at one of those dark, gleaming, broad tables, it is like you are the master of your own private library. [note type=\'figure\' number=\'19\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-19-alcove/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-408\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-408\" title=\"fig 19 alcove\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-19-alcove-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Alcove in the George Peabody Library.[/note]\r\n\r\nIronically, the Peabody’s architecture was out-dated by the time it was completed. With the professionalization of librarianship and the evolution of library science in the late nineteenth century, librarians like William Frederick Poole advocated for a functional rather than decorative design of interior library space. [note number=\'47\']See William Frederick Poole, Remarks on Library Construction (Chicago: Jansen, McClurg, 1884).[/note] Moreover, the actual use of space in the Peabody in the late nineteenth century was at odds with its symbolic appeal. The main library was known as the “stack room”; readers were seated in a comparatively plain reading room on the other side of the main doors. In this arrangement, the librarians reigned inside the gorgeous “cathedral of books,” but the building’s potential to civilize the masses was lost.\r\n\r\nNow, of course, we do not send readers outside. Inside the “stack room,” we explicitly call visitors’ attention to its beauty to explain the connections between the library’s architecture and its collections—how both speak eloquently of Victorian values. At the same time, we who staff the library have relegated ourselves to its periphery. We work in the glassed-in room at one end that serves as a monitoring point and occasional classroom; the official “librarian’s office” in one corner—its luxurious proportions suggesting something like a sacristy and something like a robber baron’s lair—is now shared work-space stuffed with several desks and laden book trucks. There is another monitoring station near the main doors. I often do my work at the photography station, in the back of one of the alcoves [note type=\'figure\' number=\'20\']<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/archives-remixed/archeology-of-archival-practice/attachment/fig-20-station/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-409\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-409\" title=\"fig 20 station\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/fig-20-station-336x252.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"333\" height=\"250\" /></a>Photography station in the George Peabody Library.[/note]. It offers some privacy but is close enough to the central reading tables to be accessible to readers.\r\n\r\nThe space of the Peabody initiates other situational behaviors besides the norm of silence, and our work-station arrangements testify to this. The spatial re-centralizing of readers and marginalization of staff is not merely practical; it is a reflection of the modern office of librarianship. We are there to be of service, in a para-textual position. Consequently, our work should be out of sight; it should be separate from and secondary to the work that readers do. Our locations call upon us, in other words, to support the scholar’s effort to hide the “seams of [her] findings” by hiding the ways we contribute to that work—by the ways we sometimes do that work.\r\n\r\nI think about these complications as I escort the Mencken researchers to their table and walk back to the glassed-in office, where there is nothing pressing for me to do. I’d rather spend more time talking with them. I’d like to learn about their research and introduce them to some underappreciated parts of the collection. I’d like to share with them what I learned curating an exhibition of Mencken-related magazines and writing about one of those magazines. But I don’t want to get in their way; it’s likely that they are ready to get on with work that they don’t see as connected to mine. The professional norms of the archive are strong, and although I know how to talk about my research in many contexts—in presentations, interviews, hotel elevators—I haven’t figured out how to mix my scholarly role with the curatorial role I am supposed to play here, in the Peabody. In the end, I say nothing. Professional segregation is another kind of silence in the library.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWe cannot change the archaeological record beneath our feet, but we can rearrange the fossils we dig up to create new narratives. We can tell different kinds of archive stories, including the story of what research in the archive was and is. Is it too idealistic to expect that dissolving the entrenched fantasies about archival research will make room for new methods? Is it naïve to imagine a space that, in putting into practice the archival turn’s preliminary insights about disciplinary and disorder, can support experimentation, facilitate connection across professions and disciplines, and enable new discoveries?','Disciplinarity and Disorder','The primal scene of archival research takes place in a dreary reading room.  A researcher sits at her table, inert.  An archivist enters, pushing a cart that bears a dozen dusty gray boxes.  (Can we get a close-up of a box, please, to show the label with the long call number?)  The archivist unhinges a box, removes a numbered file folder and, placing it at the researcher’s elbow, steps back.  The researcher stirs, then sits upright with a mechanical jolt.  She turns sharply in the direction of the folder, flips it open and cocks her head towards the flimsy leaves inside; now she is reading.  (Zoom in on the eyes as they click into focus.)','inherit','open','open','','345-revision-94','','','2012-04-25 22:37:40','2012-04-25 22:37:40','',345,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/345-revision-94/',0,'revision','',0),(1781,13,'2012-04-25 00:42:45','2012-04-25 00:42:45','','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-12','','','2012-04-25 00:42:45','2012-04-25 00:42:45','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/1711-revision-12/',0,'revision','',0),(1782,13,'2012-04-25 21:11:35','2012-04-25 21:11:35','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-29','','','2012-04-25 21:11:35','2012-04-25 21:11:35','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/1500-revision-29/',0,'revision','',0),(1783,13,'2012-04-25 22:53:38','2012-04-25 22:53:38','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-30','','','2012-04-25 22:53:38','2012-04-25 22:53:38','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/1500-revision-30/',0,'revision','',0),(1784,13,'2012-04-27 19:50:24','2012-04-27 19:50:24','','Page Options','','publish','closed','closed','','acf_page-options','','','2012-09-17 22:48:39','2012-09-17 22:48:39','',0,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/?post_type=acf&#038;p=1784',0,'acf','',0),(1785,13,'2012-03-06 08:37:54','2012-03-06 08:37:54','','360°','','inherit','open','open','','16-revision-31','','','2012-03-06 08:37:54','2012-03-06 08:37:54','',16,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/16-revision-31/',0,'revision','',0),(1786,13,'2012-04-25 22:54:22','2012-04-25 22:54:22','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-31','','','2012-04-25 22:54:22','2012-04-25 22:54:22','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/1500-revision-31/',0,'revision','',0),(1787,13,'2012-04-27 19:54:13','2012-04-27 19:54:13','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-32','','','2012-04-27 19:54:13','2012-04-27 19:54:13','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/1500-revision-32/',0,'revision','',0),(1788,13,'2012-04-23 17:03:00','2012-04-23 17:03:00','<iframe src=\"http://player.vimeo.com/video/40877170?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\"></iframe>','The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln','','inherit','open','open','','1752-revision-6','','','2012-04-23 17:03:00','2012-04-23 17:03:00','',1752,'http://stage.archivejournal.net//uncategorized/1752-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(1789,13,'2012-03-06 20:12:54','2012-03-06 20:12:54','<iframe src=\"http://player.vimeo.com/video/37986760?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\"></iframe>','The Development of Masculinity','','inherit','open','open','','1698-revision-4','','','2012-03-06 20:12:54','2012-03-06 20:12:54','',1698,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue//uncategorized/1698-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1790,13,'2012-02-16 20:22:25','2012-02-16 20:22:25','My experience in the archive directly contributed to my interest in graduate school, which is perhaps unsurprising when you think about the demands of archival work. The move from undergraduate to graduate study shares the guiding principles of archival work. You must first learn what others have said before the foray into the topics that demand further examination. Archival research, in this sense, is the unending game of hide-and-seek with that perfect research subject we yen for in each new project, class, and semester.\r\n\r\nAside from its importance in the training of future scholars, archival work is an important paradigm even for students who have less professional allegiances to the academy. Original research is a principle worth thinking about closely in undergraduate course design, as it signifies the marketable job placement skills that are supposed to be evidence of proper university training. In the 1997 <em>Harper’s Magazine</em> essay “On the Uses of a Liberal Education,” Mark Edmundson suggests undergraduate study has become “lite entertainment for bored college students.” He writes, “University culture, like American culture writ large, is, to put it crudely, ever more devoted to consumption and entertainment, to the using and using up of goods and images.”<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn1\">[1]</a> Edmundson goes on to argue that the transactional nature of undergraduate study creates an imbalance between what professors look to put into a syllabus and what students seek to get out of it. But if we think about archival research as a process of skill development, it just may serve as a corrective to the literal and figurative banking concept of education.\r\n\r\nArchival work is often thought to be opposed methodologically to new media research techniques, an unfair corollary being that undergraduates, as “digital natives,” must learn and maintain a skill set in the archive apart from their new media literacy. How, for example, should undergraduates navigate the thick mess of a paper archive when Facebook and Twitter are their daily information grounds? If the job market is increasingly concerned with social media, why should students spend time poring over “dead” technologies? Contrary to the notion that the archive and new media are irreconcilable, we might instead think of them as complementary educational forces. It is no coincidence, for example, that undergraduates in the archive are more likely to be keen and discerning arbiters of information.\r\n<div><br clear=\"all\" />\r\n\r\n<hr align=\"left\" size=\"1\" width=\"33%\" />\r\n\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[1]</a> Mark Edmundson, “On the Uses of a Liberal Education: I. As Lite Entertainment for Bored College Students,” <em>Harper’s Magazine</em>, September 1997, 40.\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n</div>','Vodou Songs - Gotkin 2','','inherit','open','open','','1527-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:22:25','2012-02-16 20:22:25','',1527,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/%issue%/uncategorized/1527-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1791,19,'2012-10-29 18:44:50','2012-10-29 18:44:50','<em>The Vodou Archive</em> is a collaborative partnership spearheaded by the University of Florida and Duke University which seeks to improve the understanding of a central Haitian and Haitian-American spiritual tradition by gathering the <strong>audiovisual</strong> and <strong>textual</strong> sources of Vodou communities, by <strong>interpreting</strong> what we collect, by <strong>expanding </strong>the holdings through a <strong>self-submission tool</strong>, and by diffusing the knowledge via an open access digital library.  You can find the current prototype here (<a href=\"http://www.dloc.com/vodou\">http://www.dloc.com/vodou</a>),  hosted within the existing <a href=\"http://dloc.com/\">Digital Library of the Caribbean</a> (dLOC). In addition to the 27 international partners working with the Digital Library of the Caribbean, collaborators from the University of Notre Dame, the University of Miami, the Schrijversvakschool, Florida International University, the Université des Antilles et de la Guyane, and City Lore, among others, will contribute elements to <strong><em>The Vodou Archive</em></strong>. This project belongs to a tradition of scholarly work stretching back to the early 20<sup>th</sup> century that has sought to counter reductionist and racist visions of the religion through ethnography, analysis of culture and music, and an exploration of the role of Vodou in Haiti’s founding revolution. Such work has long turned to the central texts in Haitian Vodou: its <strong>Creole-language songs</strong>.\n\nBuilding on my <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<a href=\"#_ftn1\">[1]</a> <em>The Vodou Archive</em> project makes these songs available in Haitian Creole and English along with substantial interpretative annotations and essays to contextualize the collection. The materials to be edited and curated in <em>The Vodou Archive</em> are of major literary, historical, cultural and religious significance. The vast Vodou corpus stands out because it preserves a wealth of African cultural, ethnological and historical knowledge.<a href=\"#_ftn2\">[2]</a> (Beauvoir 2008b). The oral and textual corpora of songs are comprised of the authentic and living traditions of the Vodou religion. They are primarily the songs that are sung in the context of Vodou worship in public and domestic ceremonies and they constitute the sacred literature of the religion. Vodou songs, a constant in ceremonies, address the mythologies and characteristics of the lwa and they describe their relations with humans. Vodou songs are time capsules that reveal the history and origins of the Haitian people in Africa, their journey to the Americas in the French slave trade, and their lives in the French colony. Due to their sacred nature, they are very well-preserved records of African and Haitian history and culture.<a href=\"#_ftn3\">[3]</a>). Ceremonies and songs preserve African historical (i.e. <em>Bosou</em>, <em>Achade</em>, <em>Legba</em>, <em>Danbala</em>), cultural (i.e. <em>lwa</em>,<em> ounsi</em>, <em>ason</em>,<em> oungan</em>) and geographical (i.e. <em>Rada</em>, <em>Savalou</em>, <em>Boumba</em>) terms in a creolized or blended religious and cultural system.<a href=\"#_ftn4\">[4]</a> <a href=\"#_msocom_1\">[C1]</a> Likewise, there are numerous Vodou ceremonies (rites) classified by the African <em>nanchon </em>(nations/communities) where they originate, i.e. Rada, Petwo, Ginen, Seneka, Ibo, Danwonmen, Nago, Kongo, Kita, etc.<a href=\"#_ftn5\">[5]</a>\n\nUndergraduates played, and will play, a key role in this archive.  They contributed first drafts of transcriptions and translations of Vodou songs and interviews with Vodou practitioners for the book, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em> (Hebblethwaite 2012). The undergraduate students worked on transcribing and translating interviews that I collected from Vodou priests in Haiti and they also transcribed and translated rare pre-existing published materials.<a href=\"#_ftn6\">[6]</a>   The students, Joanne Bartley, Vanessa Brissault, Kat Warwick, Wilmide Vernet, and Musset Apollon, were either paid hourly through grant funding or they earned credit for an independent study. We worked from manuscripts that employ a range of Haitian Creole spelling systems. The official variety, the “IPN,” named after the <em>Institut Pédagogique National</em>, was adopted for the first time in 1980. Many of our manuscripts predate 1980 and thus transcription required heavy correction and consultation with lexicographical works.<a href=\"#_ftn7\">[7]</a>The students had been exposed to the official variety of Haitian Creole spelling in my intermediate Haitian Creole course. After establishing the Haitian Creole source text, the students next produced the first draft of the English translation. I then corrected the Haitian Creole and English drafts in various cycles as the materials moved towards the finished products, the book or the Vodou Archive.  (See Figure 1, and for the related Vodou Archive digital library, Figures 2 &amp; 3.)<span class=\"caption\" style=\"width: 166px; margin-bottom: 20px;\"><a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig1.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-2358\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px; margin-right: 10px;\" title=\"hebbelthwaite_fig1\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig1-166x250.jpg\" alt=\"Figure 1\" width=\"166\" height=\"250\" /></a> Figure 1: The book cover of Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English.</span>\n\n<span class=\"caption left\" style=\"margin-right: 20px; width: 266px; clear: none;\"><a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig2.jpg\"><img class=\" wp-image-2359\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\" title=\"hebbelthwaite_fig2\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig2-333x208.jpg\" alt=\"Figure 2\" width=\"266\" height=\"166\" /></a> Figure 2: The homepage of the Vodou Archive.</span><span class=\"caption left\" style=\"margin-right: 10px; width: 266px; clear: none;\"><a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig3.jpg\"><img class=\" wp-image-2360\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px; clear: right;\" title=\"hebbelthwaite_fig3\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/hebbelthwaite_fig3-333x208.jpg\" alt=\"Figure 3\" width=\"266\" height=\"166\" /></a> Figure 3: This screen shot presents the view inside of the Vodou Archive with the filter menu for narrowing results on the left hand side of the screen.</span>\n<div class=\"footnotes\">\n\n&nbsp;\n<div id=\"_ftn1\" class=\"footnote\">[1] Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English </em> <em>= Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em> (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012).</div>\n<div id=\"_ftn2\" class=\"footnote\">[2] Max Beauvoir, <em>Le Grand Recueil Sacré ou Répertoire des Chansons du Vodou Haïtien </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti, 2008).</div>\n<div id=\"_ftn3\" class=\"footnote\">[3] Claudine Michel, “Vodou in Haiti: Way of Life and Mode of Survival,” in <em>Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture: Invisible Powers, </em>ed. Claudine Michel and Patrick Bellegarde-Smith (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 27–37.<em></em></div>\n<div id=\"_ftn4\" class=\"footnote\">[4] See Roger Brand, <em>Cultes vodoun et textes oraux des Wéménou du sud Bénin </em>(Munich: Lincom Europa, 2000), 15; Marc Monsia, <em>Religions indigènes et savoir endogène au Bénin </em>(Cotonou, Benin: Les Éditions du Flamboyant, 2003); Gilbert Rouget, <em>La musique et la transe </em>(Paris: Gallimard, 1991 (1980)); and Gilbert Rouget, <em>Initiatique vôdoun, images du rituel: Chants et danses initiatiques pour le culte des vôdoun au Bénin </em>(Saint-Maur, France: Éditions Sépia, 2001), v.</div>\n<div id=\"_ftn5\" class=\"footnote\">[5] Max G. Beauvoir, <em>Lapriyè Ginen </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti. 2008), 109-110.</div>\n<div id=\"_ftn6\" class=\"footnote\">[6] Milo Marcelin, <em>Mythologie Vodou (Rite Arada)</em>,<em> </em>2 vols. (Pétionville: Éditions Canapé Vert, 1950); Laura Boulton, “Laura Boulton’s Songs” (1947), in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English = Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em>, eds. Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012), 127-145;  J.L., “J.L. Songs,” in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<em> </em>147-184; Harold Courlander, unpublished manuscript (1939–1940), University of Michigan Special Collections Library; Milo Rigaud, <em>La tradition voudoo et le voudoo haïtien: Son temple, ses mystères, sa magie </em>(Paris: Éditions Niclaus, 1953).</div>\n<div id=\"_ftn7\" class=\"footnote\">[7] Albert Valdman, Iskra Iskrova, Jacques Pierre, and Nicolas André, <em>Haitian Creole-English Bilingual Dictionary</em> (Bloomington, IN: Creole Institute, 2007); Bryant Freeman and Jowel Laguerre, <em>Haitian-English Dictionary</em>, 5th ed. (Lawrence, KS: Institute of Haitian Studies, 2004).</div>\n<div id=\"_msoanchor_1\" class=\"footnote\">[C1] The Brand citation is here. The original reference is: (Brand 2000: 15; Monsia 2003; Rouget 1991, 2001: v).  Which of the two Brand books should be referenced (I chose 2000a, but that could be wrong)?</div>\n</div>','Undergraduates in the Archives - Hebblethwaite 1','The Vodou Archive is a collaborative partnership spearheaded by the University of Florida and Duke University which seeks to improve the understanding of a central Haitian and Haitian-American spiritual tradition by gathering the audiovisual and textual sources of Vodou communities, by interpreting what we collect, by expanding the holdings through a self-submission tool, and by diffusing the knowledge via an open access digital library.  ','inherit','open','open','','1504-autosave','','','2012-10-29 18:44:50','2012-10-29 18:44:50','',1504,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/uncategorized/1504-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1794,13,'2012-02-16 20:24:22','2012-02-16 20:24:22','As an undergraduate, I felt like the archive primed me to search for pristine differences between the past and present, as if the past is a foreign country I was visiting while in the archive and must be translated into a more modern language. Yet the evidence I worked with was rarely so easily explained on the page. Similarities across time were often differences in addition. There was also the logistical challenge of gauging the depth of a semester-long archival project. I had the classic Goldilocks problem of finding a research question that was neither too big nor too small.\r\n\r\nThe added obstacle is that undergraduates rarely devote their time to academics as faithfully as graduate students and faculty do. As an undergraduate, I was juggling internships, part-time jobs, and community service with my class work. Before I started my undergraduate archival work, I usually resolved the logistical tangles by relegating reading and writing to the wee morning hours. When I needed to start visiting collections around New York City, this wasn’t so easy. I started setting aside time to commute uptown to the New York Public Library, for example, while giving myself enough time to grab lunch and get back downtown for class.\r\n\r\nThe challenge was manageable on a practical level, but also on a conceptual one. Undergraduates – and I include myself when I was one – tend to think that setting aside business hours for internships will help develop the practical skills necessary for landing the perfect job after graduation. And there’s no denying that internships can be useful in teaching the rigors of the workplace. But when we design courses for undergraduates, requiring them to spend time actively engaged in searching and <em>re</em>-searching, the pace and tenor of undergraduate study changes. In my experience, substituting work done alone late in my apartment for the work of talking with librarians, archivists, and other experts, was a far more meaningful undergraduate experience, and something that was actually easily marketable for a job interview.','Vodou Songs - Gotkin 5','','inherit','open','open','','1536-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:24:22','2012-02-16 20:24:22','',1536,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/uncategorized/1536-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1795,13,'2012-04-27 19:50:37','2012-04-27 19:50:37','','360°','','inherit','open','open','','16-revision-32','','','2012-04-27 19:50:37','2012-04-27 19:50:37','',16,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/16-revision-32/',0,'revision','',0),(1796,13,'2012-05-07 20:54:24','2012-05-07 20:54:24','','360°','','inherit','open','open','','16-revision-33','','','2012-05-07 20:54:24','2012-05-07 20:54:24','',16,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/issue/2/16-revision-33/',0,'revision','',0),(1797,13,'2012-05-07 20:57:16','2012-05-07 20:57:16','','360°','','inherit','open','open','','16-revision-34','','','2012-05-07 20:57:16','2012-05-07 20:57:16','',16,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/uncategorized/issue/2/16-revision-34/',0,'revision','',0),(1798,13,'2012-05-07 20:59:08','2012-05-07 20:59:08','','360°','','inherit','open','open','','16-revision-35','','','2012-05-07 20:59:08','2012-05-07 20:59:08','',16,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/16-revision-35/',0,'revision','',0),(1799,13,'2012-03-07 05:55:43','2012-03-07 05:55:43','','Archives, Remixed','','inherit','open','open','','18-revision-13','','','2012-03-07 05:55:43','2012-03-07 05:55:43','',18,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/18-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1800,13,'2012-04-25 00:34:08','2012-04-25 00:34:08','','Hands-On Research with Rare Books and Ephemera ','This case study features work that two students completed in an English class at Goucher College. The course, The Archeology of Text, offers students an understanding of the social and historical frameworks for the production and consumption of text, beginning with the digital age and moving backwards in time. Students are also trained in bibliographic research skills, which they apply to objects in Goucher’s Special Collections library. These objects then become the subjects of a research paper that serves as the final course project.','inherit','open','open','','1047-revision-26','','','2012-04-25 00:34:08','2012-04-25 00:34:08','',1047,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1047-revision-26/',0,'revision','',0),(1801,13,'2012-04-25 00:33:49','2012-04-25 00:33:49','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','The final project for students enrolled in the course Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations, offered at the Walters Art Museum through Johns Hopkins University, was to trace the provenance of museum objects and describe their historical significance through Google Earth tours. This case study features the work of three students. Their tours, as well as those of several others, have been published by the Walters Art Museum as part of the online exhibit <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-46','','','2012-04-25 00:33:49','2012-04-25 00:33:49','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-46/',0,'revision','',0),(1802,13,'2012-05-28 18:08:59','2012-05-28 18:08:59','The final project for students enrolled in the course Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations, offered at the Walters Art Museum through Johns Hopkins University, was to trace the provenance of museum objects and describe their historical significance through Google Earth tours. This case study features the work of three students. Their tours, as well as those of several others, have been published by the Walters Art Museum as part of the online exhibit <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>.','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-47','','','2012-05-28 18:08:59','2012-05-28 18:08:59','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-47/',0,'revision','',0),(1803,13,'2012-04-25 00:34:00','2012-04-25 00:34:00','','Archival Materials into Documentary Film','Students in an English and Women’s Studies undergraduate course at Lehigh University used materials from Lehigh’s Special Collections and University Archives to create a documentary film. The students used these archival resources, along with interviews and other research, to tell a chapter of their own institution’s history, focusing on issues of gender and masculinity as Lehigh went from all-male to coed in 1971.','inherit','open','open','','1108-revision-13','','','2012-04-25 00:34:00','2012-04-25 00:34:00','',1108,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1108-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1804,13,'2012-04-25 00:34:29','2012-04-25 00:34:29','[caption id=\"attachment_1258\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The Gado 2 Robotic Scanner scanning photos at the Afro.\"]<a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1258\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 1_gado\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-1_gado.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1259\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The East Baltimore Oral History Player, showing the index entry for a resident whose story Tom Smith helped to document and record.\"]<a href=\"http://eboh.jhu.edu/oralhistoryplayer\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1259\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 2_eboh\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-2_eboh.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"667\" /></a>[/caption]','Student-Built Archival Tools','This case study focuses on a student who contributed much more than expected to digital projects by creating two archival tools: a web application for an oral history archive and a low-cost robotic scanner for paper-based materials. In a practicum course at Johns Hopkins University, Tom Smith and his peers worked on recording and organizing oral histories. Smith also developed an audio player for the digital archive. This work brought him in contact with the <a href=\"http://magazine.jhu.edu/2011/11/unboxing-history/\" target=\"_blank\">Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project</a> (DPAAP) and led Smith to invent another tool: the <a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\" target=\"_blank\">Gado scanner</a>. This powerful, durable robotic scanner digitizes sensitive archival materials and can be built using simple components for less than $500.','inherit','open','open','','1057-revision-15','','','2012-04-25 00:34:29','2012-04-25 00:34:29','',1057,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1057-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1808,13,'2012-05-28 18:11:23','2012-05-28 18:11:23','','Student-Built Archival Tools','This case study focuses on a student who contributed much more than expected to digital projects by creating two archival tools: a web application for an oral history archive and a low-cost robotic scanner for paper-based materials. In a practicum course at Johns Hopkins University, Tom Smith and his peers worked on recording and organizing oral histories. Smith also developed an audio player for the digital archive. This work brought him in contact with the <a href=\"http://magazine.jhu.edu/2011/11/unboxing-history/\" target=\"_blank\">Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project</a> (DPAAP) and led Smith to invent another tool: the <a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\" target=\"_blank\">Gado scanner</a>. This powerful, durable robotic scanner digitizes sensitive archival materials and can be built using simple components for less than $500.','inherit','open','open','','1057-revision-16','','','2012-05-28 18:11:23','2012-05-28 18:11:23','',1057,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1057-revision-16/',0,'revision','',0),(1809,13,'2012-05-28 18:12:09','2012-05-28 18:12:09','[caption id=\"attachment_1258\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The Gado 2 Robotic Scanner scanning photos at the Afro.\"]<a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1258\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 1_gado\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-1_gado.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1259\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The East Baltimore Oral History Player, showing the index entry for a resident whose story Tom Smith helped to document and record.\"]<a href=\"http://eboh.jhu.edu/oralhistoryplayer\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1259\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 2_eboh\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-2_eboh.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"667\" /></a>[/caption]','Student-Built Archival Tools','This case study focuses on a student who contributed much more than expected to digital projects by creating two archival tools: a web application for an oral history archive and a low-cost robotic scanner for paper-based materials. In a practicum course at Johns Hopkins University, Tom Smith and his peers worked on recording and organizing oral histories. Smith also developed an audio player for the digital archive. This work brought him in contact with the <a href=\"http://magazine.jhu.edu/2011/11/unboxing-history/\" target=\"_blank\">Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project</a> (DPAAP) and led Smith to invent another tool: the <a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\" target=\"_blank\">Gado scanner</a>. This powerful, durable robotic scanner digitizes sensitive archival materials and can be built using simple components for less than $500.','inherit','open','open','','1057-revision-17','','','2012-05-28 18:12:09','2012-05-28 18:12:09','',1057,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1057-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0),(1810,13,'2012-05-28 18:04:19','2012-05-28 18:04:19','','Hands-On Research with Rare Books and Ephemera ','This case study features work that two students completed in an English class at Goucher College. The course, The Archeology of Text, offers students an understanding of the social and historical frameworks for the production and consumption of text, beginning with the digital age and moving backwards in time. Students are also trained in bibliographic research skills, which they apply to objects in Goucher’s Special Collections library. These objects then become the subjects of a research paper that serves as the final course project.','inherit','open','open','','1047-revision-27','','','2012-05-28 18:04:19','2012-05-28 18:04:19','',1047,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1047-revision-27/',0,'revision','',0),(1811,13,'2012-03-07 05:09:19','2012-03-07 05:09:19','[caption id=\"attachment_1368\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"386\" caption=\"Image of James A. Bible (c. 1860) from the Ramsey Family Papers (MS 81). Saunders worked on this image for the SETDA. Used by permission of Cleveland Public Library.\"]<a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1368\" title=\"cscc_student work_sample material\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-work_sample-material.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"386\" height=\"640\" /></a>[/caption]','History Lab: Combining Service Learning, Research Methods, and Digital Archives ','This case study features the work of a student who took History Lab, an introductory history and service-learning course at Cleveland State Community College (CSCC). He researched individual items from a local cultural heritage organization that were then digitized, described, and published online in the <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive</a> (SETDA). \r\n\r\nMatthew Saunders\' work ended up in the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive. You can find the whole archive <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>, and the items Saunders contributed <a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1018-revision-19','','','2012-03-07 05:09:19','2012-03-07 05:09:19','',1018,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1018-revision-19/',0,'revision','',0),(1812,13,'2012-04-25 00:34:19','2012-04-25 00:34:19','[caption id=\"attachment_957\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"James (Jimmy) Barnett using a Betterlight Super 8k-HS camera back and custom mount configuration to digitize John Carrère and Thomas Hastings’ “Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church, St. Augustine, Fla.” c. 1889-1890. Photo credit: Joe Kaleita, University of Florida Libraries.\"]<img class=\"size-large wp-image-957\" title=\"uf_student  action photo_barnett 3\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-action-photo_barnett-3-1024x682.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_958\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"John Carrère and Thomas Hastings. “Part Plan of Fourth Floor. Architectural drawings of the Hotel Ponce de Leon, St. Augustine, Florida.” 96”x40”.\"]<a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00089836/00001\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-958\" title=\"Part Plan of Fourth Floor\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-work_image-2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_959\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"An example of the results of Barnett’s work digitizing and preserving a large-scale architectural drawing. John Carrère and Thomas Hastings. “Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church, St. Augustine, Fla.” c. 1889-1890.\"]<a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082657/00001\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-959\" title=\"Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-work_image-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe images above are a small fraction of the materials made available through the project and Jimmy\'s work. The full range can be seen in the <a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/caha/all\" target=\"_blank\">Carrère &amp; Hastings Digital Collection</a>, part of the University of Florida Digital Collections. You can read more at the project blog: <a href=\"http://flaglerdrawings.wordpress.com/\" target=\"_blank\">flaglerdrawings.wordpress.com</a>.','Digitizing Large-Format Architectural Plans','This case study showcases an undergraduate’s work as the lead digital scanner of architectural drawings for the Carrère & Hastings Digital Collection, a collaborative project between the University of Florida (UF) and Flagler College to conserve and digitally preserve the large and fragile drawings. For years the drawings were stored in a basement boiler room and suffered from exposure to high Florida temperatures, humidity, insects, and rodents. The collection is now under the care of a team of faculty, staff, and students from the UF’s Special Collections, Conservation Unit, and Digital Library Center.','inherit','open','open','','946-revision-39','','','2012-04-25 00:34:19','2012-04-25 00:34:19','',946,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/946-revision-39/',0,'revision','',0),(1813,13,'2012-04-25 22:39:26','2012-04-25 22:39:26','','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-13','','','2012-04-25 22:39:26','2012-04-25 22:39:26','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1814,13,'2012-05-28 18:19:56','2012-05-28 18:19:56','','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-14','','','2012-05-28 18:19:56','2012-05-28 18:19:56','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),(1819,19,'2012-02-16 20:50:21','2012-02-16 20:50:21','Since I came to Wesleyan nearly fifteen years ago, a key focus of my job has been outreach to the faculty, and thus the undergraduates, through the curriculum.  To this end, I teach thirty-five to fifty class sessions each academic year in Special Collections &amp; Archives (SC&amp;A).  Disciplines range from Astronomy to Writing, and just about everything in between.\r\n\r\nThough all class sessions have the common goal of raising undergraduate awareness of and interest in the holdings of SC&amp;A, each class presentation is different, based on both the subject of the course and the pedagogical purpose for which the materials will be used.  Some sessions take a classic “dog and pony show” approach, in which I—or sometimes the professor and I—present a group of interesting materials from our collections and talk briefly about each item, how it connects to the course, and/or how it might be used in the students’ research.  In other sessions, students take a more active role by doing an in-class assignment.  One such assignment we often use is the “mystery book exercise” that a history of science faculty member and I developed together.  “Mystery book” is a fun, fast-paced exercise that trains students to evaluate an unfamiliar source quickly and teaches information literacy skills using books or documents connected to the subject of the course.  After spending a few minutes looking at a book they haven’t seen before, students answer ten questions, which range from the (usually) easy identification of the author to more complex considerations of how the mystery book might inform their research.  Still other classes use the visit to SC&amp;A as preparation for an in-depth paper or project that requires, or at least strongly encourages, the use of materials in Special Collections &amp; Archives.  These longer assignments are as varied as the classes, and they include traditional term papers, documentary editing projects, artists’ books, and creative writing based on primary sources, among others.  For the full list of mystery book questions, other assignments, and comments from Wesleyan professors who use Special Collections &amp; Archives in teaching, see the online exhibition, <em><a href=\"http://oldbooks.site.wesleyan.edu/\">Old Books, New Pedagogy: Special Collections and Archives in the Curriculum</a></em>.\r\n\r\nOf course, not all the work I do with undergraduates is teaching them about archives and special collections in class settings.  Often class visits spark students’ use of SC&amp;A for other courses, senior theses or essays, co-curricular activities, or just simple personal interest.  In many of these cases, I work one-on-one with the students to help them identify relevant materials, focus topics, find related books or documents, understand the context – all typical functions of reference and instruction librarians.\r\n\r\nMuch of my recent professional activity has focused on teaching undergraduates using archives and special collections.  I’ve just completed co-editing a volume of case studies on this topic, entitled <em>Past or Portal? Enhancing Undergraduate Learning through Special Collections and Archives</em>.  The book, which is forthcoming from the Association of College and Research Libraries, contains nearly fifty real-life examples of undergraduate curricular use of archives and special collections in a wide variety of institutions.','Vodou Songs - Taraba 1','','inherit','open','open','','1558-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:50:21','2012-02-16 20:50:21','',1558,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1558-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1815,13,'2012-05-28 18:20:36','2012-05-28 18:20:36','In Issue 2 of Archive, we\'ve chosen to explore several eclectic case studies of projects focused around archival research and preservation, undertaken by students at various institutions. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.\r\n\r\nDuis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur.\r\n\r\nExcepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-15','','','2012-05-28 18:20:36','2012-05-28 18:20:36','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1820,19,'2012-10-19 03:27:25','2012-10-19 03:27:25','Since I came to Wesleyan nearly fifteen years ago, a key focus of my job has been outreach to the faculty, and thus the undergraduates, through the curriculum.  To this end, I teach thirty-five to fifty class sessions each academic year in Special Collections &amp; Archives (SC&amp;A).  Disciplines range from Astronomy to Writing, and just about everything in between.\n\nThough all class sessions have the common goal of raising undergraduate awareness of and interest in the holdings of SC&amp;A, each class presentation is different, based on both the subject of the course and the pedagogical purpose for which the materials will be used.  Some sessions take a classic “dog and pony show” approach, in which I—or sometimes the professor and I—present a group of interesting materials from our collections and talk briefly about each item, how it connects to the course, and/or how it might be used in the students’ research.  In other sessions, students take a more active role by doing an in-class assignment.  One such assignment we often use is the “mystery book exercise” that a history of science faculty member and I developed together.  “Mystery book” is a fun, fast-paced exercise that trains students to evaluate an unfamiliar source quickly and teaches information literacy skills using books or documents connected to the subject of the course.  After spending a few minutes looking at a book they haven’t seen before, students answer ten questions, which range from the (usually) easy identification of the author to more complex considerations of how the mystery book might inform their research.  Still other classes use the visit to SC&amp;A as preparation for an in-depth paper or project that requires, or at least strongly encourages, the use of materials in Special Collections &amp; Archives.  These longer assignments are as varied as the classes, and they include traditional term papers, documentary editing projects, artists’ books, and creative writing based on primary sources, among others.  For the full list of mystery book questions, other assignments, and comments from Wesleyan professors who use Special Collections &amp; Archives in teaching, see the online exhibition, <em><a href=\"http://oldbooks.site.wesleyan.edu/\">Old Books, New Pedagogy: Special Collections and Archives in the Curriculum</a></em>.\n\nOf course, not all the work I do with undergraduates is teaching them about archives and special collections in class settings.  Often class visits spark students’ use of SC&amp;A for other courses, senior theses or essays, co-curricular activities, or just simple personal interest.  In many of these cases, I work one-on-one with the students to help them identify relevant materials, focus topics, find related books or documents, understand the context – all typical functions of reference and instruction librarians.\n\nMuch of my recent professional activity has focused on teaching undergraduates using archives and special collections.  I’ve just completed co-editing a volume of case studies on this topic, entitled <em>Past or Portal? Enhancing Undergraduate Learning through Special Collections and Archives</em>.  The book, recently published by the the Association of College and Research Libraries, contains nearly fifty real-life examples of undergraduate curricular use of archives and special collections in a wide variety of institutions.','Undergraduates in the Archives - Taraba 1','','inherit','open','open','','1558-autosave','','','2012-10-19 03:27:25','2012-10-19 03:27:25','',1558,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1558-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1821,19,'2012-10-19 03:24:10','2012-10-19 03:24:10','Because I teach at Penn, am a Contributing Scholar at the Penn Museum, and Director of Native American Projects at the American Philosophical Society (APS), I am in a unique position to provide my students access to a wide variety of archival materials, many of which are linked in surprising ways.  For most of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, Penn was home to some of the greatest anthropologists—Frank Speck, A. Irving Hallowell, Anthony F.C. Wallace and Dell Hymes.  All of these scholars gave their papers to the APS, while Speck and Hallowell also donated artifacts to the Penn Museum.  The collections fit together very nicely, even though the institutions have rarely worked cooperatively.  Students have a plethora of opportunities to connect the two collections in a variety of interesting ways.  I have also directed three large grant projects at the APS to digitize images and audio recordings related to Native American culture.  I am thus intimately familiar with the collection and, now that they are have been digitized, the material is much more accessible to students.\n\nMuch of my work involves outreach to Native American communities, so I am constantly writing grants that focus on returning digital surrogates of archival materials to their community of origin.  In 2005, I started a website entitled <em><a href=\"http://gibagadinamaagoom.info/\">Gibagadinamaagoom: An Ojibwe Digital Archive</a></em> that houses digital materials and is used by Ojibwe high school and tribal college students throughout the state of Minnesota.  Several years later, I started a sister site, entitled <em><a href=\"http://gibagadinamaagoom.info/\">Digital Partnerships with Indian Communities</a></em>, that allows the students to “publish” their work.  When their work is polished enough (this usually entails some substantive editing) it is then made available to Native communities via the <em>Digital Partnerships</em> website.  Both sites are designed with the Drupal content management system and are maintained by the School of Arts and Sciences Computing at Penn.  This provides long-term sustainability.  Because Drupal is so flexible, students can learn how to design digital exhibits on the website that incorporate highlights of the archival materials, thus making them more accessible to Native communities.  This requires training and an outstanding student, many of whom receive grant support from Penn or other sources to work with me on these projects.','Undergraduates in the Archives - Powell 1','Because I teach at Penn, am a Contributing Scholar at the Penn Museum, and Director of Native American Projects at the American Philosophical Society (APS), I am in a unique position to provide my students access to a wide variety of archival materials, many of which are linked in surprising ways.  ','inherit','open','open','','1577-autosave','','','2012-10-19 03:24:10','2012-10-19 03:24:10','',1577,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1577-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1822,19,'2012-02-16 20:58:41','2012-02-16 20:58:41','Because I teach at Penn, am a Contributing Scholar at the Penn Museum, and Director of Native American Projects at the American Philosophical Society (APS), I am in a unique position to provide my students access to a wide variety of archival materials, many of which are linked in surprising ways.  For most of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, Penn was home to some of the greatest anthropologists—Frank Speck, A. Irving Hallowell, Anthony F.C. Wallace and Dell Hymes.  All of these scholars gave their papers to the APS, while Speck and Hallowell also donated artifacts to the Penn Museum.  The collections fit together very nicely, even though the institutions have rarely worked cooperatively.  Students have a plethora of opportunities to connect the two collections in a variety of interesting ways.  I have also directed three large grant projects at the APS to digitize images and audio recordings related to Native American culture.  I am thus intimately familiar with the collection and, now that they are have been digitized, the material is much more accessible to students.\r\n\r\nMuch of my work involves outreach to Native American communities, so I am constantly writing grants that focus on returning digital surrogates of archival materials to their community of origin.  In 2005, I started a website entitled <em><a href=\"http://gibagadinamaagoom.info/\">Gibagadinamaagoom: An Ojibwe Digital Archive</a></em> that houses digital materials and is used by Ojibwe high school and tribal college students throughout the state of Minnesota.  Several years later, I started a sister site, entitled <em><a href=\"http://gibagadinamaagoom.info/\">Digital Partnerships with Indian Communities</a></em>, that allows the students to “publish” their work.  When their work is polished enough (this usually entails some substantive editing) it is then made available to Native communities via the <em>Digital Partnerships</em> website.  Both sites are designed with the Drupal content management system and are maintained by the School of Arts and Sciences Computing at Penn.  This provides long-term sustainability.  Because Drupal is so flexible, students can learn how to design digital exhibits on the website that incorporate highlights of the archival materials, thus making them more accessible to Native communities.  This requires training and an outstanding student, many of whom receive grant support from Penn or other sources to work with me on these projects.','Vodou Songs - Powell 1','','inherit','open','open','','1577-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:58:41','2012-02-16 20:58:41','',1577,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1577-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1823,19,'2012-02-18 14:19:36','2012-02-18 14:19:36','I have only recently begun experimenting with using archival materials in the classroom, so I am still learning how to achieve the best results.  Initially, I began by limiting student involvement to 2-3 weeks of the semester.  I found that, practically, the students did much better when they worked in groups, in part because of the potential that some students are more engaged than others, and in part because the students enjoyed being part of a team.  Penn, of course, is home to the Wharton School of Business and I often have a few Wharton students in class.  These students helpfully pointed out that many Wharton classes are designed such that students are assigned to a team in order to better prepare them for the private sector.  This also allows the students to divide up the work according to the skill sets of each individual student.  I have found the team oriented approach—with all of the teams working together as one larger team devoted to producing a quality product for Native American clients—to work very well in the highly professionalized culture of Penn (this culture is double edged, for it also makes it difficult to attract pre-professional students to courses on Native American studies, which is not a program or a department at Penn).\r\n\r\nAs I became more comfortable and was able to prepare more quickly for the semester, I found that I could make more materials available to the students.  I try to balance the students’ exposure to the originals by providing them with digital surrogates and also having them visit the Penn Museum and the APS.  This can prove a challenge since the APS is not set up for student visits and, therefore, it is only because of my position as Director of Native American projects that I am able to arrange a classroom to view original documents.  The Penn Museum, on the other hand, actively encourages professors to bring their classes and provides access to the storage facilities.  This planning paid off, however, when, to my surprise, the students asked to have more time to work on their projects.  Last semester, one suggested that the entire semester should be devoted to creating the exhibits for the class project.  We talked about this together and the students also felt their work with archival materials would be more meaningful if they learned more about the historical and cultural background from which the materials emerged.  The best students had done this research on their own, but I realized that the early part of the course could be structured to teach the students a great deal more about the cultural context of the archival materials and that this would result in them being able to understand the materials better and to do a better job of .  So this coming semester, that is what I am going to try to accomplish.  The APS recently acquired more than 500 hours of audio recordings related to Ojibwe culture in northern Canada (the acquisition was an outcome of the Pimachiowin Aki collaboration).  The first five weeks of the class will be devoted to teaching the students the religious background necessary to understand the Ojibwe ceremonies being discussed, the ethics of working with religious materials in terms of what can or cannot be placed on the web, and basic archival skills so that the students can create a database and tags to make this new material more accessible to scholars and the Ojibwe communities where the material originated.  All of the students’ work will be donated to those communities and the database will be housed at the APS.','Vodou Songs - Powell 5','','inherit','open','open','','1589-revision-3','','','2012-02-18 14:19:36','2012-02-18 14:19:36','',1589,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1589-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1824,19,'2012-06-22 05:48:24','2012-06-22 05:48:24','I have only recently begun experimenting with using archival materials in the classroom, so I am still learning how to achieve the best results.  Initially, I began by limiting student involvement to 2-3 weeks of the semester.  I found that, practically, the students did much better when they worked in groups, in part because of the potential that some students are more engaged than others, and in part because the students enjoyed being part of a team.  Penn, of course, is home to the Wharton School of Business and I often have a few Wharton students in class.  These students helpfully pointed out that many Wharton classes are designed such that students are assigned to a team in order to better prepare them for the private sector.  This also allows the students to divide up the work according to the skill sets of each individual student.  I have found the team oriented approach—with all of the teams working together as one larger team devoted to producing a quality product for Native American clients—to work very well in the highly professionalized culture of Penn (this culture is double edged, for it also makes it difficult to attract pre-professional students to courses on Native American studies, which is not a program or a department at Penn).\r\n\r\nAs I became more comfortable and was able to prepare more quickly for the semester, I found that I could make more materials available to the students.  I try to balance the students’ exposure to the originals by providing them with digital surrogates and also having them visit the Penn Museum and the APS.  This can prove a challenge since the APS is not set up for student visits and, therefore, it is only because of my position as Director of Native American projects that I am able to arrange a classroom to view original documents.  The Penn Museum, on the other hand, actively encourages professors to bring their classes and provides access to the storage facilities.  This planning paid off, however, when, to my surprise, the students asked to have more time to work on their projects.  Last semester, one suggested that the entire semester should be devoted to creating the exhibits for the class project.  We talked about this together and the students also felt their work with archival materials would be more meaningful if they learned more about the historical and cultural background from which the materials emerged.  The best students had done this research on their own, but I realized that the early part of the course could be structured to teach the students a great deal more about the cultural context of the archival materials and that this would result in them being able to understand the materials better and to do a better job of .  So this coming semester, that is what I am going to try to accomplish.  The APS recently acquired more than 500 hours of audio recordings related to Ojibwe culture in northern Canada (the acquisition was an outcome of the Pimachiowin Aki collaboration).  The first five weeks of the class will be devoted to teaching the students the religious background necessary to understand the Ojibwe ceremonies being discussed, the ethics of working with religious materials in terms of what can or cannot be placed on the web, and basic archival skills so that the students can create a database and tags to make this new material more accessible to scholars and the Ojibwe communities where the material originated.  All of the students’ work will be donated to those communities and the database will be housed at the APS.','Vodou Songs - Powell 5','','inherit','open','open','','1589-revision-4','','','2012-06-22 05:48:24','2012-06-22 05:48:24','',1589,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1589-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1828,19,'2012-02-09 04:59:26','2012-02-09 04:59:26','<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span>\r\n\r\nThe encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.\r\n\r\nHow do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.\r\n\r\nhttp://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/\r\n\r\nI want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-31','','','2012-02-09 04:59:26','2012-02-09 04:59:26','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-31/',0,'revision','',0),(1855,19,'2012-06-27 02:18:21','2012-06-27 02:18:21','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision-5','','','2012-06-27 02:18:21','2012-06-27 02:18:21','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(1835,19,'2011-05-01 21:40:58','2011-05-01 21:40:58','Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.\r\n\r\nThe lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-27','','','2011-05-01 21:40:58','2011-05-01 21:40:58','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-27/',0,'revision','',0),(1836,19,'2012-06-23 02:15:34','2012-06-23 02:15:34','<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span>\r\n\r\nThe encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.\r\n\r\nHow do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.\r\n\r\nhttp://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/\r\n\r\nI want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-32','','','2012-06-23 02:15:34','2012-06-23 02:15:34','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-32/',0,'revision','',0),(1837,19,'2012-06-23 03:32:27','2012-06-23 03:32:27','Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.\r\n\r\nThe lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-28','','','2012-06-23 03:32:27','2012-06-23 03:32:27','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-28/',0,'revision','',0),(1854,19,'2012-06-27 02:08:51','2012-06-27 02:08:51','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision-4','','','2012-06-27 02:08:51','2012-06-27 02:08:51','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1839,19,'2012-06-23 03:34:02','2012-06-23 03:34:02','Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.\r\n\r\nThe lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-29','','','2012-06-23 03:34:02','2012-06-23 03:34:02','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-29/',0,'revision','',0),(1840,19,'2012-06-23 03:33:51','2012-06-23 03:33:51','<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span>\r\n\r\nThe encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.\r\n\r\nHow do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.\r\n\r\nhttp://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/\r\n\r\nI want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-33','','','2012-06-23 03:33:51','2012-06-23 03:33:51','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-33/',0,'revision','',0),(1853,19,'2012-06-27 02:08:31','2012-06-27 02:08:31','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision-3','','','2012-06-27 02:08:31','2012-06-27 02:08:31','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1858,19,'2012-05-28 18:25:01','2012-05-28 18:25:01','','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-16','','','2012-05-28 18:25:01','2012-05-28 18:25:01','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-16/',0,'revision','',0),(1857,19,'2012-06-27 02:18:35','2012-06-27 02:18:35','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision-6','','','2012-06-27 02:18:35','2012-06-27 02:18:35','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(3364,19,'2012-10-29 17:25:25','2012-10-29 17:25:25','I have only recently begun experimenting with using archival materials in the classroom, so I am still learning how to achieve the best results.  Initially, I began by limiting student involvement to 2-3 weeks of the semester.  I found that, practically, the students did much better when they worked in groups, in part because of the potential that some students are more engaged than others, and in part because the students enjoyed being part of a team.  Penn, of course, is home to the Wharton School of Business and I often have a few Wharton students in class.  These students helpfully pointed out that many Wharton classes are designed such that students are assigned to a team in order to better prepare them for the private sector.  This also allows the students to divide up the work according to the skill sets of each individual student.  I have found the team oriented approach—with all of the teams working together as one larger team devoted to producing a quality product for Native American clients—to work very well in the highly professionalized culture of Penn (this culture is double edged, for it also makes it difficult to attract pre-professional students to courses on Native American studies, which is not a program or a department at Penn).\r\n\r\nAs I became more comfortable and was able to prepare more quickly for the semester, I found that I could make more materials available to the students.  I try to balance the students’ exposure to the originals by providing them with digital surrogates and also having them visit the Penn Museum and the APS.  This can prove a challenge since the APS is not set up for student visits and, therefore, it is only because of my position as Director of Native American projects that I am able to arrange a classroom to view original documents.  The Penn Museum, on the other hand, actively encourages professors to bring their classes and provides access to the storage facilities.  This planning paid off, however, when, to my surprise, the students asked to have more time to work on their projects.  Last semester, one suggested that the entire semester should be devoted to creating the exhibits for the class project.  We talked about this together and the students also felt their work with archival materials would be more meaningful if they learned more about the historical and cultural background from which the materials emerged.  The best students had done this research on their own, but I realized that the early part of the course could be structured to teach the students a great deal more about the cultural context of the archival materials and that this would result in them being able to understand the materials better and to do a better job of .  So this coming semester, that is what I am going to try to accomplish.  The APS recently acquired more than 500 hours of audio recordings related to Ojibwe culture in northern Canada (the acquisition was an outcome of the Pimachiowin Aki collaboration).  The first five weeks of the class will be devoted to teaching the students the religious background necessary to understand the Ojibwe ceremonies being discussed, the ethics of working with religious materials in terms of what can or cannot be placed on the web, and basic archival skills so that the students can create a database and tags to make this new material more accessible to scholars and the Ojibwe communities where the material originated.  All of the students’ work will be donated to those communities and the database will be housed at the APS.','Undergraduates in the Archives - Powell 5','I have only recently begun experimenting with using archival materials in the classroom, so I am still learning how to achieve the best results.  Initially, I began by limiting student involvement to 2-3 weeks of the semester.  I found that, practically, the students did much better when they worked in groups, in part because of the potential that some students are more engaged than others, and in part because the students enjoyed being part of a team.','inherit','open','open','','1589-revision-28','','','2012-10-29 17:25:25','2012-10-29 17:25:25','',1589,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1589-revision-28/',0,'revision','',0),(1852,19,'2012-06-27 02:08:26','2012-06-27 02:08:26','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision-2','','','2012-06-27 02:08:26','2012-06-27 02:08:26','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1851,19,'2012-06-27 02:08:22','2012-06-27 02:08:22','','Notes and Queries','','inherit','open','open','','1850-revision','','','2012-06-27 02:08:22','2012-06-27 02:08:22','',1850,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1850-revision/',0,'revision','',0),(1862,19,'2012-02-11 20:53:17','2012-02-11 20:53:17','[caption id=\"attachment_1185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"640\" caption=\"Elizabeth Dowdle (in striped shirt) with Capitoline Amazon, marble (Roman copy after Kresilas, Greek, active ca. 450 BC - 420 BC).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1185 \" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/walters_student-action-photo_dowdle.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"426\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe the sorts of work you did in developing your Google Earth presentation on this object. (You might consider both the unique forms of research involved and modes/methods of interpretation.)</strong>\r\n\r\nMy research focused on discovering the provenance of the Walters’ Capitoline Amazon, a Roman copy of a Greek bronze sculpture. Though the beautiful marble immediately caught my attention, I was surprised to find how little the museum actually knew about the object’s history. In order to unravel the mystery surrounding the sculpture, I looked for similar examples of sculpture in other museum collections and, consulting the records that came with them, began to piece together a tentative history of this ancient artwork.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What did you learn from this project that distinguished it from other academic courses?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project was unique in that I was provided with an ending point in the Walters gallery, but lacked a starting point for my research. This issue forced me to think outside the box and look for new ways to come up with the information I needed to draw out this object’s provenance. This called for more than an average trip to the library; I had to consult other institutions with similar sculptures in their collections and find possible answers to my questions based on the records they had on their pieces. It was a unique challenge, but this project truly taught me that when there is a will, there is a way.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What was it like to be creating a final project that would be presented to the public?</strong>\r\n\r\nIt was both exciting and inspiring to create a project that would be presented to the public. Knowing that my work would be recognized outside the classroom was an inspiration to design a product that would make a difference not only for the Walters, but also for any interested party looking for information about the Capitoline Amazon. I was driven to deliver a professional, museum quality presentation that the Walters would be proud to add to their website.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What did you learn from working in a professional museum and in conjunction with its staff?</strong>\r\n\r\nIt is always a privilege to work with professionals in the field you aspire to be a part of, especially when you get to do so in the museum itself. Working with the staff at the Walters gave me insight into the everyday activities of registrars, curators and collections managers and the challenges they face when caring for their collections and working to further their institutions’ missions. Especially in collections containing antiquities, it is not uncommon to come across objects with questionable histories. My time at the Walters taught me that it is of the utmost importance to authenticate the contents of your collection through dissemination of knowledge about their unique histories, despite the challenges this task might propose.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What did this course/project and the opportunity to work with museum objects and their archival records mean to your education? your future plans? your general interests?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course and the project I produced solidified my desire to pursue a career in museums. The opportunity to work with museum objects and their records has inspired me to continue my education in order that I too can work in an institution dedicated to the preservation of culture for future generations. I graduated from Johns Hopkins in May, 2011, with a degree in the History of Science, Medicine and Technology and am now pursuing a Masters degree in Museum Studies at George Washington University, with a focus in museum administration and classical studies.','Elizabeth Dowdle - Commentary','My research focused on discovering the provenance of the Walters’ Capitoline Amazon, a Roman copy of a Greek bronze sculpture. Though the beautiful marble immediately caught my attention, I was surprised to find how little the museum actually knew about the object’s history. In order to unravel the mystery surrounding the sculpture, I looked for similar examples of sculpture in other museum collections and, consulting the records that came with them, began to piece together a tentative history of this ancient artwork.','inherit','open','open','','1152-revision-14','','','2012-02-11 20:53:17','2012-02-11 20:53:17','',1152,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1152-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),(1863,19,'2012-02-11 20:41:25','2012-02-11 20:41:25','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1220\" title=\"rodini\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/rodini.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&amp;S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.\r\n\r\nIn our syllabus for this course, Ben Tilghman and I asked: Why bother with such an exercise? Our answer: “To share what we are learning with the public. This is a fundamental task of museums . . . in this course we extended that mission to the undergraduate classroom.” Universities suffer from their remove from the broader community, and humanistic disciplines, without clear “practical” applications, are particularly at risk from this sort of isolation and perceived irrelevance. On the other hand, archives, museums, and other collections with a public face are places where humanistic research can be made available, accessible, and meaningful.\r\n\r\nAlthough historians are familiar with the sub-field of public history, other disciplines have not developed the potential for outreach in such a direct, institutionalized way. It is hard to imagine the awarding of a degree in, say, public art history. But in this class our students were taking on that very role, the role of curators presenting research through a lively interactive tool with broad dissemination.\r\n\r\nIn developing their object itineraries for the Walters and Google Earth, students had to consider both the historical narrative they were tracing and the matter of presenting it to the public. What information would be accessible? How could they both engage and challenge their audience? How would they balance the nuanced elements of their story with the broader theoretical issues at stake in the project? What is lost in the task of producing highly condensed text—and what might be gained?\r\n\r\nIn all of our museum-based practicum courses, we face the challenge of fitting student work into an established institutional frame. Classrooms are messy places where ideas are tested and debated. Despite our best efforts, the many young voices we work with over the semester may not easily gel into the perfect, marketable whole that modern museums require. Our students carefully crafted their texts, which were then polished to a sheen by Walters professionals; they constructed imaginative itineraries that we honed to fit a simpler, more streamlined model.\r\n\r\nIf it seems like the nature of university research (independent, serendipitous, evolving) cannot quite square with museum exhibitions (corporate, formal, fixed), there is nevertheless much to be gained from encouraging their intersection—for students, audiences, and collections, and for universities as well. University humanities made more public are also more relevant, appreciated, and valued.','Elizabeth Rodini - Commentary','“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.','inherit','open','open','','1132-revision-6','','','2012-02-11 20:41:25','2012-02-11 20:41:25','',1132,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1132-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(1864,19,'2012-03-07 06:03:08','2012-03-07 06:03:08','Art on the Move was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the <a href=\"http://krieger.jhu.edu/museums/\">Program in Museums and Society</a> at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009. Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project. The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.\r\n\r\n<strong>Except From Course Syllabus</strong>\r\n\r\nThe goals of this class can be broken down into several categories:\r\n<ul>\r\n	<li>investigating the various ways/means/motives for the circulation of objects, and considering how meaning is shaped by context, from antiquity to the present and including the museum itself;</li>\r\n	<li>conducting in-depth, independent research on objects in the Walters’ collection;</li>\r\n	<li>experimenting with different styles of writing and narration;</li>\r\n	<li>learning about different areas of museum practice, including curation, conservation, registration, and education;</li>\r\n	<li>applying these experiences to the production of interpretative tools for public audiences of the Walters, in the form of Google Earth itineraries.</li>\r\n</ul>\r\nEach student will choose two* objects from the Walters’ collection to research, focusing on the “trajectory” of the objects and their shifting significance in different contexts. Research will involve studying the objects and object files at the museum as well as work in the Hopkins library and on-line. That work will be analyzed, interpreted, and gathered into a Google Earth Map “itinerary” for each object. Why? To share what we are learning with the public. This is a fundamental task of museums . . . in this course we extended that mission to the undergraduate classroom.\r\n\r\n(*The seven students worked on two objects each; a selection of these was made for the final presentation on the Walters website.)','Walters - Project Description/Syllabus','','inherit','open','open','','1130-revision-12','','','2012-03-07 06:03:08','2012-03-07 06:03:08','',1130,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1130-revision-12/',0,'revision','',0),(1865,19,'2012-02-11 20:57:56','2012-02-11 20:57:56','[caption id=\"attachment_1189\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"640\" caption=\"Dakota DeVos (pointing at books) with Antiphonary for Abbess of Sainte-Marie of Beaupré, ink on parchment (Flemish, 1290).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1189\" title=\"walters_student action photo_devos\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/walters_student-action-photo_devos.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"426\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe the sorts of work you did in developing your Google Earth presentation on this object. (You might consider both the unique forms of research involved and modes/methods of interpretation.)</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project required a diverse approach to research, including reading topical books and contemporary articles, conducting interviews with Walters conservators and curators, and making comparisons with similar objects from the period or in the artists’ oeuvres. However, an exhaustive physical examination of the objects themselves was the starting and end point for piecing together the objects’ paths of alteration, ownership, and usage. Our final product was meant to offer a new way for viewers to connect with an object and so both our maps and audio clips reinforce our findings by continually asking the viewer to look closely at the evidence right in front of them.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What did you learn from this project that distinguished it from other academic courses?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course offered three unique qualities. First, our research was meant for publication for museum visitors rather than exclusively for our professors. Secondly, we were able to do hands-on research with many of the Walters’ most revered objects with curators and conservators guiding us in our examinations. Finally, this course encouraged an object-centric view of history, which was antithetical, conceptually, to the art history courses I had taken until that point.\r\n\r\nAs an art history major, I was accustomed to viewing specific art historical objects as close studies of broader trends that characterized the periods in which they were made. However, our assignment for Material Migrations concerned itself not only with a study of the object’s creation and its use in its own time, but also its changing use throughout its history. I came away from the course with a greater appreciation for the power of contextualization – art objects rarely remain static relics of a bygone era, but rather continue to have vibrant lives and changing effects on their successive owners and audiences, not the least of which is in their position as a tool for learning in the museum.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What was it like to be creating a final project that would be presented to the public?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe project was intended to engage as broad a scope of museum visitors as possible - including youths and viewers who might have no background on the object - while still interesting our academic peers. Writing listener-friendly scripts for our audio recording was one of the greatest challenges of this project because part of what made these objects so fascinating was the very unwieldiness of their provenances. I decided on central themes for both my objects and ultimately cut out much of my research in order to bring focus to their otherwise tortuous histories. Considerations of display also affected the content of the map and audio. For example, while some of the pages of the illuminated manuscript I researched had beautiful drolleries in their margins, it was impractical to cite specific instances because the fragile manuscript could only be on display to one spread, which might not have any drolleries.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What did you learn from working in a professional museum and in conjunction with its staff?</strong>\r\n\r\nI chose one of my objects, the Beaupre Antiphonary, specifically because I had the opportunity to work with the Walters’ rare books curators Drs. Ben Tilghman and William Noel. Collaborating with two of the top scholars in the field on an object that they knew intimately remains one of the brightest moments of my undergraduate career.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What did this course/project and the opportunity to work with museum objects and their archival records mean to your education? your future plans? your general interests?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course reinforced my ambition to work in the field of museums because I found the work rewarding and academically invigorating. It was meaningful and exhilarating to produce work for a class that would help enrich the presentation of the Walters’ holdings.','Dakota Devos - Commentary','This project required a diverse approach to research, including reading topical books and contemporary articles, conducting interviews with Walters conservators and curators, and making comparisons with similar objects from the period or in the artists’ oeuvres. However, an exhaustive physical examination of the objects themselves was the starting and end point for piecing together the objects’ paths of alteration, ownership, and usage. Our final product was meant to offer a new way for viewers to connect with an object and so both our maps and audio clips reinforce our findings by continually asking the viewer to look closely at the evidence right in front of them.','inherit','open','open','','1128-revision-10','','','2012-02-11 20:57:56','2012-02-11 20:57:56','',1128,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1128-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1866,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','<div id=\"map3d_dowdle\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Amazon Dowdle','','inherit','open','open','','1209-revision-14','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1209,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1209-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),(1867,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','<div id=\"map3d_tkacs\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Romances Casket Tkacs','','inherit','open','open','','1205-revision-16','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1205,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1205-revision-16/',0,'revision','',0),(1868,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','<div id=\"map3d_devos\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','inherit','open','open','','1200-revision-17','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1200,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1200-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0),(1869,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','[caption id=\"attachment_1185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"640\" caption=\"Elizabeth Dowdle (in striped shirt) with Capitoline Amazon, marble (Roman copy after Kresilas, Greek, active ca. 450 BC - 420 BC).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1185 \" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/walters_student-action-photo_dowdle.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"426\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe the sorts of work you did in developing your Google Earth presentation on this object. (You might consider both the unique forms of research involved and modes/methods of interpretation.)</strong>\r\n\r\nMy research focused on discovering the provenance of the Walters’ Capitoline Amazon, a Roman copy of a Greek bronze sculpture. Though the beautiful marble immediately caught my attention, I was surprised to find how little the museum actually knew about the object’s history. In order to unravel the mystery surrounding the sculpture, I looked for similar examples of sculpture in other museum collections and, consulting the records that came with them, began to piece together a tentative history of this ancient artwork.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What did you learn from this project that distinguished it from other academic courses?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project was unique in that I was provided with an ending point in the Walters gallery, but lacked a starting point for my research. This issue forced me to think outside the box and look for new ways to come up with the information I needed to draw out this object’s provenance. This called for more than an average trip to the library; I had to consult other institutions with similar sculptures in their collections and find possible answers to my questions based on the records they had on their pieces. It was a unique challenge, but this project truly taught me that when there is a will, there is a way.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What was it like to be creating a final project that would be presented to the public?</strong>\r\n\r\nIt was both exciting and inspiring to create a project that would be presented to the public. Knowing that my work would be recognized outside the classroom was an inspiration to design a product that would make a difference not only for the Walters, but also for any interested party looking for information about the Capitoline Amazon. I was driven to deliver a professional, museum quality presentation that the Walters would be proud to add to their website.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What did you learn from working in a professional museum and in conjunction with its staff?</strong>\r\n\r\nIt is always a privilege to work with professionals in the field you aspire to be a part of, especially when you get to do so in the museum itself. Working with the staff at the Walters gave me insight into the everyday activities of registrars, curators and collections managers and the challenges they face when caring for their collections and working to further their institutions’ missions. Especially in collections containing antiquities, it is not uncommon to come across objects with questionable histories. My time at the Walters taught me that it is of the utmost importance to authenticate the contents of your collection through dissemination of knowledge about their unique histories, despite the challenges this task might propose.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What did this course/project and the opportunity to work with museum objects and their archival records mean to your education? your future plans? your general interests?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course and the project I produced solidified my desire to pursue a career in museums. The opportunity to work with museum objects and their records has inspired me to continue my education in order that I too can work in an institution dedicated to the preservation of culture for future generations. I graduated from Johns Hopkins in May, 2011, with a degree in the History of Science, Medicine and Technology and am now pursuing a Masters degree in Museum Studies at George Washington University, with a focus in museum administration and classical studies.','Elizabeth Dowdle - Commentary','My research focused on discovering the provenance of the Walters’ Capitoline Amazon, a Roman copy of a Greek bronze sculpture. Though the beautiful marble immediately caught my attention, I was surprised to find how little the museum actually knew about the object’s history. In order to unravel the mystery surrounding the sculpture, I looked for similar examples of sculpture in other museum collections and, consulting the records that came with them, began to piece together a tentative history of this ancient artwork.','inherit','open','open','','1152-revision-15','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1152,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1152-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1870,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1220\" title=\"rodini\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/rodini.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&amp;S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.\r\n\r\nIn our syllabus for this course, Ben Tilghman and I asked: Why bother with such an exercise? Our answer: “To share what we are learning with the public. This is a fundamental task of museums . . . in this course we extended that mission to the undergraduate classroom.” Universities suffer from their remove from the broader community, and humanistic disciplines, without clear “practical” applications, are particularly at risk from this sort of isolation and perceived irrelevance. On the other hand, archives, museums, and other collections with a public face are places where humanistic research can be made available, accessible, and meaningful.\r\n\r\nAlthough historians are familiar with the sub-field of public history, other disciplines have not developed the potential for outreach in such a direct, institutionalized way. It is hard to imagine the awarding of a degree in, say, public art history. But in this class our students were taking on that very role, the role of curators presenting research through a lively interactive tool with broad dissemination.\r\n\r\nIn developing their object itineraries for the Walters and Google Earth, students had to consider both the historical narrative they were tracing and the matter of presenting it to the public. What information would be accessible? How could they both engage and challenge their audience? How would they balance the nuanced elements of their story with the broader theoretical issues at stake in the project? What is lost in the task of producing highly condensed text—and what might be gained?\r\n\r\nIn all of our museum-based practicum courses, we face the challenge of fitting student work into an established institutional frame. Classrooms are messy places where ideas are tested and debated. Despite our best efforts, the many young voices we work with over the semester may not easily gel into the perfect, marketable whole that modern museums require. Our students carefully crafted their texts, which were then polished to a sheen by Walters professionals; they constructed imaginative itineraries that we honed to fit a simpler, more streamlined model.\r\n\r\nIf it seems like the nature of university research (independent, serendipitous, evolving) cannot quite square with museum exhibitions (corporate, formal, fixed), there is nevertheless much to be gained from encouraging their intersection—for students, audiences, and collections, and for universities as well. University humanities made more public are also more relevant, appreciated, and valued.','Elizabeth Rodini - Commentary','“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.','inherit','open','open','','1132-revision-7','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1132,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1132-revision-7/',0,'revision','',0),(1871,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','Art on the Move was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the <a href=\"http://krieger.jhu.edu/museums/\">Program in Museums and Society</a> at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009. Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project. The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.\r\n\r\n<strong>Except From Course Syllabus</strong>\r\n\r\nThe goals of this class can be broken down into several categories:\r\n<ul>\r\n	<li>investigating the various ways/means/motives for the circulation of objects, and considering how meaning is shaped by context, from antiquity to the present and including the museum itself;</li>\r\n	<li>conducting in-depth, independent research on objects in the Walters’ collection;</li>\r\n	<li>experimenting with different styles of writing and narration;</li>\r\n	<li>learning about different areas of museum practice, including curation, conservation, registration, and education;</li>\r\n	<li>applying these experiences to the production of interpretative tools for public audiences of the Walters, in the form of Google Earth itineraries.</li>\r\n</ul>\r\nEach student will choose two* objects from the Walters’ collection to research, focusing on the “trajectory” of the objects and their shifting significance in different contexts. Research will involve studying the objects and object files at the museum as well as work in the Hopkins library and on-line. That work will be analyzed, interpreted, and gathered into a Google Earth Map “itinerary” for each object. Why? To share what we are learning with the public. This is a fundamental task of museums . . . in this course we extended that mission to the undergraduate classroom.\r\n\r\n(*The seven students worked on two objects each; a selection of these was made for the final presentation on the Walters website.)','Walters - Project Description/Syllabus','','inherit','open','open','','1130-revision-13','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1130,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1130-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1872,19,'2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','[caption id=\"attachment_1189\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"640\" caption=\"Dakota DeVos (pointing at books) with Antiphonary for Abbess of Sainte-Marie of Beaupré, ink on parchment (Flemish, 1290).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1189\" title=\"walters_student action photo_devos\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/walters_student-action-photo_devos.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"426\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe the sorts of work you did in developing your Google Earth presentation on this object. (You might consider both the unique forms of research involved and modes/methods of interpretation.)</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project required a diverse approach to research, including reading topical books and contemporary articles, conducting interviews with Walters conservators and curators, and making comparisons with similar objects from the period or in the artists’ oeuvres. However, an exhaustive physical examination of the objects themselves was the starting and end point for piecing together the objects’ paths of alteration, ownership, and usage. Our final product was meant to offer a new way for viewers to connect with an object and so both our maps and audio clips reinforce our findings by continually asking the viewer to look closely at the evidence right in front of them.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What did you learn from this project that distinguished it from other academic courses?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course offered three unique qualities. First, our research was meant for publication for museum visitors rather than exclusively for our professors. Secondly, we were able to do hands-on research with many of the Walters’ most revered objects with curators and conservators guiding us in our examinations. Finally, this course encouraged an object-centric view of history, which was antithetical, conceptually, to the art history courses I had taken until that point.\r\n\r\nAs an art history major, I was accustomed to viewing specific art historical objects as close studies of broader trends that characterized the periods in which they were made. However, our assignment for Material Migrations concerned itself not only with a study of the object’s creation and its use in its own time, but also its changing use throughout its history. I came away from the course with a greater appreciation for the power of contextualization – art objects rarely remain static relics of a bygone era, but rather continue to have vibrant lives and changing effects on their successive owners and audiences, not the least of which is in their position as a tool for learning in the museum.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What was it like to be creating a final project that would be presented to the public?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe project was intended to engage as broad a scope of museum visitors as possible - including youths and viewers who might have no background on the object - while still interesting our academic peers. Writing listener-friendly scripts for our audio recording was one of the greatest challenges of this project because part of what made these objects so fascinating was the very unwieldiness of their provenances. I decided on central themes for both my objects and ultimately cut out much of my research in order to bring focus to their otherwise tortuous histories. Considerations of display also affected the content of the map and audio. For example, while some of the pages of the illuminated manuscript I researched had beautiful drolleries in their margins, it was impractical to cite specific instances because the fragile manuscript could only be on display to one spread, which might not have any drolleries.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What did you learn from working in a professional museum and in conjunction with its staff?</strong>\r\n\r\nI chose one of my objects, the Beaupre Antiphonary, specifically because I had the opportunity to work with the Walters’ rare books curators Drs. Ben Tilghman and William Noel. Collaborating with two of the top scholars in the field on an object that they knew intimately remains one of the brightest moments of my undergraduate career.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What did this course/project and the opportunity to work with museum objects and their archival records mean to your education? your future plans? your general interests?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis course reinforced my ambition to work in the field of museums because I found the work rewarding and academically invigorating. It was meaningful and exhilarating to produce work for a class that would help enrich the presentation of the Walters’ holdings.','Dakota Devos - Commentary','This project required a diverse approach to research, including reading topical books and contemporary articles, conducting interviews with Walters conservators and curators, and making comparisons with similar objects from the period or in the artists’ oeuvres. However, an exhaustive physical examination of the objects themselves was the starting and end point for piecing together the objects’ paths of alteration, ownership, and usage. Our final product was meant to offer a new way for viewers to connect with an object and so both our maps and audio clips reinforce our findings by continually asking the viewer to look closely at the evidence right in front of them.','inherit','open','open','','1128-revision-11','','','2012-06-27 02:37:46','2012-06-27 02:37:46','',1128,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1128-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(2517,19,'2012-09-25 04:26:10','2012-09-25 04:26:10','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1973\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon1.png\" alt=\"Amazon Dowdle\" title=\"amazon\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1973\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon Dowdle','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-9','','','2012-09-25 04:26:10','2012-09-25 04:26:10','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(2518,19,'2012-09-25 04:22:01','2012-09-25 04:22:01','<div id=\"map3d_dowdle\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Amazon Dowdle Live','','inherit','open','open','','1209-revision-17','','','2012-09-25 04:22:01','2012-09-25 04:22:01','',1209,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1209-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0),(1876,19,'2012-05-28 18:12:03','2012-05-28 18:12:03','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','The final project for students enrolled in the course Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations, offered at the Walters Art Museum through Johns Hopkins University, was to trace the provenance of museum objects and describe their historical significance through Google Earth tours. This case study features the work of three students. Their tours, as well as those of several others, have been published by the Walters Art Museum as part of the online exhibit <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-49','','','2012-05-28 18:12:03','2012-05-28 18:12:03','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-49/',0,'revision','',0),(1877,19,'2012-02-12 01:41:00','2012-02-12 01:41:00','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-9','','','2012-02-12 01:41:00','2012-02-12 01:41:00','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(2519,19,'2012-09-25 04:27:18','2012-09-25 04:27:18','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1973\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon1.png\" alt=\"Amazon Dowdle\" title=\"amazon\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1973\" /></a>','Walters - Amazon Dowdle','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-10','','','2012-09-25 04:27:18','2012-09-25 04:27:18','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1879,19,'2012-06-27 00:27:39','2012-06-27 00:27:39','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-30','','','2012-06-27 00:27:39','2012-06-27 00:27:39','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-30/',0,'revision','',0),(1880,19,'2012-06-27 00:28:05','2012-06-27 00:28:05','<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span>\r\n\r\nThe encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.\r\n\r\nHow do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.\r\n\r\nhttp://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/\r\n\r\nI want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-34','','','2012-06-27 00:28:05','2012-06-27 00:28:05','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-34/',0,'revision','',0),(1881,19,'2012-04-27 19:56:44','2012-04-27 19:56:44','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-33','','','2012-04-27 19:56:44','2012-04-27 19:56:44','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1500-revision-33/',0,'revision','',0),(1883,19,'2012-06-27 03:06:38','2012-06-27 03:06:38','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-31','','','2012-06-27 03:06:38','2012-06-27 03:06:38','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-31/',0,'revision','',0),(1884,19,'2012-07-02 18:58:32','2012-07-02 18:58:32','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-32','','','2012-07-02 18:58:32','2012-07-02 18:58:32','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-32/',0,'revision','',0),(1885,19,'2012-07-02 19:01:41','2012-07-02 19:01:41','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-33','','','2012-07-02 19:01:41','2012-07-02 19:01:41','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-33/',0,'revision','',0),(1886,19,'2012-04-27 20:41:03','2012-04-27 20:41:03','<iframe src=\"http://player.vimeo.com/video/40877170?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"480\"></iframe>','The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln','','inherit','open','open','','1752-revision-7','','','2012-04-27 20:41:03','2012-04-27 20:41:03','',1752,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1752-revision-7/',0,'revision','',0),(1887,19,'2012-06-27 03:06:44','2012-06-27 03:06:44','<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span>\r\n\r\nThe encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.\r\n\r\nHow do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.\r\n\r\nhttp://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/\r\n\r\nI want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-35','','','2012-06-27 03:06:44','2012-06-27 03:06:44','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-35/',0,'revision','',0),(1888,19,'2012-07-02 19:31:19','2012-07-02 19:31:19','<p><a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/CastleHours2OpenStripped150.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/castle-book.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"castle-book\" width=\"526\" height=\"357\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-651\" /></a><span class=\"caption\">Castle Book of Hours #2, use of Rouen. Manuscript, written and illustrated in Rouen, France, mid-15th century. Bryn Mawr College Library</span></p>\r\n<p>The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.</p>\r\n<p>How do people encounter the <em>Castle Book of Hours #2</em>? We get some answer to this question in <a href=\"http://www.brynmawr.edu/library/exhibitions.html\" target=\"_blank\">“Worlds to Discover”</a>, an exhibit in honor of the 125<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Bryn Mawr College. The exhibit features objects that are set off by statements from students and faculty about how the object matters.  With this <em>Book of Hours</em>, faculty member Martha Easton remarks that instead of one page – out of context – when one has this manuscript in one’s hands, one gets a better sense of how this object “might have been used and consumed.” The encounters for Anne Harding, a student at Bryn Mawr, seem to be moving her towards a career that will keep her in touch with objects like these.</p>\r\n<p>http://www.viddler.com/explore/brynmawr/videos/960/</p>\r\n<p>I want to point to another encounter with this same object.  The teacher of a fifth grade art class, teaching the students to create their own illuminated manuscripts, asked that I bring in examples of illuminated manuscripts, and this was one of two that I brought along.  The fascination to the students was two-fold:  one, was the value of the object – how much was it worth?  This is something that college students ask too, so I say something like – well, as much as maybe a house is worth.  But that fascination was replaced quickly by the issue at hand:  the students had work to do; they were creating their own illumination and they wanted to use and consume this manuscript themselves.  Each of them had an initial letter, the first letter in their first name, to create for their own manuscript.  So the hunt was on, and luckily for them and for me, each of those letters could be found in the pages of this manuscript. Unlike Easton and Harding, the fifth graders themselves consumed the manuscripts, as opposed to getting the sense of how the manuscript was consumed.  They served as a reminder of the many ways that objects now in special collections speak to those who encounter them, from the first users of the Castle Book of Hours #2 to 21st-century students of all ages.</p>\r\n','Same Object, Different Audiences','The encounter of the person with the object: that is the object of this journal and the focus of this first issue.   This particular object, the Castle Book of Hours #2, a gift to the Bryn Mawr College Library, has been in my hands several times and is now part of an exhibition of objects from the College’s Special Collections.  All of the objects in the exhibition have been in the hands of students and faculty over the years, encountered in classrooms, used in assignments, touched.','inherit','open','open','','222-revision-36','','','2012-07-02 19:31:19','2012-07-02 19:31:19','',222,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/222-revision-36/',0,'revision','',0),(1889,19,'2012-07-02 19:04:43','2012-07-02 19:04:43','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-34','','','2012-07-02 19:04:43','2012-07-02 19:04:43','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-34/',0,'revision','',0),(1890,19,'2012-06-13 22:38:02','2012-06-13 22:38:02','Since I came to Wesleyan nearly fifteen years ago, a key focus of my job has been outreach to the faculty, and thus the undergraduates, through the curriculum.  To this end, I teach thirty-five to fifty class sessions each academic year in Special Collections &amp; Archives (SC&amp;A).  Disciplines range from Astronomy to Writing, and just about everything in between.\r\n\r\nThough all class sessions have the common goal of raising undergraduate awareness of and interest in the holdings of SC&amp;A, each class presentation is different, based on both the subject of the course and the pedagogical purpose for which the materials will be used.  Some sessions take a classic “dog and pony show” approach, in which I—or sometimes the professor and I—present a group of interesting materials from our collections and talk briefly about each item, how it connects to the course, and/or how it might be used in the students’ research.  In other sessions, students take a more active role by doing an in-class assignment.  One such assignment we often use is the “mystery book exercise” that a history of science faculty member and I developed together.  “Mystery book” is a fun, fast-paced exercise that trains students to evaluate an unfamiliar source quickly and teaches information literacy skills using books or documents connected to the subject of the course.  After spending a few minutes looking at a book they haven’t seen before, students answer ten questions, which range from the (usually) easy identification of the author to more complex considerations of how the mystery book might inform their research.  Still other classes use the visit to SC&amp;A as preparation for an in-depth paper or project that requires, or at least strongly encourages, the use of materials in Special Collections &amp; Archives.  These longer assignments are as varied as the classes, and they include traditional term papers, documentary editing projects, artists’ books, and creative writing based on primary sources, among others.  For the full list of mystery book questions, other assignments, and comments from Wesleyan professors who use Special Collections &amp; Archives in teaching, see the online exhibition, <em><a href=\"http://oldbooks.site.wesleyan.edu/\">Old Books, New Pedagogy: Special Collections and Archives in the Curriculum</a></em>.\r\n\r\nOf course, not all the work I do with undergraduates is teaching them about archives and special collections in class settings.  Often class visits spark students’ use of SC&amp;A for other courses, senior theses or essays, co-curricular activities, or just simple personal interest.  In many of these cases, I work one-on-one with the students to help them identify relevant materials, focus topics, find related books or documents, understand the context – all typical functions of reference and instruction librarians.\r\n\r\nMuch of my recent professional activity has focused on teaching undergraduates using archives and special collections.  I’ve just completed co-editing a volume of case studies on this topic, entitled <em>Past or Portal? Enhancing Undergraduate Learning through Special Collections and Archives</em>.  The book, which is forthcoming from the Association of College and Research Libraries, contains nearly fifty real-life examples of undergraduate curricular use of archives and special collections in a wide variety of institutions.','Vodou Songs - Taraba 1','','inherit','open','open','','1558-revision-3','','','2012-06-13 22:38:02','2012-06-13 22:38:02','',1558,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1558-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1891,19,'2011-05-02 05:53:27','2011-05-02 05:53:27','','Home','','inherit','open','open','','539-revision-3','','','2011-05-02 05:53:27','2011-05-02 05:53:27','',539,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/539-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1892,19,'2012-07-17 21:29:43','2012-07-17 21:29:43','','Home','','inherit','open','open','','539-revision-4','','','2012-07-17 21:29:43','2012-07-17 21:29:43','',539,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/539-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1893,19,'2012-07-17 21:29:51','2012-07-17 21:29:51','','Home','','inherit','open','open','','539-revision-5','','','2012-07-17 21:29:51','2012-07-17 21:29:51','',539,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/539-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(1894,19,'2012-06-27 03:59:57','2012-06-27 03:59:57','','Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English','','inherit','open','open','','1500-revision-34','','','2012-06-27 03:59:57','2012-06-27 03:59:57','',1500,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1500-revision-34/',0,'revision','',0),(1895,19,'2011-05-02 04:50:23','2011-05-02 04:50:23','[customcontact form=1]','Contact Us','','inherit','open','open','','30-revision-5','','','2011-05-02 04:50:23','2011-05-02 04:50:23','',30,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/30-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(1901,19,'2012-07-18 21:49:57','2012-07-18 21:49:57','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-36','','','2012-07-18 21:49:57','2012-07-18 21:49:57','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-36/',0,'revision','',0),(1902,19,'2012-07-18 21:50:08','2012-07-18 21:50:08','<p>Having cut my teeth on <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler </em>and the Indiana Jones films as a kid<em>, </em>it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.<a href=\"http://archivejournal.net/journal/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/code-letter.jpg\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/civil-war-letter.png\" alt=\"\" title=\"civil-war-letter\" width=\"178\" height=\"450\" class=\"alignright size-full wp-image-653\" /></a> In grad school my interest in archives led me to Britain (thank you, University of Florida!) where, beneath the blue and gold and white dome of the <a href=\"http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/history_and_the_building/reading_room.aspx\">old British Library</a>, I fancied I could still almost hear the whispered wishes for enlightenment that scholars and revolutionaries and historians had prayed for. Later, in the <a href=\"http://www.bronte.org.uk/\">Brontë parsonage museum</a> on the edge of the moors, I sat in a research room off the Brontës’ kitchen, reading their juvenilia <em>in situ. </em>In the <a href=\"http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/spec/baldwin/baldwin.html\">Baldwin archive</a> at UF I encountered E.R.’s <em>Geography and History by a Lady for the Use of her own Children </em>(1790), the book that changed my life by opening up an entire forgotten genre of writing by middle-class women who sought to participate in the imperial project through socially sanctioned writing for children. This taught me that archives still hold so many stories and secrets; their potential sleeps very patiently.</p>\r\n<p>The lesson helped me during my postdoc at Lehigh when, in the process of cataloguing over 400 miscellaneous letters for the <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/\">“I remain…”</a> project, I ran across a document whose garbled syntax at first suggested too long a day, but then thrillingly emerged as a coded Civil War letter. All that year I researched the letter, talking about it to computer scientists who tried to develop an algorithm to break the Stager Cipher, discussing it with historians, presenting it to local fourth graders who eagerly peppered me with questions, and even corresponding with the NSA cryptology center to track down one of the few remaining code books about the ciphers. Though I never managed to crack it, the mystery was sustaining, engaging, and a great conversation starter wherever I went. I carried its story with me, imagined its content, and marveled at its survival. It came from the smoke of the battlefield, from the anxious hands of a telegraph operator who hurriedly crossed out mistakes and scrawled incorrect calculations in the margins on the eve of the second battle of Bull Run when so many lives and the military career of the writer hung in the balance. With the Digital Library Team, we scanned the letter, sketched its history, and <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/cdm4/remain_viewer.php?DMTHUMB=1&amp;cat=Civil%20War&amp;ptr=124&amp;CISOSTART=21\">put it online</a> so that others could enjoy the mystery. This year, it was gratifying when special collections librarian Ilhan Citak forwarded me an article by computer scientists Ali Assarpour and Kent D. Boklan detailing how they broke the 148-year old code. In the end, the story of the letter goes on and so many of us have yoked our own stories to it. It seems that Derrida was right when he said that the archive opens out of and into the future, gathering associations, richness, devotees, and memories as it glides past us into the future. The past becomes a present in every sense.</p>\r\n','Cracking a Civil War Code','Having cut my teeth on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler and the Indiana Jones films as a kid, it comes as no surprise perhaps that my scholarly career is informed and driven by archival research. I am addicted to the smell and feel of yellowed paper, ancient vellum, and the sight of spidery, faded fountain pen inscriptions makes my heart race—yes, I suffer from an incurable case of archive fever.','inherit','open','open','','235-revision-37','','','2012-07-18 21:50:08','2012-07-18 21:50:08','',235,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/235-revision-37/',0,'revision','',0),(1904,19,'2012-05-28 18:14:33','2012-05-28 18:14:33','','Hands-On Research with Rare Books and Ephemera ','This case study features work that two students completed in an English class at Goucher College. The course, The Archeology of Text, offers students an understanding of the social and historical frameworks for the production and consumption of text, beginning with the digital age and moving backwards in time. Students are also trained in bibliographic research skills, which they apply to objects in Goucher’s Special Collections library. These objects then become the subjects of a research paper that serves as the final course project.','inherit','open','open','','1047-revision-28','','','2012-05-28 18:14:33','2012-05-28 18:14:33','',1047,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1047-revision-28/',0,'revision','',0),(1905,19,'2012-02-12 01:55:13','2012-02-12 01:55:13','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1380\" title=\"lehigh_support head shot_maserjian\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_support-head-shot_maserjian.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />I’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories – digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling is the use of computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.\r\n\r\nIn the fall of 2005 I had the pleasure of working with English Professor Ed Gallagher in an experimental, first-year writing course, “Digital Songs, Stories, and Histories” that offered students new ways of communicating through a variety of multi-media assignments. For one assignment, the students were asked to develop a video based on a research question they developed from materials they found in Lehigh’s Digital Library I Remain: A Digital Archive of Letters, Manuscripts, and Ephemera project. The site contains hundreds of items from the University’s Special Collections and Archives that represent five centuries of writers, explorers, scientists, philosophers, and politicians.\r\nThe students were asked to select a document from the site that piqued their curiosity, transcribe that document, formulate a historical question, develop a thesis, select materials that would support that thesis, and produce a video based on these efforts. The vast majority of the students embraced the archival and technological challenge. The results appear on the I Remain site.\r\n\r\nIn order to understand the content development and technological challenges faced by our students, I delved into my family archives and produced a short personal video story about my father. I was amazed at the ability of this process to challenge and change my perspective on the past. Cathartic is the only way I can describe my experience. Clearly smitten with this medium, the following year I taught a course for the history department, Digital History and Video. This class had a mix of undergraduate and graduate students who were also asked to explore the archival materials on the I Remain site. They were asked to perform many of the same assignments as the previous class but were, as the course level dictated, asked to be even more rigorous in their research. The students wrote a footnoted essay about their document(s), and then converted their research essay into a script to include narration and accompanying visuals.\r\n\r\nOne of the Digital History students – a senior with a double major in history and education – discovered a treasure trove of primary sources when she came upon a scrapbook of memorabilia related to the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. The scrapbook was compiled by American boundary commissioner, Rhode Island secretary of state, historian and author, John R. Bartlett. Using many of the images in the scrapbook, she constructed a seven-minute video about the assassination of President Lincoln and the effect of his death on the country. Rather than address a scholarly audience in her production, she chose to produce a documentary with a general audience in mind and, through her narration and accompanying voice-over collaborations with faculty and fellow classmates, her storytelling choices are clearly directed toward that audience. Initially intimidated by the use of new technology, this student was pleased that she was able to face the challenge and learn a new skill that would help her in her career in elementary education.\r\n\r\nSince these initial forays into student-produced documentary, I am pleased to say that this form of communication is alive and well at Lehigh University. With the growth in the number of requests for video projects, Library and Technology Services formed the Documentary Resource Team. The Team is comprised of librarians, instructional technologists, and media specialists who help faculty and students navigate the opportunities and challenges of video production. In many of these classes physical and virtual archives are extensively used in research and image selection. With the opportunities of archival discovery also come the challenges of representing findings.\r\nThe materials we uncover in archives and the way we choose to use them has provoked an ongoing series of questions about copyright, research methodology and documentary ethics. Regardless of event (long ago or yesterday) or individual (living or dead), the lessons our students learn about their obligations in representing the lives of others is an important one. What is at stake when, as digital storytellers, we document the experience of others? What happens when those experiences move beyond the confines of the classroom and become part of a larger audience at public screenings or on the web? The questions of authority, privacy, responsibility, and moral obligations are good ones with no easy answers. Luckily, as educators, we are not in the business of easy answers.','Julia Maserjian - Commentary','I’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories – digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling is the use of computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.','inherit','open','open','','1116-revision-4','','','2012-02-12 01:55:13','2012-02-12 01:55:13','',1116,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1116-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1906,19,'2012-02-12 01:55:57','2012-02-12 01:55:57','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1374\" title=\"lehigh_instructor head shot_kramp\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_instructor-head-shot_kramp.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />My Fall 2011 English and Women’s Studies upper-level undergraduate class, “Theories of Masculinity” was designed to coordinate with the 40th anniversary of undergraduate women at Lehigh University. A major component of this course was a student-produced documentary film that considers the effects of co-education on men and masculinity at Lehigh. This film project provided my students with an opportunity to examine critically Lehigh’s institutional history, focusing on the late 1960s and early 1970s. While it was not my initial intention, I was extremely pleased by the students’ abilities to research and study their own school’s history. They made extensive use of Lehigh’s Archives and Special Collections to collect numerous articles, documents, and perhaps most importantly, photographs, and they incorporated these materials into the different sections of the film (see Figures 1-6). Students discovered several cultural texts from the 1960s and 1970s that portrayed Lehigh as a haven for privileged masculinity—a sphere in which men appeared largely ignorant of the volatile Civil Rights Movement and the emergent mid-century Women’s Movement. And yet, my students’ research also revealed that the Lehigh community of this era was also clearly cognizant of impending social changes. As my students tracked this tension between the ossification of male hegemony and the certainty of coming shifts, they developed a newfound appreciation for the importance of institutional history to the present operations of a university.\r\n\r\nThe prominence of Greek Life was certainly one such feature of this legacy. Two of the four segments of the film addressed the role of fraternities and Greek social life, including the final section that focused on men and masculinity in Lehigh’s contemporary culture. The students who explored Lehigh’s mid-century Greek culture found ample textual evidence of its importance, including photographs, yearbook coverage, and film footage. When these members of my course interviewed alumni from the 1960s and 1970s, these men reported that Greek Life had waned significantly in the years following coeducation; but when other students spoke with current male and female students, these individuals emphasized the enduring importance of Fraternities and Sororities to the culture of Lehigh. In addition, the group of filmmakers who focused on the period prior to coeducation highlighted the ways in which women were brought to campus for Saturday evening social events such as dances; my students interviewed several alumni who commented on the awkwardness of such activities, for both the men and the women. They even include a telling newspaper story in which Cedar Crest College, a small women’s college in nearby Allentown, is referenced as a bordello of the Lehigh Valley (see Figure 1). The student filmmakers who covered the years immediately following coeducation also treated the clumsiness of men’s interactions with women; they point to challenges in managing facilities and planning building construction, developing female athletics, and integrating women into extra-curricular clubs and organizations, such as the marching band. The group of filmmakers who treated contemporary conceptions of masculinity within the Lehigh community, not surprisingly, makes explicit reference to the enduring legacy of sexual inequality and the perceived intellectual inferiority of women. They cited recent newspaper accounts on persistent gender inequities on campus, and conduct numerous interviews on the topic. While it may very well have been unintentional, these students never interviewed a male and female subject together; instead, they consistently showed pairs of male students, suggesting the extant homosocial culture of Lehigh.\r\n\r\nI wanted my students to engage the history and culture of Lehigh through film technology because it provided them with an opportunity to artistically synthesize a variety of different kinds of texts (i.e. photos, newspaper articles, found film footage, interviews, etc.). The film medium also allowed my students to share their work within public forums, respond to questions and concerns, and discuss their own research and artistic strategies. In effect, the film project allowed my students to contribute to the very institutional history of Lehigh University they were researching. The archival work completed by my students for this film has effectively introduced them to both the depths of information housed in Lehigh’s Special Collections and the profound relevance of institutional history to their own educational experiences. As I reflect upon the experience, there is no doubt in my mind that the most important single component of this process was done long before this class started—the cataloguing and digitization of the university newspaper and annual yearbooks made such a classroom project possible. The film has allowed students, faculty, and alumni to look back into the past of Lehigh, and while this project has undoubtedly opened some uncomfortable topics and discussions, it has also reminded current and former member of the Lehigh community of their shared history.','Michael Kramp - Commentary','My Fall 2011 English and Women’s Studies upper-level undergraduate class, “Theories of Masculinity” was designed to coordinate with the 40th anniversary of undergraduate women at Lehigh University. A major component of this course was a student-produced documentary film that considers the effects of co-education on men and masculinity at Lehigh. This film project provided my students with an opportunity to examine critically Lehigh’s institutional history, focusing on the late 1960s and early 1970s.','inherit','open','open','','1110-revision-7','','','2012-02-12 01:55:57','2012-02-12 01:55:57','',1110,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/%issue%/uncategorized/1110-revision-7/',0,'revision','',0),(3297,19,'2012-10-19 03:22:01','2012-10-19 03:22:01','A few years ago, I was myself an undergraduate in the archive. In a class called “Dead Media Research Studio” at New York University, Professor Ben Kafka had introduced me to the great quip about the chiasmic imperative of good research— to “make the familiar strange and the strange familiar.” With this echoing in my ears, I found myself in the entrails of Bobst Library interviewing two preservation specialists about a small but intriguing collection of wire recordings. The recordings, I found out, were from rather unknown origins in the early 50s and contained some controversial tirades against President Truman. Though certainly not an exhaustive archive, the recordings were my first meaningful interaction with historical primary sources. And it was a rather lonely endeavor: the hallways leading to troves of under-researched sources were woefully empty compared to the bustling study lounges just a few floors above.\r\n\r\nMy research on wire recordings ended up as part of a dossier (similar to the format and scope of a Wikipedia entry) I wrote with two classmates for the Dead Media Archive. Professors Ben Kafka and Alex Galloway had rescued this archive from its own ironic demise as an email list created by Bruce Sterling to catalog and describe obsolete technologies. The new Dead Media Archive, technically a wiki platform for simultaneous publishing and editing, became the centerpiece for two classes in the Department of Media, Culture, &amp; Communication (one undergraduate and one graduate). The semester I took the class, there were barely 10 students enrolled. It puzzled me a bit, since Prof. Kafka announced on the first day what every undergraduate seems to dream of: there would be no exams, no papers, and very little reading. Instead, we were to be immersed in the city’s archives for a semester. Each student ended up producing three dossiers for the archive. In addition to one on wire recording, I also wrote an entry on spirit photography, a popular practice at the turn of the 20<sup>th</sup>century of “capturing” ghosts on film, accompanied by the rise of Spiritualism. A sizeable portion of my hard drive is still taken up by copies of the microform proceedings of the 1869 trial against William Mumler, a New York City spirit photographer accused of fraud. (FIG. 1) My final dossier took a more argumentative take on the “death” of media by cataloging marginalia, the scribbles in a text’s margins, as obsolete relics of a technological paradigm.<span class=\"caption right\" style=\"width: 200px; padding-left: 20px;\"><a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/gotkin_fig1.png\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-2331 alignright\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\" title=\"gotkin_fig1\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/gotkin_fig1-193x250.png\" alt=\"Figure 1\" width=\"193\" height=\"250\" /></a>Figure 1: Microform copy of the proceedings of a 1869 court case against spirit photographer William Mumler.</span>\r\n\r\nBefore arriving at NYU, I would have scoffed at the idea of studying media history. There was much sighing on my first day in the required “History of Communication” course, since I imagined, like many fellow undergraduates, that a degree in media studies would help me land a job in New York’s radio, television, or film industries. History, for us, was a roadblock in the path to careers less concerned with history than the frenetic present. The thrill of finding primary sources changed my mind. In the archive, I realized the opportunity to conduct original research. The excitement of my undergraduate archival work is one shared by graduate students and faculty: of finding something that hasn’t been thought about enough and working hard enough to make it both familiar and strange.','Undergraduates in the Archives - Gotkin 1','','inherit','open','open','','3251-revision-11','','','2012-10-19 03:22:01','2012-10-19 03:22:01','',3251,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/3251-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1908,19,'2012-02-16 20:23:42','2012-02-16 20:23:42','Undergraduate archival work can be like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. In most classes, the readings and discussions act as essential compasses in guiding the student through the semester. In the archive, most – if not all – bets are off: there are rarely already-made tutorials on organizing and making sense of the productive entropy that often marks an archive. How are we to situate a newly discovered text if we haven’t even finished our undergraduate prerequisite courses?\r\n\r\nFor me, the most challenging moments in the archive were the earliest, both because I was adjusting to the demands of archival methods and because I had only a small number of anchoring texts echoing in my head to help me make sense of anything I found. In fact, I probably missed a number of promising leads in the archive because I didn’t know to look for.\r\n\r\nA good friend and I won a small grant at NYU for a research project about marginalia. We were to trace the marginalia of a particular ancient religious text, the Hermes Trismegistus. While I was scouring libraries in Paris for the history of the text’s early translation, my partner was in New York looking for evidence of contemporary readers’ marks on the book. My job was to plot the ancient scribbles, which seemed easy enough before I actually entered the stacks. (FIG. 3) I was looking for the text itself while piecing together others’ accounts of the its migrations. As it turns out, the Hermes Trismegistus is an enduringly baffling historical object and its ancestry is riddled with gaps. A more experienced researcher would know how to explain this fitful history and perhaps use the inconsistencies and question marks as launching pads for substantive contributions. But since it was my first time in the archive for a sustained and labor-intensive project, they instead weighed on me like chains. Not only did I have trouble tracing the marginalia themselves, I had trouble explaining how I was having trouble.\r\n\r\nI realize now that this situation is not so much overcome with academic training as it is more efficiently handled. That moment of chaos and crisis is in fact a prerequisite to clear thinking, in my experience. As an undergraduate, I was overwhelmed by the disorder of the archival process, but then again, these troubles might have been the best training.','Vodou Songs - Gotkin 4','','inherit','open','open','','1533-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:23:42','2012-02-16 20:23:42','',1533,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1533-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1909,19,'2012-10-15 17:09:18','2012-10-15 17:09:18','Undergraduate archival work can be like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. In most classes, the readings and discussions act as essential compasses in guiding the student through the semester. In the archive, most—if not all—bets are off: there are rarely already-made tutorials on organizing and making sense of the productive entropy that often marks an archive. How are we to situate a newly discovered text if we haven’t even finished our undergraduate prerequisite courses?\n\nFor me, the most challenging moments in the archive were the earliest, both because I was adjusting to the demands of archival methods and because I had only a small number of anchoring texts echoing in my head to help me make sense of anything I found. In fact, I probably missed a number of promising leads in the archive because I didn’t know to look for.\n\nA good friend and I won a small grant at NYU for a research project about marginalia. We were to trace the marginalia of a particular ancient religious text, the Hermes Trismegistus. While I was scouring libraries in Paris for the history of the text’s early translation, my partner was in New York looking for evidence of contemporary readers’ marks on the book. My job was to plot the ancient scribbles, which seemed easy enough before I actually entered the stacks. (FIG. 3) I was looking for the text itself while piecing together others’ accounts of the its migrations. <span class=\"caption right\" style=\"width: 200px; padding-left: 20px;\"><a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/gotkin_fig3.jpg\"><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-2333 \" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\" title=\"gotkin_fig3\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/gotkin_fig3-190x250.jpg\" alt=\"Figure 3\" width=\"190\" height=\"250\" /></a> Figure 3: Depiction of the god Hermes Trismegistus (courtesy of Roanoke College)</span> As it turns out, the Hermes Trismegistus is an enduringly baffling historical object and its ancestry is riddled with gaps. A more experienced researcher would know how to explain this fitful history and perhaps use the inconsistencies and question marks as launching pads for substantive contributions. But since it was my first time in the archive for a sustained and labor-intensive project, they instead weighed on me like chains. Not only did I have trouble tracing the marginalia themselves, I had trouble explaining how I was having trouble.\n\nI realize now that this situation is not so much overcome with academic training as it is more efficiently handled. That moment of chaos and crisis is in fact a prerequisite to clear thinking, in my experience. As an undergraduate, I was overwhelmed by the disorder of the archival process, but then again, these troubles might have been the best training.','Undergraduates in the Archives - Gotkin 4','Undergraduate archival work can be like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. In most classes, the readings and discussions act as essential compasses in guiding the student through the semester. In the archive, most—if not all—bets are off: there are rarely already-made tutorials on organizing and making sense of the productive entropy that often marks an archive. ','inherit','open','open','','1533-autosave','','','2012-10-15 17:09:18','2012-10-15 17:09:18','',1533,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1533-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1910,19,'2012-07-24 02:14:47','2012-07-24 02:14:47','Undergraduate archival work can be like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. In most classes, the readings and discussions act as essential compasses in guiding the student through the semester. In the archive, most – if not all – bets are off: there are rarely already-made tutorials on organizing and making sense of the productive entropy that often marks an archive. How are we to situate a newly discovered text if we haven’t even finished our undergraduate prerequisite courses?\r\n\r\nFor me, the most challenging moments in the archive were the earliest, both because I was adjusting to the demands of archival methods and because I had only a small number of anchoring texts echoing in my head to help me make sense of anything I found. In fact, I probably missed a number of promising leads in the archive because I didn’t know to look for.\r\n\r\nA good friend and I won a small grant at NYU for a research project about marginalia. We were to trace the marginalia of a particular ancient religious text, the Hermes Trismegistus. While I was scouring libraries in Paris for the history of the text’s early translation, my partner was in New York looking for evidence of contemporary readers’ marks on the book. My job was to plot the ancient scribbles, which seemed easy enough before I actually entered the stacks. (FIG. 3) I was looking for the text itself while piecing together others’ accounts of the its migrations. As it turns out, the Hermes Trismegistus is an enduringly baffling historical object and its ancestry is riddled with gaps. A more experienced researcher would know how to explain this fitful history and perhaps use the inconsistencies and question marks as launching pads for substantive contributions. But since it was my first time in the archive for a sustained and labor-intensive project, they instead weighed on me like chains. Not only did I have trouble tracing the marginalia themselves, I had trouble explaining how I was having trouble.\r\n\r\nI realize now that this situation is not so much overcome with academic training as it is more efficiently handled. That moment of chaos and crisis is in fact a prerequisite to clear thinking, in my experience. As an undergraduate, I was overwhelmed by the disorder of the archival process, but then again, these troubles might have been the best training.','Vodou Songs - Gotkin 4','','inherit','open','open','','1533-revision-3','','','2012-07-24 02:14:47','2012-07-24 02:14:47','',1533,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1533-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(3296,19,'2012-10-15 23:13:00','2012-10-15 23:13:00','The Whitman archive is an example of excellent practice in the creation of digital scholarly resources. Its layout is simple, clear and easy to understand and navigate. It is obvious to a user where she is in the site, how to return to where she started from and what its various contents are. This might seem basic, but many resources, perhaps particularly those designed by and for academics tend not to pay enough attention to the basics of good design and usability, and can, as a result be confusing and frustrating for users. Since we make decisions about web pages in fractions of a second[ref]G. Lindgaard, C. Dudek, F. Fernandes, and J. Brown, “Attention Web Designers: You Have 50 Milliseconds to Make a Good First Impression,” <em>Behaviour &amp; Information Technology</em> 25 (2005): 115-126.[/ref] and humanities users, in particular, are easily deterred from using a resource that seems untrustworthy to them[ref]Claire Warwick, M. Terras, P. Huntington, and N. Pappa, “If You Build It Will They Come? The LAIRAH Study: Quantifying the Use of Online Resources in the Arts and Humanities through Statistical Analysis of User Log Data,” <em>Literary and Linguistic Computing</em> 23:1 (2008): 85-102.[/ref] it is vital that such simple considerations as the look and functionality of the site should instantly seem comprehensible and comfortable for users.[ref]Dana Wheeles, “Accessibility, Usability and the New Face of NINES” <em>Literary and Linguistic Computing</em> 25:4 (2010). Forthcoming.[/ref]\r\n\r\nOne of the most impressive things about the Whitman archive is that it can be addressed in different ways depending on the level of expertise the user may have: this is by no means common in scholarly digital resources. As someone who was once worked on English, but not American, literature and who now regards herself as a full time Digital Humanist, I know relatively little about Walt Whitman\'s life and career. As a result of using the archive, however, I was able to find a considerable amount of information at an appropriate level. In other words, this was content of a level well beyond the introductory but which was not simply directed at other Whitman scholars and other expert users. This is a surprisingly difficult balance to achieve in any medium but seems especially challenging in the digital one. Many digital scholarly resources tend to assume that their users will be experts in the subject matter. This is not necessarily the case and as a result non-expert users may easily be confused or lose interest.[ref]Warwick et al., “If You Build It.”[/ref] This seems particularly perverse, since digital resources are an excellent way for scholars to engage with those outside academia who share their interests and to encourage those with an interest to become to sufficiently intrigued that they become the experts of the future. If the non-expert user is deterred, how will they make progress to expertise? This is an opportunity that the Whitman archive has fully understood.\r\n\r\nThis does not mean that expert users are neglected, however. The archive has evidently been designed with the needs of its academic users in mind. For example, scholars interested in the language of poetry who may want to run linguistic analysis software on these texts will be particularly please that the full TEI marked up texts are available for downloading from the archive as well as being presented on line. The fact that such texts and detailed markup guidelines are available is an example of excellent practice and also rather unusual. Even some of the best TEI practitioners can seem somewhat nervous of making their markup decisions so public, and many digital humanities resources only make texts available as post-processed XHTML.\r\n\r\nThere is also a clear understanding on the part of the Archive’s creators of the way that scholars prefer to work in digital and physical environments. We know, for example, that however many resources are digitised scholars generally want to see the originals. It is now well known that the more digital resources are available the higher the demand that tends to be for original material. As a result, it is especially welcome that the archive has provided such detailed guidance as to how the original materials may be accessed with full bibliographic records. This means that scholars are able to consult manuscript images and transcriptions before they visit physical archives, which enhances, rather than disrupts their use of archival material. This is a particularly effective use of digital resources to complement physical ones.\r\n\r\nOne of the most impressive features of the Whitman Archive is that documentation about the project is so easy to access. As we recommended in the LAIRAH study[ref]Claire Warwick, I. Galina, M. Terras, P. Huntington, and N. Pappa, “The Master Builders: LAIRAH Research on Good Practice in the Construction of Digital Humanities Projects,” <em>Literary and Linguistic Computing</em> 23:3 (2008): 383-396.[/ref] there is a top level link from the title page to documentation about the project. Under this link are to be found a great variety of very useful documents telling readers and users just about anything they might want to know about the archive in terms of its scholarly principles, history, technical standards and encoding guidelines. It is also clear who its creators are their expertise and how this has been used to take decisions about the creation and direction of the archive. This excellent feature is surprisingly difficult to find in many digital archives, editions or resources. However, it is vital, since users require users require this type of contextual information about the processes used to select and interpret data. In the print medium we have evolved techniques and processes to indicate that a selection and evaluation process has taken place (the footnote, the imprimatur, the authorial biography, the bibliography) In the digital world such things are still developing and the digital still remains, for many academic users in particular, less trustworthy than print.[ref]Warwick et al., “If You Build It.”[/ref]','The Walt Whitman Archive – Warwick 1','The Whitman archive is an example of excellent practice in the creation of digital scholarly resources. Its layout is simple, clear and easy to understand and navigate. It is obvious to a user where she is in the site, how to return to where she started from and what its various contents are. This might seem basic, but many resources, perhaps particularly those designed by and for academics...','inherit','open','open','','117-revision-28','','','2012-10-15 23:13:00','2012-10-15 23:13:00','',117,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/117-revision-28/',0,'revision','',0),(1915,19,'2012-02-12 00:45:22','2012-02-12 00:45:22','<strong>1. How many students worked at the History Branch and Archives of the Cleveland Bradley County Library?</strong>\r\n\r\nTwo students worked at the History Branch one evening a week for a set number of weeks.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. Will you work with History Lab students again?</strong>\r\n\r\nCertainly. The students were polite, reliable, diligent in their work, and followed directions with little supervision.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What did you find most productive or enjoyable about the process of working with the students?</strong>\r\n\r\nIt was rewarding to see the students’ progress from novice researchers to becoming confident in their work. Along the way their project changed from a class assignment to one of discovery. They became excited and interested in their subject and wanted to expand the scope of their work through additional research.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. How has the students’ work impacted the History Branch and its collections?</strong>\r\n<ul>\r\n	<li>The additional research done by the students will be available to all of the library’s patrons.</li>\r\n	<li>Students have given presentations on their research to the Bradley County Historical and Genealogical Society.</li>\r\n	<li>Observing the students as they worked with the photograph collection helped me to be more aware of the type of material that captures a new researcher’s attention.</li>\r\n</ul>','Barbara Fagen - Commentary','','inherit','open','open','','1020-revision-11','','','2012-02-12 00:45:22','2012-02-12 00:45:22','',1020,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1020-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1916,19,'2012-06-27 02:43:40','2012-06-27 02:43:40','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" />[/caption]\n\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\n\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\n\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\n\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-10','','','2012-06-27 02:43:40','2012-06-27 02:43:40','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1917,19,'2012-07-24 03:59:32','2012-07-24 03:59:32','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-11','','','2012-07-24 03:59:32','2012-07-24 03:59:32','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1918,19,'2012-07-24 03:59:44','2012-07-24 03:59:44','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-12','','','2012-07-24 03:59:44','2012-07-24 03:59:44','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-12/',0,'revision','',0),(1919,19,'2012-07-24 04:00:25','2012-07-24 04:00:25','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-13','','','2012-07-24 04:00:25','2012-07-24 04:00:25','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1920,19,'2012-07-23 21:21:58','2012-07-23 21:21:58','','Hands-On Research with Rare Books and Ephemera ','This case study features work that two students completed in an English class at Goucher College. The course, The Archeology of Text, offers students an understanding of the social and historical frameworks for the production and consumption of text, beginning with the digital age and moving backwards in time. Students are also trained in bibliographic research skills, which they apply to objects in Goucher’s Special Collections library. These objects then become the subjects of a research paper that serves as the final course project.','inherit','open','open','','1047-revision-29','','','2012-07-23 21:21:58','2012-07-23 21:21:58','',1047,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1047-revision-29/',0,'revision','',0),(1921,19,'2012-03-07 05:36:20','2012-03-07 05:36:20','In a world of etiquette and formality, dance cards quickly became indispensable to young women in search of dancing partners. They were a manifestation of etiquette, used to keep social order and help their users follow protocol. Though dance cards are rarely used now, the study of these cards gives a lot of insight into the societies and groups that used them.\r\n\r\nLists of etiquette books remain from all different periods, instructing men and women how to act in each particular circumstance. Dancing claims a large portion of many of these books, as it was considered an elegant pastime and a way to judge one\'s character. Dancing was a sign of culture and social class, as the upper class had formal dance training while they were young.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1341\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Scrapbook page showing in situ location of the U. S. Naval Academy June 2, 1921 Farewell Ball dance card with other balls&#039; cards, press clippings, trolley ticket stubs, and other memorabilia  from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).\"]<img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image3_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" title=\"goucher_student work image3_brand\" width=\"638\" height=\"761\" class=\"size-full wp-image-1341\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\nThe dance card furthered one\'s enjoyment of dancing, as it allowed young women to know who they would dance with; they never needed to worry about procuring a partner for the following dance, because he had already signed her card. A practice known as “dating ahead” became quite common as young women began filling out their dance cards in advance of the evening, to ensure that they would not be without a partner. Many women worried about not being asked to dance, as the most beautiful, best dancers were constantly engaged on the dance floor; the women without partners were often looked down on and pitied. Young women feared not having a partner for every dance, and having a dance card allowed them to make sure they would be busy dancing the entire night.\r\n\r\nDance cards also provided women with a way to gracefully decline a dance invitation. Johnson points out, “a lady must not decline the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she is previously engaged, or does not intend to dance any more during the evening” (79). Having a dance card allowed women to fill out their card with men who they would prefer to dance with, and it also allowed them to gracefully decline a dance by saying her card is full, even though this may not be true.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nIt was also a way for young women to remember her engagements:\r\n\r\nIn the etiquette of the ballroom young ladies should be very careful to keep their promises to their various partners. Little books are furnished as memorizers, and the same honor is imperative here as in greater things. (American Code of Manners 43)\r\n\r\nThe dance card acted as a reminder of who she was supposed to dance with for each dance, which helped with confusion in promising multiple dances. The dance card also allowed a convenient excuse when a woman accidentally promised the same dance to two men; she could simply claim that her “programme had got into such a state of confusion” and refrain from offending either party involved (Aldrich 113). After the ball has ended, the dance card can serve as a memento of the event, “Each dance is entered on the program—and many a delightful memory is kept alive by glancing at these names days after the dance is held” (Eichler 97). In this way, the card acts as a reminder both at the ball and after the ball is finished.\r\n\r\nDance cards were predominantly used before the 20th century, but certain groups upheld tradition and used them much longer. As Eichler points out in 1922, “The dance program is rarely used now except at college dances, or army and navy dances. It has lost prestige with the passing of the old fashioned ball” (97).\r\n\r\nThe Archives and Special Collections at the United States Naval Academy holds an extensive collection of cards from many different events. The Academy, with its emphasis on tradition, used dance cards at their Winter Hops, the Ring Dance and the Farewell Ball into the 1960s. The USNA Archives provides a wonderful example of the evolution of the dance card, through the cards they have from the Farewell Ball, spanning from 1893 to 1976.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1344\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Sample dance card page with partners for five dances filled in, from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1344\" title=\"goucher_student work image2_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image2_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"932\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nThe earliest dance card in the collection is from The Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1893 , donated by Mrs. Elizabeth Galt Welles (13 x 8.5 cm). The card is bound by a ribbon bow on the top vertical edge, with heavy cardstock covers in an ivory color. The cover simply states the dance and date in black ink with gold embellishments. The half-inch wide ribbon is long enough for the card to be carried on a lady’s wrist and holds a small pencil 7 cm in length. Inside the cover were 2 pages containing the list of dances with the song titles and composers. The card had not been filled out by its owner. The simple design creates an elegant card, following the guidelines for cards set by The Ballroom Guide published in the 1860s: “modern taste is inclined to favour plain and chaste designs rather than florid” (Aldrich 117). The contents of the card show that the emphasis of the card was on the order of dances, without much information about the ball.\r\n\r\nUnfortunately, the Academy does not have any cards from the balls in between 1893 and 1906, but the card from the 1906 Farewell Ball provides a beautiful example of a dance card. Donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, the card is 10 x 7.5 cm with a tan leather cover. The cover has two inside pockets and a strap to attach the card to a woman’s wrist. Inside, the card contains three bifolia with much more decoration than the 1893 card. The card begins with a title page, which announces the name, date, and location of the ball. Following the title page are three pages of dances with spaces for 25 dances. For the first two pages of dances, each recto side holds a space for eight dances and on the verso is an illumination of a woman in an evening gown and a woman in a Navy coat and cover, respectively. The third page lists nine dances on the recto side and lists the committee of midshipmen who planned the ball on the verso. After these there are two blank pages with the word “Autographs” printed at the top of each page. This card—also not filled out—demonstrates the shift in focusing on only the dances to a larger focus on the card as a decorative souvenir.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball card from June 5th, 1908 donated by Mary McCarthy is the first in the collection filled out by its original owner. The last names of eight different men are written in pen with a beautiful cursive hand next to the dances. Ms. McCarthy danced 17 of the 25 dances listed and most of them were two steps and waltz, which were especially popular at the time. This card is much like the 1906 card, with a section listing the committee members and blank pages for autographs. Measuring 10 x 7.5 cm, the dark brown suede cover has a Naval Academy insignia blindly stamped in the center, with a dark brown cord and pockets inside the cover. The inside was printed with brown ink and tissue paper protected the pictures from transfer.\r\n\r\nIn 1909, the Farewell Ball dance card, donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, remained much the same. The 10.5 x 8 cm card had a navy blue vinyl cover with pockets inside to hold pictures and gold tooling for decoration. The inside contained the order of dances—not filled out—a supper list, and a committee list. The illustrations were in black and white with a small bit of red as an accent.\r\n\r\nAlso donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, the Farewell Ball, June 3rd 1910 dance card had a dark grey leather cover with a silver cord (10 x 7 cm). A blind tooled ship decorated the front, and white paint accented the moon and water. Inside, black and white illustrations were accented with the use of yellow, red, blue and green and were protected by tissue paper. The order of dances was filled out in sloppy cursive hand in pencil. The autograph section, however, was left blank.\r\n\r\nThe example from the Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1911 provided the most intricate cover. Measuring 11 x 6.5 cm while closed, the tan suede cover folds three times, containing extra pockets. Inside the front cover is one pocket and the small booklet of paper, the back cover extends to twice the front cover’s length, folding in on itself. The right side of the cover has a simple pocket, while the middle of the cover has a more complex pocket. The pocket is vertically arranged, with a flap that closes by inserting the narrow point of the flap into a loop. Naval Academy insignia is stamped onto the inner pockets of the cover. The dance card was attached to the lady’s wrist by a dark brown leather strap, which still holds an 8 cm pencil. Inside contains a title page, pictures with color accents, the committee list, a section for autographs and the order of dances, which is not filled out.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball, June 6th 1919 dance card has a navy blue vinyl cover with blind stamped Naval Academy insignia and date and a blue and yellow cord (10 x 8 cm). The inside contains a title page and the dances listed verso and spaces to fill out engagements listed recto. The card is not filled out and is decorated with black and white illustrations.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nBound vertically in a brown leather cover, the Farewell Ball June 3rd 1920 dance card measures 11 x 7.5 cm. The cover is blind stamped with blue and yellow cords. After the order of dances, there is a calendar from June 1920 to May 1921. The months are listed two at a time, with large pictures above them. The stiff cardstock paper has gilt edges.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball June 2nd 1921 dance card has a significantly different cover than the previous cards. The simple 9 x 6.5 cm white cardstock cover has a full color illustration on the cover with an embossed gold Naval Academy insignia. Previously, the covers were made of a more expensive material—usually leather or vinyl. This was the first ball held in Dahlgren Hall, one of the social buildings on the Naval Academy yard. The dances are listed 3 on a page, with no names of the songs, only the types of dances. The dances are not filled out. Next to the type of dance is a space labeled “meet under” and beneath the dances is a space for memories. There is also a different quote at the bottom of each page.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1343\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Front cover of the U. S. Naval Academy dance card for the June 2, 1921 Farewell Ball, from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1343\" title=\"goucher_student work image1_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image1_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"814\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\nSimilarly, the Farewell Ball June 2nd 1922 dance card has a white cardstock cover with a color illustration (from Keith Scrapbook, Goucher College Library). The 9 x 6.5 cm cover includes blind stamping and a blue and yellow cord. The layout is very much like the 1921 card, containing a list of dances, with a “meet under” space and space below for memories. This card, however, does not have quotes at the bottom of each page. At the end, there is a committee list. The card is filled out with black pen, and in the “meet under” section, flags are drawn with pen and colored. The ball was held in Dahlgren Hall, like the 1921 card also containing a “meet under” section. Dahlgren Hall is lined with flags on either side of the long, rectangular building. The “meet under” space allowed the women to draw in the flag and know exactly where she was to meet her next dancing partner. This aided even more in making sure that the women had a dance partner for every dance; it ensured that she would always be able to find her intended dance partner even in the crowded room. It is also possible that an escort would fill out the card in advance for his date with the illustrations of flags in order to ensure she danced the night away.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nIn 1923, the Academy went back to the leather cover for the Farewell Ball dance card. The cover is Navy blue with a gold tooled insignia, with inside pockets (11 x 8.5 cm). The recto pocket had a clear cut out to hold a photograph. For decoration, there are pictures that are whimsical in nature with tissue paper to protect the pictures from transfer. The dances are filled out in immaculately print black pen with flags drawn and colored next to last names.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball dance card from 1925 has a silver cardstock cover with a picture of the Naval Academy Chapel dome in different shades of blue. Measuring 9.5 x 6.5 cm, the card contains the order of dances and a “meet under” space, but there is no room to record memories or a committee list like in the 1921, 1922, and 1923 cards. The card is filled out in pen with a shaky hand and the flags are drawn and colored next to the names. On the inside cover recto is a hand drawn cartoon of a midshipman.\r\n\r\nThere is a gap until 1942, when the collection resumes with the Farewell Ball, June 18th 1942. It has a white leather cover with stamping and gold accents, measuring 10 x 7.5 cm. The inside is printed in blue and it can be attached to a woman’s wrist by the yellow cord. The card contains a title page and committee list, names the orchestra, and announces that Mrs. John R. Beardall is receiving. The order of dances is filled out in two different shades of blue pen and each name is written in a different style of hand. This indicates another use for the dance card. A woman can hand her card to whoever asks her to dance and have him write in his name. This is very useful, especially if the woman has forgotten his name and can look on the card for a reminder.\r\n\r\nLike the 1942 card, the Farewell Ball, June 5th 1945 card was printed with blue ink and has a yellow cord. The 10 x 7.5 cm card has a dark blue faux leather cover with stamping and gold accents. The inside lists who was receiving, the hostesses, committee members and the orchestra. The dances, which are not filled out, are numbered, but there is no information as to what dance or what song each number will be. This shows the diminishing importance of the dances on the dance card.\r\n\r\nSimilarly, the Farewell Ball, May 31st 1956 dance card only lists numbers for the dances. This 10 x 7.5 cm card has an off-white cardstock cover with blue ink and an off-white cord. Inside, it lists the title page, orchestra, the woman receiving and the hostesses. It also lists the committee list for both the Farewell Ball and for the other hops held throughout the year. It ends with a quote, “Three cheers for/ those who are about/ to leave us—/ Three cheers for/ those we leave behind/ us—” This quote becomes a standard addition to each following card.\r\n\r\nThe card from the Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1959 is much the same as the 1956 card. The 10 x 7.5 cm card has a gold cardstock cover with blue wording and a silhouette of a dancing couple. The cord is also blue. The card lists the orchestra, the woman receiving, the hostesses and the program of dances—numbers only, no types of dances or names of songs. Two of the dances are filled out and the others were left blank. After the dances the card lists the Farewell Ball committee and the Hop committee, which organizes the smaller dances throughout the year. It concludes with the Three Cheers quote found in the 1956 card.\r\n\r\nThe cards from the Farewell Balls in 1964, 1965 and 1966 have almost identical contents, with different covers. The 1964 card is 10.5 x 7.5 cm with a white cardstock cover with blue ink and gold embossing and a blue cord. The 1965 card is 11.5 x 9 cm. It has a light blue cover with black embossing and a dark blue cord. The 1966 card measures 11.5 x 9 cm with a light blue cardstock cover with navy blue ink and a navy blue cord. All the cards contain a title page and list the orchestra, woman receiving, officer representative, social director and hostesses. None of the cards are filled out and they are stapled at the fold.\r\n\r\nWith each consecutive card, the changes are minimal. The 1967 and 1968 Farewell Ball dance cards are exactly the same, with a different date. They are both 11.5 x 9 cm and their covers are light blue with black ink and a blue cord. Neither card is filled out.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball June 3rd 1969 card provides a very interesting look at the evolution of the dance card. Very similar to the previous cards, it measures 11.5 x 9cm and lists the title page, orchestra, woman receiving, officer representative, social director, hostesses and committees. It has a white cardstock cover with blue ink and a blue cord. It also includes the Navy “Blue and Gold” song. What it doesn’t include, however, is a program of dances or even a space to write down dance partners. The point of this card is to provide a souvenir of the dance and provide information about it, but it no longer serves a way for women to write down the names of their partners.\r\n\r\nThe cards from 1970, 1971 and 1972 are the same as the 1969 card. However, the 1971 card contains one change: the midshipman’s oath appears after the title page. The all have white cardstock covers, 11.5 x 9 cm, with navy blue ink and navy blue cords.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball, June 4th 1974 card presents another interesting change in the evolution of the dance card. The card no longer has a cord. The 11 x 9 cm card has a white cardstock cover with blue ink, but no cord with which a lady could attach it to her wrist. The cards from the 1975 and 1976 Farewell Balls have all the same internal elements, but measure 13 x 9 cm with a light blue cardstock cover printed in dark blue ink.\r\n\r\nThe progression of the Naval Academy Farewell Ball dance cards shows the decreased emphasis on dance and the move from the dance card as a reminder of the gentleman a woman had promised to dance with to a souvenir and program for the ball. The earlier dance cards contain little information about the ball itself; they focus on the dances, listing the order, the type of dance and the name of the song. Slowly, information is added to the card. In the 1920s, there was a place to write down memories and draw the flag under which the two would meet. These additions keep the focus on the dancing and the use of the dance card as a reminder and as a memento. In the 1940s, the cards begin to list the woman receiving, the committee who planned the ball and other information not directly related to the dancing. Also, the dances are no longer identified by type or name, they are simply numbered. This shows another step away from the focus on dancing. At this stage, the cord also becomes purely decorative. The cords attached to these cards aren’t long enough to secure around a woman’s wrist; they simply add a bit of decoration to the card. By the 1969 and into the 1970s, the dance cards no longer provide space to write the dances. They have transformed into souvenirs from the ball, giving information about the ball and incorporating quotes, song lyrics and lists of the people involved.\r\n<h5>Works Cited</h5>\r\nAldrich, Elizabeth. <em>From the Ballroom to Hell: Grace and Folly in Nineteenth-Century Dance</em>. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1991.\r\n\r\n<em>The American Code of Manners: a study of the usages, laws and observances which govern intercourse in the best social circles, and of the principles which underlie them</em>. New York: W. R. Andrews, 1880\r\n\r\nEichler, Lillian. <em>Book of Etiquette</em>. Oyster Bay: Nelson Doubleday Inc., 1922\r\n\r\nJohnson, Sophia Orne. <em>A Manual of Etiquette, with Hints on Politeness and Good Breeding</em>. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1885.\r\n\r\nGoucher College, Special Collections and Archives. Scrapbook Collection, Mary Lee Keith. Farewell Ball Dance Card, 1922.\r\n\r\nThe Nimitz Library, United States Naval Academy, Special Collections and Archives. Student Life, Dance Card Collection.','My Card Is Full: The Evolution of the Farewell Ball Dance Cards ','In a world of etiquette and formality, dance cards quickly became indispensable to young women in search of dancing partners. They were a manifestation of etiquette, used to keep social order and help their users follow protocol. Though dance cards are rarely used now, the study of these cards gives a lot of insight into the societies and groups that used them.\r\n\r\nLists of etiquette books remain from all different periods, instructing men and women how to act in each particular circumstance. Dancing claims a large portion of many of these books, as it was considered an elegant pastime and a way to judge one\'s character. Dancing was a sign of culture and social class, as the upper class had formal dance training while they were young.','inherit','open','open','','1326-revision-29','','','2012-03-07 05:36:20','2012-03-07 05:36:20','',1326,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1326-revision-29/',0,'revision','',0),(1923,19,'2012-02-11 20:38:46','2012-02-11 20:38:46','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.\r\n\r\nWhile working in Special Collections, I had often walked by large blue boxes containing scrapbooks, but I had yet to look through them. When I began leafing through the scrapbooks, I found that I learned as much about Goucher College as I did about the women who put the scrapbooks together. Many of the scrapbooks had things in common, including Valentines, pressed flowers, calling cards, and photographs. But what intrigued me most were the dance cards. I had never before encountered dance cards, or even heard of them, even though I had been dancing all my life. Many of the dance cards were from the Naval Academy, as it was a nearby school in need of women with which to dance. Goucher girls would often travel to Annapolis for the weekend dances and they brought back dance cards as souvenirs.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1275\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"Cassie Brand working in the former Rare Book Collection Seminar Room (December 2007) with an early Chaucer edition from Special Collections (Ed. John Urry, London: Printed for Bernard Lintot, 1721).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1275\" title=\"goucher_student action photo_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-action-photo_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\nWhen I began researching these cards, I found very little information. I went to all of the reference librarians I could find, but even they had difficulties, because there were just very few secondary sources out there. I looked through all the etiquette books I could get my hands on and even asked people to tell me what they knew about dance cards. Those who knew of them provided me with the basic information I needed to study the cards.\r\n\r\nI contacted the Naval Academy Archives and with the help of Nancy Magnuson, Goucher College Librarian, I made an appointment to see their collection. There I found an almost complete run of dance cards from the Farewell Ball, which was held every year after graduation. Some were blank, some were filled in, some contained photographs, and some still had their tiny pencils attached. Looking through the cards, I found that they could be studied in several ways. One could examine print history, dance history, social history or even one woman’s history of dance partners. I chose to look at how the cards changed over the years because the first and last dance cards were so drastically different. What I found was that the cards changed over the years to reflect the changes in social dances.\r\n\r\nThough I have not yet returned to the dance card collections to study them further, they have never been far from my mind. I am still trying to convince people that dance cards are brilliant and should be reinstated for social events. Dance cards remain an interest of mine and I would love to eventually write their complete history.','Cassie Brand - Commentary','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.','inherit','open','open','','1051-revision-9','','','2012-02-11 20:38:46','2012-02-11 20:38:46','',1051,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1051-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(1924,19,'2012-07-24 04:14:37','2012-07-24 04:14:37','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.\r\n\r\nWhile working in Special Collections, I had often walked by large blue boxes containing scrapbooks, but I had yet to look through them. When I began leafing through the scrapbooks, I found that I learned as much about Goucher College as I did about the women who put the scrapbooks together. Many of the scrapbooks had things in common, including Valentines, pressed flowers, calling cards, and photographs. But what intrigued me most were the dance cards. I had never before encountered dance cards, or even heard of them, even though I had been dancing all my life. Many of the dance cards were from the Naval Academy, as it was a nearby school in need of women with which to dance. Goucher girls would often travel to Annapolis for the weekend dances and they brought back dance cards as souvenirs.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1275\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"510\"]<img class=\" wp-image-1275 \" title=\"goucher_student action photo_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-action-photo_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"510\" height=\"382\" /> Cassie Brand working in the former Rare Book Collection Seminar Room (December 2007) with an early Chaucer edition from Special Collections (Ed. John Urry, London: Printed for Bernard Lintot, 1721).[/caption]\r\n\r\nWhen I began researching these cards, I found very little information. I went to all of the reference librarians I could find, but even they had difficulties, because there were just very few secondary sources out there. I looked through all the etiquette books I could get my hands on and even asked people to tell me what they knew about dance cards. Those who knew of them provided me with the basic information I needed to study the cards.\r\n\r\nI contacted the Naval Academy Archives and with the help of Nancy Magnuson, Goucher College Librarian, I made an appointment to see their collection. There I found an almost complete run of dance cards from the Farewell Ball, which was held every year after graduation. Some were blank, some were filled in, some contained photographs, and some still had their tiny pencils attached. Looking through the cards, I found that they could be studied in several ways. One could examine print history, dance history, social history or even one woman’s history of dance partners. I chose to look at how the cards changed over the years because the first and last dance cards were so drastically different. What I found was that the cards changed over the years to reflect the changes in social dances.\r\n\r\nThough I have not yet returned to the dance card collections to study them further, they have never been far from my mind. I am still trying to convince people that dance cards are brilliant and should be reinstated for social events. Dance cards remain an interest of mine and I would love to eventually write their complete history.','Cassie Brand - Commentary','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.','inherit','open','open','','1051-revision-10','','','2012-07-24 04:14:37','2012-07-24 04:14:37','',1051,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1051-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1925,19,'2012-05-28 18:14:36','2012-05-28 18:14:36','[caption id=\"attachment_1368\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"386\" caption=\"Image of James A. Bible (c. 1860) from the Ramsey Family Papers (MS 81). Saunders worked on this image for the SETDA. Used by permission of Cleveland Public Library.\"]<a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1368\" title=\"cscc_student work_sample material\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-work_sample-material.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"386\" height=\"640\" /></a>[/caption]','History Lab: Combining Service Learning, Research Methods, and Digital Archives ','This case study features the work of a student who took History Lab, an introductory history and service-learning course at Cleveland State Community College (CSCC). He researched individual items from a local cultural heritage organization that were then digitized, described, and published online in the <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive</a> (SETDA). \r\n\r\nMatthew Saunders\' work ended up in the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive. You can find the whole archive <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>, and the items Saunders contributed <a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1018-revision-20','','','2012-05-28 18:14:36','2012-05-28 18:14:36','',1018,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1018-revision-20/',0,'revision','',0),(1926,19,'2012-07-24 04:21:32','2012-07-24 04:21:32','[caption id=\"attachment_1368\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"386\"]<a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1368\" title=\"cscc_student work_sample material\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-work_sample-material.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"386\" height=\"640\" /></a> Image of James A. Bible (c. 1860) from the Ramsey Family Papers (MS 81). Saunders worked on this image for the SETDA. Used by permission of Cleveland Public Library.[/caption]','History Lab: Combining Service Learning, Research Methods, and Digital Archives ','This case study features the work of a student who took History Lab, an introductory history and service-learning course at Cleveland State Community College (CSCC). He researched individual items from a local cultural heritage organization that were then digitized, described, and published online in the <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive</a> (SETDA). \r\n\r\nMatthew Saunders\' work ended up in the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive. You can find the whole archive <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>, and the items Saunders contributed <a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1018-revision-21','','','2012-07-24 04:21:32','2012-07-24 04:21:32','',1018,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1018-revision-21/',0,'revision','',0),(1927,19,'2012-07-24 04:00:50','2012-07-24 04:00:50','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-14','','','2012-07-24 04:00:50','2012-07-24 04:00:50','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),(1928,19,'2012-07-24 04:23:17','2012-07-24 04:23:17','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-15','','','2012-07-24 04:23:17','2012-07-24 04:23:17','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1929,19,'2012-02-12 01:55:02','2012-02-12 01:55:02','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1378\" title=\"lehigh_student head shot_weber\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_student-head-shot_weber.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />During the Fall 2011 semester, I was a part of Lehigh University’s “Theories of Masculinity” class, an upper level English and Women’s Studies course. Initially, I signed up for it because it was a prerequisite for graduating with departmental honors. As a part of this course we created a documentary film on coeducation and its effects on men and masculinity at Lehigh, which is currently celebrating the fortieth anniversary of undergraduate coeducation. My role in this film became a challenging and ultimately very rewarding part of my education at Lehigh.\r\n\r\nCreating the film required extensive use of Lehigh University’s Special Collections. As someone with no familiarity with the process of researching in the archives, I was unaware of the extensive time and effort such an undertaking required. Yet, it was through delving into the pages and pages of yearbook photos from the late 60’s and early 70’s, and seeing headlines in the Brown and White, Lehigh’s student newspaper, from around the same time, that I began to appreciate the power of the project our class was creating. This project allowed me to see the trajectory of Lehigh’s transition to a coeducational institution, a transition colored by many challenges including sexism abound. These challenges are not easily visible in 2011, forty years later, so literally seeing the headlines and pictures in the archives demonstrated in a unique way the hurdles women had to overcome at Lehigh. Some women were the only girls in their classes, and all women had to overcome the stereotype of being just weekend entertainment for the male students bussed in and out on Saturdays from nearby Cedar Crest College. I have taken for granted my role as a woman on Lehigh’s campus, and this process really caused me to consider the journey that others have taken to provide me with such an opportunity.\r\n\r\nThe archives played a major role in our documentary. The images and video clips we found provided evidence of our claims about the challenges women came up against at a conservative institution transitioning to coeducation in a way which our words alone would not have done justice. Hearing about the awkward mixers held before coeducation is not as powerful as seeing pictures of wide-eyed men groping at women and the huge amounts of alcohol consumed at these mixers. Lehigh’s archives are not used nearly enough. I am embarrassed to admit that, as a first semester senior English major, I am just now getting my first taste of their value. It is my hope that our documentary project will serve as a positive example of the power that these resources can provide to our University. As these images fade further and further into the past, students have the chance to keep them alive in our contemporary work by using them in various classes and research projects. I hope that our documentary project can show the University, especially other students like me who may not have known the extent of the resources available, the value of these resources to the legacy of our institution and the appreciation of our education.','Kim Weber - Commentary','During the Fall 2011 semester, I was a part of Lehigh University’s “Theories of Masculinity” class, an upper level English and Women’s Studies course. Initially, I signed up for it because it was a prerequisite for graduating with departmental honors. As a part of this course we created a documentary film on coeducation and its effects on men and masculinity at Lehigh, which is currently celebrating the fortieth anniversary of undergraduate coeducation. My role in this film became a challenging and ultimately very rewarding part of my education at Lehigh.','inherit','open','open','','1113-revision-7','','','2012-02-12 01:55:02','2012-02-12 01:55:02','',1113,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1113-revision-7/',0,'revision','',0),(1930,10,'2012-07-24 04:14:47','2012-07-24 04:14:47','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.\r\n\r\nWhile working in Special Collections, I had often walked by large blue boxes containing scrapbooks, but I had yet to look through them. When I began leafing through the scrapbooks, I found that I learned as much about Goucher College as I did about the women who put the scrapbooks together. Many of the scrapbooks had things in common, including Valentines, pressed flowers, calling cards, and photographs. But what intrigued me most were the dance cards. I had never before encountered dance cards, or even heard of them, even though I had been dancing all my life. Many of the dance cards were from the Naval Academy, as it was a nearby school in need of women with which to dance. Goucher girls would often travel to Annapolis for the weekend dances and they brought back dance cards as souvenirs.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1275\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"510\"]<img class=\" wp-image-1275 \" title=\"goucher_student action photo_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-action-photo_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"510\" height=\"382\" /> Cassie Brand working in the former Rare Book Collection Seminar Room (December 2007) with an early Chaucer edition from Special Collections (Ed. John Urry, London: Printed for Bernard Lintot, 1721).[/caption]\r\n\r\nWhen I began researching these cards, I found very little information. I went to all of the reference librarians I could find, but even they had difficulties, because there were just very few secondary sources out there. I looked through all the etiquette books I could get my hands on and even asked people to tell me what they knew about dance cards. Those who knew of them provided me with the basic information I needed to study the cards.\r\n\r\nI contacted the Naval Academy Archives and with the help of Nancy Magnuson, Goucher College Librarian, I made an appointment to see their collection. There I found an almost complete run of dance cards from the Farewell Ball, which was held every year after graduation. Some were blank, some were filled in, some contained photographs, and some still had their tiny pencils attached. Looking through the cards, I found that they could be studied in several ways. One could examine print history, dance history, social history or even one woman’s history of dance partners. I chose to look at how the cards changed over the years because the first and last dance cards were so drastically different. What I found was that the cards changed over the years to reflect the changes in social dances.\r\n\r\nThough I have not yet returned to the dance card collections to study them further, they have never been far from my mind. I am still trying to convince people that dance cards are brilliant and should be reinstated for social events. Dance cards remain an interest of mine and I would love to eventually write their complete history.','Cassie Brand - Commentary','When I heard about English 241: Archeology of Text, I was immediately excited. I had been working in Special Collections and Archives at Goucher College for about a year and I knew the class would give me a chance to learn more about books and archives in a setting that would encourage discussions with my peers. When it came time to pick a collection for my final project, I decided to work with archival materials rather than books so that I could challenge myself.','inherit','open','open','','1051-revision-11','','','2012-07-24 04:14:47','2012-07-24 04:14:47','',1051,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1051-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1932,10,'2012-02-11 20:36:56','2012-02-11 20:36:56','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1279\" title=\"goucher_instructor image_sanders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_instructor-image_sanders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Students prepare for English 241, “Archeology of Text,” research projects in twelve weeks of readings and laboratory experiences which introduce skills necessary to work with early printed books and archival documents. (For the text of the assignment, see <a href=\"http://faculty.goucher.edu/eng241/241_individual_research_projects_F09.htm\">here</a>). The goal of these projects is to enable each student to pursue a self-designed creative or descriptive study of books, manuscripts, and other artifacts from Special Collections and Archives. Because the course is interdisciplinary and students come from many majors, it is hard to predict where students’ curiosities will take them. The best way to encourage active student engagement is prepare students for the widest range of book and document related work. Successful projects can lead to further research supported by Goucher’s Peirce Center fellowships.\r\n\r\nBeginning with study of how a digital document is constructed and the history of the Internet’s “cloud” library, students practice searching online scholarly sites such as the O.E.D., WorldCat, ESTC, and the continental library collections accessible through the University of Karlsruhe’s online catalog. They also explore using search engines and databases to identify and locate people, places, and things. Those skills provide interpretive context for hand-press books in the course’s next segment. After three weeks studying typography, format, bindings, and hand-made paper and its manufacture, students have learned the most basic descriptive bibliography skills. This enables them to describe edition-specific and copy-specific details of their “cadaver books,” a set of early printed books they have had handled each week to encourage safe and intelligent treatment of early paper and bindings. Finally, paper and parchment manuscript laboratories teach them to decipher secretary and scribal hands from the nineteenth through the thirteenth centuries. This enables them to interpret marginalia in early printed books, including owners’ inscriptions and other provenance and use evidence.\r\n\r\nSarah Kendall’s study of the Burke Austen Collection’s copy of the two-volume American first edition of Emma (Philadelphia: M. Carey, 1818) represents a creative response to traditional rare book provenance study, resulting in her discovery of a significant trove of correspondence in the book’s archival container. Before Alberta Burke brought the book to Baltimore, it had passed through the hands of Christina Broun Dalhousie (the Countess Dalhousie), the prominent collector, Frank J. Hogan, and the poet, Siegfried Sassoon. Kendall’s study demonstrates the way a book’s value changes as it moves from owner to owner, becoming as attractive for associations and rarity as it is for its text. An archives-based approach to using the course’s analytical tools is represented by Cassie Brand’s study of Naval Academy dance cards found in the scrapbook kept by Goucher student Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924), augmented by research at The Nimitz Library in Annapolis. Brand showed how the cards could be used to study crucial changes in American courtship conventions as women took control of their relations with potential suitors.\r\nThese two projects represent the course’s goal: to enable original, undergraduate, hands-on archival research using interdisciplinary skills.','Arnold Sanders - Commentary','Students prepare for English 241, “Archeology of Text,” research projects in twelve weeks of readings and laboratory experiences which introduce skills necessary to work with early printed books and archival documents. (For the text of the assignment, see\r\nhere). The goal of these projects is to enable each student to pursue a self-designed creative or descriptive study of books, manuscripts, and other artifacts from Special Collections and Archives. Because the course is interdisciplinary and students come from many majors, it is hard to predict where students’ curiosities will take them. The best way to encourage active student engagement is prepare students for the widest range of book and document related work. Successful projects can lead to further research supported by Goucher’s Peirce Center fellowships.','inherit','open','open','','1049-revision-10','','','2012-02-11 20:36:56','2012-02-11 20:36:56','',1049,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1049-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1933,10,'2012-06-27 02:36:03','2012-06-27 02:36:03','\"So, how do we bring students to our table?” That was the question a special collections librarian asked in 1999. [1] Now, in 2012, the question is no longer how: “Teaching with primary source materials is unquestionably ‘hot’ in higher education [as] authentic rare books, manuscripts, or archival documents\" appear in many undergraduate classrooms. [2]\r\n\r\nThe table is full; the effort to bring undergraduates into special collections and archives has been enormously successful. What matters now is how to turn these encounters to account. What happens in the archival laboratory, a place where students are actively involved in research, stewardship, publication, and exhibits? How do librarians, curators, archivists, instructors, and technology specialists collaborate to get such projects off the ground? How do we make use of these encounters to develop research and interpretive skills, showcase students’ findings, and learn from their discoveries? What do students report that they have gained through their archival experiences?\r\n\r\nIn this issue of “Archives, Remixed,” we present six case studies illustrating inventive solutions to these dilemmas of success. The parameters and formats of these projects demonstrate the diversity of ways to teach with primary source materials: not all of the projects take place in a classroom context (although some do); not all the student work is authored singly (although some is). Some projects involve one institution, while others involve partnerships with local organizations or other universities or colleges; some projects are more analog, others more digital; and some end when the student’s work is complete, while others continue. The projects all have historical claims, but the array of objects under consideration—architectural drawings, photographs, ancient statuary, newspaper clippings, rare books, personal mementos—speaks to many disciplines. The academic institutions where these projects originate, from a community college to liberal arts colleges to a research university, vary as much as the projects themselves.<br />\r\nEach case study focuses the work students produce in these archival encounters. On each case-study page, you will find a sample of student work accompanied by a project description; commentary on the project by the student(s); commentary from the teachers, librarians, and/or technologists who structured the projects and guided students through them; as well as links to related or additional resources.\r\n\r\nWe invite you to explore, to comment, and to use these case studies as fodder for your own research and teaching projects.\r\n\r\n[1] Allen, Susan M. “Rare Books and the College Library: Current Practices in Marrying Undergraduates to Special Collections.” Rare Books & Manuscripts Librarianship 13.2 (Spring 1999): 110-19.\r\n\r\n[2] Bahde, Anne. “Taking the Show on the Road: Special Collections Instruction in the Campus Classroom.” RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, & Cultural Heritage 12.2 (Fall 2011): 75.','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-17','','','2012-06-27 02:36:03','2012-06-27 02:36:03','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0),(1934,10,'2012-07-24 04:05:37','2012-07-24 04:05:37','','Hands-On Research with Rare Books and Ephemera ','This case study features work that two students completed in an English class at Goucher College. The course, The Archeology of Text, offers students an understanding of the social and historical frameworks for the production and consumption of text, beginning with the digital age and moving backwards in time. Students are also trained in bibliographic research skills, which they apply to objects in Goucher’s Special Collections library. These objects then become the subjects of a research paper that serves as the final course project.','inherit','open','open','','1047-revision-30','','','2012-07-24 04:05:37','2012-07-24 04:05:37','',1047,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1047-revision-30/',0,'revision','',0),(1935,10,'2012-07-24 04:06:33','2012-07-24 04:06:33','In a world of etiquette and formality, dance cards quickly became indispensable to young women in search of dancing partners. They were a manifestation of etiquette, used to keep social order and help their users follow protocol. Though dance cards are rarely used now, the study of these cards gives a lot of insight into the societies and groups that used them.\r\n\r\nLists of etiquette books remain from all different periods, instructing men and women how to act in each particular circumstance. Dancing claims a large portion of many of these books, as it was considered an elegant pastime and a way to judge one\'s character. Dancing was a sign of culture and social class, as the upper class had formal dance training while they were young.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1341\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1341\" title=\"goucher_student work image3_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image3_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"761\" /> Scrapbook page showing in situ location of the U. S. Naval Academy June 2, 1921 Farewell Ball dance card with other balls\' cards, press clippings, trolley ticket stubs, and other memorabilia from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).[/caption]\r\n\r\nThe dance card furthered one\'s enjoyment of dancing, as it allowed young women to know who they would dance with; they never needed to worry about procuring a partner for the following dance, because he had already signed her card. A practice known as “dating ahead” became quite common as young women began filling out their dance cards in advance of the evening, to ensure that they would not be without a partner. Many women worried about not being asked to dance, as the most beautiful, best dancers were constantly engaged on the dance floor; the women without partners were often looked down on and pitied. Young women feared not having a partner for every dance, and having a dance card allowed them to make sure they would be busy dancing the entire night.\r\n\r\nDance cards also provided women with a way to gracefully decline a dance invitation. Johnson points out, “a lady must not decline the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she is previously engaged, or does not intend to dance any more during the evening” (79). Having a dance card allowed women to fill out their card with men who they would prefer to dance with, and it also allowed them to gracefully decline a dance by saying her card is full, even though this may not be true.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nIt was also a way for young women to remember her engagements:\r\n\r\nIn the etiquette of the ballroom young ladies should be very careful to keep their promises to their various partners. Little books are furnished as memorizers, and the same honor is imperative here as in greater things. (American Code of Manners 43)\r\n\r\nThe dance card acted as a reminder of who she was supposed to dance with for each dance, which helped with confusion in promising multiple dances. The dance card also allowed a convenient excuse when a woman accidentally promised the same dance to two men; she could simply claim that her “programme had got into such a state of confusion” and refrain from offending either party involved (Aldrich 113). After the ball has ended, the dance card can serve as a memento of the event, “Each dance is entered on the program—and many a delightful memory is kept alive by glancing at these names days after the dance is held” (Eichler 97). In this way, the card acts as a reminder both at the ball and after the ball is finished.\r\n\r\nDance cards were predominantly used before the 20th century, but certain groups upheld tradition and used them much longer. As Eichler points out in 1922, “The dance program is rarely used now except at college dances, or army and navy dances. It has lost prestige with the passing of the old fashioned ball” (97).\r\n\r\nThe Archives and Special Collections at the United States Naval Academy holds an extensive collection of cards from many different events. The Academy, with its emphasis on tradition, used dance cards at their Winter Hops, the Ring Dance and the Farewell Ball into the 1960s. The USNA Archives provides a wonderful example of the evolution of the dance card, through the cards they have from the Farewell Ball, spanning from 1893 to 1976.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1344\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1344\" title=\"goucher_student work image2_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image2_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"932\" /> Sample dance card page with partners for five dances filled in, from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).[/caption]\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nThe earliest dance card in the collection is from The Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1893 , donated by Mrs. Elizabeth Galt Welles (13 x 8.5 cm). The card is bound by a ribbon bow on the top vertical edge, with heavy cardstock covers in an ivory color. The cover simply states the dance and date in black ink with gold embellishments. The half-inch wide ribbon is long enough for the card to be carried on a lady’s wrist and holds a small pencil 7 cm in length. Inside the cover were 2 pages containing the list of dances with the song titles and composers. The card had not been filled out by its owner. The simple design creates an elegant card, following the guidelines for cards set by The Ballroom Guide published in the 1860s: “modern taste is inclined to favour plain and chaste designs rather than florid” (Aldrich 117). The contents of the card show that the emphasis of the card was on the order of dances, without much information about the ball.\r\n\r\nUnfortunately, the Academy does not have any cards from the balls in between 1893 and 1906, but the card from the 1906 Farewell Ball provides a beautiful example of a dance card. Donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, the card is 10 x 7.5 cm with a tan leather cover. The cover has two inside pockets and a strap to attach the card to a woman’s wrist. Inside, the card contains three bifolia with much more decoration than the 1893 card. The card begins with a title page, which announces the name, date, and location of the ball. Following the title page are three pages of dances with spaces for 25 dances. For the first two pages of dances, each recto side holds a space for eight dances and on the verso is an illumination of a woman in an evening gown and a woman in a Navy coat and cover, respectively. The third page lists nine dances on the recto side and lists the committee of midshipmen who planned the ball on the verso. After these there are two blank pages with the word “Autographs” printed at the top of each page. This card—also not filled out—demonstrates the shift in focusing on only the dances to a larger focus on the card as a decorative souvenir.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball card from June 5th, 1908 donated by Mary McCarthy is the first in the collection filled out by its original owner. The last names of eight different men are written in pen with a beautiful cursive hand next to the dances. Ms. McCarthy danced 17 of the 25 dances listed and most of them were two steps and waltz, which were especially popular at the time. This card is much like the 1906 card, with a section listing the committee members and blank pages for autographs. Measuring 10 x 7.5 cm, the dark brown suede cover has a Naval Academy insignia blindly stamped in the center, with a dark brown cord and pockets inside the cover. The inside was printed with brown ink and tissue paper protected the pictures from transfer.\r\n\r\nIn 1909, the Farewell Ball dance card, donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, remained much the same. The 10.5 x 8 cm card had a navy blue vinyl cover with pockets inside to hold pictures and gold tooling for decoration. The inside contained the order of dances—not filled out—a supper list, and a committee list. The illustrations were in black and white with a small bit of red as an accent.\r\n\r\nAlso donated by Mrs. Bradford Bartlett, the Farewell Ball, June 3rd 1910 dance card had a dark grey leather cover with a silver cord (10 x 7 cm). A blind tooled ship decorated the front, and white paint accented the moon and water. Inside, black and white illustrations were accented with the use of yellow, red, blue and green and were protected by tissue paper. The order of dances was filled out in sloppy cursive hand in pencil. The autograph section, however, was left blank.\r\n\r\nThe example from the Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1911 provided the most intricate cover. Measuring 11 x 6.5 cm while closed, the tan suede cover folds three times, containing extra pockets. Inside the front cover is one pocket and the small booklet of paper, the back cover extends to twice the front cover’s length, folding in on itself. The right side of the cover has a simple pocket, while the middle of the cover has a more complex pocket. The pocket is vertically arranged, with a flap that closes by inserting the narrow point of the flap into a loop. Naval Academy insignia is stamped onto the inner pockets of the cover. The dance card was attached to the lady’s wrist by a dark brown leather strap, which still holds an 8 cm pencil. Inside contains a title page, pictures with color accents, the committee list, a section for autographs and the order of dances, which is not filled out.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball, June 6th 1919 dance card has a navy blue vinyl cover with blind stamped Naval Academy insignia and date and a blue and yellow cord (10 x 8 cm). The inside contains a title page and the dances listed verso and spaces to fill out engagements listed recto. The card is not filled out and is decorated with black and white illustrations.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nBound vertically in a brown leather cover, the Farewell Ball June 3rd 1920 dance card measures 11 x 7.5 cm. The cover is blind stamped with blue and yellow cords. After the order of dances, there is a calendar from June 1920 to May 1921. The months are listed two at a time, with large pictures above them. The stiff cardstock paper has gilt edges.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball June 2nd 1921 dance card has a significantly different cover than the previous cards. The simple 9 x 6.5 cm white cardstock cover has a full color illustration on the cover with an embossed gold Naval Academy insignia. Previously, the covers were made of a more expensive material—usually leather or vinyl. This was the first ball held in Dahlgren Hall, one of the social buildings on the Naval Academy yard. The dances are listed 3 on a page, with no names of the songs, only the types of dances. The dances are not filled out. Next to the type of dance is a space labeled “meet under” and beneath the dances is a space for memories. There is also a different quote at the bottom of each page.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1343\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1343\" title=\"goucher_student work image1_brand\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/goucher_student-work-image1_brand.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"814\" /> Front cover of the U. S. Naval Academy dance card for the June 2, 1921 Farewell Ball, from the scrapbook of Mary Lee Keith (Class of 1924).[/caption]\r\n\r\nSimilarly, the Farewell Ball June 2nd 1922 dance card has a white cardstock cover with a color illustration (from Keith Scrapbook, Goucher College Library). The 9 x 6.5 cm cover includes blind stamping and a blue and yellow cord. The layout is very much like the 1921 card, containing a list of dances, with a “meet under” space and space below for memories. This card, however, does not have quotes at the bottom of each page. At the end, there is a committee list. The card is filled out with black pen, and in the “meet under” section, flags are drawn with pen and colored. The ball was held in Dahlgren Hall, like the 1921 card also containing a “meet under” section. Dahlgren Hall is lined with flags on either side of the long, rectangular building. The “meet under” space allowed the women to draw in the flag and know exactly where she was to meet her next dancing partner. This aided even more in making sure that the women had a dance partner for every dance; it ensured that she would always be able to find her intended dance partner even in the crowded room. It is also possible that an escort would fill out the card in advance for his date with the illustrations of flags in order to ensure she danced the night away.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nIn 1923, the Academy went back to the leather cover for the Farewell Ball dance card. The cover is Navy blue with a gold tooled insignia, with inside pockets (11 x 8.5 cm). The recto pocket had a clear cut out to hold a photograph. For decoration, there are pictures that are whimsical in nature with tissue paper to protect the pictures from transfer. The dances are filled out in immaculately print black pen with flags drawn and colored next to last names.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball dance card from 1925 has a silver cardstock cover with a picture of the Naval Academy Chapel dome in different shades of blue. Measuring 9.5 x 6.5 cm, the card contains the order of dances and a “meet under” space, but there is no room to record memories or a committee list like in the 1921, 1922, and 1923 cards. The card is filled out in pen with a shaky hand and the flags are drawn and colored next to the names. On the inside cover recto is a hand drawn cartoon of a midshipman.\r\n\r\nThere is a gap until 1942, when the collection resumes with the Farewell Ball, June 18th 1942. It has a white leather cover with stamping and gold accents, measuring 10 x 7.5 cm. The inside is printed in blue and it can be attached to a woman’s wrist by the yellow cord. The card contains a title page and committee list, names the orchestra, and announces that Mrs. John R. Beardall is receiving. The order of dances is filled out in two different shades of blue pen and each name is written in a different style of hand. This indicates another use for the dance card. A woman can hand her card to whoever asks her to dance and have him write in his name. This is very useful, especially if the woman has forgotten his name and can look on the card for a reminder.\r\n\r\nLike the 1942 card, the Farewell Ball, June 5th 1945 card was printed with blue ink and has a yellow cord. The 10 x 7.5 cm card has a dark blue faux leather cover with stamping and gold accents. The inside lists who was receiving, the hostesses, committee members and the orchestra. The dances, which are not filled out, are numbered, but there is no information as to what dance or what song each number will be. This shows the diminishing importance of the dances on the dance card.\r\n\r\nSimilarly, the Farewell Ball, May 31st 1956 dance card only lists numbers for the dances. This 10 x 7.5 cm card has an off-white cardstock cover with blue ink and an off-white cord. Inside, it lists the title page, orchestra, the woman receiving and the hostesses. It also lists the committee list for both the Farewell Ball and for the other hops held throughout the year. It ends with a quote, “Three cheers for/ those who are about/ to leave us—/ Three cheers for/ those we leave behind/ us—” This quote becomes a standard addition to each following card.\r\n\r\nThe card from the Farewell Ball, June 2nd 1959 is much the same as the 1956 card. The 10 x 7.5 cm card has a gold cardstock cover with blue wording and a silhouette of a dancing couple. The cord is also blue. The card lists the orchestra, the woman receiving, the hostesses and the program of dances—numbers only, no types of dances or names of songs. Two of the dances are filled out and the others were left blank. After the dances the card lists the Farewell Ball committee and the Hop committee, which organizes the smaller dances throughout the year. It concludes with the Three Cheers quote found in the 1956 card.\r\n\r\nThe cards from the Farewell Balls in 1964, 1965 and 1966 have almost identical contents, with different covers. The 1964 card is 10.5 x 7.5 cm with a white cardstock cover with blue ink and gold embossing and a blue cord. The 1965 card is 11.5 x 9 cm. It has a light blue cover with black embossing and a dark blue cord. The 1966 card measures 11.5 x 9 cm with a light blue cardstock cover with navy blue ink and a navy blue cord. All the cards contain a title page and list the orchestra, woman receiving, officer representative, social director and hostesses. None of the cards are filled out and they are stapled at the fold.\r\n\r\nWith each consecutive card, the changes are minimal. The 1967 and 1968 Farewell Ball dance cards are exactly the same, with a different date. They are both 11.5 x 9 cm and their covers are light blue with black ink and a blue cord. Neither card is filled out.\r\n\r\n<!--nextpage-->\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball June 3rd 1969 card provides a very interesting look at the evolution of the dance card. Very similar to the previous cards, it measures 11.5 x 9cm and lists the title page, orchestra, woman receiving, officer representative, social director, hostesses and committees. It has a white cardstock cover with blue ink and a blue cord. It also includes the Navy “Blue and Gold” song. What it doesn’t include, however, is a program of dances or even a space to write down dance partners. The point of this card is to provide a souvenir of the dance and provide information about it, but it no longer serves a way for women to write down the names of their partners.\r\n\r\nThe cards from 1970, 1971 and 1972 are the same as the 1969 card. However, the 1971 card contains one change: the midshipman’s oath appears after the title page. The all have white cardstock covers, 11.5 x 9 cm, with navy blue ink and navy blue cords.\r\n\r\nThe Farewell Ball, June 4th 1974 card presents another interesting change in the evolution of the dance card. The card no longer has a cord. The 11 x 9 cm card has a white cardstock cover with blue ink, but no cord with which a lady could attach it to her wrist. The cards from the 1975 and 1976 Farewell Balls have all the same internal elements, but measure 13 x 9 cm with a light blue cardstock cover printed in dark blue ink.\r\n\r\nThe progression of the Naval Academy Farewell Ball dance cards shows the decreased emphasis on dance and the move from the dance card as a reminder of the gentleman a woman had promised to dance with to a souvenir and program for the ball. The earlier dance cards contain little information about the ball itself; they focus on the dances, listing the order, the type of dance and the name of the song. Slowly, information is added to the card. In the 1920s, there was a place to write down memories and draw the flag under which the two would meet. These additions keep the focus on the dancing and the use of the dance card as a reminder and as a memento. In the 1940s, the cards begin to list the woman receiving, the committee who planned the ball and other information not directly related to the dancing. Also, the dances are no longer identified by type or name, they are simply numbered. This shows another step away from the focus on dancing. At this stage, the cord also becomes purely decorative. The cords attached to these cards aren’t long enough to secure around a woman’s wrist; they simply add a bit of decoration to the card. By the 1969 and into the 1970s, the dance cards no longer provide space to write the dances. They have transformed into souvenirs from the ball, giving information about the ball and incorporating quotes, song lyrics and lists of the people involved.\r\n<h5>Works Cited</h5>\r\nAldrich, Elizabeth. <em>From the Ballroom to Hell: Grace and Folly in Nineteenth-Century Dance</em>. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1991.\r\n\r\n<em>The American Code of Manners: a study of the usages, laws and observances which govern intercourse in the best social circles, and of the principles which underlie them</em>. New York: W. R. Andrews, 1880\r\n\r\nEichler, Lillian. <em>Book of Etiquette</em>. Oyster Bay: Nelson Doubleday Inc., 1922\r\n\r\nJohnson, Sophia Orne. <em>A Manual of Etiquette, with Hints on Politeness and Good Breeding</em>. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1885.\r\n\r\nGoucher College, Special Collections and Archives. Scrapbook Collection, Mary Lee Keith. Farewell Ball Dance Card, 1922.\r\n\r\nThe Nimitz Library, United States Naval Academy, Special Collections and Archives. Student Life, Dance Card Collection.','My Card Is Full: The Evolution of the Farewell Ball Dance Cards ','In a world of etiquette and formality, dance cards quickly became indispensable to young women in search of dancing partners. They were a manifestation of etiquette, used to keep social order and help their users follow protocol. Though dance cards are rarely used now, the study of these cards gives a lot of insight into the societies and groups that used them.\r\n\r\nLists of etiquette books remain from all different periods, instructing men and women how to act in each particular circumstance. Dancing claims a large portion of many of these books, as it was considered an elegant pastime and a way to judge one\'s character. Dancing was a sign of culture and social class, as the upper class had formal dance training while they were young.','inherit','open','open','','1326-revision-31','','','2012-07-24 04:06:33','2012-07-24 04:06:33','',1326,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1326-revision-31/',0,'revision','',0),(1937,10,'2012-05-28 18:12:40','2012-05-28 18:12:40','[caption id=\"attachment_1258\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The Gado 2 Robotic Scanner scanning photos at the Afro.\"]<a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1258\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 1_gado\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-1_gado.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1259\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\" caption=\"The East Baltimore Oral History Player, showing the index entry for a resident whose story Tom Smith helped to document and record.\"]<a href=\"http://eboh.jhu.edu/oralhistoryplayer\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1259\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 2_eboh\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-2_eboh.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"667\" /></a>[/caption]','Student-Built Archival Tools','This case study focuses on a student who contributed much more than expected to digital projects by creating two archival tools: a web application for an oral history archive and a low-cost robotic scanner for paper-based materials. In a practicum course at Johns Hopkins University, Tom Smith and his peers worked on recording and organizing oral histories. Smith also developed an audio player for the digital archive. This work brought him in contact with the <a href=\"http://magazine.jhu.edu/2011/11/unboxing-history/\" target=\"_blank\">Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project</a> (DPAAP) and led Smith to invent another tool: the <a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\" target=\"_blank\">Gado scanner</a>. This powerful, durable robotic scanner digitizes sensitive archival materials and can be built using simple components for less than $500.','inherit','open','open','','1057-revision-18','','','2012-05-28 18:12:40','2012-05-28 18:12:40','',1057,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1057-revision-18/',0,'revision','',0),(1939,10,'2012-02-11 20:15:19','2012-02-11 20:15:19','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1244\" title=\"jhu_student photo_smith\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-photo_smith.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />When people think of Johns Hopkins University, they think of medicine. And rightly so; JHU prepares people for medical school better than any college in the world. The medical attitude, however, permeates beyond the bounded world of pre-meds. Hopkins often values the reductionism of the scientific method and the cleanliness of the lab over holism and real-world, big-picture thinking. In looking for classes during my sophomore year at JHU, then, I was surprised to find The Power of Place taught by Melanie Shell-Weiss. The course was a practicum, and all participants would conduct oral histories as part of the East Baltimore Oral History Project (EBOH). This was a rare chance to get out of the infamous “Hopkins Bubble.” I signed up.\r\n\r\nDuring Power of Place, I helped produce several oral histories. As interviews flowed in, however, I began to see a problem. Each interview was around two hours long, and included a full transcript. From my class alone, the project would amass nearly thirty hours of audio and several hundred pages of text. Making use of those materials would be tough. As a software developer, I saw a solution. I imagined a tool which could link transcripts with audio, allow people to tag important areas within interviews, and make all the EBOH materials searchable. With support from the University, I spent the next year working with Professor Shell-Weiss to make my idea into a working web-application.\r\n\r\nWhile working on EBOH, I started visiting archives. I could find few digital images of East Baltimore, and I wanted to know why. On a visit to the Afro American Newspaper with Moira Hinderer, I found a plethora of visual materials. Very few, however, had been digitized. The main factor was cost; resources to manually digitize the Afro’s collection simply weren’t available. Again, I saw a technical solution. I would build a robot. I proposed creating an automatic scanner which could lift and digitize the Afro’s sensitive artifacts, all for less than $500. No one at JHU thought it would happen. Luckily, Professor Shell-Weiss managed to raise some small funds, and I spent a summer prototyping. The result was the Gado 1, a proof-of-concept which would later scan over 1,000 images at the Afro. The price tag? $496.\r\n\r\nAfter graduating from JHU in May 2011, I wanted to continue refining my technology. With support from the JHU Sheridan Libraries and the Abell Foundation (a regional grantsmaker), I secured enough funding to work on my project full-time. In December 2011, I completed the Gado 2, a second generation machine which dramatically outpaces the original. Since testing began, my machine has digitized over 3,000 artifacts at the Afro, at a tiny fraction of the cost of manual scanning. In February 2012, we will make these images available to the general public, and launch GadoImages.com in order to distribute them to paying licensors. I believe Gado has the potential to dramatically alter the economics of archival digitization. And I would never be at this point without that first push to step outside the classroom and start thinking in broader terms.','Tom Smith - Commentary','When people think of Johns Hopkins University, they think of medicine. And rightly so; JHU prepares people for medical school better than any college in the world. The medical attitude, however, permeates beyond the bounded world of pre-meds. Hopkins often values the reductionism of the scientific method and the cleanliness of the lab over holism and real-world, big-picture thinking. In looking for classes during my sophomore year at JHU, then, I was surprised to find The Power of Place taught by Melanie Shell-Weiss. The course was a practicum, and all participants would conduct oral histories as part of the East Baltimore Oral History Project (EBOH). This was a rare chance to get out of the infamous “Hopkins Bubble.” I signed up.','inherit','open','open','','1059-revision-11','','','2012-02-11 20:15:19','2012-02-11 20:15:19','',1059,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1059-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1940,10,'2012-02-11 20:15:50','2012-02-11 20:15:50','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1247\" title=\"jhu_teacher photo_hinderer\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_teacher-photo_hinderer.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Over the last four years, I have worked as a lecturer teaching courses about Baltimore and African American history, and I have also served as project manager for the Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project (DPAAP), a partnership between Johns Hopkins University and the Afro-American Newspapers funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. These experiences have shown me that students learn best when they are not simply taught history, but when they also act as historians. Baltimore offers both possibilities and challenges for students doing historical projects. Much of the city’s history remains unwritten, and historical materials are often tucked away in small archives and private homes. Records that are not easily accessible present a special problem for students who are constrained by time and transportation. Both the East Baltimore Oral History Project and the Afro Archives partnership seek to address these challenges by involving students in the process of uncovering, describing, and making accessible historical records, and then encouraging students to use these resources for historical research.\r\n\r\nThe East Baltimore History Project involves students in the work of preserving the memories of established members of the East Baltimore community. For students this work addresses a major complaint about life as a Johns Hopkins undergraduate—that students are too removed from the life of the city, and that students are not encouraged to interact with the city, and its inhabitants, in meaningful ways. The interviewing process has the additional benefit of making students experts, allowing them to bring a substantive point of view and body of evidence as they critique course readings and engage in class discussions. As interviews are added to the project website, students produce an accessible community history resource that will last well beyond the usual semester long class project.\r\n\r\nDPAAP also depends heavily on the work of student archival interns, and on the technical skills of the current and former students who form the Project Gado team led by recent Hopkins graduate Tom Smith. Archival interns have been involved in every step of uncovering the archives, from labeling boxes and shelves, to entering information into our archival database, to writing essays for our database website. This work has given interns a perspective on African American history usually reserved only for history professionals. With materials pertaining to almost every local, national, and international aspect of Black history, interns are often asked to describe the central themes and narratives residing of this diverse archives. This challenge requires them to address the problem of twentieth century information overload familiar to both historians and archivists. The Project Gado team offers a different set of solutions to the problem of preserving and making accessible vast amounts of archival materials. The members of Project Gado are involved in innovative work in the digital humanities as they create low-cost options for large scale digitization. The work of Tom Smith and Project Gado suggests another possibility for hands-on coursework in history, courses that would integrate technical skills and the creation of hardware and software into a rigorous humanities education to prepare students to be 21st century humanities scholars.','Moira Hinderer - Commentary','Over the last four years, I have worked as a lecturer teaching courses about Baltimore and African American history, and I have also served as project manager for the Diaspora Pathways Archival Access Project (DPAAP), a partnership between Johns Hopkins University and the Afro-American Newspapers funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. These experiences have shown me that students learn best when they are not simply taught history, but when they also act as historians. Baltimore offers both possibilities and challenges for students doing historical projects. Much of the city’s history remains unwritten, and historical materials are often tucked away in small archives and private homes. Records that are not easily accessible present a special problem for students who are constrained by time and transportation. Both the East Baltimore Oral History Project and the Afro Archives partnership seek to address these challenges by involving students in the process of uncovering, describing, and making accessible historical records, and then encouraging students to use these resources for historical research.','inherit','open','open','','1062-revision-13','','','2012-02-11 20:15:50','2012-02-11 20:15:50','',1062,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1062-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1941,10,'2012-07-27 07:09:00','2012-07-27 07:09:00','\"So, how do we bring students to our table?” That was the question a special collections librarian asked in 1999. [1] Now, in 2012, the question is no longer how: “Teaching with primary source materials is unquestionably ‘hot’ in higher education [as] authentic rare books, manuscripts, or archival documents\" appear in many undergraduate classrooms. [2]\r\n\r\nThe table is full; the effort to bring undergraduates into special collections and archives has been enormously successful. What matters now is how to turn these encounters to account. What happens in the archival laboratory, a place where students are actively involved in research, stewardship, publication, and exhibits? How do librarians, curators, archivists, instructors, and technology specialists collaborate to get such projects off the ground? How do we make use of these encounters to develop research and interpretive skills, showcase students’ findings, and learn from their discoveries? What do students report that they have gained through their archival experiences?\r\n\r\nIn this issue of “Archives, Remixed,” we present six case studies illustrating inventive solutions to these dilemmas of success. The parameters and formats of these projects demonstrate the diversity of ways to teach with primary source materials: not all of the projects take place in a classroom context (although some do); not all the student work is authored singly (although some is). Some projects involve one institution, while others involve partnerships with local organizations or other universities or colleges; some projects are more analog, others more digital; and some end when the student’s work is complete, while others continue. The projects all have historical claims, but the array of objects under consideration—architectural drawings, photographs, ancient statuary, newspaper clippings, rare books, personal mementos—speaks to many disciplines. The academic institutions where these projects originate, from a community college to liberal arts colleges to a research university, vary as much as the projects themselves.\r\nEach case study focuses the work students produce in these archival encounters. On each case-study page, you will find a sample of student work accompanied by a project description; commentary on the project by the student(s); commentary from the teachers, librarians, and/or technologists who structured the projects and guided students through them; as well as links to related or additional resources.\r\n\r\nWe invite you to explore, to comment, and to use these case studies as fodder for your own research and teaching projects.\r\n\r\n[1] Allen, Susan M. “Rare Books and the College Library: Current Practices in Marrying Undergraduates to Special Collections.” Rare Books &amp; Manuscripts Librarianship 13.2 (Spring 1999): 110-19.\r\n\r\n[2] Bahde, Anne. “Taking the Show on the Road: Special Collections Instruction in the Campus Classroom.” RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, &amp; Cultural Heritage 12.2 (Fall 2011): 75.','Student Project Case Studies','','inherit','open','open','','1711-revision-18','','','2012-07-27 07:09:00','2012-07-27 07:09:00','',1711,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1711-revision-18/',0,'revision','',0),(1942,10,'2012-07-24 04:21:59','2012-07-24 04:21:59','[caption id=\"attachment_1368\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"386\"]<a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1368\" title=\"cscc_student work_sample material\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-work_sample-material.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"386\" height=\"640\" /></a> Image of James A. Bible (c. 1860) from the Ramsey Family Papers (MS 81). Saunders worked on this image for the SETDA. Used by permission of Cleveland Public Library.[/caption]','History Lab: Combining Service Learning, Research Methods, and Digital Archives ','This case study features the work of a student who took History Lab, an introductory history and service-learning course at Cleveland State Community College (CSCC). He researched individual items from a local cultural heritage organization that were then digitized, described, and published online in the <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive</a> (SETDA). \r\n\r\nMatthew Saunders\' work ended up in the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive. You can find the whole archive <a href=\"http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>, and the items Saunders contributed <a href=\"http://csccdigital.cdmhost.com/cdm/singleitem/collection/p4024coll8/id/216\" target=\"_blank\">here</a>.','inherit','open','open','','1018-revision-22','','','2012-07-24 04:21:59','2012-07-24 04:21:59','',1018,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1018-revision-22/',0,'revision','',0),(1943,10,'2012-07-24 04:23:38','2012-07-24 04:23:38','[caption id=\"attachment_1367\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1367\" title=\"cscc_student action photo_saunders\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/cscc_student-action-photo_saunders.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /> Matthew Saunders exploring the Ramsey Family Papers at CPLHB. Photo credit: Sarah Copeland.[/caption]\r\n\r\nI was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.\r\n\r\nFew history majors would turn down the opportunity to go beyond lecture courses and work directly with historical documents, but I never expected a two-year college to offer me this opportunity. The History Laboratory allowed me to gain hands-on experience preserving important records of local history. Moreover the History Lab transformed how I research. I had to learn to use a library because the most relevant research material was not accessible online. It took a while to get into the groove of picking up a book and reading through the text as opposed to using a search engine to gather information. Using physical books to research will be an invaluable experience that I will be able to take with me through my future courses and career.\r\n\r\nAnother new experience was the archiving section of the class in which we digitized photographs and organized the research in a way that would be coherent on the SETDA website. As students we are accustomed to elaborating and expanding upon our research to produce an essay. The archiving section of the course instead forced me to condense my findings into a few concise sentences. The term “metadata” was foreign to me before this class, so working my research into that format was not the easiest task. Entering metadata into ContentDM was a challenge. Nevertheless, this exercise has helped me to convey my thoughts more clearly in other classes.\r\n\r\nOverall the History Laboratory was a great experience. I had wanted to add some constructive criticism, but after reflecting on my experience I cannot think of any suggestions. The instructors were terrific and the course of study was refreshing. I would recommend this course to history students or any student who is searching for an experience other that goes beyond a classroom lecture.','Matthew E. Saunders - Commentary','I was one of the first students to take the History Laboratory at Cleveland State Community College. My previous experience during an extra credit activity in a traditional history course initially sparked my interest. During an American History survey course Mr. Reed, the CSCC instructor who founded the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive, offered students a chance to digitize historical photographs. He demonstrated how to research a photograph\'s history, starting with the limited information written on the back and clues within the picture itself. I was eager to enroll in a course that was dedicated to digitizing historical photographs.','inherit','open','open','','1040-revision-16','','','2012-07-24 04:23:38','2012-07-24 04:23:38','',1040,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1040-revision-16/',0,'revision','',0),(1944,10,'2012-02-12 00:54:37','2012-02-12 00:54:37','Cleveland State Community College (CSCC), a small two-year college in southeast Tennessee, offers freshman and sophomore students a service-learning course as an introduction to research in archives. In this course, called the History Laboratory, students assist local cultural heritage institutions with digitizing collections and publishing them on the web. As of spring 2012, students have completed service-learning hours at the Cleveland Bradley County Public Library History Branch, the Museum Center at 5ive Points, and the Polk County Historical and Genealogical Society Library. These local archives and museums benefit from increased access to their collections, and CSCC history students gain experience with handling and researching primary sources.\r\n\r\nSeveral developments led the Department of History and the Library to collaborate on the creation of the History Laboratory. The college’s administrators recently encouraged instructors of every discipline, including the humanities, to develop content-appropriate service-learning courses to promote student engagement. Moreover, the history curriculum at CSCC emphasizes the central role of primary sources in historical analysis, even in research projects assigned in introductory courses. A history instructor, Bryan Reed, realized that his students could access a rich learning experience if they contributed to a regional digitization project, the <a href=\" http://www.clevelandstatecc.edu/setda/\">Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive</a>. Thus, Reed and I developed a service-learning history course where students assist local archives, museums, and historical societies that lack staff to digitize their collections.\r\n\r\nAs the primary instructor, I oversee the classroom content of the course, which is informed by my training in both history and information science (MA, History; MS, Information Science). The need of a historian to understand primary sources – where they are found and how they are curated – shapes the goal of the course. Information science – including philosophy of archives, digitization, and creating metadata – shapes the course activities. Reed serves as the local history expert, assisting students with research in obscure local publications.\r\nBecause the History Laboratory’s target audience is freshman and sophomore history majors, the course is very basic. The primary goal is to expose students to the cultural heritage institution’s role as curator of artifacts. At the archive I introduce students to the archivist, collections, finding aids, and additional tools for discovering information about a collection. After this introduction to cultural heritage institutions, we discuss the historian’s role as interpreter of artifacts. This discussion is often the students’ initiation to the “historian’s craft”: assembling a narrative, interpreting facts, and determining significance.\r\n\r\nThe learning outcomes for the History Laboratory are similarly basic. By the end of the course, we expect students to demonstrate appropriate handling of unique historical materials, to create digital surrogates of assigned primary documents, to research these primary documents using relevant resources (in paper and electronic formats), and to organize and present their findings in the Southeast Tennessee Digital Archive (SETDA) using a simple content management system (CONTENTdm). The last learning outcome – creating and entering metadata – may seem out of place in a history course. Nevertheless, we felt it was essential for students to complete this step: it gives them the opportunity to digest their research, consider their audience(s), and share their findings. This process empowers students to take on the role of expert.\r\n\r\nAfter two pilot semesters, the History Laboratory is now an officially sanctioned course in the history curriculum at Cleveland State Community College. Former students have indicated that the course was a valuable first introduction to archives and their importance for historical research. In the future, we look forward to requiring this service-learning experience for all CSCC history majors. Although we believe that the History Laboratory offers an unparalleled initiation to archival research, we look forward to hearing whether our graduates’ experiences remain relevant as they continue their academic careers.','Sarah Shippy Copeland - Commentary','Cleveland State Community College (CSCC), a small two-year college in southeast Tennessee, offers freshman and sophomore students a service-learning course as an introduction to research in archives. In this course, called the History Laboratory, students assist local cultural heritage institutions with digitizing collections and publishing them on the web. As of spring 2012, students have completed service-learning hours at the Cleveland Bradley County Public Library History Branch, the Museum Center at 5ive Points, and the Polk County Historical and Genealogical Society Library. These local archives and museums benefit from increased access to their collections, and CSCC history students gain experience with handling and researching primary sources.','inherit','open','open','','1027-revision-9','','','2012-02-12 00:54:37','2012-02-12 00:54:37','',1027,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1027-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(1945,10,'2012-07-24 04:31:18','2012-07-24 04:31:18','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1378\" title=\"lehigh_student head shot_weber\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_student-head-shot_weber.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />During the Fall 2011 semester, I was a part of Lehigh University’s “Theories of Masculinity” class, an upper level English and Women’s Studies course. Initially, I signed up for it because it was a prerequisite for graduating with departmental honors. As a part of this course we created a documentary film on coeducation and its effects on men and masculinity at Lehigh, which is currently celebrating the fortieth anniversary of undergraduate coeducation. My role in this film became a challenging and ultimately very rewarding part of my education at Lehigh.\r\n\r\nCreating the film required extensive use of Lehigh University’s Special Collections. As someone with no familiarity with the process of researching in the archives, I was unaware of the extensive time and effort such an undertaking required. Yet, it was through delving into the pages and pages of yearbook photos from the late 60’s and early 70’s, and seeing headlines in the Brown and White, Lehigh’s student newspaper, from around the same time, that I began to appreciate the power of the project our class was creating. This project allowed me to see the trajectory of Lehigh’s transition to a coeducational institution, a transition colored by many challenges including sexism abound. These challenges are not easily visible in 2011, forty years later, so literally seeing the headlines and pictures in the archives demonstrated in a unique way the hurdles women had to overcome at Lehigh. Some women were the only girls in their classes, and all women had to overcome the stereotype of being just weekend entertainment for the male students bussed in and out on Saturdays from nearby Cedar Crest College. I have taken for granted my role as a woman on Lehigh’s campus, and this process really caused me to consider the journey that others have taken to provide me with such an opportunity.\r\n\r\nThe archives played a major role in our documentary. The images and video clips we found provided evidence of our claims about the challenges women came up against at a conservative institution transitioning to coeducation in a way which our words alone would not have done justice. Hearing about the awkward mixers held before coeducation is not as powerful as seeing pictures of wide-eyed men groping at women and the huge amounts of alcohol consumed at these mixers. Lehigh’s archives are not used nearly enough. I am embarrassed to admit that, as a first semester senior English major, I am just now getting my first taste of their value. It is my hope that our documentary project will serve as a positive example of the power that these resources can provide to our University. As these images fade further and further into the past, students have the chance to keep them alive in our contemporary work by using them in various classes and research projects. I hope that our documentary project can show the University, especially other students like me who may not have known the extent of the resources available, the value of these resources to the legacy of our institution and the appreciation of our education.','Kim Weber - Commentary','During the Fall 2011 semester, I was a part of Lehigh University’s “Theories of Masculinity” class, an upper level English and Women’s Studies course. Initially, I signed up for it because it was a prerequisite for graduating with departmental honors. As a part of this course we created a documentary film on coeducation and its effects on men and masculinity at Lehigh, which is currently celebrating the fortieth anniversary of undergraduate coeducation. My role in this film became a challenging and ultimately very rewarding part of my education at Lehigh.','inherit','open','open','','1113-revision-8','','','2012-07-24 04:31:18','2012-07-24 04:31:18','',1113,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1113-revision-8/',0,'revision','',0),(1946,10,'2012-07-23 22:50:10','2012-07-23 22:50:10','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1374\" title=\"lehigh_instructor head shot_kramp\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_instructor-head-shot_kramp.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />My Fall 2011 English and Women’s Studies upper-level undergraduate class, “Theories of Masculinity” was designed to coordinate with the 40th anniversary of undergraduate women at Lehigh University. A major component of this course was a student-produced documentary film that considers the effects of co-education on men and masculinity at Lehigh. This film project provided my students with an opportunity to examine critically Lehigh’s institutional history, focusing on the late 1960s and early 1970s. While it was not my initial intention, I was extremely pleased by the students’ abilities to research and study their own school’s history. They made extensive use of Lehigh’s Archives and Special Collections to collect numerous articles, documents, and perhaps most importantly, photographs, and they incorporated these materials into the different sections of the film (see Figures 1-6). Students discovered several cultural texts from the 1960s and 1970s that portrayed Lehigh as a haven for privileged masculinity—a sphere in which men appeared largely ignorant of the volatile Civil Rights Movement and the emergent mid-century Women’s Movement. And yet, my students’ research also revealed that the Lehigh community of this era was also clearly cognizant of impending social changes. As my students tracked this tension between the ossification of male hegemony and the certainty of coming shifts, they developed a newfound appreciation for the importance of institutional history to the present operations of a university.\r\n\r\nThe prominence of Greek Life was certainly one such feature of this legacy. Two of the four segments of the film addressed the role of fraternities and Greek social life, including the final section that focused on men and masculinity in Lehigh’s contemporary culture. The students who explored Lehigh’s mid-century Greek culture found ample textual evidence of its importance, including photographs, yearbook coverage, and film footage. When these members of my course interviewed alumni from the 1960s and 1970s, these men reported that Greek Life had waned significantly in the years following coeducation; but when other students spoke with current male and female students, these individuals emphasized the enduring importance of Fraternities and Sororities to the culture of Lehigh. In addition, the group of filmmakers who focused on the period prior to coeducation highlighted the ways in which women were brought to campus for Saturday evening social events such as dances; my students interviewed several alumni who commented on the awkwardness of such activities, for both the men and the women. They even include a telling newspaper story in which Cedar Crest College, a small women’s college in nearby Allentown, is referenced as a bordello of the Lehigh Valley (see Figure 1). The student filmmakers who covered the years immediately following coeducation also treated the clumsiness of men’s interactions with women; they point to challenges in managing facilities and planning building construction, developing female athletics, and integrating women into extra-curricular clubs and organizations, such as the marching band. The group of filmmakers who treated contemporary conceptions of masculinity within the Lehigh community, not surprisingly, makes explicit reference to the enduring legacy of sexual inequality and the perceived intellectual inferiority of women. They cited recent newspaper accounts on persistent gender inequities on campus, and conduct numerous interviews on the topic. While it may very well have been unintentional, these students never interviewed a male and female subject together; instead, they consistently showed pairs of male students, suggesting the extant homosocial culture of Lehigh.\r\n\r\nI wanted my students to engage the history and culture of Lehigh through film technology because it provided them with an opportunity to artistically synthesize a variety of different kinds of texts (i.e. photos, newspaper articles, found film footage, interviews, etc.). The film medium also allowed my students to share their work within public forums, respond to questions and concerns, and discuss their own research and artistic strategies. In effect, the film project allowed my students to contribute to the very institutional history of Lehigh University they were researching. The archival work completed by my students for this film has effectively introduced them to both the depths of information housed in Lehigh’s Special Collections and the profound relevance of institutional history to their own educational experiences. As I reflect upon the experience, there is no doubt in my mind that the most important single component of this process was done long before this class started—the cataloguing and digitization of the university newspaper and annual yearbooks made such a classroom project possible. The film has allowed students, faculty, and alumni to look back into the past of Lehigh, and while this project has undoubtedly opened some uncomfortable topics and discussions, it has also reminded current and former member of the Lehigh community of their shared history.','Michael Kramp - Commentary','My Fall 2011 English and Women’s Studies upper-level undergraduate class, “Theories of Masculinity” was designed to coordinate with the 40th anniversary of undergraduate women at Lehigh University. A major component of this course was a student-produced documentary film that considers the effects of co-education on men and masculinity at Lehigh. This film project provided my students with an opportunity to examine critically Lehigh’s institutional history, focusing on the late 1960s and early 1970s.','inherit','open','open','','1110-revision-8','','','2012-07-23 22:50:10','2012-07-23 22:50:10','',1110,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1110-revision-8/',0,'revision','',0),(1947,10,'2012-07-23 21:23:21','2012-07-23 21:23:21','<p><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1380\" title=\"lehigh_support head shot_maserjian\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_support-head-shot_maserjian.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />I’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories – digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling is the use of computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.</p>\r\n<p>In the fall of 2005 I had the pleasure of working with English Professor Ed Gallagher in an experimental, first-year writing course, “Digital Songs, Stories, and Histories” that offered students new ways of communicating through a variety of multi-media assignments. For one assignment, the students were asked to develop a video based on a research question they developed from materials they found in Lehigh’s Digital Library I Remain: A Digital Archive of Letters, Manuscripts, and Ephemera project. The site contains hundreds of items from the University’s Special Collections and Archives that represent five centuries of writers, explorers, scientists, philosophers, and politicians.<br />\r\nThe students were asked to select a document from the site that piqued their curiosity, transcribe that document, formulate a historical question, develop a thesis, select materials that would support that thesis, and produce a video based on these efforts. The vast majority of the students embraced the archival and technological challenge. The results appear on the I Remain site.</p>\r\n<p>In order to understand the content development and technological challenges faced by our students, I delved into my family archives and produced a short personal video story about my father. I was amazed at the ability of this process to challenge and change my perspective on the past. Cathartic is the only way I can describe my experience. Clearly smitten with this medium, the following year I taught a course for the history department, Digital History and Video. This class had a mix of undergraduate and graduate students who were also asked to explore the archival materials on the I Remain site. They were asked to perform many of the same assignments as the previous class but were, as the course level dictated, asked to be even more rigorous in their research. The students wrote a footnoted essay about their document(s), and then converted their research essay into a script to include narration and accompanying visuals.</p>\r\n<p>One of the Digital History students – a senior with a double major in history and education – discovered a treasure trove of primary sources when she came upon a scrapbook of memorabilia related to the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. The scrapbook was compiled by American boundary commissioner, Rhode Island secretary of state, historian and author, John R. Bartlett. Using many of the images in the scrapbook, she constructed a seven-minute video about the assassination of President Lincoln and the effect of his death on the country. Rather than address a scholarly audience in her production, she chose to produce a documentary with a general audience in mind and, through her narration and accompanying voice-over collaborations with faculty and fellow classmates, her storytelling choices are clearly directed toward that audience. Initially intimidated by the use of new technology, this student was pleased that she was able to face the challenge and learn a new skill that would help her in her career in elementary education.</p>\r\n<p>Since these initial forays into student-produced documentary, I am pleased to say that this form of communication is alive and well at Lehigh University. With the growth in the number of requests for video projects, Library and Technology Services formed the Documentary Resource Team. The Team is comprised of librarians, instructional technologists, and media specialists who help faculty and students navigate the opportunities and challenges of video production. In many of these classes physical and virtual archives are extensively used in research and image selection. With the opportunities of archival discovery also come the challenges of representing findings.<br />\r\nThe materials we uncover in archives and the way we choose to use them has provoked an ongoing series of questions about copyright, research methodology and documentary ethics. Regardless of event (long ago or yesterday) or individual (living or dead), the lessons our students learn about their obligations in representing the lives of others is an important one. What is at stake when, as digital storytellers, we document the experience of others? What happens when those experiences move beyond the confines of the classroom and become part of a larger audience at public screenings or on the web? The questions of authority, privacy, responsibility, and moral obligations are good ones with no easy answers. Luckily, as educators, we are not in the business of easy answers.</p>\r\n','Julia Maserjian - Commentary','I’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories – digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling is the use of computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.','inherit','open','open','','1116-revision-5','','','2012-07-23 21:23:21','2012-07-23 21:23:21','',1116,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1116-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(1948,10,'2012-04-23 17:12:39','2012-04-23 17:12:39','[slideshow]','Lehigh - Archival Materials','','inherit','open','open','','1387-revision-29','','','2012-04-23 17:12:39','2012-04-23 17:12:39','',1387,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1387-revision-29/',0,'revision','',0),(1949,10,'2012-05-28 18:14:57','2012-05-28 18:14:57','[caption id=\"attachment_957\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"James (Jimmy) Barnett using a Betterlight Super 8k-HS camera back and custom mount configuration to digitize John Carrère and Thomas Hastings’ “Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church, St. Augustine, Fla.” c. 1889-1890. Photo credit: Joe Kaleita, University of Florida Libraries.\"]<img class=\"size-large wp-image-957\" title=\"uf_student  action photo_barnett 3\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-action-photo_barnett-3-1024x682.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_958\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"John Carrère and Thomas Hastings. “Part Plan of Fourth Floor. Architectural drawings of the Hotel Ponce de Leon, St. Augustine, Florida.” 96”x40”.\"]<a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00089836/00001\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-958\" title=\"Part Plan of Fourth Floor\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-work_image-2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_959\" align=\"alignright\" width=\"638\" caption=\"An example of the results of Barnett’s work digitizing and preserving a large-scale architectural drawing. John Carrère and Thomas Hastings. “Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church, St. Augustine, Fla.” c. 1889-1890.\"]<a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082657/00001\" target=\"_blank\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-959\" title=\"Ground Plan, Presbyterian Church\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_student-work_image-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" /></a>[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe images above are a small fraction of the materials made available through the project and Jimmy\'s work. The full range can be seen in the <a href=\"http://ufdc.ufl.edu/caha/all\" target=\"_blank\">Carrère &amp; Hastings Digital Collection</a>, part of the University of Florida Digital Collections. You can read more at the project blog: <a href=\"http://flaglerdrawings.wordpress.com/\" target=\"_blank\">flaglerdrawings.wordpress.com</a>.','Digitizing Large-Format Architectural Plans','This case study showcases an undergraduate’s work as the lead digital scanner of architectural drawings for the Carrère & Hastings Digital Collection, a collaborative project between the University of Florida (UF) and Flagler College to conserve and digitally preserve the large and fragile drawings. For years the drawings were stored in a basement boiler room and suffered from exposure to high Florida temperatures, humidity, insects, and rodents. The collection is now under the care of a team of faculty, staff, and students from the UF’s Special Collections, Conservation Unit, and Digital Library Center.','inherit','open','open','','946-revision-40','','','2012-05-28 18:14:57','2012-05-28 18:14:57','',946,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/946-revision-40/',0,'revision','',0),(1950,10,'2012-02-14 07:14:06','2012-02-14 07:14:06','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-977\" title=\"uf_leader headshot_nemmers\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/uf_leader-headshot_nemmers.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"75\" height=\"100\" />In 2010, Flagler College and the University of Florida (UF) were awarded a <em>Save America’s Treasures</em> grant by the National Endowment for the Humanities to preserve and provide access to architectural drawings for the National Historic Landmark Hotel Ponce de Leon (1885-1887) and the Memorial Presbyterian Church (1889-1890) in St. Augustine, Florida. During this two-year project, the UF Smathers Libraries is conserving and digitizing an irreplaceable collection of the earliest architectural drawings of the Carrère &amp;Hastings firm. The drawings were created for the oil and railroad tycoon Henry Flagler beginning in the 1880s, but the majority of the drawings subsequently had been “lost” for decades. The few people who knew of their existence were unaware of their historical significance, and the drawings remained stored for years in a boiler room under high Florida temperatures and humidity, and exposed to insects and rodents.\r\n\r\nThis treasure trove remained unknown and endangered until its rediscovery in 2004 at Flagler College. To ensure that the drawings are protected and accessible to researchers, the drawings were deposited in 2005 in the UF Architecture Archives, a unit of Special &amp; Area Studies Collections. Comprised of over 260 fragile objects, the St. Augustine collection includes original drawings on cloth, silk and paper, and a variety of blueprints, diazotypes, and other reproductions. Sizes range from 8 x 8 inches to over 4 x 8 feet. Many of the drawings could not be unrolled or handled because they were literally crumbling on the shelves, and it is very likely that some of these drawings had not been unrolled since they were last used in the 1890s. The grant funding has enabled UF to hire personnel and supplies to properly conserve and digitize all of the drawings.\r\n\r\nThe UF Digital Library Center (DLC) has an excellent track record employing students to digitize materials in all formats and conditions. One undergraduate student, Jimmy Barnett, already had experience digitizing architectural drawings in the DLC, so we were happy to hire him as the imaging technician for this project. We knew that we could trust Jimmy to handle the items properly during imaging, which is crucial since many of the drawings are in extremely poor condition and are over eight feet long. Moreover, with his background and coursework in art we were confident that Jimmy could appreciate the drawings as cultural objects and be sensitive to the techniques and media used to produce the drawings. Our trust was well-placed and Jimmy has been an exemplary steward of the drawings placed temporarily in his custody.\r\n\r\nIn planning for this project, there was no hesitation about employing an undergraduate student to work with fragile drawings. The archivists and curators in Special Collections have long relied on undergraduate students to assist with processing, research, and outreach activities. We offer an internship course through the History Department, and we have had great success retaining former interns as either paid employees or volunteers. We are able to maintain a pool of highly-trained, motivated assistants, and the students gain practical experience working with historical records. Several of these students have gone on to pursue archives, library, or public history Master’s degrees. But regardless of their educational and career paths, we have found that many undergraduate students truly appreciate the value of cultural heritage materials and many, such as Jimmy, can be trusted to treat them with the care they require.','John Nemmers - Commentary','In 2010, Flagler College and the University of Florida (UF) were awarded a <i>Save America’s Treasures</i> grant by the National Endowment for the Humanities to preserve and provide access to architectural drawings for the National Historic Landmark Hotel Ponce de Leon (1885-1887) and the Memorial Presbyterian Church (1889-1890) in St. Augustine, Florida. During this two-year project, the UF Smathers Libraries is conserving and digitizing an irreplaceable collection of the earliest architectural drawings of the Carrère &Hastings firm. The drawings were created for the oil and railroad tycoon Henry Flagler beginning in the 1880s, but the majority of the drawings subsequently had been “lost” for decades. The few people who knew of their existence were unaware of their historical significance, and the drawings remained stored for years in a boiler room under high Florida temperatures and humidity, and exposed to insects and rodents.','inherit','open','open','','976-revision-9','','','2012-02-14 07:14:06','2012-02-14 07:14:06','',976,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/976-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(1954,10,'2012-02-11 20:57:52','2012-02-11 20:57:52','[caption id=\"attachment_1193\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"640\" caption=\"Joan Tkcas (on far right, in brown) and Casket with Scenes of Romances, ivory and bone with modern iron mounts (French, 1330-1350).\"]<img class=\"size-full wp-image-1193\" title=\"walters_student action photo_tkacs\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/walters_student-action-photo_tkacs.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"426\" />[/caption]\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe the sorts of work you did in developing your Google Earth presentation on this object. (You might consider both the unique forms of research involved and modes/methods of interpretation.)</strong>\r\n\r\nI researched two objects for this project, a painted tile and an ivory casket. The Walters had a thorough record of the objects’ provenances, so the bulk of my time was spent uncovering details about the lives and tastes of their previous owners. It was important to me to understand why they found the objects interesting enough to purchase. If the owners were art collectors, I tried finding other objects in their collections to get a sense of their taste. From there, it was a matter of organizing the object’s history into a simple and compelling narrative.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What did you learn from this project that distinguished it from other academic courses?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe credit line that you see on the typical museum label does not do justice to the histories of these objects. For example, the ivory casket I researched was made in the fourteenth century and was probably meant to function as a jewelry box, but one of its later owners took the individual panels of the case apart and framed them. He was looking at the casket in a completely different way than we do now. I didn’t know this before I started the project, and the research gave me a new appreciation for just how dynamic these objects are.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What was it like to be creating a final project that would be presented to the public?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe Google Earth project was a lesson in learning how to write concisely. You would spend a semester researching the history of a given object. The temptation is to then write a long-winded report on all that you had discovered, but very few people would be interested in reading something like that, I think. It’s a little bit harder to boil down everything that you’ve learned into something punchy and informative.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What did you learn from working in a professional museum and in conjunction with its staff?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe Walters’ staff was incredibly giving of their time. We met with the museum director, the curator of Asian art, and the curator of manuscripts. We got to look at the museum’s storage, and learned about what art museums take into consideration when accessioning works of art. What I remember best was getting to meet with a member of the museum’s education department and getting feedback on what we had written for the project so far. That kind of collaboration was incredibly helpful.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What did this course/project and the opportunity to work with museum objects and their archival records mean to your education? your future plans? your general interests?</strong>\r\n\r\nThe Google Earth project was a first for me. In other classes, I may have had to research a single object for a paper, but I had never focused solely on an object’s provenance. This project proved to be a very worthwhile experience for me. Right now, I’m an intern at the Georgia Museum of Art, and I spend a lot of my time working with the archival materials of the museum’s Pierre Daura Study Center. I don’t know if I would have had this opportunity without my experience working on the Google Earth project at the Walters.','Joan Tkacs - Commentary','I researched two objects for this project, a painted tile and an ivory casket. The Walters had a thorough record of the objects’ provenances, so the bulk of my time was spent uncovering details about the lives and tastes of their previous owners. It was important to me to understand why they found the objects interesting enough to purchase. If the owners were art collectors, I tried finding other objects in their collections to get a sense of their taste. From there, it was a matter of organizing the object’s history into a simple and compelling narrative.','inherit','open','open','','1126-revision-6','','','2012-02-11 20:57:52','2012-02-11 20:57:52','',1126,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1126-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(1955,10,'2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1220\" title=\"rodini\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/rodini.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&amp;S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.\r\n\r\nIn our syllabus for this course, Ben Tilghman and I asked: Why bother with such an exercise? Our answer: “To share what we are learning with the public. This is a fundamental task of museums . . . in this course we extended that mission to the undergraduate classroom.” Universities suffer from their remove from the broader community, and humanistic disciplines, without clear “practical” applications, are particularly at risk from this sort of isolation and perceived irrelevance. On the other hand, archives, museums, and other collections with a public face are places where humanistic research can be made available, accessible, and meaningful.\r\n\r\nAlthough historians are familiar with the sub-field of public history, other disciplines have not developed the potential for outreach in such a direct, institutionalized way. It is hard to imagine the awarding of a degree in, say, public art history. But in this class our students were taking on that very role, the role of curators presenting research through a lively interactive tool with broad dissemination.\r\n\r\nIn developing their object itineraries for the Walters and Google Earth, students had to consider both the historical narrative they were tracing and the matter of presenting it to the public. What information would be accessible? How could they both engage and challenge their audience? How would they balance the nuanced elements of their story with the broader theoretical issues at stake in the project? What is lost in the task of producing highly condensed text—and what might be gained?\r\n\r\nIn all of our museum-based practicum courses, we face the challenge of fitting student work into an established institutional frame. Classrooms are messy places where ideas are tested and debated. Despite our best efforts, the many young voices we work with over the semester may not easily gel into the perfect, marketable whole that modern museums require. Our students carefully crafted their texts, which were then polished to a sheen by Walters professionals; they constructed imaginative itineraries that we honed to fit a simpler, more streamlined model.\r\n\r\nIf it seems like the nature of university research (independent, serendipitous, evolving) cannot quite square with museum exhibitions (corporate, formal, fixed), there is nevertheless much to be gained from encouraging their intersection—for students, audiences, and collections, and for universities as well. University humanities made more public are also more relevant, appreciated, and valued.','Elizabeth Rodini - Commentary','“Material Migrations,” like many of the practicum courses offered in the Program in Museums and Society, gave students the chance to engage directly with objects, conduct research in and around those materials and, most distinctively, develop a final project to be shared with a general audience. M&S practicum projects take the form of exhibitions both actual and virtual, interpretative materials (such as audio tours, gallery guides, and websites), and program development. I like to think of them as works of “public humanities”—ways of sharing the research we do in the university with a larger audience.','inherit','open','open','','1132-revision-8','','','2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','',1132,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1132-revision-8/',0,'revision','',0),(1956,10,'2012-02-11 20:41:13','2012-02-11 20:41:13','<em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em>\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe your role in this project.</strong>\r\n\r\nI work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspect of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided student tour creation.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nInitially we had to find a program that would be freely available (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. Google Earth was selected since it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth and is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made place markers as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s place marks. After those two resources were set, a well-written and comprehensible workflow had to be created. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express the actions that needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nI met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially for the project’s requirements gathering, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. A colleague of mine from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by email to answer questions as they came up, especially during the approval process of the workflow, as it needed to be as simple to follow as possible. I also held a training workshop with Professor Rodini for the students. I continued to be available for questions by email as the students worked on their projects.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project required that every place mark on a tour should include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master but customizing the appearance of the place marks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their place marks, they simply copied the content from a Word document then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. That code was then pasted into their Google Earth place mark, circumventing the need for the students to learn HTML.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future?</strong>\r\n\r\nA more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without necessitating the use of Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing realizing that Google Earth didn’t have an HMTL editor built in and at the time there wasn’t an application that suited our needs. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available that would allow students to create tours, focusing on the content rather than the technology. If not then perhaps we will have time to build one ourselves and share it.','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspect of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided student tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-8','','','2012-02-11 20:41:13','2012-02-11 20:41:13','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-8/',0,'revision','',0),(1957,10,'2012-07-27 10:07:17','2012-07-27 10:07:17','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1973\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon1.png\" alt=\"Amazon Dowdle\" title=\"amazon\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1973\" /></a>','Walters - Amazon Dowdle','','publish','open','open','','walters-amazon-dowdle','','','2012-10-15 23:06:43','2012-10-15 23:06:43','',0,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/?p=1957',5,'post','',0),(1959,10,'2012-07-27 10:04:43','2012-07-27 10:04:43','','Amazon Tour','','inherit','open','open','','amazon','','','2012-07-27 10:04:43','2012-07-27 10:04:43','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon.png',0,'attachment','image/png',0),(1960,10,'2012-07-27 10:06:59','2012-07-27 10:06:59','<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/?attachment_id=1959\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1959\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon-333x221.png\" alt=\"Amazon Tour\" title=\"Amazon Tour\" width=\"333\" height=\"221\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1959\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon D','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision','','','2012-07-27 10:06:59','2012-07-27 10:06:59','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision/',0,'revision','',0),(1961,10,'2012-07-27 10:07:17','2012-07-27 10:07:17','<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/?attachment_id=1959\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1959\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon-333x221.png\" alt=\"Amazon Tour\" title=\"Amazon Tour\" width=\"333\" height=\"221\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1959\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon D','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-2','','','2012-07-27 10:07:17','2012-07-27 10:07:17','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1964,10,'2012-07-27 10:24:08','2012-07-27 10:24:08','<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/archives-remixed/walter-amazon-d/attachment/amazon-2/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1973\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon1.png\" alt=\"Amazon Dowdle\" title=\"amazon\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1973\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon Dawdle','','inherit','open','open','','1957-autosave','','','2012-07-27 10:24:08','2012-07-27 10:24:08','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1962,10,'2012-06-27 02:42:08','2012-06-27 02:42:08','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','This case study features work from <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>, which was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the Program in Museums and Society at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009.  Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project.  The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.  Students in the course researched the histories of objects in the museum’s collection and created Google Maps tracing their history.  Three students share their work in this case study.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-50','','','2012-06-27 02:42:08','2012-06-27 02:42:08','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-50/',0,'revision','',0),(1963,10,'2012-07-27 10:07:17','2012-07-27 10:07:17','<a href=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/archives-remixed/walter-amazon-d/attachment/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1959\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon-333x221.png\" alt=\"Amazon Tour\" title=\"Amazon Tour\" width=\"333\" height=\"221\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1959\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon D','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-3','','','2012-07-27 10:07:17','2012-07-27 10:07:17','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1965,10,'2012-07-27 10:10:30','2012-07-27 10:10:30','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1959\"><img class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1959\" title=\"Amazon Tour\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon-333x221.png\" alt=\"Amazon Tour\" width=\"666\" height=\"442\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon D','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-4','','','2012-07-27 10:10:30','2012-07-27 10:10:30','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(1966,10,'2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','<div id=\"map3d_dowdle\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Amazon Dowdle','','inherit','open','open','','1209-revision-15','','','2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','',1209,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1209-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1967,10,'2012-07-27 10:20:10','2012-07-27 10:20:10','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/casket/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1970\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/casket1.png\" alt=\"Romances Casket\" title=\"casket\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1970\" /></a>','Walters - Romances Casket Tkacs','','publish','open','open','','walters-romances-casket-tkacs','','','2012-10-15 23:06:43','2012-10-15 23:06:43','',0,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/?p=1967',4,'post','',0),(1968,10,'2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','<div id=\"map3d_tkacs\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Romances Casket Tkacs','','inherit','open','open','','1205-revision-17','','','2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','',1205,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1205-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0),(1969,10,'2012-07-27 10:16:55','2012-07-27 10:16:55','','casket','','inherit','open','open','','casket','','','2012-07-27 10:16:55','2012-07-27 10:16:55','',1967,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/casket.png',0,'attachment','image/png',0),(1970,10,'2012-07-27 10:18:49','2012-07-27 10:18:49','','casket','','inherit','open','open','','casket-2','','','2012-07-27 10:18:49','2012-07-27 10:18:49','',1967,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/casket1.png',0,'attachment','image/png',0),(1971,10,'2012-07-27 10:18:31','2012-07-27 10:18:31','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/casket/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1969\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/casket-333x220.png\" alt=\"Romances Casket \" title=\"casket\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1969\" /></a>','Walters - Romances Casket Tkacs ','','inherit','open','open','','1967-revision','','','2012-07-27 10:18:31','2012-07-27 10:18:31','',1967,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1967-revision/',0,'revision','',0),(1972,10,'2012-07-27 10:08:34','2012-07-27 10:08:34','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','This case study features work from <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>, which was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the Program in Museums and Society at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009.  Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project.  The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.  Students in the course researched the histories of objects in the museum’s collection and created Google Maps tracing their history.  Three students share their work in this case study.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-51','','','2012-07-27 10:08:34','2012-07-27 10:08:34','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-51/',0,'revision','',0),(1973,10,'2012-07-27 10:22:30','2012-07-27 10:22:30','','amazon','','inherit','open','open','','amazon-2','','','2012-07-27 10:22:30','2012-07-27 10:22:30','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon1.png',0,'attachment','image/png',0),(1974,10,'2012-07-27 10:14:09','2012-07-27 10:14:09','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/amazon/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1959\"><img class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1959\" title=\"Amazon Tour\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/amazon-333x221.png\" alt=\"Amazon Tour\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" /></a>','Walter - Amazon D','','inherit','open','open','','1957-revision-5','','','2012-07-27 10:14:09','2012-07-27 10:14:09','',1957,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1957-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(1975,10,'2012-07-27 10:28:20','2012-07-27 10:28:20','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/beaupre/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1977\"><img class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1977\" title=\"beaupre\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/beaupre.png\" alt=\"Beaupre\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" /></a>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','publish','open','open','','walters-beaupre-devos','','','2012-10-15 23:06:43','2012-10-15 23:06:43','',0,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/?p=1975',3,'post','',0),(1976,10,'2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','<div id=\"map3d_devos\"></div>\r\n<div class=\"small light\">Installed Plugin Version: <span id=\"installed-plugin-version\" style=\"font-weight: bold;\">Loading...</span></div>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','inherit','open','open','','1200-revision-18','','','2012-06-27 02:37:59','2012-06-27 02:37:59','',1200,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1200-revision-18/',0,'revision','',0),(1977,10,'2012-07-27 10:26:37','2012-07-27 10:26:37','','beaupre','','inherit','open','open','','beaupre','','','2012-07-27 10:26:37','2012-07-27 10:26:37','',1975,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/beaupre.png',0,'attachment','image/png',0),(1978,10,'2012-07-27 10:27:29','2012-07-27 10:27:29','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/beaupre/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1977\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/beaupre.png\" alt=\"Beaupre\" title=\"beaupre\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1977\" /></a>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','inherit','open','open','','1975-revision','','','2012-07-27 10:27:29','2012-07-27 10:27:29','',1975,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1975-revision/',0,'revision','',0),(1979,10,'2012-07-27 10:21:24','2012-07-27 10:21:24','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','This case study features work from <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>, which was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the Program in Museums and Society at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009.  Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project.  The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.  Students in the course researched the histories of objects in the museum’s collection and created Google Maps tracing their history.  Three students share their work in this case study.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-52','','','2012-07-27 10:21:24','2012-07-27 10:21:24','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-52/',0,'revision','',0),(1981,10,'2012-07-27 10:34:33','2012-07-27 10:34:33','[caption id=\"attachment_1258\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<a href=\"http://projectgado.org/\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1258\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 1_gado\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-1_gado.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /></a> The Gado 2 Robotic Scanner scanning photos at the <em>Afro-American Newspapers</em> archive.[/caption]\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_1259\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"638\"]<a href=\"http://eboh.jhu.edu/oralhistoryplayer\"><img class=\"size-full wp-image-1259\" title=\"jhu_student project photo 2_eboh\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-project-photo-2_eboh.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"638\" height=\"478\" /></a> The East Baltimore Oral History Player showing the index entry for a resident whose story Tom Smith helped to document and record.[/caption]','Student-Built Archival Tools','This case study focuses on two archival tools designed by Tom Smith, a Cognitive Science and Anthropology major who graduated in 2011: a web application for an oral history archive and a low-cost robotic scanner for paper-based materials.','inherit','open','open','','1057-revision-20','','','2012-07-27 10:34:33','2012-07-27 10:34:33','',1057,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1057-revision-20/',0,'revision','',0),(1982,10,'2012-07-27 07:57:26','2012-07-27 07:57:26','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1244\" title=\"jhu_student photo_smith\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/jhu_student-photo_smith.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />When people think of Johns Hopkins University they think of medicine, and rightly so. JHU prepares people for medical school better than any college in the world. The medical attitude, however, extends beyond the bounded world of pre-meds. Hopkins often values the reductionism of the scientific method and the cleanliness of the lab over holism and real-world, big-picture thinking. In looking for classes during my sophomore year at JHU, then, I was surprised to find The Power of Place taught by Melanie Shell-Weiss. The course was a practicum, and all participants would conduct oral histories as part of the East Baltimore Oral History Project (EBOH). This was a rare chance to get out of the infamous “Hopkins Bubble.” I signed up.\r\n\r\nDuring Power of Place I helped produce several oral histories. As interviews flowed in, however, I began to see a problem. Each interview was around two hours long and included a full transcript. From my class alone, the project would amass nearly thirty hours of audio and several hundred pages of text. Making use of those materials would be tough. As a software developer, I saw a solution. I imagined a tool that could link transcripts with audio, allow people to tag important areas within interviews, and make all the EBOH materials searchable. With support from the university, I spent the next year working with Professor Shell-Weiss to make my idea into a working web application.\r\n\r\nWhile working on EBOH, I started visiting archives. I could find few digital images of East Baltimore, and I wanted to know why. On a trip to the <em>Afro-American Newspapers</em> with Moira Hinderer, I found a plethora of visual materials. Very few, however, had been digitized. The main factor was cost; resources to manually digitize the <em>Afro</em> collection simply were not available. Again, I saw a technical solution: I would build a robot. I proposed creating an automatic scanner that could lift and digitize the <em>Afro</em>’s sensitive artifacts, all for less than $500. No one at JHU thought it would happen. Luckily, Professor Shell-Weiss managed to raise some funds, and I spent a summer prototyping. The result was the Gado 1, a proof-of-concept that would later scan over 1,000 images at the <em>Afro</em>. The price tag was $496.\r\n\r\nAfter graduating from JHU in May 2011, I wanted to continue refining my technology. With support from the JHU Sheridan Libraries and the Abell Foundation (a regional grantsmaker), I secured enough funding to work on my project full time. In December 2011, I completed the Gado 2, a second-generation machine that dramatically outpaces the original. Since testing began, my machine has digitized over 3,000 artifacts at the <em>Afro</em>, at a tiny fraction of the cost of manual scanning. In February 2012, we made these images available to the general public and launched GadoImages.com to distribute them to paying licensors. I believe Gado has the potential to dramatically alter the economics of archival digitization. I would never be at this point without that first push to step outside the classroom and start thinking in broader terms.','Tom Smith - Commentary','When people think of Johns Hopkins University they think of medicine, and rightly so. JHU prepares people for medical school better than any college in the world. The medical attitude, however, extends beyond the bounded world of pre-meds. Hopkins often values the reductionism of the scientific method and the cleanliness of the lab over holism and real-world, big-picture thinking. In looking for classes during my sophomore year at JHU, then, I was surprised to find The Power of Place taught by Melanie Shell-Weiss. The course was a practicum, and all participants would conduct oral histories as part of the East Baltimore Oral History Project (EBOH). This was a rare chance to get out of the infamous “Hopkins Bubble.” I signed up.','inherit','open','open','','1059-revision-12','','','2012-07-27 07:57:26','2012-07-27 07:57:26','',1059,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1059-revision-12/',0,'revision','',0),(1983,10,'2012-05-28 18:12:06','2012-05-28 18:12:06','','Archival Materials into Documentary Film','Students in an English and Women’s Studies undergraduate course at Lehigh University used materials from Lehigh’s Special Collections and University Archives to create a documentary film. The students used these archival resources, along with interviews and other research, to tell a chapter of their own institution’s history, focusing on issues of gender and masculinity as Lehigh went from all-male to coed in 1971.','inherit','open','open','','1108-revision-15','','','2012-05-28 18:12:06','2012-05-28 18:12:06','',1108,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1108-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(1984,10,'2012-07-27 08:42:06','2012-07-27 08:42:06','<img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1380\" title=\"lehigh_support head shot_maserjian\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/lehigh_support-head-shot_maserjian.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />\r\n\r\nI’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories—digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling uses computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.\r\n\r\nIn the fall of 2005 I had the pleasure of working with English professor Ed Gallagher in an experimental, first-year writing course, “Digital Songs, Stories, and Histories,” that offered students new ways to communicate through a variety of multi-media assignments. For one assignment the students were asked to create a video based on a research question they developed from materials they found in Lehigh’s Digital Library project, <a href=\"http://digital.lib.lehigh.edu/remain/con/digwriting.html\">I Remain: A Digital Archive of Letters, Manuscripts, and Ephemera</a>. The site contains hundreds of items from the university’s Special Collections and Archives that represent five centuries of writers, explorers, scientists, philosophers, and politicians.\r\n\r\nThe students were asked to select a document from the site that piqued their curiosity, transcribe that document, formulate a historical question, develop a thesis, select materials that would support that thesis, and produce a video based on those efforts. The vast majority of the students embraced the archival and technological challenge. The results appear on the <em>I Remain</em> site.\r\n\r\nIn order to understand the content development and technological challenges our students faced, I delved into my family archives and produced a short personal video story about my father. I was amazed at the ability of this process to challenge and change my perspective on the past. Cathartic is the only way I can describe my experience. Clearly smitten with this medium, the following year I taught a course for the History Department, Digital History and Video. This class had a mix of undergraduate and graduate students who were also asked to explore the archival materials on the <em>I Remain</em> site. They had to perform many of the same assignments as the previous class did, but, as the course level dictated, they had to be even more rigorous in their research. The students wrote a footnoted essay about their document(s), and then converted their research essay into a script to include narration and accompanying visuals.\r\n\r\nOne of the Digital History students, a senior with a double major in history and education, discovered a treasure trove of primary sources when she came upon a scrapbook of memorabilia related to the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. The scrapbook was compiled by American boundary commissioner, Rhode Island Secretary of State, historian, and author John R. Bartlett. Using many of the images in the scrapbook, she constructed a seven-minute video about the assassination of President Lincoln and the effect his death had on the country. Rather than address a scholarly audience in her production, she chose to produce a documentary with a general audience in mind. The storytelling choices she made in her narration and accompanying voice-over collaborations with faculty and fellow classmates are clearly directed toward that general audience. Though initially intimidated by the use of new technology, this student was pleased that she was able to face the challenge and learn a new skill that would help her in her career in elementary education.\r\n\r\nSince these initial forays into student-produced documentary, I am pleased to say that this form of communication is alive and well at Lehigh University. As the number of requests for video projects grew, Library and Technology Services formed the Documentary Resource Team. The Team is comprised of librarians, instructional technologists, and media specialists who help faculty and students navigate the opportunities and challenges of video production. In many of these classes, students use physical and virtual archives extensively in their research and image selection. With the opportunities of archival discovery also come the challenges of representing findings.\r\n\r\nThe materials we uncover in archives and the way we choose to use them has provoked an ongoing series of questions about copyright, research methodology, and documentary ethics. Regardless of the event (long ago or yesterday) or the individual (living or dead), the lessons our students learn about their obligations in representing the lives of others are important ones. What is at stake when, as digital storytellers, we document the experience of others? What happens when those experiences move beyond the confines of the classroom and become part of a larger audience at public screenings or on the web? The questions of authority, privacy, responsibility, and moral obligations are good ones with no easy answers. Luckily, as educators, we are not in the business of easy answers.','Julia Maserjian - Commentary','I’d like to tell you a story, one about a series of experiences that changed the way I work with students and faculty at Lehigh. In fact, the story is about stories—digital storytelling, to be exact. Digital storytelling uses computer-based still and moving images, text, audio, and music to document experiences, ideas, and research.','inherit','open','open','','1116-revision-6','','','2012-07-27 08:42:06','2012-07-27 08:42:06','',1116,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1116-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(1985,19,'2012-02-16 20:31:07','2012-02-16 20:31:07','Oh my, this is a hard one to answer. Without intending to sound unbearably sappy, there are nearly too many moments of success for me to count! My favorite moments are those that come outside the seminar—when a student makes a connection between what we’ve been discussing and what another class of hers is doing, when a professor tells me that a former student has been teaching them all to pay attention to the textual history of a poem they’re reading, or when a former student sends me an email to point out a newspaper article about books they found interesting. All those moments mean that the lessons they’ve learned in our seminar are living on for them in other contexts.\r\n\r\nOther favorite moments have been when students have found something out about a book that is news to the Library’s catalogers. Given how tremendous the Folger catalogers are, that’s a hard one to do! But, for instance, one student was working on <em>The essayes of a prentise</em>, a book that had been written by King James in 1594, when he was James VI of Scotland and not yet James I of England. The student’s reading of the book was that it was deeply embedded in James as a Scottish monarch and an aspirant to the English throne, especially since the book was bound as a presentation copy to Lord Burghley. But the catalog record for the book, following standard name authority rules, listed the author as James I. Given the student’s research, however, the book’s record now includes a notes clarifying the nature of James’s title when it was written. (You can see a blog post I wrote about the book and this issue <a href=\"http://sarahwerner.net/blog/index.php/2009/09/essayes-of-a-prentise/\">here</a>; the catalog record for it is <a href=\"http://shakespeare.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=163210\">here</a>.)\r\n\r\nAnother student was working on James Smith’s <em>The generall historie of Virginia</em> (1624) and was struck by its odd binding, in which one armorial device was stamped on top of another. The Folger’s catalog identified one of them as James I’s, but it took some joint sleuthing for her and I to work out that the stamp on top of James’s was that of George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham. As far as I can work out, no one else has noticed that, not the previous owners or booksellers nor the Library’s catalogers. (That record still doesn’t include the additional information about the binding because I haven’t yet brought it to their attention. But you can read about the book and see some pictures of the binding <a href=\"http://sarahwerner.net/blog/index.php/2011/04/an-armorial-binding-mystery/\">here</a>; the catalog record is <a href=\"http://shakespeare.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=164134\">here</a>.)','Vodou Songs - Werner 3','','inherit','open','open','','1547-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:31:07','2012-02-16 20:31:07','',1547,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1547-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1986,19,'2012-07-27 10:28:20','2012-07-27 10:28:20','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/beaupre/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1977\"><img src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/beaupre.png\" alt=\"Beaupre\" title=\"beaupre\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1977\" /></a>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','inherit','open','open','','1975-revision-2','','','2012-07-27 10:28:20','2012-07-27 10:28:20','',1975,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1975-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1987,19,'2012-07-27 10:29:25','2012-07-27 10:29:25','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','This case study features work from <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>, which was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the Program in Museums and Society at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009.  Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project.  The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.  Students in the course researched the histories of objects in the museum’s collection and created Google Maps tracing their history.  Three students share their work in this case study.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-53','','','2012-07-27 10:29:25','2012-07-27 10:29:25','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-53/',0,'revision','',0),(1988,19,'2012-08-28 04:57:01','2012-08-28 04:57:01','','Mapping the Provenance of Museum Objects','This case study features work from <a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/\" target=\"_blank\">Art on the Move</a>, which was an outcome of the course “Behind the Scenes at the Walters Art Museum: Material Migrations,” offered at the Walters Art Museum through the Program in Museums and Society at Johns Hopkins University in the fall of 2009.  Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman were co-instructors and, with the technical guidance of Reid Sczerba, Senior Programmer Analyst in the university’s Center for Educational Resources, devised and oversaw this project.  The course and project were funded by an Arts Innovation Grant from Johns Hopkins.  Students in the course researched the histories of objects in the museum’s collection and created Google Maps tracing their history.  Three students share their work in this case study.','inherit','open','open','','1121-revision-54','','','2012-08-28 04:57:01','2012-08-28 04:57:01','',1121,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1121-revision-54/',0,'revision','',0),(1989,19,'2012-08-28 04:57:25','2012-08-28 04:57:25','<a href=\"http://thewalters.org/earth/beaupre/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1977\"><img class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-1977\" title=\"beaupre\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/beaupre.png\" alt=\"Beaupre\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" /></a>','Walters - Beaupre Devos','','inherit','open','open','','1975-autosave','','','2012-08-28 04:57:25','2012-08-28 04:57:25','',1975,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1975-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(1990,19,'2012-07-27 09:44:07','2012-07-27 09:44:07','<em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em>\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe your role in this project.</strong>\r\n\r\nI work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nInitially we had to find a program that would be available freely (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. We selected Google Earth because it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth, and it is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made placemarks as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s placemarks. After those two resources were set, I needed to create a well-written and comprehensible workflow. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express what actions needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nI met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially to gather the project’s requirements, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. One of my colleagues from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by e-mail to answer questions as they came up, especially during the process of approving the workflow, as it needed to be as simple as possible to follow. I also held a training workshop for the students with Professor Rodini. I continued to be available for questions by e-mail as the students worked on their projects.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project required that every placemark on a tour include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master, but customizing the appearance of the placemarks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found that very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their placemarks, they simply copied the content from a Word document and then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. The students pasted that code into their Google Earth placemark, circumventing the need for them to learn HTML.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future?</strong>\r\n\r\nA more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without using Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had, but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing to realize that Google Earth did not have an HMTL editor built in, and that there was no application that could suit our needs at the time. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available to allow students to create tours and focus on the content rather than the technology. If not, then perhaps we will have the time to build one ourselves and share it.','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-9','','','2012-07-27 09:44:07','2012-07-27 09:44:07','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(1991,19,'2012-08-28 05:02:18','2012-08-28 05:02:18','<em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em>\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe your role in this project.</strong>\r\n\r\nI work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nInitially we had to find a program that would be available freely (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. We selected Google Earth because it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth, and it is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made placemarks as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s placemarks. After those two resources were set, I needed to create a well-written and comprehensible workflow. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express what actions needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong>\r\n\r\nI met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially to gather the project’s requirements, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. One of my colleagues from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by e-mail to answer questions as they came up, especially during the process of approving the workflow, as it needed to be as simple as possible to follow. I also held a training workshop for the students with Professor Rodini. I continued to be available for questions by e-mail as the students worked on their projects.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong>\r\n\r\nThis project required that every placemark on a tour include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master, but customizing the appearance of the placemarks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found that very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their placemarks, they simply copied the content from a Word document and then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. The students pasted that code into their Google Earth placemark, circumventing the need for them to learn HTML.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future?</strong>\r\n\r\nA more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without using Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had, but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing to realize that Google Earth did not have an HMTL editor built in, and that there was no application that could suit our needs at the time. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available to allow students to create tours and focus on the content rather than the technology. If not, then perhaps we will have the time to build one ourselves and share it.','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-10','','','2012-08-28 05:02:18','2012-08-28 05:02:18','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(1993,19,'2012-02-16 08:30:41','2012-02-16 08:30:41','<em>The Vodou Archive</em> is a collaborative partnership spearheaded by the University of Florida and Duke University which seeks to improve the understanding of a central Haitian and Haitian-American spiritual tradition by gathering the <strong>audiovisual</strong> and <strong>textual</strong> sources of Vodou communities, by <strong>interpreting</strong> what we collect, by <strong>expanding </strong>the holdings through a <strong>self-submission tool</strong>, and by diffusing the knowledge via an open access digital library.  You can find the current prototype here (<a href=\"http://www.dloc.com/vodou\">http://www.dloc.com/vodou</a>),  hosted within the existing <a href=\"http://dloc.com/\">Digital Library of the Caribbean</a> (dLOC). In addition to the 27 international partners working with the Digital Library of the Caribbean, collaborators from the University of Notre Dame, the University of Miami, the Schrijversvakschool, Florida International University, the Université des Antilles et de la Guyane, and City Lore, among others, will contribute elements to <strong><em>The Vodou Archive</em></strong>. This project belongs to a tradition of scholarly work stretching back to the early 20<sup>th</sup> century that has sought to counter reductionist and racist visions of the religion through ethnography, analysis of culture and music, and an exploration of the role of Vodou in Haiti’s founding revolution. Such work has long turned to the central texts in Haitian Vodou: its <strong>Creole-language songs</strong>.\r\n\r\nBuilding on my <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn1\">[1]</a> <em>The Vodou Archive</em> project makes these songs available in Haitian Creole and English along with substantial interpretative annotations and essays to contextualize the collection. The materials to be edited and curated in <em>The Vodou Archive</em> are of major literary, historical, cultural and religious significance. The vast Vodou corpus stands out because it preserves a wealth of African cultural, ethnological and historical knowledge.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn2\">[2]</a> (Beauvoir 2008b). The oral and textual corpora of songs are comprised of the authentic and living traditions of the Vodou religion. They are primarily the songs that are sung in the context of Vodou worship in public and domestic ceremonies and they constitute the sacred literature of the religion. Vodou songs, a constant in ceremonies, address the mythologies and characteristics of the lwa and they describe their relations with humans. Vodou songs are time capsules that reveal the history and origins of the Haitian people in Africa, their journey to the Americas in the French slave trade, and their lives in the French colony. Due to their sacred nature, they are very well-preserved records of African and Haitian history and culture.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn3\">[3]</a>). Ceremonies and songs preserve African historical (i.e. <em>Bosou</em>, <em>Achade</em>, <em>Legba</em>, <em>Danbala</em>), cultural (i.e. <em>lwa</em>,<em> ounsi</em>, <em>ason</em>,<em> oungan</em>) and geographical (i.e. <em>Rada</em>, <em>Savalou</em>, <em>Boumba</em>) terms in a creolized or blended religious and cultural system.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn4\">[4]</a> <a href=\"#_msocom_1\">[C1]</a> Likewise, there are numerous Vodou ceremonies (rites) classified by the African <em>nanchon </em>(nations/communities) where they originate, i.e. Rada, Petwo, Ginen, Seneka, Ibo, Danwonmen, Nago, Kongo, Kita, etc.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn5\">[5]</a>\r\n\r\nUndergraduates played, and will play, a key role in this archive.  They contributed first drafts of transcriptions and translations of Vodou songs and interviews with Vodou practitioners for the book, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em> (Hebblethwaite 2012). The undergraduate students worked on transcribing and translating interviews that I collected from Vodou priests in Haiti and they also transcribed and translated rare pre-existing published materials.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn6\">[6]</a>   The students, Joanne Bartley, Vanessa Brissault, Kat Warwick, Wilmide Vernet, and Musset Apollon, were either paid hourly through grant funding or they earned credit for an independent study. We worked from manuscripts that employ a range of Haitian Creole spelling systems. The official variety, the “IPN,” named after the <em>Institut Pédagogique National</em>, was adopted for the first time in 1980. Many of our manuscripts predate 1980 and thus transcription required heavy correction and consultation with lexicographical works.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn7\">[7]</a>The students had been exposed to the official variety of Haitian Creole spelling in my intermediate Haitian Creole course. After establishing the Haitian Creole source text, the students next produced the first draft of the English translation. I then corrected the Haitian Creole and English drafts in various cycles as the materials moved towards the finished products, the book or the Vodou Archive.  (See Figure 1, and for the related Vodou Archive digital library, Figures 2 - 4.)\r\n<div><br clear=\"all\" />\r\n\r\n<hr align=\"left\" size=\"1\" width=\"33%\" />\r\n\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[1]</a> Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English </em>\r\n\r\n<em>= Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em> (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[2]</a> Max Beauvoir, <em>Le Grand Recueil Sacré ou Répertoire des Chansons du Vodou Haïtien </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti, 2008).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[3]</a> Claudine Michel, “Vodou in Haiti: Way of Life and Mode of Survival,” in <em>Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture: Invisible Powers, </em>ed. Claudine Michel and Patrick Bellegarde-Smith (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 27–37.<em></em>\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[4]</a> See Roger Brand, <em>Cultes vodoun et textes oraux des Wéménou du sud Bénin </em>(Munich: Lincom Europa, 2000), 15; Marc Monsia, <em>Religions indigènes et savoir endogène au Bénin </em>(Cotonou, Benin: Les Éditions du Flamboyant, 2003); Gilbert Rouget, <em>La musique et la transe </em>(Paris: Gallimard, 1991 (1980)); and Gilbert Rouget, <em>Initiatique vôdoun, images du rituel: Chants et danses initiatiques pour le culte des vôdoun au Bénin </em>(Saint-Maur, France: Éditions Sépia, 2001), v.\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[5]</a> Max G. Beauvoir, <em>Lapriyè Ginen </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti. 2008), 109-110.\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[6]</a> Milo Marcelin, <em>Mythologie Vodou (Rite Arada)</em>,<em> </em>2 vols. (Pétionville: Éditions Canapé Vert, 1950); Laura Boulton, “Laura Boulton’s Songs” (1947), in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English = Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em>, eds. Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012), 127-145;  J.L., “J.L. Songs,” in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<em> </em>147-184; Harold Courlander, unpublished manuscript (1939–1940), University of Michigan Special Collections Library; Milo Rigaud, <em>La tradition voudoo et le voudoo haïtien: Son temple, ses mystères, sa magie </em>(Paris: Éditions Niclaus, 1953).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[7]</a> Albert Valdman, Iskra Iskrova, Jacques Pierre, and Nicolas André, <em>Haitian Creole-English Bilingual Dictionary</em> (Bloomington, IN: Creole Institute, 2007); Bryant Freeman and Jowel Laguerre, <em>Haitian-English Dictionary</em>, 5th ed. (Lawrence, KS: Institute of Haitian Studies, 2004).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<hr align=\"left\" size=\"1\" width=\"33%\" />\r\n\r\n<div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n <a href=\"#_msoanchor_1\">[C1]</a>The Brand citation is here. The original reference is: (Brand 2000: 15; Monsia 2003; Rouget 1991, 2001: v).  Which of the two Brand books should be referenced (I chose 2000a, but that could be wrong)?\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n</div>\r\n</div>','Vodou Songs - Hebblethwaite 1','','inherit','open','open','','1504-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 08:30:41','2012-02-16 08:30:41','',1504,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1504-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1992,19,'2012-08-28 05:05:06','2012-08-28 05:05:06','<em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em>\r\n<p><strong>1. Describe your role in this project.</strong><br />\r\n\r\nI work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.</p>\r\n<p><strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong><br>Initially we had to find a program that would be available freely (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. We selected Google Earth because it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth, and it is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made placemarks as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s placemarks. After those two resources were set, I needed to create a well-written and comprehensible workflow. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express what actions needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.</p>\r\n<p> <strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong><br>I met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially to gather the project’s requirements, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. One of my colleagues from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by e-mail to answer questions as they came up, especially during the process of approving the workflow, as it needed to be as simple as possible to follow. I also held a training workshop for the students with Professor Rodini. I continued to be available for questions by e-mail as the students worked on their projects.</p>\r\n<p> <strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong><br>\r\nThis project required that every placemark on a tour include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master, but customizing the appearance of the placemarks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found that very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their placemarks, they simply copied the content from a Word document and then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. The students pasted that code into their Google Earth placemark, circumventing the need for them to learn HTML.\r\n<p><strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future?</strong></p>\r\nA more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without using Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had, but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing to realize that Google Earth did not have an HMTL editor built in, and that there was no application that could suit our needs at the time. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available to allow students to create tours and focus on the content rather than the technology. If not, then perhaps we will have the time to build one ourselves and share it.</p>\r\n','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-11','','','2012-08-28 05:05:06','2012-08-28 05:05:06','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(1994,19,'2012-08-28 05:10:52','2012-08-28 05:10:52','<em>The Vodou Archive</em> is a collaborative partnership spearheaded by the University of Florida and Duke University which seeks to improve the understanding of a central Haitian and Haitian-American spiritual tradition by gathering the <strong>audiovisual</strong> and <strong>textual</strong> sources of Vodou communities, by <strong>interpreting</strong> what we collect, by <strong>expanding </strong>the holdings through a <strong>self-submission tool</strong>, and by diffusing the knowledge via an open access digital library.  You can find the current prototype here (<a href=\"http://www.dloc.com/vodou\">http://www.dloc.com/vodou</a>),  hosted within the existing <a href=\"http://dloc.com/\">Digital Library of the Caribbean</a> (dLOC). In addition to the 27 international partners working with the Digital Library of the Caribbean, collaborators from the University of Notre Dame, the University of Miami, the Schrijversvakschool, Florida International University, the Université des Antilles et de la Guyane, and City Lore, among others, will contribute elements to <strong><em>The Vodou Archive</em></strong>. This project belongs to a tradition of scholarly work stretching back to the early 20<sup>th</sup> century that has sought to counter reductionist and racist visions of the religion through ethnography, analysis of culture and music, and an exploration of the role of Vodou in Haiti’s founding revolution. Such work has long turned to the central texts in Haitian Vodou: its <strong>Creole-language songs</strong>.\r\n\r\nBuilding on my <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn1\">[1]</a> <em>The Vodou Archive</em> project makes these songs available in Haitian Creole and English along with substantial interpretative annotations and essays to contextualize the collection. The materials to be edited and curated in <em>The Vodou Archive</em> are of major literary, historical, cultural and religious significance. The vast Vodou corpus stands out because it preserves a wealth of African cultural, ethnological and historical knowledge.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn2\">[2]</a> (Beauvoir 2008b). The oral and textual corpora of songs are comprised of the authentic and living traditions of the Vodou religion. They are primarily the songs that are sung in the context of Vodou worship in public and domestic ceremonies and they constitute the sacred literature of the religion. Vodou songs, a constant in ceremonies, address the mythologies and characteristics of the lwa and they describe their relations with humans. Vodou songs are time capsules that reveal the history and origins of the Haitian people in Africa, their journey to the Americas in the French slave trade, and their lives in the French colony. Due to their sacred nature, they are very well-preserved records of African and Haitian history and culture.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn3\">[3]</a>). Ceremonies and songs preserve African historical (i.e. <em>Bosou</em>, <em>Achade</em>, <em>Legba</em>, <em>Danbala</em>), cultural (i.e. <em>lwa</em>,<em> ounsi</em>, <em>ason</em>,<em> oungan</em>) and geographical (i.e. <em>Rada</em>, <em>Savalou</em>, <em>Boumba</em>) terms in a creolized or blended religious and cultural system.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn4\">[4]</a> <a href=\"#_msocom_1\">[C1]</a> Likewise, there are numerous Vodou ceremonies (rites) classified by the African <em>nanchon </em>(nations/communities) where they originate, i.e. Rada, Petwo, Ginen, Seneka, Ibo, Danwonmen, Nago, Kongo, Kita, etc.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn5\">[5]</a>\r\n\r\nUndergraduates played, and will play, a key role in this archive.  They contributed first drafts of transcriptions and translations of Vodou songs and interviews with Vodou practitioners for the book, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em> (Hebblethwaite 2012). The undergraduate students worked on transcribing and translating interviews that I collected from Vodou priests in Haiti and they also transcribed and translated rare pre-existing published materials.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn6\">[6]</a>   The students, Joanne Bartley, Vanessa Brissault, Kat Warwick, Wilmide Vernet, and Musset Apollon, were either paid hourly through grant funding or they earned credit for an independent study. We worked from manuscripts that employ a range of Haitian Creole spelling systems. The official variety, the “IPN,” named after the <em>Institut Pédagogique National</em>, was adopted for the first time in 1980. Many of our manuscripts predate 1980 and thus transcription required heavy correction and consultation with lexicographical works.<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftn7\">[7]</a>The students had been exposed to the official variety of Haitian Creole spelling in my intermediate Haitian Creole course. After establishing the Haitian Creole source text, the students next produced the first draft of the English translation. I then corrected the Haitian Creole and English drafts in various cycles as the materials moved towards the finished products, the book or the Vodou Archive.  (See Figure 1, and for the related Vodou Archive digital library, Figures 2 - 4.)\r\n<div><br clear=\"all\" />\r\n\r\n<hr align=\"left\" size=\"1\" width=\"33%\" />\r\n\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[1]</a> Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley, <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English </em>\r\n\r\n<em>= Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em> (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[2]</a> Max Beauvoir, <em>Le Grand Recueil Sacré ou Répertoire des Chansons du Vodou Haïtien </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti, 2008).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[3]</a> Claudine Michel, “Vodou in Haiti: Way of Life and Mode of Survival,” in <em>Vodou in Haitian Life and Culture: Invisible Powers, </em>ed. Claudine Michel and Patrick Bellegarde-Smith (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 27–37.<em></em>\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[4]</a> See Roger Brand, <em>Cultes vodoun et textes oraux des Wéménou du sud Bénin </em>(Munich: Lincom Europa, 2000), 15; Marc Monsia, <em>Religions indigènes et savoir endogène au Bénin </em>(Cotonou, Benin: Les Éditions du Flamboyant, 2003); Gilbert Rouget, <em>La musique et la transe </em>(Paris: Gallimard, 1991 (1980)); and Gilbert Rouget, <em>Initiatique vôdoun, images du rituel: Chants et danses initiatiques pour le culte des vôdoun au Bénin </em>(Saint-Maur, France: Éditions Sépia, 2001), v.\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[5]</a> Max G. Beauvoir, <em>Lapriyè Ginen </em>(Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d Ayiti. 2008), 109-110.\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[6]</a> Milo Marcelin, <em>Mythologie Vodou (Rite Arada)</em>,<em> </em>2 vols. (Pétionville: Éditions Canapé Vert, 1950); Laura Boulton, “Laura Boulton’s Songs” (1947), in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English = Chante vodou an kreyòl ayisyen ak angle</em>, eds. Benjamin Hebblethwaite and Joanne Bartley (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2012), 127-145;  J.L., “J.L. Songs,” in <em>Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English</em>,<em> </em>147-184; Harold Courlander, unpublished manuscript (1939–1940), University of Michigan Special Collections Library; Milo Rigaud, <em>La tradition voudoo et le voudoo haïtien: Son temple, ses mystères, sa magie </em>(Paris: Éditions Niclaus, 1953).\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<a title=\"\" href=\"#_ftnref\">[7]</a> Albert Valdman, Iskra Iskrova, Jacques Pierre, and Nicolas André, <em>Haitian Creole-English Bilingual Dictionary</em> (Bloomington, IN: Creole Institute, 2007); Bryant Freeman and Jowel Laguerre, <em>Haitian-English Dictionary</em>, 5th ed. (Lawrence, KS: Institute of Haitian Studies, 2004).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n</div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n<hr align=\"left\" size=\"1\" width=\"33%\" />\r\n\r\n<div>\r\n<div>\r\n\r\n <a href=\"#_msoanchor_1\">[C1]</a>The Brand citation is here. The original reference is: (Brand 2000: 15; Monsia 2003; Rouget 1991, 2001: v).  Which of the two Brand books should be referenced (I chose 2000a, but that could be wrong)?\r\n\r\n</div>\r\n</div>\r\n</div>','Vodou Songs - Hebblethwaite 1','','inherit','open','open','','1504-revision-3','','','2012-08-28 05:10:52','2012-08-28 05:10:52','',1504,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1504-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(1996,19,'2012-08-28 05:14:25','2012-08-28 05:14:25','<em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em>\r\n\r\n<strong>1. Describe your role in this project.\r\n</strong>I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.\r\n\r\n<strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong>\r\nInitially we had to find a program that would be available freely (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. We selected Google Earth because it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth, and it is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made placemarks as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s placemarks. After those two resources were set, I needed to create a well-written and comprehensible workflow. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express what actions needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.\r\n\r\n<strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong>\r\nI met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially to gather the project’s requirements, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. One of my colleagues from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by e-mail to answer questions as they came up, especially during the process of approving the workflow, as it needed to be as simple as possible to follow. I also held a training workshop for the students with Professor Rodini. I continued to be available for questions by e-mail as the students worked on their projects.\r\n\r\n<strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong>\r\nThis project required that every placemark on a tour include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master, but customizing the appearance of the placemarks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found that very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their placemarks, they simply copied the content from a Word document and then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. The students pasted that code into their Google Earth placemark, circumventing the need for them to learn HTML.\r\n\r\n<strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future?\r\n</strong>A more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without using Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had, but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing to realize that Google Earth did not have an HMTL editor built in, and that there was no application that could suit our needs at the time. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available to allow students to create tours and focus on the content rather than the technology. If not, then perhaps we will have the time to build one ourselves and share it.','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-13','','','2012-08-28 05:14:25','2012-08-28 05:14:25','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(1998,19,'2012-02-16 20:59:29','2012-02-16 20:59:29','The most obvious benefit to Penn students is an opportunity to work on a project designed to be used by Native American community members and to hear the voices of elders.  Penn, unfortunately, has no Native American faculty working in the field of American Indian studies, and the state of Pennsylvania has no Indian reservations.  As a result, students generally have no contact with the people they are studying.  Because many have never met a Native American, they are prone to thinking of Indians as being extinct.  By getting students to look at archival materials from an indigenous perspective, they learn to think about such basic terms as “American,” “history,” “literature,” “intelligence,” and “writing” in new ways.  Even if the students do not major in American Indian studies, the intellectual experience of understanding a very different cultural epistemology and ontology is inherently valuable.\r\n\r\nFrom a pedagogical perspective, the students learn research skills in archives that will serve them well no matter what their chose careers.  In my experience, most undergraduates do not have the opportunity to work with archival or museum collections.  Many students seem to enjoy the courses more once they have been to the American Philosophical Society and seen Thomas Jefferson’s hand written draft of the Declaration of Independence or held a drum owned by Sitting Bull in their hands.  It makes history and culture come alive in a way that textbooks rarely achieve.  I find that it requires a lot of preliminary work—selecting and skimming documents, scanning photographs, etc.—to prepare a class for doing research in the archives.  This semester my students will be going through hundreds of pages of oral history transcripts about an Ojibwe Medicine Man to try to match them to historical documents and photographs in order to make them more useful to the community where the recordings were originally made more than 75 years ago.  I find that the students’ work is more thoughtful and more inspired when they realize that their work will be shared with community members, rather than writing a paper that will be read by one person. Me.','Vodou Songs - Powell 2','','inherit','open','open','','1580-revision-2','','','2012-02-16 20:59:29','2012-02-16 20:59:29','',1580,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1580-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(1997,19,'2012-08-28 05:18:04','2012-08-28 05:18:04','<div><em><img class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1223\" title=\"szerba\" src=\"http://stage.archivejournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/szerba.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"160\" />Sczerba worked closely with the course instructors, Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman, to develop and refine the Google Earth tools and to train students in building tours.</em></div>\r\n<p><strong>1. Describe your role in this project. </strong><br />I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation. </p>\r\n<p><strong>2. What tasks did you perform at various stages of the project?</strong><br /> Initially we had to find a program that would be available freely (both in access and cost) for students to use with a relatively low learning curve. We selected Google Earth because it allows tour creation with rich media and text mapped to the earth, and it is free to download on PCs and Macs. I then created a template tour, set up with pre-made placemarks as a starting point for the students, and content layout templates for the appearance of the tour’s placemarks. After those two resources were set, I needed to create a well-written and comprehensible workflow. I chose to create both a visual and textual workflow to clearly express what actions needed to happen and at what stages. The final step was to present this workflow to the students in a training workshop so that they could see how it all came together and do it themselves.</p>\r\n<p><strong>3. What sorts of interactions did you have with faculty, students, and other members of the project community over the course of the project?</strong><br /> I met with Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman initially to gather the project’s requirements, then later to introduce them to the proposed solution. One of my colleagues from the CER also joined these meetings to offer ideas. I was also available by e-mail to answer questions as they came up, especially during the process of approving the workflow, as it needed to be as simple as possible to follow. I also held a training workshop for the students with Professor Rodini. I continued to be available for questions by e-mail as the students worked on their projects. </p>\r\n<p><strong>4. What particular challenges did this project present?</strong><br /> This project required that every placemark on a tour include images at that location. The only way to do this in Google Earth was to code it yourself. Certain aspects of using Google Earth were easy to master, but customizing the appearance of the placemarks requires HTML programming knowledge. Despite the fact that most students nowadays have grown up with the Internet, we have found that very few know how to use HTML. Our solution utilized an online HTML editor that had a prebuilt HTML template loaded in it. When the students were ready to create the content for their placemarks, they simply copied the content from a Word document and then pasted it in the HTML editor to generate the code. The students pasted that code into their Google Earth placemark, circumventing the need for them to learn HTML. </p>\r\n<p><strong>5. What lessons did you learn from this project and what might you do differently in the future? </strong><br />A more ideal solution may have been to create an application that would generate the tours without using Google Earth. This would have taken more time and resources to build than we had, but it could have been a useful application for other courses as well. It was disappointing to realize that Google Earth did not have an HMTL editor built in, and that there was no application that could suit our needs at the time. Perhaps when this course is offered again, there will be an ideal solution available to allow students to create tours and focus on the content rather than the technology. If not, then perhaps we will have the time to build one ourselves and share it.</p>','Reid Sczerba - Commentary','I work for a faculty support center at Johns Hopkins University called the Center for Educational Resources (CER). As the center’s multimedia developer, I aided Elizabeth Rodini and Ben Tilghman with the technical and logistical aspects of the project. This included determining a viable technology for the project tours and developing resource guides that aided students’ tour creation.','inherit','open','open','','1123-revision-14','','','2012-08-28 05:18:04','2012-08-28 05:18:04','',1123,'http://stage.archivejournal.net/issue/2/uncategorized/1123-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),