I like you!

 When I was young, our family tradition was for my father's family to gather at the farm.  My father had inherited the home where he and his siblings had been raised.  His brother's family lived only a few miles away, and one of his sisters lived about an hour's drive away.  However, the other two sisters lived in California and Texas.  The sister in California did not visit regularly, but the family from Texas came nearly every year.  

It was a dream come true for all the cousins.  Usually, they came after wheat harvest and planting, so my father was not so busy.  We kids roamed the farm unsupervised, climbing trees, creating hide-aways in the sandhill plum thickets. playing hide-and-seek, roaming, and making up our own games.  I thought cousins were the best!

Anne Frank's Journal

Not long after a family visit, my mother and I had gone to Hutchinson, a small city--at least it seemed a city to me.  Unlike my freedom to roam at the farm, I was told to stay near my mother.  Suddenly, I saw someone remarkable.  A black man, or perhaps a boy, was standing nearby.  I was delighted, and I called out to him, "I like you.  You are my cousin."  It was the best compliment that I knew.

He smiled back, but my mother was flustered.  I had no idea why, but she rushed me away from my new friend.  He smiled, and I smiled back as my mother pulled me away.  Many years later I still remember my confusion.  I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but I could see that my mother was upset.  Certainly, telling him that he was my cousin was the friendliest thing I knew to do.

Years later I had married, and my husband and I were in college.  Most of the students were like us, from farming communities or the small towns that serviced farming.  We both crammed our classes into the morning so that we could rush to our jobs, working until the stores closed.  A social life was slim. Among the classes I took was one that awakened me to different populations and the mistreatment of minorities.

Our trips home were limited, because of the class loads we took and the jobs we both had.  I was very close to my father, and he was interested in the classes I was taking.  I must have been especially excited about the social science class, and I was sharing what I had learned in that class.  As I expounded on the importance of fare treatment of others, my father agreed.  He began to describe a man he had worked with at the Kansas Forestry, Fish, and Game, before returning to the farm.  All of his comments were positive, until he closed with what he thought was a compliment by saying "and he knew his place."  I immediately responded.  "And what place was that?"  My question confused him, for he had never considered what he had said as demeaning.

After graduation my husband was stationed in New England as a young lieutenant. I taught High School English, with the variety of students to be expected in a city.  Students, soldiers, others were black, white, and brown, as were my students, and it was all so different from my Kansas background that I simply accepted it as an introduction to America.  One of my student's parents had tattooed numbers on their arms, and I had to be told why.  I was embarrassed to have been so ignorant about WW II that my student had to explain to me why his parents were tattooed.  Our eyes were opened to the Melting Pot that America is, and we took it all in as a discovery of history and the uniqueness of our nation.    

A lot has changed for the little girl who saw the black young man as just someone new friend to meet.  As I reflect on my innocence, I cannot but ask myself if we have become too fearful of others who are different from us, missing the opportunity to meet a new "cousin", as I had done as a child.

I close with Anne Frank, who knew the horror of the war and the danger around her, but she wrote in her journal "in spite of everything I believe that people are really good at heart.  I hear the ever-approaching thunder which will destroy us too, and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again."  Of course, we know that what she had believed too horrible to happen lead to her death in a concentration camp. 

History warns us, yet we ignore the messages from the past and the dangers of the present.  I was right when I told the dark-skinned boy that he was my cousin.  He understood that it was my way of wanting to be friends.  The world needs to listen to the child who saw a brown skinned boy as her cousin.  We need to listen to the Jewish girl who believed that cruelty would end and peace and tranquility would return.  Our leaders need to listen to the innocence of children.    

 

   

Have We Forgotten History?

Recently, a friend sent me an article he thought I would enjoy.  The author of the article is Hugh Hewitt, and his premise is that by neglecting knowledge of history we are unable to make informed judgements about what is happening in present time.  Naturally, since I am a history buff, I was intrigued by his premise.  

Hewitt directed his attention toward young people's knowledge of history, citing recent test results, showing "alarming declines in eighth graders' understanding of history and civics."  His suggestion was to encourage kids to read historical fiction as a way to entice them to enjoy learning history.  I like the idea, if he means reading books with fictional characters but accurate historical references.  As an example, he suggested Herman Wouk's "The Winds of War" and "War and Remembrance," pointing out that while Wouk may have invented characters, he told the historical account of W.W. II with accuracy.

I also chose to tell history in my book, Prairie Bachelor, The Story of a Kansas Homesteader and the Populist Movement, using what I considered narrative nonfiction, telling history as a story with real people and real events.  I researched extensively and included foot notes and a bibliography, but I wrote in the style of a story rather than a textbook.  Both Wouk's books and mine were written for general readers, but we shared history as accurately as possible.  Several people who read Prairie Bachelor told me that they were not aware of the populist movement before reading my book. 

Hewitt focused on teaching history to young students, but I fear that both young and old are lacking in historic knowledge.   I enjoy reading history, but there is a lot of history that I do not know, and I certainly agree with Hewitt's statement that, "Without the sense of scale that even a decent grasp of history provides, it is simply not possible to appreciate the difference between what, today, might seem to be a deeply dangerous divided country [without being aware of ] the violent social upheaval of the 1960s, much less of the pre-civil War era."  

However, while his conclusion that awareness of history can show us that we have survived threats in the past, helping us keep current problems in perspective, we must not assume that just because "things worked out then" we need not be concerned about today's problems.   Germany did not have nuclear weapons in W.W. II, and how different the war might have been if Hitler would have had that weapon first. 

A reminder found in Philadelphia 

It is true that every generation will face challenges, and America has survived severe situations.  Yet, just because we survived difficult times in the past must not make us assume that today's threats will eventually be resolved wisely.  Nuclear weapons, global warming, and AI capabilities are obvious examples of things past generations did not confront. 

Hewitt's emphasis on the lessons history has to teach is valid.  I agree.  Ways to teach history to young people are extremely important, but we adults also need to reflect on the lessons to be learned from the past.  Perhaps, instead of a debate, prospective political candidates should participate in a quiz show, answering questions about American history.   It seems reasonable that we voters should take better notice of how well schooled in history and the American Constitution the people we send to State Capitals and to Washington, D.C. really are.  But, of course, before we can judge their answers, all of us may need to brush up a little on our own awareness of history.

Thanks to my friend who suggest that I read Hugh Hewitt's article.  

How Quickly We Forget

1.  Can you name this once famous New York Yankee hitter?

 I was shocked when I read that most people do not know their grandmother's maiden name.  Part of that may be attributable to the fact that today families scatter, not necessarily finding employment in the community, or even in the same state, where they were raised.  It remains customary for wives to take the surname of their husbands, but wives today are less likely to forego their given names to become a  Mrs. John Jones rather than Mrs. Mary Jones, using their own given name.  As an attorney, I sometimes had to prepare affidavits for women who had signed documents as Mrs. John Jones and who later needed to prove that Mary Jones was the one and only Mrs. John Jones, especially for women who survived their husbands and were left with no 'legal' name of their own.

For those doing genealogy research, it is often difficult to trace female ancestors because their maiden names disappeared at the time of their marriage.  If you wander through old cemeteries you will frequently find headstones of a woman engraved as Mrs. John Jones, providing you not only with no maiden name but also no given name.  In our region, where settlers sometimes moved on, the death of a young wife buried at a grave site at which no other family member was buried, provides no clue to who she was, and some of those headstones actually read, "Wife of John Jones," further ignoring her as a person.

2.  Remember this singer whose daughter also became a singer/songwriter?

You might try a simple test out of curiosity by asking a grandchild what his or her grandmother's maiden name is.  Surveys have shown that the majority will be unable to provide an answer, especially in today's world where families do not always remain in the same community of their parents and grandparents. 

However, it is not just family names that we forget.  Fame can be a fleeting thing.  If you were a sports fan who knew the names of every player the year they won the title, how many of those million dollar players can you name today?  Can you name the player at the beginning of this blog?   

If you were determined to get to the poles to vote in an important Presidential election a few decades ago, can you remember that name of his running mate, whether or not your candidate won?   

3.  This movie won 4 Academy Awards.  Can you remember the year and what the awards were?

If you and your sweetheart had a special song, or a movie that you saw together, what was the song or the movie called?  

History also falls victim to short memories.  My book, Prairie Bachelor, The Story of a Kansas Homesteader and the Populist Movement is about the era that created the People's Party, the most successful 3rd Party in American history.  Yet, many people living today, even in the region where the party was so successful and even if their ancestors participated in the movement, have never heard of that once famous political event.

Mark Twain said, 'History doesn't repeat itself but it often rhymes.'  I'm not sure what the moral to this story is intended to be...whether I want you to realize that sometimes things that seem tragically monumental will gradually be overcome, or whether I am disappointed by how quickly we forget things that deserve to be remembered, things from which we could learn beneficial lessons.

Maybe both can be true.

Answers to the quiz  images:

1.  Bobby Richardson was the best hitter for the New York Yankees in 1962 when they won the World Series.  He had a lifetime 266 batting average, with 1,432 hits and 390 RBI.

2.  The wonderful Nat King Cole was popular from the 1940s into the 1960s, and his daughter, Natalie Cole achieved her own success.  With the help of technology, they recorded a duet that topped the charts in 1991, 20 years after his death.  Natalie died in 2015.

3. "Ordinary People" won Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Adapted Screen Play, and Best Supporting Actor in 1980.  Robert Redford won as Best Director with his Directorial Debut, and Timothy Hutton won best Supporting Actor as the young son.