Commemorations have been much on my mind recently as I’ve been developing a new project on memorials to Theodore Roosevelt.  Roosevelt has been memorialized endlessly since his death in 1919, most famously on Mount Rushmore.  TR also has a monument in Washington, DC–Theodore Roosevelt Island in the Potomac River.  Although perhaps the least visited of the presidential memorials in the city, it offers, I believe, the most fitting tribute to its subject.  A site where visitors can hike nature trails and observe local flora and fauna, the memorial reminds us of the twenty-sixth president’s most enduring legacy: his conservationism.

I have not gotten a chance to visit the MLK memorial yet, so I will reserve judgment.  I will say, however, that if it encourages Americans to reflect on the tortured history of race and racism in this country then it is accomplishing something immensely significant.  Whatever we do to memorialize Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on this day, let us not forget that history.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 46,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 17 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Morales’s visit sparked discussion about not only equal rights and social activism but for all issues. This made me think about what is seemingly a lack of activism in our country today, and how protests are viewed by the general public today. Really, I wanted to know what sort of actions are being taken by Puerto Rican Independence advocates currently.

In recent years, activist movements have been more silent due to US investigations into known Puerto Rican Independence Party supporters and members. The English version of their website was still being maintained as of last year, but it seems as though some of the movement has died away. This is may be true or it could just be a perception based on limited online sources, I do not know. This is not to say that the tensions are removed. People in Puerto Rico and abroad feel that the commonwealth is being acted upon without consent. Puerto Ricans do not vote in congressional or presidential elections, yet must face the consequences of those results. The Puerto Rican Independence Party’s website includes information about Puerto Rico and their visions for the people.

In the United States at least, people are starting to make noise again. At the beginning of May, activist Dana Block came out from hiding to address these issues along with her personal experience while living an “underground” life in a new book called “Arm the Spirit: A Woman’s Journey Underground and Back.” Every once in a while, murmurings about Puerto Rican independence can be heard, especially around major voting periods. But I think we need to ask, “how will the face of activism for Puerto Rico look in the years to come?”

While not everyone is an activist in this cause, candid interviews with US citizens indicate that there is a significant population that believes Puerto Rico should have its right to independence from the United States.

Angel Island Immigration Station. Photo by Hart Hyatt North from wikimedia commons.

Last month, the first year students of the Cooperstown Graduate Program took their annual field trip to New York City.  During our romp through NYC we visited many museums that focused on immigrant experiences in New York. On our third day in New York, we took the ferry to the Ellis Island Immigration Museum, the most recognizable immigration station and entry point into the United States.  Ellis Island welcomed thousands of immigrants, primarily from Europe, from 1892 to 1954.  Ellis Island is a focal point within the triumphant immigration story in the United States. Angel Island, another immigration station and entry point to the United States is located in California, and primarily served Asian Pacific immigrants, most notably Chinese Immigrants from 1910 to 1940.  It served the same function as Ellis Island did; however, its story is completely unique from that of Ellis Island.

Ellis Island has typically overshadowed the story of Angel Island.  Angel Island was open for a short period of time and received less visitors then Ellis Island in New York. The biggest difference between the two stations was in the treatment of the immigrants they served.  During the mid to late 20^th century, the U.S. government restricted immigration from China to just over one hundred immigrants a year thanks to a series of immigration laws, most notably the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.  Chinese immigrants who tried to enter the U.S. were stopped at Angel Island and tested for disease and interrogated on the validity of their identity, since only those with families inside the U.S. could enter.  At Ellis Island, many European immigrants were able to enter the country after a few hours of health screening, while at Angel Island, it could take weeks or even years for immigrants to enter the country.

Dormitories at Angel Island Immigration Station. Photo by Hart Hyatt North from wikimedia commons.

The website Poetic Waves introduces the Angel Island story from the prospective of the detainees by using the poetry etched on the walls of the barracks.  The site uses the poetry as a focal point to highlight the conditions at the station and provide insight into the thoughts of the detainees while incarcerated at Angel Island.  Four poems are arranged thematically on the web pages and are available in both English and Chinese.  Poetic Waves also utilizes brief individual stories of former detainees.  There is also a brief description of the site’s main buildings and a timeline of significant events related to the Chinese American experience.

Although the site contains great technology features and is a jumping off point for the story of the Angel Island experience, I feel that the website could do more.  In author Ha Jin’s Shame, Professor Meng’s challenges as a recent immigrant such as finding a job are mitigated by his connections within the Chinese community [1]. What happens to the Chinese detainees after they enter America? How does the immigration story continue for these immigrants?  The web developer writes, “I want to challenge viewers to relate this story of Chinese immigrants to their own lives, and the struggles of immigrants from all races.”[2] I don’t feel he provided the environment to facilitate this reflection as of yet.

The weakest part of the website is found under the Articles tab, which tries to provide further historical details surrounding the Chinese American experience and Angel Island.   The articles are more like informal blog posts. They contain important historic information; however, there are no references to scholarly sources nor is there clear organization of the articles.  Also, it is unclear how often the site is updated. The last article was posted in March of 2010 and contained errors that visitors have pointed out need correcting.

Overall, I think that the story of Angel Island and Asian Pacific immigration can be fleshed out by Poetic Waves. The website deserves more attention from its developer and a clearer idea of its intended audience and goals. The site should focus on the continuation of the immigration story to the mainland and provide additional resources and make connections to contemporary immigration issues.  With these changes, I think Poetic Waves will be on the right path to providing an important American story, equal to that of Ellis Island.

[1] Jin, Ha. “Shame.” In A Good Fall, by Ha Jin. Vintage International, 2009.

[2] Yip, Garman, and Native Interactive. Angel Island: Poetic Waves. http://www.poeticwaves.net/about-us/ (accessed May 2011).

The Philippines were gained by the United States at the same time as Puerto Rico through the signing of the Treaty of Paris of 1898 following the Spanish-American War. Officially declared the first commonwealth of the United States in 1935, the Philippines had a relatively short history under the direction of the US government with its full independence being gained in 1946.[1] The reasons for terminating the jurisdiction over the Philippines were primarily economical, as the United States had been going through the Great Depression.

During the period of 1906 and 1935, many Filipinos migrated to Hawai’i, the West Coast, and even Alaska looking for jobs. Typically, those who relocated in Hawai’i worked on sugar plantations, while farms were a popular settlement for the West Coast migrants. Additionally, several Filipino men served the United States during World War II.[2] Despite these actions, Filipinos—like other minorities and immigrants—found it difficult to obtain equal opportunities and citizenship in the United States.

Photograph included in Singgalot depicting immigrants working in agricultural jobs.

Singgalot: The Ties that Bind is an exhibition created by the Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Program that deals with the relationship between the United States and the Philippines. Beginning with the first trans-oceanic trade missions between Manila and Acapulco in the 1500s, the exhibition highlights the period of United States control, while exploring how Filipinos had to adjust their lives after immigrating and becoming US citizens.[3] The exhibition was designed to share and preserve Filipino cultural heritage, and commemorate the roles that this community played to promote civil rights. Focusing on imagery rather than objects, the exhibition is comprised of thirty panels featuring documents and photographs depicting early migrants to recent leaders who have challenged class and gender boundaries.

In 2000, Navy Captain Eleanor “Connie” Mariano, Medical Corps, was promoted to Rear Admiral, the highest military rank occupied by a Filipino American. This promotion displays the values and equal rights Filipinos were fighting for.

This exhibition demonstrates several themes in common with other Asian Americans and immigrant groups. Constituting the second largest Asian American group in the United States, Filipinos came to find better opportunities for themselves and their families. Despite the hard work and little pay, waves of migrants came. Once the Immigration Act of 1965 was enacted, Asian American communities knew that they had to improve their lives and demand equal rights if they were going to sustain the new waves of Asian immigrants. It was particularly difficult for Asian Americans during this time due to the stigma placed on them by previous generations that carried over to a time in which other Americans were starting to get their first interactions with this new immigrant group.

The exhibition does well in representing Filipino communities, their cultural practices, political involvement, and their issues, however the panels’ information seem limited. If the exhibition could have obtained and shared more oral histories, such as those by civil rights activists gathered by the Seattle Civil Rights & Labor History Project, visitors may feel more connected to the topic. I think that this works well as a traveling exhibit, but with added sensory elements, this exhibition could generate more engagement and dialogue about current issues such as the status of Puerto Rico.

Mural created by Philippine-born artist Eliseo Silva (b. 1972) located in Historic Filipinotown, Los Angeles. The mural, like the Singgalot exhibit, celebrates the leadership and achievements of Filipinos.

Resources:

[1] “Territorial Acquisitions of the United States.” National Atlas Home Page. United States Department of the Interior, 27 Jan. 2011. Accessed 16 May 2011. http://www.nationalatlas.gov/mld/usacqup.html.

[2] “Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service – About the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service’s mission, history, and goals.” Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service: History, Art, and Science Exhibitions. Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Program, 2008. Accessed 16 May 2011. http://www.sites.si.edu/exhibitions/exhibits/singgalot_filipinos_in_america/main.htm#itinerar.

[3] “Singgalot (The Ties That Bind): Filipinos in America, from Colonial Subjects to Citizens.” The Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Program and the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service, 2008. Accessed 16 May 2011.http://www.sites.si.edu/exhibitions/singgalot.pdf.

While in Taiwan in 2008, I went with several other Fulbrighters to support a protest by the Democratic Political Party (DPP) which promotes Taiwanese self-determination. Today, activism must be flexible to include traditional protests like pickets and marches but also conversations, education, and online organizing.

One April morning in 2004 it was announced that George W. Bush would be coming to speak in Buffalo. Adamantly opposed to the war in Iraq since the very start, several classmates and I decided that we wanted to go and protest in front of Kleinhans Music Hall, where he was speaking. Unfortunately, I was already committed to an overnight college visit that same day, nixing my opportunity to answer my internal call to picket. As my mom and I drove east from Buffalo that morning, I listened to the local NPR affiliate’s coverage until static broke up the station somewhere before Rochester. I felt like we were driving away from my civic responsibility.

Throughout my college visit, I forgot about the missed protest. I found my academic home for the next four years, and was excited about the prospect. In the fall of that year I eagerly began the courses of a poli sci major and stayed up all night to hear the results of the 2004 election on one cold November night. I thought I would become involved in political change.

Again, I thought wrong. By the next semester, I switched away from a political science track to history and education. Trading in my continually-felt frustrations about the challenge of fighting for change, the combined study of historical successes and failures and how to teach them gave me new light. I could leverage my desire to make a difference through other avenues—including the classroom.

Still, I have always felt that the activist inside of me has been hidden away in a box. Sometimes she will come out through personal conversation or classroom coursework such as a movie I made in the fall of 2007 about my cousin’s experience in the Army. Instead of carrying signs in a picket line, I have studied and traveled and listened.

Therefore, I was excited to meet Iris Morales in class last week. A member of the Young Lords Party in New York City during the late 1960s and early 1970s, Ms. Morales’ activist resume is impressive. Illustrating collective action to meet community needs, her 1996 documentary Palante, Siempre, Palante adds the Young Lords to a lengthy list of groups advocating for change at the time. I expected my inner activist to hear a call to action and begin picketing my inactivity.

Instead, I was struck by our conversation in class about the meaning in activism. Today, Ms. Morales works for a non-profit that funds grassroots activism. She described being perplexed to receive so many proposals for teaching English as a Second Language, a task that would not likely have been considered radical by Young Lords standards. But, Morales explained, with the 1990 immigration law and subsequent English-only controversy, teaching English as a Second Language is an important grassroots action. For Morales, this took a shift in her own understanding of activism.

Something clicked for me. My idea of an activist has always been someone walking a picket line, taking intermittent breaks to write letters and meet with officials. In reality, the tiny activist that I thought was hidden away inside is actually part of my daily practice, exercised most regularly in daily conversation and as an educator. Today, activism must be flexible and responsive to meet the needs of the cause and the continual media cycle. Instead, we must live activated and ready to respond.

No time for relaxing on the beach this summer-there's work to be done! papercraftmagic.com

One of her most exciting new projects is working on a play about Vito Marcantonio, a politician from East Harlem who served in the House of Representatives in the 1930s and 1940s.  Iris spoke a bit about the play after showing us her documentary, and I had the pleasure of hearing more about it when I drove her to the train station.  This summer, she is hosting an in-process theatrical reading of scenes from the play—a little “sneak peek,” if you will, at a work in progress.  It may not be polished or complete, but she still believes that it has something to offer in its nascent state.  She took a similar approach when making Palante! Siempre Palante!,holding open screenings at different points during its creation to receive feedback, but more importantly to generate excitement and demonstrate that those unfinished bits were just as invigorating and significant as the end product would eventually be.

Iris’ belief in the legitimacy of the parts that eventually make the whole and her resolve to rejoice in the process as much as the product is something that we as museum professionals must authenticate more readily.  We’ve spent much of this semester exploring how to present complicated, challenging issues in our museums.  Sometimes we’ve become disheartened by the seemingly small number of stellar examples of shared authority or other pioneering devices used in today’s museums.  But searching for or trying to achieve the perfectly executed museum exhibit is not the point.  Iris’ visit really reminded me that making the attempt to enact change and celebrating your efforts are the keys to true success.  She also reminded us to revel in the process and not focus solely on the outcome.

Like Iris’ play, the museum field is currently a work in progress.  We clearly haven’t figured everything out yet.  But we must constantly remind ourselves of the beauty inherent in our willingness to create new approaches and innovations, even if they may not be fully formed or perfect.  As I gear up to start my internship in New York, I’ll keep Iris’ lessons close to heart.

Sluts have been roaming the streets of Toronto, Boston, and Chicago to name a few cities.  Not just sluts, but the worst kind of sluts, college student sluts.  The SlutWalk is the organized march of women to take back the word slut.

The SlutWalk was spurred by the comments of a Toronto police officer to students at a Toronto law school.  He told students that “women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized” when he was giving a presentation about sexual assault on January 24, 2011.  Founded by victims of sexual assault, the SlutWalk was founded to fight for victims’ rights.  The goal of SlutWalk is to finally banish the idea that the way women act creates sexual assault.

The idea of SlutWalk is for a woman to be able to dress the way she wants without being controlled by the male idea of sexuality.  This movement reminds me and this blogger of Third Wave Feminism, and especially the Riot Grrrl movement of my childhood.  Riot Grrrls were hard rocking Feminists of the early 90s.  Bands like Bikini Kill and Sleater Kinney sang about Girl Power and Revolution Girl Style Now!

They made really cool zines and dressed “slutty.”  Kathleen Hanna, lead singer of Bikini Kill, famously wore a Catholic schoolgirl skit and wrote SLUT on her stomach for Spin Magazine.  Riot Grrrls dressed this way so they could kill the negative connotations of words like slut.

As the new generation deals with the issues Riot Grrrls faced in the 90s, museums and books have also taken on these issues.  At the Experience Music Project in Seattle, a Riot Grrrl Retrospective examines the influence of Riot Grrrls on modern music and culture.  I am excited to see college students all over the nation taking up the Riot Grrrl torch and can’t wait to see where these Rebel Girls take the fight for equality.