Tag: #AmericanCulture

Lessons learned about politics, media, and women

~ Amy Lauters ~ Leave a comment

I spent the end of last week in Salt Lake City, Utah, for the annual convention of the American Journalism Historians Association. I’m a long-time member and past president, and it’s my favorite event each year.

This year, I presented a paper about press coverage of gender and gender violence, specifically during the years the Internet was emerging, 1990-2000. I started that research at the behest of a friend working on a book about social media and gender violence, and the recent usage of social media both for harassment and for political organization made examining the historical context even more important.

I didn’t know, when I started the work, just now relevant it would become in the week I presented it.

Social media, as with any media platform, is a tool. In and of itself, social media platforms are neutral. But the people using them? Those people can use them for whatever they want. In the 1990s, people were both concerned by the level of harassment possible online, and optimistic about the tool’s potential uses for change.

And in the last two weeks, we’ve seen examples of the best and the worst of those frames.

The best: Using social media to connect women, organize, and be voices for change. Alyssa Milano, Elizabeth Warren, and many other women stood up and tried to bring attention to ideological struggle represented by the GOP’s determination to appoint a man with a documented history of harassment toward women to the U.S. Supreme Court.

The worst: Using social media to bully, harass, and intimidate women who were trying to be voices for change. Memes attempting to diminish the work of these women abounded on numerous sites. Women’s struggles were portrayed as meaningless; our body autonomy was undercut; our very real problems with men who think our bodies are their playgrounds were mocked.

I at one point considered writing a post about the multiple times over the years where I faced sexual assault and harassment, but ultimately, I could not bring myself to relive any of it for public consumption. I will only say I didn’t report because I knew nothing would be done. I admire Dr. Ford for her willingness to come forward and face the ridicule, disbelief, and scorn I could not.

I will also say that any woman who attempts a career in a largely male-dominated field can expect a degree of harassment and assault as a norm. We learn to live with it or we get out. And frankly, we shouldn’t have to live with it.

According to the National Crime Victimization Survey, conducted by the U.S. Department of Justice, one in four women between the ages of 18 and 24 suffer some form of sexual assault, and one in 20 men suffer the same. Why any of us who have suffered would mock the rest escapes me. But that is exactly what I saw on social media.

Conservative friends and family who jumped on that train and shared such mocking? You can unfriend me. I certainly blocked you.

My research about how media platforms are used by people to build and tear down community is ongoing. I won a research grant at AJHA to help continue my work, and I look forward to it.

And on the political front, I’m massively disappointed in the Republican Party. I’ve been an independent voter for years, but the last two weeks have been enough for me. I’m officially declaring myself a Democrat. I’ll be wearing blue on November 6.

Making Fry Bread

~ Amy Lauters ~ Leave a comment

As promised in the post about the Mahkato Wacipi, I’m discussing the Fry Bread that is a staple at many First Nation gatherings.

The recipe I use comes from a small cookbook I picked up at the Wacipi several years ago, and it offers a bit of back story for the recipe. Fry Bread is one of those recipes that evolved out of the American Indian experience interacting with the U.S. Government. White flour as we know it today was not a part of the original diets of most First Nation tribes.

Flour came into their diets with the distribution of food stuffs and commodities to tribal members living in poverty in the wake of numerous conflicts across the country. Fry Bread became a staple food, using the groceries made available.

I’ve seen several other recipes for Fry Bread, some claimed by different regions and tribes, but they all start with flour and dried milk powder.

This is the recipe I used to make Fry Bread as an after-school snack for my older children when they were teens, and I’ve also used it for small group demonstrations. I’m not an expert on indigenous foods, but this one is pretty tasty and well worth the effort.

Fry Bread

Heat oil for frying. You could use a deep-fat fryer at 375 degrees. I use my enamel-lined, cast-iron Dutch oven filled about half-way with canola oil, heated to about 375. You could use a candy thermometer to check the temp.

Measure out three cups of self-rising flour (or three cups white flour, 1 T. baking powder, 1 t salt, mixed together). Add one cup whole milk (or equivalent in dried milk powder and water). Mix together. Dough will be stiff. Knead briefly and let rest for at least five minutes, while oil is heating.

Turn out dough. Cut into 16 pieces. (I just cut dough into quarters, then in quarters again.) Roll each piece into a ball.

When ready to fry, pick up a dough ball and flatten it into a circle about a quarter to a half-inch thick. Drop into hot fat and fry until golden brown on both sides. Remove to a rack or towel to drain.

Best eaten hot. We like to sprinkle with cinnamon sugar or powdered sugar, to serve with honey. For a savory take, divide the dough into eight pieces instead of 16 before frying. Top these bigger pieces of bread with seasoned ground beef, lettuce and tomatoes to make what’s known as an “Indian Taco.”

The Mahkato Wacipi

~ Amy Lauters ~ Leave a comment

We spent a good portion of our Saturday on the grounds at Land Of Memories Park in Mankato, Minn., for the 46th Annual Mahkato Wacipi, a gathering sponsored by the Shakopee Mdewankanton Sioux Community, the Prairie Island Indian Community, Mankato Area Public Schools, KMSU, and The Center for American Indian Affairs. This year’s theme was “Honoring the 38 Dakota,” and the overall tone was one of reconciliation and reflection about that terrible chapter in Minnesota history.

The 38 refer to the Dakota who were executed on the public square in downtown Mankato on December 26, 1862, in the wake of the Dakota conflicts. The effects of that event and that year on Minnesota culture and living continue to ripple in many ways, and the tribes who sponsor and organize the Wacipi continue to hold it in Mankato in part as a means of calling attention to them, and to foster the reconciliation between First Nation peoples and others in the community.

My husband and I have attended many such gatherings over the years. One of my personal interests in First Nation culture stems from my own search for the roots of the family story that suggests our own descent from one of the tribes on the U.S. eastern seaboard. We can neither confirm nor deny that story at this point, though my search continues.

In those early years of my childhood, I lived in northern Wisconsin, very near the La Courte Oreilles Ojibwa reservation, and in the company of many Ojibwa and St. Croix Chippewa tribe members. While I’ve been told and I’ve read that things were pretty tense in the area of my youth at the time, (it was the late 1970s and the American Indian Movement deeply impacted the area) what I remember was many, many conversations and sharing of cultures.

I distinctly remember a school assembly that featured local tribal leaders in Luck, and my summer day camp featured cultural traditions from the local tribes. One of our guests at that camp was an elder woman who made fry bread over an open fire on the grounds. I remember also trying wild rice and other foods common to our neighbors.

And I remember the drums, and the dancing.

These early events frame my favorite experiences when I go to a gathering. I love to browse the vendor booths featuring handcrafted items, and I always buy at least one pair of earrings. This year’s are hand-cast pewter medallions that feature butterflies. I must taste the fry bread, and I must watch the Grand Entry that features all the dancers and the important songs and ceremony.

We brought our little girls to the Wacipi for the first time this year, and they enjoyed coloring on popsicle sticks to make their own game. They tasted their first fry bread, fresh, hot, and coated in cinnamon sugar. Two elders who sat with us at our picnic table nicknamed my four-year-old “Quick Hands” because she was able to catch her popsicle stick with one hand immediately after dropping it through the crack of the table with the other.

We talked with many people, and my three-year-old literally ran in circles around me as we moved through the grounds. I was able to quietly witness the reconciliation ceremony on Saturday that featured descendants of the 38, while my husband took the girls for another walk through the grounds. But my girls came to me and watched with wide eyes as the Grand Entry began. It featured dancers in order and full regalia, and the rhythm of the drums, the motions of the dance, and the quick melodic jingles of the jingle dresses held their attention through all the first dances.

The Mahkato Wacipi site features a page devoted to dancing etiquette. I’m afraid that my own mobility was limited this year so I didn’t join the dancing, as I often do when Intertribal Dancing is called, but if you’re inspired to go to a Wacipi in the future, do check out the etiquette rules.

The weather was perfect, sunny and cool, and we’ll be glad to go again next September, and meet old and new friends.

And yes, I do have a recipe for Fry Bread. For another post.

Baked Beans

~ Amy Lauters ~ 1 Comment

My mother’s contribution to nearly every holiday feast we had growing up was her from-scratch baked beans.

Baked beans are a classic British dish, often served as breakfast with a full English (which also includes grilled tomatoes, fried eggs, and fried pork) or on toast. My father’s mother, Elsie, always ensured she’d have some of the leftover baked beans to take home, if possible, for her favorite beans-on-toast.

Today, it’s easy to buy baked beans in a can to heat and eat. Recipes for their use as a base also abound. However, the original recipe can’t be topped by something out of a can.

This classic features heavily in the Little House series, in which Laura Ingalls Wilder describes her mother’s procedure for making baked beans and bean soup as staples of winter eating. It was years before I connected those stories with my mother’s recipe and my own enjoyment of baked beans. Another recipe for them can be found in Barbara Walker’s excellent Little House Cookbook.

This recipe, however, comes directly from my mother, who notes that the “bean pot” — a covered crock–is key to the success of the dish. She also notes that her sister, my aunt Julie, often skips the first step and uses plain, rinsed-and-drained, canned navy beans as her starter to cut down on prep time.

Linnea’s Baked Beans

Soak overnight:

1 lb. navy beans.

In the morning, drain the beans, cover again with fresh water and ¾ t. baking soda, and bring just to a simmer. Skim off foam as beans cook. They’re ready when you can spoon up a few and blow on them and the skins crack. Drain again, and add beans to the bean pot.

Add:

½ c. brown sugar

1 sm. onion, chopped

¼ to ⅓ c. molasses

½ lb. bacon, chopped

½ t. black pepper

⅓ t. dry mustard

1 T. salt

Add just enough water to cover the beans. Bake at 300 degrees for at least four hours.

The Music that is History and Culture

~ Amy Lauters ~ 1 Comment

The late David Noble, himself a distinguished historian, assigned a final paper to a seminar I took with him fifteen or so years ago that forced me to think about how I viewed history.

The essay that I turned in offered a metaphor of history as music, and with the cultural tensions that abound in today’s political climate, I decided to revisit that metaphor. Recognizing history and culture as “music” might help some to see that every story is required to create the whole.

The melody through line for history is the chronology: the dates, times and places events of major import occurred in history. For U.S. history, which is driven in part by rebellion of many with British roots, that timeline stretches back to at least 1215 and the signing of the Magna Carta by then-King John of England, who conceded certain rights to the nobility of his holdings with that document.

Those first concessions established precedent. Though it would be centuries before the British monarchy conceded absolute power, the concept that the monarch did not hold absolute authority resonated through the philosophical thought of many.

As school children, we are given dates to memorize, people to memorize, timelines to contextualize so that we can understand this very basic melody line, which is influenced by the victors in any given historical conflict.

And then, if we’re very lucky in our teachers and our curriculum, we start to get the harmonies.

Class harmony, through unveiling the stories of the impoverished, the working, middle, and upper classes over time. Gender harmony, through examining how men’s and women’s lives and stories differed over time. Race harmony, through examining how people interacted with others who looked different from them. Lifestyle harmonies, religious harmonies, urban and rural harmonies, and the multitude of stories of others all work together to share the rich symphony of history and culture. All are worth investigating. All are worth hearing.

In places throughout the melody, the drum beats of war and conflict overpower the harmonies of culture. The inability of people to recognize the varied harmonies—and those harmonies’ right to exist and contribute to the chord—creates conflict, clashing chords, clashing melodies that have to work together, eventually, to create a new chord, or to subsume a melody line.

I hear a lot of literal discord today; clashing notes from two through lines that can’t seem to find the place to harmonize. But I think it’s important find that chord that creates the harmony. Because when it can’t be found, one melody line may be lost.

Adventures in DC: National Museum of African American History and Culture

~ Amy Lauters ~ Leave a comment

This is the line for tickets to the National Museum of African-American History and Culture in Washington, D.C., last Thursday. The museum is the newest of the Smithsonian museums, and timed entry passes, which are free, are booked through December 2018. The only way to get a ticket the day of a visit in D.C., if one didn’t plan six months in advance, is to haunt the web site at 6:30 a.m. or get in line at 1 p.m. for walk-up release tickets.

Fortunately, I had friends who were already in this line, and when I joined it at 12:39, I waited for less than an hour to get a ticket into the museum. It was worth the effort and wait.

I started my visit with lunch at the Sweet Home Cafe, which featured soul food from different areas of the American South. I had buttermilk fried chicken, scratch-made macaroni-and-cheese, and fresh cornbread. My other choices were collard greens, potato salad, gumbo, barbecue, and a wide variety of other foods. I also added a mini-carrot cake to my tray to share with my companions. More on soul food in another post; it’s become one of my cooking goals since I adopted my oldest two children, who are African-American and requested it when they became a part of the family as teens.

After eating, I headed down to the very bottom level, which is where the permanent exhibits begin. They start with the history of the sugar trade in the fifteenth century and the gradual institutionalization of slavery. The exhibits include African artifacts, shackles and pieces of slave ships.

As patrons move through the exhibits chronologically, they move up vertically, too, with the very bottom level dealing with the debates over slavery at the founding of the United States, life as a slave, and the gradual movement, fought for with blood and pain, out of slavery. The ramp up to the next level begins with a presentation about the Emancipation Proclamation, on display next to a draft of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution, which legally freed the slaves.

Also on that bottom level? Harriet Tubman’s shawl, and Nat Turner’s Bible. For those who don’t know, Tubman escaped the in humane conditions she was living under as a slave, but returned nine times to the South to help others escape. Turner’s rebellion against slaveholders ended with his execution.

The next level outlines the long struggle from freedom through the beginning of the Civil Rights movement, including cabins from all-black settlements and the Emmitt Till Memorial. The counter from the Greensboro Walgreens that witnessed the first sit-in also looms large in this level.

The third level, rising up from the Civil Rights struggles, features contemporary African-American contributions and ends with an exhibit about the first African-American President, Barack Obama.

Outside the permanent exhibits, there are three levels above ground that feature rotating culture galleries. On my visit, one featured Oprah Winfrey and another featured hip-hop music.

The sheer volume of artifacts collected for the Museum, in context, makes the experience both moving and inspirational. I highly recommend a visit on your next trip to D.C.