History Department

Student Feature: Kiley Corcoran

Three hours. Two teams. One rope. The Pull is one of the longest running collegiate traditions in America. This year, for the 120th time, Even Year and Odd Year will go head to head, trying to pull as much rope as they can across the river.

In the spring semester of 2017, I researched the tradition of the Pull as part of my Hist 140 class. The first Pull is believed to have been held in 1898 (The Pull), and since then there have only been four known instances of the event being cancelled: 1918, 1943, 1944 (due to both World Wars) and 1957 (flu outbreak on campus). For safety reasons, the Pull can only last three hours before the judges call the results.

All teams are referred to by the last two numbers of their graduating year. For example, this year will be the graduating class of 2020 versus the class of 2021, who are referred to as 2-0 (two-oh) and 2-1 (two-one), respectively. Students who graduate in an odd year are part of the “Odd Year” team, and those who graduate in an even year are considered “Even Year”. The juniors (Class of ‘19) coach the freshmen (Class of ‘21), and the seniors (Class of ‘18) coach the sophomores (Class of ‘20). Each team is made up of 40 freshmen and sophomores respectively: 20 pullers and 20 moralers. The pullers are the ones pulling the rope, and the moralers tell them what to do, give them water, and keep their spirits up throughout the long event.

As a member of the 2-0 Freshman Pull Team last year, I witnessed and experienced the physical and emotional toll of this event firsthand. The Pull puts the participants’ bodies through stress like nothing else. Practices lasts for three weeks in the month of September, preparing everyone’s bodies as much as possible for Pull Day. The rope itself does damage to the pullers: It tears the skin on their hands and they need to wear handmade vests in order to keep the rope from burning their sides as they pull it. An 8-0 Puller, David J. Stevens, recounts shaking an odd-year pullers hand after the event, saying “…all we could do was smile and give each other one of the firmest and most meaningful handshakes that I have ever exchanged (considering that about a quarter of the skin of my hands was still on the rope, it was also one of the most painful)” (Powe).

It’s difficult for people who haven’t participated in the Pull to understand the impact it has on its participants. Shannon Vanderspool, a 9-6 moraler, described her experience of the Pull; “But, oh, when you’re a part of it – the smell of dirt and tape, the grimy feel of the rope, the hoarse voices and blistered hands…you remember how you felt as part of the family, working and laughing and crying together. It’s inimitable” (Powe). The Pull is extremely taxing physically, but the impact it has on the campus and its participants is important. It gives students, particularly in their first year, a place to belong, and people to turn to. They’re a part of something bigger than themselves, and all the insanity and tradition is worth it to them.

If you want to see firsthand what the Pull is, this weekend is your chance. On September 30th, from 3:00-6:00 PM, both banks of the Black River will be alive with cheering, chanting, and screaming. Whether you’re standing on the Even or Odd side, the electricity in the air on Pull Day is something that has to be experienced firsthand. Only one team will get to take the victory swim in the river. We don’t know which team that is, but neither team is going down without a fight.

The Pull | Hope College http://www.hope.edu/offices/student-life/pull/ (accessed September 26, 2017).

Powe, Lynne. The Pull, 1898-1997: A Century of Tradition at Hope College. Holland, MI: Hope College, 1997.

The Long Shadow of Vietnam

“Fierce!” Hope College Women with Vietnamese at Buddhist Center

The 2017 Vietnam May Term was the first ever such experience offered to Hope College students. For two weeks, eight fierce young women helped their two gasping male professor chaperones keep up as we traveled across the immense beauty of Vietnam. At the risk of sounding like a cliché, the Vietnam May Term was a life-changing experience. The people of America’s former bitter enemy welcomed us with world-class hospitality, but always hovering and extending a long shadow was the living memory of the war.

Looking into the faces of Vietnamese Hmong children, one tried to imagine the fear and passion that had cost 58,000 American and countless Vietnamese lives. For young American and Vietnamese soldiers, waging war in a land of such breathtaking scenery, and whose people possessed such a rich history, must have heightened the incongruity.

One of many buildings at the Royal Ancient City of Hue

Artistry and Beauty at the Royal Ancient City of Hue

The Prior Marine Hope History Professor Ponders the Tactical Geography at Dien Bien Phu

When we traveled to Dien Bien Phu, pieces started falling into place. In 1954, French commanders, determined to preserve their nation’s right to dominate as Vietnam’s colonial master, casually ceded the highlands to their opponents. One need not be a military genius to quickly deduce the dangers of surrendering such an advantage. Presumptions of inherent Vietnamese inferiority proved costly. France’s subsequent defeat and withdrawal from Vietnam underscored the extent of French hubris and highlighted the perils of Western racism.

France’s defeat, happening so soon after America’s frustrating stalemate against the communists during the Korean War [1950-1953], underscored the urgency to stand firm against global communism’s clear and present danger. With the situation compounded by the reduction of international complexities to simplifications of East vs. West, Communism vs. Capitalism, Good vs. Evil, Us vs. Them, the turmoil in Vietnam became the de facto possession of the United States.

Over forty years later, Americans are still wrestling with the “How” and “Why” of the Vietnam War. The most recent large-scale attempt to uncover answers to those questions happened on September 18, 2017, when PBS aired Episode I of The Vietnam War by documentarians Ken Burns and Lynn Novick.

As I watched the program, memories of the May Term were immediately refreshed. Seeing the actual places where Vietnamese and American soldiers had clashed in bloody combat deepened my comprehension of the conflict while challenging me to understand humanity’s ongoing love affair with war. I recalled the powerful bond between the combat vet Marines who trained me in OCS [Officer Candidates School] and how they’d privileged me, and my fellow officer candidates, with their knowledge. Most importantly, I resolved to fight harder against attempts to dismiss the necessity of history. For as one of my undergraduate professors at Bowie State College once proclaimed: “War is a joke that old men play on the young.”

Knowing history may not ultimately prevent war, but it can serve as a powerful force of mitigation. Because it’s difficult to play such lethal jokes on the young when they know the backstory, nature, and motivations of the joke-tellers. Knowing history makes it harder for chicken-hawk leaders to bamboozle and bedazzle with their blustery talk. Knowing history makes it harder to send other people’s children to war while the senders obscure that they’ll bear little, or none, of the cost. History shouts cautionary reminders that Vietnam vets were also once young, did their duty, and returned home to a nation determined to forget the war, and them. History challenges contemporary Americans to demand the same dedication and self-sacrifice from its leaders that is expected of the young people who are, have been, and will be sent to war.

Many Vietnamese sincerely told me that, while they’ve forgiven those responsible for the deaths of so many of each nation’s best and brightest, they will not forget. They choose to remember their history. They choose to learn. They choose to have a future that honors the sacrifices of the past. During the 2017 May Term they did so by accepting their American visitors as brothers and sisters.

Photographic Memory: My History Journey to Holland in World War I

Me in front of a wagon at a local museum, ca. 2006. I’ve always loved history and poor hair decisions.

Student Feature: by Aine O’Connor

My history begins with a photo album. The album follows the childhood and adolescence of my mother and her four siblings, tracing their stories. It is a green book overflowing with papers and letters. Everything that you could possibly imagine is stuffed in there. Birth records, First Communion Polaroids, school photos, and high school diplomas line the pages. Creases run through the binding now, and although it is almost five decades older than me, I am convinced the cracks come from the unbelievable number of times I opened it. Long before I knew what a major was, or that Hope College existed—even before I could read—I have clear memories of spending hours poring over that album.

When I finally arrived at Hope College almost exactly a year ago as an undeclared History and English major, my mind floated back to that old photo album. Since I had learned to read, books and literature had taken over my life. All I did was read, taking in unbelievable amounts of information useful to almost no one. I could have told you all of the presidents in order, and I probably would have thrown in a random fact for each one (Millard Fillmore married his schoolteacher!). But as I threw myself into my history methods class and other upper-level courses, I found myself drawn more and more to the photographic evidence. What were they trying to say, I wondered. What were photographs trying to tell me?

As it turns out, both the photographs you take and the photographs you find say a lot. I learned that most poignantly this summer. Along with my two research colleagues, Avery Lowe and Natalie Fulk, I researched the Holland, Michigan and Hope College experience of World War One. I was shocked at how moving the photographs taken during this time could be, even one hundred years later. For much of the project, I followed the exploits of Hope College soldiers at the front, told mostly through Hope College’s newspaper The Anchor. This was a fascinating experience, but it was not until I started to carefully comb through yearbook photos in the Milestone that their stories became real. These were men my age,who fought and died for my country. One of them, Ernest Vanden Bosch, lost his left leg in battle, returned to Hope, and graduated four years later as president of his class. Remarkable people, leading remarkable lives, reserved for posterity in a yearbook photo.

All of these photos, and more, can be viewed at our website, “We All Must Do Our Utmost: Holland, Michigan in World War I.” While you’re there, I would advise you to take a look at the “Hollander Heroes” page, as well. Many of these men had no yearbook full of easily accessible photos to look back on. Instead, I was lucky enough to go and photograph their graves at Pilgrim Home Cemetery in Holland. Even though their journey here on Earth ended in Holland, their history journey had only just begun. Someday, when my college memories are just pictures in a photo album, I will include these soldiers, part of a history journey that is only just beginning.

Welcome Back!

By Jeanne Petit

Welcome back to a new semester! We are getting the history department blog going again, and we look forward to sharing stories of our students, faculty, and alumni over the course of the academic year. In the meantime, I want to fill you in on how we faculty in the history department spend our summer.

You could find Hope history faculty all of the world this summer. In May, Dr. Janes and students explored art and history on the Paris May Term,

Lauren Janes with Prof. Heidi Kraus and their students in front of the Chateau de Versailles after a full-day bike tour.

and Dr. Johnson taught the history of the Vietnam War as part of the new Hope College Vietnam May Term.

Fred Johnson teaching students in Vietnam-War era bunker.

In June, Dr. Gibbs spent her 19th summer teaching students at the Vienna Summer School, Hope College Vienna Summer School, while Dr. Tseng attended conferences on missionary history in Liverpool, England, and New Haven, Connecticut.

Gloria Tseng a Yale Divinity School for the Yale-Edinburgh Group Meeting on History of Missionary Movement and World Christianity.

Back in Holland, Dr. Hagood led the Faith and Scholarship series while taking the reins as the new Associate Dean of Teaching and Learning. Dr. Albert Bell saw the publication of Fortune’s Fool, the sixth book in his Pliny the Younger mystery novel series.

Dr. Wayne Tan received a book contract from University of Michigan Press for his manuscript titled “Blindness in Japan: The Remarkable Histories of a Disability.” We can’t wait for the book to come out!

I had the privilege to work with a team of Hope history majors examining the history of World War I in Holland Michigan. Three students–Natalie Fulk, Avery Lowe, and Aine O’Connor–spent eight weeks digging into local archives and reading old newspapers, and put together a web exhibit that explores how this major global event transformed this small community on the shores of Lake Michigan. You can see it here: https://sites.google.com/hope.edu/holland-wwi/

There will be many great activities and speakers this year, so check out our colloquium website for upcoming events. Be sure to attend our first colloquium on Tuesday, September 5 in Room 100A in the Bultman Student Center (i.e. the Programming Area). Dr. Johnson and I will team up with colleagues in Art History and Sociology to participate in the Vox Populi panel: “The Confederacy in 2017: The Flag, the Memorials, the Controversy.”

Feel free to contact me if you would like to write a blog post for us!

Having fun at commencement with Bingo!

By Jonathan Hagood

One of the most important goals for all students who enroll in a college or university is to graduate—and the pomp and circumstance that make up the commencement ceremony. This is an august, solemn, and weighty occasion. It can also, for those of us who attend every year, be quite boring. I’ve seen colleagues grade papers, read journals and books, catch some screen time, nap… we also share stories about students (treasured and not) and cheer on those we knew well as their names are called and they walk across the stage. Still, the gap in time between students that I know can be long. What to do both to pass the time and to stay focused…?

I started playing Commencement Bingo four years ago, and it’s now an expected and cherished tradition at my school. Here are the basics:

An 8-1/2” x 11” sheet of cardstock has a grid of sixty squares: the five letters in BINGO multiplied by the twelve letters in COMMENCEMENT.
Each square has a randomly selected first name, drawn from the most frequently occurring names in the graduating class.
Six of the squares are marked as a FREE SPACE.
I do all of this in Excel, and I randomize the squares, making 25 distinct versions of the card (it’s more fun if your neighbor’s card has a different arrangement of names).
A sheet of 55 stars—Avery® Assorted Foil Star Labels 6007 (http://www.avery.com/avery/en_us/Products/Labels/Identification-Labels/Foil-Star-Labels_06007.htm)—accompanies each card.
When a first name is read aloud, you mark the appropriate square with a star.

It’s relatively simple—and fun! My colleagues and I find that playing Commencement Bingo not only passes the time, but we also pay more attention to the names of students as they are called. In addition, I find myself reflecting on and remembering particular students whose first names I have on my sheet. For example, in the Class of 2017 one of the most frequent names is Elizabeth, and I thought about the many Elizabeths, Lizzes, Beths, etc. that I have taught both recently and over the years. Waiting for a relatively rare name can also lead to cheering from the faculty. For some reason this year it took a while for a Justin to walk across the stage, but when he did several faculty members who had been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to star a Justin-square on their cards cheered. Someone next to me said, “I bet Justin’s wondering why the faculty are so happy for him.”

Over the years I’ve learned some necessary tweaks. The card originally started as a 5×5 grid, but that was not enough to last through our 700+ students. Even expanded to 5×12, many faculty finished “too soon.” So, I added the feature of having two squares with the full names of students I knew would be at the end of the ceremony. At our school, those are students graduating with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN). That way, every player has to wait until the end of Commencement to finish. This year, I realized that there is still a gap between filling out the first-name squares and waiting for the nurses. So, next year I plan to add squares for full names of students that I know will be in the last third of the ceremony (for us, students receiving Bachelor of Music or Bachelor of Science degrees). I think I might also add some open-ended, but personal squares, like “One of Your Advisees” or “Student You Knew Well.”

I have also added an element of winning prizes. Players who write their names on their cards and turn them in to me are entered into a drawing for a tote bag with swag inside. The bag is labeled “Commencement Bingo,” and my hope is that over the years it becomes a hot commodity.

Because I am a history professor, on the back of the card I provide some interesting data. I list the top 50 names for the graduating class (Class of 2017), the top 15 baby names for the years in which they were born (1994-96), the top 15 baby names for 100 years before (1884-86)—I don’t see a lot of Franks or Ethels in my classrooms these days, and the top 15 baby names for last year (the Class of 2038?). I also included an article from our student newspaper re: the graduating class of 1917: “Seniors on Wild Rampage of Festivities: Celebrate With Two Parties In Last Week of School” (http://digitalcommons.hope.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1021&context=anchor_1917). I’m not sure as many of my colleagues enjoy this side of the card as much I do, and so next year I think I might add a Commencement Crossword Puzzle. Lots of opportunities there.

Does playing bingo take away from the augustness, solemnity, and weight of the commencement ceremony? I don’t think so. I hope not. There are certainly folks who decline to play, but I’ve yet to hear anything negative from administrators above my pay grade—in fact, more than one of them have given me positive feedback. One of my colleagues told me that she shared knowledge of this faculty “tradition” with her students and reported that they all thought it was great fun. That said, I am sensitive to folks who might think otherwise. I know of at least one colleague who has told me that she doesn’t think it is appropriate and therefore does not participate. Returning to where I started, I’d like to think that it helps me to focus and think about the students. I would also argue that playing bingo honors the students and the occasion more than does grading papers, reading, checking social media, or napping. If anything, Commencement Bingo contributes to the merriment and celebration that should rightly accompany the gravity of the situation. Yes, our students have accomplished much, and this is a serious moment. It is also a time to smile, laugh, clap, and cheer.

Bingo!

Student Feature: Joseph Williams

When I tell most people what I plan on doing for my gap year before law school, they get confused. Then, I tell them I’m a history major, and they get even more confused. Following graduation, I plan on playing professional handball in Europe. Most history majors share my desire for adventure, and thanks to Hope College, we are equipped to pursue whatever adventure we can dream of. I hope by sharing my story, more history majors will feel emboldened to take the road less traveled and seek adventure wherever they can find it.

I first saw team handball in the 2012 Olympics and knew that it was something I wanted to try. For those who aren’t familiar with the sport, it’s not the handball you’ll find at the YMCA. The goal of the game is to put the volleyball-sized ball into a small soccer net located at each end of a basketball-sized court. Each team has six players plus a goalkeeper (my position.. I hate running), and players move the ball by dribbling and passing. The sport is almost non-existent in the United States, but it is the second most popular European sport, which is where the best professional handball opportunities are. Since first seeing the game in 2012, I have been selected to the Junior Men’s National team three times, and have competed and trained in places like Croatia, Sweden, and Paraguay. Thanks to Hope College, I have been able to chase this dream, and many others, from playing NCAA lacrosse to being challenged as a student-athlete to joining the best fraternity in America (Rush OKE).

There are many reasons why being a history major has helped me during my handball career. History majors have an uncanny ability to take many primary source materials and interpret them. This allows me to observe games at an analytical level that is beyond the understanding of my opponents, which is a big asset as a goalie. As both a history major and an aspiring professional athlete, I have to work diligently towards a deadline, whether it be game day preparations or typing a 20-page research paper. Most importantly, both handball and history allow me to experience people and places that I otherwise wouldn’t. While studying history, I have been able to experience places from colonial Africa to pre-Brexit Britain, and have met some fantastic mentors like Professor Baer and Professor Tseng. Playing handball has given me the chance to be the face of the United States to people who would otherwise never encounter an American. Thanks to handball, I have been able to make friends and meet coaches from countries like Malta, Finland, Bosnia, and Chile. I have also been able to experience some interesting things, like being woken up by gunfire outside the hotel 3/4 nights in Paraguay. At the heart of every history major is a desire to experience this beautiful world from various perspectives, and handball lets me do that.

Alumni Feature: “What on earth would I do with a history major?”

By Jessica Patrick Majerowicz ’04

I arrived at Hope College with no idea what I wanted to do. I enjoyed history but had not considered pursing it as a career. As soon as classes began I was surrounded by the history department in some form or another; Professor Baer was my advisor/freshman seminar professor and I had ancient civilizations with Professor Cohen. One day Professor Cohen pulled me aside and asked if I had ever considered pursuing a history major. I was surprised and said that no I hadn’t. He said I should. The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. But then the obvious question came up, what on earth would I do with a history major? I figured I had two choices: teach or live in a cardboard box. I was a little nervous about teaching- most people I knew who wanted to teach had been dreaming about it since they were little and that was definitely not me!

To make this work I knew I needed to teach high school or college. One of my favorite things about history is it is not black and white, but nuanced and downright messy. It teaches us how to think critically and challenge commonly held beliefs. I wanted to teach students old enough to really grapple with some of its complex questions. There is also the issue that I am very sarcastic and was afraid I would make kids under the age of 14 cry.

After student teaching, I knew I was in the right place. High schoolers are so fun; they are trying to figure out how to be adults but are still kind of goofy. It’s not always easy but there is nothing more rewarding than when a student finally understands a concept or simply figures out that hard work translates to success. I always thought I’d only want to teach AP kids, but was surprised to discover I liked teaching students with disabilities just as much.

I’ve also had some really unique opportunities as a teacher. While spending a semester at the University of Aberdeen my junior year, I was bit hard by the travel bug and a few years after graduation I was hit with a desperate need to get out of the country. Unfortunately, the downside to teaching is that it’s not the most lucrative field and travel is expensive. Luckily I discovered a company that did tours for students and decided to give it a try. It’s fantastic! Traveling with students is amazing- getting to watch them experience firsthand what they learned in school is the ultimate teacher/history nerd high. I’ve done four tours with students- one to Greece and China and two to Italy (and I’m taking another group back to Italy this summer).

One of the things I’m most proud of is the creation of a new elective. After I finished my master’s degree in global history I decided it was time to put my new skills to use by creating my dream class. I proposed a women’s history/studies elective to our school board and it was unanimously approved. It has run for three straight years and keeps getting bigger every year. I run it as a seminar/project based course where we go through the basics of women in world and U.S. history and tie it into modern women’s issues. I’m very passionate about women’s issues worldwide and this course gives me the opportunity to make my students more aware. They are continually shocked by the human rights abuses women still face in the modern world and want to help change things. To encourage my students to think about how they could create real change in the world they create a hypothetical organization to combat a particular issue for their final project. They do a fantastic job and I have no doubt that some of my students will actually turn their project into something real in the future.

I never pictured myself as a teacher but it has been one of the most rewarding things I have ever done. So if you are thinking about pursuing teaching with your history degree but don’t feel like you fit the profile of a typical teacher, never fear. There is no one right way to be a teacher and you may just find your own uniqueness is just what future students need to succeed.

Seeing is Appreciating: An Ai Weiwei Exhibit in West Michigan

By Gloria Tseng

Ai Weiwei is not a neutral figure. His work is intentionally provocative. He has bucked the authority of the Chinese government and the power at the disposal of an authoritarian regime, having suffered physical abuse during a stint in prison and personally witnessed the government-ordered destruction of one of his studios. In short, Ai’s international renown is inseparable from his reputation as a political dissident.

Having read about the artist, his political activism, and the wide range of media in which he works, I had an ambivalent opinion of Ai and his work. I admired his courage but did not appreciate his angry, intentional, and at times crude provocations. His is a needed voice—I reluctantly acknowledged—but I wondered if I would find beauty in his work. Thus, when I first learned that Ai’s work would be exhibited at Frederick Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park in Grand Rapids, I was thrilled. What a treat it would be to see the exhibit with students who are taking my Modern China class this semester! Off we went on a rainy Tuesday evening in February, joined by Professor Steve Smith from the Department of Economics and Business and Mrs. Smith.

Seeing his work in person gave me a newfound appreciation of Ai as an artist. His versatility—mastery of both traditional art forms and digital media, as well as many genres in between—is even greater than what I previously read about him. Seeing the actual artworks, and not merely pictures of them, brought the man’s creative gifts to the fore. The visual arts “speak” eloquently where words fail.

One of my favorite installations at the exhibit was a pile of ceramic river crabs—each one skillfully crafted, inviting the viewer to a feast of sorts. River crabs are a treat in Chinese cuisine. Ai invited his fans in November 2010 to a party featuring river crabs upon learning that the authorities of Shanghai were going to demolish his newly built studio in a village near Shanghai. The destruction of the studio occurred in January 2011. The crabs, long digested by now, were an “eat-and-tell” commentary on the Chinese government’s motto of promoting social “harmony”—héxié—which sounds almost the same as river crabs—héxiè. The ceramic ones, of course, continue to “speak” in protest against the arbitrary powers of the Chinese state wherever they are exhibited.

As for Ai, he continues to speak through his art, offering provocative and thought-provoking reflections not only on conditions in his native China but also on issues faced by our global world. One of his upcoming exhibits, entitled “Good Fences Make Good Neighbors,” will open in New York City in October. Ai will build more than 100 fences and installations across several boroughs of the quintessential American metropolis. Is anyone interested in going to New York this fall?

Alumni Feature: Tim Fry

“Do you think your college prepared you to succeed in law school?” It seemed pretty clear the interviewer from my top choice law school did not believe Hope College prepared me for a competitive environment.

You may not know it yet, but Hope is not well-known outside Michigan. Wearing “HOPE” sweatshirts, since graduation, led to multiple “what a nice sentiment” comments. With the exception of my boss in the federal government (a Calvin grad), our school was an unknown commodity in the DC-metro area where I worked prior to law school. For me, Hope was not a brand instantly opening doors. You have to be able to open your own door.

The History Department can help you do that. I agree with my fellow alums’ contributions to this blog – reading, analyzing, and writing are critical. They will
get you far. The History Department challenged me in all the same ways. I’ll never forget my first essay being returned with more red ink than the black ink jet provided when turned in. I still read Hemingway from time to time before writing. Write short, concise sentences, Tim, not run-ons. Many moments challenged my thinking in class.

But, for me, faculty mentorships gave me the most. Some have since moved on from Hope, and some are still on the faculty and checking in with me. All have been critical. I was invited to their offices and even homes. I was challenged intellectually. I felt respected; an adult; a professional; an equal (even if I still use honorifics, e.g., Dr.). Assignments were not just assignments; professors were going to challenge arguments I considered minor. I’d have to consider texts I would not have otherwise read. It raised my game. It gave me confidence that I could succeed.

Hope allowed me to serve in the student government. I traveled and studied in Washington, DC, South Africa, and Zimbabwe. I met my wife. All were important (especially my spouse, who is going to proof this blog post), but to my career, this mentoring and belief was critical.

Today, I work at a major international law firm with over a thousand attorneys. I serve healthcare clients involved in major mergers and acquisitions addressing the complex and changing healthcare regulatory landscape. I hope to become as trusted an advisor as the History Department faculty were for me. Indeed, I ask and am asked very similar questions – Have you thought about it in this other way? Have you looked at this other source? How do these two circumstances interact? How can we improve this together?

Seven years after my law school interview, I don’t remember my answer. Time, however, has answered. My law school classmates bestowed an honor on me as the member of our class who had done the most to preserve the traditions of our law school. A national legal organization and my school awarded my student legal note (a legal academic paper written by students) with awards. Last year, my law firm acknowledged me among a handful of associates for excellence. Yes, interviewer, I can make it. Thanks to growth spurred by mentorship and support from the History Department Faculty, I can make it anywhere. You can too. Get involved. Get to know the faculty and build relationships. The best way to know that you are equipped to go toe-to-toe with other professionals is to have already succeeded by facing similar critics and collaborators in the History Department.

Reflecting on the 100th Anniversary of the U.S. Entry into World War I

By Jeanne Petit

One hundred years ago, on April 2, 1917, President Woodrow Wilson asked Congress to declare war on Germany, and on April 4, Congress declared war against Germany. As we reflect on the impact of this war on our nation, we first turn to the loss of over 100,000 American soldiers in combat or from disease. In the larger picture, however, the United States losses pale in comparison to the millions of Europeans who perished. The American Expeditionary Force only participated in a major way during the last seven months, although their contribution was decisive in many battles. Yet when we look beyond the U.S. military role, we can see the many ways that World War I impacted American society.

For one, the war forced Americans to face how diverse their society had become. Since the Civil War, over 20 million immigrants had come to the United States, making up 15% of the population. Native-born troops found themselves fighting alongside immigrants from 46 nations. Officials also had to confront the greater religious diversity as they built the army. At first, the War Department asked the Protestant Young Men’s Christian Association to provide recreation services to the troops, but they received complaints from Catholics and Jews, who argued that large percentages of the soldiers, particularly the nearly 20% who were immigrants, were not Protestant. To accommodate this religious diversity, the military allowed the Knights of Columbus, and the Jewish Welfare Board to also have recreational facilities.

The War Department did a less impressive job of dealing with African-American soldiers. The Army was still segregated, and African Americans faced continual abuse and violence and were relegated to the worst jobs, like digging latrines and removing the dead. Those who had the opportunity to engage in battle proved their worth as soldiers, such as the infantry regiment known as the Harlem Hellfighters. They fought for 190 days and ceded no ground to the Germans. They received the French Croix de Guerre and returned as heroes.

The nation’s growing diversity also became an issue at home. Some leaders, like Theodore Roosevelt, argued that immigrants had to reject “the hyphen” and prove themselves to be “100% American.” German Americans felt the brunt of suspicion as native-born Americans went to far as to purge German words from their vocabularies. For instance, sauerkraut became known as “freedom cabbage.” Yet the Wilson administration knew that they could not alienate immigrants, and they used propaganda to promote their inclusion into American civic life. One poster, titled “Americans All.” had an image of Lady Liberty and an “honor roll” of Irish, Italian, Slavic, Scandinavian and other ethnic names (although not German). Many immigrants embraced the opportunity to prove their love of the nation by enlisting in the Army, participating in Liberty Loan campaigns, and volunteering for the Red Cross.

World War I also made apparent to Americans how central women had become to their society. Over 20,000 women served as nurses during the war, and for the first time, active duty women served in other capacities, mostly clerical duties that freed men to fight. Thousands of women also went to France and worked for the YMCA and Red Cross. The women known as “Hello Girls” served as bilingual telephone operators and the Salvation Army’s “doughnut girls,” named after the treat they made for soldiers, became the most popular sight on the front. Beyond service to the military, American women on the home front took up industrial jobs in munitions factories and other areas as men volunteered or were drafted.

During this time, the decades-long fight for women’s suffrage reached a crescendo. Some women took militant action, such as when Alice Paul chained herself to the White House gates and compared Wilson’s anti-suffrage stance to the oppression of the German Kaiser. Other activists, like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, argued that wartime service proved that women deserved full civil rights. Woodrow Wilson became convinced, and on September 30, 1918, he backed women’s suffrage, declaring, “we have made partners of the women in this war…Shall we admit them only to a partnership of suffering and sacrifice and toil and not to a partnership of privilege and right?” Congress passed the 19th Amendment a year later, and on August 18, 1920, it was finally ratified.

This summer, I will be working with a team of history majors to examine the impact of World War I on a very specific part of the U.S. home front: Holland, Michigan. We will do research in local and regional archives to find the perspectives of the soldiers who went to France to fight the Germans and Siberia to fight the Red Army. We will also read about the perspectives of the men and women who stayed in Holland and see how the war shaped their lives. One central question we will explore is: how did the war affect the ways the people in this community, largely made up of Dutch immigrants and their descendants, saw themselves as Americans? We will be creating a web exhibit that will present our findings–look for it in the fall of 2017!