University Scholar Katherine DeClaire spent her time in the collections investigating how ideals of women’s behavior and sexual health informed the activity of women in the suffrage as well as the labor movements. She examined conduct books for young men and women, as well as the papers and scrapbooks of the labor activist Margaret Dreier Robins.
Her paper “Disorderly Conduct: Women’s Health and Women’s Rights (1883-1930) was just published in the latest issue of the Journal of Undergraduate Research, which was just released this month.
You can read Katherine’s article, as well as the other articles in the edition, by clicking the button below.
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Chrishann Walcott
As the semester concludes, I’d like to take a reflective glance at the materials that I have come across in the Special Collections. At the beginning of my research, I intended to focus more on the influence of two major religions—Judaism and Christianity—on politics and culture in America during the early 20th century. After taking a deep dive into Koreshanity, I became interested in investigating the so-called “offshoots:” religious and spiritual communities that classified as utopias, as documented by late 19th and early 21st century materials.
Now, what is a utopia? Edward Bellamy’s 1888 fiction novel “Looking Backward,” depicts a utopia as a state of collectivism in which society has reached its ideal state. Bellamy’s ideas were a response to the volatile sociopolitical reform movements of the late 19th century. Some of these ideas have flowed into the principle of communitarianism that had become central to the foundation and maintenance of many of these utopian communities. Utopian communities are bound together through a collective mutual identity, whether that identity is spiritual or political.
Spiritual utopian communities, in particular, mark their communes as sacred spaces, usually isolated or physically demarcated from the rest of the world. In the post-civil war era, Spiritualist movements blossomed as many wished to reconnect with their deceased loved ones, something that they could not do under the restraints of traditional Protestantism, but could do with the help of spiritual mediums who act as intermediaries between the physical and spiritual world. Furthermore, the age of Spiritualism coincided with the women’s rights movements, and thus women played a crucial role in the movement by gaining authority as spiritual mediums.
In the collections, I came across a 1972 newspaper clipping from The Floridian detailing the activities of a Spiritualist Camp in Cassadaga, dubbed the “Psychic capital of the world”. The commune was established in the mid-1890s by the prominent medium George P. Colby as led by spiritual guides to “…fulfill a prophecy and found a retreat in the wilderness,”—a revelation not uncommon among leaders of communes or religious sects. More communes rose along the East Coast as the movement grew in popularity and believers wished to create a definite structure for their doctrines.
Diagram of “The Mounts of the Hand,” from the Study of Palmistry (c. 1900)
Currently, Cassadaga maintains its status as a community with a set of flexible theologies and is run by trained individuals that provide services such as healing, palm readings, and other means of clairoyance. One subject that I found interesting to dive into was the role that religious commercialization has played in the Spiritualism movement, and in the livelihood of Cassadaga in particular. The commercialization of Spiritualism reinstates a fundamental boundary between devoted believers those who might be hesitant of such practices and seek to exploit followers for monetary gain.
By taking a look backwards at utopian communities within the state of Florida, we can understand how and why certain beliefs and customs have persisted through time—appreciating the spirit of mutual acceptance that binds members together and their stories. This fellowship allowed me to explore how religious and spiritual beliefs in the context of utopian communities have been perceived by the general public and think more critically about how such material is presented in popular culture. In the future, I wish to learn more about other communities that may have been obscured in mainstream history.
A later “sixpence” edition of Edward Bellamy’s “Looking Backward” (1900) sold in illustrated pink paper wrappers
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Natalie Triana
The time I have spent as a Discovery Research Fellow this semester has been nothing short of fulfilling. I was able to dive into the history of the conservation movement, explore new questions about people’s environmental values, and gained an even greater motivation for pursuing these topics in the future. As a bonus, I was able to spend my time in the Special & Area Studies Collection reading room in Smathers Library –– UF’s most stunning library (in my personal opinion, at least).
As I read books from early environmentalists, such as William Bartram, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, and John Muir, I noticed differing perspectives regarding the value of nature in relation to humans. Authors like Thoreau and Emerson argue for nature’s intrinsic value, whereas others discuss the “uses” nature provides to human beings. These contrasting ideologies reaffirm the concepts I was learning in one of my academic classes this semester, which questions why humans act (or don’t act) on their environmental values.
UF’s copy of John Muir’s The Mountains of California (1894) is inscribed to Sarah Ann Hodgson of Cedar Key, FL, who helped Muir recover from illness during his travels through the state.
The volume also contains clippings about Muir, the national parts, and nature books, ranging from the 1890s to the 1980s
In this class, I learned that many people are incentivized to act sustainably because nature serves a function to us (food, recreation, economic prosperity, etc.). Unfortunately, the downside to this thought process is that our emphasis on nature’s “use” perpetuates the notion that it is inferior to humans and therefore must benefit us to be valued. This causes many people to overlook endangered species and ecosystems that may appear useless or unattractive to the human eye. By examining how different authors view nature’s value, I hope to reexamine the way environmentalists communicate the need for climate action to a general audience. In the future, I would like to see environmentalism shift from an egocentric perspective to a biocentric perspective, where people can appreciate the environment not only for its services but for its mere existence.
Research from the CURE class was presented at UF’s Undergraduate Research Symposium in April 2022
Overall, this research fellowship has inspired, intrigued, and informed me beyond what I expected. In the future, I will take the skills that I learned, such as conducting individual research, exploring areas of interest, and knowing how to find materials in a library collection, with me to law school and beyond. This opportunity has allowed me to become more well-versed in environmental literature and in archival research as a whole.
This post comes from Discovery Fellow Christian Harris
In continuation of my research, I first observed current trends in Geometry education. While understanding that visual stimulus is appreciated in modern math education, I wanted to look at specific findings surrounding the use of diagrams, such as Byrne’s Elements. Overall, it seems that diagrams are becoming an increasingly popular tool for math education. As programming and digital tools have developed, our ability to visually demonstrate “difficult” math concepts has increased dramatically since Byrne’s writing. These visual tools can help increase math comprehension, especially in young learners. As well, visual modeling, and a slight stray from Euclidian based proofs, have contributed to the growth of other forms of math (such as Hyperbolic and Spherical geometry). However, it has also been shown that visual components can have no impact on exam performance, and if a student is not experienced with specific forms of visual media, that media can actually become a hindrance to student comprehension. Overall, visual media has become a near-necessary aspect of math education, boosting student comprehension. However, this is given that the student has been allowed to understand and gain experience with the formatting of the visual media.
Use of 3D modeling techniques in 7th grade advanced math textbook (Burger et. al, 2015)
These findings are quite evident when observing geometry textbooks throughout different levels of education. For students who are younger or have little experience with geometric concepts, Euclidean proofs are not presented. Instead, there are findings, absent of proofs, followed by computation and many visual components to help students understand what exactly they are reading. If proofs are presented, they do not reflect the Euclidean style, but are instead simplified and backed by visual/ computational components. However, once you reach college level Geometry (where a student is expected to have experience with geometric concepts), textbooks still reflect pure Euclidean-styled proofs. In many ways, college level geometry textbooks reflect Euclid’s Elements, with minimal edits to diction, syntax, and classifications. Of course, there is variance in textbook content dependent on the publisher, different levels of government, and the standards of each university, so these results are generalized to an extent.
Standard proof from college level Geometry textbook (Venema, 2012)
While post-secondary geometry education has remained largely unchanged, it seems that the use of visual media (such as colors, diagrams, etc.) has flourished in middle/ high school geometry education. What does this say about Byrne? Well, there are many different possibilities for how these changes to education came to fruition. Perhaps it is due to Byrne, who argued that his work was revolutionary (and was later praised by education research). Possibly, changes in legislation surrounding public education enforced changes in curriculum. As well, it could be due to advancements in education research, which prompts change in academic textbooks. More probable, these changes are due to an amalgamation of different trends, both in math education and academia. While I was not able to uncover the direct influence of the implementation of visual media in geometry education, I believe a future path for this research is clear. To continue this research, one would have to specify the causes of changes to U.S. geometry education, specifically looking at how visual media worked its way into middle/ high school curriculum.
Sadly, it is improbable that Byrne is solely responsible for changes to geometry education. However, it is incredible to think that Byrne’s Elements, despite its failure, offered a new perspective into geometry education. The book reformulated the rigid, yet beloved Euclid and showed mathematicians that adaptation is not only possible, but beneficial in cases.
Figure 4: Colors used in 6th grade advanced math textbook (Burger et. al, 2015)
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Allyson Maldonado
The Madame Butterfly Trap has effects on stage and film for Asian/Asian-American women for decades. As a brief reminder the Madame Butterfly Trap is the notion that Asian women are not sufficient on their own and in fact are only used to exemplify the actions of their white romantic counterparts. As Asian women fight against these ideals and constantly strive for a larger place on the stage there are also lasting effects on Asian/Asian-American men in theater. In the case of Asian men on stage there is even a smaller space for them as they do not have any lasting strong idealistic/stereotypical roles that they are able to fill. A confined space for Asian women becomes even infinitely smaller for Asian men who do not even have a role like Kim in Miss Saigon. It is very seldom we see an opportunity for large number of Asian roles like those in Flower Drum Song, which first appeared on Broadway in 1958, and highlighted the cultural aspects of Asian immigrants by telling a comedic love story with a happy ending.
Detail of the original Broadway playbill for Flower Drum Song (1958)
After more in-depth research into the lyrics and story, I thoroughly believe that Flower Drum Song was able to triumph because it became a bridge between Asian immigrants and Americans in the fact that it was set in a familiar place (Chinatown) and had characters that were clear symbols of the differing opinions of that time amongst immigrants: assimilation vs. integration. Characters like Wang Ta, the main love interest, acted as a voice of resistance against tradition deciding to assimilate into American culture. He did this against the wishes of his immigrant father, Wang Chi-yang, who would rather keep all traditional views from China. Asian-Americans saw themselves in this show as they themselves wrestled between assimilation and integration, and as they balanced their numerous cultures and what they identified with. Flower Drum Song also did not succumb to the Madame Butterfly Trap, not only at the conclusion of the musical Mei Li, the main female love interest, was able to be with Wang Ta and be happy. Along with that, women were never used directly to mirror the desirable parts of the men in the show.
Harmful stereotypes have plagued minorities for as long as immigration has existed, it is no different in the stories written about them for the stage. Flower Drum Song used these stereotypes create a story that can be easily consumed not only by Americans but also Asian immigrants, who could see themselves on stage. For instance the song “Chop Suey” exemplifies how assimilation was used by Asian immigrants to earn a living. By creating a song so outwardly stereotypical, immigrants were able to profit off it, however at what cost?
In the original musical version of “Chop Suey,” Wang Chi-yang plays off exoticism from Americans by calling this dish an “Ancient Chinese Delicacy” which is funny given that Chop Suey was created by Americans and had no Chinese roots.
Welcome to Club Chop Suey, where East meets West seven swinging nights a week. Tonight Sammy has prepared, for your pleasure, Ancient Chinese Delicacy!
This song is later modified in the film version of Flower Drum Song to shed light on the vast differences of Americans and Asian immigrants. The song is turned into something that celebrates the integration of Asian ways of living with American ways and claiming the American-made Chinese dish “Chop-Suey” back to describe their feelings about living in America.
Decades before now we saw that the only representation that minorities saw were either negative or written by those who were European, American, and overall white. People felt as if their stories had become diluted, misconstrued, inaccurate and offensive. Across multiple platforms we continue to see these issues in the present day, spaces for creators and performers of color continue to be much smaller or limited in their scope. How can we use a niche, important space like musical theatre to amplify Asian voices? How will we tell more accurate Asian stories? Spaces like musical theatre provide a way to view the history of representation in cultural spaces over time.
Costume design for the 2002-2003 revival of Flower Drum Song, from the John David Ridge Collection.
The themes touched on in these shows help with the broader understanding of the American immigrant experience. The same type of thinking can and should be extended to larger spaces like the film industry, movies like Everything, Everywhere All at Once has become a hit not only for phenomenal writing but for unprecedented representation for minority voices. How can we continue this trend where we open the floor for those unheard? What can we do with our artistic skills to encourage a louder conversation about representation past protests and politics? We need a bigger space for Asian performers to ensure that we will be able to continue telling these amazing, rich Asian stories.
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Meir Schochet
The place of Jews in relation to definitions such as “the white person” has long been a topic of discussion. It became so for me in my senior Jewish history seminar in high school, when my professor presented us this very same question: are Jews white? It has also recently become a topic of much debate considering the comments of Whoopi Goldberg earlier this year. Throughout the course of my research in UF’s Price Library of Judaica, I have been pondering this question and trying to see what others say on the subject so I could broaden my perspective.
I have focused my research on two main areas up to this point. First, I have looked at the writings of antisemites and other bigoted people, and I have also looked at the works of academics and marginalized groups to get a wide perspective of how different groups view the Jewish experience. This post will deal specifically with the academic approach.
In White Jews: an Intersectional Approach, David Schraub presents an interesting idea, that is “there is the matter of particular persons who, but for their Jewishness, would be (in the American context) unambiguously White.” This is a fascinating idea that has really been the main one that I have been coming back to in the context of my research. This idea is as follows: in the Americanized definition of whiteness, most Jews have conditional passing whiteness which concatenates them into the class of white people. This allows for most Jews to experience a degree of whiteness, if they so please, simply by dressing themselves and presenting themselves as an average white American.
“German/Jew” by Karen Baldner (2003). The overlapping words “German” and “Jew” show different layers of identity using paper moulds of the artist’s head.
This point above has some interesting complexities to it, however. Specifically, “What counts as a “Jewish problem” or a “Jewish experience” or a “Jewish history” is often, in fact, particular and partial to the specific problems and experiences of the Jews described in the first paragraph: the White Jews” (Schraub). It is true essentially that the large history of the “Jewish experience” often focuses on those experiences of the stereotypical white-passing Jew and ignores the Jews of marginalized groups who do not possess the ability to be white-passing.
In relation to the anti-Semitica that I have been both privileged and pained to read, it seems that most Jew-hating peoples felt the way they did about Jews regardless of their skin color. This is to say, the experience of marginalized Jews has been disregarded largely due to the overwhelming amount of white-passing Jews compared to others, however, those hateful people who believe they can define the word “whiteness” would largely still exclude Jews from that word.
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Chrishann Walcott
Entering the Discovery Fellowship, I definitely knew that I was inclined towards exploring the diversity of religion and religious communities in the landscape of American culture in the 19th and 20th centuries. Having access to Special Collections gifted me with the opportunity to navigate the many avenues through which I can foster this interest.
I had first decided to trace the development of different religious communities in Florida, diving into a few sources from the P.K Yonge Library of Florida History, as well as the Rare Book Collection. It is here that I came across a multitude of books that documented the rise and decline of utopian societies in Florida, as well as biographical materials that discuss the people behind these unique communities. It is important to note that many of the earlier utopian communities of the mid-19th century were religious in nature, however, there were a variety of successful secular and social utopian communities that persisted throughout the 20th century.
Lyn Millner’s The Allure of Immortality (2015)introduced me to the story of the Koreshans, a utopian community established in Estero, Florida, by Dr. Cyrus Teed. Teed was an eccentric apocalyptic hailing from Utica, New York who believed himself to be a divine messenger sent to warn of the Second Coming of Christ, thus abandoning his pursuit of eclectic medicine. Teed renamed himself “Koresh”, the Hebrew transliteration of Cyrus (referring to Cyrus the Great). One of the most distinctive beliefs that characterized the Koreshan faith was the rejection of the Copernican model and instead brought a new principle that the Earth is a concave sphere, as explained in The Cellular Cosmogony.
One of the most interesting aspects of Teed’s religion was his integration of science and “alchemy” in consolidating a belief system that would reconcile the laws of the natural world with God’s will. The Koreshans illustrated their theories and tried to evangelize new members in various materials, from pamphlets to monthly-issued journals.
I continued to look through other materials that gave an in-depth description of the activities and social systems that became central to members of the Koreshan Unity. Notably, the Koreshans were a self-sufficient community that included recreational buildings, gardens, dining areas, and other complexes. Teed’s permanent settlement in Estero mirrored that of the Harmonists, a Pennsylvanian communal society founded by Johann Georg Rapp in 1804. Like Rapp, Teed had taught his followers about celibacy—even claiming celibacy allowed Koreshans to connect with divinity and thus achieve immortality.
The Koreshan Unity commissioned editions of its own works form a Chicago printing company in the early twentieth century.
Learning more about the Koreshans has allowed me to understand more of the contextual basis behind why utopian communities were created, and how they reflect the shifting socioeconomic dynamics and the desire to retain both cultural and religious identity in an increasingly urbanizing landscape. As of now, I am exploring other utopian communities that no longer exist, but have been etched into Floridian history, such as the Yamato colony and Moses Levy’s Jewish utopia.
A copy of a pamphlet with magazine advertisements, now part of the collection at Koreshan State Park.
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Natalie Triana
As I delve through the books, magazines, and drawings within the Rare Books Collection, I am actively exploring the way environmental values have transformed throughout time, as well as how these values are manifested within literature and language. Although many policy scholars debate the importance of attitudes in predicting environmental behavior (also known as the value-action gap), I believe there is a stark contrast between our conceptual values and embodied ones.
For instance, at a conceptual level, most of us care about the environment and hope to protect it –– however, protecting the environment may not trump the value of protecting friends and family, whom we perceive to have a far more direct relationship to us. In fact, protecting the environment may even fall second to saving our cell phone from damage. Evidently, values matter, and so do our perceptions of people and things. As we continue to perceive the environment as increasingly separate from us, we feel far less affected by its degradation, which is evident within the literature that sparked the U.S. conservation movement.
William Bartram’s Travels (1791) set the tone for a generation of writers and scientists that would follow.
In William Bartram’s Travels through North and South Carolina, East and West Florida, he describes his love for Florida’s wildlife as he accompanies his father on a botanical expedition. Although Bartram proclaims that “men and manners undoubtedly hold the first rank,” he follows this idea by insisting that “whatever may contribute to our existence is also of equal importance.” Bartram possesses an inherent love for nature because, as a botanist, he embodies environmental values on a daily basis and perceives the planet as inextricably linked with his identity. However, Bartram’s writings highlight how society views man as separate from nature, only caring about the planet when it serves as a commodity for human use.
Ralph Waldo Emerson illustrates similar themes within his book Miscellanies: Embracing Nature, Addresses, and Lectures. Emerson actually addresses the concept that nature should be more than just a commodity for people, rather an extension of our own human nature.
Emerson writes that “nature never became a toy to a wise spirit.”
He also explains how we have been educated with a “doctrine of Use.” Ironically, Emerson structures his essay through the uses for nature, such as commodity, beauty, language, and discipline.
Overall, it appears that both writers feel as though they are connected to nature, but insist on persuading their audience to agree by listing how the environment benefits humans. Perhaps, our values are derived from the things or people we need in our lives (family, friends, career, etc.). Since Emerson and Bartram both need nature to inspire their professional work, they embody environmental values on a daily basis. Others, however, must be reminded of nature’s contributions to the things they explicitly enjoy (food, recreation, etc.). As I continue this research, I would like to consider how we can embody environmental values in our daily lives, despite living in a highly industrialized world.
Advertisement for Emerson’s writings on the back cover of the Atlantic Monthly. Ticknor & Fields also published the Atlantic.
This post comes to us from Discovery Fellow Christian Harris
Around 300 B.C.E., a man named Euclid worked and taught at the Library of Alexandria. While almost nothing more is known about Euclid himself, his name spread far and wide as the author of a series of books which became known as “The Elements.” These books provided formal proofs which laid the ground for teaching modern mathematics. While we do not have the completed work of Euclid, the majority of the Elements still live through various historical prints. Most prints of Euclid take on very small changes, such as translations, adapting syntax, or an addition of commentary. Since 1482, it has become standard to print Euclid with illustrations of the proofs as well.
I was able to view copies of Euclid from the 1600s through the 1800s, many intended for school or college use. These editions, and many others, are relatively smaller with only small differences between. While some variations of Euclid have been more eclectic (more on that below), history has not favored those who stray too far from Euclid’s traditional format.
While we have been able to use Euclid throughout history to teach math, there are still practical contributions that have not yet been explored or realized. At the beginning of my research experience, I used various editions of Euclid’s Elements to learn more about one such famous problem, called the Perfect Cuboid Problem.
The Perfect Cuboid Problem simply asks if there exists a cuboid (a rectangular prism) such that each side can be divided into two “Pythagorean triple” triangles. A Pythagorean triple is a set of three integers such that the sum of the squares of two integers is equal to the third integer squared (e.g., 3, 4, and 5 are a Pythagorean triple because 32+42=52).
Once you understand what the question asks, it feels almost intuitive that it is impossible for such a cuboid to exist.
However, while no has ever found an example of a “perfect cuboid,” no one has been able to prove it is impossible either. In my research so far, I observed various proofs of the Pythagorean Theorem, attempting to use such information to gain any insight into the Perfect Cuboid Problem.
The title page of Oliver Byrne’s “First Six Books of the Elements of Euclid”
While maneuvering through different variations of the Elements, I spent a lot of time with one of the most unconventional editions ever produced: Oliver Byrne’s “The First Six Books of the Elements of Euclid: In which Coloured Diagrams and Symbols are Used Instead of Letters for the Greater Ease of Learners,” (1847). This edition does exactly as the title claims, rewriting the first six books of the Elements in a completely different format, using color and diagrams instead of words to convey its proofs.
The Pythagorean Theorem illustrated in Oliver Byrne’s Elements (1847)
While this book was not well received at its time of release, it has received a lot of contemporary praise for its progressive nature and efforts to improve comprehension. As I have continued to work with this book, my research has shifted towards its failure at the time of its release, and the steady influence it had on future math education. As contemporary research promotes the use of diagrams and visuals in geometry education, it seems that Byrne had a level of impact on modern education. I wish to now explore what level of influence, if any, that Byrne had on math literature and education, and when this influence began to show.
This post comes from Discovery Fellow Allyson Maldonado
When I began researching for my topic of the evolution of musical theater I found that I was becoming increasingly interested in Asian representations from the 20th century. However, the more I looked for Asian characters and stories, the more I found similar themes sticking out to me, if I was able to find any representation at all.
The theme I found coming up frequently in my research is something I’ve called “The Madame Butterfly Trap:” the trope of an Asian woman love interest who we follow and see as she is never allowed to find happiness with another. This comes from the original European story, written in two versions by American and French authors and then made into an opera by an Italian, of Madame Butterfly (1898) where a Japanese woman marries an American man and suffers devastating consequences.
In post-WWII theater, musicals like South Pacific and Miss Saigon, the Asian woman’s love interest is almost always a military American officer. The Americans are seen as someone who can “save” the innocent, vulnerable, fragile woman.
This stereotype has plagued Asian women for decades in the media, and it seems to keep working. An Asian woman is easily watered down to an example of exoticism: a way for the male lead to overcome his own prejudices, and as someone who disappears from the story entirely.
You’ve got to be taught to be afraid of people whose eyes are oddly made” a lyric from the song “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught” featured in the musical South Pacific.
This line exemplifies the ideas that can be observed in musicals centered around Asian stories of all decades. Madame Butterfly, Miss Saigon, and South Pacific all are tragedies centered around innocent Asian love interests and the hesitance and prejudice of their Caucasian counterparts.
Why is it that Asian representation in musicals and plays is so heavily associated with tragedy? There are few musicals out there that have a lighthearted feel including Asian stories like Flower Drum Song that tells of a wedding in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Was that change alone enough to make Flower Drum Song, a romantic comedy, seen as a triumph in the Asian community when it came to stage?
In contemporary media, we see Asian women portrayed on all extremes: either as naive and fragile or as self-assured, confident, edgy, (and in most cases sword-wielding) fighters. In musicals alone, we see that much work is to be done to allow for steps to be taken in the right direction, to have that Asian representation in the arts like we deserve.
The constant fight to create Asian representation that fits between these two extremes and be authentic has been a hot topic in the community for years, and an evolving concept in theater and film. As I continue to keep looking forward in the collections, I hope to find out more about the formulas of musicals and start to find themes that continuously make blockbuster musicals and how Asian representation fits into that puzzle, if at all.
