Rural & Regional, Readings & Research: Notes Toward a New Seminar

Beginning notes toward the commencement of a new seminar in History at North Dakota State University: rural & regional, readings and research. See a prospectus here. Commencing this January.

Scribbling in the Moleskine, which will be my companion in seminar sessions, and in which germinate the ideas that will animate it. Here are some notes on the initial readings and general posture–perhaps even the idea–of the seminar.

The paragraph above gives me excessive credit. I will lay out the program, but the seminarians will animate it.

Notes in the Moleskin

Ballad Hunting

Here in Waco for a family Christmas, having flown in on Monday. Marking papers all the way; grades submitted for the 10AM deadline yesterday. So Merry Christmas!

In odd (early AM) moments here, I’ve done some ballad hunting, searching for forgotten prairie ballads in newspapers.com using search phrases according to the older tunes appropriated by local balladeers. Ballad authors seldom composed melodies; when they needed one, they appropriated it–from a Civil War song, from a popular song, or from a Protestant hymn, commonly. A newspaper would publish contributed ballads with a notation something like, Air: Beulah Land or Air: Marching Through Georgia.

Using the search phrase Air: Greenland’s Icy Mountain, I came up with a real gem: “The Housewife’s Burden,” by Thomas Chalmers McConnell, as published in the Holton Tribune, 24 March 1988. McConnell, who was proud of his Scots-Irish lineage, was a notable character: a piano dealer, a Republican songster (composing campaign songs and organizing singing ensembles for party meetings), a locally notorious poet, a newspaper editor (Holton Tribune), and Jackson County clerk. He wrote a song from a woman’s point of view, a comic but pointed ballad about a woman struggling through daily life with a husband who was idle, a drunkard, and a politician to boot. This newfound ballad is destined for treatment in the Willow Creek Folk School and in a Plains Folk Kansas column.

Take up the housewife's burden
Tis morn, go milk the cow

Then, using the search phrase Air: Little Old Log Cobin, I unearthed two more forgotten ballads.

First, “The Man Between the Handles on the Plow,” a dandy Populist ballad by one W. W. Kirby, published in the Mound City Republic, 24 August 1893. Both author and ballad are previously unfamiliar to me. I need to research this guy Kirby. If he wrote one ballad, he probably wrote others.

For the strength of every nation is the toiler of the soil
And the man with honest sweat upon his brow

And after that, “An Old Time Song,” an early ballad of nostalgia about the trail ranch and whiskey outpot of Reynolds, a.k.a. Rath City, in the Texas Panhandle. The author listed is “A.H.,” location Colorado. So, someone formerly asociated with tbe buffalo hunting outpost of Reynolds who is now relocated to Colorado, initials A.H.

I never more shall see the men who daily passed my door
That much derided member of the Grange
And the brave and rugged hunter who roamed the prairies e'er
As he chased the noble Bison on the Range

My intermittent efforts in songcatching confirm the search strategy I first tried some months ago, using the song titles of tunes appropriated by prairie balladeers. This should produce many more ballads to come. The gifts keep on giving.

Landmark Work on the Homestead Act

My role as a senior historian of the Great Plains experience is something I take seriously. Perhaps the most important facet of that role is to point to the good work of others and help bring it into both scholarly currency and public memory. Thus my recent writing about the reinterpretation–a historical salvage operation–done on the Homestead Act by Richard Edwards’s team at the University of Nebraska. This Goodreads review points to what I have written about Homesteading the Plains and Great Plains Homesteaders. I encourage my fellow #PrairieScholars to take note of the new work on homesteading and my friends across the plains to read it.

TFA

An essay on teaching History in our times, germinating handwritten in the pages of a Moleskine journal

Early in May we flew to Oklahoma via DFW for the wedding of Grandson No. 1, and I occupied myself on the flight down pencil-scribbling some ideas I had been carrying around for a while. Awakening early the next morning in Purcell, Oklahoma, I poured come coffee and picked up where I had left off, until I had filled eight pages. Then we were off to be occupied with family events.

I realized before quitting, though, that an essay was germinating in my old-man hand on paper, which I gave a title, “Teaching for America in the Twenty-First Century.” At age 72 I am in the middle of a rehab of my teaching program aimed at staying current and, more important, responding to changing times and changing students. This is because, well, things are changing, and I plan to be around for quite some time.

What I have written so far is a lament, possibly even a jeremiad, about how we got into the cultural, political, and intellectual mess we are in. So it’s all gloom and doom so far, but it will not be so as I pick up the thread and carry it on this summer. I will get around to what I’m going to do, I think, which others may wish to emulate, or not. I do hope others may be moved to think, as I have been.

I post here those eight handwritten pages, direct from my journal.

Activity

There is this annual ritual in the academy known as faculty activity reports. An FAR is a personal activity report covering the traditional spheres of teaching, research, and service along with anything else you are assigned to do. Sometimes known as “the brag sheet.” Mostly pretty dull stuff, things to be listed and counted. So, being a storyteller, I have an inclination to incorporate bits of contextual narrative, things I don’t expect anyone ever to read, but I set down as historical record. Hey, you asked for a report! Here are a couple extracts from mine.

Notes on current directions in teaching. The process of flipping courses (converting in-class-lecture courses to online lecture, with classroom transactions devoted to readings, review, exercises, and discussion) is largely completed. This now has led to a further restructuring involving the physical orientation of classroom proceedings as the basis of workshop-style proceedings suited to the common learning and work styles of a GenZ clientele. Parcel to this restructuring is the incorporation of pencil-and-paper writing and testing, in-class, to combat the erosion of integrity by generative artificial intelligence; or, to put it more positively, to tap the research-proven enhancements to learning and retention stimulated by handwriting. Finally, post-COVID, I am reinstituting service learning requirements that engage the talents and energy of students in public-service work off-campus.

Note as to research activity: with the restoration of full physical health for the first time in five years, I am experiencing a significant improvement in productivity–and not only in quantity. Realizing this potential, I have commenced feeding it through a more self-conscious allocation of prime time to writing and through a reorganization of the research-and-writing nexus. Key to this is the handwritten journal as the locus for note-taking, reflection, and pre-writing. All this gives me optimism about sustaining my scholarly output (footnotes and all) as well as my (equally serious) venture into literary nonfiction.

And then I put in the lists, too.

Oh, and prompts from WordPress notwithstanding, nothing in this blog ever has been or will be generated by artificial intelligence. It’s the real thing or nothing.

Something Wrong with This Picture

My daily thanksgiving: the opportunity to live a life of letters and learning. To read and write, teach and learn. The latter part, teaching and learning, obviously requires an institutional setting. Reading and writing, these may be more solitary activities, but in the broader consideration, they also require an institutional setting, one that values scholarship and letters.

The phrase, “institutional setting,” is inadequate. These things require, in fact, a learning community. When the learning community degenerates, then the whole package comes apart. And coming apart is what is happening with university learning communities today.

There are recent developments that have brought the situation to a head. Most obviously, COVID has ravaged learning communities. Some degree of shut-down was necessary. We like to think we patched the gap with online learning and other expedients, and to an extent we did. We maintained transactional functionality. Classes continued, degrees were conferred, life of a sort went on. Transactional life. COVID accomplished in months what the neoliberal establishment had been attempting to do for a half-century: reduce our learning communities to transactional entities.

In the larger context and the longer view, however, COVID was an accelerator and a crystallizer; it was not the fundamental problem. Good learning communities in a good country would have come through much better. We entered the COVID crisis, however, with our learning communities in a weakened state brought about by a larger malaise affecting the country at large. That malaise was corrosive neoliberalism–the intellectual and popular rejection of the ideal or even the possibility of the public good, the embrace of individualistic, atavistic, self-absorbed libertarianism.

People with institutional and personal memory will tell you that sometime in th 1980s or so, public authorities adopted a new model for management of higher education. Various shuffles of the deck obscured what was happening, but the key change was in the nature of expectations of university presidents and other high officers. Public authorities installed CEOs in presidential offices. This was not in the interest of managerial expertise or institutional efficiency or anything like that. It was for the sake of malleability. You see, if you had a scholar for a president, and a board told him to do something he thought was bad for the university, he was likely to say, No, I can’t do that, it’s bad for the university. If the board were adamant, and the matter was serious enough, then he might just say, OK then, fire me. And because that president was standing up for learning and students and the university, he had legions; he had a power base. What public authorities wanted, and what they installed, was a president who would do bad things, or maybe just stupid things, without question. Because he was not a scholar, he was an education CEO, and thus dependent on the pleasure of the board to sustain his creature comforts. Thus was accomplished a neoliberal capture of educational management. It took place, by the way, during the heyday of corporate raiding, and thus it also brought the adolescent delusion of creative destruction to the academy. This continues. (Yes, I’m thinking of Huron Consulting, but not only it.)

All this was enough to establish a declensionist imperative in the academy, as it did in the country at large. It’s why we can’t have nice things. There is another, even more sinister aspect to the story. It’s kind of like Alexis de Tocqueville’s warning about tyranny. Yes, it would be a bad thing if authorities deployed democratic authority to suppress liberty of action and thought. The dystopia more to be feared was if it were to become unnecessary for authorities to suppress liberty, because a conformist people had forgotten how to be free.

Now back to the academy: destructive neoliberal management might do great mischief, but the academic dystopia more to be feared was one where the rank and file, the faculty, absorbed and exhibited the individualistic, atavistic, and self-absorbed values (or lack thereof) of neoliberalism. As it turned out, this situation was fairly easy to accomplish. Simply establish systems of recognition and recompense that downgrade scholarship, teaching, and learning and reward managerial malleability. (What are associate deanships designed for, anyway?)

Faculty will follow the money, right? Many of them, anyway, enough to degrade the learning community.

Now throw COVID into the mix, when we tell people to go home and just maintain the transactional skeleton. It turns out this can be pretty comfortable. It turns out the learning community already was degraded sufficiently that given the opportunity to come back and bring the university back to life, quite a few people will say, No, thanks, I’m fine where I am.

Earlier this week I wrote this post to social media: “While we may need to bolster our portfolio in distance education (taking care to avoid corruption and maintain the brand), we need to double down on solid residential instruction. Students are coming back to college (propaganda to the contrary), and they deserve the best. Attend to the curriculum, take teaching seriously, engage. Faculty still holed up at home–get your butts back on campus. Sure, I keep a good home office, because I work crazy hours and do serious writing, but I tell you, the students are back, and we need to be fully back, too. Repopulate the university, restore the vitality. Take in a concert, a lecture, a Bison game. Hang out in the library and the union. Present and accounted for.”

The next day I got up about 5am as usual and did the morning routine at home, which includes correspondence and writing. Mid-morning I ran by my research office (external to main campus), then proceeded to my campus office. Got squared away for afternoon class, met Dr. Kelley for lunch at the Sons of Norway. She dropped me off after that to meet my methods class, which is a full-contact scrimmage. The middle of the afternoon I spent in my teaching office, keeping what we call “office hours” for consultations. I met with a few students to sort out course matters and project work. I encountered a total of two other faculty in the department during the afternoon.

Come 3:30 I met up with Dr. Kelley again to attend a two-hour lecture, “The Crisis in the Greater Levant: Israel versus Hamas in Context,” presented by Dr. Roby Barrett. The event was sponsored by our Northern Plains Ethics Institute. The subject was way outside my area of expertise. I wanted to attend, however, because Roby is a PhD in History with prodigious experience in foreign service and intelligence. I just wanted to be informed. I agreed with 85% of what was said. We don’t have to agree on everything, because this is a university, but it is good to come together and learn. Evidently, hardly any of our faculty or students felt the same about the opportunity.

I ran home to feed my dog and then back to the SHAC for the Bison women’s basketball game with the Jackrabbits. We fell short at the end of a close contest, but the level of competition was high, the crowd was good (not many students, though), and I got some Dippin’ Dots. It was real college basketball. I was sitting with congenial strangers, because my usual companion was otherwise occupied. I offered my extra ticket to anyone in the department who wanted it, but no one was interested in seeing a game matching the top two women’s teams in the conference. Meanwhile, Dr. Kelley was attending a play being directed by one of her publishing students, which evidently was splendid (although the audience numbered only about thirty); she can tell you about it. We enjoyed recounting to one another our satisfaction with our respective events.

Except we thought, there’s something wrong with this picture.

Traveling with the Ladies

We’ve been on the road since just before Christmas, traveling with the Ladies, Angie and Willa, and seeing our family strung across Texas, Oklahoma, and now Kansas, where we have been the past few days. Here in Barton County, besides spending welcome time with the resident fam, we have been joined by grandson Drew and his fiance, Jess. Such a pleasure getting to know her. Drew and I have been doing some hunting. The quail and pheasant were surprisingly scarce, but we have topped up the winter store of venison for sure. Throughout the expedition I have been using odd time, such as early morning, to keep somewhat current with teaching and writing. Dr. K, as usual, has been more diligent. This is my transition to several observations from the road.

First, Dr. K is so dedicated and hard-working, she puts me to shame. Holed up at the Angus Inn, attended by our admiring canines, she sees to the admin work of NDSU Press and spreads out manuscripts for editing. If you haven’t seen it, here’s a note about her leadership of the Midwest Indepent Publishers Association. She also finds time for reading, both for professional application and for personal pleasure. 2023 has not been an easy year for her. I doubt she’ll ever have one. But I do hope all will join me in saluting her work with NDSU Press and her leadership of regional letters. May 2024 be a year of success and satisfaction.

Second, Angie the History Dog and Willa the Book Beagle are amazing travelers. They give us no grief on the road, they make themselves at home where we are, and they enjoy themselves–particularly Angie, who loves to explore and socialize. Willa has struggled with a respiratory affection that had us out at 2am one morning for emergency vet care in Fort Worth. She’s stable again, not quite well, but well enough to enjoy hanging out with Mom. Both of the Ladies regard my F150 as their mobile headquarters and doze the miles away.

Third, there’s no place like home. I think it’s a good sign that we love to travel, and we love to go home. Today is taken up with packing, travel preparations (such as processing and stowing quite a bit of venison), some bits of work, and leave-taking. Tomorrow we strike north for home. Once there, it will be a full-court press to be ready for the spring term.

So now I better get some coffee and pitch in. To all our family who have made our travels joyful: may the new year repay you with every blessing. Too all our friends and associates in life and work: we wish you joy and success and peace. Thank you.