PARTICIPANT-OBSERVER OF HISTORY: JOHN HOPE FRANKLIN—SCHOLAR, MENTOR, AND PROMOTER OF AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMEN'S HISTORY

Remembering Alton Parker Hornsby, Jr., 1940–2017

Reviewed by: All That She Carried: The Journey of Ashley's Sack and a Black Family Keepsake by Tiya Miles, and: On Juneteenth by Annette Gordon-Reed Catherine Clinton All That She Carried: The Journey of Ashley's Sack and a Black Family Keepsake. Tiya Miles. New York: Random House, 2021. ISBN: 978-1-9848-5499-5, 416 pp., cloth, $28.00 On Juneteenth. Annette Gordon-Reed. New York: W. W. Norton, 2021. ISBN: 978-1-63149-883-1, 152 pp., cloth, $15.95. A few years ago I began labeling my graduate course "Civil War and Emancipation," in recognition of the turn within the academy, with scholarship rippling outward into a more diverse audience and perhaps trickling down into textbooks and curriculum. A slow, deliberate change from the days of the Civil War centennial—as the 1960s was an era of racialized conflagrations, and a national commemoration fraught with competing, explosive agendas. By the Civil War sesquicentennial in 2011–15, the destruction of slavery was acknowledged as a major war aim of the federal government. During the past half century, historians of nineteenthcentury America escalated the debates over war's cause and effect to include the significance of Emancipation and the struggles during and after Reconstruction by former slaves and Black Americans seeking rights and citizenship. This new era has yielded a bounty of important, prizewinning work. A large contingent of Civil War scholars are engaged in including Black perspectives and African American resources to reshape the era. During this same transformative turn, women have come to the forefront, both as scholars of the slave experience and as a dynamic topic within Black history: African American women in slavery and freedom. When I dipped my toe into the Civil War field during the 1980s after being immersed in African American history during the '60s and women's history during the '70s, little did I imagine the creative and interventionist ways these fields might meet to create an era of intersectionalism. However, there were clearly visionary scholars at work, paving the way. These two new books by Tiya Miles and Annette Gordon-Reed herald an era of metanarrative, whereby prizewinning authors challenge the fallacy of objectivism. Their bracing, interrogative [End Page 217] accounts allow readers to experience the full powers of their intellects and narrative gifts. Surely the bevy of prizes won in 2021 by Thavolia Glymph's The Women's Fight: The Civil War's Battles for Home, Freedom, and Nation (from the American Historical Association, the Organization of American Historians, the Society of Civil War Historians, and the Southern Association for Women Historians, among others) signals the way Civil War studies is seeking important new terrain to bring this burgeoning field into alignment with the twenty-first century. Tiya Miles's new volume, All That She Carried: The Journey of Ashley's Sack and a Black Family Keepsake, follows a productive parade of impressive books, including a novel (The Cherokee Rose). Miles's historical talents were evident from her first monograph, Ties That Bound (winning the Frederick Jackson Turner Prize in 2006) to her 2017 Dawn of Detroit (awarded the Frederick Douglass Prize), receiving a MacArthur Fellowship (2011) along the way. Her scholarship has always been praised as meticulous, and she earns accolades for her prose style, which is characterized as both "luminous" and "accessible." In the story of Ashley's sack, we are given layered lessons about the historian's craft. How does one approach an object? What are the objectives for the story to be told? What is the value of speculation? How does the empowerment of context supply content when no particulars are evident, when no evidence is forthcoming? Miles patiently pieces together her story as brilliantly and creatively as the recovered sack deposited at Middleton plantation. It is not just an object for a repository, but the beginning of a journey for Miles—who takes the family history of the ancestor Rose, who lovingly prepared this cotton bag for her nine-year-old daughter Ashley's sale and departure. Ripped away from her home, from her family—with a tattered dress, three handfuls of nuts, a lock of her mother's hair, and the...

Twenty years ago, LAWCHA started to come together. The field of labor history had been operating for decades without a professional organization in part because of the many state and regional labor history associations already active. But the times demanded something more. The AFL-CIO had made a left turn, and many scholars were looking for ways to bring activism and labor history together. A meeting was called for the October 1998 North American Labor History Conference in Detroit, which approved a constitution and bylaws that had been drafted by Roger Horowitz and Cecilia Bucki. An organizing committee set to work, and a year later LAWCHA held its first official conference and elected officers led by President Jacquelyn Hall and Vice President Joe Trotter.I have a couple of reasons for flagging this approaching anniversary. First, LAWCHA now has an official archive. The Reuther Library in Detroit is processing the first donation of records, covering our early years. I hope those who have saved correspondence and other relevant materials will contact Tom Klug about adding to the collection. Second, the twentieth anniversary is a good time to take stock and think about what has been accomplished and where we want to go next. Our website features a brief history of LAWCHA by Shel Stromquist and Bucki. I am borrowing from it.The past twenty years have been complicated both for labor movements and for academia, the two institutional complexes we represent; but LAWCHA has more than proved the wisdom behind its foundation. The founding mothers and fathers made key commitments that made the organization different in tone and reach from other historical societies. They defined the field broadly, understanding that labor and working-class history encompasses so much more than the history of unions. They adopted a strategy of collaborating with regional labor history organizations and supporting their conferences. And they made special efforts to support graduate students and young scholars, understanding that the future unfolds with them.Other decisions strengthened the organization. In 2004 this journal was founded by Leon Fink and others, and Labor quickly established a reputation for publishing top-quality articles and field-defining forums. In 2008 we began awarding the Herbert Gutman dissertation prize, and Cornell ILR School asked LAWCHA to cosponsor the Phillip Taft book award. After David Montgomery’s death in 2011, LAWCHA members raised the endowment funds for a second labor history book prize in his name that is cosponsored with the Organization of American Historians (OAH). Meanwhile, our website had become a scholarly and organizing resource featuring Rosemary Feuer’s Labor History Links bibliography and resources for teaching labor history in the schools. In 2012 Ryan Poe and Feuer began remaking our communication systems, adding the dynamic blog LaborOnline and a Facebook page and expanding listserv capacities.LAWCHA’s reach extends far beyond its membership, thanks to the culture of activism that has been our secret sauce since the beginning. Hundreds of labor historians make their voices heard both through scholarship and through public service. We are active in the OAH, the American Historical Association, the Urban History Association, Western and Southern History Associations, African American Intellectual History Society, and other professional organizations. We are active online, producing public labor history resources that are used by millions. We are active in our communities, writing op-eds and working on social justice initiatives. And we are active on our campuses, fighting to preserve workplace rights, academic freedom, and a model of liberal education that is a cornerstone of democratic societies.The dual scholar-activist model was sharply apparent this year when LAWCHA members collected a basketful of book and distinguished scholar prizes at OAH in addition to LAWCHA’s own awards. The list of prizes shows how their work has won the respect of scholars in multiple fields of history and rises to the very pinnacle of professional accomplishment. Congratulations to Eileen Boris, Linda Gordon, LaShawn Harris, Max Krochmal, Nelson Lichtenstein, Ryan Patrick Murphy, Heather Thompson, and Katherine Turk.LAWCHA has much to celebrate as the twentieth anniversary approaches and much to do. New initiatives by the Contingent Faculty Committee and the ad hoc committee working with independent scholars will be important. As will the Global Affairs Initiative and our evolving relationship with the International Association of Labour History Institutions. I write this in August, six months before you are reading it, so I have no idea what new challenges the Age of Trump will bring. But I do know that we will be busy doing what LAWCHA was designed to do: bringing past and present, scholarship and activism together, understanding that the struggles of working people in the past and around the world can be a guide and inspiration as we meet the challenges of the present.

BOTH THE Organization of American Historians (OAH) and The American Historical Association (AHA) have engaged in the debate about reform and improvement of pre-collegiate history education which has been a hot political issue at least since the 1983 publication of A Nation at Risk. National and state history education standards and the move to improve the professional development of history teachers through various initiatives are outgrowths of this move toward reform. Along with an ongoing forum exploring opinions about history education, preparation of history teachers, and public uses of history, both the OAH and the AHA are also supporting initiatives that promote the mission of K-16 linkage and outreach to pre-collegiate institutions and educators. Although contention has arisen about what and whose history we teach, many historians, museum curators, and historical society personnel have embraced these efforts, and many have entered into partnerships with local school districts to develop such projects. While many historians have supported the call for more collaboration between K-12 and university educators, fewer have expounded upon the two-way gains

In summer of 1967 an investigation of instruction offered in American colleges and universities in various areas of historical scholarship was commenced. By such instruction was meant courses in fields variously entitled Philosophy of History, Theory of History, Historiography, History of Historical Scholarship, Historical Methodology and Research, and other similar or related designations. For purposes of convenience this report will refer to the theory of or to theoretical work or courses in history; unless otherwise stated, these terms apply to full sweep of courses ranging from The Philosophy of History to Methods of Historical Research, in either departments of history or departments of philosophy. The investigation was begun in conviction that it would aid historians and others interested in historical scholarship to gain some notion, however sketchy and superficial, of what students of history are being taught today of concerns of their own discipline, and thus help to define degree and form of self-consciousness that American historical profession has attained today. This investigation, then, should complement answers suggested by studies of presidential addresses of such bodies as American Historical Association or Organization of American Historians, and by books, monographs, and essays of individual scholars concerned with status of history in America today. Of course, unlike writings of individual scholars, this report cannot propose, defend, or attack particular methods, theories, or philosophies of history, but must speak of types of courses, regardless of their specific or philosophical content, and must speak of them in quantitative rather than qualitative terms. By itself alone, this report cannot speak directly and fully to major question that prompted it. It can but offer information necessary to an eventual answer. As investigation of courses in history stands now, it is without benefit of comparative data from previous surveys, in United States or elsewhere. It cannot, therefore, identify changes and trends, but must confine itself to an account of present scene. Nevertheless, it is obvious that great changes have occurred in American higher education during second third of twentieth century, that number of students has increased dramatically, and that these facts and others have led to spirited debates and to experiments in curricular reform. What implications have these changes held for teaching

Signposts:Cyrus Adler’s Vision of American Jewish Historical Writing Jeffrey S. Gurock (bio) If Cyrus Adler (1863–1940) came back to life today, he would be gratified with the activities of the American Jewish Historical Society [AJHS] as it commemorates its 125th anniversary in 2017. For in its scope and emphases, the society is fulfilling the vision that he had for the professionalization of a field that only in the last few decades has come fully into its own. More than 100 years ago, this first major Jewish scholar to associate himself with the society envisioned a day when trained and productive professional academics, schooled in a variety of disciplines, would examine the American Jewish experience rigorously even as he hoped for this moment in time when their work would be adjudged as valuable contributions to the wider worlds of Jewish and American scholarship. In examining the AJHS’s contemporary agenda, he would be pleased that its leadership is deeply committed to “foster[ing] awareness and appreciation of the American Jewish heritage and to serve as a national resource for research.” And he would have heartily agreed that while its public programming is well known to those who attend events at the Center for Jewish History—the home of the AJHS since 2000—the core of the society’s mission lies in the collection of historical documents and the publication of scholarly works in the field. He would be proud that its journal, American Jewish History, now publishing its 101th volume, has remained the most significant and enduring aspect of the society’s work. He would have noted with pleasure that this most important academic periodical in its field, is overseen by the society’s Academic Council, composed of 123 members who teach and write about all aspects of American Jewish studies, most with posts at universities in the US and abroad. He would be absolutely delighted that it is a field that now comprehends not only history, but sociology, anthropology, economics, literary studies, and other cognate disciplines, and that many of the Council colleagues occupy chairs in these variegated disciplines at distinguished universities. And he would have been excited that, every two years, these scholars gather at a scholars conference where a fellow academician who does not work specifically in American Jewish studies is featured in a plenary session that typically relates or compares the [End Page 489] Council members’ academic work to cutting edge studies in American and modern Jewish history. It would make abundant sense to Adler that examinations of other ethnic or racial groups, or considerations of gender relationships, are high on the agendas of these invited academicians. He, likewise, would be happy to be informed that, on occasion, Academic Council affiliates return the favor when they present at the meetings of the American Historical Association (AHA), the Organization of American Historians (OAHS), or the Association for Jewish Studies (AJS). In other words, he would be most appreciative to find–upon his return visit–at this landmark moment of a century and a quarter of work, that the society is solidly positioned within the world of academe.1 To be sure, upon reviewing the history of the society since his passing in 1940, Adler would acknowledge that the road to such a contemporary respected status had been long and hard; American Jewish historical writing had to overcome its amateurish beginnings and surmount enduring prejudices among academics about the value of early professional work. But he could still stake the claim that the dream of professionalization began with him when he spoke boldly of what American Jewish historiography could become during his two addresses to the society as its president, the first in 1902, the second in 1909. Admittedly, Adler’s prime intellectual concern was not the serious study of this country’s Jews. He was an Orientalist by training and had earned his doctorate at Johns Hopkins University in Semitics. He was the first scholar educated in the United States to earn a Ph.D. in that discipline. But Adler had a distinct and prescient vision of what American Jewish Studies might someday become.2 Actually, Adler had played an important role in launching...

Challenging Dissemblance in Pauli Murray Historiography, Sketching a History of the Trans New Negro

Suburban Erasure: How the Suburbs Ended the Civil Rights Movement in New Jersey

From mid-19th century and even earlier, African Americans have demanded first class citizenship, the full works ... with no reservations ... and nothing less, as black labor leader A. Philip Randolph asserted in 1942. (1) But what exactly is What rights are conferred by citizenship? What obligations are exacted by citizenship? At most basic level, citizenship defines a person's relation State. When Dred Scott sought assert his rights as a citizen in 1857, Supreme Court Justice Roger B. Taney posed question: Can a Negro, whose ancestors were imported into this country, and sold as slaves, become a member of political community formed and brought into existence by Constitution of United States, and as such become entitled all rights, and privileges, and immunities, guaranteed by that instrument citizen? Among those privileges, Taney continued, was privilege of suing in a court. In his opinion, African Americans, both free and enslaved, were not citizens. (2) The Civil Rights Act of 1866, 14th Amendment, ratified in 1868, and 15th Amendment, ratified in 1870, recognized African Americans as citizens, and granted African Americans rights--that is, rights sue in court and participate in civil affairs on equal terms. Civil rights in 19th century were defined in federal Civil Rights Act of 1866 as right to make and enforce contracts, sue, be parties, and give evidence, inherit, purchase, lease, sell, hold and convey real and personal property, and full and equal benefit of all laws and proceedings for security of person and property. (3) These civil rights are central public realm and for economic transactions, but contract and due process rights do not protect privacy, nor do they envision social equality or personal freedom in sexual matters. Without right sexual privacy and self-determination, African Americans remained second-class citizens even as black men exercised vote, bought land, and established families. In aftermath of Reconstruction, loss of civil and political rights came after a campaign of terror that used rape and lynching as its weapons. As essays in this Special Issue of The Journal of African American History show, continuing vulnerability of African Americans accusations of sexual crimes or improprieties compromised their citizenship rights. The five historians whose essays appear in this Special Issue challenge traditional constructions of citizenship through their explorations of gender and sexuality in African American history. Destabilizing rigid categories of race that were one result of interracial sexual relations is not a new project as we are reminded in Ann S. Holder's important essay, What's Sex Got Do With It? Race, Power, Citizenship and 'Intermediate Identities,' in Post-Emancipation United States. Commentators, including Frederick Douglass, Ida B. Wells, Anna Julia Cooper, T. Thomas Fortune, and Richmond, Virginia, editor John Mitchell challenged slavery and segregation by reminding their readers that certainty had be forged from a landscape of indeterminancy. Deploying community gossip and local traditions about sexual liaisons of white politicians, Mitchell's Planet undermined their blustering rhetoric of racial purity. In a democracy, citizenship and public service could only be non-racial, Mitchell argued, because all people contributed. Holder also provides a succinct and important chronology that traces ideological and legislative evolution of prohibitions on interracial sex from colonial times 20th century. Lynn Hudson points out in Entertaining Citizenship: Masculinity and Minstrelsy in Post-Emancipation San Francisco, even asking for a glass of whiskey in a saloon on San Francisco's Barbary Coast was an assertion of black manhood and citizenship. In public spaces, arenas which have not traditionally been understood as political, in streets, at theater, and at public entertainments, African American men negotiated citizenship against derogatory images of minstrelsy. …

Previous article No AccessRecent Books on African American Educational History William H. Watkins, The White Architects of Black Education: Ideology and Power in America, 1865-1954 William H. Watkins, James H. Lewis, and Victoria Chou, eds., Race and Education: The Roles of History and Society in Educating African American Students Karen A. Johnson, Uplifting the Women and the Race: The Educational Philosophies and Social Activism of Anna Julia Cooper and Nannie Helen Burroughs Anna Victoria Wilson and William E. Seagall, Oh, Do I Remember! Experiences of Teachers during the Desegregation of Austin's Schools, 1964-1971 Vivian Gunn Morris and Curtis L. Morris, The Price They Paid: Desegregation in an African American Community Adam Fairclough, Teaching Equality: Black Schools in the Age of Jim Crow Henry N. Drewry and Humphrey Doermann, Stand and Prosper: Private Black Colleges and Their Students Robert A. Pratt, We Shall Not Be Moved: The Desegregation of the University of Georgia Maurice C. Daniels, Horace T. Ward: Desegregation of the University of Georgia, Civil Rights Advocacy, and JurisprudenceV. P. FranklinV. P. Franklin Search for more articles by this author PDFPDF PLUS Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail SectionsMoreDetailsFiguresReferencesCited by The Journal of African American History Volume 87, Number 4Fall 2002New Perspectives on African American Educational History A journal of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History Article DOIhttps://doi.org/10.2307/1562476 Views: 26Total views on this site Citations: 1Citations are reported from Crossref PDF download Crossref reports the following articles citing this article: John A. Kirk THE NAACP CAMPAIGN FOR TEACHERS' SALARY EQUALIZATION: AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMEN EDUCATORS AND THE EARLY CIVIL RIGHTS STRUGGLE, The Journal of African American History 94, no.44 (Nov 2017): 529–552.https://doi.org/10.1086/JAAHv94n4p529

Reviewed by: The African American Experience during World War II Kevin Allen Leonard (bio) The African American Experience during World War II. By Neil A. Wynn. (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2010. Pp. xix, 163. $34.95) Since the publication of Neil A. Wynn's path-breaking study, The Afro-American and the Second World War in 1973, dozens of other historians have examined the impact of the war on African Americans. In this new book, Wynn masterfully synthesizes this literature, noting the continuities between African Americans' prewar experiences and their wartime and postwar experiences and pointing out the numerous ways in which the war changed the lives of African Americans. Wynn briefly traces African American service in the U.S. military prior to World War II, noting that black soldiers received numerous commendations despite the fact that they were frequently relegated to service or support roles. He observes that rioting in the 1910s and the rise of the Ku Klux Klan in the 1920s reminded African Americans that the Great War had not fundamentally changed the racial order in the United States. In the 1920s and 1930s, many African [End Page 130] Americans joined organizations such as Marcus Garvey's Universal Negro Improvement Association and the Communist Party with the goal of ending racial discrimination and violence. Most of the book focuses on the events of the 1940s. Wynn points out that African American leaders failed to persuade President Franklin D. Roosevelt to end segregation in the armed forces, but A. Philip Randolph's March on Washington Movement convinced Roosevelt to issue Executive Order 8802. This order banned racial discrimination by military contractors and established the Fair Employment Practices Committee (FEPC). Wynn concedes that the FEPC did not have the power to end discrimination completely, but he insists that its establishment was a significant precursor of later changes in federal policy. The military remained segregated throughout the war, but African American soldiers and African American organizations persistently protested both segregation and the mistreatment of African American soldiers. The wartime labor shortage offered African Americans unprecedented economic opportunities. The need of manufacturers for workers eventually overrode their racial prejudices. The promise of good jobs lured hundreds of thousands of African Americans to northern and western cities, where they encountered persistent housing discrimination. The tensions surrounding housing led in part to rioting in Detroit in 1943. Wynn notes that the war inspired many African Americans to take action to end discrimination. Pauli Murray, for example, staged sit-ins at Washington, D.C., restaurants in 1943 and 1944, and activists affiliated with the pacifist Fellowship of Reconciliation organized the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) in 1942. Wynn concludes by focusing on the immediate postwar years. He indicates that many African American veterans took advantage of the G.I. Bill of Rights, although Lizabeth Cohen demonstrates in A Consumer's Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in America (2003) that discrimination seriously limited the benefits that African American veterans derived from this legislation. Many veterans [End Page 131] encountered violence when they returned to the South. More than twenty-five African Americans were killed in racially motivated incidents between 1945 and 1947. Wynn defends Truman's record on civil rights, pointing out that he supported a permanent FEPC and appointed a committee to study civil rights. In addition to a thorough and concise synthetic narrative, this book contains a chronology of significant events in African American history from 1938 until 1948, forty pages of documents, and a seven-page annotated bibliography. The documents include excerpts from the writings of W. E. B. Du Bois, A. Philip Randolph, William H. Hastie, and Walter White. The brevity of this narrative and the chronology and documents should make this book ideal for assignment in courses in African American history when a paperback edition is published. Kevin Allen Leonard Kevin Allen Leonard teaches history at Western Washington University in Billingham, Washington. He is the author of The Battle for Los Angeles: Racial Ideology and World War II (2006) and is currently engaged in research on African Americans and the environment in post-World War II Southern California. Copyright © 2011 Kentucky Historical Society

Women's History and Digital Media: Uniting Scholarship and Pedagogy Shelley E. Rose (bio) Thomas Dublin and Kathryn Kish Sklar. "Black Women Suffragists."Women and Social Movements in the United States, 1600–2000. Alexander Street Press. ISSN 2164-537X (Basic Edition); ISSN 2164-5361 (Scholar's Edition). http://wass.alexanderstreet.com. P. Gabrielle Foreman. Colored Conventions Project. http://coloredconven-tions.org/. "History of Women's Struggle in South Africa."South African History Online. http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/history-womens-struggle-south-africa. In the twenty-fifth anniversary issue of the Journal of Women's History( JWH), historian Claire Bond Potter asks, "Has the Internet made a difference to the practice of women'shistory? If so, what difference has it made?" 1Potter emphasizes the potential and challenges of a range of digital resources for women's and gender history, focusing on matters of access, creation of community, and the role of such "traditional" academic arenas as print journals and the standard of sole authored works in the process. This digital media review essay marks the beginning of a new JWHinitiative, connecting the traditional and digital realms of publishing while enhancing a sense of community among scholars of women's and gender history from diverse backgrounds and career paths. The Journal of Women's Historyjoins such peer-reviewed journals as the American Historical Review, the Journal of American History, Western Historical Quarterly, and Bulletin of the History of Medicinein vetting digital media. In a timely intervention, the historian Cameron Blevins calls for historians to seize and shape the current wave of reviews. He observes that peer-review of digital projects ranges from informal Twitter dialogues and blog posts to print journals and, in his analysis, falls into three general categories: pedagogy and public engagement, academic scholarship, and data and design criticism. 2Limiting a digital media review to only one or two of these categories, however, potentially obscures a major contribution of digital projects. 3This review therefore focuses on the primary strength [End Page 157]of digital media projects: the ability to bridge the gap between scholarship and pedagogy. Currently, many digital media reviews reinforce a false dichotomy between scholarship and pedagogy. The Journal of American History( JAH), for example, sponsored by the Organization of American Historians, began publishing "web site reviews" as early as June 2009 in collaboration with the educator resources site History Mattersjointly sponsored by American Social History Project and the Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New Media. The JAHeditors explicitly name educators as their primary review audience. 4The American Historical Association (AHA) creates a similar separation between digital media scholarship and pedagogy. In 2016, the AHA Todayblog launched the excellent "Teaching with #DigHist" series, edited by historian and high school teacher John Rosinbum, which discusses the use of a range of digital projects in the secondary and university-level classroom. In terms of scholarship, Alex Lichtenstein's 2016 introduction to American Historical Review's "AHR Exchange: Reviewing Digital History," characterizes the AHR'sstrategy of pairing digital media reviews with responses from digital editors as an "opportunity to defend their approach and to clarify how the digital medium made it possible for them to push scholarship in new interpretive directions." 5This distinct focus on scholarly contributions in the traditional journal aligns with the AHA "Guidelines for the Professional Evaluation of Digital Scholarship by Historians," released in June 2015, where the terms "teaching" and "pedagogy" do not appear in the main section "Forms and Functions of Digital Scholarship." 6On the AHA website, however, these scholarship guidelines are found under the site heading "Teaching and Learning," which indicates the need for more focused discussions in the historical profession on the role of digital media projects in scholarship and teaching. Digital media consumers represent a broad audience, including academics who identify strongly with both scholar and educator communities. Early adopters of digital media, furthermore, are cognizant of statistics that reveal significant numbers of K-12 educators utilizing primary and secondary sources made available through large scale projects like German History in Documents and Images( GHDI) and the Library of Congress's American Memory. 7Data from...

Charisma and the Fictions of Black LeadershipExodus Politics: Civil Rights and Leadership in African American Literature and CultureMartin Luther King Jr., Heroism, and African American Literature

Reviewed by: Game of Privilege: An African American History of Golfby Lane Demas Kathleen McElroy Game of Privilege: An African American History of Golf. By Lane Demas. John Hope Franklin Series in African American History and Culture. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2017. Pp. xx, 363. $30.00, ISBN 978-1-4696-3422-7.) Lane Demas's exhaustive book Game of Privilege: An African American History of Golfreveals that a sport considered the epitome of whiteness played a significant role in shaping the black experience in the United States. Golf courses were not just physical spaces for black leisure and racial uplift—they were strolling battlegrounds in the African American freedom struggle. The competing interests often, in golf parlance, left an uneasy lie. "Like the dread and forbidden topic of intermarriage, the golf question makes everyone uncomfortable," remarked the white wife of Walter White, the fair-skinned NAACP leader (p. 206). National civil rights leaders ebbed and flowed in their support for integrating municipal golf courses, so local black men and women usually led the fight to access what Demas calls "the largest swath of white-only space," especially in southern cities (p. 181). African Americans who were passionate about golf—a pastime the black press eagerly promoted—built private courses, played on sometimes subpar black-only public courses, and competed on the United Golfers Association (UGA) tour, similar to the American Tennis Association for black tennis players. Demas recounts the exploits of male golfers thwarted by the Professional Golf Association's "Caucasian clause," which lasted until 1961 (p. 117). Demas, a history professor at Central Michigan University, obligatorily ends Game of Privilegewith a thoughtful discussion about Tiger Woods, race, money, and the superstar's lasting contribution to America. To Demas, that contribution certainly is not to American golf, where the black presence has shrunk since Woods's dominance at the turn of the twenty-first century. Instead, Demas concentrates on proving that African Americans made significant contributions to golf (such as dentist George Franklin Grant, who in 1899 [End Page 1053]patented the golf tee) and that integrating the sport was more than a middle-class folly. Doing so held the threat of jail, as was the case for six black golfers in Greensboro, North Carolina. Demas argues—somewhat convincingly—that the Supreme Court victories in Simkins v. City of Greensboro(1957) and Holmes v. City of Atlanta(1955) were as or more significant to integrating public spaces than Brown v. Board of Education(1954). Trying to upheave civil rights legacies he cannot budge, Demas also calls a seminal 1941 protest round of golf through a segregated Washington, D.C., public course more meaningful than Marian Anderson's 1939 concert at the Lincoln Memorial. More troubling is his correct but loose usage of the word "militancy" in describing both the actions of black activists who used legislative means to desegregate courses and those who murdered eight white people at a St. Croix golf club (pp. 201, 189). Ignore Demas's insistence that the first African American to compete in the fledgling U.S. Open, John Shippen in 1896, should be as remembered as Jackie Robinson. Instead, appreciate Demas's narratives about the ways Robinson and Joe Louis elevated golf's significance in America. Shortly before Robinson reintegrated Major League Baseball, the black press touted golf as more tolerant than baseball because of one big-money, integrated event. By 1952, Louis, who backed UGA tournaments, declared "'war on Jim Crow in golf '" (p. 120). After retiring in 1957, Robinson could not join any of the prestigious country clubs in the New York area, failed in business ventures to develop an integrated course, and declared golf the "'only sport in which a Negro does not have an equal chance today'" (p. 127). Demas's research, use of images, extensive footnotes, and historical tables make Game of Privilegeinvaluable for researching leisure, African American and southern history, and, of course, golf itself. As he hopes, Game of Privilegeindeed should start conversations—academic and, one hopes, during rounds of golf—about the ways Americans think about the sport's influence on race, and vice versa. Kathleen McElroy...

Reviewed by: Civil Rights Childhood: Picturing Liberation in African American Photobooks by Katharine Capshaw Gwen Athene Tarbox (bio) Capshaw, Katharine. Civil Rights Childhood: Picturing Liberation in African American Photobooks. Minneapolis, MN: U of Minneapolis P, 2014. To recognize that Katharine Capshaw’s Civil Rights Childhood: Picturing Liberation in African American Photobooks is a timely addition to the study of children’s literature and culture, visual studies, and African American history, one need only consider that its publication release date coincided with mass protests in Ferguson, Missouri, and in 140 cities nationwide, sparked by the Saint Louis County grand jury’s refusal to indict Darren Wilson, the white police officer who shot and killed unarmed African American teenager Michael Brown in August 2014. As newscasters, political pundits, and grassroots activists debated the civil rights status of African Americans under the aegis of the #BlackLivesMatter hashtag, contrasting photographs of Michael Brown—one in which he poses in his high school graduation regalia and another in which he looms over the viewer, wearing baggy trousers and holding his hand in what appears to be a gang sign—were referenced repeatedly. Brown’s detractors pointed to the latter photograph as evidence of the teenager’s culpability in his own death, whereas civil rights advocates used the former photograph to link the concepts of innocence and academic accomplishment to an African American subject. Given that the advent of photography took place at a time when the United States was still a slaveholding nation, photographic images of African Americans, especially those created for mass consumption, have often participated in what Capshaw terms “degradations and elisions of black character” (272). As such, civil rights era African American authors and artists attempted to reconceptualize black identity, especially by shaping visual narratives related to childhood, thus encouraging young readers to become “active interpreters of images and ideas,” in an ongoing struggle for justice (xxiv). As Capshaw demonstrates, what is at stake in the development of the African American photobook tradition is a desire to recast the status of African American children in the national imagination, an act that involves as much fortitude as that demonstrated by the Little Rock Nine or by the Selma freedom marchers. According to Capshaw, “to represent an innocent black child is an act of resistance in and of itself: it permits resistance to racist systems of power that malign and distort blackness through caricature; it enables resistance to the exclusion of black childhood from the terrain of childhood innocence; and it [End Page 222] allows black adults and children a renewed faith in the power of childhood to remake social relations” (29). Capshaw begins Civil Rights Childhood by providing a “capacious” definition of the children’s photobook as “a book with a child readership that sequences images and attaches that sequence to a narrative, whether fictional or nonfictional” (xiii). By broadening the scope of her inquiry to this extent, Capshaw is able to survey a wide range of text types designed to engage young readers with contemporary political and cultural realities through the medium of photography. Capshaw’s study proceeds chronologically from the 1944 publication of Jane Dabney Shackelford’s My Happy Days, a fictionalized account of a day in the life of a young African American student from Terre Haute, Indiana, meant to encourage support of friendship among the races in the years just prior to school desegregation, through Carole Boston Weatherford’s 2007 text Birmingham, 1963, a photobook that is accompanied by poetic exposition and highly stylized renderings of the familiar photographs of the four young girls who were killed in the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, repurposed to emphasize to contemporary readers that civil rights activism remains an ongoing project. The first two chapters of Civil Rights Childhood focus primarily on children’s photobooks created before the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka ruling that ushered in the civil rights movement. Forced to “tread lightly when articulating the need for social change” (xxiii), Shackelford in My Happy Days and Ellen Tarry in her 1946 My Dog Rinty depict young African American protagonists who invite the reader along as they interact with family, neighbors, and most importantly, friends...