Southern History

What is the worst nightmare anyone in academia could have, finding out that someone else has stolen your topic or plagiarized you? Even worse, knowing it was done because you are a woman. Idea theft is a huge problem in academia, and women are often the victims of these thefts by the much more powerful men in the profession. However, while an idea is undeveloped, it is much more brazen in academia to steal ideas and topics that are published and well-publicized. Publishing is supposed to ensure an academic's work is protected; well, that is what I thought. A woman without a doctorate can just be trampled on, published or not.

A BYU course paper where I examine how some more isolated areas of the would-be Confederacy fared better than the South as a whole during the economic plummet that devastated the region in the aftermath of the Civil War and years of Reconstruction.

In this course we will examine a variety of literature-poetry, short stories, and novelswritten by Southern authors and set in the American South. We will place particular focus on the post-World War II literature of the Southern Gothic. Students will be introduced to the particular artistry and concerns of Southern histories, cultures, and varieties of experience through a diverse group of authors. Important themes and issues emerging from our readings and discussion will include racism,

In the years following World War II, the national Democratic Party aligned its agenda more and more with the goals of the civil rights movement. By contrast, a majority of southern Democrats remained as committed as ever to a traditional, segregationist ideology. Through the career of Senator James Eastland, one of the mid-century’s most prominent politicians, author Maarten Zwiers explores the uneasy, yet mutually beneficial relationship between conservative southerners and the increasingly liberal party to which they belonged.

Mississippi Democrat James “Big Jim” Eastland began an influential four-decade career in the United States Senate in 1941, ultimately rising to become president pro tempore of the Senate, a position that placed him third in the line of presidential succession. His reputation for toughness developed from his unfailing and ruthless opposition to greater civil rights and his concern over the global spread of communism, as he believed participants in the two movements were working together to undermine the American way of life. Zwiers contends that despite Eastland’s extreme positions, he still managed to maintain influence through productive relationships with his Senate colleagues—liberal as well as conservative. Though the progressive wing of the Democratic Party continued to push for stronger civil rights legislation, they valued compromise with southern senators like Eastland in order to ensure support from a region the Democrats could ill afford to lose. While Eastland’s campaigning rhetoric was inflammatory, his ability to operate within the national political structure by leveraging moderate concessions contributed to his lengthy and effective career.

Drawing on recently opened archival records, Maarten Zwiers offers a nuanced portrait of a man frequently portrayed as a southern zealot. Senator James Eastland provides a case study of the complicated relationship between party and party members that allowed Democrats to maintain power in the South for much of the twentieth century.

See more at: http://lsupress.org/books/detail/senator-james-eastland/

Special attention to their perception of what we call "race".  Right away: perceptions of race changed over time, sometimes rapidly. Not a frozen mindset. Explosion of white settlers coming into this area in 1750s-60s Before we look at that, observe some things between the time Crystal talked about and 1750s. White people in area, we know little because no local county government to produce records, archeologists have ignored it, preferring Native cultures centuries earlier. Traders, esp deer skins, connected indigenous hunters with markets near coast.

A timely analysis of the power and limits of political parties—and the lessons of the Civil War and the New Deal in the Age of Trump.

American voters have long been familiar with the phenomenon of the presidential frontrunner. In 2008, it was Hillary Clinton. In 1844, it was Martin Van Buren. And in neither election did the prominent Democrat win the party's nomination. Insurgent candidates went on to win the nomination and the presidency, plunging the two-party system into disarray over the years that followed.

In this book, Cedric de Leon analyzes two pivotal crises in the American two-party system: the first resulting in the demise of the Whig party and secession of eleven southern states in 1861, and the present crisis splintering the Democratic and Republican parties and leading to the election of Donald Trump. Recasting these stories through the actions of political parties, de Leon draws unsettling parallels in the political maneuvering that ultimately causes once-dominant political parties to lose the people's consent to rule.

Crisis! takes us beyond the common explanations of social determinants to illuminate how political parties actively shape national stability and breakdown. The secession crisis and the election of Donald Trump suggest that politicians and voters abandon the political establishment not only because people are suffering, but also because the party system itself is unable to absorb an existential challenge to its power. Just as the U.S. Civil War meant the difference between the survival of a slaveholding republic and the birth of liberal democracy, what political elites and civil society organizations do today can mean the difference between fascism and democracy.

When the United States emerged as a world power in the years before the Civil War, the men who presided over the nation’s triumphant territorial and economic expansion were largely southern slaveholders. As presidents, cabinet officers, and diplomats, slaveholding leaders controlled the main levers of foreign policy inside an increasingly powerful American state. This Vast Southern Empire explores the international vision and strategic operations of these southerners at the commanding heights of American politics. As Matthew Karp demonstrates, these leaders were nationalists, not separatists. The empire of their dreams was not an independent South but the entire United States, and only the election of Abraham Lincoln broke their grip on national power. Fortified by years at the helm of U.S. foreign affairs, slaveholding elites formed their own Confederacy―not only as a desperate effort to preserve their property but as a confident bid to shape the future of the Atlantic world.

The safety bicycle arrived in the U.S. South at the beginning of a transition from relative African American freedom following the Civil War to a reassertion of white hegemony. This article examines how southerners interpreted the meanings and practices of the safety bicycle through a contingent spatial and mobility politics found at the intersection of race and technology. For African Americans, the bicycle was both a symbolic and real opportunity to express modern freedoms at the moment those freedoms were being curtailed. Black cyclists whether they used the bicycle for leisure or utilitarian purposes contested the meanings and limits of mobility in the early Jim Crow period. The South, however, was not the only region of the world where the politics of race shaped bicycle mobilities and this article points to the ways the African American experience of bicycle technology mirrors but does not necessarily replicate places beyond the United States. Ultimately, this article traces how technological innovations such as the safety bicycle can be both disrupt but also uphold structures of power.

This article intersects various secondary works that analyze regional memories in the US South, slave marital practices, and the intellectual history of slavery in the United States. Following a brief analysis of the “Plantation Myth,” I examine the proslavery framework established by southern apologists in the antebellum era and gauge how postbellum authors built upon these arguments. The next part critically probes memoirists’ usage of descriptive material, scrutinizing their motivations for producing the literature, the tone conveyed through their writing, and how they used the wedding ceremony as a symbol for slavery’s benignity. Following this qualitative data, I examine a research sample found in the collections of Herman Clarence Nixon, a prolific author in the early twentieth century who interviewed former slave owners for his research on slavery in northern Alabama. Finally, this article reveals how postbellum reminiscences portrayed a myth of gender solidarity that transcended racial boundaries.

By showing how geometric overshot coverlets can be understood in relationship to the global economy and within politicized cultural movements, Falls and Smith demonstrate how these erstwhile domestic, utilitarian objects explode the art/craft dichotomy, belong to a rich narrative of historical art forms, and tell us far more about American culture today than simply representing a nostalgic past, particularly with regard to ideas about race, class, nationalism, women’s labor, and the separation of private versus public spaces.

See research exhibition catalog (Fold/Unfold) here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1548165727/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i3

The Confederacy whispers across the psyche of America like a corpse that refuses to die. Its ghosts hamper our forward movement and prevent our culture from truly embracing the science and new thinking needed to address present-day complexity. The offspring of this benighted era of open white supremacy despises the idea of an American society where the longstanding divisions its power depends upon are finally and thoroughly vanquished. They resist the continuing maturation and even the survival of our democracy. I call the embodiment of these longings for a reinstallation of the sad system of domination, heartlessness, and cruelty that was the Confederacy “The Zombie Named Dixie”

The ways in which the profound prejudices of the Confederate slave system continue to pollute the American landscape are at the heart of this essay. Some personal reminiscences about being a native son of the South are combined with a reading of history that focuses on the consequences of Abraham Lincoln’s death for our current national condition. Specifically, I am concerned with how America’s untreated pathology of white primacy persists and the growing threat it poses.

In much of the South in the decades before the Civil War, the social culture of plantation slavery produced a cultural ideal that relegated poor landless whites to the margins. This was partly due to the economic condition of poor whites, and their lack of property, but more importantly, it resulted from their inability to live up to cultural ideals of whiteness. An ideal that was wrapped up in a southern honor culture coached in the social culture of plantation slavery.

Latino migration to the US South is not a new phenomenon. Claims of a "Nuevo New South " are thus products of the scholarly and popular imaginations rather than the historical record. Indeed, the claim of a rupture with the past has the potential to obscure the fact that contemporary relationships of race and class have their roots in the dilemmas that have confronted white and black Southerners since Emancipation. If the times and places of " the New South " meant something different to African Americans than it did to white observers and boosters, what have the times and places of the " Nuevo " South meant to Latino immigrants? Do those meanings, in fact, originate in a novel globalizing moment at the turn of the twenty-first century? And how can teasing out Latino immigrants' own narratives about the region help social scientists and historians find more appropriate ways of conceptualizing Latino immigration's meaning for the South as a whole?

areas of empire formation in the western Sahel, eighth to sixteenth centuries. 41 2.3 Rainfall patterns in the West African rice region. 45 2.4 Mandinka women displaying bundles of African and Asian rice. Photo by author. 51 2.5 Diola woman hoeing rice field, Casamance, Senegal. Courtesy Paul Pélissier. 52 2.6 Temne woman parboiling rice in Sierra Leone. Courtesy David P. Gamble. 53 2.7 Mandinka women using the long-handled hoe, the baaro. Courtesy David P. Gamble. 54 2.8 Mandinka women in inland swamp with the short-handled hoe, the daba. Photo by author. 55 2.9 Manjak man using the long-handled kayendo in field preparation, Guinea-Bissau. Photo by author. 56 2.10 Rice cultivation along a landscape gradient: central Gambia. 57 2.11 Inland swamp system. Photo by author. 59 2.12 Use of palms for sluices in water control, inland swamp. Photo by author. 60 2.13 Diola women transplanting rice in The Gambia. Photo by author. 61 2.14 Tidal rice cultivation, seasonally saline river, The Gambia. Courtesy

In 1932, Wilder, Tennessee, a “company” coal town in the upper Cumberland Plateau, was the site of a strike between Fentress Coal and Coke Company of Nashville and United Mine Workers Union #467, the only labor union south of the Ohio River at the time.1 The strike became a crisis of hunger, injustice, and murder. This strike coincided with Myles Horton’s founding of the Highlander Folk School in Monteagle, Tennessee. Horton, already conscious of class and labor injustice in the South, found that his exposure to the violence and inequality of the strike created a more human vision for educating Appalachian people at Highlander. Exposure to the crisis also solidified his mission, honed his compassion, and gave birth to some of his strategies for social change.

areas of empire formation in the western Sahel, eighth to sixteenth centuries. 41 2.3 Rainfall patterns in the West African rice region. 45 2.4 Mandinka women displaying bundles of African and Asian rice. Photo by author. 51 2.5 Diola woman hoeing rice field, Casamance, Senegal. Courtesy Paul Pélissier. 52 2.6 Temne woman parboiling rice in Sierra Leone. Courtesy David P. Gamble. 53 2.7 Mandinka women using the long-handled hoe, the baaro. Courtesy David P. Gamble. 54 2.8 Mandinka women in inland swamp with the short-handled hoe, the daba. Photo by author. 55 2.9 Manjak man using the long-handled kayendo in field preparation, Guinea-Bissau. Photo by author. 56 2.10 Rice cultivation along a landscape gradient: central Gambia. 57 2.11 Inland swamp system. Photo by author. 59 2.12 Use of palms for sluices in water control, inland swamp. Photo by author. 60 2.13 Diola women transplanting rice in The Gambia. Photo by author. 61 2.14 Tidal rice cultivation, seasonally saline river, The Gambia. Courtesy

Phoebe Yates Levy Pember was up to the challenge and became one of the South's most remembered female hospital matrons and nurse in the largest military hospital in Confederacy during the Civil War. Pember believed, "A woman must soar beyond the conventional modesty considered correct under different circumstances."  For Phoebe Pember working as a hospital matron was part of showing her devotion to the Confederate cause. Writing in her memoir, A Southern Woman's Story: Life in Confederate Richmond, Phoebe noted, “The women of the south had been openly and violently rebellious from the moment they thought their states' rights touched. They incited the men to struggle in support of their views, and whether right or wrong, sustained them nobly to the end. They were the first to rebel--the last to succumb. Taking an active part in all that came within their sphere, and often compelled to go beyond this when the field demanded as many soldiers as could be raised; feeling a passion of interest in every man in the gray uniform of the Confederate service; they were doubly anxious to give comfort and assistance to the sick and wounded.”

“Democracy in Black and White”: Wil Lou Gray,
Black Illiteracy, and Progress in
South Carolina, 1930–1938" p. 37-52

From her state supervisory position and through programs designed to provide educational opportunities for black adults, Gray, in the 1930s, used adult education as a portal to carry out a sustained and shrewd attack against the racism, illiteracy and political lethargy commonplace in South Carolina. Brought up in a white, upper-class household in South Carolina, Gray had been reared to accept the prevailing gender, class, and racial mores of her region. Yet Gray proffered a perspective on black life that defied the dominant regional narrative of black racial inferiority. Regional progress on race relations depended upon whites’ envisioning black people as fully human with similar potential. This paper examines projects led by Gray in the 1930s that reveal she was instrumental in this process. In 1931, with the assistance of northern academics and a Carnegie Foundation grant, she conducted an educational experiment, herein called the Seneca study, that proved there was little difference in the learning capacity of black and white adults in favorable environ- ments.2 In 1935 she led four thousand black men and women on a one-day pilgrimage to the State House, and from 1934 to 1937 she held opportunity schools for black adults – four-week residential camps for adult illiterates – at Voorhees Technical College in Denmark, South Carolina. In addition to the three R’s, the curriculum at these summer camps focused on African heritage and identity. In the context of Depression-era South Carolina, where race violence, poverty and illiteracy shaped the lives of many African Americans in the state, her work marked a radical departure from the status quo.

Using a review of several letters from the papers of Rice C. Ballard, a former Virginia slave trader, this article examines the lives " fancy girls, " a little known group of high-end, enslaved women who were sold for use as concubines or prostitutes during antebellum America. Specifically, this study uses letters from two women to demonstrate how this unique female slave encountered an industrializing America in ways that often differ from the experiences of other female slaves.

In his book Knight’s Gambit, Faulkner used the medieval game of chess, Quixotic imagery, and romance to evoke a morality play (181) by which he underscored the ideals he agreed with, and repudiated those which he rejected from amongst the cavalier chivalry code of Southern cultural heritage, and showed the tragicomic nature of the Old South.  Taylor Haygood said that William Faulkner borrowed the myth of Camelot from Thomas Malory in order to illuminate a “mythic Old South that collapses from corruption hidden behind and undermining its gallant and beautiful facade.”  Like England’s Tolkien or Lewis, Faulkner engages in myth development.  He wants the South to be remembered and understood as a tragedy, and he knows that this arrested development (from the Civil War) is what will give it lasting power (Haygood, 45-6).

Running at high speed and sudden change in direction or activity stresses the knee. Surprisingly, not many studies have investigated the effects of sprinting on knee's kinetics and kinematics of soccer players. Hence, this study is aimed to investigate indices of injury risk factors of jumping-landing maneuvers performed immediately after sprinting in male soccer players.

This study may emphasize Southern Jewish women and the Civil War but the span of this book ranges over 100 years, and at the heart examines the Jewish-Christian relationship and definitions of race that have made the South unique in American history. Southern Jews’ position and status in the Southern white world were forever linked to the position of blacks in Southern society, and assimilation with the customs of Southern Christian society the key to acceptance. The best preventative measure against the Jewish age, old fight with anti-Semitism was acceptance. As Karen Brodkin explains in How Jews Became White Folks and What that Says About Race in America, "With slavery, blackness became stigmatized as servile and worse, and whiteness became a privileged condition made visible by its never-ending efforts to distinguish itself from blackness."  For Southern Jewry and most particularly upper class South Jewish women’s goal in the Antebellum and Civil War South was being considered white.

This article explores the ways in which architecture, landscape design, and site planning helped maintain racial segregation in housing in Atlanta, Georgia, between the 1960s and 1990s. Under Jim Crow, apartment complexes in Atlanta hewed to national design norms. By the late 1960s, however, racial tension, rioting, and passage of the Fair Housing Act led to proliferation of the architecture of enclosure: design that helped code communities as white through pastoral symbolism and heavy, obscuring landscaping. The concept, which appeared to a lesser degree in other U.S. housing markets, was introduced to Atlanta at Riverbend (1966-1972), a swinging-singles complex developed in part by Dallas's Trammell Crow with a site plan by California's Lawrence Halprin & Associates. The practice was generalized in the 1970s and 1980s by Post Properties, which became one of the region's largest builders.

Currently, little scholarly work is present on the Beaumont Race Riot of 1943. While the Beaumont riot represents only one incident during a period of many, its significance to Southeast Texas history has not been adequately categorized. Much of the work done on the riot centers around the newspaper articles written at the time, but these accounts differ from publication to publication. The actual police and National Guard records from the incident in June 1943 do not appear at all. Focusing on police and military response, and beginning with the rape report that lit the fire of the riot, one can begin to catalogue the event into a timeline that can then be compared to the newspaper articles and first-person accounts. This chronologically organized study into the Beaumont Race Riot of 1943 might then offer a deeper insight into the events of June, 1943 from beginning to end and the clear steps that led to each shift. 
Using the resources cited above, a short summary of race riot history and the historiography of scholarship on the topic will begin the study but the bulk of the work will consist with the building of a timeline of the incident, backed by police and military reports. Newspaper articles and first-person interviews will then be added into the timeline of events to showcase the contentious nature of the time in which the riot occurred and the overall feeling of the period and the people involved.

This report covers the history of the landowners, tenants, and slaves who inhabited the properties that later became consolidated into Robins Air Force Base .  The area studied is in the northeastern corner of Houston County, Georgia, USA, near the center of the state.

This report, requested by the Clotilda Descendants Association, traces a seven-generation genealogical African-American line of descent from Africa to the present in Alabama.  This line focuses on descendants of Gracie McCrear (a.k.a. Crear or Craigher) and her daughter Matilda McCrear (or Crear), and in later generations, the family of John (Johnny) Crear of Selma, Alabama.  Matilda was a heroic woman of the “Tarkar” cultural group or Yoruba tribe, born in about 1858 in the area of what is now Benin or Nigeria, who was captured at about age two, sold into slavery, and transported in 1860 on the last slave ship to arrive in the United States – the infamous Clotilda.  The report provides genealogical assertions and numerous proofs for each generation in the line, including photos and some biographical information of some descendants.  The proofs are not just footnotes, but provide the full information obtained from each source, so that conflicting or problematic items can be compared and evaluated.

Situating Harper Lee's work in its proper historical context, this essay argues that Atticus Finch was involved in a longterm intimate relationship with Calpurnia, his African American housekeeper, and is the father of her son Zeebo. As such, it identifies a hitherto unnoticed, albeit circumscribed, political agency exhibited by black women under slavery and Jim Crow, one that was to prove essential to the struggle for black liberation. To Kill a Mockingbird, it agues, is less a novel about a white savior than a novel that reveals the blindness, of both its characters and many of its readers, to the nature of black struggle in the United States.
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http://post45.research.yale.edu/2018/01/the-other-finch-family-atticus-calpurnia-zeebo-and-black-womens-agency-in-to-kill-a-mockingbird-and-go-set-a-watchman/