I am a recent graduate of the public history graduate program at Rutgers University. I currently serve as the digital media coordinator for the Mid-Atlantic Regional Center for the Humanities, where I wrangle bloggers and tackle our social media platforms.

In the last two years I've created an oral history database using StoriesMatter for the Salem County Historical Society, collected data on school group attendance for the education department at Cleveland's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and I've digitized the Balch Institute Ethnic Images in Advertising Collection at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. I volunteer at the Alice Paul Institute in Mt. Laurel, New Jersey and the Digital Center at HSP.

In my spare time I am often silly and irreverent.

 

philamuseum:

This Thanksgiving edition of More Art Monday is a veritable feast of turkeys from the online collection. Brought to you by your gracious hosts, ART 24/7.

Carved Wild Turkey, Made in Pennsylvania, United States, North and Central America c. 1900 John Reber, American, 1851 - 1937 Painted wood, metal, gesso 9 3/8 x 8 x 3 inches (23.8 x 20.3 x 7.6 cm) Currently not on view.

Fan, Made in United States, North and Central America Late 19th century Artist/maker unknown, American Turkey feathers; woven straw handle Length: 13 inches (33 cm) Currently not on view.

Turkey, Made in Idaho, United States, North and Central America Date unknown James Castle, American, 1899 - 1977 Thin gray cardboard; cut, torn, and folded; punched, stitched and tied with white string; red and brown washes, soot-and-spit stick-applied lines and wiped soot wash, black wax crayon Overall (irregular): 12 x 11 1/2 inches (30.5 x 29.2 cm) Currently not on view

Russia (Russian Couple with a Child and a Turkey), Made in Japan, Asia Edo Period (1615-1868), 1860 Utagawa Yoshitomi, Japanese, active c. 1848-80. Published by Kiya Söjirö (Kisö), Köbökudö. Color woodcut Öban yoko-e: 9 1/8 x 13 1/4 inches (23.2 x 33.7 cm) Currently not on view.

Dinner Service Platter, “Wild Turkey”, From the state dinner and dessert service of Rutherford B. Hayes (President 1877-1881) Made in Limoges, France, Europe c. 1882 Designed by Theodore Russell Davis, American, 1840 - 1894. Made by Haviland et Cie, Limoges, France, 1842 - present. Porcelain with chromolithograph, enamel, and gilt decoration Length: 19 7/8 inches (50.5 cm) Currently not on view.

pag-asaharibon:

Marvels and Monsters: Unmasking Asian Images in U.S. Comics, 1942 -1986 and Alt.Comics: Asian American Artists Reinvent the Comic Book

Marvels and Monsters: Unmasking Asian Images in U.S. Comics, 1942 -1986 and Alt.Comics: Asian American Artists Reinvent the Comic Book – two new exhibitions exploring the relationship between Asian Americans and comic books, will be on view at The Museum of Chinese in America from September 27, 2012 through February 24, 2013. 

Recently donated to the NYU Fales Library & Special Collection, Marvels and Monsters is drawn from what is widely considered the world’s largest archive of comic books featuring images of Asian and Americans, painstakingly collected over four turbulent decades (1940s to 1980s) by science fiction author and cultural studies scholar William F. Wu. The compilation offers a unique glimpse into America’s evolving racial and cultural sensibilities, as depicted by wartime images of racist propaganda and xenophobic anxiety over Chinese immigration to lasting archetypes which continue to define America’s perception of Asians today.

According to curator Jeff Yang, “All of the key elements that have shaped who we are as a people have occurred during this time: Pearl Harbor, Japanese internment camps, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, ethnic enclaves, the Asian American rights movement, and the economic rise of Japan and China. What Wu has done is to collect images shaped by political forces to tell a narrative of how America views Asians.”

Marvels and Monsters is a selection of the most indelible images from Wu’s collection, placed within a historical context and juxtaposed with insights from contemporary Asian American writers and artists Ken Chen, Larry Hama, David Henry Hwang, Vijay Prashad, and Gene Luen Yang. The exhibition also incorporates elements meant to encourage direct engagement with the archetypes, such as life-size cutouts allowing visitors to put themselves “inside the image” and an installation called “Shades of Yellow” which matches the shades used for Asian skin tones in the comics with their garish Pantone TM color equivalents.

Alt.Comics extends the conversation of Marvels & Monstersinto the present, showcasing the efforts of Asian American artists to establish a new and authentic identity by subverting stereotypes and juxtaposing disparate images. The exhibition focuses on alternative and independent comic spaces, particularly in the hubs of San Francisco and New York, which produced many of the most prominent artists in the independent scene. The exhibition features work by: Larry Hama, Alex Joon Kim, Derek Kirk Kim, Jerry Ma, Christine Norrie, Thien Pham, Lark Pien, Jason Shiga, GB Tran, and Gene Luen Yang.

This exhibition includes excerpts from Secret Identities Volume 2: Shattered, a follow-up to the groundbreaking compilation using the comic format “to upend, re-envision, re-imagine – to shatter – the distorted and negative images that have shadowed Asian Americans since the earliest days of our arrival in this country.” The Secret Identities component includes the work of: Jeremy Arambulo, Jef Castro, Louie Chin, Johann Choi, Ming Doyle, Robin Ha, Kripa Joshi, Eric Kim, Alice Meichi Li, Jerry Ma, Jamie Noguchi, Saumin Patel, Tak Toyoshima, GB Tran, Glenn Urieta, and DaFu Yu.

Marvels & Monsters is curated by Jeff Yang and organized by the A/P/A Institute at NYU. It was originally exhibited at NYU Fales Library, and was recently shown at the Asian Arts Initiative in Philadelphia.Alt.Comics is curated by Jeff Yang for the Museum of Chinese in America. 

The Museum of Chinese in America is at 215 Centre Street, Manhattan; 212-619-4785. The museum is closed on Mondays. Target Free Thursdays: Free gallery admission is through the generosity of Target. General Admission: $10 Seniors (65+ with ID) and Students (w/school ID): $5 Children under 12 in groups less than 8: Free (source)

UFYH posted this challenge today and after weeks of lurking, I inexplicably obeyed.  I have no idea how long it took, but it couldn’t have been more than 40 minutes or so.  The hardest part was deciphering the expiration dates on some of the condiments (which, btw is a bad sign).  The before looks worse than it really was (though it was bad enough) because the Spousal Unit has a tendency to stand with the door open going, “where is X?” if it isn’t right in front of his face.  Bless his heart.  

Unrelated note:  Discovered pickled plums, kimchee, preserved radish and fish cakes hiding in the back corner of the top shelf.  What does one do with pickled plums anyway?

I had one of those moments five minutes ago, where I thought “I can’t do this.”  It was brief, just a flicker really.  Man, I had to quash that thought FAST.  I’m in the middle of an internship at the Historical Society of Philadelphia, chairing (inadvertently) the planning committee for the next Public History Community Forum, writing blogs and articles, prepping for orals (aka, the panel of DOOM), attending lectures and conferences and workshops, and tracking down viable and meaningful volunteer opportunities and working part-time at MARCH.  Oh yeah, and still learning how to play the erhu, because I’m crazy. 
I do not DO NOT have time for fear or uncertainty.  I have time for coffee and protein bars.  I have time to give Bento and Caixa a squeeze or three.  I make time for the Spousal Unit who is gearing up for his own end-of-the-semester shenanigans (professors suffer too).
See, I like doing all those things.  This is why I’m bothering to be a Public Historian or Public Humanist or Humanist or whatever you want to call it.  I like it, I care, and I want to keep doing it, preferably for money.  Hence the orals, committees, lectures, workshops, conferences, writing, gritty protein bars and hurried kitty lovings.  
I want to be like the lion in this picture.  Strong.  Noble.  Dependable.  Alas, I’m like the redhead.. Passionate.  Slightly off her nut.  Squinting.  
Wish me luck!  

I had one of those moments five minutes ago, where I thought “I can’t do this.”  It was brief, just a flicker really.  Man, I had to quash that thought FAST.  I’m in the middle of an internship at the Historical Society of Philadelphia, chairing (inadvertently) the planning committee for the next Public History Community Forum, writing blogs and articles, prepping for orals (aka, the panel of DOOM), attending lectures and conferences and workshops, and tracking down viable and meaningful volunteer opportunities and working part-time at MARCH.  Oh yeah, and still learning how to play the erhu, because I’m crazy. 

I do not DO NOT have time for fear or uncertainty.  I have time for coffee and protein bars.  I have time to give Bento and Caixa a squeeze or three.  I make time for the Spousal Unit who is gearing up for his own end-of-the-semester shenanigans (professors suffer too).

See, I like doing all those things.  This is why I’m bothering to be a Public Historian or Public Humanist or Humanist or whatever you want to call it.  I like it, I care, and I want to keep doing it, preferably for money.  Hence the orals, committees, lectures, workshops, conferences, writing, gritty protein bars and hurried kitty lovings.  

I want to be like the lion in this picture.  Strong.  Noble.  Dependable.  Alas, I’m like the redhead.. Passionate.  Slightly off her nut.  Squinting.  

Wish me luck!  

Spend a few minutes clicking and help FEMA coordinate disaster response

nypl:

Our NYPL Labs crowdsourcing projects What’s on The Menu and The Stereogranimator have been knocked offline because of Hurricane Sandy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t channel your working internet connection for good.
The Humanitarian OpenStreetMaps Team (HOT) have built a tool, in conjunction with the US Civil Air Patrol and FEMA to help coordinate FEMA’s post-disaster response by asking you to help classify building damage in disaster-affected areas. You’re asked to rate photos, taken over the past few days, by the Civil Air Patrol, of disaster-affected areas, and note whether the building damage is light, moderate, or heavy, and from your answers, combined with the judgement of many others, helps inform FEMA as to where their teams are most needed. Think of it as Hot or Not with a humanitarian bent.
If you’re missing the NYPL Labs projects or just want to help out, please spend a few minutes of your time (or more) and help make a difference informing disaster responders.

colieolie asked:

thelastgreatpoolparty:

themuseologist:

I’ve let this ask sit for a few days, because it made me feel some notion of sadness to read. I think I owe you an apology, because I do not want to be misleading in the content of this blog.

I am a junior BA in Museum Studies/Art History. I am thousands of dollars in debt going into a highly competitive non-profit field that almost always necessitates further schooling. I can’t say honestly that majoring in, for example, business would be much wiser with the amount of debt I have, but I certainly can’t think of anything more precarious in terms of a manageable future. Your friends and family aren’t wrong - going into an industry that almost always means you will make very little money relative to your education, despite having spent massive amounts on the education necessary to obtain your job (if you get one at all) is unwise at best.

Going over the stats in my Museum Education class only compounded the points further in my mind — the people who get into the field of museums are mostly rich and (by extension) mostly white. I am not at all rich, and latina, so from the beginning I knew things would be “different” for me. If you’re very rich, more power to you! But I think you should be honest with yourself if you are not. The field of Museums is a horrible waste of your money if you don’t have any. You have no way of getting it back - you just have to hope that working for a non-profit and paying loans on time for long enough (I think it’s something like 13 years…?) means the government will forgive your loans. Eventually. Grad school that is unfunded is the definition of a waste of your money. Or your parent’s money. They’re not reminding you of this to be mean, they’re trying to help you.

I am not telling you it’s impossible, I’m telling you it’s difficult at best. I’m telling you that I have been passed over for an internship (despite prior experience) in favor of someone who had absolutely no experience related whatsoever, and said she got the job for showing enough enthusiasm. I’m telling you that will happen. People who have nothing prior will get the job. People will apply for jobs they’re not at all qualified in, and massive amounts of other qualified people will also apply. I’m telling you, that my brutally honest professor’s “pep” talk was that I needed a 3.8 GPA for Graduate school, that I shouldn’t bother applying to top schools because I go to a massive non-elite state school (I can’t afford elsewhere), and that a Master’s in Museum Studies would be pointless. I need a PhD in Art History. I’m telling you my less brutally honest professor informed us she had a complete breakdown six weeks into Grad School and had to remember to start doing things that weren’t studying for Grad School again (things like functioning at a healthy livable level).

You need to be brutally honest about why you’re doing this. It’s not to make money. And it’s not because you think the mass public thinks what you want to do is a necessity to society the same way a Civil Engineer or a Firefighter or a Doctor might be. Hell, most people know what a lawyer does, you’re lucky if people even know what “Museum Studies” does - besides the hesitant “Do you want to be a curator?” So if not for recognition (worth), or money (unlikely), why do you do this?

It’s because you really, really love doing it.

But please don’t bear false hopes based on this blog - not when I purposefully reblog things like this. I’ve only had one person in the field insist that the outlook isn’t so dismal as I believe it to be, but most every grad student or young professional appears concerned at best.

Frankly, as passionate as I am, as much as I want to work in this field, I have started considering what my back up plans and abilities could be. All my experience is in the Arts field right now, save for some minor temp-work. Frankly, I’ve been looking at everything from teaching english abroad for a year to continuing temp and maybe secretarial work. I have no promise of a job in the field or a grad school acceptance (that I can afford.) I just lined up an internship for my next semester at a great little gallery, but I understand that all the internships in the world won’t assure me a career in the field.

I’m not trying to caution you away from this, or your Graduate degree. But I do think you should be honest about what the realities of it are.

The Museologist is legit.

Ah, the eternal debate: glass half full versus glass half empty.  Perhaps it’s: Dude, where’s my glass?  Friends in the field assure me that I will “get something,” that the BA in history, the MA in Public History, and three unpaid internships serve as a good foundation for many entry-level positions.  I agree.  I have developed some pretty strong skills, but so have any number of people in my classes, my region, my profession. So on and so forth.

It’s hard.  It’s hard because growing up I was told to should do something I love for a so that I would always love going to work.  As we’ve gotten older, we’ve realized that’s not always possible; sometimes you just get a job so that you can keep living.  There’s no shame in that, sometimes those second or even third choices can be fun, but man… it hurts.  

It hurts to know things and work at a place that doesn’t care, or at the very least, can’t find a purpose for the things you know.  So of course we keep trying.  The Museologist is right, be enthusiastic, but respect yourself enough to keep your eyes open. 

Unsolicited Advice Warning:  What I have found to be beneficial is expanding the circle of people you know.  Keep going to events if you can, and not just museum conferences but lectures by public humanists, THATCamps, workshops or graduate student conferences.  Many of these will be free, dirt cheap, or perhaps even subsidized, check to see if your department offers travel scholarships.  Once you hit these events talk to the people.  Ask questions.  Introduce yourself or kindly ask a person to introduce you around.  All three of my internships came about from personal relationships and networking.  

A caveat:  Getting to work for free is SO MUCH EASIER than convincing someone to let you work for them for money.  When I figure out the magic combination of skills, intellect and charisma that conjures careers, I’m going to patent it and retire.

(Source: )

A lovely old tin of Catholic holy cards

Deviating from my norm (?) with this.  I met Sherry Howard in Philadelphia last weekend and when she mentioned her blog I had to check it out.  I enjoy her conversational tone and she chooses compelling feature objects.  

 

(Image: http://myauctionfinds.com/2012/10/25/a-lovely-old-tin-of-catholic-holy-cards/)

What a strange power there is in clothing. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer | The Mid-Atlantic Regional Center for the Humanities

Heidi Campbell-Shoaf wrote about Living History Practitioners a few months back, and returned to the topic in today’s blog.  The question she asks of Public Historians at the end of her post is intriguing, but I’m interested in hearing what visitors/audiences actually say about the “funny clothing” rather than what Public Historians say visitors/audiences are saying about the “funny clothing.”  

Apologies for that wonky sentence.  

Overall, I have to say that I still think most museums suck. Every single one should be improved, even the Skirball. You have to make it hands-on and interactive. All you museum people should go over to the Natural History Museum. This is a great museum because it covers so many time periods. I thought it was going to be too kiddish, but it turned out to be really interesting. They show you what early men might have looked like, for example. Museums like these really attract the public. I used to ask my history teacher why art was important. She told me that it helps us understand how people expressed themselves in ancient times. I asked why we’d want to know that. She told me to stop asking stupid questions. So I’d be like, how is that a stupid question? Then I would get detention. But it’s not a stupid question, is it?

LA Youth » Why museums suck

That’s the most important question.