The following is a guest post from Joshua Koepke (MA Candidate in Folklore and Ethnomusicology/MLS Candidate in the Luddy School of Informatics)as part of the 2022 spring course ILS-Z604/FOLK-F804 Folklore Archives in the Digital Age.
I’ve sat in archives to read all sorts of materials: from newspapers detailing important events, to letters addressing dignitaries with bad penmanship, and even some thick binders of technical building specifications (that is, if caffeine is aplenty). Political jokes recorded by college students about Nixon and Vice President Agnew never crossed my mind. That is until I got to sit down with the political jokes section of the IU Folklore Institute jokes collection at Indiana University Archives. It was here, yes thanks to Sprio Agnew, where the differences between archives and folklore archives draw such distinction.
Traditional archives are repositories for preserving the legacy and mission of large institutions and preeminent individuals.1 Archives are common for governments and large educational institutions. Indiana University is no exception, having a large University Archives to store blueprints of buildings, the papers of chancellors, and official governing documents. Famous families and wealthy individuals also often create archives to preserve their successes in business, politics, or social status. Regardless of subject, paper records dominate holdings, but generally do not give an understanding of the daily life and traditions of the common people.
In contrast, folklore is fundamentally of the people. Richard Dorson, a prominent folklorist and the creator of the collection under exploration, explained folklore as the traditions of the people, and defined four areas of collection: oral literature, material culture, social folk custom, and performing folk arts.2 Folklore material has a strong oral tradition to pass along information, related to any area of collection, while strongly influencing folklore archival holdings. Major differences in holdings between archival entities exist, with folklore archives amassing unpublished fieldwork from trained folklorists, as they record informants on paper or mediated through technology for future research use.3
How do jokes fit into folklore? While the arrangements of names and classification schemes that make up folklore vary, to take Dorson’s four categories mapping, jokes reside within oral literature. Jokes exhibit the characteristics of oral tradition as they are mostly unwritten, unfettered by institutions, and circulated through oral recounting.4 It is common for jokes to only keep a punchline consistent and, like oral traditions, to have variances within other areas of the joke. The greater the frequency of joke circulation, the higher the chance for differences to appear, as joke tellers tailor jokes to specific audiences or to please their own views on an issue. The subject matter of jokes often changes to reflect the topics considered important to the people of the day, yet often include motifs or sayings with traditional origin. Christie Davies, a prominent joke researcher, described the importance of studying joke folklore:
It is precisely because jokes in circulation are unfiltered that we can use them as a true indication of what a people laugh at. The jokes told on radio or television tell us mainly what particular writers, performers, producers, broadcasting officials, sponsors, and buyers of programs have decided; jokes in oral circulation reflect the tastes and perceptions of ordinary individuals.5
Thus studying the jokes in oral circulation at a given time is important, but people will rarely tell authentic jokes to outsiders. Knowing this, folklore researchers, like Richard Dorson, utilized students in folklore classes for joke collection, as they could tap into already established friend networks for research purposes.6
This collections supplies examples of how jokes exhibit the oral tradition of adaptation while keeping the same message even over a relatively short span of time. Each joke’s point centers around Spiro Agnew’s apparent difficulties with speaking to the American people, by playing on the popular phrase “putting one’s foot in their mouth”.7 The first joke chronologically recorded in the collection reads, “‘Did you hear about the conspiracy to shoot Agnew’s foot off? They are hoping that by shooting his foot off he would starve to death because he would not have anything to put in his mouth’”.8 The next version of the joke, recorded four days later states, “‘Do you know the only time Agnew opens his mouth is to change shoes’”.9 Note that this time the punchline is implied. Finally, a third, undated rendition of the joke is documented as, “‘When is the only time Spiro Agnew opens his mouth? To change his socks.’” All three joke variants were told around the Bloomington campus, thanks to joke metadata collection required by the instructors, highlighting the ability of oral literature to modify even over small distances.
1George List, “Archiving,” in Folklore and Folklife: An Introduction, ed. Richard Dorson (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1972), 455-463
2Richard Dorson, “Introduction: Concepts of Folklore and Folklife Studies,” in Folklore and Folklife: An Introduction, ed. Richard Dorson (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1972), 1-7.
4Christie Davies, Jokes and Targets (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2011), 2.
5 Davies, 4.
7Jokes: Political: 71: 61-70 Instructor Adams: Item 71:65. C735 Folklore Institute jokes, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
8Jokes: Political: 71: 51-60 Instructor Adams: Item 71:57. C735 Folklore Institute jokes, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
9Jokes: Political: 71: 11-20 Instructor Adams: Item 71:18. C735 Folklore Institute jokes, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
Last year, colleagues from the Kelley School of Business reached out to the Director of the University Archives, Dina Kellams, with a request. They were interested in collaborating with the University Archives on that year’s Kelley Common Read book, Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime, about South Africa and its system of apartheid. Did the Archives have any documents or other items from IU’s history that touched on these subjects and that could bring the topic closer to students, make it more immediate for them?
This year, the book chosen for the Kelley Common Read is Lauren Markham’s The Far Away Brothers: Two Young Migrants and the Making of an American Life. Markham is a journalist who has written about unaccompanied minors immigrating to the United States from Central America, and the recent increase in the numbers of these young migrants entering the U.S. beginning in about 2012. Her book The Far Away Brothers follows the experiences of twin teenagers from El Salvador, Ernesto and Raúl Flores, and their decision to leave their home and family to journey to the United States. It is an intimate and poignant story that explores the brothers’ decision to leave El Salvador, the dangerous journey each undertakes, and how they fashion new lives for themselves once they reach California. Our colleagues from the Kelley School reached out again, this time with the request, did the Archives have anything about El Salvador?
Dina forwarded the request on to me and a colleague of mine, since we are both archivists working with the Modern Political Papers Collection. Maybe we had something that would be of use to students participating in the Kelley Common Read?
Boy, did I have something – a whole lot of stuff, as a matter of fact! I’m responsible for several collections of congressional papers in the Modern Political Papers Collection, including the Richard G. Lugar Senatorial Papers. Senator Lugar served in the U.S. Senate from 1976 to 2012, which makes him the longest-serving senator from Indiana in the state’s history. For 34 of the 36 years he served in the Senate, he was a member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, and he was Chair of the committee twice, the first time from 1985 to 1987 and the second time from 2003 to 2007. His collection is huge – approximately the equivalent of 1,500 bankers boxes. Coincidentally enough, when I received the message from our Kelley colleagues, I had recently processed several folders in Senator Lugar’s papers related to El Salvador and I had found several memorabilia items, folders, and binders, related to 1988 elections in El Salvador and the 1989 El Salvador presidential inauguration. I had a feeling that there would be a lot of other good stuff in the collection too. I rolled up my sleeves and started digging through spreadsheets and boxes to see what all we had – the best part of an archivist’s job!
So You Say You Want to Put Together an Exhibition? – First Steps
I thought that one good way to support Markham’s book and to bring the subject closer to the students of Kelley might be to mount an exhibition on El Salvador using materials taken from Senator Lugar’s papers. Many of us who work with archives and special collections believe that being able to see, touch, or otherwise interact with “the stuff” (as we often call it) can make far away events, people, and time periods feel closer and more immediate. It’s one thing to read something about Abraham Lincoln and the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation; it’s another thing entirely to see the pen he used to sign it and the original version of the document. Or to read letters that he wrote in which he discusses his thoughts about the state of the nation. For this sense of immediacy to work, though, we need the help of our audience. As an archivist and curator, I try to choose the most visually appealing but also informative items that I can, but I also rely on my viewer to be open to the sense of wonder that these items contain. An exhibition is a two-way, collaborative project between curator and viewer.
As an archivist who works with political papers, one of my main goals is to increase transparency about how the U.S. government works and how decisions are made by the people who make our laws. The best way that I can do that is by making the materials available to as many people as possible; exhibiting them is one way to do that. After all, it’s not often that people get to see Department of Defense publications, handwritten notes taken by congressional staff members, informational memos to Senators on legislative issues, and unclassified State Department telegrams. Since IU had this wealth of materials related to El Salvador, my colleagues and I agreed that a good use of them would be to display them in the exhibition spaces at the IU Archives for the Kelley students and the broader public.
I also had another dilemma when it came to figuring out how to support Markham’s book, namely that bothersome issue of time period. Federal regulations require that congressional committee records remain closed for 20 years. Since most of the items about El Salvador in Senator Lugar’s papers could be considered records of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, I could not display anything dated past the year 2000 (committee records from the 107th Congress, which spans the years 2001-2002, will be open for researcher access on January 1, 2023). But the events that Markham writes about occurred during a much later period, from approximately 2014 to 2017. Richard Lugar left office at the end of 2012. I therefore wouldn’t be able to provide anything directly related to the time period that Markham writes about – even if I did have materials from that time, a lot of them would still have to be closed.
The majority of the materials Senator Lugar had about El Salvador are from the civil war period of the 1980s and early 1990s. However, when I was reading Markham’s book, it was fairly obvious to me that these earlier materials would still work really well as background information. Even though Markham focuses on events that happened in the 2010s, the civil war still looms large in The Far Away Brothers. For instance, the description on the back of the book frames the narrative of the Flores brothers in this context: “Growing up in rural El Salvador in the wake of the civil war, identical twins Ernesto and Raúl Flores always had a fascination with the United States, a distant land of fantasy and opportunity…” Markham herself notes the persistence of the civil war at the beginning of the book, in her Author’s Note: “But something in their [the Flores twins] story illustrates, roundly and heartbreakingly, the wounds of war, the spirit of a new generation of immigrants, and the impact of migration on the United States as well as on the tiny, time-battered country of El Salvador.”
It was the “wounds of war” that Markham mentions that really made an impression on me: the effect of the civil war on the people of El Salvador, even on young people born in its shadow. There were other statements that Markham made that stayed with me, particularly some points she made in her Afterword about U.S. involvement and responsibility. Writing about the Trump administration’s demands for a border wall and the rhetoric calling for keeping immigrants out of the U.S., Markham states,
“But exclusionist policy ignores the legacy of U.S. responsibility for the Central American catastrophe. A war is raging to our south, though we seem to refuse to call it one, and American policy fueled the wars that preceded it. We supplied guns to and trained mercenaries and death squads who ended up perpetrating scorched-earth massacres like the one in El Mozote [of December 1981], where bodies, as I chronicle in this book, are still being exhumed and identified today, over two decades later.”
Another statement of hers resonated with me and stayed with me: “We have played a major part in creating the problem of what has become of Central America, and we must play a major part in solving it.”
So, the first themes that guided the selection of materials for the exhibition were the historical background of the civil war period, and a discussion of U.S. foreign policy and involvement in that civil war. The issue of U.S. immigration policy is also at the forefront of the book, so that theme was an obvious choice. The last theme that would play an important part in the exhibition was suggested by both the materials themselves and colleagues from the Kelley School: the importance of elections and the democratic process.
Civil War and U.S. Involvement
Lauren Markham begins The Far Away Brothers by examining the intersection of the public and the private and the ways that individuals try to maintain their normal course of life even in the midst of the turmoil of major historical events. In Chapter 1, she narrates the chronology of the Flores family against the background of El Salvador’s civil war: “They [Wilber and Esperanza, the twins’ parents] got married in the midst of the country’s civil war, in 1985, and when Esperanza gave birth to her first baby, Ricardo, two years later, the war still raged.” Their second son, Wilber Jr., who would later be the first of the family to make the journey to immigrate to the U.S., was born in 1988, “as the violence heated toward its final boil.” Esperanza became pregnant a third time when the negotiations for peace began, and again the year the peace accords were signed (1992). Both of those babies, however, died. The twins’ older sister, Maricela, who figures prominently in the book, was born in 1994, the year that “El Salvador held its first free and fair peacetime elections. The conservative ARENA party won, but the war was over. After so many years of conflict, it was a time of rebuilding.” In that year of rebuilding, Maricela survived. The history of the Flores family, its marriages, births, and deaths, played out against a backdrop of national events but also against a backdrop of conflict and terror.
It was when I started looking through the materials in the Lugar collection that I really began to understand the conflict and fear that underlay this period for the Flores family. At an open house for the exhibition held on September 15, 2022, I had a conversation with someone who asked me a very thoughtful and intelligent question, “When you were preparing this exhibition, did you ever have to stop and take a step back from it?” Without hesitating, I answered, “Yes, yes, I did. Quite often, actually.” In her book, Markham mentions “the mutilated bodies” that appeared in the city and countryside during the civil war. When I was preparing for the exhibition, I often came across contemporary newspaper clippings with explicit, detailed descriptions of these activities and these mutilated bodies. I read accounts of some of the human rights abuses carried out by the rightwing death squads and their arrests, torture, and murder of anyone they thought might possibly be a leftwing insurgent sympathizer. In preparing an exhibition case devoted to the civil war, I had wanted to include a copy of the newsletter of a human rights organization. However, the cover story featured a report on the torture of political prisoners by state security forces with a graphic account of the ways they were tortured, and so I decided to replace it with a different copy. But even the copy that I chose still conveys the violence and instability of the period. The civil war in El Salvador started on October 15, 1979. By January 1989, about 1,000,000 Salvadorans had become refugees and 600,000 had been displaced from their homes. The United Nations estimated that by the time the civil war ended in 1992, over 75,000 people had been killed and approximately 8,000 had been “disappeared.”
While I was preparing this exhibition, I did often have to take a step back from my research because the content was sometimes violent, graphic, and disturbing. But it was also good, because as I looked through the items, I often thought of them in relation to Wilber, Esperanza, Ernesto, and Raúl Flores and their fears. As Markham points out, few people really want to leave their homes. They do so because it’s necessary for survival. Ernesto and Raúl did so in the 2010s in order to escape gang violence, and over 1,000,000 Salvadorans did so in the 1980s to escape another kind of violence and war.
But the young man who asked the question had another one in mind as well, which he asked next, “Did you ever have to step back because you disagreed with the opinions you saw expressed in the documents?” Again, yes. Yes, I did. I had to take a step back when I came across a typescript dated May 8, 1984, entitled “Statement of Senator Jesse Helms of North Carolina: The Election Results in El Salvador.” In this statement, Senator Helms (R-NC) is responding to the 1984 election of President José Napoleón Duarte, who is viewed by many as the first democratically elected president of El Salvador in over 50 years. Duarte was a member of the Christian Democrat Party (the Partido Demócrata Cristiano, or PDC), which many describe as being center-left, or even centrist. Helms, however, describes him as “the socialist nominee” and claims that “the State Department and the CIA bought the election for Duarte.” At the same time, Helms dismisses all claims of wrongdoing that had been attributed to Duarte’s opponent, Roberto D’Aubuisson, the founder of the rightwing ARENA Party. D’Aubuisson had been in military intelligence in El Salvador and had often been linked to the extremist death squads. Helms denies any connection between D’Aubuisson and the death squads, based on little to no evidence. His opinions of both Duarte and D’Aubuisson contradicted everything else I have read in Senator Lugar’s papers, in books, and in articles. I had to take a step back in frustration, but at the same time, it did remind me of the variety of perspectives and interpretations possible.
I also had to take a step back with regard to President Reagan’s Cold War policy of eradicating Communism at any cost – literally. According to reports by the U.S. Department of Defense and the Department of State, from 1983 to 1985, the U.S. sent $3.14 billion in aid to Central America, 74% of which was economic aid, 26% of which was military aid. But 26% of $3.14 billion is still $816.4 million. More precise amounts per year are available, but if we consider the period of 1983 to 1985 as a three-year period (which is generous), we’re looking at a total of more than $272.13 million per year in military aid. Military aid that went to the Salvadoran government to fight leftwing guerrilla insurgents on the argument that they embraced Marxist-Leninist ideology, but it seems like it was often used by the government security forces and the army against rural farmers if they were ever suspected of, or even accused of, being sympathizers.
However, regardless of what I thought about the issue, I wanted the exhibition to present both sides: both for and against. I didn’t want to tell my story, I wanted to tell the fullest story of the civil war in El Salvador that I could. So I included both correspondence from the Salvadoran Ambassador to the U.S. and the President of El Salvador thanking Senator Lugar for supporting military aid; I included a speech by Senator Lugar emphasizing the need for continued military aid; and I also included correspondence from humanitarian aid organizations asking members of Congress to stop sending military aid, which was just prolonging the conflict. I also put on display some things that I considered to be a real archival treasure: a letter from the Central American Refugee Center dated March 26, 1990, asking Congress to end military aid to El Salvador, with three preprinted cards from Senator Lugar’s constituents, one from Elkhart, Indiana, and the other two from Bloomington. The card from Elkhart states that, rather than Congress sending a total worth $1.4 million each day to the Salvadoran government, they would rather see this money spent on “Affordable housing in U.S., better public education, rebuilding Nat[ional] infrastructure, research on environmentally sound energy sources and public transportation, & disbanding of Contras & helping war-torn Nicaragua to recover from years of economic devastation.”
If I thought that there were a variety of opinions and perspectives on U.S. military aid to El Salvador in the civil war period, it was nothing compared to the congressional debates on immigration policy! In 1996, the U.S. Congress engaged in extended debate over immigration reform, and the amount of materials in Senator Lugar’s legislative file is bewildering. However, sorting through the memos and newsletters, the legislative notices, the “Dear Colleague” letters, the clippings, the reports, and the recommendations from legislative assistants on how to vote on a particular amendment made me really appreciate the complexity of major legislation and of immigration policy in particular. It also made me realize how circular some of our discussions about the issue have been over the years. Much of the discussion in 1996 seemed to revolve around two different bills, one dedicated to reforming “illegal” immigration and the other to reforming “legal” immigration policy. A U.S. Senate Republican Policy Committee Legislative Notice dated April 11, 1996, for the bill S. 1664: Immigration Control and Financial Responsibility Act of 1996 (the bill about “illegal” immigration, as it was referred to in the documents), alerts Republican Senators that, “Numerous controversial amendments are expected.” Over 200 amendments were proposed to the bill. Amendments addressed provisions in the bill such as the requirement that the Attorney General construct a three-tier fence at the border in San Diego – that sounds familiar! An amendment to modify the language and leave the issue up to the discretion of local agencies, rather than the responsibility of the Attorney General, which would put it at the federal level, was accepted. Other amendments tried to propose that English be instituted as the official language of the United States, and that federal benefits, such as welfare, Medicaid, school lunch programs, and access to Food Banks and Soup Kitchens be denied to undocumented children. Perhaps the most controversial amendment was called the “Gallegly amendment,” after its sponsor, Representative Elton Gallegly (R-CA), which would have allowed states to deny public school education to children of undocumented immigrants. Senator Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) wrote a letter to the Senate Majority Leader and the Speaker of the House of Representatives, in which she stated, “The Gallegly Amendment, denying public education to children of illegal immigrants, is exactly the kind of poison pill that will doom this legislation.”
Much of the discussion around S. 1665 – The Legal Immigration Act of 1996 centered on the receipt of federal benefits being tied to a sponsor’s income level and also on “chain migration,” whereby immigrants to the U.S. are allowed to sponsor their close family members and apply for immigrant visas for them. If it had been passed, S. 1665 would have dropped the yearly number of available visas for close relatives from 480,000 to 425,000. Senators Mike DeWine (R-OH) and Spencer Abraham (R-MI) issued a series of “Dear Colleague” letters entitled “The Facts on Immigration” to try and demonstrate to their Senate colleagues that the issue of chain migration was actually a non-issue.
I had mentioned before that both the materials themselves and my discussion with my colleagues from Kelley suggested that one theme for the exhibition should be elections. I had just found several exciting folders related to Senator Lugar’s participation as one of the co-chairs of the official U.S. observer delegation to the 1988 El Salvador legislative and municipal elections. The folders contained election posters, memorabilia, booklets from the U.S. State Department with guides to the El Salvador elections, photographs of Senator Lugar as an election observer, notebooks, and a wealth of other items! At the same time, my colleague from Kelley said that one of her plans for a parallel programming event was a voting registration drive to coincide with our midterm elections coming up this November.
The Salvadoran government had invited international election observers to attend the 1988 legislative and municipal elections, and President Ronald Reagan had asked Senator Lugar and Representative John Murtha (D-PA) to be co-chairs of the official U.S. delegation. When Senator Lugar arrived in San Salvador the night before the March 20, 1988 elections, there were explosions in the streets, some areas of the city had no running water, and other areas had no electricity due to attempts by insurgents to sabotage the elections. The FMLN, the insurgent guerrilla group, had voiced its opposition to the elections, calling them a farce and nothing more than political theater. They had threatened to disrupt the election process, and indeed the election observer group was unable to travel to one area of El Salvador that was under the control of the insurgents. They did, however, visit the other thirteen areas (“departments”) and 30 cities, 45 polling places, and over 1,000 voting tables. The FMLN had also managed to disrupt the public transit service, so many people had to walk to the polls.
But walk to the polls they did. Senator Lugar’s Legislative Assistant for Foreign Policy, Dr. Andrew Semmel, kept a notebook in which he recorded his observations. In all, he took notes about the voting conditions in six or seven different polling places in different areas of the country. I noticed that the first page describes things as running smoothly, with very short wait times for voters, who felt that the process was smooth and satisfying. As the day wore on, however, Semmel’s notes become longer and somewhat more hectic. He starts to record longer and longer wait times to vote – voters waiting in line for first one hour, then one and half hours, then two hours. Sometimes the lines were as long as 150 or 200 people waiting to vote. He notes incredulously of the polling place in La Libertad that they “Let a voter carry a machete into [the] voting area!” At the end of the day, though, he felt assured that they had witnessed democracy in action, and he notes that what he observed was the “Frontlines in the defense of democracy. Take the side of demo[cracy], freedom, human rights, right to vote.”
In spite of the threats of violence, voter turnout for the election was approximately 70% of the voting public. In his statement after the elections, Senator Lugar commented, “The American people should emulate the Salvadoran people when it comes to participating in the democratic process. The high voter turnout, under extremely stressful circumstances, and at considerable personal risk to many, was very inspiring to witness.”
It also turned out to be a peaceful transfer of power – the Christian Democratic Party (PDC) of President Duarte lost its slim majority in the legislative assembly to the ARENA Party, the conservative party that had previously been associated with the death squads. The following year, in March 1989, Alberto Cristiani of the ARENA Party won the Presidential election. The transfer of power from a President of one party to a President of a different party was the first peaceful transfer of power from one democratically elected president to another that El Salvador had experienced in its history, as noted by Senator Lugar and others. To me, this transfer seemed to be exemplified by another archival discovery: two invitations, first, for a reception held at the presidential residence on May 31, 1989, hosted by outgoing President Duarte, and then for a reception held at the Hotel El Salvador, Sheraton on June 10, 1989, hosted by newly inaugurated President Cristiani. I exhibited reproductions of them in one of the hallway cases side by side, in an attempt to emphasize their unity.
Lately in the U.S. we have had a significant and sustained conversation about our democracy and its survival. We’ve also had extended news coverage about elections, election results, and election denial. I therefore couldn’t help but think of our own contemporary situation as I sorted through materials related to past elections in El Salvador. The peace treaty to end the civil war in El Salvador was signed on January 16, 1992, and the ceasefire went into place on February 1, 1992. The Salvadoran Ambassador to the U.S. Miguel A. Salaverría sent a letter to Senator Lugar dated December 28, 1992, about the signing of the peace accords. Several portions of his letter affected me when I read it, but one in particular stood out: “Having worked so hard, and struggled so long in the cause of peace, we can have no illusions about the future; the maintenance of peace and democracy require vigilance, humility, and hard work. Nonetheless, we take pride in what we have achieved and hope that the success of the peace process in El Salvador will inspire other nations to follow a similar path, turning their backs on civil strife, hate, and the indecency of […] conflict.”
The exhibition “Far Away, So Close: Indiana and El Salvador, Elections and Immigration Policy” will run through December 16, 2022. It is located both inside the office of the University Archives in Wells Library, Room E460, and inside all six exhibition cases in the hallway outside the Archives Office.
The following is a guest post from Joshua Koepke (MA Candidate in Folklore and Ethnomusicology/MLS Candidate in the Luddy School of Informatics)as part of the spring course ILS-Z604/FOLK-F804 Folklore Archives in the Digital Age.
When discussing archival project options for a folklore class, my ears immediately perked up at the mention of a folklore joke collection here at Indiana University Bloomington. Not knowing much about the holdings besides being primarily from the late 1960s and early 1970s, my inner historian was excited at the prospect of period-specific jabs at Richard Nixon and “hippie” counterculture. When going through the collection, I encountered these political jokes, even plenty of one-liners concerning Spiro Agnew, which I’ll ponder upon in an upcoming entry. Not long into searching the extensive amassment of ethnic jokes and their corresponding documentation in this collection, my soul sank with the depressing reality of underlying prejudice influencing the deep stack of Polish American and African American jokes. My, often troubling time, working with this collection inspired an exploration on why this content is worthy of preservation and what archivists, folklorists, and historians can do to manage interactions with offensive collections.
Jokes reflect the social environments at the time of their creation, finding humor in critiques of events and social movements. The 1960s and 1970s saw the “… rise in the consciousness and assertion of ethnicity” with Polish and Black cultures in America.1 Rising racial tensions of this period were represented in jokes of the ethnic and racial variety as a way to reassert subordinate status.2 The ethnic jokes in the IU Folklore Institute Jokes collection provingno exception. The frequent use of blatantly derogatory language, among which was more than a fair share of poorly spelled variants, to enforce a hierarchy of superiority based on the lightness of skin were routinely thinly veiled as jokes. These need not be repeated here. Even more disheartening were interviews conducted by the students of the informants who told the jokes. In these, some joke tellers casually confessed their prejudices for minorities, like this African American joke teller, “Well, to be truthful, I don’t like them [in reference to African Americans]. It seems like they’re trying to interfere with everything…”,3 or another who set out to change the language of the African American joke they told to a more intolerant and explicit term, to which the folklore student eloquently surmised, “This, in itself, tells a great deal [for] the problems in society.”4 More bleak were the occasional students who agreed with racist thoughts put forward by the informants without critical analysis, like this student who interviewed their prejudicial friend:
I must say that I agree with [name of informant redacted] in every psychological and sociological function of the items, although I am sure that several others would be violently opposed to what has been stated previously. I agree with [name of informant redacted] Mainly [sic] because we are very close friends and we share many interests and opinions. Therefore, I must conclude by saying that I couldn’t have said it better myself!!5
These issues and the often explicit language and racist imagery make this collection problematic to read, let alone curate. While it may be repulsive to modern users, the collection possesses value in documenting the racial and ethnic views of a segment of students at a pivotal time in civil rights history for America. Dr. Julia Rose coined the term “difficult histories” for historic materials with content of oppression and trauma which can make materials hard to digest for modern audiences. References to materials must be delicately interwoven to historic documentation nonetheless in order to confront revisionists and denialists and to hopefully encourage further work towards justice.6
For historians, curators, and archivists, balancing access and description for difficult histories is problematic, and sparks different solutions depending on the archive. When facing the use of derogatory language and explicit racial content, the Dúchas team at the Irish National Folklore Collection decided to digitize materials but to leave blank any derogatory language from transcription practices, to allow for the restriction of entire pages, and to include a statement on the possible encountering of sensitive and offensive materials. Like Dúchas, Indiana University has a Harmful Language Statement located in the footer of their newly designed search portal. The IU Libraries also utilizes direct community feedback to report potential offensive content,7 like Dúchas, since the collections are extensive and archivists unfortunately cannot review everything. Here at IU, the University Archives and other archival units encourage the reporting of problems to the Harmful Language Report Form. Another tool at the disposal of professionals is the incorporation of content warnings on collections, so researchers know what to expect before opening boxes.
While maintaining the original order of records (ie the organization, sequence, and description established by the creator) is a core tenant of the archives profession as it provides evidence of how records where used, ultimately, we decided to replace the outdated and harmful original “Negro” and “Polack” folder titles with the current, more appropriate terms “African American” and “Polish.” We reflected these folder heading changes in the finding aid as well. In addition to the concerns about offense that Joshua explained, updating terms also addressed the collection’s findability online–now, researchers don’t have to know to use outdated search terms to find these files. A warning about the content was also included in the Scope and Content Note of the collection.
As we move forward and develop more robust workflows for reparative description, we aim to be as transparent as possible (with each other at the Archives and with the public) about the changes we make. This includes internally tracking problematic finding aids, explaining curatorial decisions in finding aid notes, and receiving feedback through the Harmful Language Report Form.
If you have questions or concerns about this collection, harmful language, or reparative description in archives, please contact an archivist today!
1 Christie Davies, Jokes and Targets (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2011), 2.
3Jokes: Ethnic: Negro: 70: 11-20 Instructor: Milspaw: Item 70:15, C735 Folklore Institute jokes, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
4Jokes: Ethnic: Negro: 70: 61-70 Instructors: Gutowski, Danielson: Item 70:66, C735 Folklore Institute jokes,, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
5Jokes: Ethnic: Negro: 70: 11-20 Instructor: Milspaw: Item 70:11, C735 Folklore Institute jokes, Indiana University Archives, Bloomington.
6Julia Rose, Interpreting Difficult History at Museums and Historic Sites (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2016), 24-29.
7“Copyright, digital preservation, sensitive material and contact,” Dúchas, https://www.duchas.ie/en/info/contact; Gearóid Ó Cleircín, Conchur Mag Eacháin, Anna Bale, “Managing the Digitization and Online Publication of Sensitive Heritage Material in the Dúchas Project,” New Review of Information Networking 20, (2015): 194-199, doi 10.1080/13614576.2015.1112613.
The Indiana University Archives had the honor of assisting Lori Korngiebel and Don Hahn in their quest for archival materials on IU alumnus, Howard Ashman, for their documentary Howard. Director of Howard, Hahn is also a film producer who has produced some of Disney’s most beloved animated films, such as Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King. Korngiebel, producer of Howard, has worked on several Disney films and served as Associate Producer for Maleficent and the soon-to-be-released Cruella.
We are so pleased to share that Lori and Don were kind enough to answer a few questions about their research process as they worked on Howard!
Can you tell me about your archival research process? What repositories did you visit?
We were fortunate because Howard’s estate had gifted his archives to the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. Don and I started our journey there and spent days excitedly going through archival boxes, finding hidden treasures from Howard’s life (such as his handwritten notes during the “Little Shop” casting process and an audio recording of Howard talking to the “Little Mermaid” directors, Ron Clements and John Musker).
After we left the LOC, Don and I traveled to NYC were we interviewed Howard’s friends and family, who were also so generous to share photos and videos with us. So, between the LOC and our F&F interviews, we went back to California with a strong foundation to begin building the documentary.
From there, as we began editing the film, Don and I would do research online, reaching out to the people and places that Howard may have had contact with during his life and career. The Indiana University Archives was one of the places we reached out to when we happened upon Kristin Leaman’s Howard Ashman blog post during our online research.
What are some of your exciting archival finds for this documentary?
We knew that Howard had done interviews at THE LITTLE MERMAID junket in Walt Disney World but after searching high and low we were not able to find any of them. Tragically, the 80s are a black hole of lost video tape archives and we had all but given up. Then, one day Don Hahn received a phone call at the office from a colleague saying they had found an audio cassette from the MERMAID junket that they believed had Howard interviews on it. Well, after literally YEARS of searching, we jumped on it and were over the moon when we heard Howard and Alan (Menken) answering questions. It may not have been video but that audio was like GOLD to us!
Did you find any archival materials that significantly impacted the film in a way you were not expecting?
We were told that Howard had learned about his HIV diagnosis on the same day that he spoke at the 92nd Street Y in New York City. We discovered that the Y did not video tape lectures back then but they did record audio and lucky for us they were able to find that audio. With this discovery we knew we would have to find a way to show the significance of this lecture. No one there knew what Howard and his partner Bill had just been told and it is gut wrenching to listen to the interview with the understanding that he is keeping it together, answering questions and making people laugh all while grappling with this horrible news.
What is the most exciting thing you discovered in the Indiana University Archives?
One of our most exciting archival finds came from the IU Archives! We were told there could be a local interview with Howard when he came to the University to see their production of LITTLE SHOP in 1987. When we received the footage we were THRILLED. Our goal was always to have Howard tell his story as much as possible in the film and there he was in an interview that probably hadn’t been seen in over 30 years. It was amazing!
Why was doing archival research and including archival materials in the documentary so important to you?
This is the story of an amazing man, who during his short time on earth, changed the lives of millions (and continues to do so) through his lyrics and songs. In order to do Howard justice, we needed to ensure that we uncovered every lyric, photo, interview and song so the audience could know the man who created the songs we already love and by doing so, fall in love with him, too.
Is there anything that you want people to know about the documentary?
I just feel so lucky to have worked on the film. Like our audience, I never met Howard in person, I only knew him from his work. But, because of the generosity of Don, Sarah (Howard’s sister), Bill (Howard’s partner) and countless other friends and family who donated their time, love and memories to the film… I feel like I do know Howard now and I am blessed to consider him a friend.
Devoted, driven, and dauntless. These adjectives describe Mary Elizabeth Campbell’s persona perfectly. She devoted much of her life to make an influential impact on Indiana University. Mary’s driven personality propelled her to publish several original works which includes a popular favorite: Scandal Has Two Faces. Finally, Mary’s dauntless acts throughout her life include serving in World War II, confronting problems that faced professional and educated women, and teaching the first comparative literature course offered at Indiana University.
Although Cambridge, Ohio was Mary’s birthplace, she had a connection with Bloomington early on in her life. When she was around thirteen years, Indiana University offered her father a position as a professor. As a result, her whole family moved to Bloomington. Just three years later, her father became a professor at Harvard. Nonetheless, IU remained a short-lived, yet inspiring experience and held a special place in Mary’s heart. In fact, after finishing school from Cambridge Latin School and Radcliffe, Mary became an English instructor at IU in 1927 and rose through the ranks, retiring as Professor Emeritus in 1973. Talk about devotion! Throughout her time as a faculty member, Mary took the time to advance her education at Yale, where she gained her PhD in the year 1938. As seen in the clipping from The Kokomo Tribune, Mary along with other notable IU faculty members discussed an English literature series called British Men of Letters. Not only did Mary devote her time as an English professor at IU Bloomington, but she also participated in spreading her knowledge to a broader audience.
Mary made the most use of her time as a professor at Indiana. She always had a passion for writing and took it upon herself to publish something. In the year 1938, the same year she gained her PhD, Mary published her first book named Defoe’s First Poem. This publication focuses on Daniel Defoe, a writer, journalist, pamphleteer, and even spy who was seen as an early and passionate proponent of the English novel. Defoe must have been an inspiration for Mary as they share a passion for English literature and novels, and ultimately helped drive Mary to publish her own works. Actually, in 1943, she published yet another book called Scandal Has Two Faces, which sparked more popularity. This murder mystery came out before academic novels were considered popular, so it intrigued critics and scholars. Set in academia, this novel excited all ages with its clever humor and plot. The fictious story takes place on a college campus, making it even more enticing for students. It allowed them to engage and feel a part of the story. Even in the Hoosier Accent, as seen in the clipping, Mary receives much praise on her novel. This hopefulness ande ncouragement the article displays further fuels Mary’s drive for writing. There was a lot of positive feedback on the novel, and for some time Mary seriously considered writing a sequel to the mystery, but ultimately could not because of unplanned yet critical events. This goes to show how great of an impact Mary made on English literature at Indiana, mainly because of her driven personality.
Shortly after the publication of her mystery novel Scandal Has Two Faces, Mary took a year’s leave for the unplanned, yet critical event mentioned earlier. It was to serve and help in World War II. Mary specifically went to serve in Italy. There, she worked with the Overseas Hospital Service of the American Red Cross. In all of the hospital service units located in Italy, the nurses and medical teams worked long hours and their time and effort was very much appreciated. One article stated that many units had “periods when the patient load was heavy” (Merrick 40). Mary’s dauntless acts as a nurse and the whole experience impacted her views and thoughts of women, but specifically the importance of their duties. Thus, after returning to the United States in 1945 and Indiana University for the spring semester, she started to engage in the Indiana University Bulletin called “What Makes an Educated Woman.” As an editor, Mary tackled and addressed problems facing professional woman. What makes this so inspiring and daunting, is the fact that these issues were not relevant yet. Amidst all these events, when Mary was at Indiana University, she taught comparative literature, which was actually the first comparative literature course ever taught at IU. Because “literature was alive and exciting” for her and “she was able to communicate its vitality to her classes,” Mary had an innovative style of teaching (IU Bloomington Faculty Council). All of these daunting acts contribute to the moving life-story of Mary Campbell.
Mary Elizabeth Campbell passed away on February 21, 1985 at the Meadowood Retirement Community in Bloomington, Indiana, as seen on her death certificate. Mary retired as an IU professor after almost fifty years of teaching in 1973. No surprise when she received emeritus status by the university at that time. She never married, but instead lived an unselfish, courageous, and admirable life. Not only did she inspire and impact her own students, but also faculty across IU and the audience who read her publications. This can be seen not only through her connection to IU from an early age, but also her role as a professor, a writer, and a nurse. Mary Campbell’s devoted, driven, and dauntless personality will continue to live on and influence others not only at Indiana University, but across the United States.
“Archives Photograph Collection of Mary E. Campbell.” Indiana University Bloomington, webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/archivesphotos/results/item.do?itemId=P0067323.
“Indiana Death Certificate for Mary Campbell.” Ancestry.com, www.ancestrylibrary.com/imageviewer/collections/60716/images/44494_351913-00535?treeid=&personid=&hintid=&queryId=88f0b9ea827548f57ffb54872139d3db&usePUB=true&_phsrc=kXW1&_phstart=successSource&usePUBJs=true&pId=2793800.
“The Indianapolis Star from Indianapolis, Indiana on October 27, 1943 · Page 12.” Newspapers.com, The Indianapolis Star, www.newspapers.com/newspage/104924129/.
IU Bloomington Faculty Council. “Memorial Resolution Professor Emeritus Mary Elizabeth Campbell.” Bloomington Faculty Council Minutes, 24 Sept. 1985, webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/bfc/view?docId=B06-1986.
“The Kokomo Tribune 6 Mar 1957, Page 11.” Newspapers.com, The Kokomo Tribune, www.newspapers.com/image/2451840/?image=2451840.
Merrick, Ben A. “The 56th Evacuation Hospital (Baylor Unit) Overseas in World War II.”
Taylor & Francis, 28 Jan. 2018, www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/08998280.1992.11929794.