Earlier this year, UITS announced that Indiana University will retire Box cloud storage in March of 2021. If you use the storage service, the files you keep will be migrated to a new system. But what about those files you no longer need? Prior to dumping any files in the trash, the University Archives encourages you to consider transferring these files to your campus archives.
Do the files document a decision or action taken by your unit? Do you have photos or promotional items from a program or an event? Capturing these files now can help preserve the history of IU! Please reach out to email@example.com to get started. You’ll be connected with an archivist to discuss the files you have, what you no longer need, and what may be appropriate to transfer.
To learn more about the materials typically sent to the University Archives in Bloomington, see our collection policy. For general guidance on university-wide records management or the archival practices on other IU campuses, check out the information on this site!
Over the past (very turbulent) month, I’ve been working on describing digitized media from Collection C388, the Robert Byrnes papers. I started my work on this collection the week before spring break, and for that reason my conception of the collection is overshadowed by the circumstances around my work on it. However, the transition to remote work over the past few weeks has highlighted one part of this collection in particular; a film series Byrnes produced in 1959 on the history of Russia. It stood out to me because of its intended use, which was as a correspondence course. I found myself in the interesting position of transitioning to remote learning while working on an approach which was used 60 years ago.
In some ways the contrast is pretty stark; Byrnes’s approach and our own are on opposite ends of a technological and educational revolution. The ability to speak with my classmates despite sometimes immense physical distance is extraordinarily powerful. In some ways, I imagine that the correspondence course of 1959 faced some of the same challenges as we do today. The lecture and the classroom are institutions with centuries of tradition. Physical, shared learning spaces were as or more important back then as they are now. The same can be said of student-professor interaction. There are few things which are valued more in the pedagogical process.
That said, there are some successes and failures with the Byrnes course which I think we can apply to our own attempts at remote learning.
One thing that Byrnes really succeeds at is his presentation of his material. As a lecturer and presenter, Byrnes is smooth and articulate on camera. He outlines his subject in clear terms and speaks on his subject matter with a formal yet conversational style. I think this sort of clear and direct presentation style is really important for remote learning; without the physical cues of a classroom and the pressure to reduce distraction during class, it is important to simplify and clarify a message for students.
Something else I thought was really important to the success of Byrnes’s lectures is that they don’t rely on graphics. This is something that I think we especially, as students and professors who rely on PowerPoint, could learn from the presentation of the past. We use presentation slides for a reason, but it’s important to consider their role in a classroom setting. Students look at the professor when they’re presenting information, so retaining that cue also helps retain attention. By using graphics sparingly and intentionally, they can serve their intended function; as a teaching aid, instead of as a teaching crutch.
One downfall of Byrnes’s lectures is that they lack student interactivity. This is a genuine success of our modern educational tools. The ability for students and professors to talk is one of the most valuable aspects of a classroom environment, so its remote replication should be seen as a huge advantage.
While Byrnes’s lectures demonstrate clear understanding of the topic, the ability to engage his knowledge and ask interesting questions would elevate the experience greatly. Since this is one of the advantages we retain with an online format, it is something we should turn to often in our lectures. In my few weeks of online instruction, I have yet to see student questions engaged with. I see this as a lack of integration with the system on Zoom; the tools for question asking/answering are there, but professors have to make use of them. Real integration of the tools we have for online teaching would improve the experience greatly. For example, Zoom includes a chat bar in its client; professors could use this feature to get information and field questions from students, while allowing moderation to ensure that there isn’t chaos in the audio channel. It will be interesting to see how teaching styles adapt to the tools available online; to succeed in this environment, a different skillset and teaching style is necessary, and I’m interested to see how learning changes over time as a result of this abrupt change to online courses.
One last downfall of Byrnes’s lectures is their bias. In many ways the lectures are a product of their time. An American series on Russian history, in 1959, is doomed to bias as a result of the political climate of the time. While we are more aware of this issue today, it is just as important (or more so) to examine our discussions and beliefs for bias in our time.
Byrnes had a lot going on in the course of his life. These video lectures form an early part of his work, but his examination of Russian history, and the events of his time, never stopped. He was still thinking, writing, and speaking on Russia and Eastern Europe through the collapse of the Soviet Union. He lived through some of the most serious international crises of the 20th century, and indeed of modern history. To study an area of the world which was subject to so much bias, so much uncertainty, and so much speculation, must have been uniquely challenging. I hope that we can apply some of Byrnes’s perseverance in the difficult times that we’re living through, and continue to be the best students, researchers, and professors we can, no matter the circumstances.
Charlie Nelms is an unparalleled force in higher education. From his early days as a graduate student at Indiana University to his executive leadership roles at IU and beyond, Nelms has deeply affected the landscape of higher education in the United States. I had the absolute pleasure of processing the Charlie Nelms papers, 1967-2016 (Collection C701) at the University Archives. This collection of writings, correspondence, reports, publications, audiovisual recordings, and ephemera documents Nelms’ life as a great leader, activist, orator, and educator. The potential uses of this collection are expansive. Anyone interested in diversity and race in higher education, university administration, philanthropy, public speaking, community outreach, mentorship, or memoir writing should definitely make use of this collection.
Charlie Nelms was born in Crawfordsville, Arkansas (in the Arkansas Delta) in 1946. Nelms was one of eleven children born to subsistence farmers and community organizers. Throughout his career and in his publications today, Nelms has reflected on growing up in the Arkansas Delta during the Jim Crow era. Many of these reflections appear in the Charlie Nelms papers, especially in the “Speeches” series (my favorite part of the collection). These anecdotes provide a powerful context to understand just how important his leadership at IU has been. Nelms shared a couple such anecdotes at the Black History Month Closing Reception at IU in 2005:
“Growing up in the Delta Region of Arkansas at a time when African Americans weren’t as fully integrated into society as they are today, Negro History Week took on special significance for my rural classmates and me. Back then you seldom saw a black face on television. In fact, very few black people even owned a television set. Popular programs included Amos and Andy, the Friday night boxing match, church sponsored box suppers and Sunday worship. And yes, there was the mourner’s bench, getting religion and being baptized in the local creek. As for me, I got religion and was baptized in a local lake known as Buck Lake. As painful as our history is, including everything from the middle passage to slavery, emancipation, segregation, desegregation, and integration, it is a history that we dare not forget lest we repeat it.”
In a 2004 speech for the Black Alumni Weekend at University of Kansas, Nelms detailed:
“School was some place you went after the cotton crop was harvested;
Decided I wanted to make the world a better place rather than wasting my energy on being angry;
Although my parents were barely literate, they had an abiding faith in education; Mama and Papa told us to get a good education because no one could take it away from you;
I know from experience that education is the engine of opportunity. The research is clear, unless you are born rich, education is the best vehicle for improving the quality of life for individuals, communities, and nations.”
These are important points to understand Nelms’ narrative: he has long understood education as the core of a just, democratic society. The biographical note on his personal website, www.charlienelms.com, states it succinctly:
“While poverty and discrimination shaped Charlie as he sought to escape their grip, he has never felt the need to escape his responsibility for eradicating their pernicious effects. Charlie deeply believes that equity and excellence are core principles of democracy, and both are achievable.”
For his undergraduate degree, Nelms stayed close to home and attended University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff. After he received his B.S. in chemistry and agronomy there in 1968, he came to IU for his graduate work. He received an M.S. in higher education and student affairs in 1971 and an Ed.D. in higher education administration in 1977. The “Personal” series of the collection contains some materials from his graduate school days, such as newspapers and articles he used for research.
Like so many in academia, Charlie Nelms worked for many different universities throughout his career. After graduate school, Nelms worked at IU Northwest as a Professor of Education and Associate Dean for Academic Affairs from 1978-1984. The “Other Institutions” series of the collection includes teaching files, reports, and tenure dossier materials from his time at IU Northwest. The series also documents his next job as Vice President for Student Services at Sinclair Community College in Dayton, Ohio. In 1987, Nelms was hired as Chancellor and Professor of Education at IU East (in Richmond, Indiana). The Indiana University East series documents his time there from 1987-1994. The series provides a window into IU East at the time, including a campus dialogue on race in America, efforts to increase black student enrollment, and general strategic planning efforts. The series also contains materials (including a lovely photo album) from Nelms’ cultural ambassador trip to a Japanese primary school in 1991.
In 1994 Nelms left Indiana entirely to become Chancellor and Professor of Education at University of Michigan-Flint, a position he served in until 1998. His time in Flint is documented in the “Speeches” series through transcripts and notes from speeches he gave at area community organizations—including the Urban League of Flint, the Flint Neighborhood Coalition, the Flint Public Library, Flint Community Schools, and Mott Community College.
In 1998, Nelms became a Hoosier again and began serving as Vice President for Institutional Development and Student Affairs at IU Bloomington (he served in this role until 2007). During his service here, Nelms led a team of university administrators from across the country to design and implement 20/20: A Vision for Achieving Equity and Excellence at IU-Bloomington. 20/20 implemented a host of recommendations made by Nelms’ team on how IU could ensure the campus actively promoted a racially and ethnically diverse student, faculty, and administrative body. Nelms embodied the goals of this plan throughout his leadership on Bloomington’s campus, particularly through collaborative efforts to fund diversity initiatives. He worked with Purdue University to secure a $3 million National Science Foundation grant to increase minority enrollment in STEM fields; helped secure $26 million in funding to construct and dedicate the Neal-Marshall Black Culture Center; and launched the $5 million Jimmy Ross Endowment Fund for Diversity Initiatives. Materials across the Nelms papers document these efforts and more.
Nelms left Bloomington in 2007 to become Chancellor at North Carolina Central University (NCCU), a public, historically black university (or HBCU). The “Other Institutions” series contains notes, reports, and publications from his tenure at NCCU. Although he officially retired from NCCU in 2012, Nelms has remained an active author, public speaker, and consultant. His books include Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned (Bookmasters, 2004) and From Cotton Fields to University Leadership: All Eyes on Charlie (Indiana University Press, 2019). A portion of the proceeds from From Cotton Fields to University Leadership are donated to HBCU scholarships. In 2019, Nelms was awarded an honorary doctorate from IU for his exemplary leadership.
As I mentioned, my favorite part of the Charlie Nelms papers remains the “Speeches” series. Not only does it reveal the depth and breadth of his community engagement, it shows how Nelms has woven his commitment to justice and education throughout his career. Even beyond this series, however, the Charlie Nelms papers documents a life and career we should all aspire to. As our late winter doldrums trudge on, it’s easy to become stressed and disheartened with our workloads as university students and employees. I urge you to check out this collection when you need a reminder of why your education and work (here at IU, at another university, or anywhere, really) matters for the betterment of our democracy. If you are interested in viewing this collection, please feel free to contact us and set up an appointment!
Readers recently got to experience the joys of Indiana University’s former Audio Visual Center (IUAVC) in Hannah Osborn’s post “Chucky Lou: The Story of a Woodchuck…and Captive Wildlife in Indiana.” I’m happy to report that as we process this collection at the archives, we continue to find plentiful moments of joy in the documents and materials that represent the IUAVC’s history. Not too long ago, Director Dina Kellams was perusing the collection to pull some material for an undergraduate class when she stumbled across a folder with the handwritten label: “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.” To celebrate a joyful new year and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, which starred Tom Hanks as Fred Rogers and premiered November 22, let’s take a look at the relationship between the AVC and this beloved touchstone of educational television.
At first glance it might not be obvious why this folder exists in the IUAVC collection. It is comprised of news releases issued by National Educational Television (NET) from 1967-1969. The releases detail specific Mister Rogers’ programs as they were aired, including initial broadcast dates, program lengths, medium information, indications if the program was in color or black and white, and synopses. These synopses are admittedly pretty adorable and endearing in and of themselves:
“Program #41: What to do if you’re frightened? Misterogers explains that people can express their feelings in all sorts of ways. X the Owl spends the day making a rainbow from cardboard and doing scientific experiments. Henrietta Pussycat is upset by the thunder and lightning. Lady Aberlin suggests it is because the noise is unexpected. A game of “peek-a-boo” helps Henrietta; so does the explanation that lightning helps light up dark places. Misterogers turns the lights off and on to show that everything in the room is the same, even when it’s dark.”
These descriptions give us a picture of the major themes, characters, and lessons we came to know and love in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. The associated information, such as broadcast dates and other administrative data, give us some historical understanding of the show’s trajectory in the late 1960s. But why are these releases in a folder used by the AVC? A document nestled about halfway through the folder, titled “INDIVIDUAL PROGRAM DATA” from June 1, 1967, gives us some clues. The document includes a general description of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, biographies of Fred Rogers and other featured talent, and descriptions for the first 100 Mister Rogers’ programs. The document is created by “ETS Program Service, Bloomington, Indiana.” I wasn’t sure what ETS stood for (I ventured to guess “educational television service”), so I did a quick Google search for “ETS Program Service Bloomington Indiana 1967.” This isn’t always the case, but sometimes a well-phrased Google search can be an archivist’s friend. I immediately found the answer in a digitized copy of The Public Broadcasting Act of 1967. A section of the act included facts about educational television stations—or ETS. It detailed:
“The ETS Program Service was established in 1965 at Bloomington, Indiana. It is operated by Indiana University Foundation under contract to Educational Television Stations, NAEB. This service provides an exchange of a variety of programs selected from the best productions originating at local stations. There is a small per-program use charge to offset distribution costs. This nation-wide program distribution facility was made possible through grants for the National Home Library Foundation and the W.K. Kellogg Foundation.”
ETS members such as IU’s ETS Program Service were responsible for preparing regional and national conferences on education and media, communicating educational television issues to national government and private agencies, compiling reports that documented educational television progress, and disseminating information to other educational television stations. This last point helps clarify the purpose of this June 1967 document: The ETS Program Service in Bloomington likely distributed this informational sheet to area television stations and other entities (such as schools and libraries) who would be interested in showing Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.
It is pretty cool to see IU’s educational television services represented in the congressional act that established the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) and set the path for establishing the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) and National Public Radio (NPR). The Public Broadcasting Act also had a strong connection to Fred Rogers himself. Rogers was a key supporter of the act and, two years later in 1969, testified before the Senate to defend the CPB and public broadcasting as a whole. The footage of the testimony has become iconic, in part because it played a central role in the 2018 documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Rogers’ testimony is celebrated as a meaningful moment in American public rhetoric, and featured goose bump-inducing quotes such as:
“This is what I give. I give an expression of care every day to each child, to help him realize that he is unique. I end the program by saying, “You’ve made this day a special day, by just your being you. There’s no person in the whole world like you, and I like you, just the way you are.” And I feel that if we in public television can only make it clear that feelings are mentionable and manageable, we will have done a great service for mental health.”
You can view the video of his testimony and read a transcript of it here!
Now that we know why the ETS Program Service would have a folder on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, we can better understand the multifarious functions of the IUAVC. IUAVC was originally called the Film Archives’ Educational Film Collection and was launched in the 1940’s through IU’s Extension Division. The center amassed tens of thousands of 16mm films, which it would rent out to schools, libraries, and educational groups for low fees. IUAVC became a leader in the field of instructional technology and media in the mid-twentieth century. It worked in tandem with the National Instructional Television Library (NIT), which was located and operated by the IU Foundation (NIT became an independent entity in 1968 and renamed itself the Agency for Instructional Technology—AIT—in 1984. Learn more about AIT at the IU Libraries Moving Image Archive!). The IUAVC was also the exclusive distributor of films produced by National Educational Television (NET), the predecessor to PBS. Going back to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, the first nationally broadcast season of the show was aired on NET in 1967. This means the IUAVC played a central role in the rise of Mister Rogers’ popularity in the late 1960s.
As we continue to process this exciting and important collection we’ll be sure to share more gems with you. In the meantime, you can get in touch with our friends at the IU Libraries Moving Image Archive to access IUAVC films and videos! And remember: You always make each day a special day. You know how: By just your being you!