Wrapping it up with Thomas Aquinas

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As the semester and year come to a close sadly so does my time as the editor of [Re]collection.  Though there are still a few weeks before the end of the year, this is the last time that I will write a personal post on this blog.  Therefore thought I ought to give a few words of salutations before passing the torch to the more-than-capable Marcel Haas.  I have learned a lot in my six months as editor and have greatly appreciated all of the authors and readers that make this blog a point of interest. I could spend the rest of this post describing the mechanics that go into editing and managing a blog:  copy editing, working with peers and senior colleagues, managing deadlines, keeping an eye out for tone of writing, scrambling to get the final touches on a post, and much more.  But I am sure that many of you are familiar with this process already; in fact, I can imagine a great deal of our readers are academics themselves and are therefore all too familiar with these processes (and more).  So rather than spend any more time on these matters, I have decided I am going to share a parting story from my own research and teaching interests.  My hope is that this story will be interesting and serve properly as parting words for my time as editor.

In May of 1244, Thomas Aquinas decided to leave his cushy life assured of future ecclesiastical appointments and to join the Dominican order.  Perhaps this change of heart is all too close to some of our own lives – leaving a life of potential financial and professional success for headier pursuits (i.e. signing up to spend half a decade of your life getting a PhD).  As he left, Thomas utterly stunned his family who worked so hard to set him off on the right track.  Regardless, Thomas followed his calling and trudged on.  In fact, he did not trudge at all – he became one of the most prolific writers in medieval European history.  Historians estimate that, during his prime, he was producing two to three novel-length volumes per month.  Most readers will likely recognize Thomas’s name from his life’s work, Summa theologiae– a tome that addresses over 4,500 theological questions and was meant to replace the outdated Sentencesof Peter Lombard. Curiously, though, Thomas never finished his magnum opus.  This fact is curious because Thomas simply decided to stop writing seemingly out of the blue.

On December 6, 1273 (not that long from today’s date, albeit 745 years later), Aquinas is reported to have said, “After what I have seen today, I can write no more, for all that I have written is straw”. Historians are not sure exactly what it was that Thomas saw and why exactly he had such a dramatic change in perspective.  Dying three short months later in March 1274, some speculate whether it was some sort of medical diagnosis.  Nevertheless, Thomas stepped away from his enormously productive career at the height of his powers.  More critically though, he did not finish what seemed to be his life’s work. Thomas’s halt in writing has fascinated historians and theologians for years, and it remains puzzling to this day.

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I share this story not to draw any parallels between the theological giant Thomas Aquinas and my own time at [Re]collection. Nor do I plan to offer any new answers as to Thomas’s sudden stoppage of writing.  What I find most fascinating about this whole story is how Thomas continually displays what he thinks is a realistic perspective on his own legacy.  He is reflective and even self-deprecating as he halts his projects to engage in more contemplative pursuits.  This is especially true if he did not know that he would soon pass away just a few months after ceasing writing.  A general point of application that I draw from this story, and, by extension, offer to you as readers is to have the proper perspective as you reach the end of the year.  Whether it is with professional goals, writing projects, grading, or end-of-year holiday hustle, be sure to not overestimate how critical every detail is. Remember that you will always experience a mix of failure and success – perfectly embodied, I believe, in my time here as the editor.  If even Thomas Aquinas gives himself a thoughtful critique and reflection, so can you too.  So, as I wrap things up in the next few weeks, I hope that the posts over the past few months have been a little more than “straw”.  At the same time, I know that it has been a productive season.  Thank you all for all of your support – especially former editor Chiara Ziletti and everyone in the History Department at Central Michigan University.  Finally, I wish my colleague and future editor Marcel Haas all the best in the coming year – viel Glück mein Freund!

Obama Center, African-American golf, and Chicago

Original members of the Chicago Women’s Golf Club, courtesy of Chicago Tonight

Original members of the Chicago Women’s Golf Club, courtesy of Chicago Tonight

By Dave Papendorf

Through the great work of CMU’s own Dr. Lane Demas a recent item of news has come to the forefront — and one of historical note concerning former president Barack Obama’s proposed Obama Presidential Center on the south side of Chicago. Refurbishing bits of Jackson Park along Lake Michigan, the project, headed by the Obama Foundation, plans to provide a “refurbished” public space that connects the park to the lakefront. The park will also include a museum tower that tells the history of the Obamas’ story in the United States and prominently features exhibits on the history of civil rights, African Americans, and Chicago generally. Complete with Obama’s presidential library, a conference center, and a large athletic center, this project will celebrate the Obama family and provide a new public space for south-side residents. The city of Chicago has been largely enthusiastic towards the project, giving the Obama Foundation a sweet deal on the property — a $10 (!), 99-year lease to rent and use the land. Despite a dendrological lawsuit and real estate critiques, the project continues forward.

One larger and more historical concern with the project, however, is closely related to Dr. Demas’ book, Game of Privilege: An African American History of Golf. Jackson Park is the site of the Jackson Park Golf Course, an important historical site for African American golf in the city of Chicago. This course is the primary course of use of the Chicago Women’s Golf Club — established in 1937 and featured prominently in Dr. Demas’ book. Golfers and historians were initially concerned that the Obama Center might close the course in favor of improvements, but this concern seems to have been tempered for now. Currently, the Obama Foundation’s plan is to redevelop some of the property into a six-hole “short course”, and they have enlisted the help of Tiger Woods for design and input. Whether the course will still be accessible to South-Side residence is still debated, but the history of this course is indispensable in telling the history of African Americans in Chicago. Included below is a recent presentation at the CWGC’s clubhouse concerning Nettie George Speedy — the first female African American golfer in Chicago and a founding member of the CWGC. One of Speedy’s descendants offers insight into the history of the organization and its importance. Moreover, the archives preserved at the clubhouse of the CWGC have proven to be a historical resource for retelling this important story:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCT3AgEo9Xs&feature=youtu.be

As previously mentioned, Dr. Demas’ book is award winning in many capacities. He was the 2017 USGA Herbert Warren Wind Award Winner as well as the recipient of the North American Sports Society for Sport History’s book award. Be sure to read more about the history of golf in Chicago in his monograph and keep an eye on the news concerning the course in Jackson Park.

Fellowship Hunting

By Dave Papendorf

As a late-stage PhD student working to finish my dissertation, I have quickly begun to come to grips with the facts.  Specifically, though I was fortunate enough to have funding through my university, my funding package would not cover me completely as I finish my dissertation.  In other words, I wasn’t going to get paid for the final year and a half of my program. Years one and two were breezy and care free; I was just a portion of my time into my program, still learning the ropes, and living blissfully in the time when my biggest worries were seminars and colloquia rather than the dissertation lurking behind every corner. Thankfully, I received advice from some of my mentors to go fellowship hunting.  And away I went.

There are lots of funding opportunities out there, but that doesn’t make any of them less competitive or exclusive.  So, the daunting task began.  Because I study European history, I was naturally drawn towards fellowships that afforded me time to research in Europe and be close to my important archival sites.  After countless hours of research and filling out applications, I fortunately received a six-month fellowship at the Leibniz-Institut für Europäische Geschichte in Mainz, Germany.  The IEG is a non-profit research institution founded to further scholarship in European history and promote collaborative research between the countries in war-torn Europe.  Currently staffed with a large contingent of senior researchers in two divisions (Western Religious History and Universal History), the IEG continuously houses around 40 research fellows (Stipendiaten) who are working on their dissertations.  Housed in the Domus Universitatis (a building built in the 17thcentury to house Jesuit monastics, pictured above), the researchers also have access to a wonderfully-stocked library.  The highpoint of the week at the IEG is the Forschungskolloquium – a time when all of the researchers and fellows gather to hear a presentation from a peer or senior researcher.

Needless to say, I was absolutely thrilled to have received this fellowship.  Since January 2018, my wife and I have lived in Mainz – a historic city along the Rhine which was both inhabited by the Romans as early as the first century B.C.E. and the hometown of Johannes Gutenberg and his famous printing press.  Just living in Mainz alone was worth applying for the fellowship.  However, my experience here has been much more significant than simply living in another country.  I was able to pick the brains of German and European scholars who have offered differing perspectives on dissertation methodology.  It has also been stimulating to work and live with other doctoral students from all over the world and to chat about common experiences (and, let’s be honest, fears concerning the job market).  Moreover, presenting my research to a room of experts on European history was also equally helpful in crafting the intricacies of my dissertation.  In short, my experience at the IEG has been both formative and invigorating as I continue to march forward.  My experience seems to be similar to many of the other fellows that have passed through the IEG.  With this in mind, I recommend that any PhD student seriously consider applying for domestic or international fellowships.  It will give you unique life experiences, allow you funded time to work on your dissertation, and likely, as in my case, give you continued traction to push on with your project.

One final note…although I was successful in my IEG application, I was rejected on five other applications.  It was difficult to remain upbeat through the discouragement of rejection letters, but just remember:  you will get rejected more times than you are accepted.  This is a hard pill to swallow for most PhD students – a group of over-achieving, intelligent, successful, top-of-the-class people. Resist the urge to be discouraged through applications, because the applications are good training for job ads and often serve to make you think more critically about your work and even your CV. In conclusion, apply for fellowships! Keep grinding, and you’ll likely get the opportunity to move somewhere new, receive insight from senior scholars, and get an extra boost of encouragement just when you need it. Good luck!

Introduction 2.0

By Dave Papendorf

Summer is under way, and I hope that you are enjoying nice weather and much-needed time off.  Even though you’re relaxing (hopefully), I will be hard at work as the new editor of the [Re]collection blog for the remainder of 2018.  I am very excited to curate, organize, and present some of the many exciting posts we have ahead this semester.

First, let me introduce myself.  My name is Dave Papendorf, and I will be a fifth-year student in the Transnational and Comparative history PhD program at CMU. I spent this past year teaching and researching for my dissertation.  Before arriving at CMU, I completed my Master of Divinity degree in historical theology at Southern Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky.  Before that, I completed my BA in historical theology at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago.  As a part of CMU’s Joint PhD in history, I also studied for one year studying at Newcastle University in Newcastle, England.  Though I have a background in theology, history has always been of highest interest to me.

My primary area of research is, not surprisingly, the history of Christianity.  Specifically, I study the early stages of the Protestant Reformation in France.  I became intrigued by the topic while studying as an undergraduate student.  Particularly, I realized that none of my assigned textbooks spoke much about the Reformation in France.  When they did, they spoke of the Wars of Religion that began with rising hostility between the Reformed party and a subsection of the Catholic party in France during the 1550s. Simply put, it was extraordinarily unsatisfying to me to find fifty years of religious history (approximately 1500-1550) that seemed to be lost to historians.  This launched my quest to find the answer.

In order to find this answer – or, at least, to get a closer look at the evidence that can lead to an answer – I have studied for nine more academic years, learned to read in two new languages, and read over three-hundred books (I counted!).  And I’m still a long way off!  Though the journey has been difficult, frustrating, utterly fascinating, and time-intensive, I have enjoyed the ride so far.  Most importantly, it has been my curiosity that has kept me going. Ultimately, I think this is what keeps historians going – the insatiable desire to learn new things.  

Some of the most interesting things I have learned along my journey studying history have not been related to history at all; in fact, many of them have a wider application to numerous fields and professions. I hope to gather some of these lessons and share them with you over the next six months as the editor. Thankfully, I have met some great people in my 5 years at CMU.  Many of them will be contributing to the blog soon, so stay tuned for words of wisdom, professional advice, and lots of interesting answers to questions about which we are all curious.  Finally, I want to thank my friend and colleague Chiara Ziletti for her excellent work this past semester as editor of the blog – she has done a tremendous job, and we will surely miss her.

I wish all of you a happy Fourth of July, and I look forward to hearing from some of you.  As always, we encourage and welcome your submissions.