The Preservation Technology Podcast

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Preservation Technology Podcast

Welcome to the Preservation Technology podcast, the show that brings you the people and projects that are bringing innovation to preservation.

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152. All that She Carried

Transcript

Megan: This is Megan Reed from the Preservation Technology Podcast and I am here with...

Tiya Miles: Tiya Miles.

Megan: Thank you so much for being with us. We're here to talk about your book, “All That She Carried.” Can you briefly describe to our listeners what the book's about?

Tiya Miles: “All That She Carried” is the history of an artifact and the people who used this artifact and cherished it over the years and across the generations. The artifact is an antique cotton sack that was produced in South Carolina around the 1850s. It was used by an enslaved woman named Rose, to try to care for and support her daughter through an incredibly difficult time in both of their lives, which was the sale of Rose's daughter, Ashley, during the period of the domestic slave trade in the United States. Rose packed this sack with various items that she thought her daughter Ashley would need to be able to survive the separation from her mother and to persevere into the future.

Megan: You did a lot of heavy research and background into Ashley's sack. Can you describe how you were able to search for Rose?

Tiya Miles: I'd like to back up and fill listeners in on how I even knew to try to identify this woman. This sack is incredibly special because it is not only a bag, it is also an artifact, an object, a piece of material culture that is also a work of art, also, a text. In the book, I talk about it as being poetic. It's like a poem because a descendant of Rose and of Ashley, named Ruth Middleton, told the story on the sack itself. She picked up her needle. She picked up different colored spools of thread, and she sewed sentences onto the sack. So this bag becomes a document in many ways. In that embroidered inscription, Ruth Middleton names Rose, who is her ancestor. She also names Ashley, who is her grandmother. She talks about the separation of the mother and the daughter. She talks about that terrible sale, and she lists all the things that Rose packed into the sack.

So that's how I knew that I needed to look for Rose. There are no surnames on the inscription above the signature. There aren't really specifics beyond the fact that it took place in South Carolina, and all those details needed to be filled in in order to reconstruct the history and to tell the story. I started looking at records that have to do with enslavement in South Carolina -- enslaver's records because unfortunately, that is where information about enslaved people is most likely to be found. I was looking at the records at the South Carolina State Archives and also in a wonderful digital archive that was crowdsourced and is available online.

I searched for the name Rose in all these records across all these plantation documents that were onsite in South Carolina (the physical documents), and also that had been digitized. I learned through that search that the name Rose, was a common name for enslaved women in the mid-19th century. There were dozens of Roses. Ashley, as it turned out, was a very uncommon name. Ashley was, at this time, more of a masculine name than a feminine name. It was a name that tended to be given to white men. It was the name of a river in a certain part of South Carolina. So with Rose being a very common name, Ashley being a very unusual name for enslaved people, especially enslaved women, I then knew that I was looking for a Rose and an Ashley who might appear together on the same document. I did find that. I found just a couple of examples of Rose and Ashley together, and some of those examples were not in the right time period, which then ended up pointing to a particular Rose and a particular Ashley.

Megan: You also mentioned trying to find Rosa Jones, which is I believe Ashley's daughter. How was that?

Tiya Miles: On the embroidered sack, there are only three names. The name of Rose, the original mother, who packed the sack, There’s the name of Ashley, her daughter who received the sack, and the name of Ruth Middleton, who was a granddaughter and great-granddaughter who saved the sack, preserved the sack, and sewed the inscription onto it.

Ruth Middleton is the recorder. I talk about her as an oral historian in the book. She's the person who makes this story accessible to us. For whatever reason, she did not choose to inscribe her own mother's name in the sack. Ruth's decision not to include her own mother's name on the embroidered inscription left a gap. And the challenge then was to try to identify who stood in that gap. Luckily, time had passed, and record keeping was more helpful because Rosa could be identified in census records. We must say, as I mentioned in the book, that there are places in the reconstruction of this family line and of this history, where I had to make educated guesses. In the book, I always let readers know when I feel more certain or when I'm making an educated guess, when I'm relying on primary sources, and when I'm relying on secondary sources.

Megan: You identified there are three objects that Ruth mentioned that were in the sack. Can you tell our listeners what those objects were and how you used that to describe the identity of Ashley in that time period, and how you used to identify what their way of life was?

Tiya Miles: There weren't very many documents that pointed directly to Rose and Ashley, and to their story. Like many enslaved people, they did not have the ability, the capacity, the freedom to create or to preserve a cache of papers that would tell us about their lives, and so the sack itself, and the inscription on the sack that Ruth Middleton sewed, really became my major source for trying to identify them, for trying to interpret their lives, for trying to understand what they valued and what they cared about. By focusing on the sack as the source, I was able to open the reconstruction of that past out into various contextual directions.

The inscription says that Rose packed a tattered dress, three handfuls of pecan, and a braid of Rose's hair for Ashley. So those were the physical material things she packed. The inscription on the sack also tells us that Rose packed her love for Ashley. The word love is the centerpiece of the inscription, beautifully sewn in large red letters. When I was doing the research and writing the book, I tried to think about each of those items, and then to share how it was that enslaved people might have gotten ahold of those items, how they may have used those items, how they may have interpreted those items themselves and assigned meaning to them.

To offer one example, the dress is evocative as one of the things that Rose packed because enslaved women didn't have the capacity, the ability, the freedom, or the resources to possess a large wardrobe that they could choose of their own accord . Instead, they were assigned a certain amount of fabric per year. They were given a very small number of clothing items. They were never provided with enough clothing by their enslavers to keep them covered and warm throughout the seasons. By the end of a year, enslaved people's clothing would be worn, torn, stained. They wouldn't have shoes. They wouldn't have the items necessary to protect their bodies, so clothing was a very important category of material goods for enslaved people.

I write about how enslaved women recognized that clothing was sort of a battlefield in which there was a wrestling match going on having to do with human dignity. Their enslavers intended to provide them with the cheapest, most minimal amount of clothing as a way to demean them and to classify them as belonging to a certain category; the category of the enslaved, the category of people who didn't deserve to have beautiful, durable, comfortable, well-fitting clothing.

Enslaved women fought against this by doing all they could to quietly or secretly attain fabric on their own. Sometimes they would stay up all night making clothing for themselves or for their children and families. They would embellish this clothing, and they would then dress themselves on Sundays when they were going to church in articles of clothing that they had made that expressed their artistry, and their care for themselves and their family members.

So by packing a dress for Ashley, one of the things I think Rose was saying, is: you are worthy of care. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of being covered in a fabric, and dressed in an item that was selected for you. There are other ways in which I talk about clothing as well in the book, in relation to the vulnerability and exposure of enslaved girls and enslaved women, and how important clothing was or could have been as a barrier for them, protecting them from the views of people who would be attempting to buy them on an auction block, from overseers, from enslavers who meant them harm, and especially from people who might wish to exploit them sexually.

Megan: My final question to you is did you ever think your book would be such a success that you would win so many awards for it, and that is now on the top eight books for the National Trust of Historic Preservation books about preservation?

Tiya Miles: I am astounded and so honored by the attention the book has garnered, by the recognition that the book has garnered, which shined the light on these women who preserved their own lives, and preserved this sack, and preserved the story which we can now all share in. Back when I started the book, Megan, I wasn't sure I could even finish it because I didn't know if there was going to be enough material. To now see the book having such a wide readership is such a gift.

Megan: We have a project going on about documenting slave cabin and tenant farming houses across, and we were actually at St. Simon's Island documenting, and people came up to us like, "Have you read this book? You really need to just read this book." So that's when we first heard about it. We're like, "Okay, we got to read it."

Tiya Miles: That's wonderful. That's wonderful to hear.

Megan: Thank you so much, Tiya. That was great. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation, and thank you so much for being with us.

Megan Reed speaks with Tiya Miles about her book "All that She Caried" and Tiya's deep dive into the history of an object to tell a family's story.

153. Cherokee Rose

Transcript

Subheading: What is “The Cherokee Rose?”

Megan: This is Megan Reed from the Preservation Technology Podcast and I am here with... Tiya Alicia Miles: I’m Tiya Miles, I’m very happy to be here, Megan. Megan: The book “The Cherokee Rose”, can you briefly describe that? Tiya Alicia Miles: It's a very different kind of book, but there are also many echoes and intersections across these two books. “The Cherokee Rose” is subtitled A Novel of Gardens and Ghosts. It is a work of fiction, though very much like “All That She Carried” in spirit. It is a work that is situated in a southern place; it is very much about the environment surrounding a group of people. And in the case of “The Cherokee Rose,” those people are fictional or fictionalized. But the book is also based on quite a lot of historical research. It was inspired by research that I started when I was a graduate student writing my dissertation, and by research that continued in my first two books, which were about the history of slavery in the Cherokee Nation, about African-American, African-descended people who were sadly and unfortunately and immorally owned as slaves, held as property by Cherokee people in the 19th century. “The Cherokee Rose” is a novel that takes place in two time periods; it's situated in the 19th century and also in our present time. “All That She Carried” is very similar, actually. It is a work of history, but it's also very much about what the history means to us today and about the preservation of the past today, the interpretation of the past today. On “The Cherokee Rose,” I had more leeway, more room to explore, the contemporary period because it was about a fictional set of characters. There are three main characters, all women from different racial and cultural backgrounds, from different parts of the country, who are drawn to one place: The Cherokee Rose Plantation. “The Cherokee Rose” is located in what we now call Georgia, but what used to be the Cherokee homelands and Cherokee territory. These three women come to “The Cherokee Rose” for what they think are their own reasons, but in actuality, they are called there by the ghost of a historical figure, a young girl who used to be a student at a missionary school on the same grounds of The Cherokee Rose Plantation. The women in the present-day time who are named Jinx, Ruth, and Cheyenne, arrive thinking that they've got a plan and thinking they have their own intentions, and then find themselves drawn into and swept up by a mystery, which has to do with the history of that house and with what took place there 200 years before. Megan: Wow, that's great. You said you had years of research; I believe you said you had 15 years of research in African-American and Native American relationships that were basically the foundation of how this book created. You wrote it from primaries. What historic sources and ideas that you came during that research that helped you, inspire you to tell this story in the way that you have told it? Tiya Alicia Miles: The first primary source was the plantation itself. I really do think of places, human-built structures, and natural features of the landscape as being sources. They inspire me, and they also give me information about things that took place in the past and the people who lived in the past, events that transpired in the past. And in the case of “The Cherokee Rose,” that place is the Chief Vann House State Historic Site in Chatsworth, Georgia. I visited the Vann House many years ago when I was a graduate student, and I went there as I was trying to better understand this history of enslavement in the Cherokee nation, the history of Black and Cherokee, and Black and Indigenous relationships. And back at the time when I first went, which was in the late 1990s, the Vann House State Historic Site was not interpreting the presence of Black people at all. It was in many ways, a typical plantation museum where the focus was on the people who lived in wealth and luxury on that plantation. The focus was on the architecture, and on the furniture, and on the linens, and on the wealth, and the entertainment, and the recreational pursuits of the people who lived in the house. As opposed to on the people whose labor made all that possible. So that was the first tour that I took of the Vann House. I noticed right away that they weren't doing anything about enslaved people, and I decided that I wanted to try to remedy that in whatever way I could. And so, I wrote about the Vann House in the form of a history and some articles. Visiting that house over the years, because I went back many times, always left me with a very strong sense of the presence of the place -- I mean, the presence of the house itself, the presence of the grounds, the presence of the tree, some of which had been there during the time that the Vann family, a Cherokee family, had lived there. And during the time that the people they enslaved, who numbered more than 100, had lived there. And it seemed as if every time I went back to the house, I noticed something different about the structure itself or about the landscape. One of those things that really stood out to me was the carved roses that actually do exist in the Vann House. I don't think I noticed those roses the first time, maybe even the second time, possibly the third time that I went. But at some point I started noticing them, and they really caught my attention, that level of detail in the architecture. And that detail stuck in my mind as I thought about the history of the Cherokee people, of the Cherokee nation of Afro-Cherokee people, and also the meaning that had been connected up with the flower, The Cherokee Rose flower, in Cherokee cultural life. Cherokee people had connected, The Cherokee Rose, the flower, with the history of removal, and they had a story about how everywhere that a Cherokee mother's tears touched the ground during this very difficult period in Cherokee history, a Cherokee rose would grow. And so, this place of the plantation, the house, its gardens, were incredibly inspiring for the novel that I ended up writing called “The Cherokee Rose.” And that was just one primary source, but it was a fundamental, foundational primary source for me. I could never have written this novel if I had not walked that landscape and visited that house numerous times. I'll mention another source because I find it very helpful and constructive to pair places with written materials, with documents. So the other source I will mention are the Moravian missionary records. There are a whole lot of them. The missionaries of the Moravian Church, a Protestant denomination, lived in the Cherokee nation for decades. Starting in the late 18th and the early 19th century, they were invited to come to the Vann grounds by the Cherokee owners of that plantation. They wrote diary entries just about every day. They wrote letters back to their home community and around the world all the time, and they wrote reports of what they were doing several times a year. There are hundreds of pages of description and documentation about this plantation and about this place. So marrying those two major sources, I was inspired to write something beyond the history that I had written about the place, to write a novel, which is what we're talking about right now. Sub Header: Discussion on writing non-fiction verse fiction narratives Megan: In your first part of your introduction, you mentioned, and I quote, "If history is intended to enlighten readers about change over time, fiction is intended to take readers on an emotional journey through identification with characters." Was that your intention? Because I know you wrote in your previous history , “The House on Diamond Hill,” about the plantation. Was that your intention with trying to convey to your readers an emotional journey in telling these stories in “The Cherokee Rose?” Tiya Alicia Miles: I had written a history called “The House on Diamond Hill,” which reconstructed the past of that plantation, and that's a nonfiction work. And I had also published an article called “The Showplace of the Cherokee Nation,” which is in The Public Historian journal. I'd given lots of talks -- academic talks, community talks about this place. And I'm very pleased with that work. I was satisfied with what I was able to put together as a scholarly reconstruction and analysis. But, there are limits to what we can do in academic formats and in even public historical forms. We really do have to adhere to the evidence. We really do have to interpret, translate, and share out what it is that we have found in those sources. And we need to be, in my opinion, true to those sources. For me, that wasn't enough. I wanted to go further. I wanted to be able to think about and to share something having to do with the emotional lives of the people who had lived there. And the existing documentary record wasn't allowing me to do that. There are just places that we cannot go in terms of the interiority of human experience when we're only using historical documents. I wanted to think about feelings and emotional journeys, especially of women who had lived on this plantation in the past, and that includes Indigenous women, African women, and Euro-American women because they were all there together. They were all there, living in very close proximity in the same buildings, and they were shaping each other's lives. But the record couldn't really go into full detail or into great depth about what that meant for them and about whether change was possible for them as they got to know one another when it came to the racial lenses that they wore and walked around with. I wanted to explore that. And once I started to think about the women in the past and how they related, I started to think: these women were people who may have, might have, could have become friends. May have, might have, could have supported one another. I then wanted to kind of time travel and bring that idea into the present time on those same plantation grounds, to bring women together who were, again, very different, who had different backgrounds, who had different racial lenses, who had different class backgrounds, who had different power in relation to one another when it came to societal views about where they stood. And I wanted to test if, in the present time, if I brought contemporary characters to the same place, to these very same grounds, to the same plantation house that had shaped the lives of women in the past, could they come to know one another in a different way. Could they come to understand each other's deep-seated needs and doubts, and even traumas? Could they come to support each other? Could they come to see each other in a different way? Could they possibly even become friends? And if they could become friends, could they see this place that had made that possible as being worthy of their care and attention, of being worthy of preservation? Sub Header: Ghost lore as a way of confronting difficult social history Megan: That is a beautiful way to put it. And that goes into my next question: how this book, along with another one I think that you had before about ghost lore, and how you were using it as a tool to confronting those troubled, social history, and dynamics. Can you brief it into about how you use the superstition of ghost lore and how you tackle that difficult subject and title? Tiya Alicia Miles: Yes, a book called “Tales from the Haunted South,” several years ago. In that book, I visited a number of so-called haunted places in various southern cities. I paid attention to whether or not and how enslaved people, how Black people, how Native people were represented in those ghost tours. Now what I found out, Megan, was actually pretty disturbing. These ghost tours tended to romanticize, exoticize, and to paint in violent terms for the titillation of tourists, the histories of slavery. I wrote about that, and I was critical of that in the book. But I also noticed while I was on those tours that a number of people who might not think of themselves as history fans, or historians, or scholars went on those tours. Those tours caught their attention; those tours caught their interests. And on those tours, they were actually going to historic sites. They were actually hearing about people who had lived in the past. And I thought, "Could there be a way to draw that interest and to take advantage of the spark that people feel when they hear about ghosts and connect it up with a well-researched history that is intending to present people with a greater sense of the realities of the past? That is intending to humanize the representation of enslaved people and to actually bring people together across differences? The figure of the ghost in society and in American culture often represents the past. The ghost is a way that people can connect to the past; the ghost tours are a way that people can briefly visit the past, and that we as public historians can, in a positive way, draw on to present people with a fuller, better researched, more from-the-heart representation of slavery in the South. Sub Header: How to encourage other writers to tackle these untold or challenging history topics? Megan: How would you advise or encourage other writers to tackle these untold or challenging history topics that you describe in The Cherokee Rose? Tiya Alicia Miles: Don't avoid it. Don't tell yourself that you can't do it because you don't have the sources or because it's a sensitive topic. We need people and all kinds of people in different positions, from different backgrounds, with different experiences, who are willing to go to these places of pain in the past, to dive into these documents and these oral histories that may be difficult to read, and to help us all to confront them together. Because I really do believe that it's in the past that we find ourselves; it's in the past that we find resources. We're contending with our present experience and our future. We need writers, we need storytellers, we need artists, we need preservationists to help us to go back into that past -- to see it, to interpret it as faithfully as we can, and to save it. Megan: Thank you so much, Tiya, for being with us. It was great having a conversation with you.

Megan Reed speaks with Tiya Miles about how historical fiction can help people understand difficult histories.

154. The Material Culture of Writing

Transcript

Catherine Cooper: Hello, my name is Catherine Cooper. I am here with-- Cydney Alexis: Cydney Alexis. I am an Associate Professor of Composition and Rhetoric at Kansas State University. My favorite National Park is Grand Teton National Park. I was very excited to see that you work for the Park Service, because I am a big fan of the National Parks. Hannah Rule: And I'm Hannah Rule. I'm an Associate Professor of English and Composition Rhetoric, sometimes called Writing Studies, at the University of South Carolina. And my favorite National Park is … --I'm afraid of the outdoors!. [laughing] Catherine Cooper: Thank you both so much for joining me today. So, you just wrote a book called The Material Culture of Writing. And I was wondering what led each of you to be curious about the objects that surround and are used in writing practice? Cydney Alexis: Well, we were lucky in that we had a friend professor bring us together, because she knew... She had been working with Hannah closely, and she knew that I was writing about objects. And so, we did a presentation together at a conference, which was great. And quickly the book idea began to evolve, but I'd always been interested in objects. When I was a little kid, I loved Richard Scarry's Best Story Book Ever!. And I would just spend countless hours for years with this book. It has little people and little objects that are labeled. Never knew you could study objects in this way, until I landed at University of Wisconsin-Madison. And I was in the English Department studying Composition and Rhetoric, but found that they had a Material Culture program and a Material Culture certificate. And that's when I began to study objects in a scholarly way. The field merges art historians, archeologists, historical archeologists, people from every discipline really. And so, I was so excited to actually be able to study the theory behind this obsession that I had always had. Hannah Rule: Just to go off what Cydney was saying. I think that the origin story of us getting together was possibly eight years ago, and that original conference presentation, from then we were starting the book in a sense. So, it's been a long time coming. But I think for me, I think what brought us together, Cydney is really coming from the material culture studies perspective and has taught me a lot over the course of our collaboration. For me, my work in composition and rhetoric has been focused on composing processes and how people get writing done. Writing itself is a technology of human invention, and it exists only by virtue of things. It literally could not exist if humans didn't take up various objects to make writing also a thing, a material thing that exists and circulates in the world. So, oftentimes in my discipline, people talk about writing in terms of something that happens in the mind or in the imagination, as this ephemeral human act, but I'm really insistent upon and interested in the ways that it's full-bodied and material. So, that's part of, I hope, the work that the book does for people, both inside our discipline and interdisciplinary audiences as well. Catherine Cooper: What was the impetus for putting together these passions into a book and at this particular time? Cydney Alexis: I don't know if Hannah had also been thinking about this book, but I had been obsessing about it already. But when you're thinking about a book and you have no idea how that works, it felt very distant and far away. And when our colleague and friend, Laura Micciche, did bring us together, she said, "You two should know each other. You two should work on this project together." And every time someone encourages you, it just feels a little bit more possible. And of course, Hannah had already been working on a book. I think you were already working on your book when we met. She was able to also show me how it works, which was really nice. Hannah Rule: Yeah. And I think part of our coming together that's been really fruitful, is we've been able to encourage one another that our passions or just casual interests... With that conference that we keep referencing, I was on about writing about keyboards and the stability of keyboards over technological change. And I thought, "Is this a thing? Is it interesting? Does it have stakes?" And I think over our collaboration, we just encourage each other that, yeah, there's something there. There's something interesting. So, I think that's something that we've really benefited from in collaborating is coming from different perspectives and different frameworks, and using them to write about things that we think are cool. And that's been a real pleasure. Catherine Cooper: You mentioned in the book that the pandemic and the Black Lives Matter movement impacted your thinking while you were putting the book together. Would you be willing to share some of your thoughts on how the material in the book, the choices you made, what chapters you included, how you would approach that possibly differently if you were to do an edited volume or a second edition? Hannah Rule: Cydney and I have thought a lot about this, and I think there's two things that came up while we were in the long process of publishing the book. And one was really aided in part and brought to light through Laura Micciche, who is a mentor of mine and who, again, brought us, Cydney and I, together. And she wrote a foreword for the book where she muses on access. And that's something that we realized was of course part of the book the entire time, but it wasn't at the forefront of some of the stories our contributors were telling. And the other was preservation, which is to say many of our contributors are thinking about contexts, human lives that are historical. And we took for granted, to some extent, the amount of effort and leveraging of power and money that it takes to get someone's stuff to remain. Jefferson's chapter, that Diane Ehrenpreis contributed, she's a Curator of Decorative Arts and Historic Interiors at Thomas Jefferson Foundation, at Monticello. And she was writing about Jefferson's writing suite, his furniture. There's fascinating stories to tell there, and she tells it. But it also made us really think about his own legacy, and why it is that we have access to these pristinely preserved objects, and what we don't have about the lives that moved through Monticello. And Diane, along with us, we really thought hard about that chapter and whose stories we could try to tell on the margins of this very well-preserved and curated sense of this historical figure, and try to see him truthfully in an extremely complex and fraught context that it would be unethical to ignore. Cydney Alexis: These are issues that I think Hannah and I have always cared about, but new horrors, what else can you say, emerged throughout the pandemic, that just make the issues crystallize in different ways. And like Hannah said, the various contributors, our Afterward contributor, Kate Smith, and Laura's chapter, it's very interesting to see the touchstones that they pick out. It just raises to the surface the way that someone reads the book. And so, that was very fascinating for us. And then, we could pick up on those issues too. It was something that with us the whole time, and it was very important to us. Catherine Cooper: Is there a second book? Cydney Alexis: Yes, we have a proposal drafted. Catherine Cooper: So, did putting together The Material Culture of Writing spark any ideas of what you want to study next or where you'd like to take your next deep dive? Cydney Alexis: I've been obsessing over a couple of things, other things as well. And one is, I directed the writing center at K-State for a little over five years and came in contact with work in a lot of different fields, the hard sciences, for example. And I would bring in guest speakers from the hard sciences. And they, as you probably know, work on a lot of shorter, newer, fresher research, on short pieces called communications. And it blew my mind that we're still in the 25 pages in terms of consumer research, another field I work in, sixty-page articles in journals. But what people in the sciences are able to do is really prioritize this quick, new, fresh research so that you're not necessarily working for eight years, for 10 years on a project, but you're allowed to take that well-researched quick dive into issues that come up. That and also just reading the research about everyone who got left behind in the pandemic, parents, moms especially, productivity rates and publishing rates just plummeted throughout the pandemic, because people in parent roles were having to caretake during the pandemic, so much harder to get scholarship out, and underrepresented groups who had suffered in the pandemic because of unequal access to healthcare. And so, Hannah and I talked and said, "I'm starting to think a lot about a book that has shorter pieces, where we generate more histories of writing artifacts that are missing in our field and do it more quickly, and allow lots of different voices to contribute." Because you can take a look around your house or in your collection and find an artifact that you want to research, and write a shorter piece instead of that 25 page piece. Hannah Rule: Yeah, I think part of the drive, in addition to a lot of the touch points that Cydney laid out is, I think we're excited to really allow scholars, not just in English Studies or Writing Studies, but those working across disciplines potentially. That's something I've really valued about our collaboration is, it's not easy to do cross-disciplinary or interdisciplinary work. Part of the drive too is that I think people want to write about and think about their stuff, the writing stuff. There's something alluring about it. And I know Cydney and I feel that and we try to spread it about, but I think common people... Cydney described when she was kicking around this idea with her family, that her father-in-law was like, "I want to contribute something," but what was the object that he was- Cydney Alexis: And he wrote it. Office printers from the 1980s. Hannah Rule: There's just something about this that compels people, it's part of people's lives as they make their way in the world in various ways through literacy, through reading and writing. It's through stuff, I think. And I think there's something, I don't know if it's thoroughly scholarly or not, but nevertheless it does compel. And so, we want to give some space for those stories of both personal connection and objects of study. Cydney Alexis: People are really compelled by this, but there's often also a knee-jerk reaction of, stuff is superficial. Stuff is material, it doesn't matter. And so, people can not have a sense of how deeply this matters. And there's some touchstone figures, historical archeologists, James Deetz and Henry Glassie, folklorists, and their work is so incredible in showing why every day vernacular stuff matters. Deetz was looking at deeds, old house deeds, or a lists of items sold on a farm, whatever it was, to actually find out how did people live? How did these stories that, again, we don't have documentation of because these are people who weren't paid attention to, their stories and lives. The stories of the poor, for example. The objects that they had in their home didn't matter. Material Culture scholars came through in the 70s, ever since then and said, "Yeah, this stuff really matters. You're not seeing it in museums, but you should. We need to look at the "low art, hip artifact". We need to look at the everyday form. This is what Hannah and I have been thinking a lot about, and we tried really hard with the first book. We wanted people to pick everyday objects and fell in love with some of these artifacts, like one of the writers in the book who was a student of mine, a grad student. And she wrote about the Victorian baby book. And it is just such an amazing artifact, because this is something that you would see in so many homes. Catherine Cooper: What would you like people to take away from your book? Cydney Alexis: That writing objects matter. Attention to them is a serious thing. Yes, our focus is we're Writing Studies scholars, but we get so much pleasure from the objects that we work with and around, and they also enable our work and writing lives and personal lives in so many important ways, that there is serious work going on there. Hannah Rule: I think that in our field, in Writing Studies, we can overlook this dimension, even though there are competing underlying impulses that do draw individuals towards these stories and these inquiries. And so, I want people to maybe see writing differently. I think there's an important interdisciplinary reminder that many people in many fields are interested in writing, and writing objects or writing artifacts. There's plenty of work that the discipline of Literary Studies can do, I’m thinking about what it's doing and so on. And one thing I would advocate for is that, we are more alike, us in Writing Studies, interested in everyday writing, and writing broadly construed and what's going on in Literary Studies. After all, we're just all human beings making our way in language. Catherine Cooper: Are you also looking at other forms of writing? So, quilting or knot work, or there are these other languages that we inscribe into objects that it could just keep going? Cydney Alexis: Absolutely. That was the main... I did present that piece on the roller skate at our field’s national conference. And it's not the skate that's doing the writing, but the skate is facilitating all of this writing work on Instagram, because people... Skating exploded in popularity in a lot of communities globally, throughout the pandemic. And so, people were turning to Instagram and TikTok to document this, and just creating this voluminous body of writing because of this artifact. So yeah, we have been thinking really expansively. We're so thrilled about the chapters in the book that helped to broaden what people would see as writing. The conservators file was so exciting to us for that reason. Hannah, I don't know if you want to pick up on- Hannah Rule: This is a proverbial open question, I suppose in our field. What are we picturing when we talk about writing? Because there's obviously, through various movements... In our field, we think about multimodality, which is the other symbolic systems that we use to make meaning, that exceeds language. So, Patricia Dunn is one scholar who's thought about that we over emphasize or value especially written language, as the chief way to do, let's say, intellectual work. And her point is to say, there are so many other ways, symbol systems that humans use to think, and to learn, and to communicate what they know. And so, she's one of many people who has helped us in the field say, let's not over invest or overvalue the word. But we get into trouble, because then it questions where are our boundaries, the way we might conventionally think of writing. But it might be other stuff, right? Writing is always getting mixed up with other modalities. So, I'm thinking of the baby book chapter. That's a good example. That's a writing practice. That's what the woman whose book that is, that Emilie Merrigan is thinking about. But if you think about the artifact of the book, even this older, not current artifact, a historical artifact, is already... That technology of that book is an entailing image and layout and spatial arrangement, and alongside scribal activity, which we might conventionally think of as writing. But I think our field of Writing Studies in some way, is always pushing the boundary, I think often to good ends, even as it's like, well then what are we actually talking about when we say writing? We don't just mean words on the page, we mean more than that. But then it's like, again, where do you draw the boundary? Cydney Alexis: There's of course symbolic language systems that complicate the idea of what we mean by writing. But I was thinking as Hannah was talking about a piece that was really electric for me in our field, called “Chronotopic Lamination” [By Paul Prior and Jody Shipka], when I first read it. Because what the authors argue is that, yes, writing can be the final piece, but it's also everything you do in between. So, it's the gardening you do while you're thinking about writing, and it's taking a walk and how you formulate thoughts in your head. The people who can formulate thoughts that way. We're finding out how many people actually don't have internal thought, which is really fascinating in terms of meaning making. And I talk a lot with my students about this, for example, and I have them document all those interstitial moments where they're working on the text, but they're not actually sitting down to write. “And I did a load of laundry, I worked on the problem.” There are a lot of ways to complicate what we mean when we say writing and everything that goes into that final act, sitting down to put words on a page. Catherine Cooper: Thank you both so much for joining us. Cydney Alexis: Thank you so much. Hannah Rule: Thank you so much. This was so fun. Cydney Alexis: Yeah Catherine Cooper: It's been an absolute pleasure.

Catherine Cooper speaks with Cydney Alexis, Associate Professor of Composition and Rhetoric at Kansas State University, and Hannah Rule, Associate Professor of English and Composition Rhetoric about studying the objects that are part of writing practice.

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