The Reading History Project: "Picky: How American Children Became the Fussiest Eaters in History" by Helen Zoe Veit

Picky: How American Children Became the Fussiest Eaters in History by food historian Helen Zoe Veit doesn’t fit into my 2026 reading plan as far as reading history books advocating for the “our” in our shared history is concerned. Unless someone wants to argue that we’re all supposed to eat a particular way and, therefore, yes, I’ll make a stand for the picky eaters. I am, after all, dealing with a second generation of them, myself. Even without a personal connection, Picky is my favorite type of history book in that it deals with the impact of events on individuals and how we came to be the way we are. Veit does a fine job with this, though I think she stopped a little short.

According to Veit, documents such as letters and journals indicate that children in mid-nineteenth century America most definitely were not picky eaters. They ate an array of foods we don’t associate with children, or maybe even with adults these days. They ate, in fact, what their parents ate. There was no special food for children. What this may mean is that the people who recalled their eating as children in letters and journals ate the same things their parents ate. There may be another population of people who did eat differently as children, but no documentation exists. But that doesn’t change the fact that, historically, picky eating was not a universal childhood experience. Veit explains why childrearing, in terms of feeding, was different then than it is now.

Child mortality was high in the nineteenth century, though. By the end of the nineteenth century, some health/food activists (they did have them back then) suggested diet could be a cause. Veit says the general public didn’t show much interest in that, but it does lead into what would start happening during the Progressive Era.

Veit mentions the Progressive Era by name a few times. For those of us who missed it in history class, it was the period from around 1890 to 1920 (the exact dates vary depending on the source), when reforms were enacted. On state levels you might see improved funding for education. The Sherman Antitrust Act was passed early in the period. The 18^th and 19^th Amendments, prohibiting the sale of alcohol and legalizing women voting were passed toward the end of it. (The eugenics movement in this country was also considered a Progressive reform, to be honest here. I have a hard time not including that with my thinking about early twentieth century progressives.)

This era coincided with a move toward specialization in the professions. You start seeing different types of medical specialties, for instance. Home economics and nutrition become fields, possibly because of women were entering higher education. Home economics and nutrition were considered “women’s interests,” but at this point they were also considered scientific and important. 

So you’ve got a period when people are interested in reform and you’ve got professional fields that are interested in food. Voila! Kids should eat different foods!  Oh and you’ve got an adult population that’s becoming more and more educated, so parents become aware of food studies and recommendations for children through magazines and government publications, as well as whatever their doctors were telling them.

At this point, drinking milk is now considered important for children. This didn’t happen in earlier periods, because without refrigeration (or knowledge of the germ theory of disease), milk wasn’t considered safe for humans to drink. Because it wasn’t. Bringing milk, and a lot of it, into children’s diets was significant, because milk is filling. There had also been little eating between meals in the nineteenth century, which begins to become more common. Filling children up on milk and snacks left them less hungry to eat whatever was put in front of them at meal time. 

By the 1930s you start seeing kids doing less. They’re not working on farms as often, because families are moving to urban areas. They’re not walking as far to schools. They have less opportunity to work up appetites. Another reason why kids are less hungry when they come to the table at mealtime than they used to be.

You start seeing talk of picky eating among children now. It’s definitely a thing by mid-century. Then psychologists get involved. Then post-World War II, you get all kinds of unhealthy prepared food appearing as well as marketing to sell it. Marketing to both adults and children.

Veit makes a very good argument that American culture created the picky eating phenomena. To me it seems as if no other result could be expected given how we were living.

In her Epilogue, Veit offers a list of suggestions for combating picky eating. “Mass childhood pickiness resulted from a series of concrete changes, and parents who understand those changes can directly combat the causes of pickiness today.” This struck me as odd for two reasons.

First, I can’t recall historical works offering information on how to deal with or reverse the issue of the book. This may be a result of my not having read enough history.

Second, Veit doesn’t address a few historical/cultural changes that would impact parents’ ability to follow her suggestions. It's as if she stopped short in documenting the chain of events that got us to the state of child pickiness we're now dealing with, leaving a gap that could have a big impact on parents' ability to "combat the causes of pickiness today."

1. While Veit shows us that pickiness goes back at least to the mid-twentieth century, she never considers what happens to all the picky child eaters who existed over the last seventy years. Did they outgrow pickiness? Or did they become picky adults who will be limited in their ability to model healthy eating for their children and make the changes Veit recommends?
2. Veit only mentions “overscheduling” children in passing. However, kids, and their parents, being tied up with after school and evening activities, prime dinner prep and eating time, goes back at least until the 1980s if not longer. We now have three generations for whom that lifestyle is a norm. That means adults have limited time to prepare the kinds of meals Veit describes and families have limited opportunities to eat them together.
3. Veit never addresses the increase in ADHD and autism. Both those conditions can be accompanied with sensory issues that make eating difficult. Neurodivergent children's (and adults') eating situations are not cultural and would require different kinds of interventions with different kinds of results that can be expected.

Picky: How American Children Became the Fussiest Eaters in History is a terrific book in which the author does an excellent job of explaining how we came to be as we are. It just doesn’t do as good a job of convincing us there’s something we can do about it. But I don’t know that that’s history’s job.

 

 

 

The Reading History Project: Is it Popular History? Is it Creative Nonfiction? Is it Historical Fiction?

Once again, I am going to begin by referring to Sarah Maza's Thinking About History. In her chapter How is History Produced? she says that in the twentieth century "writings about the past increasingly fell into distinct categories of "academic" and "popular."" Popular history can still be written by academics but stylistically it is written with "vivid, elegant prose, and a subject framed in a way that makes it accessible to nonspecialists by assuming no prior knowledge of the field." The subject matter "tends to be more traditional than that of academic history." The motivation for writing and reading it is often curiosity. She also says popular history includes stories, if they are not actually written as stories themselves.

I think Mill by David Macaulay may fall into the popular history category. Or perhaps it could be considered creative nonfiction. Or maybe it's historical fiction. I'm really at a loss on how to describe this. 

The concept behind this beautifully illustrated book is a little difficult for me to grasp. It deals with mills inspired by those in the Blackstone historic area of Rhode Island, but instead of using the actual mills that are known to have been there, Macaulay created fictional ones with fictional people running them. The owners and other people whose journals and letters Macaulay "quotes" never existed. This is all fiction, though the journals, letters, and narrative are fiction that reflects events of the time period, such as the abolitionist movement, the Civil War, and the arrival of French Canadians to work there. 

The depth of technical detail in the narrative describing these mills presumably is correct. Macaulay must have designed these imaginary mills that he then writes about and illustrates. So. there is fact involved with that? 

After having written all the above, I'm going to describe Mill as historical fiction. However, Goodreads classifies it as nonfiction.

Macauley is an award-winning author illustrator who may be best known for The Way Things Work. He won the Caldecott Medal in 1991, and Mill may be considered a children's book. Certainly YA. I mention this because I found the reading rough going. But I will also offer right now that a family member who is a civil engineer read it in a few hours and said, "It's a real page turner." 

I often hear that the publishing world likes books it can pigeonhole and market. I wonder if a book like this, and I think Macauley wrote a number of them, would be an easy sell these days.

What Were You Doing Reading a Book About Mills, Gail?

Well...

For some reason, I am interested in mills. I have an unsold book in which mill history plays a prominent role. If I write another book, a mill will figure in that one. I walk in the woods in Connecticut. You cannot spit without hitting an old dam or mill ruin here.

I own Mill. I asked for it for Christmas, because of my mill interest. I didn't realize the connection between the book and the Blackstone River Valley National Historic until I started reading the book just before we took off for a trip to the Blackstone area. Imagine my surprise!

We had a very hot few days in Rhode Island, so much so that we have put off a trip to another National Historic Site until next month. But we survived it.

And, yes, reading Mill while I was there, amongst the mills that inspired it, enhanced the experience.

The Reading History Project: The Authors Guild's "Essential Reading for America 250"

Gail Reading

There's an incredible amount of reading material available on American history. The Authors Guild has put together a list of nonfiction and fiction by century, that it thinks is Essential Reading for America 250. In case you need a little help getting started. 

Gail's Thoughts About Just Some of the Books:

Uncle Tom's Cabin. God forgive me, when I was young, I thought this sounded boring and never got over that. The write-ups here have me rethinking this.

Leaves of Grass. I am not a big poetry reader, but I have been interested in trying a little Walt Whitman.

Little Women. Not sure how I feel about Little Women as essential reading, since I used to be a big fan of Louisa May Alcott but am not anymore.

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. Somewhere I have an article I haven't read on the significance of this book. So maybe I should just read the book and forget about the article?

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Maybe I should read this again.

How the Other Half Lives. I've been hearing about Jacob Riis for years. Yes, maybe I should read this.

The House of Mirth. I read The Age of Innocence years ago and survived it. I like reading about Wharton, so maybe I should give this a go.

The Great Gatsby. This title keeps coming up over and over again. I know I should reread it. Maybe if it's essential reading for America 250, I can get around to it.

Giant. Read So Big and, again, survived it. And wasn't this a movie with Elizabeth Taylor? Another book that I could take a shot at.

Charlotte's Web. No. Just no. 

Mrs. Bridge. "A gutting depiction of a "quintessentially" American marriage in the heartland?" Or anywhere? Anyone who has been married as long as I have can probably skip this. And wasn't it a movie with Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman? They went to Europe or something?

To Kill a Mockingbird. Have read it a couple of times, once as an early teen, once decades later. Good both times. You should read it. I don't think it's about racial injustice, myself. I think it's about daddy worship.

Kindred. I've read one book by Octavia Butler. I've often thought I should read another. 

There, There. I've read this! Gave it 4 stars at Goodreads.

A Protest History of the United States. I already had this in mind for a possible read this year.

Any other thoughts on the Guild's suggestions?

The Reading History Project: "Black AF History: The Unwhitewashed History of America" by Michael Harriot

In Thinking About History Sara Maza writes that "The skills and temperaments of good research historians are very similar to those of successful journalists: curiosity, ingenuity, patience, and doggedness. And like journalists, good historians know how to put a story together and make it understandable to a wide range of readers." The similarities between historians and journalists may explain why Black AF History: The Unwhitewashed History of America by journalist Michael Harriot is so good.

This marvelous book is more than an account of traditional American history from a Black perspective, which is what I expected when I bought it. It covers a lot of material I didn't know about. Additionally, Harriot's position is that the history of America is the history of racism, a premise I haven't read about before. He does a good job of supporting his argument.

For instance, his contention is that Africans made the plantation system work not just with their labor but with their knowledge. In the Carolinas, Africans had the knowledge and ability to grow rice, what Harriot calls "America's first edible cash crop." He writes of the ineptitude of the original British settlers at Jamestown, saying the colony was saved because of the arrival of slaves. 

In case you haven't heard anything like this before and are wondering if this guy is really talking about whitewashing or just doesn't know history, culinary historian Michael Twitty writes of Africans being brought to America to grow rice in The Cooking Gene: A Journey Through African American Culinary History in the Old South. In The Story of America: Essays on Origins historian Jill Lepore says of Jamestown, "They brought the wrong kind of settlers: idle and indolent English gentlemen, who spent their time bowling in the streets." Harriot is also not the first to have written that Lincoln was primarily interested in preserving the Union, not freeing the slaves and that Franklin Roosevelt did nothing for Blacks. He's not the only writer who doesn't have a lot of positive things to say about Woodrow Wilson, either. 

So, yes, Harriot has read some history. 

I appreciated Harriot's covering the history of political parties in this country, something I've never been clear on, and describing how the Federalist and Democrat-Republicans evolved into the parties we know now. And how racial attitudes passed back and forth between them.

He also makes clear the incredible openness of the violent racism during the Jim Crow era. I missed learning much about the Jim Crow period in my schooling, and I've taken a few history courses in my day. That's something to consider when talking about the teaching of "our history." How much of "our," meaning everyone in the country's, history are we exposed to?

But don't think that Black AF History is just the heaping on of one grim event after another. Though, it kind of is. It is also entertaining. Harriot brings in some memoirish elements to introduce sections, describing his family. Uncle Rob, who appears a few times to take over the narrative, is a standout. "Racist Baby" also appears a number of times, interacting with Harriot's narrative voice so Harriot can provide the little one with some info that his racist parents most certainly will not. 

Harriot's enthusiasm for Black historical figures who have been lost to the general public is, well, touching or heart-warming, not terms I would expect to use regarding a history book. He particularly embraces Black women from the past. I swear I had heard of Ida B. Wells. I just hadn't heard enough.

To wrap this up, I will say that Black AF History is a great combination of content and presentation.

The Reading History Project: History and Politics

In Writing the Trump Years Into History in The New Yorker (May 12), historian Jill Lepore writes about writing history. After calling upon Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men (which I read as a teenager and now want to read again) and her experience writing These Truths: A History of the United States, she discusses the impact she's witnessed of recent executive orders and state laws on what history is taught in classrooms.

Unless you have a New Yorker subscription, you won't be able to read her article. So I'll give you a few high points. Lepore says:

"Make America Great Again" is a four-word argument about American history, and one of the movement's aims has always been to press the teaching and writing of American history into the service of that argument." Trump wishes "...to make American history great again by removing all evidence of anything that ever happened that wasn't so great..."

"In the Trump era, government censorship of American history has been used against not only classroom teachers but also against writers and publishers and librarians and booksellers..."

Gift shops at national parks and National Historic Sites are now supposed to review what they offer for sale for conforming to the "President's preferred account of American history."

Not so great things have happened in America. And everywhere else. Does pretending they didn't happen make it so? Will pretending these things didn't happen make life better now or in the future? 

History vs Politics

I've just started reading Lepore's The Story of America: Essays on Origins. In the Introduction (I read introductions these days) she says she wrote these essays "because I wanted to try to explain how history works, and how it's different from politics." They are both interested in stories about the past, but

"Politics is a story about the relationship between the past and the future; history is a story about the relationships between the past and the present."

"Politics is accountable to opinion; history is accountable to evidence."

But more on The Story of America after I've read beyond the Introduction. 

In the meantime, in Lepore's article Writing the Trump Years Into History she writes about how difficult it is to write historically about the very recent past, because you can't get much perspective on it. And writing a history of our recent past is complicated by what you might call the legal restrictions being placed on history. She brings up the issue of books purchased by Florida public schools, libraries, and universities requiring stickers that indicate the federal name for "Gulf of Mexico" is "Gulf of America," though the term "Gulf of Mexico" first appears in documents from the sixteenth century. 

Does the whole "Gulf of America" thing mean that governments today can change history? Yes, it's only a name, but it's a name that's been in use for four hundred years. 

"...sometimes," Lepore says, "the only thing to do is to fight. And the only way I know how to fight is to write."

Is Reading History a Political Act?

I am going to argue that those of us who don't write can also fight the political takeover of history. We can do it by reading.

No, don't just say "Those executive orders about history are ... " whatever outrageous term comes to mind. Don't just complain. Don't just make jokes about the President sleeping through history class. Jokes aren't doing anything these days.

You know what does do something? Educating ourselves.

Read history. Any history. Any group's history. Just by reading it, you're helping to preserve it. Support the historians you read by buying their work or by asking libraries for it or by reviewing it on-line. Spread your new-found knowledge any way you can.

My somewhat shallow knowledge of history suggests to me that someday we will come out the other side of what's happening now. Groups don't stay in power forever, and the kinds of groups in power now have not held on for long periods in the past. 

We are not powerless. We can retain historical knowledge for the future. Perhaps that is a political act.

The Reading History Project: What Are We Doing for Mother's Day? Mothers as Activists!

Mother's Day, in my humble opinion, can be fun if you have young children. Otherwise:

1. It's an opportunity for a lot of marketing.
2. It causes stress for moms over whether or not their kids will remember to observe the day for them and stress for kids, adult ones, anyway, over what they should do to observe it for mom.
3. It's a grieving time for many people who have lost their mothers or are in the process of doing so.
4. It's one more reminder for mothers who have lost children of what is gone from their lives. 

For some people, Mother's Day doesn't have a lot to recommend it.

The History of Mother's Day

Yesterday historian Heather Cox Richardson tipped her readers off to the fact that the originators of Mother's Day were interested in something else. She's supported by The History of Mother's Day: From Global Peace to Greeting Cards at The Smithsonian American Women's History Museum.

In 1870, Julia Ward Howe, responding to the American Civil War that had ended just a few years earlier and the Franco-Prussian War that was then being fought in Europe, tried to create an annual Mother's Day for peace. In the early twentieth century Anna Jarvis was successful in creating Mother's Day to honor her mother, Ann Jarvis, who just happened to have been involved with a mid-nineteenth century public health movement. She organized Mother's Work Days to, among other hygiene-related activities, collect trash. 

Mother's Day came out of reform movements.

Bringing Mother's Day Back to Activism?

Though a number of states allowed women to vote in local school elections in the nineteenth century, they couldn't vote on the national level. They had to find a different way to have a voice and did so by becoming involved with reform movements, the most prominent being abolition, suffrage, and temperance. 

I'm sort of over Mother's Day, myself. I feel it's a young woman's game. But this idea of Mother's Day and reform or activism brings a whole new level of interest for me. 

From now on, I actually will be thinking about doing something for Mother's Day. It may not be with any kids, though.

 

The Reading History Project: Yes, I Am Obsessed with Frederick Jackson Turner

Frederick Jackson Turner is a historian who could be said to have gone down in history pretty much for what amounts to an essay, The Significance of the Frontier in American History 1893.*   According to Colin Woodard in How the Myth of the American Frontier Got Its Start in Smithsonian, Turner arranged to have Significance of the Frontier in American History published in the American History Association's annual report, taught his thesis to graduate history classes, and lectured about it, but he never wrote a book on the subject. Yet in Does Turner Still Live? Considerations on the Popular Afterlife of The American Frontier by Walter Nugent in The Athenaeum Review describes the essay's influence up until the 1970s and '80s.

I first heard of Turner's essay in high school. I got a totally wrong impression about what the thing was about that I carried with me for many years. So many years. This is my misinterpretation:

In The Closing of the American Frontier, Frederick Jackson Turner said that the frontier served as a place for Easterners who didn't fit in where they were to move where there weren't so many social restrictions and they could get along better. Turner was concerned about what would happen when there was no longer an American frontier and society had no place to send these people.  

Let's be clear, Turner did not write anything called The Closing of the American Frontier. In the nine pages of excerpts that I read from the essay he did write, The Significance of the Frontier in American History 1893, I found nothing about the frontier being used as a dumping ground for Easterners who didn't fit in in Boston and Hartford. 

Did I come up with this myself, as a result of watching too may Westerns on TV while growing up? I have to say, I'm wondering about my high school history teacher now. Was this some kind of Turner interpretation when he was at UVM back in the day? Is it a Turner spin he came up with himself, as a person who reads history?

Also, why did I remember this, particularly since it was wrong?

At any rate, Turner's actual essay, The Significance of the Frontier in American History 1893, was embraced for generations. Though Turner didn't write a book about it, himself, he and Significance of the Frontier turn up in other historians' books to this very day.

What Jackson Really Said About the Frontier

In Significance of the Frontier, Turner argues that

 "Up to our own day American history has been in a large degree the history of the colonization of the Great West. The existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement westward, explain American development."

This experience, happening over and over again as the people on the East coast moved West, settled, then moved further West "promoted the formation of a composite nationality for the American people." 

He describes conflicts between East and West, saying, "The East has always feared the result of an unregulated advance of the frontier, and has tried to check and guide it." Nonetheless, "Steadily the frontier of settlement advanced and carried with it individualism, democracy, and nationalism, and powerfully affected the East and the Old World."

The frontier experience made all of America what it was, not just Western America.

Note that Turner writes about the "existence of an area of free land." He mentions it more than once. And how does he define "frontier?" "...the meeting point between savagery and civilization."

I will also point out here that these days the word "colonization" carries some negative connotations involving oh, taking land from others, enslavement, destroying cultures, and other things of that nature.

What Others Have to Say about Turner

A Historian of His Times. In These Truths: A History of the United States Jill Lepore describes what was going on in the field of history in the late nineteenth century when Turner delivered his paper. History, like other fields then, was professionalizing. Turner was one of the first Americans to hold a doctorate in history. He read his paper at a meeting of The American Historical Association, which had only been founded in 1884. Lepore says: 

"...historians borrowed from the emerging social sciences, relying on quantitative analysis to understand how change happens."  

How does Turner begin The Significance of the Frontier in American History? With a quote from the 1890 Census. 

"Up to and including 1880 the country had a frontier of settlement, but at present the unsettled area has been so broken into by isolated bodies of settlement that there can hardly be said to be a frontier line. In the discussion of its extent, its westward movement, etc., it can not, therefore, any longer have a place in the census reports."

He was using a quantitative analysis of something from the present rather than something from the past in his material but by turning to something so scientific he was marking himself as being from and of his period. In fact, the AHA meeting where he presented his paper was held during the Columbian Exposition in Chicago where all kinds of new things were displayed. They had a Ferris wheel! 

A Historian Who Said Something People Liked.  Megan Kate Nelson writes about Turner in the recently published  The Westerners: Mythmaking and Belonging on the American Frontier. She's not the only writer to point out that Turner's reading of his essay didn't immediately take the academic world by storm. She says that pre-Turner most historians believed the United States became the United States because of European influence. In fact, Turner may be talking about that when he refers to "germs" in his paper. "Our early history is the study of European germs developing in an American environment."

But according to Nelson popular perception of the "Great West" supported Turner. Novels featured Indian fighters saving white families, painters romanticized Western landscapes, and government policies (providing that free land Turner talks about) encouraged people in the East to go West. Turner was preaching to a choir that already believed in a frontier story they thought explained them even if they'd never been West of the Mississippi. Or West of anything. That's mythic.   

A Historian Whose Thesis Is Now Dated.  Remember I asked you to note that Turner writes about the "existence of an area of free land" and defines "frontier" as "...the meeting point between savagery and civilization?" 

Well.

In Thinking About History Sarah Maza says,

"Turner's vision of early Americans marching into "free land" is today discredited by our awareness that in most cases the lands European pioneers trekked into and grabbed already had owners, namely indigenous peoples, and were not theirs to claim by right or destiny."

Nowadays we are also likely to recognize that areas described in the past by Europeans as "savage" and "uncivilized" did have civilizations, they were just not civilizations familiar to Europeans and therefore deemed savage. 

A Historian Who May Have Been Ready to Move on Even If American Culture Wasn't 

In How the Myth of the American Frontier Got Its Start, Colin Woodard says that Frederick Jackson Turner eventually rethought his frontier theory. 

"...he had been relying too narrowly on the experiences in his own region of the Upper Midwest, which had been colonized by a settlement stream originating in New England. In fact, he found, the values he had ascribed to the frontier's environmental conditioning were actually those of this Greater New England settlement culture..."

Turner is supposed to have spent years working on a project that didn't treat the frontier as some kind of unifying force but instead involved the differences among America's various sections. But, Woodard says, Turner was a procrastinator. The work was never completed.

Instead The Significance of the Frontier in American History continued to be taught for decades, promoting a belief in American characteristics involving individualism, democracy, and nationalism.  

______________________________________

*This link directs you to nine pages of excerpts, which is all I read.

The Reading History Project: "The Westerners: Myth-Making and Belonging on the American Frontier" by Megan Kate Nelson

The Westerners: Mythmaking and Belonging on the American Frontier by Megan Kate Nelson will be published March 31. I read a digital ARC provided by NetGalley.

This is a book that definitely addresses the "our" in "our shared history," my reading subject for this year.

Nelson begins in her prologue with an account of Frederick Jackson Turner's reading of The Significance of the Frontier in American History at a meeting of the American Historical Association in 1893. Turner argued that "...American history has been in a large degree the history of the colonization of the Great West." Nelson says that before Turner, most historians believed that Europe had the greatest impact on what America became. Turner's contention that America became America because of the "colonization of the Great West" by white people from the East was a shift in thinking for professional historians.

To give you some idea of how big a deal Turner and his theory of the American frontier became, I recall hearing at least something about it in high school. I've had a copy of The Significance of the Frontier in American History floating around my office for a year now. 

While it was new thinking in 1893 as far as professional history was concerned, Nelson says popular perception of the "Great West" supported Turner. Novels featured Indian fighters saving white families, painters romanticized Western landscapes, and government policies encouraged people in the East to go West. Turner was preaching to a choir that already believed a mythic frontier story involving white Americans moving West and bringing civilization with them.    

Some of Nelson's content moves on to the beginning of the twentieth century, but it is primarily laid out chronologically from the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 to that American Historical Association meeting in 1893 at which Frederick Jackson Turner read his paper. Along that timeline are what might be called a collection of microhistories, in this case the stories of people who lived in the West, people who didn't reflect the frontier myth. (Except for the one person who actually promoted it.) All these people are what we would consider today as minor historical figures, the most recognizable being Sacajawea. But they are also people who had some significance at the time they lived or were even well known then. Others wrote about them, or they left writing themselves. In her epilogue, Nelson describes what happened to them after death, a sad afterlife for people who didn't fit the Western myth narrative but were part of the West, nonetheless. 

My first thought while reading The Westerners was that I was ignorant of a great deal that happened in the western part of this country in the nineteenth century. That was probably Nelson's intention, and, if so, she was very successful in educating this reader. I was going to give some examples of the depth of what I didn't know but decided I didn't want to get into that.

My second thought was how different regional history must be for elementary school students in different parts of the country from what I was exposed to growing up in rural New England. At least, it should be different. 

In the very readable The Westerners Megan Kate Nelson replaces the myth of the Great West with a reality that is just as empowering, because it includes so many more people. It's a reality based on our shared history.

You can hear her speaking about the frontier myth at her publisher's website.

The Reading History Project: "Pedal Pusher" by Mary Boone. Watch Out for Women on Bikes!

Pedal Pusher: How One Woman's Bicycle Adventure Helped Change the World  by Mary Boone with illustrations by Lisa Anchin is a great subject for Women's History Month. For a couple of reasons.

Women on Bikes Were a Big Deal in the Late Nineteenth Century

First off, Pedal Pusher is described as a picture book biography, though it only deals with one period in Annie Cohen Kopchovsky's life. Kopchovsky was the first women to ride a bicycle around the world in 1894-95. Nowadays, this seems like a kind of meaningless stunt. And it may have been a stunt then, too. But bicycling was part of a cultural change for women, giving them more ability to get around and leading to changes in how they dressed, which was far more than just fashion. Kopchovsky represents all that.

I wonder, too, if she represents nineteenth century public relations and self-promotion. Kopchovsky seems to have been very adept at raising money for the trip by signing pictures and giving lectures as she traveled. Boone raises the question of whether or not Kopchovsky was one hundred percent accurate/truthful in her talks. Was she creating an Annie Cohen Kopchovsky for public consumption/sale?  

Which leads me to wonder about another aspect of the Annie Cohen Kopchovsky story. She was a Latvian Jewish immigrant at a time "when prejudice against Jewish people was widespread," as Boone tells readers. Soon after she began her trip, she temporarily changed her name to Londonderry in exchange for a donation from the Londonderry Spring Water Company. She appears as Annie Londonderry in the newspaper quotes Boone provides at the end of the book.

Would public interest have been as great in Kopchovsky if she had used her own name?

Pedal Pusher is a great introduction to its subject. But I want more! I want a movie! I want a Netflix limited series! 

Oh, But There is More

I bought a copy of Pedal Pusher, because I'm interested in the era involved and still have young people around who might read it. But what brought the book to my attention last October was an opinion piece author Mary Boone wrote for The Seattle Times. (I may have stumbled upon it on BlueSky.)

In it, Boone describes how during last year's Women's History Month, the Tacoma Children's Museum invited her to lead two story times about Pedal Pusher. She ran the first program at its downtown location, but the second was going to be held at the museum's site on Joint Base Lewis-McChord. A Federal site. And that one was cancelled four days before the event.

Boone was told "it violated the administration's executive order restricting so-called "radical" Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion programs across federal institutions." 

Hmm. Could that be Executive Order 14253 Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History she's talking about, since that specifically includes federal sites? The one covered here at Original Content back at the beginning of February? 

I have questions.

• If the story hour was cancelled because of Executive Order 14253 Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History, is there a claim here that the book isn't true? Annie Cohen Kopchovsky wasn't the first woman to ride a bicycle around the world? I'm not touching the sanity issue. I don't even know what it means in the context of the executive order.
• Otherwise, what was "radical" about the book? It was about a woman? It was about a Jew? It was about a Jewish woman who did something successfully? 
• Or I could phrase that a different way: It wasn't about a man? It wasn't about a Christian? It wasn't about a Christian man who did something successfully?

The Power of One Voice

I have a long history of obsessing on the wrong point in a story, and I am probably about to do that right now. In her article about the cancellation of her appearance Boone writes, "Someone complained when they saw my story time being promoted."  "... museum staff later suggested the event might have gone forward if it hadn't been advertised." 

This program was cancelled because one person heard about it and complained? Now, on the one hand, that's a very positive thing, isn't it? It suggests that any one of us can complain and have an impact. We can get the ball rolling to take attention away from books we object to.

But doesn't it also suggest that any one of us can have an impact by speaking out in support of and bringing attention to books we appreciate? Which is what I'm trying to do here.

One voice can make a difference. Imagine the kind of difference many voices could make.

Pardon me while I leave to spread the word about Pedal Pusher on Facebook, BlueSky, and Goodreads. 

The Reading History Project: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard

 I am writing today about Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President by Candice Millard even though I haven't read it. What I did do was watch Death by Lightening the Netflix limited series based upon it. The series is marvelous.

Both book and series deal with the assassination of President James Garfield, who is just a name to most of us, because he was shot a few months after his inauguration, lingering on for a while thereafter. In Death by Lightening Garfield is portrayed as an incredibly decent man. Charles Guiteau, his killer, is tragically unbalanced. Chester A. Arthur turns up, which was a surprise because I didn't know he was Garfield's vice-president. Here he is shown as realizing he's a pretty lousy character, but a lousy character with a shred of human decency.

Death by Lightening was well-reviewed when it was released.  I don't know how well it did as far as attracting viewers is concerned. The fact that we know how the story ends could have discouraged some people. I must admit I've never seen Titanic, because, well, everyone knows the ship sinks.

This story, as good as it is, might be just that, a good historical story. But the TV series does link its ending to something bigger than a tragic tale. Garfield has an interest in dealing with the patronage system used in his day but dies long before he can do so. After Chester A. Arthur becomes president, he does do something about it. 

Destiny of the Republic is also very well-reviewed. I've read it may cover more about Chester A. Arthur, with whom I am now a bit obsessed, and it may include more of the political repercussions of Garfield's death.

I suspect reading it is somewhere in my future.

The Reading History Project: "Thinking About History" by Sarah Maza

I wanted to start my reading history project with some reading about history, which is exactly what Thinking About History by Sarah Maza is. In my history journal (something I will write about here at some point) I describe the book as being about how historians do history, how it has been done in the past, and how the doing of history has changed. (What can we expect from a journal entry?) Maza also covers different types of historians, something that is a relatively recent development. 

I think I may be referring to this book off-and-on this year in relation to other books I read, but for now I'll touch on some of what Maza says about the "history of history," because I think it could help make sense of some of the present-day controversy over how we view history and what we consider to be appropriate history.

Saying Good-bye to the Good Old Days of Nineteenth Century History

I like the nineteenth century, myself. I see it as a period when a great deal was happening in various fields and a period when knowledge was appreciated. By the end of the nineteenth century, it was a period when the world was getting ready to transition into the twentieth century. Things were going to change!

Or maybe not.

According to Maza, in the nineteenth century practitioners of many fields of study were interested in professionalizing, and history was no different. Historians wanted their work to be considered scientific like the other academic fields. Maza says, "...scholars assumed that a scientifically examined source could yield only one meaning..."  That kind of uniformity is easy to understand because from the end of the nineteenth century until the mid-twentieth century history departments "were extremely homogeneous workplaces peopled by white male Protestant scholars from upper-class backgrounds." They tended to value the same kind of history--political and military, for instance, and focused on great men who, coincidently, were frequently white, Protestant males like them.  

But in the second half of the twentieth century, the academic world opened up as women entered colleges in greater numbers and the GI Bill brought nearly 8 million men from different backgrounds to campuses in its first twelve years. Some of these new people became historians who were interested in a broader range of topics: labor history, women's history, gay and lesbian history, and environmental history, for instance. You name the subject, it has a past that can be studied. 

In this period, "the history of things" also became important. Food ... clothing ... the natural environment... I am particularly interested in "things," and will direct your attention to Waste and Want: A Social History of Trash by Susan Strasser, which I liked. (Social history. That's another whole subject Maza addresses.) 

As long as we're on the subject of the history of things, I'll also mention The Victorian Internet: The Remarkable Story of the Telegraph and the Nineteenth Century's On-line Pioneers by Tom Standage. 

These two examples illustrate that we are no longer talking "the history of leaders, political elites, and state-related activities," which is how Maza says nineteenth and even early twentieth century historians thought of their field. 

You Can't Go Back to the Past, Folks

But "the history of leaders, political elites, and state-related activities" may be how some people in the present do want to think of history. Over the last couple of years, we've been hearing talk of manifest destiny and the Monroe Doctrine, concepts from the nineteenth century. There's also been talk of the present administration turning to eighteenth and nineteenth century laws to support its actions. Last year's Executive Order 14253 Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History raised the question of just what truth and sanity American history should be restored to. Should we be turning to the nineteenth century for that, also, and looking, again, for the history of leaders, political elites, and state-related activities?

Oh, please, no.

While there are concerns right now about groups who had been lost to history being lost again if  present-day lawmakers are able to impose restrictions on public historical sites and schools, I think there's a limit to how far they'll be able to get with that. The reason? History without those groups is boring.

That's right, "the history of leaders, political elites, and state-related activities" is boring. All the time I was studying history in college, I was hearing about how boring it was from people who didn't care for it. "Memorizing dates" was how it was viewed. To some extent the boring argument is true. What makes it boring is not the dates but that there's a limit to how much interest anyone can maintain in the leaders and political elites who had little to do with our ancestors' lives. We only care about the history of royal figures if there's sex and weird stuff involved. Would anyone care about Queen Victoria if she wasn't portrayed as having a love interest with whom she had a great many children? I think not.

Over the last half century, the past has become far more about how everyone lived than what a few people did. There's a circular aspect to history now, in my humble opinion. We see history now as the impact of individuals on events and the impact of events on individuals. All individuals. Many of these individuals are unknown to most of us because of their ethnicity, employment, gender, religion, and more, and thus they are very, very not boring.

History is a pandora's box and the lid has been opened. It's going to be very difficult for anyone to shut it again. Especially if we all keep reading.

  

The Reading History Project: What I'll Be Reading in 2026

Reading history is an interest of mine. It probably got started before I was reading much, when I was watching TV Westerns with my father and then gladiator movies that played late in the afternoon on one of the three TV stations we had access to in rural Vermont. Actual reading history started as a teenager, when I read my fair share of historical romance but also these enormous tomes on royal figures from centuries back and family stories that covered generations. 

A pivotal moment in reading history for me came in my freshman year of college when my History of Western Civilization professor told us why his license plate said "Bodo."  All his students were expected to know this. Bodo was a ninth century peasant living in St.-Germain-des-Prés. (That is all I know about St.-Germain-des-Prés. Bodo lived there.) He gets an entire chapter in Medieval People by Eileen Power, which I still own.

Gauthiers: Like Bodo but different

Bodo is all I remember from that class. What I got from the professor's license plate story was that history is not just about the great and mighty of this world. It is also about people who might have been my ancestors. People who were not at all great or mighty. Not even close.  

America's 250th Anniversary and Executive Order 14253

The United States is approaching its 250th anniversary, a good reason to focus on reading history this year. But another good reason might be the little historical brouhaha that came up last year after President Donald Trump issued Executive Order 14253 Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History. Please read it yourself, but some highlights:

"It is the policy of my Administration to restore Federal sites dedicated to history, including parks and museums, to solemn and uplifting public monuments that remind Americans of our extraordinary heritage, consistent progress toward becoming a more perfect Union, and unmatched record of advancing liberty, prosperity, and human flourishing."

That paragraph ends with "Museums in our Nation's capital should be places where individuals go to learn—not to be subjected to ideological indoctrination or divisive narratives that distort our shared history."  

"Ideological indoctrination" is a very loaded expression, and after reading the whole executive order, one might wonder who is trying to ideologically indoctrinate whom and with what ideology. Also, who is the "our" in "our shared history?"

Last year there were concerns about the present administration whitewashing history or reshaping it. The concerns continue, though they now have to compete with all the other concerns that have turned up since last March when Trump signed 14253.

Keep in mind that whatever is going on historically as far as the U.S. government is concerned, this particular order 14253 deals only with Federal sites. (History in schools is impacted by another, earlier executive order.) For now, at least, publishers, booksellers, and private museums are not touched.

That puts those of us who read history in a position, maybe not of power, but of advocacy. We can still read any work of history that we want to. We can support any type of historian we want to support, either by buying their books or spreading word of them. 

By reading as much history as we can, we create the possibility that we, and other history readers like us, will retain it no matter what else happens to it. By educating ourselves, we act. 

The Reading History Project

My reading history this year:

• Will be somewhat random. I want to enjoy this, and I have a lot of different histories on my TBR iPad.
• Will probably lean toward the nineteenth century, since that's a favorite period for me right now. Sorry Revolutionary Era!
• Will probably lean toward groups who were not in positions of great power. Remember my Bodo story. I have what is known as a cognitive bias. I tend to read things that play to my interests. I don't believe I've read a great dead white man bio since Fawn M. Brodie's Thomas Jefferson: An Intimate History, originally published in 1974. It was controversial at the time, because it was the first popular biography of Jefferson to address his relationship with Sally Hemings, a woman he owned. DNA would later prove Brodie right. 

Some upcoming books:

Thinking About History by Sarah Maza. I'm nearly done with this. An unusual book in that it is exactly what I was looking for.

Speaking of whitewashing, as we were recently, I've just started reading Black AF History: The Un-whitewashed Story of America by Michael Harriot. 

The Westerners: Mythmaking and Belonging on the American Frontier by Megan Kate Nelson will be published in April. I have a galley from NetGalley,  will be reading it this spring, and writing about it closer to publication.

That's the plan, folks. And don't I love a plan!