Tracy Revels

Yet Another Reason Why I Love My Ancient World Class

Throughout the semester, students in Ancient World have been presenting reports on various aspects of daily life in Egypt, Greece, and Rome.  We've learned about mummification, the original Olympics, and the basic training of Spartan warriors and Roman centurions.  Each group concluded its presentation with some type of class activity.

The last presentation was on gladiators.  My students got into the action---literary.  The two young men built gladiator costumes and put on a duel in front of Old Main.  I'm sure the parents who were arriving for Phi Beta Kappa initiation wondered WHAT was going on! (Maybe they think you have to really fight for high grades at Wofford.)  Weapons were shattered, and the trident-bearing gladiator was sacrificed to the displeasure of the crowd and the empress (me).

Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera to record the actual duel!  However, Kyle and John brought part of their costumes to class on Tuesday to pose for a picture.  I'm not sure how authentic John's backpack is, but the class agreed that these warriors deserved high marks for their take on 'bread and circuses.'

Still Learning

One of my former departmental colleagues could always be found in his office, reading, every afternoon.  When I asked him why he was so diligent, he told me that it was a personal goal to read almost 100 pages of history a day!  And he made a point to read new things, in different historical subjects, because he was committed to lifelong learning.  It certainly made him a great professor---everyone, from students to colleagues, was impressed with the vast amount of information he commanded.

Since I've been at Wofford, I've met many people who practice the gospel of 'never stop learning.'  They read, attend lectures, watch films, and make it a point to keep their minds open.  Some are students (and nothing thrills an academic heart like a student who says 'no, I'm not a major in this subject, but I thought I'd take the class because I think it's interesting!).  Others are faculty members, or work as staff.  At Wofford, just because someone works with his or her hands doesn't mean he or she isn't also exercising the mind.  I've had fascinating conversations with custodians about history and sociology.  Wofford is a community where teaching and learning flows in many different directions.

To try to live up to what I preach, I've been practicing photography, which I hope will help me in my upcoming work on tourism.  (My goal is to eventually illustrate my writings.)  I get depressed when I load the pictures and they're boring or out of focus, but my Wofford tutors keep telling me that I may have to take a thousand shots before I find one or two that I like.  So in the spirit of learning and perseverance, I'll illustrate this entry with this pretty determined little fellow, familiar to everyone on campus.  

The Southern Road Home

Friends and alumni of the Wofford History Department know that Dr. Racine is retiring this year.  He has taught many classes over four decades of service.  He has become famous for his courses on the Antebellum and New South eras, and downright legendary for his Civil War seminar.  A few days ago, I overheard someone expressing concern that there would be no more 'Southern history' offered at Wofford once he retires.

That's very definitely NOT the case!  Any time a faculty colleague retires, the remaining department members take a good look at the curriculum.  Classes get passed around and sometimes redefined.  We've always offered Historical Methods, but who teaches it and how it is taught has changed over time.  The same thing will happen with Dr. Racine's classes.  Things will shift around, and the biggest shift will be in my direction.

When people ask me what my field is, I'm forced to give them a rather round-about answer.  I was trained as a Southern historian with a focus on Florida history.  But over the years, my interests and research have shaped me as a 19th century Southern and women's historian.  My second book brought these multiple interests together by examining Florida women's work during the Civil War. This summer, I'll be looking more at Southern regional development through the promotion of tourism, which will nudge me into 20th century studies.  But the one thing that has remained constant is that I'm a Southern historian, through and through.  Everything I love about the past, and really understand about history, has a drawl attached.

In the Fall, I'll be teaching my American women's history class.  After that, the door is open for me to take on a number of classes that were once in Dr. Racine's rotation.  I'll be offering the Southern courses and the Civil War, as well as retaining the specialized classes on slavery and the frontier.  My new colleague, Dr. Ken Banks, will be picking up some of the classes that I once offered, among them Colonial history, which is his specialization.  He will also return something to the schedule that we've been missing for a number of years, a class on African history.

Every one of us has a special way of teaching; none of us are in any way replacements for the others.  Each professor brings a special set of skills and approaches.  And yes, Dr. Racine has big shoes to fill and I'm plenty nervous about what the first time through Old South and Civil War will be like.  I have so much work to do to get ready for these classes; the amount of reading is mind-boggling at this moment.  Yet at the same time, it's exciting because Southern history is my field.  While I've enjoyed frontier, colonial, and even ancient world classes, this is the road home.

The Racine Machine

In many occupations, a retiree is honored with a party and a gold watch.  At Wofford, a retiring professor might be honored with a reception and a rocking chair.  This year,the Wofford history majors decided on a new and different way to honor Dr. Philip N. Racine, who is retiring after forty years of service---they decorated aTerrio golf cart with his image.  The cart was covered in pictures that spanned the decades and festooned with signs listing Dr. Racine's classes and even some of his 'salty' sayings.  Best of all, the cart sported an Abe Lincoln/Phil Racine style beard!  Two of the majors even re-shaped their own facial hair to mimic their hero, while others (including the male faculty members) sported fake beards.  Dressed in sports coats and ties, with tags proclaiming 'Hi, My Name Is Phil Racine' the department and the students took to the track, to cheer for Shelby Bayliss and Dr. Clayton Whisnant as they piloted the 'Racine Machine.'

Unfortunately, the cart came in third in the time trials, and Wofford only recognizes 'win and place' but not 'show.'  (Something should be done about this!!!!)  However, the vehicle was a big winner with Dr. Racine (who knew nothing about this until just before the race) and Mrs. Racine, who was alerted this morning and came to Wofford watch the fun.

A Crisis Of Imaginary Proportions?

At the first of the semester, Dr. Terry Ferguson asked me to join a faculty reading group.  The book under consideration is The Weather Makers by Tim Flannery.  The tome's topic is climate change and global warming.  Needless to say, there's a lot of science in this book. I last took a science class in 1982, and the only thing I remember from it is I shouldn't spell 'beetles' as 'beatles' because that's a rock band, not a bunch of bugs.  So a lot of the time I'm left in the academic dust of our discussion group, struggling just to keep up with the concepts.

But as we talked today---and our talks are always lively, because that's what you get when you put a bunch of science, math, business, computer and humanities types together---I couldn't shake a nagging fear that I have.  I've had it before, but it bubbled back up to the surface today.

To think about potential ecological crises of vast proportions requires imagination.  If you can't imagine what the consequences of species loss might be, or envision how citizens of a major metropolis would react to suddenly having no water, then it's hard to get riled up about debates on the nature and severity of climate change.  If your view of the future is limited to what you'll eat for dinner, then how can you be motivated to become an activist for planet earth?  Or for any worthy cause?

And what about our students---do they have the kind of imaginations necessary to perceive of both a potential disastor and its possible solutions?

I do think that Wofford students can be exceptionally creative.  I also believe they can be highly motivated, and that they can use those wonderful young imaginations to solve problems and to work for a better world.  The recent success of the ONE campaign speaks to their mental agility as well as to their big hearts.  But at times, when I ask a class how many of them like to read, or write stories or poems, or draw pictures, or simply fantasize about the future, I get dull, glassy-eyed looks.  Even worse, I often register waves of disgust, as if I've asked them to go for a weekend without checking Facebook or text-messaging.  And that, gentle readers, disturbs me deeply.

Maybe it's because I can't imagine NOT imagining!  As a historian, I have to build entire worlds from fragments of documents, from blurred photographs or idealized portraits.  I have to spin it all into a story in order to grasp it, to look for a meaning.  Or maybe it's because I grew up as an only child, spending long months on the farm without peers and playmates.  I'm not even claiming to be very good at this art; let's face it, I'm most likely not going to write the great American novel.  But the stories in my head never stop. I can close my eyes and try to mentally delve into 'deep time'---the 70 million year old fossilized tooth I wear as a necklace (crafted for me by a scientist, no less!) helps with that.  I can populate nineteenth century London or frontier Florida on a movie screen in my mind.  And maybe that's why this book scares me, because I CAN visual this Gulf Stream failing or Australia going dry.  And maybe it's wrong to expect nineteen year olds to have that ability, because their lives are so intense, so real in this moment---why should I belabor them to mentally step either behind or beyond this second in their universe?

Possibly they're better 'imagineers' than I realize.  Maybe I just ask them questions on bad days.  Perhaps it's 'all in my head.'  I sure hope so.

Happy Easter

And a big good wish for a wonderful springtime!  Here's a sign of the season in South Carolina.

Amazing Images

Professor G.R. Davis, my colleague in the Biology Department, travelled to South Africa last month.  Dr. Davis is far too modest to say this, so I'll say it---he is a gifted photographer.  In fact, the Biology Department seems to be fertile ground for talented shutterbugs!  As proof, I'm linking two sets of images, because I hope they will reach a wider audience through this blog.  These 'men of science' see the world in unique and interesting ways.

First, a sample of Dr. Davis' photos of his trip.  For even more images, check out his personal webpage on the Wofford website!

http://webs.wofford.edu/davisgr/CIEE2009/ciee2009web/artsy.htm

And here's a collection of Dr. John Moeller's work, photos of California, his native state.  Like Dr. Davis, Dr. Moeller also has a webpage with many unique pictures.

http://webs.wofford.edu/moellerjf/California_december_2008/index2.htm

Hanging Out With Ghosts

I'm fond of amusing (and horrifying) students by beginning a class with the announcement "I love dead people!" But for historians I don't think it's optional to be infatuated with folks who have 'gone to their reward' already. Most historians have a crazy affinity for the men and women we can follow only distantly, through their documents, their portraits, their artifacts, and their deeds.

It's all a matter of how dead you want them---just a little (to be a 20th century historian) or whole lot (an ancient historian). I guess because I prefer the 19th century, I like them a medium bit of deceased. Of course, there are historians of living people. I won't say that's cheating; I will say it's a very challenging thing to be a historian when your subjects can still talk back to you!

So for all my students who used to laugh at me and call me crazy, here's proof from Spring Break that you're right. It was a cold day in Laurens so I didn't pause to write down this gent's name, but I think I'll have to go back for it because he certainly has me haunted. That's another great thing about being a historian---the ghosts who flit between memory and imagination will always follow you home.

A New Place For The People Who Keep Us Looking Good!

Over the break, I paid a visit to the old Cumming Street school, where our maintenance department is now housed.  The people who care for the Wofford physical plant have a big new home, with lots of space for storage and a large woodworking shop.  Our custodial and maintenance staff has made a lot of moves in the last couple of years.  I felt so sorry for them when they were housed in the Black Science Annex because my office was there while Old Main was being renovated.  Back then, the BSA had roaches who considered it their turf and were known to sport leather jackets and Mohawks!  A lot of work has been done on that building recently, but I still have frightening flashbacks when I cross its threshold.

Wofford's caretakers now have a much better home for all their equipment.  Mr. Grice showed me the shops, the break rooms, and the nice offices.  Out back is a space that was once a football field, with concrete steps overgrown with grass.  Mr. Grice referred to it as the 'Roman Coliseum.'  I guess the idea of Wofford providing a classical education is always with us, even in the most unexpected of places!

A Sign I Couldn't Resist Responding To

A Spring Break outing to the Greenville Zoo was a lot of fun yesterday.  Maybe it will help me be mentally prepared for the 'zoo' that is the final month of classes.  

In the meanwhile, I thought some of my former students, who know that I'm a Seminole, would appreciate this picture!