Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Some of the Greatest Geniuses Went to Slumber Parties


In the 1910s-'30s they had what were known as child study groups. Basically, a group of mothers (and sometimes fathers) would gather to hear about the latest research into child development and discuss some assigned reading. I've found some minutes from a New York City group dating from 1931. The discussion topic: homosexuality. One member of the group worried, "Young people today say, 'We don't think anything [negative] about these people. They are just as good as anybody else and some of the greatest geniuses have been homosexuals.' " The task was disabusing the kids of that notion. "The whole idea can be gotten across to the growing child that if there is someone in difficulty it is not our business to stone them but to understand what the difficulties are and to see whether we can help them," explained the leader. "In that way you take away any feeling of exaltation in regard to these people[.]" Hey, no more stoning! Yay!

And "exaltation," yes indeedy. Throughout the minutes of these meetings, the members repeatedly refer to the "glamor" [sic] of homosexuality (sometimes called inversion). In Gay New York, George Chauncey discusses "mainstream" fascination with "the fairy" in the first half of the twentieth century. It's still an amazing read, nearly fifteen years after it was first published. But naturally, he doesn't write about lesbians, because lesbians are "invisible," damn it! I'm sure he tried really hard to find them. Nonetheless, it was very surprising to me that life for gay men in New York was ever anything but life in the closet. It wasn't true. There were African American drag balls discussed in "straight" newspapers and so forth. "Fairies" were visible all over the urban landscape. So what I've found is that in the 1930s the kids also knew about the gays and were cool with it. Adults couldn't shield their eyes from it. (Was it Walter Pater or John Addington Symonds who came up with the line about genius? No matter.)

OK, long quotation time! The members of the child study meetings I am talking about discussed many things about homosexuality, but they were especially concerned about warning signs. And lo and behold, they talked more about girls than boys. Take that, gay male historians! Invisible, my ass. Here's how the leader of the group explained "crushes."

A mother in one of our study groups was very much concerned because her daughter wanted to go to a friend's house to stay all night where the two girls would have to sleep together. The daughter was fifteen and a half and had plenty of boy friends and was perfectly normal but the mother was afraid to let her sleep with her friend. Girls have always slept together but they didn't necessarily become homosexuals.

But suppose we have a girl who by and large does not find much companionship and she likes to sit by herself and do things by herself. She doesn't see boys and they don't see her, but she begins to find pleasure in girls and gets so she worships some girl or woman. I know of one girl who stopped biting her nails because she dedicated one hand to one loved girl friend and the other hand to another. Don't you see what a different picture this is than the two normal girls who just wanted to spend the night in each other's homes? With one picture we should be concerned and not with the other.


Wow, the fingernails! That's the kind of detail historians kill for. It raises so many questions about the nature of affection between teenage girls at that time in history and provides so many clues about things like parent-child relationships and girls' culture. Like, how did this woman's daughter come to tell her mom about her new fingernail habits? I'm guessing that she was a compulsive nail-biter and one day suddenly stopped, and her mom noticed and asked her why. I wonder if the cessation of nail biting was just the girl's idea, or whether all her friends were doing it too—doesn't it sound like one of those school fads? It also might speak to the nature of how people understood "compulsions" in relation to homosexuality. The women in this group were definitely up to date with the latest in psychoanalytic theories, one of which was that nail biting was an oral fixation that betokened an arrest of sexual development. So in the popular understanding, maybe nail biting could lead to homosexuality. Modern parenting: it's always been one big hairball of anxiety.

I don't want to speculate about the answers to all of these questions—that's not my job. I've read enough to know that in some cases girls were just sleeping in the same bed and in others they were "sleeping" in the same bed, if you get my drift. But do girls now sleep in the same bed when they sleep over? If not, that also represents historical change. It could be that parents got the homosexual-panic bug at some point and came to forbid it. It also occurs to me that as people moved to the suburbs, houses just got bigger, and there might have been room for more beds. That's the kind of thing that will take more research.

People always want to know for sure what girls were doing in those beds. A generalization, I think, is impossible, and also pretty pointless. Although I've been tempted to do otherwise, I prefer to let it go unsaid.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

The Poetry of Pathology


I come across a lot of personality inventories, IQ tests, and the like in my work, but today I found something called the Chicago Sustained Application Profile in a book of a social worker's case histories from 1933.

A study of the sustained-application profile in history showed constant interruption of her own thoughts, as if she did not quite understand what she was doing. It was to be noted especially that she was working most of the time, but it was not purposeful study. She spent a few minutes on the notes, another few minutes reading the book, and then a few minutes writing, then back to the notes.


This case might as well be labeled "Case No. 123: CheeseQuest," because as readers of this blog no doubt know, this pretty much describes my intellectual method. What struck me about the case study in this book were the diagrams of this girl's attention patterns. They're sort of like vertical frequency-wave graphs: they show two columns, "Distraction" and "Application," with a line that weaves back and forth between the two. When the subject crosses the line into Distraction, the graph notes her action. The names of these actions struck me as unintentional poetry (kind of like the "poetry" of Donald Rumsfeld back in the day). So I give you four poems of the Chicago Sustained Application Profile.

"History Class, Dec. 2"
Turns around
Erases
Looks at notes
Looks at notes
Erases
Looks at notes
Turns sheets of notes
Turns leaves of book
Picks up pocketbook
Puts head on her hands

"History Class, Dec. 8"
Looks on paper
Scratches head
Turns back her notes
Looks at clock
Looks up
Scratches head
Looks ahead
Fills the pen
Looks at guide sheet
Handles several books
Picks up another book

"Study Period, Dec. 1"
Smooths hair
Restless
Restless
Restless

"Study Period, Dec. 2"
Dreams
Rests
Idle

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Better to Marry Than to Burn

I'm trying to piece together a theory about psychiatry in the mid-1930s. The idea is that experts (and many lay people) thought there was a reserve of sexual energy in each one of us and we have to find some way to let it out. These "outlets" could render you well adjusted (i.e., if you were engaged in married heterosexual coitus) or maladjusted (i.e., anything else). But everyone needed an outlet of some sort, and if an individual found this outlet in, for example, solitary masturbation or homosexuality, well, it wasn't very healthy, but it was often understandable. It all depended on how your desires were channeled during early childhood. Just your basic Freudian vitalism, I guess.

The one thing that really threatened these experts, I think, was celibacy. It was one of the most important causes (and effects!) of neurosis. Celibacy wasn't so much a choice as the result of negative psychosexual growth. The people whose work I'm studying regarded it as "immaturity."

With this realization, I naturally went on one of my research digressions. There is a relatively new history of celibacy out there. But the idea of celibacy brought to mind the Catholic clergy, so I decided to go to the source: I Corinthians 7. (I have the King James Version, which the Catholic clergy wouldn't use, but whatever. The link above will take you to a site where you can get more translations of the Bible than you can imagine.) This chapter is the kind of Paul everyone demonizes: virginity, virginity, virginity; don't leave your husband, etc. But it also deals with the idea behind priestly celibacy that I learned in CCD (what the Protestants call Sunday school): "He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife" (32-33).

Paul also goes on about celibacy among the laity: "...I would that all men were even as I myself [celibate]. But every man hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and another after that. I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn."

That passage has stuck with me for the last week or so. The 1930s psychiatrists always struck me as trying so hard to be forward-thinking, but in some ways it looks like they were drawing on much older sources and traditions. I have no idea what biblical criticism was like in the 1930s, but I wonder.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Fortune Smiles


Direct from Missouri, the first impression of the 1953 edition of the Girl Scout Handbook arrived on my doorstep this morning. Pressed between its leaves were not one, not two, but three four-leaf clovers. I'm beside myself.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

First Impressions

One of my professors told me that one of his students bought all of his sources on Abe Books for like $1. I now believe it. I just ordered the first impression of the Girl Scout Handbook, 1953 edition, for $1 plus $4.99 shipping.

Yes, ILL is free, but ILL sucks.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

History of the Book/Cookie Pushers Redux


I was hoping to avoid another archive trip to finish this article, but it looks like I'm going to have to go. Part of this project is to compare two editions of a book. Or rather, two printings of a book—specifically, the Girl Scout Handbook; more specifically, the fourth and sixth impressions. (I'd also like to see the fifth, of course, but I'm pretty sure the most significant changes happened between the fourth and the sixth.) So it would seem that a trip to the Girl Scouts archive is in order. I feel tired just thinking about it.

Interlibrary loan: my savior, and the bane of my existence. I requested "the 1953 edition" of the Girl Scout Handbook. Little did I know that it had gone through so many impressions. The one ILL got me was from late 1955. But it's the right "edition," so I guess I can't be mad.

Ever wonder about those Girl Scouts? Where did they get their marching orders from? Let's peruse the 1953 handbook (eighth impression, November 1955) and see if we can find out.

According to a report submitted to Congress, the most popular Girl Scout badge in 1953 was Cook. (What, not Truck Gardener?!) To earn this badge, a Girl Scout had to "Prepare a breakfast, lunch, or supper for your family or patrol." Now, lots of scholars have jumped all over the Girl Scouts for trying to mold girls into compliant homemakers. But my subversive reading of this badge requirement is that the handbook offers "patrol" as a legitimate alternative to "family": a chosen community of girl peers gets equal billing with a bio family. Let's see, what else. "Cook eggs in three different ways." Hmmm, an activity that undercuts ovobinarisms. Moving on: "Make cocoa with three kinds of milk and decide which kind you prefer." While the signifying Other (the dark "cocoa") here is singular, and outnumbered and thus dominated by the plural, decidedly Eurocentric subject (the light "milk"), the passage also suggests a post-racial hybridity in which the Other can be both "pure" ("unmixed" cocoa powder) and "mongrel" (milkified cocoa for drinking); moreover, one's hybridity may be chosen.

Just for fun, let's open the book at random and see what badge we get. OK, how about Wood? You'll be interested to know the badge pictures a totem pole. Oh, this is great! One of the three absolute requirements to earn this badge: "Make some article of wood for the comfort of your animal friends." I don't know why, but "litter box" comes to mind. Mine would for sure have a totem pole on it.

Here's one called Minstrel—ulp! It's 1955, I don't know what we're in for. Ah, phew, nothing to do with minstrel shows (thank you, Girl Scouts, thank you). "Write a story about the meistersingers in Germany, troubadours in France and Spain, or minstrels of England. Learn several of their songs." Do I have to sing them too?

Finally, Clerk. Oh dear. Absolute requirements: "Dramatize the courteous way to approach salespeople, to wait on people, and to receive visitors in an office"; "Learn how to use and care for the following: typewriter, hand-stapling machine, fountain pen, and automatic pencil. Be able to read a postal scale"; "In a skit show how to apply for a job." According to eBay, this is a rare badge. I guess I'm happy for that. I wonder if the seller can read a postal scale to know how much to charge for shipping!

I'd write more, but I have to go learn to care for my automatic pencil.