History Slam Episode Seventy-Nine: Open Access

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By Sean Graham

Open AccessThere are certain universal experiences that go along with being involved in academics, one of which is explaining the publishing model of academic journals. This is particularly difficult for grad students, who, upon their first publication, are confronted by family members wondering how much they got paid. It’s a well meaning question, but it’s a bit of a downer to have to explain how academic publishing works and that, as today’s guest aptly puts it, it’s a gift culture. The work is done in the pursuit of knowledge with the primary goal not being monetary gain, but rather having the information available for public consumption.

Recently, that final point has increasingly been scrutinized by the Open Access movement, which is explored by Peter Suber in this openly accessible book. More and more scholars are moving away from journals with paid subscriptions in favour of open access publications. Sometimes that’s not possible, however, which is why some institutions are requiring their faculty to put copies of their publications in open access repositories in their libraries.

At Harvard University the push towards open access has been led by the Office for Scholarly Communication, which has been able to get each school to agree to participate in its open access repository. Through Digital Access to Scholarship at Harvard (DASH), publications by Harvard faculty are freely available to anyone. The site has been quite successful since its launch, recently surpassing 7 million downloads. They also maintain an Open Access Directory, which includes listings of open access materials and different funding models for open access journals.
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Investment for Development: The Plodding History of Canadian Development Finance

(Active History is pleased to present today’s post in partnership with aidhistory.ca)

Jill Campbell-Miller

Diefenbaker at the Prime Minister’s Commonwealth Conference in 1960. Diefenbaker was anxious to develop economic connections with the Commonwealth, but few opportunities to do so existed outside of joint aid initiatives. Wikimedia Commons.

Diefenbaker at the Prime Minister’s Commonwealth Conference in 1960. Diefenbaker was anxious to develop economic connections with the Commonwealth, but few opportunities to do so existed outside of joint aid initiatives. Wikimedia Commons.

In the area of development finance Canada has lagged behind its international partners in the G7, only promising to establish a development finance institution (DFI) in the 2015 budget, some 67 years after the UK established the first DFI. This might come as surprise, since blending the interests of domestic Canadian businesses and official development assistance (ODA) has been an objective of the Canadian government since the early days of aid-giving in the 1950s, to the delight of some, and the dismay of others.

The apparent Canadian disinterest in the potential of development finance goes back to 1958. Continue reading

The Ninth Floor: Finding Black Power in Montreal

By Camille Robert
Translated by Thomas Peace

This review originally appeared in French on Artichaut magazine and HistoireEngagee.ca

Kennedy Frederick speaking at student assembly at Sir George Williams. (From NFB Interview with Welwyn Jacob, click for link)

Kennedy Frederick speaking at student assembly at Sir George Williams. (Photo from NFB interview with producer Selwyn Jacob, click for link)

In many way, the image of Montreal in the 1960s is defined by the 1967 World’s Fair. Often celebrated as one of the key moments in the Quiet Revolution, official imagery of the city situated it as a centre-point in a modernized and globalized world. This rosy summertime image, however, is snowed over when we consider Montreal’s immigrant population and their direct relationships to the colonial processes that underlay Expo ’67.

This is the subject of Mina Shum’s The Ninth Floor. Focusing on the key leaders in the “Sir George Williams Affair,” Shum’s film argues that while Expo ’67 might have been a pivotal moment warmly caressing the city’s official self-image, the occupation of the ninth floor of the Henry F. Hall building at Sir George Williams University (today Concordia University) exposed a colder reality, marking an important moment in the history of Montreal’s Black Power movement. Continue reading

Virtual Histories of Disability and Assistive Devices

Introduction to the Exhibit by Dominique Marshall on behalf of Carleton University’s Disabilities Research Group

Machines of the past hold many of the secrets for designers of future technologies. This is why in the 1960s, a mechanic from Gatineau with 2% vision, personally collected precious old Braille printing machines.  Roland Galarneau laboured in his basement for over a decade, in a workshop of his own extraordinary making, to train himself in mechanical work in the short term, with the ambition of revolutionizing reading for students who were blind in the longer term. Many inventions and a quarter of century later, with the support of individuals, public institutions and private enterprises, Galarneau came up with an automated convertor of text into braille which would be sold worldwide.[1]  He later donated his antiques to the Canadian Science and Technology Museum (CSTM) in Ottawa, including the first prototype of the “Converto-Braille”, a teleprinter Galarneau made in part with telephone relays procured by his colleagues working at nearby Bell Canada and Northern Electric.[2]

Galarneau’s inventions and others will be included within Envisioning Technologies, a virtual exhibit in the making that is dedicated to telling the stories of both users and innovators who have influenced and helped shape educational technologies for persons who are blind or partially sighted in Canada, from the nineteenth-century to the present. This latest Active History exhibit will provide a preview of some of the objects and stories that will comprise Envisioning Technologies, with the hopes of extending the conversation to a wider community of historians and the public before the official launch of the website in the spring. Continue reading

Marjorie Stinson, the Flying Schoolmarm

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By Liz Millward

On December 4, 1915 Joseph Gorman of Ottawa graduated from the Stinson Flying School at San Antonio, Texas, and returned to Canada in order to sign up with the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS). He was the first graduate for twenty-one year-old Marjorie Stinson, the instructor who taught him to fly in the record time of two weeks (totalling about four hours of flying time). Some years later Stinson reflected that “perhaps I might never have begun teaching men to fly had it not been for a group of youngsters who feared the war would be over before they could get into a fight.”[1] Unable to get sufficient hours in at the Wright Flying School at Dayton, Ohio, Gorman and three other Canadian men wired Stinson “asking if I would take them on. I wired back a ‘yes’ and down they came before I was quite ready for them.”[2] Stinson’s story, which will make an appearance at the War in the Air exhibition curated by John Maker at the Canadian War Museum in 2016, provides a fascinating glimpse into the excitement and sense of possibility generated by the confused scramble of wartime regulators to make sense of new technologies.

CFWW Millward - Katherine Stinson and her Curtiss aeroplane - small

Katherine Stinson (sister of Marjorie) and her Curtiss airplane. Wikipedia

Together with her sister Katherine and brothers Edward and Jack, Stinson was a member of what came to be described in the press as the “Flying Family.” Katherine was the first member of this family who learned to fly, in 1912 under the tutelage of Max Lille. In May 1913 she incorporated the “Stinson Aviation Company” to manufacture aeroplanes, with capital stock of $10,000, herself as president and her mother, Emma B. Stinson, as secretary and treasurer. Within a month Katherine had bought a Wright model “B” biplane to develop her flying skills and the company began to grow.[3] The following year Marjorie asked her mother for $450 and travelled by train to take lessons at the Wright School. After 4.5 hours in the air she earned her Aero Club of America Pilot’s Certificate No. 303 (dated August 12, 1914), performed some exhibition flights, and then became the main flying instructor at the new branch of the family business, the Stinson School of Flying. Her first graduate was Gorman, who gained Certificate No. 371. That only 67 other people (all men) had earned their licences between Stinson and Gorman gives a sense of how much aviation at the time operated on the principle of the newly minted pilot teaching the next one in line how to fly. Marjorie also taught both of her brothers: Edward in December 1915 and Jack in January 1916.

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The Digital Historian Project

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Active History is proud to present a video each week from New Directions in Active History. The conference took place at Huron University College on October 2-4, 2015 and brought together scholars, students, professionals and community members to discuss a wide range of topics pertaining to active history.

In this week’s video, Neil Orford, a history teacher in the Upper Grand District School Board, discusses a program he designed and implemented called the Digital Historian Project. The Digital Historian Project attempts to tie together history and math through a blended learning environment. In this video Neil outlines his motivations as well as the program’s core vision. He also discusses the challenges faced in running this program, and how integrating an “outside the box” historical and mathematical outlook creates a positive learning environment in which most of the participants will thrive. Using an online database, the program is taught at the local museum in Dufferin County, emphasizing the necessary relationship he has built with his municipality and local museum. This innovative approach to teaching history has garnered support from international organizations. His students were selected to be youth representatives at the 71st D-Day Memorial service in Normandy. Through this program, Neil has hoped to offer history and math in a richer and more involved environment in order to stimulate self-driven interest in history.

Activehistory.ca repost – “When People Eat Chocolate, They Are Eating My Flesh”: Slavery and the Dark Side of Chocolate

As part of Black History Month every Friday in February we’re featuring some of our most popular posts and podcasts on Black History.

The following post was originally featured on June 30, 2010

By Karlee Sapoznik

656px-ChocolateWhether it’s a Mars, Cadbury, Hershey, Nestle or Snickers chocolate bar, most of us relish biting into one of life’s most tasty, cheap indulgences: chocolate.

While the cocoa industry has profited from the use of forced labour in West Africa since the early nineteenth century, over the past decade more and more alarming reports of child slavery in the cocoa industry have come to the fore. Amadou, previously one of the over 200,000 estimated children to be enslaved in cocoa farms in the Ivory Coast alone, told Free the Slaves that “When people eat chocolate, they are eating my flesh.”

The Ivory Coast produces roughly half of the world’s cocoa today. In his recent documentary, entitled The Dark Side of Chocolate , Danish journalist Miki Mistrati seeks to answer the following question: “Is the chocolate we eat produced with the use of child labor and trafficked children?”

In effect, the question is really not whether the chocolate we eat is produced using child labour or trafficked children. Rather, it is twofold: where exactly is this happening and in what numbers? Further, how do we take further measures

Drissa’s scars from being beat after trying to escape

Drissa’s scars from being beat after trying to escape

beyond what is already being done under the law, by the International Cocoa Initiative, the chocolate companies, local law enforcement, activists, the general public and grass roots organizations to truly end this?

The link between slavery and commodities is certainly not new. In the late eighteenth century, the British, like many other countries, directly profited from the slave trade and slavery as they took their tea or used slave-produced products on a daily basis. However, little by little, the London Society for Effecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade succeeded in rallying popular sentiment against slavery and slave-produced commodities.

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Black History Education through the Archives of Ontario

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(ActiveHistory is pleased to partner with the Archives of Ontario to present resources for educators on Black history in Ontario)

Alison Little

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Students at work during a Black history-focused workshop given by the Archives at Toronto’s Agincourt Collegiate Institute, February 2016.

As educators continue to build inclusive, diverse, and flexible learning environments for their students, there is an urgent need for resources to support critical engagement with the past. To assist classroom teachers, the Archives of Ontario has online resources and workshops that connect students with Ontario’s documentary Black history.

In the age of digital by default, the Archives of Ontario offers online Black Canadian history resources that enable students to view and analyze primary source documents on a platform that suits their location and research needs.

Our online exhibits let students examine records from our collection up close and on their own timetable, allowing them to observe, ask, and analyze – the keys to learning through primary sources. Among educators, there is a desire for first-person narratives, examples, and specific histories relevant to students in this province – to teach beyond the material provided by the textbook. It is here that the Archives of Ontario can support teachers and enrich classroom learning.

Developed to share our collection with a broad web audience, our online exhibits expand on Black Canadian histories taught by secondary classroom sources, illustrating major historical narratives through the lives of individuals.  Continue reading

Climate Change on the Ground

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By Elizabeth Vibert

Daina Mahlaule stakes tomatoes at the drip-irrigated community vegetable garden. Photo by author.

Daina Mahlaule stakes tomatoes at the drip-irrigated community vegetable garden. All photos by author.

The people of Jomela village in eastern Limpopo Province, South Africa, feel like canaries in a coal mine. The local metaphor features a snail collecting ashes. When I last visited Jomela in April and May, sixty-five-year-old vegetable farmer Daina Mahlaule told me that home food gardens in the village produced “nothing, nothing at all” in the recent growing season. Scant rain had come too late for the maize and groundnuts that are staples of the local diet.

Now Mrs. Mahlaule and her neighbours find themselves living through one of the worst droughts in a century. This year’s extreme El Niño event – which may mean a mild winter for many of us here in Canada – has already delivered blistering heat and deepening drought to much of Southern Africa. It is now the middle of the southern hemisphere summer, the ‘rainy season’ on which home-based, rain-fed agriculture depends. But there is no rain. Rivers run low or dry, major national reservoirs are dangerously depleted, groundwater reserves are dwindling, and tens of thousands of cattle have perished.

Five of nine provinces in South Africa have declared a state of disaster. Neighbouring Zimbabwe has declared a national emergency. Malawi, Zambia, Lesotho and Mozambique are also affected. Neighbouring states have often turned to South Africa – with its massive, irrigated corporate farms – to purchase maize when their supplies run low. This year South Africa will have none to sell and will have to import up to half its own supply. My research assistant in Limpopo tells me that men with access to pick-up trucks are running a brisk business, buying up maize in 80 kilogram sacks at local mills and selling it around the countryside to panicking households.

Research indicates the enormity of this El Niño event is linked to, or at least exacerbated by, human-induced climate change. So beyond the statistics – millions across the region facing hunger as a second rainy season fails, basic food prices up by a third and maize by as much as 70 percent over recent averages – what does climate change mean in people’s daily lives in places already deeply affected? I focus here on women, who are the main household farmers in sub-Saharan Africa. Continue reading

Why Non-Indigenous Canadians Need to Share the Burden of the Residential School System

An earlier version of this post was originally published on 49thShelf.com as part of a special series of essays and book recommendations called Talking History. Follow the link to see the rest of the series and to explore the more than 80,000 Canadian books listed on the site. The author would like to thank Crystal Fraser for her comments and feedback.

By Kaleigh Bradley

9780889227415

Cover photo of Bev Sellars’ Memoir.

In the nineteenth century, near present-day Sault Ste. Marie, Chief Shingwaukonse dreamt of a teaching wigwam where Anishinaabe children could learn vocational and academic skills. Chief Shingwaukonse wanted children to have these tools so that they could preserve Anishinaabemowin (Ojibwe language), and adapt to a modernizing economy and society. Indigenous peoples, with the help of church missionaries and government officials, sought the creation of schools for their children, but the schools later became an instrument for cultural genocide.

The Indian Residential School (IRS) system began in the early nineteenth century with the missionary work of different Christian groups across Canada. Government and churches designed the IRS system to assimilate and transform Indigenous children into self-reliant citizens by removing parental involvement in their intellectual, spiritual, and cultural development. Schools were perceived as an ideal solution to the late-nineteenth-century “problem” of incorporating Indigenous peoples into Euro-Canadian settler-society. In 1876, the federal government consolidated the IRS system with the passing of the Indian Act, and by the late 1880s, government-funded schools were operating across Canada, run by Anglican, Presbyterian, Catholic missionaries and volunteers. Did you know that Gordon IRS, the last residential school, closed less than twenty years ago in 1996?

Schools were often sites of emotional, physical, and psychological abuse, and the legacy of the schools—language loss, broken families, children alienated from their communities and culture, addictions and mental health issues, intergenerational trauma, health issues due to disease and neglect—continues to ripple throughout Indigenous communities. Institutional life was often traumatic for students, and the education received typically left them ill-equipped for capitalist ways of living. The schools did not lead to the assimilation of Indigenous peoples, although they caused irreparable suffering and damage to Indigenous communities and cultures. Indigenous cultures are no longer as vibrant today as they were prior to the creation of the IRS system.

It’s important to note that the history of residential schools is also a story of survival, resiliency, mobilization, and cultural revitalization. Students and communities often resisted assimilation and survivors acquired the tools for political resistance and mobilization.

In the fall of 2011, I was hired as a research consultant to research for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. I had recently graduated from my Master’s program and in this economy, I was grateful to have a job. My project manager told me to show up at a church archive the following Monday, and I was sent detailed instructions along with a file that was over four hundred pages, which outlined the history of residential schools. I was never taught this history during elementary school, high school, and even as an undergraduate student in university. I was to uncover links between the schools and Indigenous communities and in particular, I was supposed to flag anything in the archives that suggested evidence of abuse, neglect, missing children, or unmarked cemeteries. Continue reading