Items
Date is exactly
2022-01-31
-
2022-01-31
Syllabus from University at Buffalo HST 459, Dr. Marissa Rhodes.
This is the syllabus from Dr. Rhodes' HST459 class at the University at Buffalo. From the syllabus: "This is a public history course revolving around the COVID-19 pandemic in partnership with the Journal of the Plague Year: An Archive of COVID-19 (www.covid-19archive.org). We will learn about oral histories (focused on the ethics and logistics of conducting, processing, curating, and exhibiting COVID-19 oral histories), and digital archives (focused on the ethics of rapid response archives, documenting the pandemic, curation and exhibit-making using Omeka-S). We will encounter readings on the ethics and methods of oral history, archives, and public history. You will also receive practical training and execute a culminating project such as an oral history collection, data remediation project, or exhibit centered around the Buffalo community, your hometowns, or some other group to which you have access or theme about which you are passionate." Students in the class submitted items to the archive, created oral histories and conducted projects within JOTPY. This will be linked to those items. -
2022-01-31
THE WISDOM OF TWO-YEAR-OLDS
As I got out of my car last Sunday morning in pursuit of caffeine, I took one last deep breath of the freshly-brewed coffee emanating from my local barista's shop before pulling on my N-95 mask and entering the cafe. I live in California and masks are required in all shops in my part of the state. So snug was my mask’s fit, that the aroma instantly vanished. Masks and odor are tightly related, not in just snuffing out outside scents. For anyone who has ever pulled on a previously worn mask, you will have noticed an opportunity to smell used YOU, up close and nasally. Walking in to get my brew, I passed a family with two-year-old twins, bedecked in pink glittery princess gowns complete with wands, tiaras, and the newest in royal attire—tiny COVID masks. One skipped and the other twirled, both seemingly unbothered by their face coverings. And they are not alone. I am still stunned by the casual aplomb of the very young when it comes to mask-wearing. I first noticed this phenomenon several months ago at LAX. It was late in the evening—peak red-eye time. Preschoolers, some overtired and wired, others sleepily dozing in their parents’ arms, passed by. All wore COVID masks; Spiderman; Elmo; mini soccer balls, dinosaurs. None complained. Perhaps they welcomed the slight dulling of their sense of smell since young noses are far more sensitive to odors than mature ones. This makes me wonder why small children do not feel the need to evoke the Gestapo or Hermann Goebbels when it comes to a small piece of fabric that has saved millions of lives. Apart from a diminished sense of smell when wearing N-95s, will we miss mask-wearing when it is no longer a matter of life or death? I for one am not sure. I like the fact that there is no need to wear lipstick. I can skip makeup from the brow down and stop obsessing about new wrinkles. I welcome the feel of an extra layer of warmth on chilly mornings. But perhaps we should look to the two-year-olds who have accepted this bit of sartorial attire as a fun accessory—a tiara for your nasal passages.