The dissertation title in the post below is not good because 1) it is boring, and 2) faith and family in the antebellum south is the same thing. Many historians have made this assertion. Few better than Scott Stephan, who has basically written my first chapter for me. (So I can take the summer off, now.) I do not disagree that evangelicalism proved instrumental in constructing race, class, and gender power dynamics. I am trying to consider faith/family as a primary experience1 in white southerners lives. Again, I’m hardly the first to mention it. In a lame attempt claim some space between myself and Stephan, I’m trying to capture people outside of ministerial circles; with one foot on the earth, so-to-speak.
So I’m thinking about Methodists this week. Real hard about Methodists. In fact, this whole summer is dedicated to learning about faith in the piedmont. Interestingly, there are quite a few sources online, including Google Books and those posted by the Brock Museum at Greensboro College. I spent a nice afternoon there yesterday leafing through pages of the Methodist Protestant newspaper. Funfunfun. This all hasn’t helped my strange desire to hang out with dead people in graveyards, so Lizzie and I drove off to northeastern Guilford County to find Methodist burying grounds. There sure are a lot of Baptists out that way. Dogs had the best time chasing rabbits in the Presbyterian graveyard. In fact, she’s in the other room right now pouting that we’re not out doing it right now. That’s right, I can sense her passive-aggressive sighs and eye-rolling from a different room.
Anyhow. I haven’t had coffee in over three weeks now. I’m drinking hot tea, Earl Gray, mostly, and just in the morning. Coffee wasn’t doing my stomach, my heart, or my wallet any good. I’d say I really don’t notice a difference. But other things have changed; things I’m not telling you.
Got off to Durham for the Beaver Pageant. That’s where the picture is from. Goddam I sure do miss that place. Wish I lived there now because I’m about to spend a lot of time in the Perkins Library Special Collections and the commute from GSO is demoralizing. That’s fine—when Duke offers me that endowed chair in history, I’ll be back. You’ll see.
1. Coded language for check out Daniel Wickberg’s articles.
speaking of coded language . . ."things I’m not telling you." Always the coy one, eh?
Posted by: Leslie Kesler | June 10, 2010 at 10:25 AM