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Pop­u­lar Cul­ture, His­to­ry, and Cur­rent Events

Sacrifice, Suffrage, and the Struggle for ERA: Celebrating International Women’s Day 2020

By Sabrina Völz

2020 marks the 100th anniver­sary of the 19th Amend­ment to the U.S. Con­sti­tu­tion that grant­ed Amer­i­can women the right to vote. That is cer­tain­ly rea­son to cel­e­brate! But before you break open a bot­tle of sparkling wine, let’s review a few facts so we can put that momen­tous achieve­ment into con­text for our read­ers less famil­iar with U.S. history.

Suf­frage, the right to vote, was not extend­ed to women at the same time it was grant­ed to blacks in 1870. The first for­mal attempt to pass an amend­ment for woman suf­frage – and there would be many – was intro­duced in 1878. For the next 40 years, that amend­ment was put to a vote in each ses­sion of Con­gress. Yes, 40 years! Let that sink in for a while…. Then, in 1918, the 19th Amend­ment final­ly passed the House and the Sen­ate in the fol­low­ing year and was rat­i­fied on August 26, 1920. But these are just a few of the details:

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After that long strug­gle, how­ev­er, many women did not actu­al­ly take advan­tage of their right to vote in the 1920 and 1924 elec­tions. Appar­ent­ly, they thought they already had achieved equal rights. Does that sound famil­iar? It should. It is exact­ly what some of the peo­ple who oppose the Equal Rights Amend­ment are say­ing in 2020.

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A Gift that Keeps Giving: The American Memorial Library in Berlin

By Svenja Dörflinger

“Today we are lay­ing the cor­ner­stone of the Amer­i­can Memo­r­i­al Library. It is to be open to all who desire to enter and learn what men of all nations and all beliefs have thought and writ­ten. It is the free­dom to learn, to study, to seek the truth. This is the essence of a free soci­ety. This is the source of our great­est strength.”

It’s the year 1952 – a hot June day in West Berlin. The city’s may­or, Ernst Reuter; U.S. High Com­mis­sion­er for Ger­many, John McCloy; and Amer­i­can Sec­re­tary of State, Dean Ache­son, are lay­ing the cor­ner­stone for the first Amer­i­can pub­lic library in Ger­many, the Ameri­ka Gedenkbib­lio­thek (Amer­i­can Memo­r­i­al Library). In his speech, Ache­son not only gives hope to the peo­ple of Berlin – who live in a divid­ed city after a hor­ren­dous war – he also deliv­ers a mes­sage that is per­haps more top­i­cal than ever.

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Dreams Have No Borders: The 8th Indianer/Inuit North American Film Festival

By Maria Moss and Sabrina Völz

Acosia Red Elk and Drew Hay­den Tay­lor. Pho­to cred­it: Sab­ri­na Völz

Ask any Native Stud­ies schol­ar in Europe, and they will be well aware of the Euro­pean fas­ci­na­tion with Native peo­ples of North Amer­i­ca – a fas­ci­na­tion that can be traced back to the nov­els of 19th cen­tu­ry writer Karl May who fur­thered the noble sav­age stereo­type. The pre­em­i­nent schol­ar for Native Stud­ies, Hart­mut Lutz, even coined a term for it: Indi­anthu­si­asm. When we heard about the 8th Indi­an­er Inu­it Fes­ti­val in Stuttgart from Feb­ru­ary 6–9, 2020, two ques­tions came to mind: Would this Indi­anthu­si­asm come to life or be decon­struct­ed at the fes­ti­val? And is “Indi­an­er” even a term that should still be used in Ger­man-speak­ing countries?

So we packed our bags and took the 5½-hour train ride from Lüneb­urg to Stuttgart to inves­ti­gate. The festival’s pro­gram was quite exten­sive, encom­pass­ing doc­u­men­taries, short films, fea­ture films, children’s films, and music videos pro­duced and direct­ed by Indige­nous artists from North Amer­i­ca and beyond. Apart from vis­it­ing the film screen­ings, we also encoun­tered fas­ci­nat­ing peo­ple who gave us an inkling of the impres­sive vari­ety of con­tem­po­rary Native artis­tic expression.

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Forget What the History Books Say: How David Hasselhoff Broke Down the Berlin Wall

By Aaron Baumgart

“[This] again proves my the­o­ry that Ger­mans love David Has­sel­hoff,” con­cludes Norm Mac­don­ald on his Sat­ur­day Night Live seg­ment “Week­end Update” in the ear­ly 90s. The crowd roars with laugh­ter, the punch­line has become a favorite among them for quite a while. “Those sil­ly Ger­mans,” Macdonald’s eyes seems to say.

Over twen­ty years lat­er, the joke might not be remem­bered but the sen­ti­ment cer­tain­ly per­sists. Many Ger­mans com­plain on their trav­el blogs about get­ting asked about “The Hoff” while trav­el­ing around the USA. Some of them bare­ly know who he is. Indeed, today’s young adults might only faint­ly remem­ber Has­sel­hoff for run­ning around in red shorts, talk­ing to cars, and hav­ing his drunk­en mis­de­meanors cap­tured on cam­era. This has not always been the case.

Dur­ing the 1980s, both of Hasselhoff’s shows, Knight Rid­er and Bay­watch, were large­ly cel­e­brat­ed in Ger­many. That is to say, not only in Ger­many. Bay­watch was export­ed into 144 coun­tries with over a bil­lion peo­ple world­wide sit­ting in front of their TVs every week. His shows fea­tured ele­ments that were excit­ing for Ger­man view­ers: futur­is­tic tech­nol­o­gy and attrac­tive young actors in very lit­tle cloth­ing on sun­ny beach­es. “The Hoff” con­se­quent­ly made his way into Ger­man mag­a­zines for teens – like Bra­vo and Mäd­chen – but so did John Tra­vol­ta and Patrick Swayze. What made Has­sel­hoff so different?

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Thanksgiving and the Ambiguity of Memory

By Christoph Strobel

It was in the late after­noon on Novem­ber 22, 2018. Even by New Eng­land stan­dards, the weath­er was cold and blus­tery. Out­side of a dor­mi­to­ry at the uni­ver­si­ty where I teach, I met up with a Ger­man stu­dent who spent the 2018 fall semes­ter as a Ful­bright exchange stu­dent at my insti­tu­tion. My fam­i­ly had him over for din­ner before, and, as he had no place to go for Thanks­giv­ing, we invit­ed him to spend the hol­i­day din­ner at our house along with a few oth­er friends. When I picked him up, he was clear­ly sur­prised as the dor­mi­to­ry and the uni­ver­si­ty appeared com­plete­ly aban­doned. I explained to him that Thanks­giv­ing was ‘the’ big fam­i­ly event in the Unit­ed States and that extend­ed fam­i­lies are more like­ly to get togeth­er dur­ing this hol­i­day than for Christ­mas or the Fourth of July.

The din­ner table – resplen­dent with a large roast­ed turkey, mash pota­toes, var­i­ous breads and greens, as well as sweet pota­to and cran­ber­ry dish­es – remind­ed me of my first Thanks­giv­ings in 1993. I had just arrived in the U.S. and was look­ing for­ward to my job as a Ger­man lan­guage assis­tant at a small lib­er­al arts col­lege. Since those days, I have often won­dered about the var­i­ous mean­ings that Amer­i­cans ascribe to the hol­i­day and the some­times ambigu­ous and even con­test­ed rela­tion­ship that many have with Thanks­giv­ing. As a his­to­ri­an, I am fas­ci­nat­ed by how the his­to­ry that sur­rounds the hol­i­day is often ignored or san­i­tized by many in main­stream Amer­i­can soci­ety. In fact, Native Amer­i­cans tend to have an entire­ly dif­fer­ent per­spec­tive on Thanks­giv­ing, but more about that later.

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Remembering the Fall of the Wall

By Martina Kohl

In hon­or of the 30thanniver­sary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Amer­i­can Stud­ies Blog will remem­ber this spec­tac­u­lar event in his­to­ry through the eyes of peo­ple from around the world dur­ing the next few weeks.

Bran­den­burg Gate Today. Pho­to cred­it: U.S. Embassy

 

When Every­thing Changed

“Your friend Jörg called. There’s some­thing going on at the bor­der.” “What bor­der, the Hun­gar­i­an?” I was tak­ing off my coat think­ing of the pic­tures I’d seen of Hun­gar­i­an bor­der patrols cut­ting the wire fence and let­ting East Ger­mans through only a few months before. “He said you should turn on the TV.” And so I did, and there they were, the cel­e­brat­ing Berlin­ers climb­ing on top of the wall, wel­com­ing stunned East Berlin­ers, joined in deliri­ous joy for the first time in four decades. And here I was, almost 7,000 kilo­me­ters away in Ann Arbor, Michi­gan, where I’d been teach­ing for the last four years.

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