Hello Everyone,
I recently co-authored a new article with Dr. Ann Shivers McNair titled “From ‘Spring Break’ to ‘Reading Days’: Contingency, Relations of Power, and Positionalities in Experiences of Overwork During Academic Breaks.” It’s published in Academic Labor: Research and Artistry.
What did we learn about overwork and burnout during the pandemic?
We offer practical advice in higher education for avoiding burnout in the people under your care, students and otherwise.
Comments closedHello Dear (and few) Readers,
This post is to let you know that my first film, “This was Santa Rita,” will be screening at The Loft Cinema (for free), alongside other student films. You can watch it here: https://loftcinema.org/film/whats-up-docs/
This is the first film I have ever made, and I have learned a lot along the way. I learned to opporate a camera, the basics of film editing, structures of film that are different from writing. Overall, what a wonderful experience to take on during covid-19. It’s such a collaborative process that I actually felt connected to my community during this time of isolation. I worked with archivitsts at New Mexico State as well as Utah State University. Tucson local actors (and my neighboors) volunteered to do dramatic readings of the accounts. My friend and collegue, Kathleen,went to Grant County with me to shoot some footage. We shot a lot of bad footage, but thanks to her, we got SOME good footage. My professor Jacob Bricca spent hours giving me feedback and showing me how to use the software. I completely changed the vision of my film twice! I feel so greateful to those who shared their stories with me and to those who helped me put those stories into film.
I made many discoveries along the way; first, that I love working with film. I hope I can continue this project and theorize more about the role of film in its relationship with history and memory. I want to learn more about using film as a method in rhetorical studies. I also found bits of the story needing more explantation. Why is the Kneeling Nun so important to this community? What does the Society of Persons Born in Space do for them? How do women remember the town? How have they managed to remain a close-knit community over the years. I hope I will be granted the opportunity soon interview Santa Rita residents and learn more about what the history of the town means to them.
Until then, enjoy the film!
Comments closed
Baker, E. (2007). On Strike and on Film: Mexican American Families and Blacklisted Filmmakers in Cold War Era. Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press.
Gardner, R.W. (1991). Santa Rita under the kneeling nun. Self-published. Santa Rita Archives, Silver City Public Library, Silver City, Nm. Accessed Nov. 2018.
Huggard, CJ., & Humble, T.M. (2012). Santa Rita Del Cobre: A Copper Mining Community in New Mexico. Denver: UP of Colorado.
Kennecott Copper Corporation. (March-April 1965).Pit expansion will need Santa Rita Townsite. Chinorama, pp. 1-5. Santa Rita Archives, Silver City Public Library, Silver City, Nm. Accessed Nov. 2018.
Siegfried, S. (13 July 1996). Neighborhood thrived in Santa Rita community. Silver City Daily Press, pp. 3-4. Santa Rita Archives, Silver City Public Library, Silver City, Nm. Accessed Nov. 2018.
Solórzano, D.G. & Yosso, T.J. (Feb 2002). Critical Race Methodology: Counter-Storytelling as an Analytical Framework for Education Research. Qualitative Inquiry, 8(1), 23-44.
Steinberg, S. L. (2003). Santa Rita, New Mexico: Community report. Humboldt State University, Department of Sociology. Santa Rita Archives, Silver City Public Library, Silver City, Nm. Accessed Nov. 2018.
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We stood silently in the Capilla, the weight of generations of prayers layered on one another pressed down on our shoulders. Jesus stared through us. Three hundred votives flickered in the darkness of the hand-placed stones that built up the walls, and prayers written on notebook paper stuffed the fissures of the hidden fortress, and picture of young boy printed from a laser printer and the blue ink scratched, “Do not remove until June 2007.”
Overhead, we heard the bulldozers pushing mounds of earth precariously across the 45-degree angled surface of Hanover Mountain. A crane planted itself firmly at the top, some 80-feet lower now than where the 10-foot wooden cross once stood. It hauled the marrow of the earth up over the hill and into the unknown. Fierro was once a lively mining town. Now it is a name on a map along an unmarked road marred by the decaying remains of homes. The only building preserved against dry rot is El Sancuario de la Pieta at St. Anthony’s Catholic Church. People still travel twice per month to attend mass at St. Anthony’s. We had arrived right in time for the ceremony, but the doors were locked and the only chorus to be heard rumbled from the stomach of the mine–the mountain shaved to its core.
“There is no church this Sunday,” Zakery said, “They’re moving the mountain.”
This newest eviction in the long line of environmental injustices in the Grant County mining district. The mine that swallowed the town of Santa Rita as its pit expanded was about to engorge the memorial shrine of Fierro too.
The Shrine of Santa Rita sits tucked in a battlefield of dying towns at the intersection of New Mexico highways 152 and 356. In exchange for their loss, the residents of Santa Clara were gifted a 900-square foot lot to fence in their refugee relics: Our Lady of Guadalupe stands in here a terrarium holding a rosary and overlooking a memorial to Grant County Veterans. She herself stands as a memorial praying for the Santa Rita refugees whose lives and homes destroyed. Across the pews, looking south toward exposed rainbow earth, a plaque reads:
In 1960, Kennecott Copper Corporation notified the residents of the town of Santa Rita that they had to evacuate by 1970 due to mining expansion, all houses, buildings, and the Santa Rita Catholic church were either moved or demolished. The Statue of Santa Rita was taken the village of central Miguel Ojinaga. Angel Alvarado and Moy Gonzales asked Kennecott for a section of land, and the statue was brought back with the blessing of the diocesan of El Paso and with the help of other Santa Rita residents. The shrine was built here.
The plaque speaks in half-truths about the devastations of the people, as though the plot of land smaller than the average backyard is a gift. The residents of Santa Rita did not evacuate, an optional migration in the event of natural disaster, they were evicted by their Land Lord. As the earth literally fell out from under their feet took, not only where they lived but where they went for spiritual rejuvenation, citizens of Santa Rita were left with nothing. They waited and watched the physical destruction of their town, only to see a symbol of their faith carried off in the process. Our Lady of Guadalupe, a cultural symbol for the Mexicano people sought refuge in El Paso waiting out her trial for permission to return. Now, she mourns over all of the lives lost in Grant County. The physical lives of veterans and the envision of life as it once was. Soon there would be a new memorial statue to honor the 890 women’s auxiliary who put their lives on the line in 1950 to fight for fair working conditions in the same mine. The Santa Rita shrine is a catch-all sanctuary because it is the untouched slice of a “home” they used to know. It is a cultural artifact of the little bit they could salvage.
As Glenn Albrecht explains in “Solastalgia: A New Concept in Health and Identity” the citizens of Santa Rita grieved as they watched their lands being stripped away. They felt a “relationship between the psychic identity and their home. What these people lacked was the solace of comfort derived from their present relationship to ‘home’.” The destruction of one’s land is the devastation of one’s identity, especially in a mining town where the earth is tied to their culture. The people call themselves the Salt of the Earth, both in reference to their humble nature and their inseparable identity from the ground that provides for them. The paradox of mining is knowing that you make your money exploiting the same resources you depend on for sustenance. Although the company houses did not belong to the people of Santa Rita, the land always did. When the company asserted its power to repossess all of the lands, they left families defenseless–homesick, mourning.
Much like Albrecht notes, “their place-based distress was also connected to a sense of powerlessness and a sense that environmental injustice was being on home.” They watched pit expand to consume their geographic homes, and their vision of home was destroyed as they realize how little power they had over anything. This grief is intensified knowing the Santa Rita citizens where the ones both assaulting and assaulted. They dugs the pit during the day and came home the sleep in houses they would sweep away. They understood that their paychecks would cost the people of Santa Rita their lives as they knew it.
Now Santa Rita is a whisper behind a chain-linked fence, and Fierro is dwindling as the pit runs dry. The only hope of saving the central mining district is mountain-top removal.
Comments closedOver the last few weeks, I have spent some time bouncing around and interviewing officials from the Department of Cultural Affairs to understand how we can begin designating the Local 890 Union Hall as a historic property. Our team’s mission is to recognize the lives, labor, and leadership of the women and men of Local 890 and celebrate their groundbreaking role in the 1950-1952 Empire Zinc Mine Strike–one of the nation’s most effective and groundbreaking strikes lead by women. In my part on the Salt of the Earth Recovery Project team, I wanted to see what we can do, if anything to implement governmental historic designation. So I started asking questions: Who makes decisions about the designation of a State Historic Site? What is the process of designating a State Historic Site? and What criteria is used to determine when nominating and selecting sites?
What I discovered is that there are more designations for preservation that we should consider beyond State Historic Sites. Some are well-marked by standard operating procedures and legislation, others are governed by state statute. Furthermore, the process of becoming a “State Historic Site” is only partially mapped; and it requires us to work with the community to tell the history of the building through tourism. You find in this report an explanation of the different designation processes and benefits and drawbacks of each. Regardless of the route we pursue in preserving the Local 890 Union Hall, community partnerships, grants for funding, and historic interpretation are essential ingredients.
The mission of the Salt of the Earth Recovery Project is to recognize the lives, labor, and leadership of the women and men of Local 890 and celebrate their groundbreaking role in the 1950-1952 Empire Zinc Mine Strike.
The vision of the Salt of the Earth Recovery Project is to honor the stories of the women and men of Local 890 and to support restoration and preservation of the Local 890 Union Hall in Bayard, New Mexico for the benefit of the local community, the citizens of New Mexico, and the historic memory of the nation.
At times in my research, I lost track of the terms used for official designation. They are mostly governed by the same entities, the Historic Preservation Division and the Department of Cultural Affairs, but the designations are important to distinguish from one another.
● State Register of Cultural Properties – “This designation provides for the protection of archaeological sites through the creation of a permit process to survey and excavate archaeological sites and unmarked human burials by qualified institutions and established civil and criminal penalties for the looting of archaeological sites and disturbance of unmarked burials. ” This designation is commonly referred to as the State Historic Registry and allows for certain properties to receive state funding in the form of grants for preservation. In addition, it makes the destruction of validation of this property a criminal offense. These properties are not given plaques of any sort.
● National Register of Historic Places – This is a designation of “the nation’s historic places worthy of preservation. Authorized by the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, the National Park Service’s National Register of Historic Places is part of a national program to coordinate and support public and private efforts to identify, evaluate, and protect America’s historic and archeological resources.” The designation allows an organization to apply for federal funding for the preservation of the property. It also makes the destruction or vandalization of the building a federal offense.
● New Mexico Scenic Historic Markers – These are the markers used to commemorate a historic event or place. They are plaques granted by the Cultural Properties Review Committee, State Historic Preservation Division, and Office of Cultural Affairs. They do not grant any benefit or privilege to the historic site. However, they must be reviewed for accuracy of information and to ensure the marker will not cause harm to the site. The general purpose is to attract highway travelers to read about a point of interest without veering far from the highway. The ladies auxiliary unit of the local 890 already has one of these markers alongside highway 152.
● New Mexico State Historic Site – (Formerly called New Mexico State Monuments) These are registered cultural properties that receive special designation, management, and interpretation services through the Department of Cultural Affairs. They are staffed by the State Parks Service. There are currently only six of these. New Mexico has more than 1,985 prehistoric and historic properties listed in the State Register, but only 6 are State Historic Sites.
● National Historic Landmark – This designation is for “nationally significant historic places designated by the Secretary of the Interior because they possess exceptional value or quality in illustrating or interpreting the heritage of the United States.” While over 90,000 sites listed on the National Register of Historic Places, just over 2600 are National Historic Landmarks.
● Certified Local Government Program (CLG) – This designation assists local governments to develop their own ordinances for demolition and construction within “historical districts.” The goal is to integrate community planning with historic preservation. Only CLGs are eligible for second category grants from the National Park Service’s Historic Preservation Fund.
Juntos en la Union: Juntos en la Union is a historical society out of Silver City dedicated to “the preservation of The Mine Mill and Smelter Workers Local 890 headquarters” who have already made great strides in the designation process. Unannounced to our team, they begin the preservation efforts of the local 890 union hall. It seems their efforts began with the intention to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the film “Salt of the Earth,” as cited in their letters of support. Between the years 2010 and 2017, the group made great distance to prove the historical significance of the Union hall including:
● A letter of support from the City of Bayard signed by the mayor in May 2010
● A letter of support from the Wisconsin Labor History Society recommending the Union Hall’s designation to the National Register of Historic Places in December 2010
● A letter from New Mexico’s former Governor, Jeff Bingaman in support of preserving the Union Hall in July 2011.
Despite a lack of knowledge within the community, Juntos en le Union’s dedication to the protection of the building resulted in the designation of the union hall a state cultural property in March 2017 with a vote of 48 yeses to 7 nos. The Memorial verifies historical and cultural significance based on:
The Political Significance in History
● The site’s representation of “minority groups’ struggles and triumphs over injustice and discrimination and that [the local 890 union’s] pursuit of happiness guaranteed under the United States Constitution” during and after the 1950-1951 Empire Zinc Strikes
● A historic landmark demonstrating the “struggle of the workers of Local 890 and Ladies Auxiliary 290 against racism, sexism and unjust working conditions”
The Social Significance of the Salt of the Earth Film
● The contribution of the Salt of the Earth film as “one of the first motion pictures to advance the feminist social and political point of view” and the union hall as the primary filming location of the movie
● The novel significance of the film as the only motion picture ever blacklisted in American Film History
● The cultural significance of the Library of Congress’ designation of one of the top 100 most “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant” films
The Local and Community Significance of the Building
● A community center where “miners and their families could attend lectures and movies and socialize at dances, bingo parties, wedding, and baptisms, in addition to being used for union business”
● A classic construction representative of New Mexican architecture
National Register of Historic Places
Despite legislative effort in designating the Local 890 Union Hall as a State Cultural Property, it was not recommended as an addition to National Registry of Historic Places. According to State legislature, a property must first receive designation and approval as a State Cultural Property before it is eligible for the National Registry. Generally, the applying organization or individual fills out the two forms together. Upon approval as a State Cultural Property, the Cultural Review Committee may forward the National Application to the National Park Service for further review. Listing the Union Hall on the National registry does little to bring in money for preservation nor interpretation. The main role of the designation is to change the way the community of Bayard perceives its history and historic places.
There are two reasons why I believe the site was not recommended to the National Historic Registry. First, according to the national criteria, a historic site must be at least 50 years old to qualify. When Juntos en La Union began the designation process, 50 years had not yet passed since the end of the Empire Zinc Mine strikes and the filming of the movie. In addition, the application did not situate the historical merit of the building in a larger narrative about the changing social and political climate of the US.; rather it documented the history of the building as stand-alone events. In order to present the union hall as a nationally significant site, we need to connect it to the Hispanic civil rights movement and/or the feminist movement of the era noting how the events of the strike primed other emerging activists and civil assemblies.
Tax Credits: The major benefit of the National Historic Landmark designation is a 20% federal income tax credit available for the rehabilitation of historic buildings that produce income. While the union hall does not currently produce income, this tax credit can provide relief for maintenance and preservation of the building once it is open to the community again. In addition, New Mexico’s Historic Preservation Division offers up to half of the rehabilitation costs as a deduction from state income taxes over a period of five years, with a cap of $25,000 per project. The property owner may also qualify for a 3% APR fixed rate loan for any rehabilitation, maintenance, or preservation work.
Federal Grants: Another benefit of the National Historic Registry is the eligibility for grants. Among these grants is the State Historic Preservation Program which allocates more than 54 million dollars each year to match state contributions for the preservation of 20-50 National Registry Historic Sites. This grant is highly competitive.
As the next step in the preservation of the building, this designation would list the property to the public and may encourage tourism to the town of Bayard. While this designation does not automatically issue a plaque, the designation itself emits a certain ethos in advertising that is worth the minimal effort of an application.
As outlined in the HM022 New Mexico State Legislative memorial, I believe the local 890 Union Hall presents a strong case for National Historic Preservation. With the state historic registry application, we already have most of the information required, and the designation process is short–taking an average of 90 days after the completion of the application. The past applications for National Registration are all on file and available on the National Parks Services Website. As models for the application process, The Forty Acres Farm in Delano, California is the historically closest resembling national historic property and provides an example to follow when writing the application. The geographically nearest resembling National Historic property in New Mexico, The Silver City Woman’s Club building, may also serve as a model for writing a “proposed use” statement. Both of these sites are privately owned and designated within the last ten years which means the application process and applications should be similar
Historic significance:
● Empire Zinc Mine Strikes
● Women’s Auxiliary Unit
● Connection to Salt of the Earth
Historic Context:
● Latino American civil rights activism
● American labor movement
● Social and political feminism
Historic Integrity:
● Intact local and historical architecture
● Murals of cultural and local significance
● Location in connection to mines
The primary benefit of the State Historic site designation is an increase in tourism and recognition of the historical merit of Bayard, the Local 890 Union, and the Empire Zinc mine strikes. A spot on the National registry guarantees a certain level of preservation, but it does not list the property in a conspicuous catalog for places to visit. On the other hand, placement among the other 6 State Historic Sites managed by the New Mexico Department of Cultural Affairs would distinguish the property in a way that attracts visitors. In addition, these sites are well marked by multiple signs to direct interest and traffic from all nearby highways. The process validates the historical narrative of the location in a way other designations cannot, but it also takes away a certain amount of control from the community to establish preservation and direction of the site. All preservation work must be preapproved by the Historic Preservation Division who requires permits for any community use of the property beyond the events scheduled by preservation easements (Friends of…). This means the site could not be used as a community gathering space.
While the process for cultural property designation is written in state statute, the process for moving that designation forward to a State Historic Site is much more complicated, and each historic site approaches it differently. The three key ingredients to becoming a State Historic Site are significant capital, community partnerships, and means for interpretation. These conclusions from a Case Study of the Taylor Mesilla Historic Site (a future state historic site) and The Coronado Historic Site (the first State Historic Site in New Mexico), and an Interview with Pilar Cannizzaro, the Preservation Planning Manager for the New Mexico Historic Preservation Division.
Capital:
According to Cannizzaro, the budget of a historic site is of key importance because the state has a small budget for maintaining, preserving, and interpreting the sites. When new sites are added, the budget does not increase; the capital must be split. Therefore, it is essential that a historic site gifts the state additional funds. We see this in the case of the Taylor Home, where the wealthy estate owner gifted the property and his money to the state of New Mexico transferable upon death. For the Coronado Historic Site, Franklin D. Roosevelt gifted the lead archaeologist, Edgar Lee Hewett, $50,000 as part of the antiquities act and Work Projects Administration to excavate and interpret the site in anticipation of the Cuarto Centenario commemoration of Francisco Vásquez de Coronado’s conquest through New Mexico. In a more recent attempt to designate Los Lucero Historic Property as a State Historic Site, the Department of Cultural affairs completely restored the property, draining funds from other sites. However, it sits empty without the money for interpretation or management.
Cannizzaro noted that a cultural property could become a State Historic Site without immediate funding if organizers of the property could guarantee a sufficient amount of tourism to sustain revenue. In these cases, state and national grants provide up to 90% of the costs of acquisition and restoration in anticipation of tourism providing interpretation and maintenance costs. Events like Old Lincoln Day and the Billy the Kid Pageant bring in enough revenue to sustain Lincoln Historic Site for the remainder of the year.
Community Buy-in:
Nearly everyone I have talked to repeatedly states community buy-in is perhaps the most crucial ingredient to the designation of a historic site.
Every State Historic Site Began the designation process with a “Friends of” 501-3C nonprofit organization established in the interest of preserving a historic site. They work to create a partnership with the public through outreach, provide volunteer labor, fundraise for new and updated exhibits, and secure the liability insurance to host events on and near the property that the State and Federal Government cannot. Perhaps the most important role of the “Friends of” group during their designation process is their presence at legislative meetings. Having members of the community attend these meetings works like grassroots lobbyists to push the site through the designation process.
According to the Historic Preservation Division, “property owners may grant a local government or not-for-profit organization with the preservation mission the right to preserve a historic, archeological, or cultural resource.” This process occurs through a contract called a preservation easement wherein the property owner, in our case The United Steel Workers’ Association, would transfer the development and preservation rights of the Union Hall to the nonprofit organization. These rights include historic preservation and/or open-space preservation. However, the organization must first prove that they have the resources to manage and enforce the restrictions provided for in the easement.
When I spoke with the president of Friends of Coronado, Brian Gilmore, he noted that much of the group’s work now is to continue raising money for new research of the site and working as docents for special tours. I have invited him out to the Cuentos events in July. He also agreed to meet with a committee or group to talk about how to establish a strong “Friends of” group.
Community buy-in can take other forms too. For the redesignation and reinterpretation of the Bosque Redondo site, it came in the form of a letter and petition from 21 concerned Navajo who urged for “the true history of the Navajos and the United States Military ” with support from the Navajo tribe to reinterpret the site and curate a museum that meets the criteria for the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience – a designation of “safe spaces to remember and preserve even the most traumatic memories, but they enable their visitors to make connections between the past and related contemporary human rights issues. ” Through connections with the Navajo tribe, that site is now eligible for grant funding and interpretation support through International Coalition of Sites of Conscience. As part of the reinterpretation, the Navajo tribe now sponsors pilgrimages to Bosque Redondo to honor and remember their ancestors who died there. This tourist event now generates profits through tourism.
We see the same effect with the community support of the Jemez Historic sites and the community support from the Jemez tribe. While the historic site currently represents the Spanish Colonial conquest on the prehistoric site, the Jemez Pueblo recently joined efforts with the Friends of Jemez Historic site to raise money for future excavations of the archeological site to learn more about the Native people who lived there pre-Spanish contact. Excavations will begin in August and accompany a new exhibit about how to clean, interpret, and preserve prehistoric artifacts.
The Salt of The Earth Recovery Project workshops this May-July will not only reaffirm our community buy-in, but they will give us written documentation from our community about what they would like to see done with the union hall. These voices are a crucial element to solidify communal historical merit and designation. Additionally, it gives us a point of contact with individuals who might be interested in becoming the first leaders and members of a Friends of the Local 890 Union Hall or a similar support group. If we invite members of the Department of Cultural Affairs to these events, we position our community to meet with decision makers directly.
Interpretation:
Interpretation of a site comes in many forms: placard, pamphlets, and tours. Unfortunately, there are little to no state funds allocated for historical sites that are not State Historic Sites. Interpretation is often left as work for the community, volunteers, and staff of the site. An already well-established narrative of interpretation would better position the property for State Historic Site Designation. The Salt of the Earth Recovery Project also creates a launching point for interpretation of the significance of the Empire Zinc Mine Strikes and Local 890 Union hall from the perspective of various stakeholders from different generations.
Strengths:
● Close to Silver City for Tourism
● Recent inclusion in the Bayard City Tour
Weaknesses:
● Not “old” enough/barely passed the 50-year marker
● No ability to prove prior tourism
● No local events to bring in Tourism
Opportunities:
● Historic Women Marker Initiative (kairos)
● Santa Clara CLG nearby offers a connection to other historical attractions
Threats:
● Justifying a budget
● Interpreting the history is challenging and time-consuming.
A Certified Local Government Program (CLG) is a political subdivision of the state that has established public policy towards historic preservation. This enacts a historic preservation ordinance and establishes a local preservation commission. An ordinance must meet specific requirements for the designation and protection of historic properties (outlined in NMAC 4.10.10, see FAQ page) The local preservation commission reviews historical projects and makes decisions about preservation and restoration as needed. Generally, this establishes a historical district with multiple historic sites protected within. The CLG can then establish ordinances that establish what private owners can and cannot do with their historical properties. The commission must also meet certain specifications. The designation allows a community to maintain full control of preservation and interpretation including direct participation in the listing process for nominations to the National Register of Historic Sites.
The designation of sites within that district is decided upon within the CLG’s review panel. CLG grant program coordinator, Karla McWilliams, would work with the community to establish the CLG and guide the community through establishing preservation criteria and measures. To be certified, a CLG candidate must apply to the Historic Preservation Division for certification. An application for certification includes a copy of the preservation ordinance, a list of commission members, commission members’ resumes, how the commission will be staffed, a certification agreement, a checklist, a request for certification, and a list/map of all designated historic properties. Then, the Historic Preservation Division will review the application to ensure it meets program requirements. If it does, it is forwarded to the National Park Service for their review and certification. They decide on the designation process within 30 days of receiving the application.
Funding:
Aside from maintaining local control the Union Hall’s use and preservation, CLGs are eligible for additional funding from the National Parks Service through the Historic Preservation Fund. While other grants are highly competitive, at least 10% of all of New Mexico’s Federal Historic Preservation funds must be granted to CLGs. In 2007, this was about $80,000. As of now, there are only 9 CLGs in New Mexico, making Bayard highly competitive for funding. These sub-grants have few restrictions on what they can fund, and projects may include: “surveys, National Register nominations, rehabilitation work, design guidelines, educational programs, training, structural assessments, and feasibility studies.” CLG grants are matching (1:1) and reimbursable grants.
As a CLG, the district would also be eligible for an Underrepresented Community Grant through the National Parks Service. Last year the scholarship granted funding to 13 projects totally $500,000. The money from this grant may be used to fund preservation of a property already listed on the National Registry. They may also be used to nominate a specific site for the registry.
Technical Assistance:
CLGs also have the benefit of direct access to State Historic Preservation Officer (Patrick Moore) for consulting about assistance with building assessments, surveys and historical nominations, and general preservation assistance. The community would also receive preservation and management training from CLG program coordinator Karla McWilliams.
Property Value:
The establishing of a historic district generally increases property values within the district by enforcing building maintenance, walkability, and a greater sense of community pride.
Strengths:
• Bayard has several potential historic sites in need of preservation
• The community shows continued support in preservation efforts, including the letter of support from the city mayor
• Santa Clara, a few miles away, just established a CLG which gives us a model for the creation of a CLG
Weaknesses:
• The CLG requires active effort and participation from the government and community which may strain time and monetary resources.
• The CLG allows the city to establish ordinances that may work against the wishes of property owners.
Opportunities
• We have already established a working relationship with Karla McWilliams who is willing to meet with community leaders in-person.
• The positionality of the historic events and demographic representation of the community would position the CLG competitively for the Underrepresented Community Grant.
Threats:
• Rallying of qualified commission members may prove tricky if the whole community is not invested in the preservation efforts.
Given my best judgement, I recommend the following tentative plan for the preservation and restoration of the Local 890 Union Hall.
Resources:
The Salt of the Earth Recovery Project Website: https://saltoftheearthrecoveryproject.wordpress.com/
Application Process for National Register of Historic Places: https://www.nps.gov/nr/publications/bulletins/pdfs/nrb16a.pdf
FAQ for National Register of Historic Places: https://www.nps.gov/nr/faq.htm
Establishing a “Friends of”: http://www.sos.state.nm.us/Business_Services/Domestic_NM_for_Non_profit_Corp.aspx
Application Process for CLG: http://nmhistoricpreservation.org/assets/files/clg/CLG-NMAC-4.10.10.pdf
FAQ for CLG: http://nmhistoricpreservation.org/programs/clg/clg-faqs.html
Comments closedI loaded up my dog in the car and drove over to my friend’s house to pick her up. My friend is a New Mexican native, and she was so excited to go with me. She’d never been to the Coronado Historic Site, despite living so close to it for many years.
We talked about our contrasting in experiences with Southwestern history. Growing up, she took so many classes in New Mexican History that it surprises her I knew nothing. I kept trying to explain how the majority of history books leave out information and lie about what happened–how bias our textbooks are.
“This is the BEST way to learn New Mexican history” she kept telling me, and we discussed our expectations of the historic site.
We knew the Coronado Historic Site was going to be messy–the name alone promotes a bias about whos history the location represents. We were armed only with the description from the Department of Cultural Affairs:
In 1540, Francisco Vásquez de Coronado—with 500 soldiers and 2,000 Indian allies from New Spain—entered the Rio Grande valley somewhere near this site. Coronado was searching for the fabled Seven Cities of Gold. Instead of treasure, he found a dozen villages inhabited by prosperous native farmers. These newly “discovered” people spoke Tiwa, and their ancestors had already been living in this area for thousands of years. Coronado called them: Los Indios de los Pueblos or Pueblo Indians. He and his men visited all twelve Tiwa villages during the course of the next two years because they survived on food and other supplies that they obtained from them. Without the assistance of the Tiwas (willing or unwilling), Coronado and his men very likely would have starved to death.
Already we were talking about how the site focused on Coronado and erased the history of the people that lived there for hundreds of years before Spanish contact. However, we never would have imagined just how much eraser we would see.
The first plaque as you enter the historic site tells a lot about the motivation for designating the historic site:
We could not get past the phrase “Interpreted to visitors” because it seemed like such a contrast to the other words in the sentence. That rather than discovering and learning from the sites–an action that places visitors in direct contact with historical artifacts, the site was purposely created to add a third party between the two–someone who could present a particular angle of history. The interpreter selects what he or she finds most interesting to present to a tourist. Or worse, he or she selects the story they’d like the tourist to experience and engage with.
This is the same sentiment I saw on the Department of Cultural Affairs website, where history is driven by tourism more than an understanding of events. But Coronado site is worse than that; It’s false advertising.
We went to the state Historic Site looking for artifacts from Coronado. In reality, they have no evidence that the Spanish ever had encounters with the natives at this prehistoric village (and thank goodness). The Coronado historic site, in reality, has nothing to do with Coronado–or even the conquistadors. It’s a prehistoric indigenous village that bears the name Coronado because that’s what the interpreters wanted visitors to experience–the invasion of a village very different from their own culture.
According to our tour guide, in the late 1930s archeologists went looking for the village where Coronado passed the winter. Diaries explain that Coronado and his troops would not have survived the winter without the help of indigenous natives, and so they passed the winter together in a native pueblo before Coronado slaughtered them. In anticipation of the 200 year anniversary of Spanish Conquest in North America, archeologists wanted to find identify a place where SPANISH history collided with New Mexican collided with prehistory. Where the location could be interpreted, excavated, and interpreted for the purpose of tourism.
None of the structures at the Coronado Historic Site are original to the prehistoric ruins once found there. Not original, nor accurate. Archeologist found the remains of a village. However, the remains seemed too fragile to preserve. Therefore, shortly after excavating it, they buried it again and built up replicas. Our tour guide noted that they technics the WPA workers built in the late 30’s were not similar to those used by the original inhabitants, and even some of the structures are not to scale. However, there are no signs indicating the inaccuracies.
The Coronado Historic Site was meant to uncover information about Coronado’s “accomplishments of exploring and opening up areas unknown to the European.” When they did not find the artifacts to do so, they appropriated the pueblo–not just culturally, but physically and geographically. Tourists could “get an idea” of what it might be like to come across these villages as the Spanish conquistadors once did.
We see this in the plaques describing the site to contemporary visitors. They invite us to “imagine many small agricultural fields” during the peak of its time. Some descriptions are very prosey with images of the children playing with chickens in the plazas. But it’s important to understand that the sight does not invite you to experience the village from a native perspective.
In fact, the contradictory plaques sometimes acknowledge the structures are replicas and other times suggest they are prehistoric: “The pit-like structures to your left and right are the ruins of underground chambers called kivas”
Another disturbing fault of the placards throughout the historic site is that they are from the perspective of the Spanish people despite that there is no evidence to suggest the Spanish made contact with this village. They use Spanish words, like estufa, to describe objects that do not culturally exist in Hispanic culture and history. Furthermore, the descriptions are othering in their language. They’re even offensive.
In this example, De Castañedo constantly maintains a sense of “they,” without acknowledgment of any similarities. He is surprised to find that the tribe he describes (obviously not the tribe that lived here) is hygienic in dealing with their food. We see in his language that he perceives the native as primitive and he praises their level of civility and domesticity.
Furthermore, the plaque descriptions are celebratory of conquering and neutral toward Spanish violence. In the same sentence, we read:
You cannot take a location in time or space that represents domination and unchecked power and cruelty and remain neutral in blame. It does not accurately portray historical events. The only thing unrecognized here is how the whole historical site devalues the people that actually lived here. A native village misappropriated to Celebrate Spanish conquest and violence and covered up under the guise of tourism.
Everything about this State Historic Monument, from its name to the interpretation was already established for a particular occasion–the anniversary of Coronado coming to New Mexico–with a particular goal in mind–creating a sense of pride for the “discovery” and domination of the cultures that lived here before. Sadly, the motive that keeps all this running is a fake nostalgia, a desire to live an experience that never happened. It’s an experience that maintains the ignorance about history I learned. Worse, it invites “New” Mexicans to remain apathetic toward natives and celebratory of the violence against them.
When I spoke to New Mexico Historic Site Instructional Coordinator, Ethan Ortega, on the phone, he made an off-hand comment that really stuck with me. He returned my call wanting clarification on what I meant when I asked about historic monument sites. A few years ago New Mexico changed the official name of the designation–State Historic Sites became State Historic Monuments. As a result, more people come to the sites looking for statues or something more resembling our collective understanding of monuments. It’s a smart rhetorical play on language to bring in revenue. The misleading and ambiguous language creates a misconception that works in favor of generating interest and revenue.
Unfortunately, that is also what we see in the Coronado State Historic Monument. Nothing is real. The name is misleading, the structures are replicas, the descriptions are biased and misappropriated. And somehow this site retains its merit as a historical interpretation for visitors. It’s clear to me how this site got its designation: capital and coercion.
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After calling the State Historian’s office, I gained a bit of insight on the happenings in State Historic Site Landia.
First, there used to be a seventh historic site: El Camino Real Historic Trail Site. According to Deputy Historian Rob Martinez, the site recently closed because it was not making enough money from visitors to sustain itself. The state pays for a portion of the historic sites, but on some level, they need to maintain a percentage of their revenue. Since the trail was located a substantial distance from the highway, few visitors ventured out there.
What strikes me as interesting about this historic site is precisely what I saw in the others. Although it was a trading trail for indigenous groups before the Spanish commandeered it, The Department of Cultural Affairs still markets it with primarily Spanish Centric history–at least on the website: “Using a series of Native American footpaths used for trade between the indigenous people of Tenochititlán/Mexico City and Chaco, Spanish explorer Juan de Oñate “blazed” the northern portion of the trail into what is now New Mexico in 1598, and claimed the land for Spain.” The structure of the sentence alone subordinates the native history of the trail and gives privilege to Oñate with his exploration of a trail that was already well known.
We see this again in following paragraphs about the trail:
Discover the indigenous people encountered by the Spanish and the impact the arrival of the Spanish had on the formation of New Mexico. Remnants of the early journey remain today in hand-hewn carts, tools, leather water jugs, and religious altars and objects that accompanied the travelers into the northern territory.
Of course, given the charming nature of Oñate, we can expect the “encounter” was peaceable (that is sarcasm). In fact, Oñate is infamous for his unnecessary brutality against the natives. But the page fails to acknowledge the truth about history. It is an erasure of what happened–the same kind of eraser I saw in my history classes growing up. And while I cannot say that history has an ethicality or morality, certainly, the pieces left out here affect the Truth.
I am told that the visitor center is closed, but much of the trail is still accessible, including the plaques that accompany the historic site. Therefore, I would like to visit it over the next few weeks to discover if the onsite history is as bias as the website. I’ve already sent an email to request a tour. Wish me luck!
Martinez also informed me that the state is looking to acquire an additional historic site: The Taylor Family Monument. As of right now, the monument is still a family home and not open to the public. However, it is willed to the state once its current owner passes away. There seems to be at least some confusion about the historic site, the website owned by the Friends of the Taylor Family claim “The official dedication of the Taylor-Barela-Reynolds-Mesilla Historic Site (TBRM) took place in September 2006. As one of New Mexico’s eight Historic Sites, TBRM joins a special collection of culturally significant places. Each historic site tells a unique story that is important to understanding New Mexico history.” Another question to ask: Is it officially a historic site or not? If so, who decided?
Regardless, The home represents an important part of New Mexican history.
The Taylor home and two adjoining stores tell the story of settlement in the Mesilla Valley and a time when Mesilla was the center of political, commercial, and social activity in southern New Mexico. Events associated with the monument’s history include: the U.S. War with Mexico, the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo, and the Gadsden Purchase; the Confederate attempt to invade New Mexico during the Civil War; operation of the Butterfield Overland Mail Trail and Camino Real trade routes; and arrival of the railroad in New Mexico.
Without argument, the home is a symbol of the colonialism–but not Spanish colonialism like other historic sites. Instead, it represents American Colonialism. A war the United States provoked to gain land, a “treaty” which gave Mexicans living in the border states the “decision” to relocate or assimilate, and a resettling of borders in favor of building rail lines for the US. After All, these periods are what gained New Mexico statehood status.
While it is important to recognize–maybe even celebrate–the annexation of New Mexican territory, we cannot do so without acknowledging the physical and emotional displacement of the people who already lived here. The descriptions on the website fail to mention the people already living here when these pioneers settled in the Mesilla Valley in the 1850s. Furthermore, I am concerned about why we may have another state Historic Site, or perhaps we are acquiring another state historic site that represents the same populations and stakeholders already represented in the other 6.5 sites. Where is the representation of the Natives–both indigenous and Mexican?
Comments closedI consider myself well-educated. However, on topics of history, I am afraid I have been bamboozled. When I moved to New Mexico, I was blindsided by a side of history I’d never learned. Whole wars erased from my Midwestern History books. Whole groups of people vanished as though they never existed. I grew up with the impression that The West was empty land that somehow had never been explored prior to manifest destiny. Aside from the sparse indigenous people who lived here, it was free for the taking. We are especially proud of this where I came from. I grew up in Kansas City, home of the cattle train, train head to the west. Every year we celebrate the expansion of the west with Santa Cali Gon festival. My understanding of the American West was shaped through selection– a selection of representation in the texts, and selection of representation in Hollywood. Though who makes these choices, I cannot be sure. The idea that people make active decisions about the selection history fascinates me.
Then, driving to Taos with a friend, I marveled as we turned onto Cárdenas drive–A street named after her family who has lived there for hundreds of years–long before New Mexico was one of the “United” States. As I gawked at the beautify of the land and architecture of Taos, I kept telling me friends–both native New Mexicans, “You don’t get it, you don’t get it!” I did not understand why they were not dancing through the fields with me. Personally, I do not know what it is like to stand where my family has stood for generations. I also do not know what it is like to have your entire history erased.
We passed her family hacienda–sold in her lifetime and renovated into a gift shop that sells high-end art and postcards with Mountain vistas. She told me her family could no longer afford the taxes on land they’d lived on for hundreds of years.
Toas is not as well-known for the native communities that have inhabited it for hundreds of years. As the final resting place for Kit Carson, it is in some ways a monument to the great conquistadors–conquerors that established “America’s foremost, bona fide Art Colony” and tamed the sacred mountains with “a world-class ski resort.” As a student of rhetoric, this amazes me. As a friend, it appalls me. New Mexico’s history is sold on the back of tourism. While my friends know the complicated and bloody history of the American Southwest, I am lost in a daze. That night, we walked around the city Plaza, and my friend gave me a ghost tour–so many people killed.
I sit in in literature classes, and I am the only one asking questions like “Who is Santa Ana?” Everyone around me has the colonization, war, and oppression stored in their minds, written on their family bloodlines. While I was telling my friends that they didn’t understand the beauty of their own land, I am the one who has no idea. I do the reading in class, but I try not to talk. I have come to the realization that my people–white people–are the ones who took everything. We wrote the history from the perspective of the conquers. Unfortunately, we are still erasing history. We see a beautiful mountain, and we colonize it with writers, authors, and ski resorts. I’ve found that I am learning a lot more in New Mexico than I anticipated.
In an effort to both better understand a history I never learned AND discover who makes decisions about selection of history, and I embarking on a tour of the New Mexico State Historic Sites. Already, I have some concerns about the representation of history. This week, I called the New Mexico Department of Cultural Affairs to ask if what I saw on the website is true.
And despite being few, they already seem to tell an interesting tale of New Mexican history. The historiography of the west as presented in the selection of historic monuments is eager to create exciting experiences for “New” Mexicans. The State Sector calls out the reader like you might expect from the department of tourism.
“Explore History Where it Happened: New Mexico Historic Sites are storied places where the past is palpable. They invite you to hit the road, explore, and get out in the golden New Mexico sun. It’s your chance to follow in the footsteps of indigenous people, Spanish conquistadors, Civil War soldiers, outlaws, and lawmen.”
From the brief descriptions on the website, the only footsteps I can imagine are those clad in the boots of militant occupation. In general, I see gaps in the representation of minority populations and little celebration of the borderlands people.
Perhaps more troubling to me is that there is no known process for designating future sites, and no new sites have been designated in ten years. At the very least, there are no public documents about the selection process, and no one on staff at the Department of Cultural Affairs (who oversee the cites) knows how the process works.
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We swung from tree branches like apes, our shirtless bodies not girlish with breasts that might develop in a few years, but gangly–protruding ribs that lined our chests. We broke mirrors and jammed their fractured pieces into the bark–we created a wonderland where the trees nourished us alongside its leave with sunlight, and the sun bred fireflies that would have stood the Texas summer heat. We filled our stomachs with imaginary dishes and pretended we hosted cooking shows.
First pick the grass, then stir in the dirt, and wait ten minutes. Smell it to check if it’s right. It should have an Earthy smell.
I’d read the complete tales of Uncle Remus over and over again until I could recite the stories by heart. I lined up my stuffed animals for the performance: “I know it don’t seem right, since Br’er Possum didn’t have a thing to do with the disappearance of the butter. But that’s the way of the world. ” We filled the empty house by turning on music and dancing for hours. We filled the empty cupboards with paper dolls, with paper–written poems, written prayers–taped inside. The door swung open on display:
For every cup and plateful, Lord make us truly Grateful
We were always grateful–especially of each other. My sister and I held hands walking to the bus stop. At lunch, we slid those hands under the glass display and filled our pockets with cafeteria biscuits. They were the pirates gold that we’d survey together on the bus ride home. We never got caught. And we held hands walking back down the lost dirt driveway. At night, we would change into our pajamas, and put ourselves to bed. Even if we had two rooms, we always slept together.
We would play a game at as we intertwine our legs and lay really still, whispering so no one would hear. We built our nest out of blankets and pillows and huddled together. Our chipmunk mother would be home soon, but while we waited, we would plan the next day’s scavenging. we would collect and store our food to keep it safe for the winter. We would tuck cookies in our underwear drawers, and hide cheese in the heater vents. Our stashes did not always fair so well when dairy products began rotting in the vents of our mobile home.
We felt pain but didn’t know we did not know we were hungry.
That emptiness was just a part of being young, it left space for the joy and hope. It left room for romance. My hunger pangs fueled my imagination: Laying on the particleboard floor at nine years old gently touching my stomach. I’m pregnant. I smiled and hummed to her, caressing where I imagined her foot was pressing against the inside of my skin.
We didn’t fill our childhood sitting at the table learning manners. We never learned how to hold a fork properly, how to sit without wiggling. We became excellent readers, and fierce scrabble players. We learned to carve our names in the dirt, so that by the time we were twelve, we had the signature any 30-year-old would envy.
Somehow, we always knew the food would come. But being hungry for us, was believing in God. We never knew when or where, but it always came. And when it did, we celebrated: Canned spam pan seared in stewed tomatoes, a delicacy we read our in our books.
Most families celebrate around Christmas meals, but we celebrated around every meal. And Christmas was no different; we delighted in our cinnamon apples as we sat on a living room floor with no chairs. Just apples. Our mother’s hair smells like cinnamon.
Comments closedYesterday I stood in line with Luisa waiting to have her schedule approved at the University. I stood in this same spot with her last year in August, and we hopped line to line, laughing in frustration at the inefficiency of the system.
I recall it taking a full day to register for classes, have them approved, and pay for them. With no data attached to my phone, and with the looming danger having nice electronics stolen, last year I sat in line bored, unable to talk, and hungry. I entertained myself by talking to Luisa and wondering what the people around us thought of my presence: a strange girl at the local university who couldn’t speak Spanish.
I was parallelized by the fear of walking 12 steps away to a shop selling sandwiches. Despite my hunger, Luisa was prodding me to ask for sandwich: “me vendes un sándwich por fiz.” She stuffed bills in my pockets, repeating the phrase over and over, nudging me. Be Brave. But I couldn’t do it. I handed the money back to her and asked her to step out of line to do it for me. When she came back, I was disappointed in her for not thinking to buy water. And I was disappointed in myself for not stepping up to ask for my own food. Is not that the basic skill of survival?
Yesterday, After staying up late, and standing at a street corner for 45 minutes waiting for a bus with standing space, we were tired. Luisa mentioned how maybe a Gatorade would provide her with the energy to enduring the stupidity of the waiting process. I was just bored.
I scanned the area looking for anything to relieve us, and I saw a store across the street. “Wait here,” I told Luisa. “I am going to go get us something to drink.”
When I approached the old woman running the 40 square-foot storefront, she greeted me the way it is customary in Colombia. When they say hello, they do it three times. When they say goodbye, they say it 5 times: “Buenos dias! Bienvenido. A la orden.” Her skin a lovely golden brown, and her voice both soft and harsh. Good morning! Welcome. I’m at your service if you need anything.
I asked her if she had drinks, and she pointed me to glass shelf which displayed the 6-8 options–not like the 50 choices in a US convenience store. Of the few options, half of them were juice. Not high-fructose corn syrup juice, real juice with sugar and water. For me, an apple juice box sounded good, and I got an energy drink for Luisa. I asked the woman how much I owed her and was surprised to hear only 1200 COP, the equivalent of about $1.40. I tucked my change in my pocket and wandered back to Luisa, who had advanced one place in the line since I left.
While I knew I did not want the energy drink, I offered her both drink options out of courtesy, and she left me with the apple juice. She offered me a sip, and I obliged, even knowing I hate energy drinks. They are syrupy and overly sweet. Their intense carbonation burns my nose, and they leave a sugary coating on my teeth. I took a sip anyway, and was surprised to find that it was quite different from what I expected. Yes, sweet, but not like drinking kids candy. Slightly effervescent, and citrusy. Certainly, nothing to make me cheat on my apple juice, but better than I’d thought.
I plunged my straw into the box and sipped away carelessly reflecting on the ease of my purchase. Just a year ago in nearly this same location, I was too paralyzed to buy a sandwich. Now, the act seemed natural: When you want something, go buy it. I not only learned the minimum vocabulary to make a purchase, I learned courtesy of saying hello and goodbye, how to tuck my cash away in the store before I stepped foot into the street to be safer, and how to entertain myself in line by talking to people I never could before.
When we got all the paperwork finished, we took a bus back to the house. Buses are so full in Bogota, that you are considered lucky to get a seat. We made due by sharing a seat on the way back. As we did, I realized how much I have truly changed in the last six months. Not just my accent nor my experience, but I am a braver person than I ever thought I would be. Of course, it does not require much bravery to order a sandwich or ask for some drinks. But those little braveries led to big ones, like traveling to Peru by myself and climbing Machu Picchu. Boarding buses to unknown cities for the sake of adventure.
It’s been a hell of and adventure, and I am proud of how far I have come.
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