The last quarter of the nineteenth century is often referred to as the “Golden Age” of railroad building. More track was laid in this period in North America than in any other period. The building of railroads was considered synonymous with nation building and economic progress. Railway workers were the single largest occupational group in the period and among the first workers to be employed by large-scale, corporately owned and bureaucratically managed organizations. While there is a rich historiography regarding the institutional and everyday lives of railway workers and the corporations that employed them, the unit of analysis has been primarily bounded by the nation. These national narratives leave out the north-south connections created by railroads that cut across geo-political boundaries and thus dramatically increasing the flows of people, goods and services between nations on the North American continent. Does the story change if viewed from a continental rather than national perspective? Railroad Crossings tells the story of the people and places along the route of the Grand Trunk Railroad of Canada between Montreal, Quebec and Portland, Maine and the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad (and later of the Southern Pacific) between Benson, Arizona and Guaymas, Sonora. The study first takes a comparative view of the cross-border railroad development followed by a consideration of emerging patterns and practices that suggest a broader continental continuity. The evidence demonstrates that this broader continental continuity flows from the application of a certain “railroad logic” or the impact of the essence of railroad operations that for reasons of safety and efficiency required the broad standardization of operating procedures that in many ways rendered place irrelevant.

The last quarter of the nineteenth century is often referred to as the “Golden Age” of railroad building. More track was laid in this period in North America than in any other period. The building of railroads was considered synonymous with nation building and economic progress. Railway workers were the single largest occupational group in the period and among the first workers to be employed by large-scale, corporately owned and bureaucratically managed organizations. While there is a rich historiography regarding the institutional and everyday lives of railway workers and the corporations that employed them, the unit of analysis has been primarily bounded by the nation. These national narratives leave out the north-south connections created by railroads that cut across geo-political boundaries and thus dramatically increasing the flows of people, goods and services between nations on the North American continent. Does the story change if viewed from a continental rather than national perspective? Railroad Crossings tells the story of the people and places along the route of the Grand Trunk Railroad of Canada between Montreal, Quebec and Portland, Maine and the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad (and later of the Southern Pacific) between Benson, Arizona and Guaymas, Sonora. The study first takes a comparative view of the cross-border railroad development followed by a consideration of emerging patterns and practices that suggest a broader continental continuity. The evidence demonstrates that this broader continental continuity flows from the application of a certain “railroad logic” or the impact of the essence of railroad operations that for reasons of safety and efficiency required the broad standardization of operating procedures that in many ways rendered place irrelevant.

This is a study of the early colonial period of the Río de la Plata from first contact in 1516 to the emergence of a predominantly mestizo population in Asunción by 1580. The central focus of the study is the period from 1537, when Spaniards founded Asunción in the territories of the Guaraní-speaking Carios, until the establishment of the encomienda, a colonial labour system, in 1556. Through a close reading of archival documents and chronicles, the study presents a narrative history of the transcultural dynamics of Spanish-Guaraní relations, including the convergence of kinship and alliances, cacique and conquistador rivalries, competing spiritual beliefs of shamanism and Catholicism, and the role of castaways, lenguas (interpreters) indigenous women, priests, and mestizos as intermediaries. How these transcultural dynamics were dominated by indigenous norms until 1556, and how they shaped the cultural, social, and spiritual dimensions of mestizaje (racial mixing) are analysed. The study covers key moments in the conquest and early colonial period. These include Sebastián Caboto’s exploration of the Río de la Plata from 1527 to 1529; Pedro de Mendoza’s armada to the Río de la Plata in 1535 that led to the founding of Asunción in 1537 and the first governorship of Domingo Martínez de Irala from 1539 to 1542; the rule of Asunción by Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca as adelantado from 1542 to 1544; and Domingo Martínez de Irala’s second governorship of the region from 1544 to 1556. An in-depth examination of the establishment of the encomienda is undertaken to consider how cultural identification, social status, and ethnic distinctions were reconfigured between the Cario and other Guaraní-speaking groups, the Spanish, and mestizos after 1556. The study concludes with an analysis of the Oberá Rebellion of 1579-80 as an example of how kinship and warrior norms, Christianity, and shamanistic practices converged in indigenous resistance to colonial rule.

This is a study of the early colonial period of the Río de la Plata from first contact in 1516 to the emergence of a predominantly mestizo population in Asunción by 1580. The central focus of the study is the period from 1537, when Spaniards founded Asunción in the territories of the Guaraní-speaking Carios, until the establishment of the encomienda, a colonial labour system, in 1556. Through a close reading of archival documents and chronicles, the study presents a narrative history of the transcultural dynamics of Spanish-Guaraní relations, including the convergence of kinship and alliances, cacique and conquistador rivalries, competing spiritual beliefs of shamanism and Catholicism, and the role of castaways, lenguas (interpreters) indigenous women, priests, and mestizos as intermediaries. How these transcultural dynamics were dominated by indigenous norms until 1556, and how they shaped the cultural, social, and spiritual dimensions of mestizaje (racial mixing) are analysed. The study covers key moments in the conquest and early colonial period. These include Sebastián Caboto’s exploration of the Río de la Plata from 1527 to 1529; Pedro de Mendoza’s armada to the Río de la Plata in 1535 that led to the founding of Asunción in 1537 and the first governorship of Domingo Martínez de Irala from 1539 to 1542; the rule of Asunción by Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca as adelantado from 1542 to 1544; and Domingo Martínez de Irala’s second governorship of the region from 1544 to 1556. An in-depth examination of the establishment of the encomienda is undertaken to consider how cultural identification, social status, and ethnic distinctions were reconfigured between the Cario and other Guaraní-speaking groups, the Spanish, and mestizos after 1556. The study concludes with an analysis of the Oberá Rebellion of 1579-80 as an example of how kinship and warrior norms, Christianity, and shamanistic practices converged in indigenous resistance to colonial rule.

The use of keyboard percussion instruments in choro, one of the earliest forms of Brazilian popular music, is a relatively recent phenomenon and its expansion into university music programs and relocation from small clubs and private homes to concert halls has changed the way that choro is learned and performed. For many Brazilians, this kind of innovation in a “traditional” genre represents a challenge to their notion of a Brazilian cultural identity. This study examines the dynamic relationship that Brazilians have with representations of their culture, especially in the area of popular music, through an in depth discussion of the use of keyboard percussion instruments within the genre of choro. I discuss the implications of using keyboard percussion in choro with a detailed description of its contemporary practice and a critical examination of the sociological and academic issues that surround choro historically and as practiced today. This includes an historical overview of choro and organology of keyboard percussion instruments in Brazil. I discuss multiple perspectives on the genre including a consideration of choro as part of the “world music” movement and choro’s ambiguous relationship to jazz. Through an examination of the typical instrumentation and performance conventions used in choro, I address the meanings and implications of the adaptation of those practices and of the various instrumental roles found in choro to keyboard percussion instruments. Solutions to problems relating to instrumental adaptation are offered, with particular attention to issues of notation, improvisation, rhythmic approach and the role of the cavaquinho. I also discuss the significance of rhythmic feel and suingue (swing) in relation to the concept of brasilidade (brazilianness) as informed by and expressed through Brazilian popular music.

The use of keyboard percussion instruments in choro, one of the earliest forms of Brazilian popular music, is a relatively recent phenomenon and its expansion into university music programs and relocation from small clubs and private homes to concert halls has changed the way that choro is learned and performed. For many Brazilians, this kind of innovation in a “traditional” genre represents a challenge to their notion of a Brazilian cultural identity. This study examines the dynamic relationship that Brazilians have with representations of their culture, especially in the area of popular music, through an in depth discussion of the use of keyboard percussion instruments within the genre of choro. I discuss the implications of using keyboard percussion in choro with a detailed description of its contemporary practice and a critical examination of the sociological and academic issues that surround choro historically and as practiced today. This includes an historical overview of choro and organology of keyboard percussion instruments in Brazil. I discuss multiple perspectives on the genre including a consideration of choro as part of the “world music” movement and choro’s ambiguous relationship to jazz. Through an examination of the typical instrumentation and performance conventions used in choro, I address the meanings and implications of the adaptation of those practices and of the various instrumental roles found in choro to keyboard percussion instruments. Solutions to problems relating to instrumental adaptation are offered, with particular attention to issues of notation, improvisation, rhythmic approach and the role of the cavaquinho. I also discuss the significance of rhythmic feel and suingue (swing) in relation to the concept of brasilidade (brazilianness) as informed by and expressed through Brazilian popular music.

My dissertation, Making Imperial Futures: Concepts of Empire in the Anglo-Spanish Sphere, 1763-71, engages the grand narrative of exploration at the point at which that very concept was reaching the point of exhaustion and argues that the rough completion of European cartographical knowledge of the world had a profound impact on the evolution of the imperial experience. I examine the evolving concept of empire within a context of cross-imperial knowledge and rivalry, Enlightenment ideals and the changing ways in which Europeans related to the concept of a progressive future. Furthermore, I challenge the historiographically dominant notion that the British and Spanish experiences of empire are best categorized and isolated as distinct historical subjects. The first section shows that British successes in the Seven Years’ War energised the British imperial imagination, generating a broad-based debate on how best to exploit the situation and opening up the opportunity to put more than one approach into action when Britain and Spain went to war in 1762. But the Peace of Paris brought discord, and a perceived need for the government to discipline the imperial imagination and to establish an approved pathway for the future of empire in the Atlantic world. The second part looks at how the Spanish government applied state power in direct pursuit of the pan-Atlantic imperial project. In particular, it re-examines the expulsion of the Jesuits from the Spanish empire in 1767 and makes the argument that the expulsion was a response to the perceived Jesuit threat to pan-Atlantic imperial norms. My third section suggests that the experimental burst of modern, state-centric imperialism that began in the wake of the Seven Years’ War suffered a reversal during the Falklands Crisis of 1770-1, during the general historical moment in which Europeans finished constructing their shared cartographical conception of the world. Although the growth of state power and impetus was temporarily reversed to some extent in the 1770s, this period helps prefigure the more extensive shift from empires primarily based on exploration and tenuous consolidation to empires that depended on dense, active exploitation to lend validity to their ontological claims.

My dissertation, Making Imperial Futures: Concepts of Empire in the Anglo-Spanish Sphere, 1763-71, engages the grand narrative of exploration at the point at which that very concept was reaching the point of exhaustion and argues that the rough completion of European cartographical knowledge of the world had a profound impact on the evolution of the imperial experience. I examine the evolving concept of empire within a context of cross-imperial knowledge and rivalry, Enlightenment ideals and the changing ways in which Europeans related to the concept of a progressive future. Furthermore, I challenge the historiographically dominant notion that the British and Spanish experiences of empire are best categorized and isolated as distinct historical subjects. The first section shows that British successes in the Seven Years’ War energised the British imperial imagination, generating a broad-based debate on how best to exploit the situation and opening up the opportunity to put more than one approach into action when Britain and Spain went to war in 1762. But the Peace of Paris brought discord, and a perceived need for the government to discipline the imperial imagination and to establish an approved pathway for the future of empire in the Atlantic world. The second part looks at how the Spanish government applied state power in direct pursuit of the pan-Atlantic imperial project. In particular, it re-examines the expulsion of the Jesuits from the Spanish empire in 1767 and makes the argument that the expulsion was a response to the perceived Jesuit threat to pan-Atlantic imperial norms. My third section suggests that the experimental burst of modern, state-centric imperialism that began in the wake of the Seven Years’ War suffered a reversal during the Falklands Crisis of 1770-1, during the general historical moment in which Europeans finished constructing their shared cartographical conception of the world. Although the growth of state power and impetus was temporarily reversed to some extent in the 1770s, this period helps prefigure the more extensive shift from empires primarily based on exploration and tenuous consolidation to empires that depended on dense, active exploitation to lend validity to their ontological claims.

Master of Arts / Department of History / Charles W. Sanders / On September 13, 1950, in a culmination of three years of efforts by organizations and individuals inside and outside the Harry S. Truman administration, 69 captured battle flags from the Mexican-American War were formally returned to the Mexican government at a ceremony in Mexico City. The events surrounding the return of flags to Mexico occurred in two distinct phases. The first was a small, secretive, and largely symbolic return of three flags conceived and carried out by high-ranking U.S. government officials in June 1947. The second large-scale, public return of the remaining flags in the custody of the War Department was initiated by the American Legion and enacted by the United States Congress. Despite their differences, both returns were heavily influenced by contemporary events, primarily the presidential election of 1948 and the escalation of the Cold War. Also, although the second return was much more extensive than the President originally intended, it was only through his full support that either return was accomplished. In the decades since 1950, historians have either ignored the return of Mexican battle flags or focused instead on Truman’s wreath laying at the monument to the niños héroes in Mexico City in March 1947. This study, for the first time, provides an in-depth description of the efforts to return captured Mexican battle flags and explains why these war trophies were returned while others have remained in the United States. The goal of this investigation is to present the efforts of the Truman administration for what they truly were: an unprecedented act of international friendship. Although the actions of the U.S. government and private organizations were partially influenced by self-interest and Cold War fears, their primary motivation was a sincere desire to erase the painful memories surrounding the Mexican-American War of 1846-1848 in an effort to improve future relations between the two countries. Many historians point to the Truman administration as the end of the Good Neighbor Policy toward Latin America. This study, however, argues that the return of captured Mexican battle flags represents the true pinnacle of the United States’ Good Neighbor Policy toward its southern neighbor.

This work brings an anti-colonial reading to the production and maintenance of racial logic in Cuban schooling, through conversations with, and surveys of Cuban teachers, as well as through analysis of secondary and primary documents. The study undertaken seeks to contribute to the limited existent research on race relations in Cuba, with a research focus on the Cuban educational context. Teasing and staking out a middle ground between the blinding and often hollow pro-Cuba fanaticism and the deafening anti -Cuban rhetoric from the left and right respectively, this project seeks a more nuanced, complete and dialogical understanding of race and race relations in Cuba, with a specific focus on the educational context. With this in mind, the learning objectives of this study are to investigate the following: 1) What role does racism play in Cuba currently and historically? 2) What is the role of education in the life of race and racism on the island? 3) What new questions and insights emerge from the Cuban example that might be of use to integrated anti-racism, anti-colonialism and class-oriented scholarship and activism? On a more specific level, the guiding research objectives of the study are to investigate the following: 1) How do teachers support and/or challenge dominant ideas of race and racism, and to what degree to do they construct their own meanings on these topics? 2) How do teachers understand the relevance of race and racism for teaching and learning? 3) How and why do teachers address race and racism in the classroom? The data reveal a complex process of meaning making by teachers who are at once produced by and producers of dominant race discourse on the island. Teachers are the front line race workers of the racial project, doing much of the heavy lifting in the ongoing struggle against racism, but are at the same time custodians of an approach to race relations which has on the whole failed to eliminate racism. This work investigates and explicates this apparent contradiction inherent in teachers’ work and discourse on the island, revealing a flawed and complex form of Cuban anti-racism.