In this book Joan Wallach Scott discusses the role history has played as an arbiter of right and wrong and of those who claim to act in its name—"in the name of history." Scott investigates three different instances in which repudiation of the past was conceived as a way to a better future: the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg in 1946, the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission in 1996, and the ongoing movement for reparations for slavery in the United States. Scott shows how in these cases history was not only used to explain the past but to produce a particular future. Yet both past and future were subject to the political realities of their time and defined in terms of moral absolutes, often leading to deep contradictions. These three instances demonstrate that history is not an impartial truth, rather its very meaning is constructed by those who act in its name.

Winner, 2019 Saul Viener Book Prize, given by the American Jewish Historical Society A groundbreaking history of the practice of Jewish name changing in the 20th century, showcasing just how much is in a name Our thinking about Jewish name changing tends to focus on clichés: ambitious movie stars who adopted glamorous new names or insensitive Ellis Island officials who changed immigrants’ names for them. But as Kirsten Fermaglich elegantly reveals, the real story is much more profound. Scratching below the surface, Fermaglich examines previously unexplored name change petitions to upend the clichés, revealing that in twentieth-century New York City, Jewish name changing was actually a broad-based and voluntary behavior: thousands of ordinary Jewish men, women, and children legally changed their names in order to respond to an upsurge of antisemitism. Rather than trying to escape their heritage or “pass” as non-Jewish, most name-changers remained active members of the Jewish community. While name changing allowed Jewish families to avoid antisemitism and achieve white middle-class status, the practice also created pain within families and became a stigmatized, forgotten aspect of American Jewish culture. This first history of name changing in the United States offers a previously unexplored window into American Jewish life throughout the twentieth century. A Rosenberg by Any Other Name demonstrates how historical debates about immigration, antisemitism and race, class mobility, gender and family, the boundaries of the Jewish community, and the power of government are reshaped when name changing becomes part of the conversation. Mining court documents, oral histories, archival records, and contemporary literature, Fermaglich argues convincingly that name changing had a lasting impact on American Jewish culture. Ordinary Jews were forced to consider changing their names as they saw their friends, family, classmates, co-workers, and neighbors do so. Jewish communal leaders and civil rights activists needed to consider name changers as part of the Jewish community, making name changing a pivotal part of early civil rights legislation. And Jewish artists created critical portraits of name changers that lasted for decades in American Jewish culture. This book ends with the disturbing realization that the prosperity Jews found by changing their names is not as accessible for the Chinese, Latino, and Muslim immigrants who wish to exercise that right today.

In this revelatory and genuinely groundbreaking study, François Furstenberg sheds new light on the genesis of American identity. Immersing us in the publishing culture of the early nineteenth century, he shows us how the words of George Washington and others of his generation became America's sacred scripture and provided the foundation for a new civic culture, one whose reconciliation with slavery unleashed consequences that haunt us still. A dazzling work of scholarship from a brilliant young historian, In the Name of the Father is a major contribution to American social history.

Opened only nine years after the Catholic academy in Boston was destroyed by nativists, the College of the Holy Cross was a pet project of Boston's second bishop, Benedict Fenwick--a Jesuit college in the midst of Yankee New England. At first an isolated, exclusively Catholic operation offering a seven-year humanities program, the College failed to obtain a charter by the Massachusetts General Court until 1865. After 1900, Holy Cross became a four-year college in the American pattern and advanced to its present level by integrating important principles of Jesuit liberal arts education with the academic traditions of the strongest educational region in the nation. Utilizing the universal Jesuit Plan of Studies, the college's leaders at first stressed connections with other Jesuit institutions in a program that emphasized classical languages, philosophy, history, mathematics, and natural sciences. About 1900, a second era began when the curriculum was altered to bring Holy Cross into conformity with the modern educational pattern: college offerings were amplified and the prep school was dropped. During the 1960s, a third era opened. It was characterized by coeducation, a more open curriculum, growing involvement of non-Jesuit faculty and administrators, the transition to a board of lay trustees, and rising academic standards as Holy Cross took its place as the foremost Jesuit school among four-year liberal arts colleges. Thy Honored Name highlights the confluence of two strong educational traditions--Puritan and Jesuit--and the growing appreciation of their compatibility. It is also an account of efforts to promote academic excellence without losing an authentically Jesuit identity in a region where many formerly religious schools have become secular. The book will hold interest for persons who study educational and religious history, for individuals interested in the development of New England and Worcester, and for friends of Holy Cross. Anthony J. Kuzniewski, S.J., is professor of history and rector of the Jesuit Community at the College of the Holy Cross. "Anthony Kuzniewski, SJ, professor of history in the College of Holy Cross, can tell a good story. Others have written histories of Holy Cross, but none has matched his literary skill and historical acumen. This is genuine history, not a celebratory essay. The author's thoroughness and attention to detail persuade one that no relevant document illuminating the college's history has been overlooked. . . . It is a handsome, almost flawless volume, that scholars and others interested in American higher education are sure to welcome."--Catholic Historical Review "Kuzniewski has ultimately crafted an ample, widely encompassing institutional biography that is balanced, fair and interesting. An in so doing, he reminds us that an academic institution can achieve excellence and relevance even as it remains proud of its antique beginnings."--Connection

A look at a small North Carolina towns history as it celebrates its centennial, with archival photographs and beautifully illustrated maps by artist David Wilgus.

‘Fascinating...I’ll never look at a rose in quite the same way again.’ Adrian Tinniswood The rose is bursting with meaning. Over the centuries it has come to represent love and sensuality, deceit, death and the mystical unknown. Today the rose enjoys unrivalled popularity across the globe, ever present at life’s seminal moments. Grown in the Middle East two thousand years ago for its pleasing scent and medicinal properties, it has become one of the most adored flowers across cultures, no longer selected by nature, but by us. The rose is well-versed at enchanting human hearts. From Shakespeare’s sonnets to Bulgaria’s Rose Valley to the thriving rose trade in Africa and the Far East, via museums, high fashion, Victorian England and Belle Epoque France, we meet an astonishing array of species and hybrids of remarkably different provenance. This is the story of a hardy, thorny flower and how, by beauty and charm, it came to seduce the world.

The cumulative evidence presented here proves that the origin of the surname Wyckoff is Frisian and refers to a household or settlement on a bay, although many uninformed American descendants of Pieter Claessen Wyckoff continue to believe the name to be Dutch. Frisian was only one of the many languages spoken by early settlers of New Netherland. In the Northern Germanic linguistic area of Europe, the surname occurs principally in the Lower Saxony area of Germany which includes East Frisia from where our American ancestor emigrated. Amid the proliferation of costly false and inaccurate information being disseminated on popular interactive genealogy websites, the author suggests corrective measures that could be taken by professional genealogical societies and family associations such as the Wyckoff Association of America.