The history of Arizona is filled with ambitious pioneers, courageous Natives, and loyal soldiers, but there is a seeming disconnect between those who came before us and many of those who currently inhabit this space. Many historic locations that are vital to discovering the past in Arizona are both hard to find and lacking in information pertaining to what happened there. However, despite the apparent lack of history and knowledge pertaining to these locations, they are vitally present in the public memory of the region, and we wish to shed some much-needed light on a few of these locations and the historical takeaways that can be gleaned from their study. This thesis argues the significance of three concepts: place-making, public memory, and stories. Place-making is the reinvention of history in the theater of mind which creates a plausible reality of the past through what is known in the present. Public memory is a way to explain how events in a location affect the public consciousness regarding that site and further events that stem from it. Lastly, stories about a place and event help to explain its overall impact and what can be learned from the occurrences there. Throughout this thesis we will be discussing seven sites across Arizona, the events that occurred there, and how these three aspects of study can be used to experience history in a personal way that gives us a special perspective on the land around us. The importance of personalizing history lies in finding our own identity as inhabitants of this land we call home and knowing the stories gives us greater attachment to the larger narrative of humanity as it has existed in this space.

The history of Arizona is filled with ambitious pioneers, courageous Natives, and loyal<br/>soldiers, but there is a seeming disconnect between those who came before us and many of those<br/>who currently inhabit this space. Many historic locations that are vital to discovering the past in<br/>Arizona are both hard to find and lacking in information pertaining to what happened there.<br/>However, despite the apparent lack of history and knowledge pertaining to these locations, they<br/>are vitally present in the public memory of the region, and we wish to shed some much-needed<br/>light on a few of these locations and the historical takeaways that can be gleaned from their<br/>study. This thesis argues the significance of three concepts: place-making, public memory, and<br/>stories. Place-making is the reinvention of history in the theater of mind which creates a<br/>plausible reality of the past through what is known in the present. Public memory is a way to<br/>explain how events in a location affect the public consciousness regarding that site and further<br/>events that stem from it. Lastly, stories about a place and event help to explain its overall impact<br/>and what can be learned from the occurrences there. Throughout this thesis we will be discussing<br/>seven sites across Arizona, the events that occurred there, and how these three aspects of study<br/>can be used to experience history in a personal way that gives us a special perspective on the<br/>land around us. The importance of personalizing history lies in finding our own identity as<br/>inhabitants of this land we call home and knowing the stories gives us greater attachment to the<br/>larger narrative of humanity as it has existed in this space.

This dissertation seeks to understand two universal experiences that have pervaded human society since man first climbed out of the trees: violence and trauma. Using theories gleaned from the Holocaust and other twentieth century atrocities, this work explores narratives of violent action and traumatic reaction as they occurred among peoples of the nineteenth-century American Southwest. By examining the stories of individuals and groups of Apaches, Ethnic Mexicans, Euro-Americans, and other diverse peoples within the lens of trauma studies, a new narrative emerges within US-Mexico borderlands history. This narrative reveals inter-generational legacies of violence among cultural groups that have lived through trauma and caused trauma within others. For both victims and perpetrators alike, trauma and violence can transform into tools of cultural construction and adaptation.

Part I of this work establishes the concept of ethnotrauma-- a layered experience of collective trauma among minority populations under racial persecution. By following stories of Mescalero, Chiricahua, and Warm Springs Apaches in the nineteenth-century Southwest, this dissertation reveals how Apaches grappled with ethnotrauma through generations during times of war, imprisonment, and exile. These narratives also reveal how Apaches overcame these legacies of pain through communal solidarity and cultural continuity. Part II explores the concept of perpetrator trauma. By following stories of Mexican norteños, Mexican-Americans on the US-Mexico border, and American settlers, the impact of trauma on violators also comes to light. The concept perpetrator trauma in this context denotes the long-term cultural impacts of committing violence among perpetrating communities. For perpetrating groups, violence became a method of affirming and, in some cases, reconstructing group identity through opposition to other groups. Finally, at the heart of this work stands two critical symbols-- Geronimo, victim and villain, and the land itself, hostile and healing-- that reveal how cycles of violence entangled ethnotrauma and perpetrator trauma within individuals struggling to survive and thrive in a savage land.

In 1915, a bear slew and consumed seven residents of a farming hamlet in Hokkaido, Japan. The circumstances surrounding these killings are laden with semiotic gravitas. A comprehensive analysis of the millennia of historical forces that preceded and begat Japan's modern shift is impractical. Rather it is through the identification of the ideal précis of change, and a Thick Analysis thereof, that I arrive at an understanding of how, and precisely when, Japan crossed modernity's rampart. The attacks perpetrated by, and the hunt and dispatch of, the bear include aspects of separation from the past vis a vis their relationship to religion, the Ainu, and the artifacts of daily life. The bear's presence and anthropophagous propensity relate to the primal human urge to practice arctolatry, and Japanese patterns of relationship between men, land, and animals. So too is the gory nature of the incident analytically valuable insofar as macabre events resonate in the breasts of men. Finally, the presence of a monster indicates, as per Jeffrey Jerome Cohen, an epochal liminality. Thus through a disarticulation of this incident, I arrive at a cogent understanding of what sundered Japan from her past.

This dissertation examines the conception, planning, creation, and management of Fort Union National Monument (FOUN) in northeastern New Mexico. Over approximately the last eighty-five years, writers, bureaucrats, boosters, and the National Park Service (NPS) have all been engaged in several different kinds of place-making at FOUN: the development of a written historical narrative about what kind of place Fort Union was (and is); the construction of a physical site; and the accompanying interpretive guidance for experiencing it.

All of these place-making efforts make claims about why Fort Union is a place worthy of commemoration, its historical significance, and its relationship to local, regional, national and international contexts. The creation and evolution of Fort Union National Monument as a memorial landscape and a place for communion with an imagined past—in short, a site of memory and public history—is only the latest chapter in a long history of migration, conflict, shifting ownership, and land use at that site. I examine the evolution of a sense of place at Fort Union in two broad time periods: the twenty-five years leading up to the monument’s establishment, and the seven decades of NPS management after it was created.

Taken as a case study, the story of FOUN raises a number of questions about the basic mission and meaning of NPS as a cultural institution and educational organization; how the agency conceptualizes and “talks about” Native Americans and the Indian Wars; the history and practice of public history; and how best to address sites like Fort Union that seek to historicize America’s imperial past.

This study sought the lived and told stories of Native American women working in engineering and technology so that their voices may be heard in engineering education scholarship and challenge assumptions surrounding universal understandings of what it means to be a minority woman in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM). The study was directed by two research questions: (1) What are the lived and told stories of Native women in engineering and technology who are leading initiatives to improve their Native communities and (2) How do Native women’s understandings of their identities influence their work and acts of leadership? The study employed narrative inquiry as the methodological framework and was guided by theoretical frameworks of identities as constructed, multiple, and intersectional (Crenshaw, 1989; Tajfel & Turner, 1979), hybridity, and “third spaces” (Bhabha, 2012). The inquiry was also informed by feminist theories of Native scholars (Green, 1983; Kidwell, 1978) and engineering education (Beddoes & Borrego, 2011; Riley, Pawley, Tucker, & Catalano, 2009). The narrative analysis presented three narratives, based upon interviews, field notes, observations, and documents: (1) the story of a Navajo woman working within a large technical corporation (Jaemie); (2) the story of an Akimel O’odham-Mexican woman working within a tribally-owned technical business (Mia); and (3) the story of a Navajo woman growing her own technical business (Catherine). The narratives revealed a series of impactful transitions that enabled Jaemie, Mia, and Catherine to work and lead in engineering and technology. The transitions revolved around themes of becoming professionals, encountering and overcoming hardship, seeking to connect and contribute to Natives through work, leading change for their Native communities, and advancing their professional selves and their Native communities. Across the transitions, a transformation emerged from cultural navigation to leadership for the creation of new hybrid spaces that represented innovative sites of opportunity for Native communities. The strength of the Native spaces enabled Jaemie, Mia, and Catherine to leverage their identities as Native women within the global context of engineering and technology. The narratives denote the power of story by contributing the depth and richness of lived realities in engineering and technology.

This dissertation explores how historical changes in education shaped Diné collective identity and community by examining the interconnections between Navajo students, their people, and Diné Bikéyah (Navajo lands). Farina King investigates the ongoing influence of various schools as colonial institutions among the Navajo from the 1930s to 1990 in the southwestern United States. The question that guides this research is how institutional schools, whether far, near, or on the reservation, affected Navajo students’ sense of home and relationships with their Indigenous community during the twentieth century.

The study relies on a Diné historical framework that centers on a Navajo mapping of the world and earth memory compass. The four directions of their sacred mountains orient the Diné towards hózhǫ́, the ideal of society, a desirable state of being that most translate as beauty, harmony, or happiness. Their sacred mountains mark Diné Bikéyah and provide an earth memory compass in Navajo life journeys that direct them from East, to South, to West, and to North. These four directions and the symbols associated with them guide this overarching narrative of Navajo educational experiences from the beginning of Diné learning in their home communities, to the adolescent stages of their institutionalized schooling, to the recent maturity of hybrid Navajo-American educational systems. After addressing the Diné ancestral teachings of the East, King focuses on the student experiences of interwar Crownpoint Boarding School to the South, the postwar Tuba City Boarding School and Leupp Boarding School to the West, and self-determination in Monument Valley to the North.

This study primarily analyzes oral histories and cultural historical methodologies to feature Diné perspectives, which reveal how the land and the mountains serve as focal points of Navajo worldviews. The land defines Diné identity, although many Navajos have adapted to different life pathways. Therefore, land, environment, and nature constituted integral parts and embeddedness of Diné knowledge and epistemology that external educational systems, such as federal schools, failed to overcome in the twentieth century.

This study examines history museums in Arizona and New Mexico to determine whether New Western History themes are prevalent, twenty years after the term was conceived. Patricia Limerick is credited with using the expression in the 1980s, but she had to promote the concept frequently and for many years. There was resistance to changing from the Frederick Jackson Turner thesis of looking at the frontier as an expansion from the East, even while others were already writing more current historiography.

Limerick’s four “Cs”—continuity, convergence, conquest, and complexity—took a view of the West from the West, worthy of a separate perspective. These themes also allowed historians to reflect on what was happening locally, how and why various people were interacting, how there was less of a benevolent imbuing of European culture on Native Americans than there was a conquest of indigenous people, and how resource extraction created complex situations for all living things. While scholarly works were changing to provide relevant material based on these themes, museums were receiving thousands of visitors every year and may have been providing the Anglo-centric view of events or creating more inclusive displays. Label texts could have been either clarifying or confusing to a history loving audience.

Three types of museums were visited to determine whether there was a difference in display based on governing body. National Park Service sites, state sponsored institutions, and local city-based museums served as the study material. The age of the existing long-term exhibits ranged from brand new to fifty-one years extant. As important to the use of New Western History themes as the term of the current exhibit was the type of governing body.

Monographs, essays, and museum exhibits are all important to the dissemination of history. How they relate and how current they are to each other creates an opportunity for both academic and museum professional historians to reflect on the delivery systems used to enlighten a history-loving public.

ABSTRACT

This dissertation examines the encounter of a large cadre of 103 Roman Catholic priests from Ireland and their Mexican parishioners. Scholars have not explored this rich historical juncture. This is the first study to do so. Primary and secondary sources, as well as numerous oral history interviews provide the evidence that supports the thesis that the Irish priests and the Mexican people shared something of a common consciousness, resulting from similar histories, worldviews, and cultural values. This counters the prevailing scholarly opinion which excoriates Euroamerican churchmen of that time for misunderstanding and neglecting their Hispanic flock. Standing apart in this respect, most priests from Ireland--unlike clergy from other backgrounds-- were sympathetic to folk traditions and experienced a synergy with Mexican people which enabled them to adapt and learn from Hispanic communities.

Yet for all that Irish priests and Mexicans shared in common, these pastors failed to see or at least address the social, economic, and ecclesiastical discrimination which Mexicans daily experienced or challenge the systems which kept them subservient. Paradoxically, these clergy accepted Mexican people, but they also accepted the racist structures which marginalized them.

This historical moment is unique for two reasons. In the mid-twentieth century Irish-born priests were ubiquitous and constituted the largest number of Catholic missionaries in the world. Today there are scarcely enough priests to supply the parishes of Ireland. Similarly, in the mid- twentieth century Mexicanos and Mexican Americans were almost without exception Catholic.

Today this can no longer be taken for granted. These shifts presage the end of an era for the Church in Arizona. Nationally, they correspond to the denouement of long-standing U.S. Irish ecclesiastical establishment and herald the ascendancy of an Hispanic Catholic Church.

In reconstructing this history salient themes emerge: ethnicity, religion (official/popular), power relations, prejudice/discrimination, and the discovery of common ground amid differences. This matrix gives rise to a complex crisscrossing of trajectories of Catholics and Protestants (in society), Irish and Mexican Catholics (in the church), priest and parishioners (in the parish). It holds lessons for the future.