Academic literature on the topic 'Father Flanagan's Boys' Home'

Abstract “Being Born in 1937,” wrote Ruby Anglea in 1990, “and my father serving in World War II, I thought I could be of some help to you in gathering information for your book. But the strangest thing happened shortly after I began to write down my memories-I couldn’t. I was recalling my father being separated from us, then my mother leaving to join him in a stateside camp, my living with my grandparents-and suddenly as if I was paralyzed I could go no further.” Ruby was not alone. To these homefront girls and boys, nothing was more unsettling than the father’s departure for military service. In other families, the wartime absence of an older brother was equally upsetting. The safety of uncles, cousins, and neighborhood fathers and brothers also concerned boys and girls. These were anxious and painful years for the home front children.

This chapter features the Koh family, who lived in a modest home located within an affluent suburban school district. The parents had worked various jobs in the service sector (primarily as owners or workers at a dry cleaner, with the father driving school buses to supplement income) and moved from Chicago city proper to an affluent suburb for better educational opportunity for their two teen boys. The Koh family is notable for the parents’ (especially the mother’s) concern about their older son’s masculinity and racial identity, in light of what the parents felt they experienced as targets of racism in their work lives. She worried that her Asian American son was seen as a “doormat” by his affluent White peers and encouraged his athletic pursuits as a countermeasure. The chapter follows the family’s immigration experience and parenting strategies, which were colored by various racial indignities and injustices, taking note of the fact that this family’s central concerns were not about fostering high academic achievement but about fortifying their sons with social capital to navigate the racialized landscape of their adopted home.

Abstract With A Little Imagination we can see the young John Winthrop, aged eight, on a hot August morning in 1596, climbing Pitches Mount, the ancient earthwork about a half mile from his home. Together with some friends he was pretending to be living in a time when Saxon warriors built such fortifications to defend their settlements. On the Mount, away from the view of their parents, the youngsters could transport themselves back into those distant days and engage in playful recreations of battles, just as boys seem to have always done. On this day they approached the Mount from the east, having earlier in the day explored Groton Wood, the dense forest that brooded over the open fields of the region. Carrying bows and arrows, they were always alert for hares, a common feature of the land- scape. But John also kept track of the passing of time, as marked by the sun ‘s journey across the clear Suffolk sky. His father was expecting a visit from John Knewstub, the pastor of nearby Cockfield, and young John— fashioning himself in his mind as a clergyman—tried never to miss a chance to observe and listen to his father ‘s clerical friends.

This chapter assesses the dreams that the author experienced. It narrates the first dream in which the author seemed to wish to merge young Orthodox American boys today, not only with those Jewish children murdered by the Nazis and their local henchmen, but perhaps as well with the fragmented memories of an imagined, more whole or “authentic” Jewish childhood in eastern Europe. The chapter reveals that the impulse to repair the breach of memory — and perhaps his ambivalence about that impulse — is certainly part of his impulse for studying at Mesivtha Tifereth Jerusalem (MTJ), as it has directed his professional life for the past four decades. In another dream, it was about his mother's father, Yeshaya Kravits, who somehow became Cyrus Weltman in America. In this dream, they were bringing him home to live with them. Ultimately, the chapter analyzes Nasanel's remarkable gift — the ability to extend time, or to defy the shackles of quantified, linear time.

Abstract In the mid-1950s, Philip Goldberg was a young Dodgers fan growing up in Brooklyn. He and his friends played stickball in the streets with mop handles and hairless pink rubber balls known as ‘‘spaldeens.’’ As many as fifteen times a season, he passed through the gates of Ebbets Field to see the great Jackie Robinson take the field, and he watched many other games on television, either at home or at a neighborhood luncheonette. But Goldberg was not merely a passive observer. He helped the Dodgers win. He had a lucky blue Dodgers hat that he wore during every game, and a yellowed Dodgers T-shirt that was imbued with magical powers. Like many boys, he was concerned that the bill of his cap have just the right degree of curl, so at the end of the day, he would roll it into a cylinder and stick it in a drinking glass overnight. Soon he came to believe that this nightly ritual maintained the hat’s power to make the Dodgers win. Although Goldberg’s own baseball magic benefited the Dodgers, his mother was a jinx. On several occasions, when he and his father were watching crucial games, such as those against the Giants in the 1951 National League playoffs, the team’s fortunes changed as soon as Mrs. Goldberg entered the room. Bobby Thomson hit a home run to win the pennant for the Giants, or some other calamity befell the home team.

Abstract Early years of childhood, for boys as well as girls, would have been spent at home with the mother, and there is no reason to doubt that, generally speaking, a strong bond existed between a mother and her children. 1 But while Athenians recognized the affective power of the maternal bond, a mother played only a small role in determining a childߣs public or private identity. So, while Aristotle claims that mothers love their children more than fathers, he still asserts that the child is part of its father until it reaches a certain age. 2 In the case of widowhood or divorce, children of a marriage usually remained in their fatherߣs house while their mother returned to her father's house. 3 If a man had had a daughter but no sons, the sons of his daughter (who in this situation was called an epikleros) would inherit his property, but they were only considered to be the true continuance of their maternal grandfather's line if one of his close male relatives (e.g. his brother or first cousin) were the father.4 A woman was not thought capable of perpetuating her fatherߣs line without an infusion of the familyߣs male principle in her offspring. In such a culture, theories of reproduction were bound to emphasize the importance of the male component over the female. In the realm of mythology this emphasis took the form of stories

Dr. Dorothy J. Phillips (Fig. 2.1) is a retired industrial chemist and a member of the Board of Directors of the ACS. Dorothy Jean Wingfield was born in Nashville, Tennessee on July 27, 1945, the third of eight children, five girls and three boys. She was the second girl and is very close to her older sister. Dorothy grew up in a multi- generational home as both her grandmothers often lived with them. Her father, Reverend Robert Cam Wingfield Sr., born in 1905, was a porter at the Greyhound Bus station and went to school in the evenings after he was called to the ministry. He was very active in his church as the superintendent of the Sunday school; he became a pastor after receiving an associate’s degree in theology and pastoral studies from the American Baptist Theological Seminary. Her mother, Rebecca Cooper Wingfield, occasionally did domestic work. On these occasions, Dorothy’s maternal grandmother would take care of the children. Dorothy’s mother was also very active in civic and school activities, attending the local meetings and conferences of the segregated Parent Teachers Association (PTA) called the Negro Parent Teachers Association or Colored PTA. For that reason, she was frequently at the schools to talk with her children’s teachers. She also worked on a social issue with the city to move people out of the dilapidated slum housing near the Capitol. The town built government subsidized housing to relocate people from homes which did not have indoor toilets and electricity. She was also active in her Baptist church as a Mother, or Deaconess, counseling young women, especially about her role as the minister’s wife. When Dorothy went to school in 1951, Nashville schools were segregated and African American children went to the schools in their neighborhoods. But Dorothy’s elementary, junior high, and high schools were segregated even though the family lived in a predominately white neighborhood. This was because around 1956, and after Rosa Park’s bus boycott in Montgomery, AL, her father, like other ministers, became more active in civil rights and one of his actions was to move to a predominately white neighborhood.