The Ugly Duckling Shines in Lincoln Park: The Rich Meaning of the Hans Christian Andersen Monument in Chicago

From The Little Mermaid to The Ugly Duckling, Hans Christian Andersen’s famous fairy tales are known high and low around the world. His stories have graced pages of books, poems, and art as well as the big screen with movies, TV shows, and even plays and Broadway musicals. The Hans Christian Andersen monument located in Lincoln Park in Chicago, Illinois pays homage to the innovative writer from Denmark [1]. However, the famed Danish man known by many did not start out as a lovely swan. Much like his story The Ugly Duckling, Hans Christian Andersen had to go through a rough life to get to the fame and glory he has now that inspired a group of Danish immigrants to create a monument to represent their country and heritage.

Thora Hallager, “Hans Christian Andersen,” October 1869.

Hans Christian Andersen was born on April 2, 1805 in Odense, Denmark to a poor shoemaker and a washerwoman [2]. The creator and storyteller inside Hans came out at an early age as he was known to tell stories to other children in elementary school [3]. However, Hans had family issues that made him scared to dive completely into his mind of wonder and fantasy. His grandfather, an actor, had gone mad, and Hans was waiting for his time to come where he too would run around the streets in flowers singing at the top of his lungs [4]. His mother, seeing Hans worried and anxious, decided to try to cure him of his worries. She did everything from taking him to a religious well to bringing him to a wise woman who made him wear a bag around his neck “containing some churchyard earth and a mole’s heart” [5]. After his father had died, his step-father, a dull grey man compared to the bright book-loving man his father was, found no use for Hans as he was becoming more in his head as he grew older [6]. Luckily for Hans, a fortune-teller came by the family’s house and read his fortune as: “‘Something great and fine in the world. The time will come when all Odense will be illuminated for him’” [7]. After hearing this, at the ripe age of fourteen, Hans set off to Copenhagen to try to make a mark on the world with his creativity and imagination [8].

While in Copenhagen, Hans tried his luck at almost anything that had to do with the arts. It wasn’t until he met “Jonas Collin, a benevolent Director of the Royal Theatre and one of the King’s Councillors” that Hans’ life in Copenhagen started to look up [9]. Collin had received a grant from the king to send Hans to “the Latin School at Slagelse under Simon Meisling” [10]. At school, Hans learned Latin, German, and French and continuously read in Danish, German, French, and even some English [11]. Hans also continued to write and create stories in his head at school.

After he graduated school, Hans went back to Collins’ family, but ended up traveling around Europe after the king granted him a traveling stipend [12]. When he returned to Denmark, Hans questioned whether he should continue writing or stop for a normal job that would bring him a consistent living. Collins encouraged Hans to continue writing, and after two years, he published his first “Fairy Stories,” a pamphlet containing four stories that would eventually be the first stepping stone on his path to greatness [13]. Hans’ writing only continued from the first pamphlet as his stories exploded onto the writing scene. Eventually, after his famous works of today like The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling, The Nightingale, and more were published, the king of Denmark gave Hans a fixed income for his contribution to the writing world in the name of Denmark [14]. In his old age, Hans returned to Odense to find that the town had transformed into a beacon for him, just as the fortune-teller had predicted when he was fourteen [15]. Finally, the ugly duckling had become the swan he was destined to be.

The monument in Lincoln Park pays homage to Hans and represents more than just his literary mark on the world. After the American Civil War, monuments and statues of influential people were being put up in remembrance and honor of heritage [16]. Immigrants started doing the same as they wanted to remember their homeland and heritage that they had left behind [17]. Danish immigrants were no exception to this, especially as a huge influx of Danish Americans came to Chicago in 1891 [18].

While the Danish immigrants started thinking about ideas for the monument’s specifics, they knew they wanted to place the monument in one of Chicago’s beautiful parks as they had a desire to “give a good account of the culture of their homeland in America” [19]. Hans Christian Andersen was, of course, the first idea that popped into the immigrants’ heads as someone to represent their homeland of Denmark. Not only was Hans an influential writer in Europe, but also in America as his stories had spread across miles of the Atlantic Ocean to grace American homes and libraries [20]. He was the perfect person to showcase and honor Danish heritage and culture, but with the overwhelming certainty that the immigrants, and future immigrants, would keep their culture in America as well as America accepting their culture in return.

In 1981, a committee named “The Hans Christian Andersen Monument Association” was created and set forth on creating the monument that would be a symbol of Danish pride [21]. The committee chose Johannes Gelert, a sculptor who, like Andersen, moved to Copenhagen around the age of fourteen, as the artist for the monument [22]. However, a large problem arose with the monument. As one can expect, an eight foot tall bronze statue on a large granite pedestal is no cheap endeavor [23]. The committee had been getting small donations from Danish circles all across America and even small school-aged children donated with the change they had, but it was not enough and the monument was postponed indefinitely [24]. This did not stop the Danish-American community in Chicago from giving up. New ways to get money for the monument, like bazaars and concerts and new subscription lists, were thought of and executed ending in a possible date for the monument to be announced [25].

Finally, on September 26, 1896, the Hans Christian Andersen monument in Lincoln Park was unveiled to the public [26]. The statue of Hans is made out of bronze, and is a beautiful piece of art. Hans is sitting on a tree stump with a book on his lap. His finger is tucked inside it to hold his place as he looks out into the park. Beside him is a majestic swan. The statue sits atop a large granite pedestal that bears the letters “HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.”

Wikimedia Commons. Accessed November 15, 2020.

The monument is an impressive and beautiful reminder to the Danish-American community in Chicago that they did not leave their heritage in Denmark when they left for a new life in America. It was the opposite in fact. Similar to a lot of monuments, this one stands as a physical reminder of something that cannot be seen outright. Sure heritage and culture can be seen from the food that is on the dinner table or the traditions families follow each year, but heritage and culture are like love, sometimes we need a physical reminder that we have it, and it cannot be taken from us. The Hans Christian Andersen monument stands as a beacon for current and new Danish-Americans that they did not leave anything but a country behind. Their costumes, traditions, and way of life are always ingrained in their bodies and minds. Similar to Hans’ story of the ugly duckling, the Danish immigrants felt as if they were an ugly duckling in the country of America in the late 1890s, but it was the opposite. They had finally become the beautiful swan they were meant to be in a new land that promised them a new and better life. The monument reminds them every day that they are not the ugly duckling, they are just like their Danish national treasure who they memorialized in bronze, a swan who needed to break free and soar to reach the place where their inner beauty, imagination, and happiness can shine.

Keeley Shoudel, Loyola University Chicago

[1] Elizabeth Belloc. “Hans Christian Andersen.” Studies: An Irish Quarterly Review 41, no. 161 (1952): 55.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid., 56.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid., 57.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid., 58.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid., 60.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Larsen, Birgit F. “Hans Christian Andersen’s Statue In Lincoln Park, Chicago.” The Bridge 22, no. 2 (1998): 84.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid.

[29] Ibid., 85.

[20] Ibid.

[21] Ibid.

[22] Ibid., 86.

[23] “Hans Christian Andersen Monument.” Chicago Park District. Accessed November 15, 2020.

[24] Larsen, “Hans Christian Andersen’s Statue In Lincoln Park, Chicago,” 88.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid., 89.


Ceres & the Chicago Board of Trade: Women and Industry in 20th Century Chicago

Adding to the height of the 45-story Chicago Board of Trade Building on 141 West Jackson at LaSalle is a 30-foot statue of the Roman goddess of agriculture, Ceres. The Ceres statue stands holding a bundle of wheat in one hand, and a pouch of grain in the other [1]. She is made up of various aluminum geometric shapes, without any facial features, and her style resembles the building’s Art Deco architecture [2]. There are still some mysteries surrounding the statue that have not quite been put to rest, but one of great significance is: Why Ceres? Pursuing an answer to this question brings to light an understanding of Ceres’s narrative and the implications both past and present of a mythical female figure made to represent power and industry.

TonyTheTiger (own work) [CC BY-SA (

The statue was sculpted by John H. Storrs in 1930. The artist was born in Chicago and is considered one of the principal American artists to use European and cubist influences in his sculptures. He is sometimes referred to as the “sculptor of the machine age,” foregrounding geometric form and metalwork [3]. Storrs was commissioned to create a sculptural piece for the top of the new Board of Trade Building.

Storrs explained to the Chicago Tribune in 1930 that when he first received the commission, “I had two major points to consider. First, I wanted my work to be in architectural harmony with the building on which it was to stand. Second, I wanted it to be symbolical of the business of the organization the structure was to house.” [4] The modern style of the statue and the use of vertical lines mirrors the Art Deco style of the building. Using the image of Ceres, however, nods to the traditional grain industry. At the time of its construction, the Board of Trade Building was the tallest in Chicago, so Storrs made the choice to simply imply a female figure and included little detail, assuming it would not be viewed up close. The building as a whole is still highly regarded as a great example of Art Deco style and of Chicago architecture in general, and the faceless Ceres statue itself has become an iconic image for Chicagoans [5].

Chicago’s location at the base of the Great Lakes, in close proximity to fertile Midwestern farmlands, combined with the city’s rapid growth and development as a grain hub made it a logical place for a central marketplace: the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT). Founded by 82 Chicago merchants in 1848, the CBOT was first housed above a flour store on South Water Street. As the industry expanded over the next several decades and European buyers began to come to Chicago for grain rather than New York, the CBOT occupied various locations on or around South Water Street. Finally, in 1930, after suffering damage from the Great Fire in 1871 and other financial ups and downs, the CBOT settled at its current location at LaSalle and Jackson [6]. At the time, the 45-story structure commanded the Chicago skyline with the figure of Ceres towering above all.

Daniel Schwen (own work) [CC BY-SA (

Although Storrs and members of the CBOT may not have considered the tricky power dynamics at play when choosing Ceres as their mascot, this choice is significant to women’s labor history. Women in agriculture have been underrepresented in history and research; and in the case of US-based first-generation women farmers, the representation that does exist needs reevaluating. Today, women are uniquely positioned to create positive change through agriculture. This sentiment is mostly promoted internationally as programs focus on women in “‘developing countries’ who are responsible for 60 percent to 80 percent of food-crop production” [7]. While women in farming and other trades attempted to reclaim the standard narrative about their roles and usefulness in agriculture and trade, the dominant narrative of women as passive participants in agriculture won yet again when the CBOT chose Ceres to represent their industry.

From the National Archives, Identifier: 175539335. Creator: Department of Agriculture. Office of the Secretary. Office of Information. 1925-ca. 1981.

Stakeholders of the CBOT declared Ceres as the example and protector of their industry, prioritizing a mythology of womanhood instead of actual Chicago working women in their narrative. In the early nineteenth century, the geography of and trade around Chicago created an agriculture that was market- and production-oriented. Women were seen as “less scientific, less efficient and less well suited to modernity,” which marginalized their relevance in the contemporary agricultural system [8]. The emergence of social feminism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries empowered women to counteract this and similar narratives via labor movements. The Women’s Trade Union League of Chicago formed in 1904 to combat issues facing working-class women and address the significance women attached to traditional institutions. The relationship between women and institutions as these groups understood it served as the foundation for addressing the needs of working women in Chicago. The Chicago chapter of the WTUL continues to be involved in labor struggles. Today, it benefits from the city’s traditions of labor activism and cooperation among women across classes, both of which prove useful when working with male-dominated institutions such as the CBOT [9]. The narrative of women in trade is shifting, but the old narrative is still tied to Ceres, and she still stands tall at the top of the Board of Trade Building.

The goddess Ceres, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons.

Rural Midwestern women play a small role in farm labor but are idealized in their representation as nurturing and non-threatening. This image is quite appealing to conventional agricultural and industrial groups, not unlike those housed in the Board of Trade Building at the time of Ceres’s construction. Women, especially rural white women, are essentialized as “gentle, virtuous and closer-to-nature,” a notion that is not new or harmless [10]. The narrative around Ceres simplifies a key message for the CBOT, which is that the messiness and grit of agriculture can be boiled down to a faceless, larger than life, industrial mythical figure. This simplification is in some way representative of the industrialization of agriculture, which happened in the 1920s as larger farms utilizing machinery became the standard in farming. Also, Ceres’s placement above all the action seems poignant and slightly unsettling. She is isolated at the top of the former tallest building in Chicago, passively representing an industry whose power and narrative were both largely untouchable for women at the time of her construction and for many decades since.

Karis Blaker, Loyola University Chicago

[1] Bach, Ira J., Mary L. Gray, and Mary Alice. Molloy. A Guide to Chicago’s Public Sculpture. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983.

[2] Storrs, John Bradley. “Ceres.” The Art Institute of Chicago. Arts of the Americas, January 1, 1970.

[3] Bach, Ira J., Mary L. Gray, and Mary Alice. Molloy. A Guide to Chicago’s Public Sculpture. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983.

[4] Hampson, Philip. “Ancient Goddess in Modern Form to Command City.” The Chicago Tribune. May 4, 1930.

[5] “Ceres by John H. Storrs.” WTTW Chicago, April 17, 2018.

[6] Trade, Chicago Board of. “Our History.” CBOT – Our History, 2004.,3181,942,00.html.

[7] Larmer, Megan. “Cultivating the Edge: An Ethnography of First-Generation Women Farmers in the American Midwest.” Feminist review 114, no. 114 (January 1, 2016): 91–111.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Milkman, Ruth, ed. “Labor organizing and female institution-building: The Chicago Women’s Trade Union League, 1904-24.” Women, Work, and Protest: A Century of U. S. Women’s Labor History. London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2012. Accessed November 15, 2020. ProQuest Ebook Central.

[10] Larmer, “Cultivating the Edge.

Banking on Baseball: The Legend We Call Ernie Banks

Image of Ernie Banks published in Chicago Sun Times

What makes someone beloved? Is that even something we can answer? I found myself asking this question about shortstop and first baseman Ernie Banks. “Mr. Cub,” as he was dubbed by Chicago newspaper writer Jim Enright, became Banks’ go-to nickname during his time with the Chicago Cubs [1]. He played his entire nineteen-year career in the Major League with the Cubs and stayed with them as a coach and ambassador after he retired from playing in 1971. Ernie Banks is the one player who “thoroughly and completely identified with the Cubs…[and] represented the franchise with class and enthusiasm” [2]. Despite his career as a player having ended nearly 50 years ago, Chicagoans of all ages seem to know and love Ernie Banks for what he represents as a person and baseball player.

Ernie Banks Statue outside Wrigley Field, dedicated on March 31, 2008

Teammates and non-teammates alike do not hesitate to express their appreciation for Banks. For that reason, on March 31, 2008, opening day for the Chicago Cubs’ baseball season, a statue was unveiled right outside the Clark street entrance to Wrigley Field of Ernie Banks. At the unveiling of his statue, other famous and well-respected baseball players including Hank Aaron, Billy Williams, and Ron Santo spoke to highlight the spirit Ernie Banks embodied that made him the perfect ballplayer [3]. If you know Ernie Banks, you know his most-quoted phrase, “Let’s play two.” His love for the game and the Cubs, his incredible skill, and his positive energy are what drew people to him, even those who didn’t grow up watching him play. In an interview with the Chicago Tribune, Banks noted after being awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, “Barack Obama gave it to me; he’d never seen me play!” [4]. But having a statue outside Wrigley Field showing him waiting for a pitch and engraved with his nickname, favorite phrase, and career accomplishments is a way for his legacy to live on and communicate to passersby who he was, what he did, and what he means to so many people.

With all the love Banks receives from fans past and present, one would think he grew up living and breathing Chicago and baseball. However, he grew up in Dallas, Texas and played football and basketball for his high school teams and softball on the community team. It was on the community softball team where Banks was recognized for his potential to play baseball as a career. In 1948, Bill Blair noticed seventeen-year-old Banks and recruited him for the Negro Baseball League. Blair was a pitcher and outfielder in the Negro League in the late 1940s and at the time he saw Banks playing, he was scouting for new players in Amarillo, Texas.

The Negro Leagues was a product of the racial segregation that characterized America after the Civil War. According to Edward White, “[n]o stated policy or written rule existed that barred blacks from participating in Organized Baseball. It was nonetheless apparent that no blacks could participate” [5]. By 1903, segregated baseball leagues for whites and Blacks were firmly established. This did not change until 1947 when Jackie Robinson was signed to the Brooklyn Dodgers, making him the first person to break the color barrier. However, it took another twelve years for every team in the Major League to include Black players in their lineups, with the Boston Red Sox being the last team to sign a black player in 1959 [6].

Ernie Banks, who had played in the Negro League for the Kansas City Monarchs, broke the color barrier for the Chicago Cubs, as he was the first Black player they signed in 1953. He would go on to have an incredible career of hitting 512 home runs, hitting five grand slams in a single season (1955), setting a Major League record as a shortstop that same season by hitting forty-four homeruns in a season—then breaking his own record with forty-seven homeruns in 1958—and being the first National League player to be named MVP two years in a row (1958 and 1959) [7]. Banks accomplished all this without ever playing in a post-season game. Ernie’s nineteen years with the Cubs was during their 37-year losing streak that kept them from making it to the post-season. During Banks’ residency from 1953-1971, the Cubs hadn’t competed in the post-season since they lost to the Detroit Tigers in 1945 for the World Series, and it would still be another twelve years after Banks retired that the Cubs would make it to the League Championship Series, where they would lose to the San Diego Padres in 1984.

Perhaps that is what makes it even more remarkable that Ernie Banks is so beloved by Chicagoans despite their losing record throughout Banks’ career as a Chicago Cub. Being known and loved for his enthusiasm for a game and a team that could not seem to have a winning season for the entirety of his career is a remarkable quality and a testament to Banks’ character. Honoring Banks and his legacy with his statue outside the main entrance of the “friendly confines” of Wrigley Field is a show of respect and appreciation of his positive devotion to the Cubs franchise throughout his life [8].

The outpouring of love for Ernie online and in print is undeniable. YouTube clips about Ernie or interviews with him always come with comments from viewers describing a memory of watching Ernie play, an interaction they had with him, or what he meant to them and their family. In books and articles about him, the authors always share the impact Banks had on their lives. A couple who both love the Cubs and live in Lakeview, even decided to name their dog after Ernie Banks and devote an Instagram page to @Erniethe_doodle.

@erniethe_doodle visiting his namesake outside Wrigley Field and playing ball. Permission for using these images granted by his owners.

Statues are built for a reason. The person embodied in the statue made an impact in some way and is therefore thought to be deserving of such immortalization to remind current and future generations of their accomplishments and worthiness of being remembered. With all the controversy and politicization surrounding other statues and monuments to long dead influencers of history, it is hard to imagine Ernie Banks’ statue could ever follow in those footsteps. His goodness has been recognized for over sixty years now, and his statue will continue to remind Chicago baseball fans what it means to love the game.

Melissa Newman, Loyola University Chicago

[1] Freedman, Lew. Ernie Banks: the Life and Career of “Mr. Cub.” (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2019), 11.

[2] Freedman, 3.

[3] “Cubs Legend Banks Honored With Statue Outside Wrigley Field”. 2008. ESPN.Com.

[4] Chicago Tribune. “Mr. Cub.” 2014. YouTube video, 4:07. April 3, 2014.

[5] White, G. Edward. “The Negro Leagues” in Creating the National Pastime: Baseball Transforms Itself, 1903-1953. Pp.128. Princeton University Press,

[6] Rapoport, Ron. Let’s Play Two: the Legend of “Mr. Cub,” the Life of Ernie Banks. (New York: Hachette Books, 2019), 71.

[7] “Banks, Ernest (Ernie).” Oxford African American Studies Center. 1 Dec. 2006; Accessed 22 Nov. 2020.

[8] Banks coined the now famous title that refers to Wrigley Field as “the Friendly Confines” after the Cubs were on the road for a while: “He was noting how good it felt to be home again for the Cubs’ next games.” Freedman, 4.

List of Images (in order of appearance):

Greenberg, Steve. 2020. “Touch ’em all, Ernie Banks: It’s the 50-year anniversary of home run No. 500 for Mr. Cub.” Chicago Sun-Times.

“Ernie Banks Statue.” Photographs taken by Erik Newman, November 14, 2020.

Davie, Ryan and Sarah (@erniethe_doodle). “Just chilling with my namesake, Ernie Banks. I wonder if one day they will put a statue of me next to his…” Instagram. April 25, 2017.

Davie, Ryan and Sarah (@erniethe_doodle). “Smile! It’s Friday! #itsthefreakinweekend” Instagram. November 2, 2018.

Davie, Ryan and Sarah (@erniethe_doodle). “Happy Opening Day!!! So excited for baseball to be back in Wrigley Field! Let’s go Cubbies!!” Instagram. April 9, 2018.

Helping Hands: A Memorial to Jane Addams

The “Helping Hands” memorial to Jane Addams is situated within the Chicago Women’s Park & Gardens near the Prairie Historic District. Louise Bourgeois created the sculpture in 1993 to commemorate the life and works of Jane Addams, founder of Hull House and renowned advocate for women’s rights.[1] It is one of the first monuments in Chicago to memorialize a woman.

“Helping Hands,” by Louise Bergeron.[2]

“Helping Hands” is a series of sculptures made from black granite. Each one of the six is in the shape of a hand or hands and rests on a stone pedestal. The monument was originally situated in the Addams (Jane) Memorial Park near Navy Pier, but after being vandalized several times, it was taken down in 2006. After Bourgeois resculpted parts that had been damaged, the sculpture was moved to its present location in 2011, at the behest of the Art Institute and the Chicago Park District.[3]

Chicago was well overdue for a monument memorializing a woman’s contributions by the time “Helping Hands” came to fruition. It makes sense, too, for the subject to be Jane Addams, whose work with the Hull House advocating for women, laborers, and so many others, places her at the center of Chicago’s rich history of advocacy. Indeed, the six carved hands on their pedestals represent the many people Addams helped throughout her life, without thought to race, gender, or occupation, recalling what Addams herself said in her autobiographical notes: “Perhaps nothing is so fraught with significance as the human hand.”[4]

Part of “Helping Hands,” two sets of hands intertwined.[5]

While perhaps not as common as memorializing generals or statesmen, memorializing advocates who cared for and made the world a better place is worthwhile. The symbolism of “Helping Hands” is lovely and evocative, and sitting in the Chicago Women’s Park & Gardens is a suitable context (though the Hull House Museum, located a short distance away, also seems

like it would have been a good choice), even if it was not the originally intended location. It is interesting to note that one of the few monuments to a woman in the city of Chicago is symbolic in its form rather than literal; with so few memorials to women and their work, perhaps “Helping Hands” should be more literal and straightforward. Disassociating Addam’s work from a corporeal form might serve to place the focus on her acts, but when women have so few monuments to them for their actions, it is somewhat unsatisfying. Given her own words, though, Addams probably would have liked “Helping Hands.”

Hands coming together. [6]

Following the removal of “Helping Hands” from its original location at Addams Memorial Park, the Art Institute and the Chicago Park District worked together to find a new location to place the sculpture. The Art Institute commissioned the piece in the first place (and still retains the maquettes for “Helping Hands” in its collection), so the Institute clearly retained the role of a stakeholder.[7] The Chicago Park District is another clear stakeholder, wishing to both beautify the parks it oversees and have monuments that will please visitors to the parks and not cause too much controversy.[8] Given the events of the last couple of years, with monuments coming down due to public outcry, the public itself is a stakeholder in “Helping Hands.”

Remembering the legacies of Jane Addams and Louis Bourgeois. [9]

“Helping Hands” does not court controversy. There is no evidence that the vandalism it experienced while at the Addams Memorial Park was due to objection to its form or what it stood for, but rather that the vandalism occurred because the monument was low-lying in a place that saw a lot of traffic.[10] While the symbolic nature of the memorial may give pause to those concerned about how few monuments there are to women within Chicago, the sculpture itself is not particularly controversial. With all its pieces carved out of black granite, it is difficult to differentiate the differences between the hands, placing the focus solely on the idea of reaching out to help others. While that focus may problematize the “Helping Hands” for a select few, the monument is unlikely to rouse ire the same way a more contested monument would.

The sculptor, Louise Bourgeois, is well-known for making symbolic pieces that depict abstract ideas. Her input about what “Helping Hands” meant to her—Addam’s compassion and willingness to reach out to those who needed help—probably was mostly responsible for driving the narrative surrounding the monument for quite some time.[11] Following her death, it is harder to say who controls the narrative about “Helping Hands.” As the Art Institute commissioned the piece, they undoubtedly do now and did even when Bourgeois was creating the sculpture. The Chicago Park District, too, has a voice in contextualizing the piece, having played a central role in relocating “Helping Hands.” The two institutions that provide commentary, both in the form of a plaque describing the memorial and a digital resource (originally designed to be scanned at the monument, but also available for the general public on Statue Stories Chicago), continue to drive the narrative about this memorial to Jane Addams, and perhaps thus some of the narrative surrounding Jane Addams, too.[12]

Describing and memorializing Jane Addams. [13]

Despite the way institutions have driven the narrative surrounding the sculpture, there is a power to the monument. Not only is it to be hoped that “Helping Hands,” still too new to have made a lasting mark on the city, will do so over the coming years, but that the memorial will spark more memorials to worthwhile citizens of Chicago who are not white or male. Indeed, perhaps the monument, with its decontextualized hands and emphasis on collaboration and reaching out to help one’s community, will inspire more collaboration and more unity. Perhaps it might even provoke questions about who “Helping Hands” truly memorializes and who deserves to be memorialized.

Amber Mear, Loyola University Chicago

[1] Chicago Park District. “Helping Hands.” Last modified July 21, 2015.

[2] “Helping Hands.”

[3] Glessner House Museum. “Helping Hands…That Talk!” Last modified August 10, 2015.

[4] Addams, Jane. Twenty Years at Hull House. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1912.

[5]Statue Stories Chicago. “Helping Hands Jane Addams Memorial.” Accessed November 20, 2020.

[6] “Helping Hands…That Talk!”

[7] Ibid.

[8] Chicago Park District. “Chicago Women’s Park & Gardens.” Accessed November 20, 2020.

[9] “Helping Hands…That Talk!”

[10] Ibid.

[11] Waller, Mary. “Jane Addams’ “Helping Hands.”” Last modified February 17, 2019.

[12] “Helping Hands Jane Addams Memorial.”

[13] “Helping Hands…That Talk!”

117 Years of Change and the Right to Protest

The Haymarket Square Incident occurred on May 4, 1886 when a bomb was thrown from a crowd of unionized laborers into a line of policemen. Eight men, now pardoned, were tried and convicted for the attack without tangible evidence against them. Four of these men were sentenced to death by hanging [1]. The event is shrouded in mystery, but the monuments erected clearly capture changing sentiments in police brutality and historical documentation. Erected in 1889, and officially removed from the public in 1970, the first monument depicts a policeman with his hand raised, dynamically capturing poise and valor. The second monument, dedicated in 2004, represents the laborers. Sculptor Mary Brogger utilized the speaker’s wagon as a tool on which faceless laborers stand to demand their rights. The 117-year gap between the two monuments, as well as the drastic subject change, signal a deep shift in conceptions about power, worker rights, and humanitarianism.

The original Haymarket Incident monument dedicated to a fallen policeman at its first location in Haymarket Square, 1889.

We mean to make things over;

we’re tired of toil for naught

But our wages are bare enough to live on; never an hour for thought.

We want to feel the sunshine;

we want to smell the flowers;

We’re sure that God has willed it, and we mean to have eight hours.

We’re summoning our forces from shipyard, shop, and mill:

Eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, and eight hours

For what we will [2].

An interpretation of the Haymarket Incident at the moment the bomb was thrown into a line of policemen, May 4, 1886.

The demand for an 8-hour work day in Chicago began in 1864, when Civil War sentiments encouraged the oppressed to fight for their rights. In 1867, a law was put in place to satisfy demands, but contained a loophole that negated any efforts to sustain the 8-hour work day for laborers. Later that year in 1867, a citywide strike shut down Chicago’s economy for a week and with it took down the ineffective law. The demands died down, and over the course of the next fifteen years, exhausted laborers gathered again to demand less work and more leisure time [3].

Chicago laborers breaking for a few golden minutes during a long work day in the Gilded Age, 1880-1900.

Then, in May 1886, the movement united laborers and skilled workers from all backgrounds and mobilized during the three days preceding the Haymarket Square Incident on May 4. The influence of anarchist publications played an important role in labor strikes, and fueled officials fears of radical education. While mass production was good for sales and revenue, it was assumed that spare time encouraged men to educate and arm themselves with socialist propaganda that reviled capitalist institutions [4].

Newspapers such as the German language anarchist publication Arbeiter Zeitung, as well as the English language publication The Alarm advocated for workers to demand their rights at all costs, even taking up arms against their oppressors. Key writers for these papers, August Spies and Albert Parsons respectively, gave speeches on May 4, 1886. Their speeches, as well as their call to arms and inflammatory language in their writing ultimately sentenced them to the gallows [5].

The four men sentenced to hang, among them August Spies and Albert Parsons, represented the mass of workers and laborers who demanded change within the city. Their final remarks remain true to their anti-capitalist, anarchist sentiments. George Engel, another set to hang on November 11, 1886, harkened the influence of leaders in anti-slavery groups, who, like Engel himself, were sentenced to die for their cause. Engel, on October 8, 1886, noted “I found long ago, that the workingman had no more rights here than anywhere else in the world… and just as the man who agitated against slavery in this country had to ascend the gallows, so must we. He who speaks for the workingman today must hang.” [6]

The monument erected in 1889 after the hanging heralded a different side of the story. Officials and local papers pushed back against these men, their demands, and their assumed violent actions towards policemen [7]. While there was no evidence to convict these men of throwing the bomb, the hanging acted as a demonstration of power, a warning to those who desired to fight for their right to equal work and leisure time. The monument, placed in Haymarket Square, reminded passerby that the state was in control of laborers’ live, and would use force to ensure that the industrial economy within Chicago was maintained, even at the cost of laborer’s lives. Though there was shifts in labor laws, and many factories and work places began to roll back hours imposed on their workers, the people were continually reminded of their place within the power hierarchyas they had no choice but to participate in the system built against them. 

A busy Haymarket Square after the installation of the first monument, a reminder of laborers’ struggle for their rights, 1889.

The first Haymarket monument was a consistent object of vandalism.  It was moved to Randolph Street and Ogden Avenue in 1900. For 27 years the statue remained untouched, a grim reminder of what happened on May 4, 1886. In 1927, however, a streetcar purposefully crashed into the monument, knocking it over. The driver noted he was “sick of seeing that policeman with his arm raised” [9]. The monument became a symbol of police and citizen unrest. Each time there was a conflict between police and citizens, the monument suffered.

In 1969, civilians, reenacting the original event, placed a bomb between the statues legs and destroyed it a second time. The monument was quickly rebuilt to reinforce the sentiment of control and anti-anarchy it symbolized, but was bombed a second time in 1970 [10]. After the second bombing, it was clear that officials had completely lost the respect of the people concerning this incident, and that a social shift had taken place concerning the interaction of civilians and law officials. Increased police brutality and subsequent protest indicated that the monument must be removed from the public, and that it no longer held the same power over the people as it once had. The monument now is in the Chicago Police Training Academy [11].

Mary Brogger’s 2004 monument replacing the original Haymarket statue. This monument pays respects to the laborers fighting for a fair working day.

Taking its place is Mary Brogger’s monument to the anarchists and martyrs of the Haymarket incident [12]. Faceless and nameless in life, they are memorialized by abstract figures that represent their social position during the time of these strikes.

The first monument incited a sense of fear within passerby and anarchist alike. Brogger’s monument, however, is a symbol of persistence among people fighting for their rights. Between the dedication of the first monument in 1889 and the second in 2004 is 117 years in which Americans have fought for myriad rights and were met with the same backlash as the laborers at Haymarket Square. After over a century of police brutality and maintenance of a state-dominated status-quo, it is clear that the will of the people prevails in one way or another. Broggerr’s monument represents perseverance, and reminds Chicago of how far the country has come in terms of labor rights, and what is possible when citizens push back for their rights.

Katy Rose, Loyola University Chicago

[1] De Grazia, “The Haymarkey Bomb,” 310.

[2] De Grazia, “The Haymarkey Bomb,” 286-7.

[3] Jentz, “Eight Hour Movement.”

[4] De Grazia, “The Haymarkey Bomb,” 285.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Lembcke and Howe, “Chicago Haymarket Centennial,” 96.

[7] De Grazia, “The Haymarkey Bomb,” 285.

[8], “Haymarket Memorial Statue.”

[9], “Haymarket Memorial Statue.”

[10], “Haymarket Memorial Statue.”

[11] City of Chicago, “The Haymarket Memorial,”


De Grazia, Edward. “The Haymarket Bomb.” Law and Literature 18, no. 3 (2006): 283-322.

“Haymarket Memorial Statue.” Accessed November 18, 2020.

Jentz, John B. “Eight Hour Movement .” Eight-Hour Movement, 2005.

Lembcke, Jerry, and Carolyn Howe. “Chicago Haymarket Centennial.” International Labor and Working-Class History, no. 31 (1987): 96-98.

Roediger, David R., and Philip S. Foner. Our Own Time: A History of American Labor and the Working Day. 1989.

“The Haymarket Memorial.” City of Chicago :: The Haymarket Memorial. Accessed November 19, 2020.

Image sources (in order):

“Haymarket Memorial Statue.” Accessed November 18, 2020.

“Labor Quote of the Day: August Spies.” Metro Washington Council AFL-CIO. Accessed November 20, 2020.

Notable Labor Strikes of the Gilded Age. Accessed November 17, 2020.

“Haymarket Memorial Statue.” Accessed November 18, 2020.

Ugc. “Haymarket Square.” Atlas Obscura. Atlas Obscura, October 22, 2009.

Tolerance and Patriotic Unity: Chicago’s Heald Square Monument

 With the impending peril of World War II, Chicago searched for American patriots who represented them and could serve as the city’s democratic role models. They discovered the heroes they were looking for in Robert Morris, Haym Salomon, and George Washington. Barnet Hodes and the Patriotic Foundation of Chicago designed the Heald Square Monument to symbolize patriotic unity and tolerance during a global conflict. Today, however, this message is muddled due to its three patriots’ complicated legacies.

Heald Square Monument located on Chicago’s Riverwalk on Wacker Drive.
Photo taken by Jennifer Barry on November 9, 2020.

In the 1930s, well-connected Chicagoan lawyer Barnet Hodes led the efforts of the city’s elites to construct the Heald Square Monument. In July 1936, Hodes gathered Chicago’s political and financial leaders to form the Patriotic Foundation of Chicago, a non-profit dedicated to promoting democratic values [1]. Chicago’s leaders rallied behind Hodes and his monument to the American Revolution to demonstrate how Americans came together to serve their country in times of crisis [2]. Rather than rely on philanthropic support with the Foundation, Hodes hoped that Chicago’s citizens would be inspired by the monument’s patriotic message, and he successfully appealed for their financial support [3]. Next, Hodes and the Foundation sought American Revolutionary heroes who represented their patriotic beliefs.

The patriots of the Heald Square Monument. From left to right: Robert Morris, George Washington, and Haym Salomon.
Photo taken by Jennifer Barry on November 9, 2020.

The Patriotic Foundation of Chicago selected civilian financiers Robert Morris and Haym Salomon for their monument, with revolutionary war hero George Washington as the focal point. As a Polish Jewish immigrant, Hodes was deeply inspired by Haym Salomon [4].  Salomon was a Polish Jewish immigrant who served as a spy, arranged the escape of American prisoners of war, and secured funding for the revolutionary American government. As a leading figure in the Continental Congress, English immigrant Robert Morris, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, was appointed superintendent of finance in 1781. Morris and Salomon, both resourceful businessmen, worked together to provide critically needed money and supplies for Washington and the Continental Army [5]. With the aid given by Morris and Salomon, Washington prolonged the war until Great Britain could no longer afford to continue to fight and was forced to grant American independence. The Patriotic Foundation of Chicago envisioned that Chicagoans would be inspired by the three patriots’ abundant generosity so that their country could endure.

Quote engraved on the front of the base of the Heald Square Monument:

“the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.”

President George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation in Newport, Rhode Island, August 18, 1790. Full letter found on Founders Online, National Archives,

Hodes and the Patriotic Foundation of Chicago commissioned renowned sculptor Lorado Taft to design the monument. With celebrated sculptures across Illinois, including Chicago’s Fountain of Time, Taft was passionate about the project because of his American Revolutionary ancestors [6]. Fearing possible anti-Semitic attacks, Hodes strongly urged Taft to craft the statues in a way that protected Salomon [7]. Taft gave the monument a profound but straightforward design: the three bronze patriots holding hands in patriotic unity atop a large rectangular stone base. Engraved on the base’s front are the patriots’ names and a powerful quote from Washington condemning bigotry and offering protection to all citizens who stand by the American government [8]. The base’s back has a bronze plaque with an image celebrating America’s tolerance of ethnic diversity. The plaque depicted an enthroned Lady Liberty, reminiscent of New York City’s Statue of Liberty, extending her welcoming arms and torch over the masses seeking America’s shores. While Taft died before its completion, he crafted a monument that unequivocally displayed Chicago’s values of patriotism, unity, and tolerance of all peoples.

The seated Lady Liberty plaque on back of the Heald Square Monument.
Rossfishman123, Bronze plaque showing Lorado Taft’s seated Statue of Liberty, Atlas Obscura,

After five years of fundraising and sculpting, Chicago’s citizens dedicated its Morris-Washington-Salomon monument on December 15, 1941, the 150th anniversary of the Bill of Rights. Adding significance to the day was Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor the week before. Chicago and the rest of the nation would be entering another world war. The monument was placed in Heald Square, named after Nathan Heald, a heroic American officer during the War of 1812 who commanded Fort Dearborn, formerly found in the area [9]. While the fort is gone, Chicago’s financial district has since taken over, and the Heald Square Monument was given a prominent location on Wacker Drive on the Chicago River’s south side. The “great triumvirate of patriots,” as President Franklin Roosevelt called the monument [10], were calling Chicago’s citizens to join in the upcoming fight against fascism and graciously receive people of diverse identities seeking American freedoms.

While Hodes and the Patriotic Foundation of Chicago designed the Heald Square Monument to convey patriotic unity and tolerance, it also imparts a subtle exclusionary message. In their selection of Morris, Washington, and Salomon, they made clear that the ideal American patriots are privileged white men in positions of wealth and power. Both Morris and Washington owned slaves who were forced to work on their plantations for their economic benefit [11]. They expected Salomon, the lone non-Christian, to bear the full weight of showing American tolerance for immigrants. They chose to commemorate American tolerance as the American government detained Japanese American citizens on baseless racial fears in detention camps. The Heald Square Monument’s provoking expression of patriotic unity and tolerance is confounded due to its commemoration of three privileged white men and its ignorance of the United States’ long history of racial intolerance.

The Heald Square Monument and its inspiring yet questionable message has been caught up in the recent highly politized atmosphere. Given its historical importance, the City of Chicago has owned Heald Square since 1959, including its monument, which the Chicago City Council selected as a Chicago Landmark in 1971 [12]. During the nationwide police brutality protests in May 2020, the Heald Square Monument was graffitied with offensive racial slurs that attacked the statues and their tolerant message. [13]. When the monument’s damage was discovered, some Chicagoans, out of respect for the three revolutionary patriots, quickly washed away the hateful slogans [14]. While Hodes was concerned about possible anti-Semitic attacks on Salomon’s statue, he never feared for Morris and Washington’s statues. The Heald Square Monument, with its optimistic portrayal of patriotic unity and tolerance, resonates today while raising doubt if the United States has acted on those principles. 

Hodes and the Patriotic Foundation of Chicago believed that the noble patriots of the Heald Square Monument would encourage the people of Chicago to follow their example of patriotic unity and tolerance. These noble patriots have become problematic given their status as privileged white men. The Heald Square Monument reflected Chicago’s political and business leaders and the white middle class who funded it. By honoring Morris, Washington, and Salomon, they disregarded how bigotry and prejudice have been sanctioned throughout American history and snubbed people of color and women’s contributions to the country. Patriotic unity and tolerance are admirable ideals that Americans should strive to live by as they grapple with their heroes’ complex reputations.

The 11-foot-tall statues of Robert Morris, George Washington, and Haym Salomon in a pose of patriotic unity and tolerance.

Photo taken by Jennifer Barry on November 9, 2020.

Meghan Flannery, Loyola University Chicago

[1] Harry Barnard, “This Great Triumvirate of Patriots”: The Inspiring Story Behind Lorado Taft’s Chicago Monument to George Washington, Robert Morris, and Haym Salomon (Chicago: Follett Publishing Company, 1971), 17.

[2] Christopher J. Young, “Barnet Hodes’s Quest to Remember Haym Salomon, the Almost-Forgotten Jewish Patriot of the American Revolution,” The American Jewish Archives Journal 63, no. 2 (2011): 44,

[3] Young, “Barnet Hodes’s Quest,” 54.

[4] Young, “Barnet Hodes’s Quest,” 48.

[5] Barnard, “This Great Triumvirate of Patriots, 50.  

[6] Barnard, “This Great Triumvirate of Patriots,81.

[7] Young, “Barnet Hodes’s Quest,” 51.

[8] George Washington, “From George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation in Newport, Rhode Island, 18 August 1790,” Founders Online, National Archives, accessed November 1, 2020,

[9] Neil Gale, “The History of the Heald Square Monument at Wacker Drive and Wabash Avenue in Chicago, Illinois,” Digital Research Library of Illinois History Journal, The Living History of Illinois and Chicago Community, last modified January 7, 2018,

[10] Barnard, “This Great Triumvirate of Patriots,95.

[11] “Updated Robert Morris,” The Founders & Slavery: Contradictions of Liberty: Created by Students from Marywood University’s HIST 399: Slavery and Abolition in the Atlantic World, last modified April 19, 2015,,who%20worked%20as%20household%20servants.

[12] Gale, “The History of the Heald Square Monument.”

[13] CWBChicago (@CWBChicago), “The Heald Square Monument—George Washington and the two principal financiers of the American Revolution,” Twitter photo, May 31, 2020,

[14] G Picks (@picks996), “There was some good people cleaning this off yesterday, here is a picture,” Twitter photo, June 1, 2020,


Barnard, Harry. “This Great Triumvirate of Patriots”: The Inspiring Story Behind Lorado Taft’s Chicago Monument to George Washington, Robert Morris, and Haym Salomon. Chicago: Follett Publishing Company, 1971.

Gale, Neil.“The History of the Heald Square Monument at Wacker Drive and Wabash Avenue in Chicago, Illinois.” Digital Research Library of Illinois History Journal. The Living History of Illinois and Chicago Community. Last modified January 7, 2018.

Rossfishman123. Bronze plaque showing Lorado Taft’s seated Statue of Liberty. Atlas Obscura. Accessed November 1, 2020.

“Updated Robert Morris.” The Founders & Slavery: Contradictions of Liberty: Created by Students from Marywood University’s HIST 399: Slavery and Abolition in the Atlantic World. Last modified April 19, 2015.,who%20worked%20as%20household%20servants.

Washington, George. “From George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation in Newport, Rhode Island, 18 August 1790.” Founders Online, National Archives. Accessed November 1, 2020.

Young, Christopher J. “Barnet Hodes’s Quest to Remember Haym Salomon, the Almost-Forgotten Jewish Patriot of the American Revolution.” The American Jewish Archives Journal 63, no. 2 (2011): 43-62.

Daphne Garden: Confined into a Spirit Tree

Monuments are a showcase to commemorate anyone who has had a direct impact on history. They allow us to continue to remember what they have achieved or what they want us to learn and imbibe in our life. Moreover, monuments can teach us lessons of history’s past and apply in the present and future. Thus, monuments continue to hold significance. As observers, monuments allow us to become more aware of the progress communities have made towards changing their views. Monuments also enable observers to do some introspection of their lives and realize what things hold more importance in our life.

The monument of Daphne Garden is currently in Chicago, Illinois. This monument was part of the Art in the Gardens temporary exhibit in 2004, as seen in Figure 1. At first, the monument’s location was at East Roosevelt Road and South Michigan Avenue. Many visitors and native Chicagoans loved the monument, so the Chicago Park District decided to permanently install it at the Northerly Island Visitor’s Center in 2006. [1]

Figure 1. Photograph of Daphne’s monument on Northerly Island in Chicago, Illinois.

Dessa Kirk created Daphne’s monument. Initially, she hails from Alaska but came to Chicago to attend the School of Art Institute. [2] Kirk aimed to show how Daphne’s myths explored the theme of exploitation among women and discuss different themes and emotions after learning the various myths about Daphne’s story. Kirk had been given the opportunity to create an artwork for The Union League Club of Chicago. In the past Kirk had created similar artwork related to female figures such as Magdalene in Grant Park. [3]

Anyone who has an interest in ancient Greece can associate Daphne as a part of Greek mythology. She was worshipped by many in ancient Greece during 1600 B.C.E. There are several different versions of Daphne’s myth. The Thessalian myth claims Daphne to be a Greek dryad or a tree sprite. She is the daughter of Penus, the river god. Her mother’s name is unknown. One day Apollo, the God of hunting, mocked Eros the God of Love for his lack of archery skills. Eros, enraged with anger, shot an arrow at Apollo, who became filled with an uncontrolled amount of lust for Daphne. Eros also shot an arrow at Daphne, which made her reject all romantic gestures. Daphne continued to run away from Apollo, as seen in Figure 2. She came to see her father, who helped her escape from Apollo. Daphne right there had escaped by turning into a laurel tree. [4]

The second version of Daphne’s myth is that she is the daughter of Ladon by Earth. As stated in the first version similarly, Apollo continued to make advances towards Daphne. However, she continued to resist his advances. Daphne came to her mother, Ge, who then turned her into a bay tree. Both myths agree that Apollo kept the tree close to him. [5]

Figure 2. Apollo chasing after Daphne.

The third version of Daphne’s myth is similar to the previous myths. In this version, Leucippus, the son of Oenomaüs, is the King of Pisa. He was in love with Daphne and took the disguise of a maiden to stay close with her. Both would go hunting together. Apollo, overcome with jealousy, had Leucippus killed by nymphs. To escape from Apollo, her father transformed Daphne into a laurel tree, as seen in Figure 3. Even though having several different versions of Daphne’s myth, all agree that Daphne had turned into a tree. [6]

Figure 3. Apollo and Daphne right before she transforms into a laurel tree.

Daphne’s monument represents many emotions that can easily be applied today with women being exploited, especially with the MeToo Movement. Looking closely at Apollo, one can describe him as Daphne’s stalker and unable to stop his sexual desires for Daphne. However, Daphne does not want to give in to his desires and wants to hold onto her virginity and retain her chastity like many women in today’s’ culture. Another emotion that can be showcased is the feeling of being protected by our parents. Daphne’s father helped her transform into a laurel tree; thus, Daphne could remain chaste and escape Apollo. Being chaste is another theme that observers can look at in her story—Apollo’s lust for Daphne versus her desire to remain chaste. Women from different cultures hold this notion of being chaste very close to them, thus believing to be pure.

Through Daphne’s monuments and stories, many can relate to today in how everyday women continue to face exploitation, whether in their personal or professional lives. Daphne’s story is here to remind women that they are not alone in their difficult challenges. Just as Daphne went to her parents for help, women have a support system around them to help in any situation. It also reminds women that they are not alone, and they can overcome any obstacle in their way. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that many women do not feel protective in their personal and professional life. That is a notion that has to be changed.

Daphne’s monument hopes and continues to inspire societies to change their notions about women. Communities should not look at women like objects and prizes. Many communities should give women respect for their ability to handle any situation at any given time. Daphne’s monument hopes to empower women and let them take control of their lives and should not have to change their lives according to others.

Even though Daphne’s’ monument has no relation to Chicago, it can showcase how this monument can allow women to be more open and control what goes on in their lives. While there are different versions of Daphne’s myths in three different ways, all can agree she ultimately transformed into a tree and became a part of nature to get away from Apollo. Daphne’s monument represents how women can take control of their life in today’s time and should not have to feel alone. Another way Daphne’s monuments empower women is through challenging traditional notions of women. Just as Daphne went to her mother for help, women can always go to their mother.

Janki Patel, Loyola University Chicago


[1] Chicago Park District. “Daphne Garden.” Chicago Park District. Accessed November 12, 2020.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] “Daphne.” Brooklyn Museum: Daphne. Accessed November 12, 2020.

[5] Martin, H. M. “The Apollo and Daphne Myth as Treated by Lope De Vega and

Calderon.” Hispanic Review 1, no. 2 (1933): 149-60. Accessed November 13, 2020.

[6] Martin, The Apollo, 157.

Citation of photographs in order:

“Apollo and Daphne: City of Fremont Official Website.” Accessed November 17, 2020.

“Apollo Chasing Daphne Who Throws Her Arms up, in the Background at Right Shows the

Moment She Turns in a Laurel, from The Story of Apollo and Daphne.”

Accessed November 17, 2020.

Chicago Park District. “Daphne Garden.” Chicago Park District. Accessed November 12, 2020.

Tentative Schedule for Conference 2021!

Responding to Crisis tentative schedule
Note: All times are in Central Standard Time (Chicago, IL).

February 20th, 2021

February 21st, 2021

Opening Ceremonies: 9 AM – 9:30 AM

Session One: 9:30 – 11 AM

Tales from the Windy City: A Panel on Chicago History


Activism and Identity: Pushing Against Racial Inequality in America

Digital Humanities Discussion: 11:15 AM – 12 PM

Lunch 12 – 1 PM

Public History Roundtable: 1 PM – 2:15 PM

Career Diversity Panel: 2:30PM – 4 PM

End of Day Remarks: 4 PM – 4:30 PM

Opening Ceremonies 9 AM – 9:30 AM

Session Two: 9:30 AM – 11 AM

Social Crises and Shifting Religious Geographies


Redifining Identity in Times of Crisis: Gender and Sexuality History

HGSA Presidential Address: 11:15 AM – 12 PM

Keynote Address: 12 PM – 12:45 PM

Lunch: 12:45 PM – 1:45 PM

Career Diversity Panel: 2 PM – 3:30 PM

Session Three: 3:45 – 5PM

Evolving Methodology: The Role of Public History Today


A Global Stalemate: A Panel on Cold War History

Closing Ceremonies: 5:15 PM – 5:30 PM