“The Colored Soldiers”—The Poem You Never Knew Existed

I’m a poetry guy. When I expect to have some free time, I tend to carry a small book of poems somewhere on my person. I also have eclectic tastes, so the subject and the substance of my little pocket anthologies changes. This summer, while at home from Gettysburg National Military Park, I pulled a book off the shelf—War Poems, from the Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets series. I found plenty of what you might expect to find in such a book—Lord Tennyson, Wilfred Owen, Randall Jarrell. The subjects were classic—the “wild charge” of the Light Brigade, the “froth-corrupted lungs” of gassed men on the Western Front, the callous “hose” that washes out the wet scraps of the tragic turret gunner. Most of the poems I had already read before, so I was doubly surprised to find—in an anthology of war poems spread across the full breadth of both the Western and Eastern traditions of war verse—Paul Laurence Dunbar’s “The Colored Soldiers,” published posthumously in 1913 [excerpt]

The Disquieted Heart and the Lighted Path: LeVar Burton’s Dedication Day Speech

This Saturday past brought with it an electric sort of chill, the kind fueled by a driving breeze that lifts your jacket, steals past your socks and up your legs, worms its way through gaps in scarves and gloves, and leaves you feeling naked and afraid and alive in ways that no one else can see. The kind of wind that whisks away complicity and surety, leaving you with nothing but a burning compulsion to do something that will reignite your humanity, your belief in goodness, your claim to a kind life. For those who attended, the Dedication Day ceremony in the National Cemetery trembled with the same terrible power. This year, there was something dreadfully eerie about coming together to honor men slain in the struggle to prove that a nation “conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal” could endure terrible division and betrayal between its countrymen. The speechmaking, no matter its tenor, could not escape the gravity of the question on everyone’s mind: what does the future hold for America, and how can we make sure it won’t undo the already unfinished work for which our forefathers died? [excerpt

Dain LaRoche Assistant Professor, Department of Kinesiology CHHS travels to Brazil

Professor LaRoche traveled to Brazil in January 2012 for research on neuromuscular performance and mobility in older adults at the Universidade Estadual Paulista – Rio Claro

Striking the Balance: Bringing Peace to the Battlefield of Preservation

Most Gettysburg residents took note this past winter when the Appalachian Brewing Company’s branch restaurant near the Lutheran Seminary closed. The Civil War Trust bought the land for its historical value; the structure and an adjacent hotel surround the Mary Thompson House, General Lee’s Headquarters during the battle. From the moment of purchase, the plan had been to demolish the buildings, sow grass, and transfer the four-acre lot to the National Park Service as a prized addition to the park. Most onlookers probably think that the tale is told as soon as the land is bought, cleared, and promised to the park. However, that thinking only pans out in a vacuum. In reality, the results of this purchase—as with any large purchase of land in a community—cannot be foreseen. Too many different actors are involved in and affected by something as simple as the demolition of a couple of businesses and the placing of a conservation easement on a property. And for those who stand to be affected by this purchase, controversy is pervasive and understandable [excerpt]

Initial neuromuscular performance in older women influences response to explosive resistance training

The purpose of the study was to identify both demographic and neuromuscular traits that characterize successful or unsuccessful adaptation to resistance training in older women. Twelve, older women underwent electrically evoked muscle twitches for the knee extensors; and performed maximal, voluntary, isometric knee extensions, followed by eight weeks of resistance training. Prior to training nonresponders had 67% higher twitch peak torque than responders (0.29 ± 0.05 vs. 0.18 ± 0.06 Nm·kg−1 respectively), 64% higher twitch rate of torque development (RTD) (3.96 ± 0.47 vs. 2.42 ± 0.62 Nm·s−1·kg−1), 51% higher voluntary peak torque (1.86 ± 0.40 vs. 1.23 ± 0.33 Nm·kg−1), 101% greater RTD (9.43 ± 1.52 vs. 4.70 ± 2.40 Nm·s−1·kg−1), 86% greater impulse (0.13 ± 0.01 vs. 0.07 ± 0.03 Nm·s·kg−1) and 27% faster motor time (80 ± 13 vs. 109 ± 34 ms), (all P \u3c 0.05). Following training, responders showed an 11% increase in twitch peak torque over baseline (0.18 ± 0.06 to 0.20 ± 0.05 Nm·kg−1), 15% increase in voluntary peak torque (1.23 ± 0.33 to 1.41 ± 0.36 Nm·kg−1), 47% increase in RTD (4.70 ± 2.40 to 6.93 ± 2.02 Nm·s−1·kg−1), 43% increase in impulse (0.07 ± 0.03 to 0.10 ± 0.04 Nm·s·kg−1), and 26% increase in rate of EMG rise (886 ± 214 to 1116 ± 102 % pEMG·s−1) (all P \u3c 0.05). Initially higher muscle mass and contractility, coupled with greater neural drive, likely explains why older women with good muscle performance seem to have a lower capacity for improvement than women with low initial levels of performance

Dusting Off the Old Heroes of the Republic: The Newest Civil Rights Movement in Washington, D.C.

When I decided to attend the Women’s March on Washington this past January, I tried desperately to keep the Civil War out of my mind. I didn’t want to court disaster. Whatever their politics, anyone who knows anything about the Civil War can hear the familiar wails of a nation groaning under the weight of paralyzing political factionalism, deep sectional divides, and a potential constitutional crisis—in the works long before the Drumpf presidency—surrounding the proper limit and application of executive power in our democracy, amongst other threats. But I just couldn’t allow myself to envision the worst. It made me physically sick to have to wonder, honestly, whether my home was on the verge of throwing away the sacrifices of millions of selfless patriots over the years simply because we could no longer see our neighbors, our family members, as human. Because we had so lost faith in the “unfinished work” that we would surrender liberty for safety, virtue for ambition, and love for power. That we would think ourselves so vulnerable, so small, that we would betray our friends and forsake the world. That we would stop being leaders because the job was no longer easy

Some Small Tribute: How Modern Americans Find Meaning in the National Cemetery

metery By Matt LaRoche ’17 In anticipation of Remembrance Day and Dedication Day this week, we have asked our Fellows why and how they commemorate the Civil War. Read Megan’s post below, then check back later in the week for more posts on commemoration and remembrance. In my last post, I appealed to the public to make good on the tragedies of Gettysburg in the same broad vein as President Clinton’s appeal at the 20th anniversary of the genocide at Srebrenica—to make the tragedy a “sacred trust” towards a better future. Needless to say, the material of the last piece stuck with me powerfully. In my musings I realized that I had, in my own experiences, stood witness to some small but remarkable efforts by visitors at Gettysburg to take something constructive and enduring from this tragedy

Seeing the Sorrow Anew: Recapturing the Reality of Suffering Through Srebrenica

Those who know death know mourning. Those who know mourning know the meaning of empty spaces that we all wish had stayed filled. But do we, or even can we, as the few members of this society who habitually reflect upon the tragedies and triumphs of the past, fully understand the immensity of the suffering we dwell upon while wandering our battlefields? [excerpt