2007 Allan Nevins Prize Acceptance Speech: Jennifer Anderson

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When I returned to graduate school after many years away from the classroom, I remember vividly how daunted I felt by the prospect of writing my first essay for a class taught by Professor Tom Bender. After much agonizing, I finally handed in what I thought was a beautifully polished analysis of P. T. Barnum, Abraham Lincoln, and Walt Whitman. I'll leave it to each of you to contemplate what you might have to say about those three characters, but what sticks in my memory was Professor Bender's response to my belabored efforts. While appreciating my prose, he pointed out that: "to make a paper seamless defeats some kinds of curiosity" and he urged me to "open up and ask additional questions that might enrich or complicate" my account. Since then I have tried to follow that advice; my dissertation is far from seamless, but I did try to cast a wide net, to ask big and sometimes baffling questions, and to remain open to where ever my research might take me.

Given the nature of my topic—the history of the mahogany trade—my research has, quite literally, taken me to exotic places—from the mountains of Jamaica to the Invigilation Room of the National Archives in England. There I was locked into a room with a huge stack of papers from an ancient lawsuit, which, over the course of generations, had wended their way from Jamaica, through the Chancery Courts in London, to the dirty, smoke-hazed boxes that the archivist fetched for me one at a time. One of my happiest moments was when I gingerly opened up an old plantation account book and a large dead moth fell out. I could well imagine it getting tangled in the pages as a planter wrote up his accounts by candlelight one long-ago evening.

This evening I welcome the opportunity to thank many of those who have encouraged and inspired me along the path of historical investigation that has taken me such interesting places. As an undergraduate at Barnard College, I had the good fortune to study with many distinguished scholars. I especially enjoyed taking several courses with Professor Eric Foner, who sparked my interest in nineteenth-century history. Professor Herb Sloan served as my undergraduate advisor and was a wonderful mentor for me. He helped me to hone both my analytical and writing skills as he shepherded me through the process of researching my thesis. His meticulous comments—typed up on his seemingly ancient typewriter—were always thought-provoking. During my career as a graduate student at NYU, I also worked with a stellar faculty. I would like to thank my dissertation committee, Tom Bender, Walter Johnson, Nicole Eustace, and Lauren Benton. Special thanks to my advisor, Karen Kupperman. She has been unfailingly supportive, incredibly generous with her time and encouragement, and set a high standard for intellectual rigor. Professor Kupperman, I hope you know how much your advisees appreciate all you do for us—all the recommendations written, all the rough drafts read, and crises of faith averted!

I would like also to acknowledge my mother and father, both dedicated educators, and my husband, Rick Stattler. When we met, he was the archivist at the Rhode Island Historical Society. I quickly discovered in him a kindred spirit. His dedication and passion for history have helped me sustain my own. Also I thank my son, William Gabriel, for waiting to be born until the day after I handed in my dissertation.

I am enormously honored to receive the Allan Nevins dissertation prize, which recalls the accomplishments of a most distinguished historian. I was also humbled to see the list of historians who have received this accolade in past years, many of whom went on to write books I have read and admired. I hope I will be able to do justice to this very encouraging and much-appreciated recognition as I embark on my new career as an assistant professor at SUNY-Stony Brook. Thank you all so much.