Day 32

Kati has spent way too much time in campground and other icky public restrooms. She found a mystery bruise on her thigh and initially couldn’t figure out where it came from. And then she squatted, digging her elbow into her thigh and the pinch of pain solved the mystery. Needless to say, she may not be looking forward to the end of this trip but she’ll be happy the use her own toilet again.

We couldn’t leave Michigan — again — without a visit to the Henry Ford Museum. However, we knew one day would not be enough to see the museum, the factory, and Greenfield Village, not without rushing through all of it. We opted to select one section and explore it thoroughly — after all, we have to save something for a return visit. Because Kati was indecisive (although the factory would have been her choice if it was guided) and I wanted to see it all, we let G3 choose what he most wanted to see. He chose Greenfield Village.

Greenfield Village was designed by Ford because he believed hands-on experience was the best way to learn. Textbooks can only get you so far. And history has far more meaning if you can catch a glimpse of it. If you go to someone’s house or workshop suddenly they will be more real and you will have more of an interest in who that person was and what that person did. You’ve been following my blog, you know my philosophy on education is identical.

Ford envisioned Greenfield Village as a place for kids to learn about history and the people who populated it. Therefore, along with a working farm, Ford brought these famous peoples’ houses to Greenfield. He had them disassembled and the reassembled in Dearborn, Michigan. What a disappointment it was to learn that Edison’s Lab in Menlo Park, New Jersey is a replica of the real lab because Ford brought the original to Michigan. I was actually upset that a New Jersey landmark was moved. Yeah, that’s a first. Who knew I had it in me to be outraged on New Jersey’s behalf. But while I was dismayed to learn about Edison’s lab — maybe now that I’m thinking about it, I vaguely remember some guide in Jersey mentioning something about Ford — I was excited to be able to visit the homes and shops of other cool figures. Among the many buildings were homes lived in by the Wright Brothers, Noah Webster, Henry Heinz, Henry Ford, Robert Frost, and some guy responsible for the Idaho potato.

The guide in the the Wright Brothers’ Bicycle Shop annoyed me. He asked what Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Edison, the Wright Brothers, and Henry Ford all had in common. I was quick to answer, “They were all white men.” He shook his head and said, “There is no need to go there. That’s not relevant.” Then he looked at G3 and explained, “They were all big readers. They were self made men who taught themselves the skills they needed by reading a great deal.” Well, when Lincoln was elected President it was illegal for most of the black population in America to read. And it’s not like once slavery ended all former slaves could then miraculously read. And what educational opportunities did women have in the late 1800s? They were not as likely to read as their male counterparts. So yes, my answer absolutely was valid. If any of those men had been women or black they probably would not have succeeded to the degree that their race and gender permitted. But before I could argue this point, Kati and G3 simultaneously shot me a look that said, “Shut-up. Just shut-up.” But I am right, I know I am and the sort of narrative the guide wants to perpetuate fails to acknowledge the privilege white men have had throughout history.

Next we ventured into the Wright Brothers’ home and the guide there was wonderful. She spoke about their upbringing and the vital role both their parents played in cultivating their curiosity. They learned how to build from their mother. And their father, a minister, did keep many books in the house encouraging them to read everything — even Darwin, despite disagreeing with his theory of evolution. Their younger sister went to college — unusual for women of the time — and taught high school English and Latin. Wilbur died in 1912 but Orville lived through both World Wars. He got to see his planes used as weapons of war. He was raised in a Christian household by a minister. I can’t imagine he would have been happy to note the deaths that occurred due to his invention. What were his thoughts when planes were used to drop bombs that obliterated the populations of two Japanese cities? And let’s not forget the damage and deaths that occurred throughout Europe.

The guide in Henry Ford’s house was also really good. G3 impressed her when he asked, “If Ford didn’t invent the car, why is he so famous.” She excitedly launched into a history lesson about the assembly line — did you know Ford’s inspiration for it came from a slaughterhouse? — and Ford’s belief in paying people enough so that they could afford the product they helped make. According to her, he paid whites, immigrants, African-Americans, men, and women the same salary.

In Noah Webster’s house, we saw a short film about his life. He’s most famous for creating the first American dictionary — the first dictionary with words spelled the American way and with words used to specifically describe the American experience. However, he was also instrumental in helping to make school compulsory for children — although he believed a girl’s education should be limited, girls were not worthy of competing intellectually with their male peers. Along with the dictionary, he authored many other grammar books to be used in schools.

Greenfield Village had several artisans that G3 enjoyed watching. He was disappointed they didn’t have a blacksmith but excited to find they had glassblowing. He and Kati also enjoyed watching the potter. The three of us observed that all the artisans appeared bored out of their minds. We have been to many living museums, we have encountered many artisans at those museums, and never once have any of them looked so uninspired. You could tell they were just doing their job. They got no joy out of it. Unlike at other living museums, they were not permitted to engage with the audience. Men and women narrated what they were doing, but the artisans just did the same task over and over and over. And the narrators did not warmly welcome questions. They didn’t want to veer off script.

G3 asked if he could please ride the carousel. My initial instinct was to say no. It was an extra charge — in an already expensive place — plus there were so many other things to see that couldn’t be seen elsewhere. But if I didn’t let him ride, Dad would have struck me with a lightning bolt. How many carousel rides did Dad pay for in Greenport for G3 because he liked to ride. I’m sure part of the reason G3 wanted to go on the carousel was because carousels reminded him of his grandfather. Instead of a horse, G3 chose a rooster to ride. And as he went around, I could almost see Dad standing next to him, smiling and holding him the way he had when G3 was a toddler. I was happy the sunglasses and mask hid my tears.

For dinner, for our last meal in the mid-west, G3 asked for Culver’s. Oh cheese curds we will miss you.