The UC Santa Barbara Undergraduate Journal of History

From the height of the pansy craze through the post-Prohibition crackdown, vice officers, liquor agents, journalists, and lay observers repeatedly testified to the supposed hallmarks of “vocal homosexuality.” But how did vocal manner come to be heard as diagnostic of sexual deviance? On what grounds did courts accept auditory impressions, often framed as “what one might hear with one’s eyes closed,” as damming evidence of homosexuality? And why, long after visible “gender codes” were discredited as indices of homosexuality—after gay men unsettled, parodied, and multiplied the categories meant to contain them, and after psychiatric, military, and intellectual authorities conceded that no fixed sign could define “the homosexual”—did courts continue to admit testimony about the sound of queerness?  Why did the ear remain credible long after the eye had been discredited, and why does it remain so today? Through an analysis of popular press coverage from the “pansy craze,” medical writings of the 1930s, and post-Prohibition liquor-license revocation hearings, this paper traces how voice became a legally actionable marker of sexual deviance in early twentieth-century America. Drawing on Michel Foucault’s concept of power/knowledge and Nina Sun Eidsheim’s critique of sonic essentialism, it argues that auditory impressions were not incidental observations but historically produced forms of power/knowledge that authorized anti-gay policing in the absence of proof of illicit conduct. Courts treated high-pitched or “off-tune” voices as common-sense indicators of homosexuality. In doing so, they collapsed distinctions between expert and lay listening and codified aural stereotypes into law.

Previous literature has either excluded or diminished the role of motherhood in female political activism. However, South Africa’s high fertility rate, averaging six children per woman in 1950, suggests that most women were mothers during apartheid. Drawing upon memoirs, interviews, anti-apartheid pamphlets, and newspapers, this paper examines the intersection of motherhood and activism in South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle. Mothers faced the combined burdens of motherhood, patriarchy, and apartheid. With a husband oftentimes absent and laws that patriarchal norms reinforced, most mothers bore the brunt of household and familial duties, including financially supporting their families. They jumped over hurdles unique to their identity as women, restricted in terms of earning an income and having agency within the activism movement. They also faced emotional challenges as anti-apartheid activism encompassed imprisonment, to which mothers, who were held responsible for childcare, had profound emotional responses. Mothers fought against apartheid in the face of disempowerment, profound sorrow, and guilt, both within the bounds of their femininity as the nation’s “mothers,” and outside the bounds of femininity as protestors, trade unionists, MK members, and prisoners. This paper demonstrates that motherhood was a powerful force that not only acted as a political tool for women to criticize apartheid but also as fuel driving women’s resistance, reshaping the meaning of motherhood as a source of strength for female activists rather than as an impediment.

This paper examines the Guatemalan genocide of the early 1980s through the lived experiences of Maya communities targeted by Efraín Ríos Montt and previous leaders. Drawing on survivor testimonies from the USC Shoah Foundation and human rights reports, this paper illustrates how state violence served as both a counterinsurgency tactic and a racialized project. By emphasizing Mayan voices, many of whom witnessed the destruction of villages, the disappearance of relatives, and the systematic use of terror, this paper highlights the human dimensions of a conflict too often reduced to Cold War narratives. The evidence reveals a consistent pattern of the Guatemalan state casting Maya peoples as internal enemies, enabling scorched-earth campaigns, forced displacement, and widespread massacres under the guise of national security. Survivor accounts complicate official explanations and demonstrate that the violence overwhelmingly targeted civilians, regardless of political affiliation. Through a microhistorical approach grounded in personal testimony, this paper argues that the genocide cannot be understood solely as a response to insurgency. Instead, it reflects the convergence of racial ideology, military doctrine, and long-standing structures of exclusion that shaped Guatemala’s national identity. In tracing these forces, this paper illustrates the enduring legacies of the genocide and the ongoing struggles for justice and historical memory.

In an effort to set official precedent to festering doctrinal issues and create uniformity between the juxtaposed episcopal and imperial institutions, the first ecumenical councils of Christian church, ranging from 325 to 767 CE, were called to action. Over multiple lengthy council sessions, religious leaders and governmental officials assembled to engage in intense philosophical and theological debate, ultimately issuing sets of creeds and canons to be enacted into official imperial legislation. While many of the canons were primarily intended to cast authority over the male clergy and the laity, the rulings nevertheless had significant implications on the social, moral, and sexual autonomy of women. From the initial seven councils, I will focus solely on canons that explicitly regulated women; the First Council of Nicaea (325 A.D.), the Council of Chalcedon (451 A.D.), the Second Council of Constantinople (553 A.D.), and the Second Council of Nicaea (787 A.D.).The objective of this article is to historically contextualize and critically analyze specific canons to investigate the liminal space women were granted. The most prevalent themes among canons pertaining to women concerned the regulation of their living situation, delineation of proper communal dining hours, and the encouragement of celibacy within marriage. An examination of these texts reveals a notable absence of prescriptive directives for clergymen and laity to adhere to, thus in turn, sanctioning non-acestic lifestyles among the governed body. The institutionalization of such ambiguity under the ecclesiastical framework allowed for interpretive flexibility and fostered consensual and exploitative relationships.

The Rise and Fall of Boomtowns: Remington-UMC in Bridgeport during WWI" journeys the story of Remington Arms Corporation and how it build Bridgeport into a 'boomtown' during WWI. From a surge of immigration, to the emergence of women in the workforce, and all the socialist ideas spurring clashes between corporations and workers' unions, Bridgeport was a hotbed for all things involving the US war effort throughout the 1910s. Just as much as companies like Remington-UMC built this boomtown, ripple effects from this era are felt to this day by the departure of the company in the 1970-80s, following the national trend of 'white flight' to the suburbs and manufacturing jobs moving abroad. By understanding this story, the hope is that Bridgeport will see a revival built upon the legacies of its predecessors.

The September 11th attacks ignited a new era of American foreign policy–the Global War on Terror. As the United States sought out punishment for those responsible, Americans created a new narrative in which the U.S. played a more centralized role within the deterrence of globalized terrorism. Academic literature published after 9/11 has maintained that the United States became aware of threats from Afghanistan as a result of the 1998 Kenyan and Tanzanian embassy bombings; however, this study argues that the United States government was aware of terrorism from the nation of Afghanistan earlier than 1998 and ignored it in a larger effort to absolve the U.S. from participation in international affairs. While this study does not explain modern events between Afghanistan and the United States, it serves to analyze the pre-existing history between the two nations up to and including 2011 and contribute to existing scholarship about U.S.-Afghan relations.

The Hereford Mappa Mundi, the largest extant medieval world map, defies easy categorization. While scholars often dismiss it as either a purely symbolic artifact or laud it as a proto-cartographic stepping stone, such binary depictions overlook its core nature. Ultimately, the map is ultimately a zwischenform (in-between form), a hybrid form situated between schematic diagram and narrative image (bild). Drawing on Aristotle’s theory of visual duality and Andrea Worm’s conceptual framework of bild and diagram, this paper analyzes the map’s historical and aesthetic dimensions to argue that it occupies a liminal space in visual thought. Both theological chronology and spatial geography are present, merging sacred history, pseudo-science, and cultural ideology into a single visual artifact. The map’s topographical, ethnological, and zoological distortions function as more than error or ignorance; they reflect a medieval worldview that sought to organize space according to divine order. This historical context is crucial. Through depictions of monstrous peoples, upended cities, and gendered iconography, the map also constructs an implicit narrative that glorifies Western Christendom and marginalizes the “other,” be they Eastern Orthodox, non-Christian, or women in general. This tension between the normative and the positive is precisely what makes the Hereford map significant. It depicts a world not as it was but as its creators wanted to be. In doing so, it offers an unparalleled window into the late medieval mind through its use of image, diagram, and ideology.

Can the resistance thrive far from the battlefields, in places disconnected from the focal points of conflict? This study examines the intermesh of diplomacy, culture, and resistance in Argentina during World War II, breaking assumptions about neutrality in a country later shadowed by its ties to postwar fleeing Nazi fugitives. Argentina’s undecided wartime stance—fluctuating between official neutrality and Axis sympathies—was molded by U.S.-led propaganda, European colonial-cultural ties, and profound internal divisions. At the heart of all this was Albert Guérin, a WWI veteran and industrialist who led the Free French Committee in Buenos Aires. His grassroots resistance completely diminished geographical boundaries between continents. The committee united ideological factions through BBC broadcasts, distributed over 150,000 propaganda bulletins across Latin America, and significantly bolstered the Allied cause, recognized even by de Gaulle himself. Simultaneously, through the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs (CIAA), the U.S. leveraged Hollywood and Walt Disney as tools of cultural diplomacy. Gaucho Goofy, as a direct contrast to American cowboys, symbolized the U.S.-Argentine relations but was conspicuously absent in 1945 _Tres Caballeros–_sequence of 1943 _Saludos Amigos–_revealing the fluid and pragmatic nature of U.S. soft power. Through Guérin’s grassroots resistance and U.S. cultural diplomacy, Argentina emerges as a battleground of competing ideologies. Committed to his fight, Guérin declared in 1943, “Only victory will stop us!” Yet, the same Argentina that resisted fascism became entangled in postwar Nazi controversies, underscoring its ideological paradox and the enduring power of words against oppression.

Josephine Baker and Eartha Kitt were Black female entertainers who found great success when they emigrated to Paris. They both sought asylum in France after feeling threatened by  racism in America

French citizens were obsessed with jazz, and continued to be into the 1970s. Even during the Great Depression, jazz musicians, who were only hired if they were Black made about $300 per week. One of the most talented of these jazz stars was Baker. Known predominantly for her iconic stage presence, Baker was beloved by the French. With her signature crossed eyes, high energy movements, and beaming smile, Baker graced stage after stage in France.

Kitt’s stage presence and her ability to sing in seven languages propelled her European career forward. She went from being too poor to recognize a banana to favoring beluga caviar. Of course, Kitt had ups and downs in France in the 1950s-1960s. She was also privy to a snide comment or two about the fact that she was mixed race. These obstacles only served to propel Kitt forward to be more outspoken in her advocacy for women and people of color.

Both Baker and Kitt were stars through and through. These women were icons that left a mark on two continents. Though they each faced significant hardship, they both prevailed. From their incredible talent, their glamor, their activism, both women have undoubtedly imprinted themselves in popular culture: French and American, past and present.

Early modern English households produced a vast array of household recipes aimed at treating and preventing a wide variety of illnesses. Recipes were published in well-read books like Hannah Woolley’s The Supplement to the Queen-Like Closet, but they were also traded between households, creating a web of social exchange, and tested and tweaked by many recipe makers, illustrating how the home acted as a site of scientific endeavor. These household collections, now being transcripted more and more, have become a helpful source for historians looking at household economies, medical histories, and women’s participation in medicine. In this paper, I aim to contribute to the growing field of early modern recipe research through an analysis of three recipe collections: Hannah Woolley’s published recipes in The Supplement to the Queen-Like Closet, the household recipes of Margaret Baker (approx. 1675), and the recipes of Dorothy Shirley (written approx 1693/4-1721). My analysis of these sources demonstrates two main points: that recipe collections acted as living-documents, rather than a list of just the best treatments, and therefore are relics of experimentation; and that recipes further reflect interaction with outside sources and social investigation. From those two points, I conclude that recipe collections are highly personalized collections of household practices that reflect the specific social and intellectual work of household recipe makers.