Hey everyone, dont forget to stop by room 456 in the PAHB today from 2-4 for our first official meeting of the summer!

Look forward to seeing you all there!

Liv

Written by Beth Saunders, Curator and Head of Special Collections and Gallery, UMBC.

At the University of Maryland, Baltimore County’s Special Collections, where I am head curator, we’ve recently completed a major digitization and rehousing project of our collection of over 5,400 photographs made by Lewis Wickes Hine in the early 20th century.

Traveling the country with his camera, Hine captured the often oppressive working conditions of thousands of children – some as young as 3 years old.

As I’ve worked with this collection over the past two years, the social and political implications of Hine’s photographs have been very much on my mind. The patina of these black-and-white photographs suggests a bygone era – an embarrassing past that many Americans might imagine they’ve left behind.

But with numerous reports of child labor violations, many involving immigrants, occurring in the U.S., along with an uptick in state legislation rolling back the legal working age, it’s clear that Hine’s work is as relevant today as it was a century ago.

‘An investigator with a camera’

A sociologist by training, Hine began making photographs in 1903 while working as a teacher at the progressive Ethical Culture School in New York City.

Between 1903 and 1908, he and his students photographed migrants at Ellis Island. Hine believed that the future of the U.S. rested in its identity as an immigrant nation – a position that contrasted with escalating xenophobic fears.

Based on this work, the National Child Labor Committee, which advocated for child labor laws, hired Hine to document the living and working conditions of American children.

By the late 19th century, several states had passed laws limiting the age of child laborers and establishing maximum working hours. But at the turn of the century, the number of working kids soared – between 1890 and 1910, 18% of children ages 10 to 15 were employed.

In his work for the National Child Labor Committee, Hine journeyed to farms and mills in the industrializing South and the streets and factories of the Northeast. He used a Graflex camera with 5-by-7-inch glass plate negatives and employed flash powder for nighttime and interior shots, hauling upward of 50 pounds of equipment on his slight frame.

To gain entry into factories and other facilities, Hine sometimes disguised himself as a Bible, postcard or insurance salesman. Other times he’d wait outside to catch workers arriving for or departing from their shifts.

Along with photographic records, Hine collected his subjects’ personal stories, including their ages and ethnicities. He documented their working lives, such as their typical hours and any injuries or ailments they incurred as a result of their labor.

Hine, who considered himself “an investigator with a camera,” used this information to create what he termed “photo stories” – combinations of images and text that could be used on posters, in public lectures and in published reports to help the organization advance its mission.

Legislation follows

Hine’s muckraking photographs exemplify the genre of documentary photography, which relies upon the perceived truthfulness of photography to make a case for social change.

The camera serves as an eyewitness to a societal ill, a problem that needs a solution. Hine portrayed his subjects in a direct manner, typically frontally and looking straight into the camera, against the backdrop of the very factories, farmland or cities where they worked.

By capturing details of his sitters’ bare feet, tattered clothes, soiled faces and hands, and diminutive stature against hulking industrial equipment, Hine made a direct statement about the poor conditions and precarity of these children’s lives.

Hine’s photographs made a successful case for child labor reform.

Notably, the National Child Labor Committee’s efforts resulted in Congress establishing the Children’s Bureau in 1912 and passing the Keating-Owen Act in 1916, which limited working hours for children and prohibited the interstate sale of goods produced by child labor.

Although the Supreme Court later ruled it and a subsequent Child Labor Tax Law of 1919 unconstitutional, momentum for enshrining protections for child workers had been created. In 1938, Congress passed the Fair Labor Standards Act, which established restrictions and protections on employing children.

The National Child Labor Committee’s project also included advocacy for the enforcement of existing child labor regulations, a regulatory problem reemerging today as the Department of Labor – the agency tasked with enforcing labor laws – comes under fire for failing to protect child workers.

The ethics of picturing child labor

A recent surge of unaccompanied minors, primarily from Central America, has brought new attention to America’s old problem of child labor and has threatened the very laws Hine and the National Child Labor Committee worked to enact.

Some estimates suggest that one-third of migrants under 18 are working illegally, whether it’s laboring more hours than current laws permit, or working without the proper authorizations. Many of them perform hazardous jobs similar to those of Hine’s subjects: handling dangerous equipment and being exposed to noxious chemicals in factories, slaughterhouses and industrial farms.

While the content of Hine’s photographs remains pertinent to today’s child labor crisis, a key distinction between the subject of Hine’s photographs and working children today is race.

Hine focused his camera almost exclusively on white children who arrived in the country during waves of immigration from Europe during the late-19th and early-20th centuries. As art historian Natalie Zelt argues, Hine’s pictorial treatment of Black children – either ignored or forced to the margins of his images – implied to viewers that the face of childhood in America was, by default, white.

The perceived racial hierarchies of Hine’s era reverberate into the present, where underage migrants of color live and work at the margins of society.

Contemporary reports of child labor violations offer few images to accompany their texts, graphs and statistics. There are legitimate reasons for this. By not including identifying personal information or portraits, news outlets protect a vulnerable population. Ethical guidelines frown upon revealing private details of the lives of children interviewed. And, as Hine’s experience demonstrates, it can be difficult to infiltrate the sites of these labor violations, since they are typically kept secure.

Digital cameras and smartphones offer a workaround. Beginning in 2015, the International Labor Organization urged child laborers in Myanmar to become “young activists” and use their own images and words to create “photo stories” – echoing Hine’s use of the term – that the organization could then disseminate.

Photographs of child labor in foreign countries are far more common than those made in the U.S., which leaves the impression that child labor is someone else’s problem, not ours. Perhaps it’s too hard for Americans to look at this domestic issue square in the eyes.

A similar effect is at work when viewing Hine’s photographs today. While they were originally valued for their immediacy, they can seem to belong to a distant past.

But if Hine’s photographic archive of child laborers is evidence of the power of photography to sway public opinion, does the lack of images in today’s reporting – even if nobly intended – create a disconnect?

Is the public capable of understanding the harmful consequences of lack of labor enforcement when the faces of the people affected are missing from the picture?

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article and see more than 250 UMBC articles available in The Conversation.

The occasional clang of a shovel rings through the chilly spring air amid the chatter of a small group of cheerful students at the UMBC Community Garden. The students and Ariel Barbosa, program coordinator for Retriever Essentials at UMBC and a master’s student in community leadership, are working hard to ready seven garden plots for crop production the growing season. Already, cold-hardy greens are on their way in one bed, and cucumbers and eggplant are growing indoors awaiting transplant.

The gardening effort is a new initiative of Retriever Essentials, a faculty, staff, and student partnership to tackle food insecurity within the UMBC community. “We were hearing from the UMBC community that canned food does not provide the nutrition we need. What we need are fresh fruits and vegetables in the Essential Space.” Barbosa says, referring to the main food distribution site on campus, located in the Retriever Activities Center. The Essential Space distributes hundreds of pounds of donated food per week.

Growing to give back

They’re able to meet the needs of community members—and respond to new requests, like fresh produce—through robust and fruitful connections with UMBC staff members who want to help. Emily Paul ’21, global studies, service learning and community engagement program specialist at UMBC’s Shriver Center, co-instructs PRAC 096, a service-learning course that allows volunteers to earn course credit for their work in the garden. In addition to offering hands-on garden advice, Paul also helps recruit volunteers for the weekly free farmers markets and to maintain the garden over the summer. 

Scenes from the spring clean-up day for the Retriever Essentials garden plots. (Marlayna Demond ’11/UMBC)

As a student, Paul was struck by the growing impact Retriever Essentials was making on the campus community, and as a staff member, she wanted to give back. “I am hoping that students learn about the strength of community and their own ability to take action through joining the garden project,” says Paul. “It’s empowering to grow food and nourish your community.”

Beyond farmers markets

Barbosa’s first step toward providing fresh produce for UMBC community members in need was to partner with So What Else, a non-profit that sets up “free farmers markets” in the Baltimore-Washington region. The resulting markets on campus have been quite successful, but “if there’s a way for us to produce it ourselves, we would like to do that,” Barbosa says. “So we started dreaming up this idea of having our own garden.”

Eli Gooding ’24, biological sciences, and vice president of The Garden at UMBC, worked with Barbosa to offer seven plots in UMBC’s Community Garden. The Garden is a student organization that maintains the beds near the UMBC Police Station and works to address problems such as food waste and food insecurity through service opportunities.

Barbosa is highly invested in the project given her role with Retriever Essentials, but other staff members have also pitched in to offer support. In fact, UMBC track and field coach David Bobb “is going above and beyond to support this project,” Barbosa says, by providing gardening expertise, seeds, and encouraging his athletes to volunteer.

“Last spring he brought bags of spinach to donate—which he grew from his own garden,” Barbosa says. “That was the first time I thought, we can accept produce! Now it’s time to grow our own.”

Ryan Kmetz, director of sustainability, and Claire Runquist, environmental sustainability coordinator, have also “been very present and always willing to pitch in and explore new ideas,” Barbosa says.

For the gardening effort to be successful as the growing season gets into full swing, it will be important for volunteers to tend the plots consistently. “We’re trying to prove that we have a sustainable steady thing going on,” Barbosa says, adding that the garden and the Essential Space “are meeting a real need.” The dedicated team is not just growing crops, after all—they’re growing connections across the UMBC community and a broader commitment to fighting food insecurity.

Learn more about Retriever Essentialsand how to get involved or email the team.

Carson Wolf, ‘24 Chemical Engineering - traditional track, Economics minor

When did you do your Internship?

Summer 2023 

Where was your Internship?

Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in Livermore, CA. The Internship is through National Nuclear Security Administration - Minority Serving Institution Internship Program.

What is the focus of your Internship?

Additive manufacturing of liquid crystal elastomers

What are you looking forward to the most about your Internship?

I am looking forward to the 3-D printing aspect of my internship, meeting a lot of new people, and living in a new area of the country.

What advice do you have for students who are interested in getting involved in research or an internship?

Fill out all of the internship opportunities sent through the advising groups and go to the career fairs.

Are you a member of any clubs/campus organizations?

Tau Beta Pi, President of Lambda Chi Alpha, and Weightlifting Club

What are your goals after graduation?

Pursue chemical engineering within the defense or aerospace industries

Learn more about Carson Wolf:

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/carson-wolf-292382144