From the War of 1812 to eternity via the Y chromosome

One aim of researching family history is to discover the origins of the male line.

This is a popular objective for genealogists as it shows the geographical origins of the surname which a person carries. There are other possible choices of course. The female line would take a completely different path, or one could track all ancestral lines equally.

Pursuing the last option may quickly lead to an uncontrollable flood of ancestors, but it has the benefit that some lines are easier to research than others – and reminds us that our real roots spread far and wide.

It was easy to follow my mother’s female line which took me back to the kings of Scotland (they were males I know) and thence to Charlemagne from whom most Europeans are descended. See ‘Why do family history?’.

The Genographic Project takes things much further than any genealogy could. Around 100,000 years ago, an unnamed male ancestor developed a mutation named ‘P305’ in his Y chromosome. 70, 000 years before anyone invented surnames, one of his male descendants emerged from Africa. A later ancestor known as ‘M207’ was born in Central Asia around 30,000 years ago. His descendants went on to settle in Europe, South Asia and the Middle East over the following 20,000 years.

Today, most western European men belong to the R-M342 branch who descended from this lineage. It appears to have been one of the earliest lineages to settle in Europe more than 25,000 years ago. So even back then my ancestors were pioneers.

My current search aims are rather modest by comparison, I’m hoping to trace my male line back about 500 years, not 50,000. ‘M 207’ may have thought it was too hard to get to America but much later, some of his descendants ended up there.

The name of my nearest ancestor who arrived in America is something I’ve yet to work out. The DNA evidence does not show a certain connection to any relevant participating family in North America. In any case, the only way to build a certain link is from documentary evidence, but a DNA link could provide a clue if the right people take part.

Back to surnames… 

My father changed his surname from Poe to Lyell just before getting married. It was a logical move for him since he had been brought up by the Lyell family from about the age of 7.

 

As a young man, I announced my interest in family history. My father asked me what I’d like to know. The question top of my list was ‘Tell me about your father and his family’.  ‘Oh, he was William George Lyell and his father was William Ly…’  ‘No’, I said ‘your real father.’ ‘Well, he was my real father’.  I looked at him and said, ‘I have your birth certificate here…’ 

It was a tense moment.

‘OK’, he conceded, ‘See what you can find out and I’ll tell you if it’s true’.  ‘Would anyone like a cup of tea’ Mum interjected…

That was a challenge I took up; the ‘see what you can find’ I mean.  I had the cup of tea too.

I had noticed some of the family stories didn’t match up. Mum had told me what she knew of Dad’s actual parents. Though she swore me to secrecy, the documents allowed me to ask the question. That’s the first lesson: listen to the stories but get the documents!

Finding out about the Poes proved difficult as my father was not the first to change his name. My grandfather used many names and on other occasions seems to have obscured facts. He was not alone in this and when combined with earlier generations distrust of governments seeking information, illiteracy, the loss of records through fire or neglect, wishful thinking and faulty memories and the endeavour is quite a challenge.

It took a little time to track my grandfather’s birth details, he was born at Shasta Retreat in northern California. Once I could plug into the census records it was relatively straightforward to make leaps through the next three generations to my great great great grandfather, William Romulus Poe (WRP).

I thought the gallop back in time would continue, but here the trail quickly ran cold.

I was comforted by the likelihood that good records could probably be found somewhere and that they would take me back at least another three generations to perhaps indicate where the family were before they arrived in America. However, finding WRP’s birth and death details is a drawn-out task.

I knew that WRP married Margaret Brown in Garrard County, Kentucky in 1817. There were however too many possible Poe ancestors in the early census records that survive and these are not very helpful because only the head of the household (usually a male) is listed. Williams and Johns abounded as given names and there were natural variations of surname spellings due to assumptions of the census collector or the lack of literacy of the household member who answered the door.

For a long time, I couldn’t find a death record for WRP. I was pretty sure that he must have died and I knew he had divorced my great great great grandmother in 1850. Several people thought he’d gone to prison and died there, but the relevant prison records show the fellow concerned was 30 years too young. 

Others thought he was the same William Poe who married Sarah Harris, but this was impossible as the two Williams were living in the same area with different wives at the same time. Some material on the internet still confuses these two people and mixes up their families.

Eventually, I found what could have been him in Illinois in 1860 living with a much younger woman, Mary Poe, and a child. I eventually uncovered that WRP had married a second time and left Missouri via Indiana to settle in Illinois where he ended his days in 1866 – only seven months after the death of his eldest son, Alonzo Marion Poe, a Washington Territory pioneer.

After confirming that the two Williams were the same person, I then found that a daughter from his second marriage, Lucy Jane Blandy (nee Poe) had joined the National Society United States Daughters of 1812 in the 1920s. The Society is a women's service organisation for descendants of patriots who aided the American cause during the War of 1812 – the final battle for American independence.

Her application papers had some details of the man although nothing of his parents. Mrs Blandy was celebrated as the ‘last real daughter’ for some time before her death at the age of 94. Her application material was complete and had been confirmed by authorities at the time, though the specific letter of confirmation is no longer in the file. Her application was very specific about who her father was, listing the unit he served in specifically showing him as a corporal. This allowed me to obtain a copy of his file from the US National Archives. Sadly, it showed very little, simply confirming his period of service and that he joined in Virginia.

I then obtained a copy of Mrs Blandy’s mother’s pension records as the widow of WRP. Again, the US National Archives were obliging but again the file contained very little. It confirmed that Mrs Mary J Poe was eligible for a pension and had a physical description of WRP ‘from her best recollection’.

However…

Mary was illiterate and wasn’t born until about 15 years after the 1812 war ended. She couldn’t recall what unit her husband served in but nonetheless, her application was accepted. Her pension application was linked to a different William Poe than her daughter had later claimed for membership of the 1812 society. This fellow had joined in Kentucky. 

My inclination is to believe that the daughter’s research in the 1920s was more thorough; it was confirmed by military authorities at the time but the letter confirming this has been lost – it was no longer necessary. Nonetheless, I feel some obligation to also check out the second William Poe.

Nonetheless, to a large extent ancestor William Romulus Poe has been found but I've not found any clues about his parents.

As I mentioned, DNA evidence shows no certain connection to any other participating Poe family in North America. Hopefully, more people will participate and that may help uncover the next clue. 

But the DNA evidence does show a match for a family descended from a John Poe born in Dublin in about 1850. So far, I have not been able to trace the connection to him and my line. His parents are also not known. I am hopeful that a link can be found, eventually, to this family.

The interesting thing is that he also fought in the War of 1812 – for the British!

Uniforms of the Virginia militia during the 1812 War

Joan’s Treasures

The house near Darjeeling where Mum was born looked out to the west across a deep valley. In the valley, tea bushes could be seen. Above the horizon hung the snowcapped mountain range at the end of the Himalayas called Kanchenjunga. Its five peaks are regarded by the local Tibetan Buddhists as five treasure houses.

via Wikipedia

Mum left us with five treasure houses of her own.

1 – Music

Particularly polyphonic piano music; Bach and jazz. The piano was her great escape and relaxation. One of her most enjoyable activities in later life was teaching the piano. The breadth of her interests is illustrated in her musical choices. Jo Dunbar, Mum’s mate from her days in the Women’s Australian Auxiliary Airforce (WAAAF) regarded Song of India and the Warsaw Concerto as significant pieces in the intersection of their lives. Mum may not have admired the music but appreciated the link which it brought.

2 – Her WAAAF experience

Mum’s time in the WAAAF was a short but significant experience during WWII. She was a member of the pioneer radar group which played a significant part in the Australian war effort. She found the variety of people she met expansive and satisfying. She built the resolve to identify with ‘real people’ – with or without faults. This may also have been where she developed the ‘military abuse’ style of communication – a thump to the left shoulder and a swift kick in the posterior being memorable expressions of her affection. The WAAAF allowed Mum to get to know Australia and Australians outside her family – it was her opportunity to develop the next treasure house.

3 – Independence 

This she valued highly. She was not trapped by anyone’s conventions and resisted all control. She had been at the University of Melbourne when it was not common for women to be there. She was an early feminine feminist, quietly stubborn, and a brave uncomplaining fighter. She believed in an Australian republic and ‘de-Britified’ flag when many of her generation and background – and indeed her family - would strongly hold the opposite conviction.

4 – Youthful Intellect

Head over heart. Always interested in new thoughts, Mum sought the ‘plain hard facts’. In matters of religion and philosophy, she was not interested in ideology or dogmatism – these being restrictions to both independence and intellect. Her approach was ‘no bull…dust’ (I think or something similar). She understood that life is full of unresolvable paradoxes and could comfortably live with those.

5 – The Bengal Tiger

The tiger is her lasting symbol – not the Sher Khan of Kipling though. A more stylish symbol: the bold black, yellow, orange and white. Consider the tiger’s regal inscrutability. Moving quietly with strength and conviction. Blending with the environment and though unseen never lost.

As they were:
Corporal Jo Lehmann, Sergeant Joan Marsh and Sergeant Kath Hindson

Adapted from my eulogy for her delivered 29 December 1997.

Employers and volunteers: instructive models

My last post described a few interactions from my student life. This post sketches some people in the next step – working life.

Contacts I made as a student in part-time work lead to what became my regular employment as an administrator/manager at La Trobe University. The role lasted for over three and a half decades – too long in one place perhaps.

An early fixed term job included a stint on the counter in the Graduate Studies Office. The unit was managed by Simon Boeyen, a calm and respected administrator who commenced employment soon after the University was established. 

My supervisor, Joy Jowett, was a strong personality and consistent with the times was always referred to as 'Mrs Jowett'. The first task she gave me was to read the University Act, then the Statutes, Regulations and Administrative Handbook. The task became more interesting as I proceeded and provided an excellent grounding for the future.

I tried to understand Mrs Jowett by watching how she interacted and guessed she may not be as fearsome as her first impression seemed.

A few days into the job the morning paper had a story about abortion, a very controversial issue in Melbourne at the time. She showed me the paper and asked me earnestly, ’You’re an intelligent young man. What do you think about abortion?’

Eager not to offend my boss or appear lame my mind went to work. ‘Mrs Jowett’, I said solemnly, ‘I think the whole idea is based on a misconception’. After a slow deep breath, her expression relaxed and she roared with laughter. I never found out what her opinion was though.

The following year I gained permanent employment and worked near Mrs Jowett. In the intervening period, her unit had merged with student administration. I maintained my habit of calling her ‘Mrs Jowett’ but she soon took me aside and said ‘In this area, everyone calls me Joy. As it seems to be the custom I suggest you do the same’. So, I did. She provided an excellent example of dedication, adaptability and good humour.

One of my most satisfying activities was as ‘scholarships officer’ supporting PhD candidates, many of whom were part of the increase of such students from overseas in the 1980s. There was a host of interesting candidates many with stories of hardship overcome to successfully complete studies which improved the sum of, mostly useful, human knowledge.

Later work in the University Secretariat brought me into contact with a number of interesting people many of whom had become successful in their chosen profession and were doing something ‘extra’ by volunteering to be on the University's governing board or its committees. Two of the notables were first chancellor Sir Archibald Glenn and John Norgard both ‘founding fathers’ of the University who maintained an interest in it for most of their lives.I’ve mentioned Nancy Millis previously.

Millis was preceded as Chancellor by Richard McGarvie. McGarvie’s day job at the time was as a judge of the Supreme Court of Victoria, but he was energetic in the volunteer role of Chancellor eager to contribute to improving the university in general and good governance process in particular.

He was meticulous in personally answering all correspondence addressed to him or to send ‘thank you’ notes for many who assisted him in various ways. A particular legacy was his support the establishment of a law school. In a different era, his name would probably have subsequently graced the relevant building.

He was often asked for an off the cuff legal opinion but always declined to give such advice verbally – except where he was happy to pronounce with a smile that a matter was ‘of ambiguous legality’. The problem would have been that if he did give an opinion and the university disagreed with it there would be no easy way out of a difficult situation. But he was not against given written advice and would do so from time to time on matters of policy. 

Before I understood how this all worked I had been concerned about a matter which may have been sensitive. I thought the best thing to do was ask him what course of action he may prefer. His first response was ‘I’m sorry I don’t understand what you are asking.’ This surprised me as I felt my description was clear enough and his comprehension of the situation would have easily made up for any descriptive inadequacies.  So, I tried again, being a little more direct. He replied again in the same distant tone, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you are asking.’ My mouth opened for a third attempt but my brain told me ‘you have your answer now change the subject’. That proved the right course.

He was also famous for the ‘McGarvie Model’ which proposed a change to the Australian Constitution to remove references to the monarchy and establish a republic. He submitted it to the Republic Advisory Committee in 1993 and doubtless drew on his direct experience of Australian politics. 

At the Constitutional Convention of 1998, it was the second most popular model of the four voted upon. Its strength was that it required the least change and recognised that the move would be ceremonial. It was straightforward, easily implemented, practical and principled – all hallmarks of McGarvie. Most importantly it would have kept the separation of powers intact. Opposition to it claimed that it didn’t allow for the popular election of the head of state, but that would be a substantial change to the nature of Australian Government – not the 'problem' which becoming a republic was aiming to fix.

A funny thing happened on the way to the Agora

I spent a lot of time at university.  

It took me ‘longer than average’ to complete my degree – and my education in life. But, the experience melted the scales of parochialism from my eyes.

My student life and belated maturing were centred on Chisholm College a residential establishment named after Caroline Chisholm.

The original Chisholm, who died some 95 years before the College was opened, provided shelter for wayward miners during Victoria’s gold rush. The College was named and designed by students guided by the astute chemist Professor Jim Morrison. In the early days, it was said, black anarchist flags blew in the wind from the College buildings - called 'towers'.

Not total anarchists, however, rules for residents slowly evolved, the first being to the effect that ‘thou shall not lead a horse up the stairs’ – the result, so legend had it, of one resident finding that a horse doesn’t like to go down the stairs...

A week before the 1975 academic year, I was interviewed by Professor Morrison, Head of College, before being offered a residential place. He asked me to commit to contributing to College life.

Not sure what to offer, I told jokes and joined the College's General Committee.

One gig was a College dinner and Jim invited a distinguished speaker. I heard that his name was ‘Mac-something’. I assumed he must also be a fellow-Scot (Jim had a gentle Glaswegian lilt) and offered a couple of Irish jokes to kick things off. 

Jim then introduced Professor Bob Magee. Sure enough - he was in full possession of a clear Irish brogue. Magee was also a chemist and advocate for the residential colleges. He had an international outlook, acting as honorary consul for Pakistan at one time, and that approach was consistent with the College ethos.

Later, I was part of the Committee which invited University Council members to visit the College to see for themselves what College life was like. Council members were grouped into pairs accompanied by a committee member to visit one of the 12 Chisholm towers. My pair consisted of Mr Justice Smithers, the dignified and engaging Chancellor, and Mrs Cecile Storey an outspoken advocate for many things. Both were good with people. 

The senior residents for Tower 4 were a Korean couple Mr and Mrs Kim. Mr Kim was completing a PhD in economics. They were a little overawed by the apparent dignity of their guests.

Mrs Kim asked Mrs Storey about her family. That went well and the Chancellor added some jovial comments. More relaxed, Mrs Kim then asked ‘How long have you been married to each other?’  I don’t know who was faster to deny any such association with the other but Mrs Storey was certainly the loudest and Mr Smithers the most amused. I encouraged the laughter with nervous enthusiasm and Smithers' genuine warmth and mirth won the day.

When Jim Morrison left Australia for a stint in Utah, the College was run by Mike Tolhurst who, as an administrator rather than an academic, was a radical choice. But he was the right person for the time and showed the Committee how to strengthen the College’s infrastructure and future.

Tolhurst was a creative, respected and fearless executive and a wise mentor in the administrative arts. It was at this time that I found myself writing the College newsletter. Someone else got it started naming it ‘Emanon’. The name was picked after struggling with a number of not very inspiring alternatives. This one sounded interesting – it’s ‘no name’ spelt backwards.  It was one of my most enjoyable student activities.

Of course, studying was another… 

I did manage to find time to attend lectures and tutorials though got as much out of going to lectures I was not enrolled in as the ones I was. Most of them stirred my brain but a standout was a series of lectures on Max Weber by Werner Pelz who managed to clarify concepts which had remained foggy to me. While I learned that Pelz’s views were sometimes unique his ability to summarise ideas made them accessible. In those days, it was indeed still “a new university with a meritocratic ethos and [some] brilliant teachers”.

Caroline Chisholm on the old five dollar note.

Let me know if you have any stories to add.

See also: Employers and Volunteers, Professor Emeritus Nancy Millis, AC MBE: an appreciation, Jottings of interest: August 2017 and La Trobe: Rambler, Writer and Royalist.

Two Darjeeling horsemen: one Hindi mystery

Amongst a small treasure trove of old photos my grandfather left is one blurry picture which holds a small mystery.

It took me a little time to work out exactly what was in front of me, but a few things are certain – and a few things are not.

One of the horsemen in the picture is my grandfather Frederick George Marsh and the second person is the visitor who sent the picture to him.

Fred was born in South Australia in 1891 and made his way to Darjeeling in 1912. He began working for tea planting pioneer Claud Bald in January 1913 and in 1917 married Margaret, Claud’s eldest daughter. After serving his apprenticeship as assistant manager under Claud’s guidance he became manager of Phoobsering Tea Estate – one of the oldest in the area – in April 1919.

The picture was taken in front of the old house at Phoobsering. Another clearer picture of the house and Fred confirm this.

The first picture is too unclear to recognise Fred’s face, though he is probably the one on the right. The fellow the left seems to have a more prominent jaw than Fred. In addition, the horse on the right looks more like Fred’s horse Dumarsingh which he had about this time. Here is Fred on Dumarsingh.

There is a note on the back of the blurry photo which reads as follows:

“your homestead

yourself and a visitor”

This confirms what we’ve been able to work out. But then follows two ‘squiggles’ which at first I thought were the undecipherable signature of the person who sent the picture to Fred. 

On taking a second look, I thought the writing may be Hindi. So, I asked a former colleague, Dr Peter Friedlander, who teaches Hindi what he thought of the two markings.  He responded quickly to say that they do look like Hindi, “the first is perhaps ‘ma’ and the second is I am sure a ‘ra’.” 

But what do they mean? 

Apparently, nothing. But they must have meant something to the two fellows in the picture! The tea planters were fluent in the local languages so this part is no mystery. The other fellow is probably also a tea planter but could have been another professional or a minister. So, what are the options?  I can only think of the following:

• The words signified something about the writer. Perhaps it’s a rough approximation of the pronunciation of the writer’s name – O’Mara or at a stretch Meagher?

• They represented something in common between the two. Perhaps a war-cry of the Northern Bengal Mounted Rifles to which they were both obliged to belong? This is more of a stretch as there is nothing to suggest that the unit had a war cry. In any case, a war cry usually had a meaning and these two characters together seem to have no meaning.

At the moment the mystery remains. There is nothing else in the little treasure box which includes written Hindi and no other pictures which resemble the dapper visitor.

Let me know if you have any ideas.

Jesus: the most significant person in history?

In 2013 computer scientist Steven Skiena and the Google engineer Charles Ward published Who's Bigger? Where Historical Figures Really Rank. The book ranks historical figures in order of significance.

Skiena and Ward compared all English language Wikipedia articles against five criteria. The idea was that to measure the current fame of each subject. The results were then modified to compensate for a skewing of data toward more recent subjects, arriving at true likely historical significance.

The aim was to be purely quantitative. This sounds admirable but could it be verified? The writers compared their results to various other rankings and do a good job of showing that their more dispassionate approach has advantages. 

The main limitation is that results are skewed towards the English-writing world.

So, who comes out on top? 

Remember, 'significance' is not the same as 'admirable' – or even ‘great’. The top five entries on the list are:

• Jesus,
• Napoleon,
• Mohammed,
• William Shakespeare, and
• Abraham Lincoln.

Many of these same five turn up in other lists as well.

Passover / Easter season is a good time to consider the significance of the person at the top of the list: Jesus of Nazareth.

More books have been written about Jesus than anyone else in history. 184 are listed on goodreads Listopia ‘Books about Jesus’. But this list is really only currently available books. 

Hundreds more have been written over the centuries. Is it possible that there is now nothing more to say on the subject? I doubt it.

Every generation will reinterpret any historical figure, and this is more so for a person whose name evokes controversy. Each age has its own special interests and 'lenses' through which sees the past. New events will also often colour a reassessment of the past. 

So – the past is here to stay.

Skiena and Ward point out that Jesus is the only person for whom they have no birth and death date. 

We may never have these questions settled for sure but it is always possible that new archaeological and historical research will have more to say on the subject.

Most people now accept that Jesus could not have been born on 25 December in any year. For one thing, no wise shepherd would be outside in the winter's cold and for another the date was chosen centuries after the event. 

There are a couple of plausible theories on Jesus actual birth date, late September seeming most likely.

As for his death, commemorated at this time of year, there are apparently good reasons for believing that it was a Thursday, some even postulate a Wednesday. The year of his death seems to be either 33 or 30. At the moment 4 April 30 AD looks most plausible.

Dr James D. Tabor has a series of posts that look at the week leading up to Jesus death, touching on many of the mysteries this convergence of Jewish and Christian traditions and memories of Jesus’ Last Days in Jerusalem have stirred. 

Dr Tabor was Professor of ancient Judaism and early Christianity in the Department of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina, where he has taught since 1989. His work on early Christianity has been a life-long passion and he offers a number of fresh and thoughtful perspectives.

Three of his six books are relevant to the topic; The Jesus Dynasty: A New Historical Investigation of Jesus, His Royal Family, and the Birth of Christianity (2006); The Jesus Discovery: The New Archaeological Find that Reveals the Birth of Christianity (with Simcha Jacobovici) (2012), and most recently Paul and Jesus: How the Apostle Transformed Christianity (2012).

Interestingly, Tabor himself doesn’t rank Jesus as the most significant person in western history.

Who is his nomination? Paul. Because it was Paul who ‘invented’ Jesus as we tend to know him today. 

Skiena and Ward rank Paul as the 34^th most significant person in history – still pretty important of course.

In Christianity Before Paul Tabor points out that Paul never met Jesus. It was not until seven years after Jesus’ death, that Paul reports his vision of ‘Christ’ whom he identifies with Jesus raised from the dead.

It was another three years later that Paul met the apostles Peter and James then leader of the ‘Jesus movement’. Paul operated independently of the original apostles, teaching his ‘Gospel’, in Turkey for another 10 years before making a return trip to Jerusalem around 50 AD.

As the result of Paul, it was the way Jesus came into the world, and how he left — Christmas and Easter — that came to re-define Christianity.

For James, Jesus brother, the Christian message was not the person of Jesus but the message that Jesus proclaimed. What is preserved in the Book of James is a reflection of the original apocalyptic proclamation of Jesus: the ‘Gospel of the kingdom of God’ with its political and social implications.

Model of the Jerusalem Temple complex at the time of Jesus and Paul

See also: When was Jesus born? 

‘You’ve always been a bit oversensitive’

One of the tools for self-understanding is to consider what people said of you when you were a child. 

While I was tagged as sensitive from time to time, I suppressed that idea until recently. So, I went to Dr Google, and saw several mentions of the book The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You, by Elaine N. Aron.

Aron was the first to identify the trait as such though she credits earlier observation of the trait to Carl Jung and seems also attracted to his methods of becoming aware of the trait in yourself.

It isn't the answer to everything, but I did learn something about myself. The trait is not uncommon and it’s not an illness. Great! 

Aron opens her book with the following quote which highlights her tone: supportive and optimistic.

“I believe in aristocracy, though -- if that is the right word, and if a democrat may use it. Not an aristocracy of power, based upon rank and influence, but an aristocracy of the sensitive, the considerate and the plucky. Its members are to be found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secret understanding between them when they meet. They represent the true human tradition, the one permanent victory of our queer race over cruelty and chaos. Thousands of them perish in obscurity, a few are great names. They are sensitive for others as well as themselves, they are considerate without being fussy, their pluck is not swankiness but power to endure, and they can take a joke.”  E.M. Forster, Two Cheers for Democracy

Are you one?

Aron’s book offers a series of questions to help to discover if this may be your trait. For example:

•         Do you have a keen imagination and vivid dreams? 
•         Is time alone each day as essential? 
•         Are you ‘too sensitive’ according to others? 
•         Do noise and confusion quickly overwhelm you? 
•         Do you take a long time to make a decision?

Most people feel overstimulated every once in a while, but for the HSP, it can be a way of life. Aron is a psychotherapist and highly sensitive person herself and her book shows how to identify this trait and make the most of it in everyday situations.

Aron wants us to know that:

• The trait is normal. It is found in 15 to 20% of the population.
• It is innate. It reflects a certain type of survival strategy, being observant before acting.
• HSPs are more aware than others of subtleties.
• Without the stimulation, HSPs are bored.
• But with too much, we are also more easily overwhelmed.
• This trait is not a new discovery, but it has been misunderstood.

Because HSPs prefer to look before entering new situations, they are often called ‘shy’. But shyness says Aron, is learned, not innate. In fact, she says, 30% of HSPs are extraverts, although the trait is often mislabeled as introversion.

She also points out that sensitivity is valued differently in different cultures. In cultures where it is not valued, HSPs tend to have low self-esteem. They are told ‘don’t be so sensitive’ so that they feel abnormal. Her overly simple description of different cultures was disappointing, but the book is general in nature and comparative cultures is not her main focus. A deeper study of this application of the idea may be illuminating, however.

It is also be a useful concept for historians, and biographers, to have in mind. It may be a forgotten element for understanding why some people behave the way they do.

But Aron’s focus is to provide advice to the individual and also to parents and employers (and slightly less convincingly to GPs). 

A review of past situations can often confirm that reactions and behaviours are/were ‘informed’ (actually misinformed) by being an HSP.

Strategies for living

Aron suggests that HSPs can gain confident self-awareness by reframing some of their life experiences to take account of the HSP status.

One more positive note came to mind. Early in my administrative career, I had a supervisor who worked through some now forgotten issue with me. At the conclusion of the discussion about how I could deal with situations more effectively in the future, he concluded with ‘I don’t mind if you make mistakes, just make new ones.’ It was both humorous and empowering and reflected his own inner confidence and understanding of people.

The strategies Aron suggested which I have found useful are:

•          Take a break to reframe and digest. Breathe deeply, rest or walk.
•          Identify my abilities and talk about them.
•          Avoid indecision by acknowledging that I can’t do everything but do need to do something.
•          Forget the idea of ‘failure’, life is a learning process.
•          Do a monthly review of achievements.
•          Don’t be a perfectionist.
•          Vocation is a balance of personal ‘bliss’ with wider community need.
•          Reframe childhood and career events in light of this information especially those previously seen as ‘failures’.

Aron also suggests the intriguing idea of ‘re-parenting’ oneself. Aron’s suggestion here is how you ‘talk’ to yourself. The ideas can help with self-management and will be useful for people managers and teachers/rabbis. 

They are actually not new ideas, but they are easy forgotten:

•          Maintain a consistent system of values and a happy, healthy home
•          Allow enough time.
•          Don’t stifle curiosity.
•          Intellectually stimulate.
•          Encourage friendships and discover hobbies.
•          Avoid discouraging unusual questions or attitudes.
•          Don’t over-schedule.
•          Respect their knowledge.

___

E.M. Forster

E.M. Forster (1 January 1879 – 7 June 1970) was an English novelist, essayist, and social and literary critic - and pretty clearly an HSP.  A Passage to India (1924) is considered one of his finest works. The novel examines racism and colonialism as well as the theme of the need to maintain both ties to the earth and a cerebral life of the imagination. 

Forster declined to make a list of people who shared what he saw as an admirable characteristic, but I have drawn one up in my mind already and short biographies of some of them will appear in future posts.

Professor Emeritus Nancy Millis, AC MBE: an appreciation

Nancy Millis graduated with a Bachelor of Agricultural Sciences from the University of Melbourne in 1945 and obtained a Master in 1946 before going on to earn a PhD at Bristol University.  

Her doctoral research was on microbial growth and fermentation in cider that started her lifelong interest in anything that ferments; both as a scientist and a consumer.

A microbiologist, she was the fourth woman to be appointed as a Professor at the University of Melbourne and played major roles in genetic engineering and water quality. Professor Millis was recognised and honoured by nations and peers for her work in developing higher education courses, maximising links between universities and industries, and her devotion to science and innovation.

In 1977, in recognition of her academic leadership, she was elected to the Australian Academy of Technological Sciences and Engineering. She was promoted to a Professorship in 1982 and remained in that position until her retirement in 1987.

Professor Millis served as the fourth Chancellor of Victoria's third university for the period 1992-2006. This is where I got to know her as I was secretariat to the University Council. The Chancellor’s role is partly ceremonial but includes chairing University's Council meetings – a role akin to chairing the board of a public company. Networks, experience and influence are essential for success in the role.

Professor Millis was an approachable, humorous, straight-shooter, unimpressed with airs and contemptuous of verbosity. She was a delight to work with. She was also disarmingly unassuming and convivial with students or the public. Highly respected and trusted by Council members as both independently minded and fearless, she accepted that the managerial role of the Vice-Chancellor should be supported without interference.

My memory includes two humorous exchanges:

One year we had a series of Christmas cards painted in a stylistic way with religious themes. My role was to find out which ones she wished to use. One represented the baby Jesus glowing in the manger with men gathered around. ‘Looks like a good Australian BBQ’ she said.

At one Council meeting, a distinguished member known for his lengthy literary expositions wished to add something to a long discussion on an issue of minor concern. ‘With your permission, Chancellor, may I comment on this matter?’.  ‘If you must’ she replied sotto voce. Unwounded, the speaker launched into a detailed exposition, until she interrupted with ‘Thank you, Professor’.

Through her 'retirement', she maintained an office at the University of Melbourne and presented at international symposia and public discussion on her areas of expertise. 

In 2002, the year she turned 80, Millis was surprised to be one of a handful of scientists honoured in a series of Australian stamps. A TV report took the opportunity to highlight this and her life’s work. This was the year I wrote the appreciation below.

Two years later she was elected to the Australian Academy of Science. Complementing her academic leadership, Millis also served on the Board of Management of the Fairfield Infectious Diseases Hospital and the Australian Water Advisory Resources Committee, among others. 

She died at the age of 90 in Epworth hospital, Richmond, on 29 November 2012. Her name lives on in a number of awards celebrating research excellence and women’s leadership in science.

From Concepts, Golden Key International Honour Society, 2004, page 86. A PDF can be provided on request.

A ‘new’ photo of an Australian Beersheba hero?

In an earlier post, I wrote about Captain Norman Rae MC, a hero of Beersheba and my ‘Sunday School Captain’.

The Australian War Memorial (AWM) London site has a page on the Battle of Beersheba. The charge of the 4th Australian Light Horse at Beersheba late in the afternoon of 31 October 1917, was the world's last great cavalry charge. 

In the slide show at that site, I found a picture which I thought would be a wonderful illustration for the story of Captain Rae. 

The caption reads ‘A large group of Turkish prisoners, being led by an Australia soldier of the Light Horse on horseback'. 

Captain Rae probably did the same thing; he’d captured some 60 Turkish troops himself and I guess that meant he then had to look after them.

Although the picture is unclear as I looked at it the general shape of the face and the build of the soldier, it reminded me of Captain Rae.  

The AWM advised that “It is far too hard to say if the person is Norman Gordon [Rae]. We have no documentation to say anything about the people in the image.” That’s fair enough but after looking at several pictures of the event I haven’t come across anyone else who looks more like the person leading the prisoners than Captain Rae.

There is the earlier picture in my previous post and this one in which he is clearly identified as the fellow seated in the centre. 

What do you think?

The charge itself

It may be impossible to recreate the feeling of the charge itself but two attempts have been made. 

The patriotic film Forty Thousand Horsemen directed in 1940 by Charles Chauvel, helped build the Australian film industry and is most famous in its day for the recreation of the charge. 

Later the 70^th anniversary of the charge in 1987 was marked in another Australian film The Lighthorsemen directed by Simon Wincer. The characters in the film were based on real people. You can see its recreation of the charge on YouTube.