Women, A Universe of Truth and the National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C.

The National Museum of American History (NMAH) contains a wonderful variety of aspects of the nation’s story. The building is crowded with three floors of exhibits on science, slaves, how to do laundry before the invention of the washing machine, architecture in the colonial period and much more. The main lobby inside the NMAH is a large cavernous space echoing with the voices and footsteps of thousands of tourists. On this particular day the place was packed as people attempted to escape the summer sun. Needless to say, it was refreshingly cool after the intense 105 degree heat outside. Because I was traveling with two small girls (my 10 year old daughter and her 9 year old niece), I decided to focus on exhibits which were about the contributions of women to the American story. It was a fun, thematic way to approach the museum.

A large telescope graced the entry to the gallery labeled 1 West. Dating to 1865, the telescope was used by America’s first woman astronomer, Maria Mitchell. The telescope was American made, and capable of viewing the sun, stars and planets. Mitchell is well known for her discovery of a comet in 1847, and for having taught at Vassar College from 1865 – 1888. Among other things, she encouraged her female students to escape the bounds of tradition and authority by studying mathematics and science at a time when women really only went to school to learn etiquette and the social graces of man-catching.

Ironically, the book I was reading while in D.C. contained an entire chapter about Maria Mitchell. The book, entitled Away Off Shore: Nantucket Island and Its People, 1602 – 1890 by Nathaniel Philbrick, was one I had picked up while in Gloucester, Massachusetts a couple weeks earlier. To my mind, it was serendipitous that I would encounter this extraordinary woman in two different but compelling ways during my summer travels. According to Philbrick, Maria Mitchell came from a family of “self taught ‘scholars’ on Nantucket” (221). Included in the Mitchell family tree is Benjamin Franklin and Walter Folger, who discovered the “secret to manufacturing spermaceti candles” during the height of the whaling era (222). As a result of these influences, Mitchell “developed into a world-class astronomer” (222). Along with teaching and astronomy, she also served as librarian at the Nantucket Atheneum for almost twenty years. All of this points to a woman who admired the life of the mind over society and appearance. Indeed she was described by her contemporaries as a woman who “had always to be coaxed to go into company” because she was “self-consciously plain, with a dark complexion and deep voice (on an island where the girls were famous for their blond hair and black eyes)” (224). She was well known in Nantucket circles for “dedicat[ing] herself to her science with a single-minded intensity rivaling that of the Nantucket whalemen. As a young woman, virtually all her evenings were spent with her astronomy; if the weather was bad, there were always calculations to perform” (224).  Beyond a doubt, the telescope at the NMAH was one of the instruments Mitchell used to study the heavenlies.

During this time, Mitchell received a visit by Herman Melville. The latter author had recently published Moby-Dick and it is likely he was visiting Nantucket to promote his novel-ode to the whale among the whalemen of the island. Within a year of Melville’s visit, Mitchell complained in her diary about the unfortunate role of women in society: “the needle is the chain of woman, and has fettered her more than the laws of the country. . . I would as soon put a girl alone into a closet to meditate as give her only the society of her needle . . . A woman is expected to know all kinds of woman’s work, and the consequence is that life is passed in learning these only, while the universe of truth beyond remains unentered” (225-226). Perhaps the woman-astronomer was comparing the tethered aspects of her life against the freedom she perceived in Melville’s. Whatever she was thinking, her keen curiosity about the “universe of truth” has managed to place her life’s work on public display nearly two hundred years after she was born.

In 2 West there is an exhibit entitled Within These Walls. Primarily the space featured buildings and the activities of living within their walls. It is an interesting concept for its focus on lives within contained spaces, and the ways in which those lives use space during the course of a day. About half way into the exhibit we encountered an interactive display featuring Catherine Lynch, a washer woman in the 19^th century. Her day was bookmarked by the physical labor of laundry duty. In the evening she would set the clothing to soak in a tub overnight. Early the next morning, that tub of soaking clothes would be scrubbed in lye before being boiled. Of course the water and fuel for these activities had to be brought in to the house which, in itself, is no mean feat. After boiling, the clothes would be rinsed through a wringer and then rinsed again for good measure. One of the interactive features provided a wringer machine so that visitors could try their hand (or muscles) at the process. A computer calculated the force needed to wring excess water out of the clothing. If the visitor did not apply enough muscle to the task, the computer would report it. In short, it was a humbling exercise in 19^th century reality. After the laborious task of rinsing and wringing, the clothing would be starched and hung to dry. The final step, which would take place on the morning of the third day, would be to iron the clothing. Thus a load of laundry would literally comprise three days of labor.

As a result of viewing and interacting with this display, I have a renewed sense of appreciation for the modern convenience known as the washing machine. All hail the washing machine which has freed up the hours of my day, the labor of my hands and the space in my kitchen. 

The 3^rd Floor contained an exhibit entitled American Presidency. Within that space appeared a special display about First Ladies. In particular the exhibit focused on the inaugural gowns worn by various First Ladies over the past one hundred years. Other gowns, perhaps not inaugural but still of historic importance, also found their way into this exhibit. For example, the velvet gown of President Lincoln’s wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, was displayed in a case by itself. Of the inaugural dresses, one could find the elegant ball gown worn by Nancy Reagan, the stodgy dress of Barbara Bush and the trendsetting gown of Jackie Kennedy. Each dress revealed something about the personality of the woman who wore it.

Another dress displayed alone was the most recent inaugural dress to make it into the American narrative: that of Michelle Obama. Dazzling is likely the best term to describe the pale chiffon sheer studded with glimmering silver flowers. Even a non-fashionista like me can declare it is lovely.

An exhibit poster claimed that for two hundred years, First Ladies have been judged by the clothes they wore, the parties they held, the projects they initiated and the roles they embraced. First Ladies also serve as national advocates, trend setters, leaders and role models. I would tend to agree. Laura Bush, a librarian before she became First Lady, was known for her advocacy in literacy. Eleanor Roosevelt, although not fashionable, famously helped usher in the international era through her work on the United Nations charter. And today, Michelle Obama speaks out about caring for military families, the role of healthy eating and reducing food deserts in urban centers. In their position as wives to the Presidents of the United States, each become ambassadors of good will, healthy living and progressive values. Ironically this voice for progress as a means for making their President-spouse look good may be exactly what Maria Mitchell was lamenting in her 1853 diary entry. Could it be that in our obsession with the clothing of the First Ladies we are, each one of us, perpetuating the stereotype that “A woman is expected to know all kinds of woman’s work … while the universe of truth beyond remains unentered”? The point remains that whether it is the needle of Maria Mitchell, the laundry of Catherine Lynch or the gown of Michelle Obama, the value of women’s lives are interwoven with the clothing, fabric and thread of “woman’s work” while the men pursue a “universe of truth” in the realm of politics and power “unentered” by women. It’s a challenging notion to think that (even) in the 21^st century we have not really “come a long way, baby.” After all, as I wandered through this exhibit I noticed that almost exclusively the visitors to this gallery were . . . female.

Works Cited

Philbrick, Nathaniel. Away Off Shore: Nantucket Island and Its People, 1602 – 1890. New York: Penguin, 2011 (reprint).