University of Pittsburgh Library System

Averie’s research began in a previous English Literature Seminar class where she examined the portrayal of women involved in public affairs through the 1852 novel Bleak House by Charles Dickens, with the help of her professor Amy Murray Twyning. In her final paper for the seminar, Averie examined primary sources from nineteenth-century British publications, and their significance to the domestic and public placements of women in societal and familial dynamics. This prior research in fictional representations of women and primary sources sparked an interest in how other publications, specifically those advertised to women, molded ideas concerning the private and public spheres in the nineteenth century. Her ASRA research utilizes a variety of early publications of the popular women's magazine Harper’s Bazar (later changed to Harper’s Bazaar), collected from the Special Collections. Averie’s research was conducted by analyzing seemingly encouraging rhetoric about women’s affairs in public life and digging out the underlying themes and conditions this progress was advertised with. Not only does this research illustrate where women stood in relation to the public sphere, but how they were encouraged to act, look, as well as see the world. Opinion pieces, advertisements, fashion columns, and news all contain rhetoric that can be analyzed in relation to how women were expected to fit into society, which still resonates with gender norms today. The research Averie conducted using the Hillman Archives will assist her in her final semester at the University of Pittsburgh while she utilizes her knowledge to complete a senior thesis.

The Starzl archive is a collection of the correspondence and life’s work of Dr. Thomas E Starzl, the father of modern organ transplantation; this archive provides unique insight into the medical ethics involved in developing experimental kidney and liver transplant protocols beginning in the late 1950s. In the beginning of Dr. Starzl’s transplant practice, ethical oversight committees were in their early stages, so physicians were primarily responsible for ensuring the proper treatment of human subjects in experimental trials. This is distinct from the process research follows today, in which researchers are required to receive direct written approval from the institutional review boards (IRB) before proceeding with their experimental trials. As Starzl developed his protocols for transplant and tested anti-rejection drugs to prevent graft rejection, the IRB developed concurrently. Suddenly in the late 1970s, Dr. Starzl found himself in contention with the IRB, as his notion of tolerable risk differed greatly from the IRB’s conception. In one set of correspondence with the FDA and IRB, Dr. Starzl reveals his propensity to follow his own judgement despite the accepted guidelines to treat patients with no alternative options - his breach in protocol prompted an FDA investigation of his clinical practice.

Specifically, the issue the FDA investigated involved his requests for compassionate use of the experimental anti-rejection drug OKT3 in organs of patients who failed conventional therapies, at high risk for rejection. Although OKT3 later became the first monoclonal antibody approved for human use in 1986, at the time of the correspondence 1984-1986 with IRB and subsequent FDA investigation in 1986, OKT3 was an experimental compound. This case study provides excellent context for a discussion into the degree of autonomy we grant physicians to make ethical decisions in compassionate use cases, and what amount of oversight is necessary to protect patients. Although this case is historical, we may be able to draw many modern parallels between Dr. Starzl’s compassionate use requests and patient groups suffering from diseases with poor prognoses and only experimental drugs options. I plan to write and publish a research paper on the medical ethics involved in compassionate use cases and the IRB oversight of physicians.

In recent history, the concept of death and dying has become an extremely uncomfortable topic of discussion for a majority of the population, however, in the past such discomfort was not nearly as commonplace. Throughout the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, the subject of death was unavoidable, and to the faithful all across Europe, having a proper death described by the rules of the Christian faith was of utmost importance. With everyone hoping to one day go to Heaven, manuscripts such as the Cologne Office of the Dead were created, intended to guide monks and other religious figures in prayer for the deceased and set them on route to their preferred afterlife. Originally created in 1487 and used for services until 1802, the Office of the Dead utilized in this project gives us a glimpse into how death and mortality was viewed by the most faithful of European society. In my research, I examined how focusing on the way in which such a manuscript was created can craft a narrative for modern day scholars to understand that death was by no means a taboo subject in earlier history. Like many manuscripts, the Cologne Office of the Dead is written entirely in Latin, and to combat this challenge, I took to looking at details such as the materials and methods used to create it, as well as the clear evidence of handling as the main focal point of my project. In doing so, I aimed to paint a clearer picture of the importance that death and dying held in early European society, and shed light on a topic that is often avoided in the modern era.

The University of Pittsburgh’s Archive and Special Collections department recently acquired a large collection of Jonas Salk papers, dating from 1943 to 1995. This assortment of personal effects from the creator of the Polio vaccine himself, allowed for the question of “How have vaccines historically been received by the public?” to be explored. This question quickly evolved into a comparative analysis between the reception of the 1955 invention of the Polio vaccine with the more recent invention of the COVID-19 vaccine. By gathering newspaper clippings for the opinions on the Polio vaccine, and Twitter data for the opinions on the COVD-19 vaccine, comparative word maps and conclusions were made on the general public's opinion regarding the necessity of vaccines, how vaccines should be produced, and who should be getting them. Though less than 100 years separate these two major medical milestones, the public’s perception of them vary greatly. The Polio portion of this project is accompanied with an ArcGIS StoryMap, where viewers have an accessible and interactive layout of how vaccine trials were held and how the public was reacting to them. The COVID-19 portion consists of datasets from the National Library of Medicine and word maps that express public opinion. Together, the viewpoints on vaccine creation can be better understood.

Theorizing and Liberating Transgender Identities explores the magazines Transvestia and Trans/Transgender Tapestry held within the Archives and Special Collections. These publications were distributed mainly in America through the 1960’s to the 2000’s. Most of the audience of these magazines were mainly middle class or upper middle class. This project focuses on how the Transgender community (earlier referred to as the Gender community) used their platform to simultaneously try to understand their identity and organize to achieve political rights. One major theme this project explores is how the community explored terms to describe themselves and how the term transgender came out of these discussions. It aims to highlight the agency the community made for themselves in their own identity, as prior western attempts to study the community were done from outsiders. Another major theme is noting how the community organized themselves politically, going from effectively hiding to protest marches within five years. It shows the unification of a fractured groups of transgender people, and the very intentional entrance into feminist and LGBT organizations in the 1990’s.

The Frick Fine Arts Library collection holds nine artist books made by the Los Angeles-based artist Ed Ruscha. For her ASRA project, Grace Marston curated a mini exhibition in the Frick Fine Arts Library which investigated how these books correspond to Ruscha’s larger body of work. Although Ruscha has made a name for himself as a painter whose vibrant works explore the power of fonts and language, his books tend to primarily contain black-and-white photographs with minimal amounts of text. However, some of his books do contain word art in the forms of signs, album covers, or bleach-stained linen. To provide additional context for the exhibition, Marston also explored and displayed the contents of Artists & Photographs (1970), an editioned art collection published by Multiples, Inc. Artists & Photographs served as a portable exhibition in a box with contributions by nineteen American and European artists, including Ed Ruscha. Like Ruscha, many of the other artists who participated in the Artists & Photographs project did not primarily identify as fine art photographers, but rather as artists who use photography as an element in their practice. Through her study of Artists & Photographs, Marston discovered how Ruscha’s photobooks fit in with the larger photoconceptualist movement, in which artists rebelled against the established visual conventions of modern art photography. Of course, artist books are meant to be opened and perused, not confined to glass display cases. In order to provide the University of Pittsburgh community with greater access to Ruscha’s books, Marston hosted a pop-up event in which library visitors had the opportunity to handle and look through the books for themselves. At the conclusion of the semester, Marston wrote about her ASRA experience for the Department of History of Art and Architecture's blog, Constellations.

In my research I sought to analyze death, dying, and funerary culture in Victorian children’s literature. I focused specifically on “The Death of Cock Robin”, a short story written in verses about a robin who is shot and killed by a sparrow and the funeral held by his community that follows. I looked at over two dozen versions of the story ranging from some of its earliest iterations in Tommy Thumb’s Pretty Songbook from the mid 1700s to modern versions from the late 1900s. While researching the story of Cock Robin, I also researched death and funeral culture in the Victorian era and noted how the story used those elements and how it has evolved to reflect the changes in death culture since then. Each community member in the story plays a part in the funeral, such as the rook being the parson, thus teaching children about the different roles and their importance. Death was extremely common during the late 19th century, and children were exposed to it early and often. Stories such as “The Death of Cock Robin” introduced them to death and funerals in an approachable way and integrated it into their daily lives. My deliverable focuses on how funerary roles are presented in “The Death of Cock Robin” as well as how the imagery changes as the story evolves and the possible origins for the story. While doing my research I have become increasingly familiar with chapbooks, which are stories that are printed on one piece of paper and folded into a small book. Many versions of “The Death of Cock Robin” that I have looked at during my research have been printed as chapbooks, and I plan on making my own chapbook version of the story next year as part of my senior thesis. I will utilize what I have learned while doing my ASRA project as well as the printing resources we have in the library to make my own chapbook version of “The Death of Cock Robin” that reflects modern day funerary values.

Originally driven from a simple understanding that this photographic collection viewed through an art historical lens could provide deeper insight into the early 20th century Black experience in Pittsburgh, in time my research project has developed into a more focused examination of how the relationship between people and space in Urban League photographs can help modern viewers understand the active development of Black community. Since its founding at the height of the Great Migration, the Urban League of Pittsburgh has been one of the biggest local civic engagement powers for African Americans, eventually playing a role in literally transforming the city’s landscape to make room for Black life. Throughout its history, the Urban League has focused on issues such as housing, employment, education, and healthcare to advance the social conditions of Black Americans in a rapidly changing but nonetheless still racially oppressive nation. Looking at media from the first World War through the mainstream Civil Rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s, Urban League photographs tell complex stories about Black Pittsburghers’ desires for equal opportunity, dignity, and belonging mapped onto a region that can be both unrecognizable and familiar. The main outcome of this project is an online exhibit that contextualizes a selection of the collection’s hundreds of photos in localized history, but also provides visitors the opportunity to explore for themselves the narratives that emerge visually in both spontaneous snapshots and purposeful documentation. In curating this website, I hope to provide people with a glimpse into the collection’s photographs beyond what is currently publicly available and spark curiosity for future inquiries into the Urban League collection. Furthermore, I will create a list of additional resources for anyone interested in this line of research themselves and write a blog post about my experiences this semester.

This project offers a comparative analysis of Pittsburgh’s queer communities and social life in the 1970s, the 1990s, and the twenty-first century. Along with communities around the country, queer individuals in Pittsburgh faced a variety of implicit and explicit discrimination, fed by the conservative turn towards a more hetero- and cis-normative culture after the Second World War. In response to direct systemic violence and social isolation, queer people began to create their own community spaces where they could turn for resources, support, and mutual aid. Using queer periodicals, event records, and personal accounts, I craft a narrative of these people and places to highlight how they enabled survival, love, and joy in the face of persecution. By drawing on resources created by and for queer audiences, my work transcends narratives of queer tragedy and trauma to consider how queerness can provide a space of community, vibrancy, and love. I also use my research to reconsider my own experiences of queer community in Pittsburgh in 2024. This has led me to reflect on the disappearance of the physical spaces that I read about and the seeming dissolution of the community itself. I have found that modern representations of queerness have been sanitized to conform and assimilate to narratives from dominant powers. Thus, my research also confronts modern definitions of “pride” and emphasizes the value of anticapitalism and queer liberation in creating a strong, healthy, and supportive community. I intend to use my findings to reflect on local queer histories and to create space for community in the present by creating a virtual space for creating and collecting contemporary records of queer communities. Queer archival materials are scarce and I hope that my work can make future research about queer communities easier. I also hope to establish a community across archives in Pittsburgh, as my research incorporates multiple sites, including the Heinz History Center and Carnegie Mellon University.