Political experts often point to federalism as a check on the power of any one party in U.S. democracy; state government, they argue, more directly affects citizens’ lives and thus balances out one-party dominance at the national level.

But as explains in his new book, , the issues and interests that have driven national party agendas, such as immigration and the strengthening or curbing of voting rights, have infiltrated the state level, as well. An assistant professor of political science at the UW, Grumbach outlines the ways party politics and interest groups, especially in the past two decades, have essentially set state party agendas and inspired state-level candidates.

It is this policy shift to states, he says in the book, that “does not simply change the location of political battles. It fundamentally changes the terrain of American politics, providing new advantages to groups who have the informational capacity to monitor politicians at lower levels of government and groups that can move political and economic resources across borders.”

Grumbach analyzed the years 2000-2018 — even before the most recent developments on the national scene — to come up with what he calls the State Democracy Index, or “a measure of democratic health in the 50 states.” Using statistical modeling, Grumbach based the measure on 61 indicators of democracy, such as voter registration rules, how and where ballots are cast, and inequality as it pertains to voting and gerrymandering.

“The State Democracy Index shows that states are diverging: Some states have expanded access to voting and made their district maps more balanced, while other states have seen serious democratic backsliding,” Grumbach said. “The differences between high-performing states like Washington and lower-performing states like North Carolina and Wisconsin aren’t as big as the difference was during Jim Crow [a period of legalized segregation], but the differences are meaningful. The quality of democracy in the states determines whose voice is heard in our political system — and the policies that shape our lives.”

In the book, Grumbach maintains that while other research has ranked states on specific measures, such as educational outcomes or business climate, little has been conducted on the role of state governments in preserving democracy. He has made the State Democracy Index available on his , potentially for use by students, researchers and journalists – anyone interested in monitoring democratic backsliding.

“As the Supreme Court shifts abortion rights and other policies to the state level —including, potentially, new authorities over federal elections — the quality of democracy in the states will become even more consequential,” Grumbach said.

Laboratories against Democracy is published by Princeton University Press.

For more information, contact Grumbach at grumbach@uw.edu.

Racism, eugenics in early gay rights movement

In , published in May 2022 by University of Toronto Press, associate history professor shows how sexologist Magnus Hirschfield laid the groundwork for modern gay rights. But while Hirschfield is considered one of the founders of gay rights politics, he also borrowed from racist, imperial and eugenic ideas, including anti-Black racism.

“It’s hard to do justice to the power of this book,” said reviewer , professor of feminist studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara. “Let me just say that once you open it, you’ll have trouble tearing yourself away.”

The book retells how, in 1931, Hirschfield met and fell in love with medical student Li Shiu Tong. Li became Hirschfield’s assistant for a lecture tour, the first of its scale where a renowned expert defended homosexuality.

In following the pair’s travels through the American, Dutch and British empires and into exile in Adolf Hitler’s Europe, Marhoefer provides a detailed picture of queer lives in the 1930s.

Research from Marhoefer, the Jon Bridgman Endowed Professor of History, found that Li was also a sexologist and activist whose views better align with current times. In his later years, Li started to write a book about his own theory of sexuality. Marhoefer tracked down the only known copy in Berlin. The book serves as a double biography of Hirschfield and Li.

“’Racism and the Making of Gay Rights’ decentres Magnus Hirschfeld, long revered as a ‘founding father’ of gay liberation, by revealing the racist and imperialist investments behind his overfocus on white, cisgendered men, a still-too-common feature of queer representation,” said reviewer , professor of history at George Washington University.

“Crucially, Laurie Marhoefer introduces the possibility of a better, queerer liberation in the thought of Hirschfeld’s Chinese research assistant and perhaps lover, Li Shiu Tong. This is queer history for a better future.”

For more information, contact Marhoefer at marl@uw.edu.

The evolution — and flourishing — of Filipinx American studies

A new volume edited and introduced by , professor of American ethnic studies, explores how Filipinx American studies, established decades ago, is pursuing new directions.

The 34-essay volume, , is framed as both a critique-of-study and a project to move the field forward. Co-edited by Antonio Tiongson, Jr., of Syracuse University, the book is published by Fordham University Press.

In their introduction, Bonus and Tiongson lay the foundation of Filipinx American studies in historical experience — violence and colonization first by Spain, then the United States — that manifested in racism and labor extraction. They write: “But despite their persistent characterization as an unassimilable racial problem or as ill-disposed troublemakers, and notwithstanding their status as colonial subjects who were not eligible for citizenship, Filipinxs proactively and creatively devised ways to resist, recover, and remember.”

Bonus and Tiongson describe how Filipinx American studies evolved as an interdiscipline, both in alliance with other groups, communities and fields, and in contrast to more “U.S.-centric, and therefore narrow and limiting modes of analysis” often found in more conventional American and ethnic studies.

“It’s been an ongoing tradition in our field,” Bonus said. “We’ve always considered how our identities are related to others, how we cross national and ethnic boundaries when it comes to forming communities, and how certain rules of belonging do not apply to us. As a consequence, other race- and ethnic-based fields of study have admired and emulated us, as we continue to question and exemplify the powers of both solidarity and resistance.”

The book aims to move scholarship forward, from historic ideas of immigration, settlement and assimilation to the ways imperialism, globalization and racialization exist today. The editors argue for reorienting the understanding of what it means to be Filipinx American, so that the U.S. is not the only defining factor. Among the essays are those that examine Filipinx American studies and student identities in higher education; gender and sexuality; and the various forms of labor.

For more information, contact rbonus@uw.edu.

How revolution transformed Russia’s Jewish community

is the first book from��, assistant professor in the Jackson School of International Studies and the Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures.

Recently published by Harvard University Press, the book uses post-revolutionary Russian and Yiddish literary, cinematic and journalistic sources to examine how the Jewish community of the former czarist empire was transformed by the Russian Revolution of 1917 and during the first two decades of Bolshevik rule.

The requirement that most Jews live in what had been Russia’s western borderlands — known as the Pale of Settlement — was abolished in 1917.

With this new opportunity, many Jewish communities moved to larger cities or headed to Europe, America, Palestine or the new Jewish Autonomous Region in the Far East, a Soviet experiment that since has dwindled. It was developed as a home for Jewish people in the Soviet Union, but there was no mass migration to the area. Today, most of the settlers in the region are ethnic Russians.

“Besides colleagues and fellow scholars, I am grateful to the students in my course on the Soviet Jewish Experience, which I’ve now offered three times at the UW,” said Senderovich, who is also a faculty affiliate at the Stroum Center for Jewish Studies. “Discussing with them some of the materials, about which I ended up writing in my book, greatly enriched my thinking.”

For more information, contact Senderovich at senderov@uw.edu.

The book tells of Pacific Islander students and their allies as they “struggle to transform a university they believed did not value their presence” despite campus promotion of diversity and student success programs. Bonus interviewed dozens of students he taught and advised at the UW between 2004 and 2018 about their experiences.

“(T)hese students did not often find their education to be meaningful, leading some to leave the university. As these students note, they weren’t failing school, school was failing them.”

Bonus shows how the students used the ocean as a metaphor “to foster community and to transform the university into a space that valued meaningfulness, respect, and critical thinking.”

Reviewing the book, Pedro Noguera of the University of California Los Angeles said: “Bonus has provided us with important insights into what it might take to transform colleges and universities so that those who have been historically underserved can thrive in higher education. For educators and others who seek to ensure that access to academia is available to marginalized and disadvantaged students, this book will be an eye-opener.”

To learn more, contact Bonus at rbonus@uw.edu.

The book, published in 2019 by ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý press, is a study of the life and work of the architect who designed Seattle’s , among many other structures.

UW Notebook is late in catching up with Sprague for a talk about the book, which The New York Times noted in a November story about books that “.”��

What drew you to study and write about the career of Jack Christiansen?��

Tyler Sprague: Jack was an incredibly creative, Northwest structural engineer, and someone who blurred the lines between architecture and engineering in his work.�� He designed primarily in concrete — a typically rather heavy material — but used it in extremely light and expressive ways.�� This makes many of his designs, like , look simply impossible.

And Jack played an essential role in shaping the built environment of Seattle, from the 1950s through the 2000s.�� Encompassing time of incredible change (from the post-war boom, to the Seattle World’s Fair, the Boeing Bust, and the rise of tech), Jack designed over 100 buildings — schools, office buildings, warehouses, stadiums, homes — each suited to their time and place.

A controversial project from the start, the Kingdome went through extreme economic and political hardship during its design, and yet, because of Jack’s tenacity and design creativity became not only a reality, but also the largest, free-standing concrete dome in the world. This was a monumental achievement of structural engineering and construction, and provided a single, multipurpose venue that brought the Seahawks, the Mariners and other professional sports to Seattle.�� Because of the Kingdome, Seattle was never the same.��

What is thin-shelled concrete construction, and what are its perceived benefits?����

T.S.: The way Jack attained this impossible lightness in his work was by designing structures not with flat beams and vertical columns, but by using curved surfaces to create “shells.” When you do this, and shape the shell correctly, the structure resists loads through membrane-like, or shell behavior (rather than through bending behavior in beams), and you need far less material to do it.�� One needs to only think of the strength of an egg shell, and how strong it is when you try to squeeze it in your hand, compared to how thin the egg shell is.

By designing with shells, typically concrete shells, he was able to achieve incredible levels of material efficiency in his structures — for long-span roofs (like airplane hangars and auditoria).�� The careful shaping of these shells became part of his creative expression.

So in your view, what brought the demise of the Kingdome — which Christiansen had planned to last a thousand years?

T.S.: When it was demolished [in 2000], the Kingdome had no structural deficiencies whatsoever.�� It did not have luxury boxes, nor an inside environment based around a single sport or event layout.�� As professional baseball and football became bigger and bigger businesses, team owners demanded new facilities to bring in more revenue, at the tax payer’s expense. One writer stated: “It wasn’t that the Kingdome had nothing left to offer Seattle, it was that Seattle no longer had anything to offer the Kingdome.”��

With the Kingdome gone, where can people see other work by Christiansen?��

Right here at the UW, Jack designed the two pedestrian bridges that connect the campus to the Montlake parking lot.�� While you may not notice them initially, the bridges span nearly 80 feet over the traffic, and 30 feet on either side, and yet are only 8 inches thick at the midspan.�� If you compare this to how big the older, nearby bridge is (going to the Hec Edmundson Pavilion), you will get a sense of the material efficiency in Jack’s work. They are pretty impressive.

Also, the Pacific Science Center at the Seattle Center. Jack was the engineer with architect Minoru Yamasaki. You can hardly believe that the overhead arches are made of concrete! The Green Lake Pool [called the ] was an early work of his too. A simple barrel vault.

What seems the future for thin-shelled concrete construction?

T.S.: Thin shells are making a comeback! The technique was quite popular through the 1970s, but fell out of favor by the 1980s for a few reasons — material and labor markets shifted, aesthetic tastes changed. But, as a building technique, they still offer one of the most materially efficient ways to enclose space. Current work is exploring shells of different materials (like thin tiles, or wood), and using shells to lower the carbon footprint of construction today.����

To learn more, contact Sprague at tyler2@uw.edu.

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Rick Bonus documents Pacific Islander students building community against odds at the UW

In his new book, , UW associate professor of American Ethnic Studies, discusses how Pacific Islander students at the UW used the ocean as a metaphor to create community for themselves and change their university. “” was published by Duke University Press in February.

The book tells of Pacific Islander students and their allies as they “struggle to transform a university they believed did not value their presence” despite campus promotion of diversity and student success programs. Bonus interviewed dozens of students he taught and advised at the UW between 2004 and 2018 about their experiences.

“(T)hese students did not often find their education to be meaningful, leading some to leave the university. As these students note, they weren’t failing school, school was failing them.”

Bonus shows how the students used the ocean as a metaphor “to foster community and to transform the university into a space that valued meaningfulness, respect, and critical thinking.”

To learn more, contact Bonus at rbonus@uw.edu.

***

Jackson School’s Yong-Chool Ha edits volume on colonial rule in Korea

, professor of Korean social science in the UW’s Jackson School of International Studies has edited a new volume in ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý Press’ Center for Korea Studies Publications . , professor and director of the center, is the series editor.

“” was published last October.

Recent discussions of Korea’s colonial period have focused mainly on exploitation or development that was domestic in nature, with international aspects relatively neglected, publishers notes state. But the colonization of Korea by Japan also changed Japan, and has had long-term geopolitical consequences.

The essays in this volume, edited by Ha, “show the broad influence of Japanese colonialism not simply on the Korean peninsula, but on how the world understood Japan and how Japan understood the world.”

To learn more, contact Ha at yongha5@uw.edu or Sorensen at sangok@uw.edu.

Nearly 20 years ago, members of a UW student, faculty and staff organization called Voyagers noticed something missing.

The group, for Pacific Islander students and their allies, found little of their heritage or culture reflected in courses and activities, and scant evidence of efforts to grow their numbers of students and faculty. They mobilized for recognition, and over time, as other groups were involved, there were achievements to celebrate: an affiliation with the Ethnic Cultural Center, the event in April.

Now, after lobbying by faculty and students, there is an academic victory: a newly minor in , beginning in spring quarter. The 25-credit, interdisciplinary program is housed in the Department of American Indian Studies and includes classes from the departments of American Ethnic Studies, Anthropology and English, and the School of Marine and Environmental Affairs.

The goal is to offer students a “transformative academic experience” in a coherent, organized curriculum that opens new lines of inquiry into the histories and cultures of a vast yet community-oriented region.

“The new minor is exciting for us. It allows the university to join hands with the Pacific Islander community in Washington state by educating about Oceanic knowledge. It also creates visibility for a population that often feels invisible in the larger institution,” said , who helped push for the new program as a lecturer in the Department of Anthropology and curator of Oceanic and Asian Culture at the Burke Museum.

The minor, one of nine new UW minors over the past three years, is believed to be the only such program outside the University of Hawaii. City College of San Francisco offers a 17-credit certificate in Critical Pacific Islands Studies, while the University of Utah is currently developing a Pacific Islander Studies initiative.

Here at the UW, the name includes “Oceania” – the geographic region that includes Guam, the Marshall Islands and Polynesia, and a nod to the link between the vast ocean and the islands. Housing the program in American Indian Studies reflects that department’s own thinking about identity, said AIS advisor Kai Wise.

“A lot of courses study First Nations in Canada, and indigenous peoples in Mexico and Central America. This minor supports the idea that we’re a broader department looking at indigenous studies, not just in the United States,” Wise said.

The minor includes a five-credit practicum, designed to give students experience working with the populations they’re studying. Students who pursue this minor, like other majors in its home and related departments, often go into community service or organizing work as a career, Wise said.

That’s how Raeleen Camacho, a UW junior, plans to use the minor. A native of Guam, she wants to become a public health nurse and return to work there.

“It will help me help people in my community,” she said. “These classes give me an understanding of how each island is different, with different traditions, languages and cultures.”

Countering stereotypes, embracing identity

Washington has the of Pacific Islanders in the nation, but the general public is often unaware of issues facing the community, said Taylor Ahana-Jamile, independent learning program manager for UW Study Abroad and a UW alum. What’s more, he said, young Pacific Islanders sometimes have little understanding of their own identities, due to the legacy of colonization.

“You have young Pacific Islanders who cannot speak their ancestors’ language, do not know their history and then are unfamiliar with their mother and father’s cultures. But it is not the Samoan American parents’ fault that their children do not know their language. It is not the people of��Micronesia’s responsibility to teach their children about the��devastating history of atomic bomb testings. It is the colonizers’,” said Ahana-Jamile, who as an undergraduate was president of the . “With the minor we can focus on such issues, and we can start to teach our children who they are and where they come from.”

At the UW, Pacific Islander students say they sometimes have felt stereotyped, or generalized as “Asian,” said Kat Punzalan, director of the . The minor can help educate non-Pacific Islanders as well, she said.

“Visibility is one of the biggest challenges that impacts the Pacific Islander community on campus, and people simply don’t have much of an understanding of who we are,” Punzalan said. Pacific Islanders excel in a variety of activities, pursue majors in assorted disciplines and contribute through research, the Office of Minority Affairs and Diversity’s student ambassador programs and cultural events, she pointed out. “We are celebrating the minor today, but the next step is a major!”

To the people involved in establishing the new minor, the recognition is similar to that achieved by African-American students in the 1960s, when protests led to the establishment of the, or when later efforts resulted in the creation of departments in American Indian and ethnic studies. All were the work of students who wanted to see their culture, history and identity reflected in the staffing, teaching and outreach of the university.

Classes related to Pacific Islander history and culture have been offered for some time, but organizers of the minor such as , an associate professor of American Ethnic Studies, saw the program as a way to more formally institutionalize the curriculum and validate it as a field of study at the UW.

“Instead of thinking only faculty and staff are the sources of knowledge, the minor is a gift from the students to the UW community,” he said. “The more we can enable a university environment that recognizes and values what students bring into the classroom, the better. The Pacific Islander students who advocated with us wanted to be co-learners and co-producers of knowledge. They wanted their cultures and histories to be part of our academic community: That’s what being an Islander is all about. In true Pacific Islander spirit, this is a collective.”

Helen Enguerra, an admissions counselor in the Office of Minority Affairs and Diversity, remembers coming to the UW several years ago as a freshman, eager to find community. Born and raised in American Samoa until she was a teenager, Enguerra said she wasn’t used to the individual nature of the college student experience.

“For me, going to school wasn’t just for myself, it was for my family. I was used to having people support me, and here, it felt like you do everything on your own.”

But Enguerra took some anthropology classes, joined the Polynesian Student Alliance, and began to see community in new places.

“I learned that study groups can be a community. It’s about the��Pacific Islander value of reciprocity, how you help one another,” she said.

Today, Pacific Islanders make up about , and reaching out to prospective students is part of Enguerra’s job. Having a designated minor, with so many courses reflecting the interests and learning styles of Pacific Islander students, can help with retention and recruitment, she said.

Community is part of that learning style, added Barker, who works with a group of Pacific Islander students from the UW each week at the Burke Museum. She formed the group, known as , nearly five years ago as a way to help Pacific Islander students feel connected through artifacts, study and friendship. Her anthropology classes features students and people from the community as instructors, as with her special topic during winter quarter, Oceanic Research Methods: The Culture of the Canoe.

“There is an Oceanic sense of community building that, when we bring it into the classroom, it is a powerful thing,” she said.

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For more information on the Oceania and Pacific Islander Studies minor, contact Wise at kaiwise@uw.edu.