The Modern Age: Turn-of-the-Century American Culture and the Invention of Adolescence

The Modern Age

Turn-of-the-Century American Culture and the Invention of Adolescence

Kent Baxter

THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS

Tuscaloosa

Copyright © 2008

The University of Alabama Press

Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487-0380

All rights reserved

Manufactured in the United States of America

Typeface: Caslon

The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences- Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

ISBN 978-0-8173-5698-9 (pbk: alk. paper)

A previous edition of this book has been catalogued by the Library of Congress.

Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data

Baxter, Kent.

    The modern age : turn- of- the- century American culture and the invention of adolescence / Kent Baxter.

          p. cm.

    Includes bibliographical references and index.

    ISBN 978-0-8173-1626-6 (cloth : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0-8173-8074-8 (electronic) 1.Adolescence—United States—History—19th century. 2. Adolescence—United States—History—20th century. 3. Teenagers—United States—History—19th century. 4. Teenagers—United States—History—20th century. 5. Teenagers—United States—Societies and clubs—History—19th century. 6. Teenagers—United States—Societies and clubs—History—20th century. 7. Alger, Horatio, 1832–1899—Fictional works. 8. Stratemeyer, Edward, 1862-1930—Fictional works. I. Title.

    HQ796. B3434 2008

    305.2350973—dc22

2008010013

For Angela and Graeme

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

1. New Kids on the Block: School Reform, the Juvenile Court, and Demographic Change at the Turn of the Century

2. G. Stanley Hall, Margaret Mead, and the Invention of Adolescence

3. Every Vigorous Race: Age and Indian Reform Movements

4. Playing Indian: The Rise and Fall of the Woodcraft Youth Movements

5. Teen Reading at the Turn of the Century (Part I): Horatio Alger

6. Teen Reading at the Turn of the Century (Part II): Edward Stratemeyer

Notes

Selected Bibliography

Index

Acknowledgments

Completing this book would never have been possible without the support and encouragement of Jim Kincaid, whose brilliant insights into age categories and enthusiasm about this topic have both inspired and enlightened my work in innumerable ways. Joseph Boone has been an incredible mentor over the years; his thoughtful and patient guidance has helped me grow as both a writer and a scholar. Peggy Kamuf contributed greatly to this project in its early stages and, as a teacher, introduced me to ideas that continue to resonate in much of my work.

I have the privilege of working with some wonderful colleagues in children's and young adult literature at California State University, Northridge—Charles Hatfield, Dorothy Clark, and Jackie Stallcup—whose knowledge and creativity always extend my learning and challenge my ideas in new and interesting ways. Joseph Thomas has also been a great colleague and offered a good deal of intellectual and moral support with the research and publishing process. Scott Andrews generously provided assistance with my research on Indian boarding schools. Carol Nackenoff shared her extensive knowledge of Horatio Alger with me, providing suggestions for my analysis and advice on editions. Kimberly Embleton kindly helped out with the research of some of the more obscure texts. And my good friend Kevin Volkan gave some invaluable advice on the publishing process.

Special thanks to the staff members at The University of Alabama Press, who have been incredibly responsive and professional in bringing this book to print.

Part of the work for this project was completed under the auspices of a Research, Scholarship, and Creative Activity award and a College of Humanities Faculty Fellowship award at California State University, North-ridge. I would like to thank my department chair, George Uba, for his support.

A portion of chapter 4 was published as an article entitled Taming Little Savages: Adolescent Crime and the Woodcraft Indian Movement, American Studies Journal, 47 (Summer 2001); and a portion of chapter 6 was published as an article entitled Desire and the Literary Machine: Capitalism, Male Sexuality, and Stratemeyer Series Books for Boys, Men and Masculinities 3, no. 2 (2000). I am grateful to these publications for allowing me permission to reprint.

Most important, I would like to thank my family and friends for their support of this and other scholarly projects, especially my wife, Angela, and son, Graeme, who have given so much to help me realize this dream and to whom this book is lovingly dedicated.

Introduction

What Adolescents Are Really Like

Featured prominently at newsstands across the country and a free gift for renewing subscribers, a special 2005 issue of U.S. News & World Report is devoted to exposing one of the most widespread and sinister cover-ups of contemporary American society. Surprisingly, the scandal has nothing to do with Enron or Iraq's fictitious weapons of mass destruction. Mysteries of the Teen Years: An Essential Guide for Parents features the latest data from statisticians and out-of-the-box insights from psychologists that attest to the fact that there has been something of a misunderstanding about America's teens: it turns out they're not so bad after all. [M]any of the common complaints about generation Y, also known as the ‘millennial' generation, are quite simply wrong, the magazine announces on its inside front cover. Adolescents now are less likely than their parents were to smoke, do hard drugs, get pregnant, commit violent crimes, drop out of school, and drive drunk . . . the current generation is doing well by doing good.¹

Although its enticing cover, catchy headlines, and wide distribution garnered the attention of many readers, it turns out that U.S. News & World Report cannot be fully credited with the scoop on the widespread misunderstanding of the country's least favorite age demographic. Over the past decade, scholars in a variety of disciplines have reached similar conclusions about America's attitude toward its young people. An extensive two-year study completed by the Frame Works Institute and the UCLA Center on Communications and Community in 2001, for example, revealed not only a marked dislike and distrust of teens but also a pronounced discrepancy between this view and all of the current data relating to the age group. A summary of public opinion polls in the study revealed that [o]nly 16% of Americans say that ‘young people under the age of 30 share most of their moral and ethical values,' putting teens only slightly above homosexuals, welfare recipients, and rich people. Furthermore, when a 1989 Gallup Poll asked 1,249 adults to compare contemporary youth to those twenty years ago, topping the list were the words Selfish (81 percent), Materialistic (79 percent), and Reckless (73 percent). These descriptors and the other data cited in the study are diametrically opposed to how teens actually view themselves. A survey of 1,015 high school students cited in the study found that the values teens hold most dear are being honest (8.6 on a 10-point scale), working hard (8.4), being a good student (7.9), and giving time to helping others (7.6). Furthermore, 75 percent of teens surveyed said that they felt happy most of the time. But perhaps even more striking than this discrepancy was the study's findings regarding the persistency of adult misconceptions. When six different focus groups from three separate cities were given a news story that outlined positive trends for teens, an overwhelming majority of the adults rejected it as false. I questioned almost the whole story, one father vehemently asserted.²

In his 1999 book Framing Youth, Mike Males meticulously exposes the falsity of negative myths about contemporary teens. From mistaken reports of excessive violence to hysteria about rising pregnancy and substance abuse, Males demonstrates that data has consistently been disfigured by government agencies, interest groups, and the media to perpetuate fear about the next generation. Consistently, as studies continue to reflect more positively on teens, unfavorable stories persist with increased vigor. Whether the issue is violence, crime, suicide and self destruction, drugs, smoking, drinking, risk, or attitude, the sequence is the same, Males concludes. Teenagers are universally denigrated when, in reality, they are behaving well amid severe stresses.³

Indeed, there is no shortage of data indicating that American society relentlessly clings to negative misconceptions of adolescents. But even though the veil has begun to be lifted from this misunderstanding, very little has yet been proffered to explain why such myths exist. If there are consistently negative beliefs about teens being recirculated in American society, whom do they benefit and why does our culture sustain them? I believe the answers to these questions lie in the earliest constructions of the developmental stage of adolescence, the precursor to the contemporary teen.

The Modern Age: Turn-of-the-Century American Culture and the Invention of Adolescence examines both theoretical and fictional discourses that circulate around the developmental stage of adolescence in order to argue that the common construction of the impulsive, conflicted, and rebellious adolescent found its origin and most vigorous articulation in America at the turn of the twentieth century and was inspired by broader cultural anxieties that characterized American society at that time. Adolescence, as a concept, came into being because it fulfilled specific cultural needs. This invention of adolescence was largely motivated by the need to define a new and quickly expanding segment of the population, but also, it became a vehicle for expressing many concerns associated with the movement into a new era. Adolescence is a modern age not only because it was a result of changes in American society that are synonymous with modernity, but also because, at the turn of the century, this new age category came to represent all that was threatening about modern life. Such an examination of how adolescence was constructed at the beginning of the century illuminates the current status of the concept and exposes how much our current problem owes to our recent past. We cannot understand the nature of contemporary misconceptions of teens or treat realistically today's misunderstood adolescents until we begin to unravel the cultural history of this stage of development itself.

The Century of Adolescence

The notion that adolescence is a twentieth-century invention is supported by the fact that the term had little currency before 1900 and made a sudden and pronounced appearance in a wide variety of discourses at the century's beginning. Chapter 1 provides an examination of the appearance of this unique developmental stage in the second half of nineteenth-century American society. In his hallmark study of the evolution of the child and the family, Centuries of Childhood: A Social History of Family Life, Philippe Ariès argues that there was little distinction between adolescents and children in European society before 1900. A similar case might be made about American society. Increasing urbanization and industrialization in late nineteenth-century America had many long-lasting effects on the population, and in particular, those individuals in their teens. New jobs in the cities, for example, led to a significant restructuring of the education system because the new economy preferred workers with high school and college degrees. As rural labor traditions disintegrated, enrollment in high schools doubled in the 1890s, and in that same period, there was a 38.4 percent increase in college enrollment.⁴ From the very beginning, the new demographic created by these changes was viewed as a growing problem. Indeed, the majority of references to individuals in their teens in the newspapers and popular literature at the turn of the century describe not how more of them were going to school, but how more of them were committing crime. Articles on wayward youth, hoodlums, street girls, and gangs pepper the many books about urban life that were published at the end of the nineteenth century. This hysteria over juvenile delinquency gave rise to the first official juvenile court in Illinois in 1899. By 1917 juvenile court legislation had been passed in all but three states, and by 1932 there were over six hundred independent juvenile courts throughout the United States.

The development of the public high school and the juvenile court system are material effects of a new space opening between childhood and adulthood, and these changes made teens a more conspicuous presence in American society. But also, such rehabilitative measures were predicated upon largely negative assumptions about this new demographic. These attitudes were articulated and justified in the earliest full-length theoretical treatments of what would become popularly known as adolescence: G. Stanley Hall's two-volume work, Adolescence: Its Psychology and Its Relations to Physiology, Anthropology, Sociology, Sex, Crime, Religion, and Education, published in 1904, and Margaret Mead's three studies of adolescence in primitive cultures: Coming of Age in Samoa (1928), Growing Up in New Guinea (1931), and Sex and Temperament in Three Primitive Societies (1935). In chapter 2, I delineate what exactly these authors meant by the term adolescence and discuss how their invention functioned in a broader theoretical and cultural context. Attempting to reinstitute biology as the base of psychology, Hall envisioned adolescence as a tension between the recapitulation of primitive qualities inherited from ancestors and the possibility of inheriting new, higher human traits. In direct reaction to Hall, Mead's observation of primitive cultures led her to the conclusion that adolescence was largely a socially constructed conflict created by the intense demands Western society placed upon those in their teen years. Although they provide diametrically opposed approaches to the problem of adolescence, Hall and Mead were both responding to a cultural need to define a (seemingly) new and growing segment of population, a new theory of human development spawned by the works of Sigmund Freud, and a host of other anxieties related to the movement into the modern world. Hall and Mead were also united in the rehabilitative nature of their work, which claimed to provide objective observations of adolescents, but really outlined methods to deal with members of this demographic if they got out of control. As such, their works gave rise to some markedly negative connotations that are still with us today.

The extremely evocative yet quite evasive notion of the storm and stress of adolescence, perpetuated by Hall and Mead, was an immensely popular way of depicting this age group, and the anxiety of what might happen if this tempest got out of control was shared by many Americans. Although Hall and Mead put a name to this fear, the invention of adolescence was a process that involved many changes in American society, all occurring roughly around the turn of the century. New initiatives, new social movements, and new mythologies built the foundation for an understanding of adolescence that would remain in public consciousness for more than a century. Although the rise of racialized educational establishments such as Indian boarding schools is rarely mentioned in the same context as the changes in American education at the turn of the century that made teens more conspicuous, these two movements had a great deal in common, and the texts surrounding uniquely American establishments such as the Carlisle Indian Industrial School can tell us a great deal about the late nineteenth-century American culture that inspired the invention of adolescence. Beginning with the founding of Carlisle in 1879, a remarkable number of educational institutions appeared on the American landscape with the intent of moving Native Americans away from their tribal homes and mainstreaming them for success in civilized society. Chapter 3 examines these schools, arguing that their policies were often predicated upon a social evolutionary approach to age that aligned the Native American youth with the adolescent in their propensity for delinquency but also in their potential for assimilation, if directed down the right path. Such rehabilitative programs were far from seamless or successful, however. Autobiographical accounts of this imposed adolescence—such as the 1891 book Stiya: A Carlisle Indian Girl at Home and Zitkala-Ša's autobiographical essays—reveal the many problems such assimilationist programs created. The crisis of identity described by these authors was symbolic of fundamental tensions and anxieties in American society itself and the way this society conceived the movement from adolescence to adulthood.

Amazingly, at the same time attempts to obliterate Native American culture through assimilationist programs such as Indian boarding schools were most prevalent, the image and (mostly fabricated) mythology of the Red Man were reaching their height of popularity as part of a miracle treatment for the troubled years of adolescence in the form of youth movements. Organizations such as the Woodcraft Indians and the Camp Fire Girls reached their peak of popularity at the turn of the century. How could American society sustain two such differing views of Native American culture as was reflected in the romanticizing taking place in youth movements and the demonizing taking place in Indian reform? In his history of the image of the Indian in American society, Philip Deloria explains this seemingly paradoxical attitude in terms of a broader cultural crisis brought on by modernity: [By the twentieth century] the noble savage—still offering cultural criticism and justifying imperial conquest—could be found most comfortably residing inside American national boundaries, he argues. The absorbed Indians wearing white man's clothes represented the ambivalent success of American imperialism. Becoming one with the empire, they justified the noble rhetoric of the white man's burden, which bespoke concern for converted savages. At the same time, however, some twentieth-century critics used the same figures to illustrate the new savagery of the modern. Coded as drinking, tramping, and laziness, Americanized Indians were powerful examples of the corrosive evil of modern society.⁵ I would add to this list of corrosive evil the impending threat of juvenile delinquency and add to Deloria's adroit analysis that the space in which this conflict between interior and exterior was played out was adolescence. Turn-of-the-century youth movements and attempts to assimilate American Indians both fed off of fears of juvenile crime and used a social evolutionary understanding of age to justify a space where both Indians and youth playing Indian could be transformed into upstanding adults. This space, for all intents and purposes, is adolescence. Chapter 4 examines how this space was institutionalized in the Woodcraft Indian youth movement—the American precursor to the Boy Scouts—and its sister movement, the Camp Fire Girls. Hall's notions of recapitulation and the storm and stress of adolescence would serve as a theoretical justification for something that the founders of these movements already knew: which was that if left to their own devices, adolescents would regress to their primitive ancestry, with wicked acts of juvenile delinquency surely following. The notion of getting boys and girls out of the stifling environment of the modern city and into nature reflects a broader cultural anxiety over the urbanization and industrialization of American society at the end of the nineteenth century. The need to let adolescents develop naturally—which, ironically, involved an endless series of organized games and lists for memorization—fit seamlessly with Hall's notions of storm and stress. These commonplace beliefs about the developmental stage construct adolescence as a significant threat unless the energies and desires associated with it are correctly funneled into a productive, and morally acceptable, activity. Additionally, as with the work of Hall, the literature surrounding these youth movements became a way to both articulate and contain anxieties over modern sexuality.

Attempts to contain and control this new demographic went far beyond boarding schools and youth movements, however. Chapters 5 and 6 examine teen reading at the turn of the century, focusing specifically on two of the most popular writers of the juvenile: Horatio Alger and Edward Stratemeyer. Immensely prolific writers, both Alger and Stratemeyer have come to be seen as the first to capitalize on the growing teen reading market at the turn of the century. As such, they have been both celebrated and denigrated as literary producers rather than authors. Such a characterization, I argue, reveals a great deal about the status of juvenile literature and teens themselves at the turn of the century and provides an interesting approach to the work of both authors, who present the problem of adolescence in terms of value—both economic and moral. Alger's most popular series, Ragged Dick, was literally an attempt to reform homeless street Arabs, who were commonly thought to be overtaking the streets of New York, but on a broader level, the series was a tool to rehabilitate the implied reader, who was asked to emulate Alger's model hero. Alger took a popular worldview that combined evolutionary theory, economics, and morality and turned it into a fictional universe, which provided a way to control and contain the seeming threat of adolescence. In Alger, storm and stress is translated into capital, which is the ultimate indication of moral evolution.

Taking literary production to a new level, Edward Stratemeyer founded his own Literary Syndicate, which consisted of ghostwriters who would flesh out his outlines into two-hundred-page hardbound books that sold for an affordable fifty cents. As writer/ producer, Stratemeyer is reportedly responsible for over thirteen hundred books, including such classic series as the Bobbsey Twins, the Hardy Boys, the Rover Boys, Tom Swift, and Nancy Drew. Although each series has its distinctive hook, the underlying story-structure is basically the same. Focusing on episodes from the Tom Swift, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, and X Bar X Boys series, chapter 6 concludes that these early twentieth-century series books for adolescents code gender and desire as capitalist production and, at the same time, serve as scripts that reinforce and perpetuate this type of sublimation in their characters and implied readers. In this case, sexual desire is regulated (and masked) less by a centralized morality—as it was with the work of Hall and the youth movements examined above—and more by a capitalist work ethic. In their attempt to manage the storm and stress of adolescence, the Stratemeyer series books reflect a broader relocation of the topography of gender from nature to the theater of capitalist production.

Much more than just a term defined and popularized by G. Stanley Hall and others, adolescence was a cultural invention that involved and influenced many aspects of American society, and its roots can be traced back to at least the middle of the nineteenth century. Furthermore, adolescence, from its inception, was a rehabilitative tool developed as a way to contain an increasingly more conspicuous and troubling teen demographic that represented a host of fears associated with the movement into the modern age. From the middle of the nineteenth century, when changes in American society made teens more conspicuous, the problem of adolescence has been seen as an economic one. So it is perhaps no surprise that the proposed solutions that came in the form of this juvenile literature were economic as well. The anxiety about teens that gave rise to juvenile courts and changes in education was largely an anxiety about unemployed youth on the streets of the cities; it was a problem fueled by urbanization and industrialization that disrupted the traditional social orders of the family and the community. By the time of the Stratemeyer series books, adolescents, I will argue, were largely turned into adults, and the threat was sublimated by a capitalist script that contained them through both production and consumption. Such a sublimation is not seamless, however, and fears and anxieties continue to shape the way we discuss adolescents or teens to this day.

The Wild Child, the Teenager, and Other Siblings

Although adolescence was not part of the popular lexicon until the turn of the century, its roots go back well into the early nineteenth century, most recognizably in popular recapitulation-based notions of childhood. As Kenneth Kidd has so effectively demonstrated, the genre of the bad-boy book, theories of recapitulation that equated childhood with savagery, and the concept of the feral child all influenced the many works on boyology that surfaced at the turn of the century. Works such