A blast from the past describes my experience inventorying the Maria Pappas Papers at the Women and Leadership Archives. Although, a blast from a much more recent past than you may picture when you think of a historical archive. This inventory experience was like a journey back to my childhood. Inventorying the materials in an archival collection does not only mean combing through centuries old photos and letters. Sometimes it means cataloguing VHS tapes and CDs, which was my experience inventorying the audiovisual (AV) materials in the Maria Pappas Papers.

Inventorying AV was different from my experiences inventorying other collections, which were mainly made up of written documents, correspondence, books, and photos. When I look through this material I am able to learn a bit about the people and stories in the collection. Inventorying the AV portion of the Maria Pappas Collection was a different experience, as I could only learn as I inventoried through the titles of CDs, audiocassettes, VHS tapes, and more unique AV material I have never seen before, like U-matic videocassettes and 1” open reel audio. To learn more about the contents of the materials I would have to play them, and archivists often avoid playing AV to help preserve them. You never know when playing a VHS tape if that is the last time it will play. This was the primary reason I was inventorying the AV materials, so we could digitize many of these items, making them more accessible. Fortunately, I was able to find out more about Maria Pappas through delving into her print documents in our collection.

Maria Pappas was born in Warwood, West Virginia on June 7, 1949, to first generation Greek American parents. She is a lawyer and received many degrees, including a doctorate in Counseling and Psychology at Loyola University Chicago in 1976. She gained an interest in public service when she began working at the Altgeld Gardens public housing project in Chicago and ran a youth drug prevention program called the One Day One Drug Abuse Center. Testifying in court cases involving young people included visiting prisons and jails, an experience which led her to go to law school and consider public service. She ran for Cook County Commissioner in 1991 and was elected, then in 1998 ran for Cook County Treasurer and won. She made the Treasurer’s Office more efficient and technologically updated and was reelected five times in 2002, 2006, 2010, 2014, and 2019.  

As a researcher I would love to learn more about Maria Pappas’ career through watching her audiovisual materials. One that particularly caught my eye when I was inventorying was a VHS tape titled “Treasurer Maria Pappas and her dog Koukla NBC”. Immediately I was intrigued. Why was Maria Pappas’ dog on NBC? I had to find more information about Koukla.

I was able to find some photos of Koukla in our collection which were super cute.

I was not able to find the video of Koukla and Maria Pappas on NBC online, so to find more information I turned to Google and found a Roll Call article discussing the 2008 Illinois Senate Race when Maria Pappas ran for Illinois State Senator and lost to Barack Obama.

The article states, “Pappas’ official biography notes that she plays the piano and is known for twirling a baton in area parades and competing in triathlons. She also carries a toy poodle, Koukla, in her purse” (Whittington). The article then goes on to quote David Axelrod, a media consultant to Barack Obama who said of Maria Pappas, “She twirls her baton and tours with her dog. But people like her. I don’t think people should underestimate her”. (Whittington). Relatedly, another VHS tape I inventoried was titled “Pappas Baton Twirling at Columbus Day Parade, Senate Candidate (1)”. This would be another great tape to view once it is digitized and see Pappas’ baton twirling in action. Finding more information about Koukla, and learning that Pappas would carry him in her purse, makes me excited to have this and other AV material digitized. Once these VHS tapes are digitized it will be much easier to send the video to researchers who request it. In the future these videos can be added to Preservica, and by searching the Women and Leadership Archives digital collection anyone can see Maria Pappas twirling her baton. We no longer need to lug out old technology, like the 1990s TV with a VHS player I watched The Lion King on as a kid, to see the adorable Koukla on video.

Sources 

Whittington, Lauren. “Populist Pappas”. Roll Call, 9 September 2003. 

https://rollcall.com/2003/09/09/populist-pappas/

“About Maria”. Maria Pappas, Committee to Elect Maria Pappas, 2022. 

https://www.mariapappas.net/about

Max is a graduate assistant at the Women and Leadership Archives and a student in the History Master’s program at Loyola. For more information about this post, contact wlarchives@luc.edu.

The Women and Leadership Archives hold the papers of Sheli Lulkin, a long-time organizer in Chicago’s northern neighborhoods. Lulkin moved to the Edgewater neighborhood in the late 1970s to pursue a doctorate in political science from Loyola University Chicago. She completed her coursework, but before finishing her dissertation she began community engagement within her condominium and around pressing issues in Edgewater. The first issue that she dedicated major time and effort to was the potential sale of land in Rosehill Cemetery.  

In the Ravenswood neighborhood of Chicago is historic Rosehill Cemetery, located about a mile and a half southwest of Loyola. Rosehill was first established in 1859 as Chicago officials moved burials outside of city limits. Initial formal cemeteries in Chicago, established in the 1830s, were within city limits, but concerns with health and sanitation worsened by flooding and improper drainage ended municipal burials by the end of the Civil War. Bodies buried in modern-day Lincoln Park were moved to Rosehill Cemetery in the then-village of Lakeview. Chicago’s northern border grew over time to encapsulate the land, and today Rosehill is the largest cemetery in the city. It is also one of the oldest cemeteries in the city; early burial records no longer exist as they were stored in a Loop office and destroyed during the Great Chicago Fire. Those who did have to reinter their loved ones in Rosehill in the 1860s were anxious about further disturbances. These worries were soothed by the language of the cemetery’s charter, which asserted that the land was dedicated exclusively for burials in perpetuity. 

Dialogue was first published in 1972 to give Mundelein College* students a voice to discuss their concerns in a public forum. The first publication lists “the communication of ideas” as Dialogue’s “most important function.” The staff kept folders for submissions in multiple locations so members of the community could raise their concerns anonymously.  

One of the very first issues raised was that of the dorm “parietals,” in Mundelein’s case, the rules regarding men visitors to women’s dorms. Many of Coffey Hall’s residents felt that the current regulations were unfair and outdated. Incoming freshmen felt that “they should be permitted to entertain friends in their ‘homes’, and to deny this right is unfair, a violation of personal rights.” Students bemoaned the fact that they were legal adults who were allowed to vote but not allowed to have male friends over.  

The third issue of Dialogue announced that the issue of parietals was going to be brought before the college senate by the “parietals committee” composed of concerned students who had, the week before, polled and interviewed dorm residents to get their opinions and discuss parietal hours. The committee urged students to show up to the meeting and share their thoughts.  

The next issue fails to mention parietals, which might seem like it is suggesting a failure to implement any changes. However, in the final issue of the 1971-72 school year, Dialogue released a revised outline of the parietals policy as follows:  

1) Coffey Hall – non-visitation areas: floor 1 and west wing on floor 2 

2) Coffey Hall – visitation hours for weekends only on floors 3, 4, and middle and east wing on 2. 

3) Northland – visitation seven days a week 

This wasn’t a free-for-all. Even when visitation was allowed seven days a week there were still hours to abide by. 

Coffey Hall: Friday 6pm-1:30am, Saturday 12pm-1:30am, Sunday 12pm-10pm 

Northland: Monday-Thursday 4pm-11:30pm, Friday and Saturday 12pm-1:30am, Sunday 12pm-11:30pm

Residents were responsible for monitoring their guest. As these rules list, “Males on the floors must always be in company of a resident,” and “She must ask him to leave if his conduct disturbs the other residents.” Residents’ penalties for their guests overstaying their welcome included a two-week suspension of visiting privileges and, if repeated often, would require an appearance before the Hall Judiciary Board. 

Residents could be suspended from the dorm for: 

a) guest’s illegal entry; b) failure to sign a guest out; c) having male guests in non-visitation room or area 

These rules were polished and put in place in October 1972. Dialogue staff interviewed Mary Lou Stege, Director of Residence, who was pleased with the new parietals. She said that she’d “rather see girls bringing their guys into the relatively safe atmosphere of a dorm [than] have them walking around Chicago streets at night.” Once the novelty of male visitors decreased, the pace slowed considerably. In addition, there was a noted noise level decrease in the dorms. As the writer said, “Mary Lou attributes this quieting effect to the fact that ‘the residents are not as prone to rowdiness in the halls with guys around.’” 

Mundelein’s parietal rules continued to be mentioned in later issues, such as this article from 1973 discussing Coffey Hall’s tenth anniversary.  

* Mundelein College, founded and operated by the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM), provided education to women from 1930 until 1991, when it affiliated with Loyola University Chicago.

_{Sources: Mundelein Now, Mundelein College Paper Records: Digitized files mc_now_0006, mc_now_0014, mc_now_0018, mc_now_0025.}

Brooke is a first-year student in the Public History MA at Loyola University. She has a BA in History from Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her research interests include medical history and women’s history. Her non-history hobbies include quilting, hiking, reading, and her pet snails.

“Place” is an important concept to everyone. Yes, it is true that home is where the heart is, but it is undeniable that physical location also means a great deal to individuals. In a society of constant progression, loss of physical and emotional spaces is something many can identify with, including myself. In recent years, the number of private schools and colleges closing or affiliating with one another has sadly grown to become a frequent trend. Common reasons for this outcome include both low enrollment and lack of resources and funding, which may sound familiar to most. Mundelein College* confronted this challenge in the spring of 1991 when their affiliation with Loyola University Chicago was announced. The shock brought forward every emotion possible and sparked an immediate response from the community. The Mundelein Scholar, a student-run newspaper, captured the reactions of students and faculty in real time and forever preserved their efforts to save the last private women’s college in Illinois. 

Anyone who has been in this situation can recall the halo of energy cast over the entire community following an announcement that will alter the fate of their beloved school. The Scholar dedicated an entire issue to stories on the affiliation, providing us with a glimpse of how these students felt in the weeks leading up to April 23, 1991. Labeled as a “take over by Loyola” by students at the time, protests were organized along Sheridan Road and sit-ins held on the steps of administration offices. Supported by staff and faculty, students used the skills they had acquired at Mundelein to voice their concerns as board members deliberated on the future of the school. Action took the form of speak-out rallies, letter writing, and telephone campaigns to alumnae to show that the student body is real and not an abstract idea written on a piece of paper.  

One quote from student Meg Ivo read, “We had one last chance to grow together as a group and it gave us solidarity”, which many students seemed to identify with. Some students took the lead and fought with all their might. Others reacted differently to the situation and did not want to partake in some of the student-led efforts. Some felt shame as they thought they had let down their community and supporters, including the school’s namesake, Cardinal Mundelein. What makes Mundelein’s fight so unique and admirable is how students responded to each other in this sense. The publication acknowledged that the affiliation brought forward many strong feelings and reassured students to process this change in any way they felt natural. It was understood that reactions were neither black and white nor strictly conservative or radical, but a blend of sadness, anger, contentment, and confusion. Despite the upsetting news, students still celebrated with one another at the Fifty Days party, an annual event for graduating classes, and used it as an opportunity to connect as students one last time. It’s quite commendable that students amid such uncertainty could see so clearly that any reaction was acceptable and treated each other so carefully with compassion. Clearly, Mundelein succeeded in their mission to guide these strong and educated women who embraced the challenge before them with grace and understanding. 

While reading this publication, I found myself identifying with every emotion and being able to relate closely to the situation. I have witnessed my suburban grade school, St. Cyprian, and high school, Guerin College Prep, formerly Holy Cross High School and St. Mother Theodore Guerin High School, follow the same path as Mundelein College. While the grade school still stands abandoned, my high school met the wrecking ball, completely erasing the physical memory of the school. The memories that resurfaced from my experience were not negative or bitter, but rather I was reminded of the strong communities who came together to grieve and support one another in this change. I am just one of the thousands of people who can relate to Mundelein’s story and found peace in solidarity. Passionate communities such as these extend over physical boundaries and through time. When I arrived as a freshman at Loyola, I had no knowledge of the affiliation but through my years on campus, Mundelein’s history found me. I believe it has been an important element of understanding my place on this campus, just as Mundelein students once did. As a young woman studying and working in the same buildings that they did for six decades, I understand that I am not alone here. The brave students of Mundelein did in fact save their school, perhaps just not in the way they had originally anticipated. 

* Mundelein College, founded and operated by the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM), provided education to women from 1930 until 1991, when it affiliated with Loyola University Chicago.

Sam is a student in Loyola University Chicago’s Public History Graduate Program. She graduated with a BA in History in 2022, with minors in Anthropology and Art History. She volunteers at The Village of River Grove’s historical house and is in the process of creating a village archive. When not exploring local histories, she enjoys spending time with family, friends, and her two dogs, Khali and Lola.