Biography Essay projects-- presenting research in creative formats!
AP U.S. History, Susan Richman
AP US History Biography Essays
One of the favorite assignments of many of my AP US History students each year is the creative-format Biography Projects, one for each semester.This is a major assignment, and one where students learn an immense amount about their chosen person and their place in history. At least one of these Bio Essays needs to be in some sort of website or multi-media format. Students are invited to look over past Bio Essay projects (available for view right on our password-protected class website) to get ideas for the many options possible (and students can also earn Bonus Points whenever they read through one-- they often get very inspired, and learn so much). Approaching history through biography is a very useful and engaging way to see how a person had an impact on society-- and how the 'times' impacted that person. Students also gain more of a sense of *change over time* by seeing the full spectrum of transformation over the course of their 'Bio Person's' life.
And do notice that phrase: creative format.... this means the bio should *not* sound like a Wikipedia article! In part, this is my 'hedge' again student plagiarism and 'copy-and-paste' approaches (and yes, even very nice homeschool students can fall into that trap at times-- it's happened...). Instead students need to come up with some creative or unusual way to present their information-- and I'm sharing here three very different approaches so that prospective APUSH students and families can see the range of possibilities, as well as the amazingly high quality of these projects. Below is a written Bio Essay in a '1st person story' format on the 19th century education reformer Prudence Crandall, written by 2013 APUSH'er Lauren Kam. And here is a link to the website on the 'Forgotten Founding Father' John Jay, created by 2012 APUSH'er Rachael Lee. And finally here is a link to an amazing original video production on newspaper editor Joseph Pulitzer, done in a very engaging 'time travel' news show format, by 2013 APUSH'er Angel Wolf. And there are literally hundreds of top quality projects up on our course website-- and I so value the idea that new students can learn from the exemplary work of their APUSH predecessors. Here is a listing of possible 'creative formats' previous students have found engaging:
- an imagined diary or blog by your person (or by someone who *knew* your person...)
- a series of funeral orations sharing about different aspects of your person's life
- imagined newspaper articles about your person (maybe flaming editorials, if your person was controversial!)
- time-travel stories where you go back and meet your person
- a 'radio show' or 'debate' others have about your person
- a 'game show' where your person is the 'topic' (some great back Bio Essays using this idea-- including one where I am a contestant on 'Jeopardy'!)
- a puppet show (we have one on Cotton Mather.... in YouTube)
- a YouTube dramatic re-inactment of your person's life
- a short play... (we have many-- I've often wished we could produce one at our annual AP Party at our farm in Western PA!)
Enjoy this 'showcase' from APUSH-- and know, too, that many students find that they can use the understandings gained from their Biography Essay projects in other settings. Say, Angel Wolf let me know that she was able to use the life of Pulitzer as part of a recent impromptu speech at a tournament, and another top student just earned a 1st place award at a speech competition by giving part of her Bio Essay on Andrew Carnegie as a 'Biography Narrative' presentation.
****And now.... here is Lauren Kam's Biography Essay on Prudence Crandall****
A Temporary Defeat
“I’ve always wanted to be a school teacher and teach other little black children, but I haven’t had a good education. Last time I went to visit Mariah, she told me that that lady she works for, Miss Crandall, she runs a school for girls. And she got to help with the housekeeping there. I wish I could go to Miss Crandall’s school.” I thought as I walked down the road. It was the year 1832, and I was on my way to visit my friend, Mariah Davis. Lately, I had been thinking about asking Miss Crandall if I could go to her school. I’d been working up my courage to ask for weeks, but she probably wouldn’t be home today. Likely, she’d be at her school teaching. I stopped in front of the large white house where Mariah worked, walked around to the back, and knocked.
“Sarah!” The back door flew open, and there was Mariah. “I was hoping you’d come by today. Miss Crandall’s not teaching right now so you can ask her if you can go to her school.”
“Mariah, I don’t know…”
“Sarah, this is your chance. Ask. Miss Crandall’s real awful nice anyways. She let’s me sit in on her class session.” Mariah pulled Sarah in. “I’m so glad you came today. I was just a-hopin’ and hopin’ you’d come. Have a seat, but watch the floor. I’m mopping it.”
I sat down at the kitchen table, careful not to step where Mariah had just carefully cleaned. Should I ask? Did I dare? I took a deep breath.
“Mariah, I’d like to speak with Miss Crandall if she don’t mind.”
“Of course!” Mariah got up. “I’ll go tell her right now.” Mariah disappeared through the door. Moments later, she appeared. “Miss Crandall says yes. Come on, I’ll take you to the parlor.”
I followed Mariah through the door. Together, they walked down the hallway until Mariah stopped at a door. She tapped it and opened it. “Miss Crandall? My friend, Sarah, is here to speak with you.”
I walked in. “Hello Miss Crandall. I’m Sarah Harris, I’m a friend of Mariah.”
Miss Crandall smiled. “Hello, Sarah. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. But…Miss Crandall, I want to get a little more learning, enough…to teach colored children. If you will admit me to your school, I shall forever be under the greatest obligation to you.”
I then continued on to explain that I didn’t want to board at her school. I’d be satisfied to walk to school from my father’s farm every day. I just really wanted a chance to study.
“And so, Miss Crandall, I know this is a big request. I know other parents might object to having a black student in the class. But if you have to refuse because of that, I understand. I don’t want to be the means of injuring you or the school.”
All this time, I watched her steady blue eyes as I talked. When I finished, she sat there for a while. Finally, she told me she’d have to think about it. I nodded, trying not to show any disappointment, thanked her, and left.
“Sarah! What did Miss Crandall say?” demanded Mariah as I walked back to the kitchen.
“She said she’ll have to think about it. I don’t think she’ll let me join but I want to go so much. I need to be getting home. It’s late, and it’s almost time for supper.” I said good bye to Mariah and walked home, wondering if I had asked too much.
A few weeks later, I went to visit Mariah again. Mariah chattered on and on about the latest thing that had happened her, but I sat there, deaf to Mariah’s words while I twisted my dress nervously and thought about what Miss Crandall’s answer would be. Suddenly, some of Mariah’s words caught my ear.
“…and I was tellin’ Miss Crandall-”
“What? Mariah, what did you just say?”
“Sarah! Weren’t you listening? I said, Miss Crandall was askin’ me about you, and I told her you belonged to the local church, and your father was a respectable farmer, and-”
“Did she say anything about my attending her school?”
“Oh goodness me, I forgot! Miss Crandall told me yesterday that she wanted to speak with you about that when you came by. I’ll tell her you’re here. Come.” Mariah got up and led me to the parlor.
She tapped on the door then opened it. “Miss Crandall? Sarah’s here.”
I stepped into the parlor, dreading what the answer would be.
“Have a seat, Sarah.” Miss Crandall beckoned towards me. “Sarah, I’ve thought long and hard about this. And I’ve decided…my answer is yes. You’ll join at the beginning of the new year."
I stared at Miss Crandall in astonishment. Then, as tears of joy filled my eyes, I thanked her. Wiping the tears, I ran back to the kitchen and told Mariah the news.
January came, and I proudly walked into Miss Crandall’s school, eager to begin.
“Class,” said Miss Crandall. “We have a new student. This is Sarah Harris. She will be joining us for school. Sarah, you will sit here.” Excitedly I took my seat. As the day progressed, many girls greeted me. I was relieved to see that they didn’t seem to mind having a black girl for a classmate. My dream was finally coming true.
Two weeks later, I went to go visit Mariah again. “Sarah! Have you heard what’s been going on in the town?” she demanded.
“No, Mariah, what?”
“The whole town is talking about you!”
“Many people are upset about your being in the school. The girls at Miss Crandall’s school told their mothers about you, then the mothers told everyone else! They’re horrified to hear that a black girl is sitting in the same classroom with white students! Miss Crandall has had lots of callers all week, the parents are livid. I’ve overheard them. They say it isn’t right, and Miss Crandall should expel you!”
I slumped in my chair, and dropped my head in my arms. “Oh no, this is all because of me! I shouldn’t have asked. I should have known better than to think a black girl could go to school for white girls. Have they been saying anything else?”
“Mrs. White, the wife of the minister, came yesterday. She told Miss Crandall that the townsfolk don’t want their children in a class with a black girl. She says that if Miss Crandall doesn’t expel you, Sarah, the white parents are going to take their daughters out of the school, and the school will ‘sink’. But Miss Crandall’s real brave. She said, ‘The school may sink, but I will not give up Sarah Harris.’”
“Miss Crandall…she still wants me? Even if her school fails?”
“Yes, isn’t she brave? Even the school board is telling Miss Crandall that letting you into her school was a mistake, but she won’t give you up. You know her neighbor, Mr. Judson? He came a few days ago to visit. He’s one of them American Colonization Society people. He don’t like white and black people mixing together. But Miss Crandall told him that she promised to give you an education, and you’re going to get it.”
“Mariah?” Miss Crandall’s voice suddenly interrupted us. “Is Sarah here? I’d like to speak with her again.”
“Yes, Sarah’s here, Miss Crandall. Would you like me to bring her over to the parlor?”
“Please, Mariah. Bring some tea too please.”
Mariah snatched up a tray, filled it with tea things, then walked to the parlor with me trailing behind her.
“Thank you, Mariah. Have a seat, Sarah.” Miss Crandall poured two cups of tea and handed one to me.
Before, I could say anything, Miss Crandall began.
“Sarah, I know you’ve been hearing the town talk about your being in my school. And I want you to know, I don’t mind one bit what they say. I promised you an education, and you’re going to get it. Oh, I’m sure many think I’m a stubborn lady. But I’ve always been. Every since I was a little girl, I’ve been scolded for my disobedience. My own brother said so, calling me a ‘very obstinate girl’. I believe in this cause, and I’m going to go through with this plan.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Miss Crandall…but why do you believe in helping me?”
“Sarah, the Crandalls have always been Quakers. And as Quakers, we believe that everyone is created equal and that black and white people shouldn’t be treated differently.”
I nodded slowly. “But, Miss Crandall, won’t you be getting yourself into a lot of trouble over me? After all, I’m just one student.”
Miss Crandall sipped her tea. “Don’t let it upset you, Sarah. I’ve been thinking…I need someone to help me. Do you know who Mr. William Lloyd Garrison is? He’s an abolitionist and the editor of theLiberator. I think I might write a letter to him for advice.”
The clock chimed, and Miss Crandall looked up. “I have some matters I must attend to now. Please excuse me, Sarah. And don’t let this upset you. My family has a special tendency to get into trouble. A relative of mine, John Crandall, got himself arrested before in a dispute with the Puritans over the proper view of baptism.” She chuckled as she set her teacup on the tray, then rose.
I got up. “Thank you, Miss Crandall,” I managed to say.
“Good day, Sarah.” Miss Crandall left.
Miss Crandall was gone for the rest of January. Mariah said that she had taken a trip to Boston. When she came back, Canterbury was in for a surprise. One cold day in February, as I sat in class with other students, Miss Crandall told us that the classes for white students were about to end. When the spring term started, her school would only accept black students. I was shocked. Surely Miss Crandall would not make all her white students leave so she could accommodate me! But it was true. A week later, an advertisement appeared in the Liberator, announcing the opening of Miss Crandall’s School for Young Ladies and Little Misses of Color.
During my next visit, Mariah informed me that the school board had been here again.
“The school board came to visit yesterday, Sarah. This is the second time they’ve come banging on her door, twice in a week. That Mr. Frost, he was trying to explain to Miss Crandall why she should give up her school for the black girls. But you know what Miss Crandall said? She just cut them all off saying, “Moses had a black wife.”
“And then what did they say?”
Mariah laughed and slapped the table. “They said nothing. They had no answer. Miss Crandall’s so clever, Sarah. With just one remark, she showed them why their arguments about race were wrong.”
As I hurried to town, one brisk afternoon in late March, I met Miss Crandall, who was walking along the road too.
“Good day, Miss Crandall.”
“Good day, Sarah. Where are you going?”
“To town. I was on my way to town to buy some things.”
“Ah, well, I’m going in that direction too. Why don’t we walk there together?”
We walked in silence for a few minutes. Then I asked, “I don’t mean to pry, Miss Crandall, but Mariah mentioned that Mr. Garrison again.”
Miss Crandall nodded. “I visited him while I was in Boston. He was very enthusiastic over my idea to start this school, which is why it’s happening now. I’ve talked to several other men, who also approve. Just yesterday, a Unitarian minister, Mr. Samuel May, came to visit me. He wanted me to know that he also supports my school, in fact, he said he’d be willing to act as my attorney. Canterbury is holding a public meeting tomorrow to discuss my school, but I can’t go because I’m a woman. Mr. May can, however, so he will be representing me. There is also a friend of Mr. Garrison, Mr. Arnold Buffum, who is speaking in Norwich. I called on him today, and he also agreed to be present at the town meeting tomorrow.”
We had reached Miss Crandall’s house in the center of town, but I still had some questions. This sounded like a reasonable plan to me, but what if it didn’t work? I had to know.
“What if the men at the meeting decide you can’t open the school though, Miss Crandall?”
Miss Crandall looked grim. “I’m going to open this school no matter what. I’ve told Mr. May that I’d be willing to move the school to the edge of town if somebody would be willing to buy my present home.” She looked at the sky. “It’s getting late, Sarah, and tomorrow is a big day.”
It was a whole week before Canterbury knew what had happened at the meeting. The Liberator published an account of the events at the town meeting, under the title “Heathenism Outdone!” I knew that Miss Crandall’s representatives must have lost the argument. But on the first Monday in April, Miss Crandall’s school still opened. When I arrived there, I met Miss Crandall’s younger sister, Almira, who had to come to help. To my surprise, and Miss Crandall’s, only one other student came that day. Her name was Eliza Glasko, the daughter of a blacksmith from Griswold, Connecticut.
I didn’t know why no one else had come. But one thing was for sure, the two black students know attending Miss Crandall’s school was upsetting the neighbors. They met and decided to start a boycott. They got most of the shopkeepers in Canterbury to agree not to sell anything to Miss Crandall. They thought that if Miss Crandall had no supplies, her school wouldn’t stay open for long. That was only the start of their protest. Whenever Eliza and I went out with Miss Crandall, the townsfolk shouted angry remarks and threw stones, rotten eggs, chicken heads, and whatever garbage they could find at us.
I could tell Miss Crandall was worried about the boycott. Her father and brother had to haul supplies to the school whenever they could to keep us going. But on April 12, a new pupil arrived, Ann Eliza Hammond, from Providence, Rhode Island. We were delighted to see her and welcomed her. The next evening though, the sheriff came knocking on our door. He told Miss Crandall that Ann Eliza was breaking the law, an old one that said visitors from other states had to get permission from the town authorities to stay in Canterbury. If she did not leave immediately, Miss Crandall would be fined $1.68 each week. This didn’t seem like too much money, but it would all add up. If other out-of-state students came too, Miss Crandall would have to pay all their fines too, which would eventually make her go bankrupt. Much to our relief, several wealthy abolitionists promised Miss Crandall that they would pay up to ten thousand dollars’ worth of fines! This was good news because after Ann Eliza, six new students arrived from New York. Then even more came, from Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. We had enough students to form a real class now.
Even though we were happy and safe inside, the townsfolk still harassed us. If we dared to venture beyond the school gate, rude boys followed us around with their insults. Someone smeared manure all over the school steps, and the doors and windows were soon coated from the constant pelting of rotten eggs. Mr. Judson wrote a petition to the Connecticut legislature and got 903 people to sign it. 903 signatures weren’t that many, but the legislature feared that soon, Connecticut would be overrun by black people. On May 24, 1833, a new law was passed, the Connecticut Black Law, which stated that no one was allowed to start a school for black students who did not live in Connecticut. The fines for offending this law were enormous, and if Miss Crandall didn’t have a solution, our school would soon be ruined.
In June, the town authorities came pounding on our door. They wanted to know if Miss Crandall had black students from outside Connecticut in her class room. A few days later, the sheriff came to arrest Miss Crandall for teaching black students who were not inhabitants of Connecticut. Her trial would be in August, but until then, she had to go to jail or pay a $150 bail. I knew she would choose the prison. Mr. May had come in between the town authorities’ visits, and I had heard them talking. They decided that Miss Crandall should go to jail, just for a little while to attract public notice and show how wicked the new law was. After the sheriff left with Miss Crandall, I slipped out the door and followed them. They were at the magistrate’s house so I peeked in the window. Mr. Judson and his friends were horrified to hear the Miss Crandall was going to prison. They hadn’t intended it to go this far; they thought Miss Crandall would pay the bail. Desperate, they sent a messenger to look for Miss Crandall’s friends. I followed him and saw him knock on Mr. May’s door and tell him the news. Mr. May listened calmly and shook his head, saying no, he wouldn’t pay the bail. Shocked, the messenger ran to tell Mr. Judson what Mr. May had said.
The authorities stalled on until sunset, hoping someone would show up with the bail. No one did. Reluctantly, they handed her to the jailer, and I watched him escort her to a cell. After a day in prison, a wealthy abolitionist paid Miss Crandall’s bail, but nevertheless, her imprisonment was in the news.
“SAVAGE BARBARITY! Miss Crandall Imprisoned!!!” declared the Liberator. Everyone knew about Miss Crandall now. All over the East Coast, people chattered and gossiped about her. Miss Crandall’s trial was still going to be held on August 22. Even with all the attention, we continued school, and still more pupils came. There were now seventeen students. It still was dangerous for us to go outside. One evening, as I was about to go to sleep, I heard a crash below. My roommate and I, followed by some of the other students, dashed down the stairs to see what happened. A large rock had been thrown through the parlor window. Another morning, we woke to find someone had thrown rotten eggs through an open window.
On the morning of Miss Crandall’s trial, her father drove her to the Brooklyn courthouse, accompanied by me, Eliza, and some of the other students to be witnesses. When the time came to examine the witnesses, Mr. Welch first questioned Ann Peterson, a New York student. Right before though, Mr. Ellsworth instructed her not to answer any questions, knowing that Mr. Welch would question her about attending the Crandall school which could lead to him accusing her of breaking the Black Law. Ann obeyed and remained silent. Mr. Welch tried two more out-of-state girls, but still, he got no answers. By the end of the day, Mr. Welch still had no answers.
The trial resumed the following morning, and Mr. Welch tried Eliza Glasko. Like the other girls, she also remained silent. Mr. Welch then talked to the judge, and they agreed that if the witness wouldn’t answer questions, then she would be jailed for ‘contempt of court’. As he handed her over to the bailiff, Mr. Ellsworth spoke up, arguing that Eliza was from Connecticut, therefore, she could not be breaking the law. He then told Eliza she was free to answer Mr. Welch.
I watched breathless as Eliza stood there bravely, and Mr. Welch peppered her with questions. Somehow, he had gathered enough evidence to prove that Miss Crandall had taught black girls that did not live in Connecticut and had broken the law. Mr. Judson concluded Mr. Welch’s case, saying that black people, even free black people, were not American citizens. Mr. Ellsworth rose to make his reply. He pointed out that the law Miss Crandall had disobeyed was not constitutional. The Constitution was above the rest of the laws of the nation, and it said that all U.S. citizens could travel freely between states.
“And black people are U.S. citizens,” continued Mr. Ellsworth. “They were born in America like other citizens. They fought in the Revolutionary War like other citizens. Nothing in the Constitution says that black people are not American citizens, therefore, that law is wrong, and Prudence is not guilty.”
Eliza poked me and whispered excitedly. “Sarah, did you hear that? Miss Crandall is saved!”
“Yes, Eliza, but the jury must agree too. If not, then Miss Crandall could still go to jail!”
We waited for the jury to make their decision. Hours later, they finally announced that they had not reached a verdict. The jury had split in their decision, and the case wasn’t over. Another trial for Miss Crandall was scheduled in December.
Dejected, we returned to the school house. What would happen next? When we walked in the door, the other students crowded around us, demanding to know what had happened. Some of them followed me to my room.
“Sarah! What happened? Is everything okay? Is Miss Crandall going to jail?”
I shook my head. “That jury couldn’t decide. There’s going to be another trial, in December.” I sat there thinking. It had been almost a year since I had asked Miss Crandall to attend her school. If only I hadn’t asked, none of this would have happened.
The next afternoon, I stepped into the kitchen and saw Mariah, who was still working as Miss Crandall’s housekeeper. She seemed quite distraught.
“Sarah, look at this.” She handed me a bucket full of brown mud. I sniffed, and quickly set down the pail.
“Eww, Mariah, what is this?”
“I just went to go get water from the well. Somebody’s come and dumped dung in there. The well’s ruined, we’ll have to get water from somewhere else.”
We found Miss Crandall talking to some of her other students, Henrietta, Theodosia, and Catherine, and told her the news. She shook her head. “One of our neighbors has a well near the road that he lets travelers use. Mariah, would you please ask him if he’ll let us use his well?”
“Yes, Miss Crandall.” Mariah left. Half an hour later, she was back. “Miss Crandall, he said no. We can’t have one drop. He says all the neighbors have agreed not to let us use their wells. Now what will we do?”
Miss Crandall sighed. “I’ll have to talk to my father and ask him to bring some water to us then.”
“Miss Crandall,” Catherine spoke up. “How can you not be upset with all these bad things happening to us?”
“Yes,” said Theodosia. “Why aren’t you mad at the townspeople for doing this?”
“Girls, the people of Canterbury do not realize that God created everyone equal, black and white people are no different. I do not want you to indulge in angry feelings towards your enemies. The Bible says to love your enemies, do not return evil with evil. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Miss Crandall.”
The next week, Ann Eliza became ill. Miss Crandall sent for the doctor, Andrew Harris, who lived across the street. He came grudgingly and checked Ann Eliza. As he left, though, he said, “You need not send for me again. I shall not come if you do.”
Mr. Judson was also up to trouble. One day, I saw him talking to the sheriff from my window. The next day, the sheriff came knocking on our door and tried to arrest Miss Crandall yet again. Fortunately, her friends decided to pay the bail before they could place her in prison again. Then we received word that Miss Crandall’s trial had now been moved to October 3, 1833, only six days away.
I attended the Miss Crandall’s trial. It seemed to be a repeat of what had happened earlier. The arguments were the same, but this time, the jury pronounced Miss Crandall guilty. Miss Crandall’s lawyers were not going to accept that though. Before the judge could announce her sentence, they filed the case with the Supreme Court of Errors, the highest court in Connecticut. Cases with this court took a long time so it meant Miss Crandall and our school were safe for now.
At the end of November, Sarah Harris and her friend, Mariah Davis, were both married in a double wedding. After the ceremony, Sarah and her husband, George Fayerweather moved to Rhode Island, while Mariah and her husband, Charles Harris, remained in Canterbury where Mariah continued to serve as Miss Crandall’s housekeeper. On January 28, 1834, while Miss Crandall was teaching, someone set the school on fire. All the girls and Miss Crandall were unharmed, but everyone agreed, someone had done it on purpose. After the fire, Miss Crandall went to discuss the matter with Mr. May. They decided that it was risky, but the school could remain open. After this, life seemed to take a turn for the better for Miss Crandall. In the spring, she became engaged to a Baptist minister, Calvin Philleo. Support was also pouring in for Miss Crandall’s cause, and other schools for black girls were established in Boston and Philadelphia. Finally in July, the Supreme Court of Errors reached her case. The verdict? Not guilty. Unfortunately, the judges had not examined the principal issues in the case. They only cancelled the guilty verdict because of a small mistake in the wording of the original arrest warrant.
Nevertheless, Miss Crandall could move onto the next milestone in her life. In August, she married Calvin Philleo, and settled back into her school routine. Not quite a month later though, on September 9, an angry mob stormed Miss Crandall’s school, breaking windows and smashing furniture. In the morning, Miss Crandall surveyed the wreckage. Her teaching assistant went to fetch Mr. May. Once again, Miss Crandall and Mr. May discussed the problem. They decided that there was only one option: to close the school. All the students were sent home, the house was sold, and Miss Crandall left Canterbury, Connecticut. It had only been two years since Sarah Harris first asked to join the school.
The day Prudence Crandall left Canterbury, she probably thought that her enemies had become the victors. For the rest of her life, she lived in various towns in America, but she never established another school for black students again. However, more than 100 years later, in the early 1950s, attorney Thurgood Marshall used the arguments from Miss Crandall’s lawyer, Mr. Ellsworth, to present his case to the U.S. Supreme Court. The issue was whether or not state laws that separated black and white children in public schools should be repealed. This time, Marshall won. The Supreme Court banned any kind of racial discrimination in America’s public schools.
Alexander, Elizabeth, Marilyn Nelson, and Floyd Cooper. Miss Crandall's School for Young Ladies and Little Misses of Color: Poems. Honesdale, PA: Wordsong, 2007. Print.
Fuller, Edmund. Prudence Crandall: An Incident of Racism in Nineteenth-century Connecticut. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan UP, 1971. Print.
Jurmain, Suzanne. The Forbidden Schoolhouse: The True and Dramatic Story of Prudence Crandall and Her Students. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2005. Print.
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