2025 Scholars
Ethan Choi
Emily Cho-Sayegh
Thea Dunckel
Stella Goss
Diana Kravchenko
Andrew Lee
Jack McCarthy
Sophia Rivera
Symphony Shi
Table of Contents
2: A Note From Dr. Fisher
3: An Interview With Dr. Green
4-5: Library Overviews
6-8: Scholar Spotlights
9-10: Special Activities and Photos
Instructors
Dr. Casey Green & Dr. TM Fisher
Since joining Hotchkiss seven years ago, I have repeatedly heard alumni reminisce about Hotchkiss being the place they really learned to write. The Hersey Scholars Program continues that proud tradition.
Now in its fourth year, the Program supports rising seniors’ research projects at four different archives in Boston: the Boston Public Library, the Massachusetts Historical Society, and Harvard’s Schlesinger and Houghton libraries. This year’s nine Scholars are pursuing projects on topics as varied as the Salem Witch Trials (Stella Goss, BPL), the history of jazz (Andrew Lee, Houghton), the assimilation of Indigenous populations in the Colonial period (Thea Dunckel, MHS), and second-wave feminist health narratives (Sophia Rivera, Schlesinger).
In the fall, these scholars will enroll in an advanced research methods course to learn how to put their archival research in conversation with existing scholarship. Then, in the spring, they will complete the Hersey Seminar, an academic writing workshop designed to teach students the norms and methods of academic writing. Those
methods include how to manage a long-term writing project that can’t be completed in a lastminute sprint, an especially important skill for talented high school students. By the end of the program, they will each produce a twenty-five to thirty page paper that is closer to what one might find in an academic journal than a class essay.
I have worked with the Hersey Scholars summer program since its inception and taught the Hersey Seminar for three of the last four years. I would never claim that the kind of education that the Program supports is the only way to learn to write, but I will claim that there are things that one can only learn by taking on topics that are too complex to process without a community of other scholars and by developing arguments that are too rich to fit within the traditional boundaries of a high school essay. Students learn something new about clarity and organization when they must determine how to manage their reader’s attention over thirty pages, and they learn something new about research and composition when they must develop a thesis substantive enough to make that attention worthwhile.
These Scholars are talented students who already know how to write, but this Program provides them access to archives, training in research, and support in writing that offer an opportunity to reach the next level in their skills. It is my joy as a teacher to help them get there. As I write this at the close of the 2025 Summer Program, I can already see this year’s Scholars are well on their way. I can’t wait to see what they do next.
Finally, I would be remiss if I did not thank the people who have helped the program grow over these last four years: Lisanne Norman, Jeff Blevins, Casey Green, Ashley Aluko, and all the parents, alumni, and supporters of these unique archival programs, thank you.
Until next summer, TM Fisher Director, Hersey Scholars Program
Who is Casey Green?
I’m a history teacher at Louisiana School for Math, Science, and the Arts. I have a PhD in history from the University of Connecticut. My dissertation was on disabled men in 18th century New England. The majority of my research for my dissertation was conducted at Boston archives.
What do you do as an Instructor for the Hersey Summer Program?
I primarily supervise the students’ projects by talking to them about their research, problem solving archival issues, and helping them develop research questions. In addition, as a chaperone I make sure the students have everything they need in Boston.
You’re a historian. What are you researching now?
At MHS, I was examining the papers of William Hickley Prescott, who became blinded when a hard roll hit his eye during a Harvard food fight in 1814. While he
went on to publish many works of history, he struggled to accept himself as a disabled man. I study his identity struggles. One of my favorite archival moments this summer was discovering the Massachusetts Historical Society had Prescott’s noctograph, (pictured below) a device that makes writing parallel lines without sight easier.
What is the most exciting thing about archival research?
Archival research is like a puzzle where you have to find your own puzzle pieces. I love having questions and then finding the documents that answer them.
What is your favorite part about the summer program?
I love hearing about the students’ research and learning about their findings everyday. These students are so enthusiastic about their project, and it is fun to see their excitement grow.
Do you have any advice for students considering programs like Hersey in the future?
While Dr. Fisher and I are here to guide you, this is a self-directed program where you largely work independently. In addition to a passion for history, you must embrace challenges and be able to problem-solve in the archives.
Founded in 1791 by Reverend Jeremy Belknap, the Massachusetts Historical Society (MHS) was established to collect, preserve, and spread resources for the study of American history. Today it is home to an extensive collection of manuscripts, rare books, and artifacts
that document American history from the earliest colonies to the present day. Among the repository’s most renowned holdings are the extensive papers of three presidents: Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and John Quincy Adams. The building itself, located in Boston’s Back Bay, is
a historical artifact in its own right. It is filled with original furniture, portraits, and architecture that date back over a century. Beyond the archival materials, the exhibitions and historical artifacts offer their own trove of information. For example, in the middle of the reference room lies the sword of Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, commander of the first all-Black regiment. The sword was lost in battle and found in the possession of a rebel officer before it was returned to the Shaw family, who donated it to
Houghton Library is Harvard University’s primary repository for rare books and manuscripts. Its history starts in 1938, when, looking to supply Harvard’s most valuable holdings with more space and improved storage conditions, Harvard College Librarian Keyes DeWitt Metcalf made a series of proposals which eventually led to the creation of the library. The largest portion for the funding came from Arthur A. Houghton Jr., an American industrialist who served as the president of Steuben Glass
Works, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the New York Philharmonic. Construction of the library was completed by the fall of 1941, and it opened on February 28, 1942. Houghton has five main curatorial departments: Early Books and Manuscripts; Early Modern Books and Manuscripts, Modern Books and Manuscripts, Printing & Graphic Arts, and the Harvard Theatre Collection. Houghton organizes periodic exhibitions of different holdings open to the public.
MHS in 2017.
Two scholars worked at MHS: Symphony Shi and Thea Dunckel. Shi said, “MHS introduced me to archival research the best way I can imagine. The richness of the archive and the help from all the librarians truly made it unforgettable.”
Three Hersey scholars worked in the Houghton Library: Ethan Choi, Diana Kravchenko, and Andrew Lee. Choi said, “Houghton allowed me to immerse into a true experience of what professors and researchers
do on a daily basis. It was inspiring to witness passion and dedication of researchers around me, which motivated me to approach my own archival research with an even greaterpersistence.”
The Schlesinger Library is located at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard and is the leading center for scholarship on the history of women in the United States. It was originally founded in 1943 as the Women’s Archives and later renamed in honor of Elizabeth Bancroft Schlesinger, a feminist and historian who believed in preserving women’s stories. The library to this day holds thousands of manuscript collections, books, oral histories, photographs, and so much more, including materials from major
figures like Angela Davis, Betty Friedan, and Pauli Murray. From the moment we arrived, the librarians have been so supportive and efficient. They’ve made it so easy for us to request materials, even putting things on hold overnight for us. Everyone from
the staff at the front desk to the people we pass in the lobby greets us with genuine warmth. It’s clear how proud and happy they are to be part of a space like this.
The reading room is peaceful and bright, with long tables, tall windows, and even a few beautiful
The Boston Public Library, founded in 1848, was the first large, free, municipal library in the United States. Originally, the concept was proposed by French ventriloquist M. Nicholas Marie Alexandre Vattemare as a way to exchange books and other printed materials with French libraries. Today, the BPL is the one of the biggest public libraries in the United States, and offers a variety of services to the public, from book lending to notary services. On our first Wednesday in Boston, the Hersey Scholars were given a tour of the library by three of the archivists. The first floor boasts a bright lobby that welcomes patrons with
a cafe, a live radio stage, and colorful book displays. Also on the first floor is the book lending desk, shelves of visual media from DVDs to CDs, and a tech center that not only provides Internet access to all, but includes technology education services and assistance for those unacquainted with it. The second floor’s centerpiece is the mezzanine, surrounded by workspaces, a children’s room, and a teen center that provides a safe, adult-free environment for local adolescents. The second floor is also home to the delivery desk and Washington Room, where our researchers spent most of their time when not
in the archives, working with librarians in each department to acquire secondary sources and examine microfilm. The third floor houses the BPL’s special collections, where Jack and Stella analyzed archives dating from the 17th century to contemporary times. The third floor is also where archivists restore old books, manuscripts, and other materials damaged through time. This allows the BPL to continue to offer access to some of the oldest manuscripts available. The beauty of the BPL expands beyond its offerings and services, however, and is complimented by the beautiful architecture, art
paintings lining the walls. It is such a motivating place to do research. You are surrounded by so many focused researchers and so much preserved history. And outside, Radcliffe Yard is just as beautiful. It is quiet, green, and the perfect place to reflect after a full day of working with these materials. Two scholars worked at Schlesinger, Emily Cho-Sayegh and Sophia Rivera. Rivera said, “Being at Schlesinger has been such an amazing opportunity and it has reminded me of why this kind of research matters.”
galleries, and an outdoor courtyard. Initially an effort to demonstrate culture and superiority to the early United States’ European peers, the murals, carefully chiseled details, and art that paint the walls and ceilings of the BPL remain an important piece of the building and its history today.
The Nuremberg Trials are known for their significance in establishing principles of accountability for the most powerful states and heads of state post-World War II. Though created primarily to bring justice to the victims of the war, the archives I have examined tell a different story and motive: dismantling the ideological system of Nazi Germany.
The José Maria Castañe Collection and The collection of World War II propaganda and ephemera at Harvard’s Houghton Library show first-hand accounts of the first international war crimes tribunal. Using materials such as Allies committee sessions, Nazi ideological decrees, trial
testimonies, and propaganda from the opposing powers, I hope to answer the question: How can legal proceedings effectively dismantle political ideologies?
The importance of propadanda is consistently reiterated in multiple memorandums and Allied Power committee sessions that detail Nazi political ideology and training methods.
A special discovery was a memo from the American legal team preparing a case against the Schutzstaffel (SS). The legal team was discussing searching for evidence and specifications for the type of information received to make a case for the Allied Powers. Clause 7c states that “ordinary training routine training
materials are of no importance,” the legal team should look for evidence of “showing special methods of training in ideology.” Nonetheless, this search for evidence is correlated to their trial argumentation as it wasn’t focused “merely on war crimes but also on the German aggression of war.” Another important find occurred when I reviewed memos from an American legal team with a visible edit on the paper. The
original statement stated that the Schutzstaffel’s actions were “needless and violent actions;” however, the new edit stated “lawless and violent actions.” Therefore, the committee’s true intent was to utilize the trials as a means to dismantle the Nazi political ideology. However, their change from “needless” to “lawless” attests to the necessity for legal terminology to hold up in court.
My research focuses on the second wave feminist movement, with particular attention to Betty Friedan and her role in shaping its direction, especially through her leadership in the National Organization for Women (NOW). As a central figure in the movement, Friedan helped define mainstream feminist goals in the ‘60s and ‘70s, particularly through her book The Feminine Mystique. In it, she challenged the widely accepted notion that women found full satisfaction in domestic life, naming “the problem that has no name” and giving voice to
the dissatisfaction felt by many middle-class American women. The book sparked national conversations about gender roles and is widely credited with launching the second wave of feminism. Building on that momentum, Friedan co-founded NOW in 1966, an organization that sought to secure gender equality through legislative and social reform. However, while Friedan’s work was instrumental in advancing feminist causes, it also exposed key limitations within the movement. Her emphasis on legal and economic equality often sidelined the experiences
of marginalized groups, particularly women of color and LGBTQ+ individuals. Her views on lesbianism, in particular, became a source of internal conflict within NOW, as some members saw her stance as exclusionary and out of step with the movement’s evolving priorities. In the archives, I discovered internal correspondence and meeting notes from various NOW chapters that directly challenged Friedan’s leadership. These documents revealed that her position on lesbian rights was not only controversial but also led some chapters to advocate
for her removal as president. This finding sheds light on the extent of the internal divisions within NOW and underscores how debates over inclusion and representation were central to the development of second wave feminism. Alongside these materials, I am also examining Friedan’s interview notes for The Feminine Mystique and letters from readers who described the book as transformative. Together, these sources offer a fuller picture of how Friedan’s legacy is both foundational and complex, shaping the feminist movement while also revealing its boundaries.
My research at the Massachusetts Historical Society revolves around the cultural assimilation of Native Americans during the Colonial period. Puritan ministers from the Massachusetts Bay Colony worked across New England, spreading the Gospel to tribes such as the Wampanoag and the Narragansett in order to “salvage
the savage soul.” John Eliot, the so called “apostle to the Indians” established towns of “praying Indians” where Native American converts to Christianity lived in self-governing communities that were structured around Puritan religious and social principles. The outbreak of King Philip’s War exposed the fragility of
colonial-Indigenous relations, as many praying towns were dissolved or attacked, and Native converts were met with suspicion and violence from both sides. Eliot’s 1659 treatise, The Christian Commonwealth, reveals his vision of a utopian society for both the praying towns and English settlements centered on the religious doctrine of Christianity. While the Colonial missions permanently changed Indigenous culture, they also had a profound impact on the colonists themselves.
In examining the letters and sermons of ministers like Experience Mayhew, one can see how the Colonial impression of their own identity revolved
heavily around the existence and conversion of the Native Americans they shared the land with. Mayhew’s sermons detail the necessity of missions, warning of the possibility of becoming more and more “savage” as time went on. Furthermore, the work of conversion enhanced the early colonist’s savior complex, reinforcing their belief in their own moral righteousness and justifying the continued act of assimilation. Through this research, I aim to better understand how missionary work and praying towns functioned not only as a tools of conversion but also as a mechanisms of control, shaping both Native and colonial identities.
I am examining the Salem Witch Trials as an example of cult-like behavior derived from religion. The archives I have looked at highlight a divergence between Salem Puritans and the practices of other English Protestants in New England, many of whom opposed the witch trials in Salem. At the time, the term “witches” referred to those who obtained supernatural abilities through communion with the Devil. Through my research, however, I’ve discovered that “witches” were not the only
ones persecuted by the Salem Puritans for blasphemy: Quakers and others who diverged from the ProtestantIndependent tradition were also executed. While looking through the online catalog of the Boston Public Library’s Special Collections, I noticed that many of the items in the Thomas Prince Collection, the same collection that holds many of the documents of the Salem Witch Trials and 17th-century New England Theology resources, came from the Old South Church
of Boston. Conveniently, the church is located directly across the street from the BPL. After stopping by out of curiosity, it soon became clear that the church itself would become an important resource in my work beyond the archives, as both a major dissenting voice in the trials, and the site of Judge Sewall’s formal apology. Together, these materials have exemplified how Salem Puritans moved beyond the bounds of traditional religious devotion, instead embracing a cult-like fanaticism.
I am focusing on the Human Rights Collection at the Houghton Library. Upon starting working with the collection, I encountered 102 unprocessed boxes with notebooks and journals belonging to various Soviet dissidents, correspondence between human rights activists and famous political figures in the US, photos and videotapes, newspapers, and reports of international organizations. A unifying theme across the hundreds of folders was the persistent struggle of individuals to stop the government from
infringing on their human rights. Given my interest in international law, I also wanted to explore the legal frameworks to which human rights advocates turn when making claims. I decided to focus on comparing the methods of advocacy and their effectiveness during implementation of the Helsinki Accords. The Helsinki Accords signed by 35 states in 1975, were designed to reduce tensions between East and West during the Cold War and to improve the status of human rights. By comparing the methods of
While at the Houghton Archives, I’ve looked through documents such as Blanche Calloway’s personal scrapbook from the 1920s, Harvard band director Tom Everett’s letters, and Blue Note contracts of important musicians such as Miles Davis. While looking through these documents, some of them over a century old, I’ve been transported into another world, culture, and aesthetic; I could almost feel the warm correspondence between old musician friendships, the aching struggle of balancing the rigorous musician’s lifestyle with life complications like cancer, and above all, the passion and excitement in practicing and spreading jazz. Eventually, while making my way through
newspapers, correspondences, and pamphlets, I saw the interconnectedness of the jazz industry; musicians worked closely together and
musicians pursued jazz’s institutionalization and education whereas others focused on the artistic journey. Everett led and taught
otherwise shared hobbies and habits. However, in this interconnectedness, there was also one key distinction I observed: some
extensively with Harvard’s jazz students whereas Dave Brubeck (composer of the tune “Take Five”) expanded the frontiers of cool jazz. Houghton’s Tom
human rights advocacy and enforcement, such as the work of human rights monitoring groups, the engagement of the members of the USSR diaspora in the US, and the work of dissidents, I hope to gain a clearer understanding of what methods of enforcements of international agreements are the most effective. In addition to examining archival holdings, I am working to set up interviews with representatives of Ukrainian Helsinki Group in order to incorporate analysis of institutional memory into my research paper.
Everett collection contained a letter in which Brubeck addresses Everett, inquiring after academic conferences for Brubeck’s son, Darius, who studied jazz within the social legacy of Apartheid. Here, Dave Brubeck and Tom Everett represent the two areas of art and academia, and Darius Brubeck demonstrates a fusion of the two. Ultimately, despite these differing roles, these musicians share a common goal: the preservation and development of jazz’s legacy. Within the context of this goal, I am investigating the role of institutions like Harvard in promoting respectability within jazz through a detective cork board of musician names and events.
My research focuses on the development of musical theatre as an individual art form in the early twentieth century. After my acceptance to Hersey, I was assigned to the Boston Public Library as its music collection is one of the institution’s most robust archives. In the weeks leading up to the residential program, I collaborated with the library’s archival music specialist over email. By reviewing pages of card catalog scans and exploring online catalogs, I conducted a comprehensive search of the library’s musical theatre holdings to ensure a productive
research session. When I arrived, the librarians had already pulled my requests, so I could get started immediately. While I knew I wanted to research the evolution of musical theatre, I wasn’t sure what specific direction I would take until I entered the archives. As I pored over scorebooks and old newspaper clippings, I noticed a thread of patriotism across the works. Musicals of the time told stories that followed an underdog on their journey to success, a thematic archetype that parallels the “American Dream.” Behind the scenes, composers like Irving
Berlin and George Gershwin— an immigrant and the child of immigrants, respectively— were lauded by popular media as representations of the success you could achieve by immigrating to the United States. Furthermore, in scrapbooks for musicals like Oklahoma!, Show Boat, and Porgy and Bess, I’ve noticed attention to revenue, with artists carefully crafting shows that will successfully “sell” audiences. These articles illustrate the origins of musical theatre as a capitalist venture, another factor that makes the art uniquely American.
I’ve always been interested in how women’s voices can create real change, whether in politics, medicine, or society as a whole, so I was especially excited to be placed at the Schlesinger Library to explore that through my research. My project looks at how second-wave feminists pushed back against the institutions that had silenced them for so long during a time when women were denied agency over their bodies and excluded from conversations about their own health. At the Schlesinger
Library, I’ve been focusing on the papers of Barbara Seaman, a writer and advocate who worked to expose medical injustice and give women the tools to better understand and control their own healthcare. In the archives, I’ve come across everything from letters women sent her where they opened up about their personal experiences and frustrations, to her own emails, notes, and drafts. Many of the stories women shared with her were very honest, the kind that didn’t have a space in public
conversations at the time. What stands out most is how seriously she took these voices, which is evident in her papers. Her writing shows how committed she was to making medical information transparent and accessible by using research and lived experience to expose the risks women weren’t being told about. She also wrote about abortion laws and reproductive rights, which was a controversial subject at the time. In my project, I want to continue exploring
how storytelling became a powerful form of feminist resistance and how women telling the truth about their lives fueled larger movements around autonomy and health justice. It has been truly amazing getting to work with this material up close. It’s been such a meaningful experience being at Schlesinger, and I’m excited to keep digging deeper into how the voices preserved in these archives still resonate in the ongoing fight for women’s rights today.
Upon entering the Massachusetts Historical Society, I immediately immersed myself in the microfilmcollections containing the correspondence of Caroline Healey Dall, a Unitarian who eventually embraced Transcendentalism. While searching for materials addressing feminism and
suffrage movements within the broader Unitarian community of the early 19th century, I discovered compelling dynamics between Dall and Theodore Parker, a prominent male Unitarian preacher, particularly when their discussions centered on suffrage and women’s roles in Christianity.
This discovery prompted me to refocus my research on examining men’s attitudes toward feminism within the Unitarian Church. I concentrated my investigation on four prominent Unitarian preachers and ministers: Theodore Parker, William Ellery Channing, James Freeman Clarke, and Edward Everett Hale. My primary interest lay in understanding how their liberal theological beliefs influenced their support or opposition to feminism, especially when viewed alongside their positions on other social issues such as abolition.
At the MHS, I worked extensively with nine collections of sermons, correspondence, journals, and diaries. I aim to use these materials to
understand how Unitarian men perceived women and feminism’s place within both the Unitarian Church and the broader liberal Christian movements of the era. My research encompassed not only the collections of the Unitarian men I examined but also those of influential Unitarian women, such as Dall and Catherine Maria Sedgewick, who corresponded with these male religious leaders, as well as records from Unitarian Societies and Churches. Throughout my analysis, I paid particular attention to the men’s tone and voice when addressing women directly or discussing feminism, comparing these communications with their approaches to other social and theological issues.
After a rigorous week immersed in archival research, our weary scholars sought respite from Newbury Street’s bustling Saturday crowds and found sanctuary within the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum’s tranquil halls.
The day’s unexpected chill and intermittent rain, initially unwelcome, proved fortuitous— the museum offered perfect refuge while the weather veiled the exterior gardens in a romantic mist that enhanced the garden’s atmospheric charm. Mrs. Gardner’s architectural vision unfolded before us as we navigated the museum’s intimate layout, each room flowing organically into the next. The central courtyard’s glass ceiling allowed natural light to filter through rainkissed panes, illuminating the glistening plants with moisture and creating shifting shadows across marble floors and classical sculptures.
The Blue Room particularly captivated our attention, its walls adorned with masterpieces such as Sargent’s commanding landscapes that seemed to pulse with life in the subdued lighting. Figures in portraits followed visitors through the carefully curated galleries, filling the room with intense beauty. Here,
as throughout the museum, we discovered an abundance of archival treasures— handwritten letters, personal correspondence, intimate postcards, and portraits that spoke directly to our scholarly sensibilities. Having spent countless hours deciphering centuries-old manuscripts, we found ourselves uniquely equipped to appreciate these glimpses into historical lives and relationships.
Our afternoon took on a delightful competitive edge with an impromptu scavenger hunt. The challenge: locate Gardner’s own portrait, identify three empty frames from the infamous heist, discover the museum’s largest weapon, and attempt a census of Adam and Eve depictions throughout the collection. While we successfully found the portrait and empty frames—haunting reminders of stolen masterpieces—and located an impressive medieval sword, our biblical figure count proved contentious, with scholars unable to reach a consensus.
The museum’s immersive architecture enhanced every discovery. Narrow staircases led to unexpected encounters of intimate alcoves, precious manuscripts, and soaring
ceilings that created dramatic backdrops for masterpieces spanning centuries. Gardner’s genius lay not merely in acquiring extraordinary works but in creating environments where art, architecture, and atmosphere converged into singular experiences.
Gardner’s uncompromising vision. The museum’s structure itself became part of the collection, each room a carefully composed collection of work that transformed viewing into discovery.
Emerging finally into the courtyard’s embrace,
As afternoon light shifted through rain-streaked windows, we marveled at the sheer abundance of treasure: modern paintings, ancient Roman artifacts, medieval tapestries complementing Asian ceramics, all arranged according to
surrounded by centuries of artistic achievement and one woman’s extraordinary ambition, we found ourselves refreshed and inspired—a perfect conclusion to our week of scholarly pursuits.
