Joy Marie Prior
Religion C 261 – Sister Kelly Summers
Assignment #10 - One Page Biographical Sketch for your Ancestor – 40 pts
Write a 1 page biographical sketch of your ancestor. Sources you may use include interviews, diaries, newspaper clippings, county histories, etc. A photo may be attached to your completed biography. You may summarize something you know about your ancestor.
Do not “copy” what others have written. Write the experience in your own words possibly quoting words of your ancestor. The motivation of this paper is to help a family member make a connection with your ancestor.
If you do not have access to actual information left by your ancestor you will need to rely on information from the locality assignment and maybe a county history to write your biographical sketch.
I hope this project is just the beginning of a much larger ancestor book.
Carl A. Carlquist
He was born in Sweden in 1857. His mother never told him who his father was, but let it be assumed that it was a man she had once been engaged to named Carl. Although his mother did eventually marry her husband died living her a penniless. During the cold winter months of his Childhood Carl would put together small match boxes, but often he went to bed hungry. Later in his mature life he formed a relationship with Carl, and his supposed half siblings. His mother was a maid in a high society retreat. Once someone gave him a free postcard with the picture of the prince of Sweden on it because they had mistaken him as the Prince of Sweden. He did not want to embrace the individual so he accepted it graciously.
His childhood seems disheveled and he believes that it showed in his appearance. On his first mission to the church a women welcomed her into his house and told him that he should stand against a door frame each day to help straighten his back. She also told him that he should speak with marbles in his mouth to help him learn to articulate. Later while serving his third mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints Carl gave over 50% of the sermons in his district. Many unsettled Swedes wanted to banish the Mormon missionaries from Sweden, and Carl was an avid speaker for the Mormons. His campaign followed behind one of the most avid anti-Swedish-Mormon campaign. He even spoke as a representative for the church to the King of Sweden.
He met Hulda, the only love of his life, while on his mission in Sweden. The rules were a little different then, and he kissed her on one of their long walks after he promised to follow her to Utah when he could and after his mission. She left for Utah shortly after and spent two years saving enough money to send to Carl so that he could immigrate to Utah and join the other members in Zion. They were married in Utah on the 3rd of September in 1877. Every night they would pray by their bedside before going to be so that they could say they never went to bed angry. She supported him while he served his missions for the church and when his businesses collapse, and he supported her when she was admitted into the Utah Insane Asylum. In their old age Hulda would lean against the fence and watch Carl walk home from work; then she would turn to her youngest daughter of her nine children and say in her thick accent, “doesn’t he look like a king?”
Carl loved to buy memorable gifts for Hulda. During a time of great economical turmoil Carl bough Hulda a dozen red roses and one white one. Later she said that at the time she wished he had spent the money on food; time made her forget how it feels to be hungry, but she has never forgotten those roses. He took out the diamond in his ring and put in a glass one so that she could have one in her ring.
Although, he was Swedish he loved the United States despite some of the discrimination he received when he first immigrated. He was actively involved in political affairs, and served in the original Scandinavian Salt Lake City Wards. One of the original gardeners of Lagoon amusement park immigrated to Utah from Sweden. Carl recommended him to the owner of Lagoon, but the man was not going to heir a Swede who did not speak English. Carl told the owner of Lagoon that although he did not speak English he spoke the language of the flowers; the man got the job. Many flea infested and lice covered immigrants stayed at the Carlquist home were Hulda poured cleaner down the bed stands and scrubbed them thoroughly; all were welcome to stay until they could support themselves.
He died on the 24 of July in 1938 in Salt Lake City. His wife died a few years later.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
SFL experience application
My freshman year I went to the Tribe of Many Feathers club expecting free fry bread. Instead, I was invited to join the Native American Hoop club. That night I curled up against the whitewashed wall next to my bed and watched the moon cross the sky through my broken blinds. It was the first time I had been a minority; buckets of emotions poured into my soul. I have honey blond hair, sapphire eyes, strawberry cream skin, and no one in that group looked like me at all. In those twilight hours the dawning of a new chapter of my life rose as I realized that the world is filled with people who I wanted to love but who I knew nothing about. I promised myself that I was going to go back to the dance class and I was going to learn.
After my freshman year of dancing hoop with the Tribe of Many Feathers I joined a local multicultural dance group called Remembering Our Culture. We volunteered a minimum of 10 hours a week, and I needed all the practice I could get. At first I remember wanting to cry myself to sleep because I felt so misplaced, but I knew that I wanted to be there and that helped me to want to go back. I had danced with the Native American Club for a year now, but this group was different. It was harder.
It makes me laugh when I think of how uncomfortable I felt when I first joined, because all of my dearest friends I meet while dancing. Throughout the winter semester we toured through Utah, the Navajo Reservation, New Mexico, and a at the end of the semester we went on a two week tour through Texas. Our goal was to encourage students to embrace their unique heritage and to aflame a desire for a secondary education. If it were the early 70s I could call it an Ethnography. I would have been a horrible researcher because I completely lost my objective (if I ever did have one) you could say I went “native”. I don’t see how a ethnography research could not turn native, because after working, crying, and laughing together I know I could never return to the person I used to be; I no longer think the same.
The second night of my visit to the Navajo Reservation was over a year ago and I remember warping myself in the cotton blankets and watching the shadows move across the welting wood floor as my reality crumbled. There were people who did not have the same opportunities I did: education, running water, housing, and even family. I guess I had always known that, but it was “stuff” for national geographic articles and not for the pages of my own life. On the drive home I began to rewrite my life goals. I felt driven not only to do something, but to become something. Above all I wanted to help others reach beyond what others expect them to obtain but more importantly above what they believe they are capable of.
My future goals are to apply for the Early Childhood Education program at Brigham Young University, and then I would like a Masters in possibly Special Education. A few months ago I served as a teacher assistant on the Navajo Nation. The Navajo Nation is an Indian reservation that crosses the boarders of Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico. It has it’s own system of government, but the government depends on the United States National financial aid. In one of the resource classrooms there was a single teacher for over ten students at one time. Their ages ranged from kindergarten to fifth grade; all of the students had minor to sever mental disabilities that require personal attention.
After, serving for a week the school asked me if I would like to work there as a hired teacher in the fall. I have no certificate, no official experience, but there is a constant shortage of teachers, finances, and motivation within the education system on the reservation. Although, I chose to return to Brigham Young University this fall I can not forget the black-eyed students with their long ponytails and warm chocolate skin. I am a firm believer that education is more valuable than any federal financial assistance ever could be. I want to organize opportunities for others (particularly children and adolescents) to have not only the opportunities but to have the motivation to become educated.
I feel strongly that this research project would help me to reach my goal. It is painful to know how many hundreds of minority students drop out of college because of the sudden pressure. True, the cultural differences of college are overwhelming, but from what I have observed that is not as hard as feeling like you are different. I remember one night after Christmas vacation my friend and I were coming home from a ward party. My friend turned to me, a few strands of her hair bounced off her high check bones as we walked in the slush, “I forgot that I am a minority here; I should want to be here, but I… yah know just being home for a few weeks, and I forgot what it feels like to be the minority.”
That night I made a startling self discovery. No one at our ward party was constantly thinking; she is a minority; she looks different than we do; she should not be here, but she was constantly thinking that. When I realized this I blushed at myself because I have felt this same insecurity, so often. I believe that this research project has the potential to help people who I love become more than they ever expected themselves to be. This is a research team I want to be apart of because it does not simply state the obvious-we are all different- it searches for how we can accept our differences.
After my freshman year of dancing hoop with the Tribe of Many Feathers I joined a local multicultural dance group called Remembering Our Culture. We volunteered a minimum of 10 hours a week, and I needed all the practice I could get. At first I remember wanting to cry myself to sleep because I felt so misplaced, but I knew that I wanted to be there and that helped me to want to go back. I had danced with the Native American Club for a year now, but this group was different. It was harder.
It makes me laugh when I think of how uncomfortable I felt when I first joined, because all of my dearest friends I meet while dancing. Throughout the winter semester we toured through Utah, the Navajo Reservation, New Mexico, and a at the end of the semester we went on a two week tour through Texas. Our goal was to encourage students to embrace their unique heritage and to aflame a desire for a secondary education. If it were the early 70s I could call it an Ethnography. I would have been a horrible researcher because I completely lost my objective (if I ever did have one) you could say I went “native”. I don’t see how a ethnography research could not turn native, because after working, crying, and laughing together I know I could never return to the person I used to be; I no longer think the same.
The second night of my visit to the Navajo Reservation was over a year ago and I remember warping myself in the cotton blankets and watching the shadows move across the welting wood floor as my reality crumbled. There were people who did not have the same opportunities I did: education, running water, housing, and even family. I guess I had always known that, but it was “stuff” for national geographic articles and not for the pages of my own life. On the drive home I began to rewrite my life goals. I felt driven not only to do something, but to become something. Above all I wanted to help others reach beyond what others expect them to obtain but more importantly above what they believe they are capable of.
My future goals are to apply for the Early Childhood Education program at Brigham Young University, and then I would like a Masters in possibly Special Education. A few months ago I served as a teacher assistant on the Navajo Nation. The Navajo Nation is an Indian reservation that crosses the boarders of Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico. It has it’s own system of government, but the government depends on the United States National financial aid. In one of the resource classrooms there was a single teacher for over ten students at one time. Their ages ranged from kindergarten to fifth grade; all of the students had minor to sever mental disabilities that require personal attention.
After, serving for a week the school asked me if I would like to work there as a hired teacher in the fall. I have no certificate, no official experience, but there is a constant shortage of teachers, finances, and motivation within the education system on the reservation. Although, I chose to return to Brigham Young University this fall I can not forget the black-eyed students with their long ponytails and warm chocolate skin. I am a firm believer that education is more valuable than any federal financial assistance ever could be. I want to organize opportunities for others (particularly children and adolescents) to have not only the opportunities but to have the motivation to become educated.
I feel strongly that this research project would help me to reach my goal. It is painful to know how many hundreds of minority students drop out of college because of the sudden pressure. True, the cultural differences of college are overwhelming, but from what I have observed that is not as hard as feeling like you are different. I remember one night after Christmas vacation my friend and I were coming home from a ward party. My friend turned to me, a few strands of her hair bounced off her high check bones as we walked in the slush, “I forgot that I am a minority here; I should want to be here, but I… yah know just being home for a few weeks, and I forgot what it feels like to be the minority.”
That night I made a startling self discovery. No one at our ward party was constantly thinking; she is a minority; she looks different than we do; she should not be here, but she was constantly thinking that. When I realized this I blushed at myself because I have felt this same insecurity, so often. I believe that this research project has the potential to help people who I love become more than they ever expected themselves to be. This is a research team I want to be apart of because it does not simply state the obvious-we are all different- it searches for how we can accept our differences.
SFL 290 application part 1
This past year I joined a multicultural dance group and we toured through Texas, I taught on the Navajo Reservation in both public and private school, I traveled through the Hawaiian Islands with a backpack for over two weeks living in different Latter Day Saints homes, and on Brigham Young University Campus I am an active member of the BYU Tribe of Many Feathers club (for the native American students) and take pictures for the Multicultural paper. I am Caucasian: I have blond hair, strawberry cream white skin, and sea blue eyes, but have learned to LOVE my physical differences the more that I learn and appreciate other people’s differences. I mention all of this because I enjoy talking to people, specifically people who know that they are different, but why I am so interested in this qualitative research is because the question is how do you deal with feeling different. This interreges me because instead of just talking about differences or how people treat each other because of our differences this research asks people to do something about it. I want to be apart of something that helps people to become empowered by discovering ways to positively (and negatively) handle differences.
Naturally, I am a talkative person and interviews and interviewing does not frighten me. Although I am sure that would have to learn how to do a scientific interview. I am comfortable with talking to a wide variety of people, and after class when you introduced the research topic all I could think of were people I would want to research. Both of my roommates are African American and grew up in Provo; they have some of the most interesting ways that they feel different. My best friend is Native American and grew up on the Navajo Reservation. My sister is six two, and has always felt out of place because of her height. Then I really would love to hear Emit’s life, Jennifer, Michael, Abe… I am sure that the actual research project would be organized and I could not just have a party with all of my friends, but that makes me all the more excited to be apart of the research. I want to know how other people handle their insecurities and what makes people feel different.
This research not only interests me, but I feel that I would be a positive and strong contributor to the research team. I would be willing to learn how to interview, enter in data, edit, because I want to learn and discover with a group of people who are interested in similar topics that I am. I believe that this would be the opportunity not only to learn more personally but to be apart of a team and group of people learning and growing together.
Naturally, I am a talkative person and interviews and interviewing does not frighten me. Although I am sure that would have to learn how to do a scientific interview. I am comfortable with talking to a wide variety of people, and after class when you introduced the research topic all I could think of were people I would want to research. Both of my roommates are African American and grew up in Provo; they have some of the most interesting ways that they feel different. My best friend is Native American and grew up on the Navajo Reservation. My sister is six two, and has always felt out of place because of her height. Then I really would love to hear Emit’s life, Jennifer, Michael, Abe… I am sure that the actual research project would be organized and I could not just have a party with all of my friends, but that makes me all the more excited to be apart of the research. I want to know how other people handle their insecurities and what makes people feel different.
This research not only interests me, but I feel that I would be a positive and strong contributor to the research team. I would be willing to learn how to interview, enter in data, edit, because I want to learn and discover with a group of people who are interested in similar topics that I am. I believe that this would be the opportunity not only to learn more personally but to be apart of a team and group of people learning and growing together.
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