Brooms are often called humble, lowly, unassuming, common, and the like, in informative articles and think pieces. I don’t really think they are.
My deep dive into the history of American colonial broommaking goes on as I settle in to review interviews and notes gathered from my visits to sites in Massachusetts/New York, read recommended texts, and try to create an image for myself in what would traditionally be the first days of harvest in the northern hemisphere.
I am continually captivated at what I find, especially concerning what I’ve learned about broomcorn and broommaking’s journey from common homestead process, to archetypal industrial revolution crop/product, to a romanticized antiquated craft AND outsourced manufactured good. Throughout the story there is plenty to comment on in terms of both labor and magic - the things I am often looking for - but also a lot of missing stories. I’m thinking about the availability of more information on the colonial espousing of indigenous farming methods for broomcorn, the role of women and children in broom production, and the possibility that sorghums came over via the transatlantic trade of enslaved peoples - as opposed to the efforts of Benjamin Franklin, a common bit of lore that is often repeated, yet doubted as the whole truth by even the most traditional of historians. Disappointingly but expectedly, the hierarchy of whose stories were the most fit to be recorded is clear. More work to be done.
I have also been reflecting about being a contemporary broommaker and the environmental impact that may have - finding ways to not waste corn scrap, questioning my reliance on substantial portions of outsourced broomcorn from Mexico (and not knowing anything about labor conditions there), and reading about cases of soil stress from 19th century broomcorn agriculture. It makes me happy to see so many broommakers growing their own corn in response to concerns like these, trying different fibers, and creating new varieties to keep broomcorn from becoming a monoculture. Admittedly, this is not an area I know too much about, but these seem like good moves. I also think about what the acts of personal homesteading and selling brooms mean in a capitalistic context, and how it can be done alongside decolonial action.
As I hone down further to specifically focus on Shaker broommaking for an upcoming grant proposal, I find myself in awe of the Shaker way of life. They shared their trades, techniques, and labor with both other Shakers and the outside “World”, and on the whole did not sign objects with their makers’ names. Though superbly crafted and beautiful in both function and vision, Shaker artisans did not claim ownership - putting the community first, ego second. Compare this to our contemporary ideals of American labor, artistry, individualism and exceptionalism (both during the colonial period and today).
The iconic Shaker broom served both as a tool of the home but also a loaded spiritual object and ritual tool. Also, upon arrival to what was newly called New York, Mother Ann was accused of being a witch by other colonists. Talk about perfect subject matter - I am excited to continue down this research path and see what I can do with this history.
#broom #broommaking #broommaker #broomcorn #shakerbroom