A Jewish Holy Land in Texas? Immigration, Assimilation, and Making Land Holy with Rachel Cockerell
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In this episode of Straight White American Jesus, Brad welcomes Rachel Cockerell, author of Melting Point, for a conversation about a little-known chapter in American and Jewish history: the Galveston Movement.
More than a century ago, 10,000 Russian Jews immigrated to Texas through a coordinated effort led in part by Rachel’s great-grandfather and inspired by Zionist thinker Israel Zangwill. Rachel shares the personal journey that led her to uncover this buried history and write Melting Point, which explores themes of migration, memory, and identity.
Together, Brad and Rachel examine how this movement reframes common narratives about Jewish immigration, the American frontier, and what it means to seek a homeland. They discuss the spiritual dimensions of migration, the complexity of assimilation, and the ongoing relevance of these themes in the context of current immigration debates.
This episode weaves together history, personal legacy, and timely questions about belonging, borders, and the meaning of “home” in America.
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Axis Mundi What if I told you that over 100 years ago, a ship packed with Russian Jews set sail to the Holy Land, or what they thought would become the Holy Land?
They were not on their way to Jerusalem.
They were not on their way to New York.
They were on their way to Texas.
Today I speak with Rachel Cockroll about her book Melting Point, which is an innovative memoir about her family history and the man who persuaded all of these Jews from Russia to get on a boat and head towards the Gulf of Mexico.
That journey marks the beginning of what's known as the Galveston Movement, a forgotten moment in history when 10,000 Jews fled to Texas in the lead up to World War I. Rachel discovered this family history by accident, and today in our interview, we discuss what it meant for her to uncover this Zionist movement to America rather than to Israel.
This idea of building a holy land or making a land holy in a place that was foreign and other.
The thing that I think fascinates me most about this story is the way that Russian Jews who were fleeing persecution understood Palestine, the place that would become the nation of Israel, to be occupied already by a people, and thus the decision not to go there, but to go to Texas.
This story has much to teach us about how we understand pilgrimage, how we understand sacredness, and how we understand the territories that Jews and others call holy.
We talk about what it means to call a place home.
We also talk about how the place you imagine is where you belong sometimes doesn't feel like it.
For subscribers, stick around.
I'm going to talk about the themes of assimilation and migration and juxtapose Rachel's work with what was happening in the United States as the Galveston movement took hold, Chinese exclusion, an injunction on Asian migration and segregation in the South.
And most of all, the idea that in what is supposed to be a melting pot, the United States, there are many, and there always have been many, who are unassimilable.
Those who will not be welcome, considered real Americans, regardless of how they act, what oath they take, or how they conduct themselves in the public square.
I'm Brad Onishi, and this is Straight White American Jesus.
Welcome to Straight White American Jesus.
It's great to be with you on this Monday.
I'm Brad O'Nishi, and I'm joined today, as I just mentioned, by a first-time guest who's written just what is a fantastically interesting and creative book, and that is Rachel Cockrell.
So Rachel, thanks for joining me.
Thank you, Brad.
The book is melting point.
There's so much to talk about.
This is one of those books that I don't really know.
Like you get into the book, you get into the story that went into the book, and you're supposed to ask somebody like half an hour's worth of questions.
And my brain kind of exploded thinking about all the ways that this could go.
But I think the first thing that we have to get to is just how you came across a book about your great-grandfather helping in a Jewish movement to move from Russia to a Holy Land, thinking that perhaps the Holy Land itself was not the place to go and ending up in Texas.
That's just the beginning of an amazing story.
We're going to get to all of that.
How did you even come across the idea of putting this together?
I came across it so by accident.
And even when I had come across it, I thought, this doesn't fit with the book I want to write.
I had a plan for a completely different book, which was a book about my grandmother who brought up her children in post-war London in this slightly chaotic house.
She was there, her husband was there, her kids were there, and her sister's family were there as well, and their mother and their great aunt.
So it was this like wild house with around 13 or 14 people in it in the 1940s in London with rationing and with, you know, everywhere around them was, you know, half destroyed from all the bomb damage.
My grandmother, Granny Fanny, died before I was born, but she's one of those people who was still always talked about.
You know, it was as if she had just like left to go to the next room.
So I wanted to write a book about her.
And then I kind of wondered, I vaguely, vaguely knew that she had immigrated to London from the Russian Empire as a child, speaking only Russian.
And I thought maybe I would start the book with her arrival in London.
And then I discovered a bit about her father, my great-grandfather.
And the more I found out about him, the more I realized that this was not going to be strictly a book about my grandmother.
My great-grandfather and this whole story of this movement that he founded began to sort of take up more and more of the book.
So now it's a kind of half history, half family memoir, half something else altogether, which is partly about this movement which my great-grandfather founded of sending 10,000 Russian Jews to Texas.
And then eventually it ends with my grandmother in London.
If we stay on the pre-story here, the pretext, you discover that your great-grandfather was in essence a household name in Eastern Europe in the beginning of the 20th century.
He's a household name in Eastern Europe among the Jewish community.
And yet, from what I can understand, your life growing up, your life as an adult, your life as a child, was not one that was filled with Jewishness.
Is that true?
And was this a discovery of a side or a part of your family that perhaps had not been one that had been totally pervasive throughout your life?
Yeah, it was really the opposite of pervasive.
It was so, it was so, it was sort of so in the corner of my eye, if that, you know, I barely thought about my slight Jewishness.
You know, technically I'm a quarter Jewish.
My grandmother was a Russian Jew.
My great-grandfather was a Russian Jew.
But I grew up with almost no Judaism.
My dad always had some gefilte fish in the fridge and maybe some Porsche in the cupboard.
But that was about it.
We, you know, some matzahs on a good day.
But that was the extent of my Jewishness.
I really felt like an English person or a Londoner more than I felt like a Jewish person.
So, you know, this book is called Melting Point.
And I didn't realize until about a year into writing it that it's really a book about assimilation, to use a kind of like awful and boring word, which is actually just something which is so, so present for all of us who have immigrants in our family, you know, even if you're a third or fourth generation immigrant.
If you look back, you kind of, if you look back over a few generations, you see how much you've lost, whether you're Jewish or any other nationality.
You see how different you are from your grandparents and your great grandparents.
Maybe it's language that you've lost, maybe it's songs, maybe it's certain rituals.
But especially, you know, in America, where, you know, the majority of the population is at some point or other an immigrant.
You know, this idea of the melting pot, whether it's a good thing or bad thing, was really at the center of my book.
And I never really reached a verdict about that.
Is assimilation good or bad?
I'm still undecided.
Your story hits home for me because I'm a mixed race.
My dad is Japanese American.
My mother's a white woman from the American South.
And I now have two daughters who are a quarter Japanese.
And I think all the time, and I've written about this in essays and other places, about the ways that the processes of assimilation demand that you have to actively exercise your story, otherwise it will no longer be there.
And if you don't exercise it like a muscle or like a practice, then the story of yourself and your family might fade into oblivion.
And I think about that all the time.
My little girls are named Onishi.
And if you met them on the street, you would think you were meeting two little white girls.
And I know that when we go places, people are like, who are these little kids named Onishi?
This doesn't add up.
And I've thought about the ways that I can like actually bring the story of our family's immigration from Japan to Hawaii to California to them in a way that's living and alive and vibrant.
And I don't have answers to that, but your book really brought, I think, so much of that forward.
And it's beautiful to see the ways you've discovered that aspect of the story of who you are and your family and the way it's come together.
We do have to talk about your amazing great grandfather, who's in the Russian Empire, the beginning of the 20th century.
And he begins to think of the need for Jews to migrate away from the Russian Empire.
I want to get to why he landed on Texas and everyone's like thinking, well, why Texas not, I don't know, the Holy Land.
But why did Jews need to remind us?
Why did the Jews need to leave the Russian Empire in the first place?
Why was the idea in his mind?
In the early 20th century, the first pogrom of what was to become a huge wave of pogrom broke out in a city called Kishinev, and around 50 Jews were killed.
And it sparked sort of outrage and horror across the world, especially in England and America.
You know, there were these huge protests.
You know, former presidents like Grover Cleveland spoke.
Theodore Roosevelt said, you know, nothing has been more at the forefront of my mind than this pogrom.
You know, it was, it really, it really took hold and was such a horror.
And yet it was just the first of hundreds and hundreds of pogroms that took place over the next decade or so.
And that was, you know, Jews have been persecuted in the Russian Empire, you know, forever.
But that was really the spark, a kind of turning point in terms of Russian Jews turning their eyes elsewhere and deciding, you know, this is the time we have to leave.
And some of those Jews turned their eyes towards America and many towards New York.
So your great-grandfather links up with And he links up with Israel Zangwill.
And they really are kind of the duo that are putting this plan into action.
Would you mind giving us just a little bit of background on Zangwill, who is actually the person, if I'm not mistaken, who coins the very famous term that you've already mentioned, melting pot?
Yeah, Zangwill was once the most Jewish writer in the world, at least in the English-speaking world.
He was a sort of Victorian celebrity, whether he was walking down Fleet Street in London or Madison Avenue in New York.
There would be crowds of admirers all around him wanting to sort of shake his hand and say how much they loved his novels.
He met Theodore Herzl, the founder of Zionism, at the turn of the 20th century and sort of slightly put his novel writing on hold for the sake of Zionism and for the sake of establishing a Jewish refuge somewhere on earth.
And then, you know, at a certain point, I mean, I don't want to give spoilers, but at a certain point in the early 20th century, he decides for certain reasons that there has to be a Jewish refuge outside Palestine.
Theodore Herzl, the founder of Zionism, he wanted a Jewish refuge in Palestine, but he thought there might be some other ideas.
And Zang Will sort of carried on this legacy.
He had this, so he, Zangwill and my great-grandfather and others rebelled from the Zionist movement.
It was quite dramatic at the time.
All the headlines in the American and English newspapers said Zionist split.
And we've now sort of forgotten about this split.
But this split resulted in a sort of rival group called the Jewish Territorial Organization.
Maybe one of the reasons we've, you know, we've forgotten about this split is because the name is so awful, like it's so uncatchy.
It's so many syllables.
And to make matters worse, they shortened it not to JTO, but to ITO.
So it was just like a, it was a bad start, but that, you know, the Jewish Territorial Organization's motto was, if we cannot get the holy land, we can make another land holy.
So Zangwill and my great-grandfather sort of searched the whole world for some empty land which could be a temporary refuge for the Jews while they waited to found a Jewish state in Palestine.
They thought, you know, there must be some land that we can just sort of build really a Jewish colony in.
They, you know, they approached governments across the world.
They searched, they considered land in Australia and Canada, Mexico and Paraguay, and many other places.
And all these plans fell through for one reason or another.
And then eventually they landed on Galveston, Texas, where they weren't allowed.
Literally by law, they were not allowed to sort of create a mini, you know, a Jewish state there or, you know, any sort of state.
But they were allowed to bring as many Russian Jewish immigrants as they wanted to Galveston, as long as they spread out across the whole of America.
And, you know, that's they had this plan to bring 2 million Russian Jews through the port of Galveston.
Their plan sort of fell short of their expectations.
They only brought 10,000, but it's still quite an achievement.
There's just, for me, you know, my training is in religious studies.
I have a PhD in religion.
When I read those words about, if we cannot return to the Holy Land, we'll make another land holy, you know, all of the various neurons were firing in my brain because it brings up so many questions about the ways human beings sacrifice land and space and community, the ways we think of a place as actually holy and why.
It also, and I don't want to give away spoilers either, and I won't, but it also brings into relief questions about the contemporary political landscape, what's happening in Palestine now, Israel, et cetera, and the ways that oftentimes the situation is billed as inevitable.
The Holy Land is a place where Muslims and Jews and Christians all claim as sacred, and thus conflict is something that just simply could never be avoided.
And when you read a story like this one, you hear about humans adapting and saying, well, we can make another land holy.
We can gather as a people in a different place and carry on our story in a way that remains sacred.
There's so many fascinating vectors of that.
But let's get to Texas.
Here we are, 10,000 Jews coming from Russia to Texas.
How does that go?
So if you can imagine for a second being a Russian Jew, maybe in a part of Russia, hundreds and hundreds of miles from any sort of sea or ocean, you only speak Yiddish, maybe you speak Yiddish and Russian, and you know that you want to leave.
So they had to travel to Bremen in Germany and then get on a boat for about a month and cross the Atlantic.
And they were told, you know, don't drink the sea water because it's got salt in it.
You know, it's not drinkable.
And the first boat of immigrants to arrive at Galveston were met by many journalists sent there from all across the country as sort of correspondents to write back these sort of pen pictures of this new project, this amazing new immigration project.
Some of these journalists called it the greatest immigration project of the century.
I mean, there were a lot of claims of the greatest dot, dot, dot of the century in about, you know, 1908, 1906, because, you know, they only had six years to talk about.
But these journalists wrote that, you know, they used the word alien a lot, which was a common word then, obviously, for immigrant.
But I think there was almost more to it.
For them, it was almost like people from another planet arriving.
You know, some people in Texas had never been outside Texas.
And here they were looking at immigrants from, yeah, from really another world, I guess the old world, as they called it.
The immigrants would be wearing, you know, it was the first immigrants arrived in the summer of 1907 and they were wearing woolen coats down to the ground and like several layers.
You know, maybe they had a bag with more warm clothes, you know, these heavy Russian boots.
So they really had no idea what they were getting in for, didn't speak a word of English.
They had to, you know, they would be given a train ticket to their, you know, to the place that they were going to live.
And, you know, they had to get on a train to some place they had never heard of, had no conception of, had never seen a picture of, and couldn't, could speak none of the language.
You know, if you imagine now, like a journey without your Google Maps or without Google Translate seems like a bit of a nightmare.
So really, I, you know, I spent a lot of the time while I was researching this thinking like, how did they do this?
I mean, it must have taken like a lot of courage and just maybe they just, they just, you know, as I said, they had no idea what they were getting in for.
Yeah, one of the first things I thought of is like, you come from Russia and you arrive in Texas and goodness, the clothes, the climate, they're like, I have been to Texas many times and the heat can be oppressive.
I just can't even imagine doing that coming from Russia.
As you say, coming from what is a different world, you know, 1907 into the next two decades in this country were times of rising anti-immigrant sediment and also anti-Semitic sentiment.
We arrived quickly in 1915 and into the 1920s into perhaps the height of anti-Semitic sentiment, at least in that part of the century.
Obviously, it was pervasive throughout the 20th century, but the KKK is what I'm driving at here, eventually has millions of people in it, and it is a thoroughly anti-Semitic organization.
All of that to say, I'm wondering how it went.
There's so much here to say, and people are just going to have to go read the book in order to understand in any sort of comprehensive manner, but how are they received?
And are they able to put down roots in a way that form the kind of community that was envisioned?
Yeah, I mean, I guess one of the lovely things about writing this book was, or I guess maybe poignant is a better word, was that, you know, this movement was 1907 to 1914.
And it was really on the eve of, as you said, this sort of rising tide of xenophobia, which took hold in the later decades of the 20th century.
But in 1900 to 1910, it felt like the sort of calm before the storm.
And as a result, there were barely any immigration quota at that time.
That's demonstrated by the fact that the organizers were envisioning two million Russian Jews arriving in Galveston, and they didn't receive any sort of opposition to that.
So really, they were greeted, as far as I can understand, with open arms.
They were welcomed there.
There was this idea that the American South and the American West were sort of in their infancy and needed people to, you know, to do the jobs and to sort of build up this young nation.
So I encountered really no examples of hostility towards the immigrants.
And yeah, I guess it just, it did make me reflect on today and how America's attitude towards immigrants and towards refugees has done a 180.
And it's, yeah, it's just, it's sort of painful to see the differences between then and now.
And it's fascinating to think about the issues there of race and ethnicity and religion, because, you know, during the 1880s, 1890s, and 1900s in the American West and California, in the Pacific Northwest and places like Seattle, the anti-immigrant ire directed towards Asian people was out of control.
We had the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act.
There was a treaty with Japan not to allow any more Japanese folks to come over in the early 20th century.
And, you know, when I think about the folks who are coming here from Russia, I'm always wondering and envisioning like people in Texas thinking, are these white people?
Are they Jewish people?
Can we tell?
Do we know the difference?
Would we know the difference if someone asked us?
Do we know like which language they speak?
What language do Jewish people speak?
Does the everyday person in like Texas know that?
And it brings up so many, again, questions about the ways people are read, the ways that like the American West opened up in front of them, whereas it had been closed down and told it was full to others who had immigrated previously.
There's just so, again, there's so many ways that your family story, the story of the migration from Russia to Texas opens up fields of analysis and fields of questioning.
So there's more to say there.
There's more to question, but people are going to have to read the book.
That's how it works.
This does bring us, though, to go ahead, please.
I think you're completely right.
And I am so ignorant in everything apart from the Jewish experience in the early 1900s arriving in America.
And I think you're right that there were a few of my family members said this to me that, for example, I have a cousin who's in the book who was partly brought up in the American South.
And her father was a Russian Jew.
And she said that her southern family barely understood that he was Jewish, didn't really know what that meant, wondered if it was another kind of Protestant.
So, you know, as you said, like he was white and therefore he was sort of, you know, good enough for them and was presumed to be one of them.
I want to just circle back to Zhang Will and the idea of the melting pot.
And I just wonder if you could share with us the context in which he coins that phrase because it's become something so monumental, at least in American discourse, something that's been analyzed and dissected, reviled and admired for a long time.
What is the genesis of that idea?
So the phrase melting pot actually comes from the Galbeston movement itself.
So this movement which has been kind of completely forgotten in American history or, you know, mostly forgotten, and also this person, Israel Zangwill, who has been mostly forgotten in American history, are the roots of this phrase the melting pot as it's used today, which is as a metaphor for American assimilation.
So Zangwill founded the Galveston movement and was inspired in 1908 to write this play called the Melting Pot, which is a slightly kind of cliched sentimental play about two immigrants in New York who fall in love and cast their differences aside and become, you know, become all-American and that's it, happily ever after.
And this play was premiered in Washington, D.C. in 1908 with Theodore Roosevelt in the audience, who apparently led the standing ovation.
Obviously, Roosevelt was very pro the idea of people coming to America and casting off their old world ways and just, you know, not just revering only one flag, the American flag.
So if you think of it, you know, before 1908, there was this idea of assimilation and of people becoming an American, but there was not really a word for it, or at least not a word that was sort of commonly used or that was commonly used.
And then post-1908, this phrase, the melting pot, just sort of embedded itself into the American vocabulary.
And, you know, it was Zangwill's phrase, and yet it sort of took on a life of its own and very much departed from this bad play that he wrote that is no longer put on or no longer remembered by everyone.
But it's just the idea at the heart of this play, which the American people realized was a valuable way to describe what was happening in the U.S. It's amazing to think about 10,000 folks, Jewish folks, arriving in Galveston.
You know, if they arrive in New York, you know, there's all of these various ethnic communities, right?
You know, there's Chinatown and there's all the places that various people from all over the world are gathering, whether they're Italian, whether they're Irish, and so on.
And yet they're in Texas and that's just not the case.
And it is interesting to think about this idea of the melting pot taking on a life of its own, as you say, which is completely true.
We're going to run out of time.
And with a book like yours, there's just no way to encapsulate everything into a discussion like this.
And there's really no point because reading the book is really what people should do.
But I want to ask just two more questions.
One is about the other side of your family, your grandmother, and really what leads to your upbringing in London.
Talk about two vastly different experiences from two sides of the same genealogical tree.
How do we get a family that some of the folks are Russian Jews living in Texas, at least for a time, and others are in London for generations and generations?
Great-grandfather said to the Russian Jewish immigrants, off you go to Texas, have a nice time.
And then for some reason, he ended up in London.
So as far as I understand it, he fell ill while he was in London and then World War I broke out and he was sort of stuck there.
So he sort of became English by accident.
And I think a lot of people become things by accident.
It's all just some ancestor who makes a snap decision and therefore changes the course of their descendants' lives.
And that's what happened.
I think of myself as so English and yet it was just a some snap decision.
You're nodding.
Do you have a similar story in your family?
No, no, no.
Well, I'm so interested in this because some of your family members then decide at some point living in the UK that they're going to go to Israel when the sort of Zionist return to what becomes the nation of Israel takes place.
And there seems to be a sense of both loss and gain in that process, right?
People who were English going to a place that they didn't really know, but thinking that was where they need to be to be quote unquote home.
As you were speaking, I was just thinking about this word home.
What does it mean to be home?
You're talking about being English by accident, and yet my guess is you feel most at home in London.
You know, where did your great-grandfather feel most at home?
Was it in Russia?
Was it in Texas?
Was it in many places?
Where do people who've returned to Israel after not living there, after Israel becomes a state in 1948, where is home for them?
Reading your book made me think that sometimes going home is as much about loss as it is gain.
And I just wonder if some of those themes are true for you or maybe I was just reading my own family's history into your work.
No, I think that's completely right.
The whole way through writing this, I was thinking about ideas of home.
I mean, I guess for me, the sort of memory, the sort of memory of migration has almost been lost in my family.
It was my grandmother and when she was very young.
It doesn't feel close to me.
I'm a third generation immigrant, but even saying that feels like, am I really?
But my grandmother's sister went to Israel in 1951.
She went to Jerusalem.
And she always said to her children who are still alive, back home in England, you know, oh, home, England.
You know, I think, I think those children grew up in Israel, right?
Those children, they grew up in Israel.
Those children, they moved to Israel when they were sort of 10 years old.
So it's that sort of, yeah.
I don't know where they would call it home, but I think the place you were raised sort of, as one character in my book says, you know, where you were raised has its hands on you, you know, whether you, for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not.
Yeah.
Well, we got to finish by talking about the form of this book.
It's a dazzlingly experimental work, which I don't, from what I understand at least, you didn't set out to write in this manner, but it happened.
You know, the book is really a curation of new sources and quotations and the original voices of the characters who promulgated this movement from Russia to Texas and so on and so forth.
But it takes a conductor to lead a symphony and reading the book, it feels as if you are that conductor.
What was it like entering into a form of writing that is just wildly heterodox and not what one learns in an MFA program or reading their favorite novel at night?
I love that idea of being the conductor of a symphony.
And I've never heard that before.
And thank you.
I feel like that's the highest compliment.
So to explain, for anyone who hasn't sort of flicked through the book, it's formed entirely of primary sources, which I think if I heard that on a podcast I was listening to, I would think like, oh, please no, anything but that.
Whatever you just said, I don't even understand it, but I don't want to read that.
I hope the sort of nicest response I've had to the book is that it feels like a novel.
I think by removing my voice, I hope that the effect is just that the reader is sort of transported back in time and is led through the story by the people who were really there rather than by some woman in the 21st century who wasn't there.
You know, my first draft did have my own voice in it.
It was told in a very conventional way with my voice woven through the primary sources.
And then I wondered if instead of weaving my voice in, I could just take my voice out and weave the primary sources so that one sort of flowed into the next as if they were in conversation with each other, as if they were sort of arguing with each other.
And I had this really lovely, uncanny feeling sometimes of these voices from the past coming to life, sort of jostling for space as if they were sort of in a waiting room wanting to tell you their side of the story.
You know, some of the quotations are one line long or two lines long.
Some of them are several pages long and the names of each of the people or journalists speaking are in the margins or the newspapers.
So you can just skim over them if you want and just concentrate on the story and sort of glance into the margin every once in a while to see who's speaking.
But I think that, you know, I hope that you're sort of, you know, getting used to it quite quickly.
It was fun to write because really the writing process was all revisions.
I had this sort of insane first draft of all these, all these accounts that I'd sort of been handed by finding them.
And then my job was to structure it in such a way that it was sort of filled with energy and sort of fast-paced and always wondering, you know, how can I tighten this a bit?
How can I, is that sentence a bit boring?
Can I take it out?
You know, making characters as vivid as possible, making scenes as vivid as possible with small details.
But yeah, on the page, as you flip through, you think like, what on earth is going on here?
And I hope that as you read it, you get used to it and think like, okay, I'm on board for this.
Yeah, you know, I've said this before, and I'll say it again about this book.
I, you know, I love to write.
I write nonfiction.
I sometimes have these dreams that one day I too will be a fiction writer and I will have characters and story arcs.
And sometimes I read novels and think, oh, yeah, I can do that.
And then I read a book like yours and I'm like, nope, no, no, no, I can't.
Nah, I'm going to stick to what I do.
I'm going to write these op-eds about terrible political news and not get into this business because I'm not cut out for it.
Rachel Cockrell, tell us where people can find you and your ongoing work and ways they might connect with appearances or readings or anything else you might be up to.
I'm in New York at the moment, a few events, and I have a website, Melting Point, I believe is in all good bookshops.
And yeah, you can, there are, I think there are a lot of ways to tap me.
I've been getting, I've been getting some emails from.
You get emails.
We'll leave it at that.
That's easy to find.
Some of those emails are really fun.
Some of them I'm sure are crazy.
Some of them I'm sure are crazy.
All right, y'all.
As I promised, if you're a subscriber, stick around.
I want to talk about this theme of assimilation and what was happening in the United States when the Galveston movement took hold and what it can tell us about today and those who are deemed unassimilable.
If you're not a subscriber, today is a great day to check that out.
You can see all the info in the show notes.
You'll get access to every episode of this show, 850 plus.
