Malacology 101: Snail Sex

CW: NSFW snail facts.

Those who know me well know that I adore snails. Malacology – the scientific study of gastropods such as slugs, snails, and mollusks – has become a serious area of interest for me over the past year or so. My fascination with malacology began when I attempted to create my own biosphere (a contained, self-maintaining habitat for aquatic plants, mosses, and microscopic critters); one of my aquatic plants came with a tiny bladder snail (Physella acuta - AKA pest snail, or freshwater pond snail). I became utterly enamored with the tiny, adorable bladder snails until they bred so fast that I couldn’t keep up with them…they ended up eating literally all my water plants, so I needed to get rid of them. It turns out that they’re a common problem for aquarium keepers (and had I done my research, I would have known that). I decided that once I have the appropriate space and time to maintain an aquarium, I’ll probably keep larger aquatic snail species (ones that won’t procreate like crazy).

My appreciation for snails was quelled until I got another opportunity to keep them – this time, with terrestrial snails. One night, I received a message from a friend of mine, stating that he found a garden snail in the dumpster of the restaurant he was working at. He sent me a picture of the snail, asking if I wanted to keep it. An hour later, I bought a terrarium, a food dish, and found a pot for it to hide in, as well as some substrate, plants, and a stick for it to climb on – a pretty comfortable environment, when compared to a dumpster. I found out that it was a grove snail (Cepaea nemoralis), and I named it Biggie Snails.

Biggie Snails, about to investigate some carrots. 

Keeping garden snails is fun; they’re relatively low-maintenance and easy to care for, while being incredibly adorable and fascinating to learn about. However, like the bladder snails I mentioned above, most garden snails procreate very quickly. I wasn’t aware of this at first (again, I only did the bare minimum of research here) until I witnessed Biggie burrowing into the substrate, laying a full clutch of eggs.

Snails like to burrow down into the substrate (soil), to protect their eggs from predators. Here, Biggie chose to lay its eggs right beneath the food dish. 

Snails and slugs are hermaphrodic - they possess both male and female genitals. They prefer to mate and exchange their "genetic stuff" with others (which produces healthier stock), but if that isn't an option, some species can fertilize their own eggs. I’m unsure if grove snails prefer to mate with others or not; either Biggie had already mated with another prior to finding its way into a dumpster (sad), or it inseminated itself. At any rate, within a few weeks, I had at least 50 baby snails crawling around in the habitat I made for Biggie.

One of Biggie's babies, exploring the log in the tank. Notice how translucent it is; this one is only 5-7 days old.

A baby snail, exploring my thumb. Here, its shell is still somewhat see-through, but the brown stripes characteristic of grove snails are beginning to form. This one is about 2 weeks old.

The baby snails start out totally translucent; they need a lot of calcium in order to grow their shells properly (most terrestrial snail keepers use ReptoCal or a cuddlebone in their tanks; I’ve found that both work rather well). Unfortunately, only 15-20 of Biggie’s baby snails survived. Of those, I kept only one – Missy Shelliot – and I set the rest free into the wild. I have mixed feelings about setting them free; grove snails are an invasive species already (they came along on vegetable ships with European colonizers), and I don’t want to screw up the natural order. I set one snail free in different locations, with each location being 7-10 miles away from each other.

Missy Shelliot, who seems to enjoy exploring new places a lot more than Biggie does. 

I mentioned that snails need calcium for maintaining their shells; here's a good example of why. Missy Shelliot's shell is on the left, and Biggie Snails's shell is on the right. Biggie's slime isn't as strong as it used to be (he's getting rather old now), so he falls from the lid of the terrarium sometimes. This caused significant damage to its shell, exhibited by flaky white fragments in the middle of the spiral. Fortunately, though, the shell is beginning to grow back, due to the fact that Biggie is finally starting to notice the cuddlebone that I left in their terrarium.

Earlier this week, I caught both Missy Shelliot and Biggie Snails in the mating act. Slugs and snails display elaborate mating rituals that last for hours, which are specific to certain species. Supposedly, this keeps them from mating with other species and prevents them from making hybrid babies. Snail mating is equally fascinating as it is gross; they start off as if they’re about to argue, fight, or dance, but with their genitals out. Most snail species inseminate each other at the same time, both giving and receiving sperm. Some slug species also do this, but in slightly more entertaining ways – for example, great grey garden slugs can copulate in midair, suspended from strands of slime that can be up to 17 3/4 inches long. Banana slugs intertwine themselves in an S pattern, in which each one gives and receives sperm. However, un-twining themselves after mating is difficult, and could result in "apophallation" - one slug actually gnaws off the penis of the other (Gordon 1994: 31-32).

The two large snails are Missy and Biggie; the arrows are pointing to protruding dark spots, which are their penises at half-mast. The small snail towards the top is an innocent bystander, just trying to mind its own business.

Part of the pre-mating "dance", which is unique to only grove snails. The video is blurry, but since their dicks are out you probably get the point.

Of course I got a video of my snails’ pre-mating ritual – you know, for science – but I refrained from getting one of them in the act itself (I know they’re just invertebrates, but they still deserve to have at least a little goddamn privacy). As you can see in the photo and video, they both have taken out their penises and they began their “mating dance”, which actually lasted for three and a half hours. Their actual copulation took an additional three hours. For another version of the snail mating process, zefrank1 made a lighthearted video about it, which gets into the actual “spirited love darting” process. The gestation period for slugs and snails vary among each species. For grove snails, it’ll take approximately 3-4 weeks for a clutch of eggs to appear after mating. It usually takes an additional 4 weeks for those eggs to hatch, depending on environmental circumstances.

Useless (but hilarious) slug fact: slug genitals are disproportionally large, compared to the rest of their body. An example is that of the great grey garden slug - whose penis is half the length of its body. These traits are also reflected in their scientific names - for example, one banana slug species, dolichophallus, is Latin for "really long penis" (Gordon 1994: 31-32). Now you have a nice lunch-time conversation topic.

Though snail mating is fascinating, I could definitely live without seeing it in action ever again. Anyway, if you're interested in learning more about slugs and snails, I absolutely recommend these two books (Gordon 1994, 2010): 

Mental Health and Archaeology (Post-SHA Reflection)

TW / CW: in-depth descriptions of depression and mental health issues

I laughed way too hard at this. Sorry. 

This past week, myself and thousands of other archaeologists attended the 53^rd Annual Conference on Historical and Underwater Archaeology – i.e., the annual Society for Historical Archaeology (SHA) conference. It was a total blast – I got to explore Boston, I learned a lot of useful things during the symposia, I was able to meet professionals in my field and make connections, and I became inspired to put together a couple of topics for my own future presentations. I was surprised at the amount of familiar people who were at the conference; quite a few of my friends and colleagues, both known in person and on the Internet, attended. Meeting my Internet archaeology pals for the first time was incredible, though I didn’t get the chance to have many in-depth conversations with some of them (there also were a few people who I simply didn’t recognize until it was too late to introduce myself). The driving force in preventing me from meeting more people and networking, though, was the crippling depression I had during my trip.

From October to about mid-April, I get horrendous Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD, which is…a convenient acronym). Symptoms are different for everyone, but for me, SAD causes mild to extreme depression, anxiety in social situations, sensory overload, and irritability. I recall feeling a sense of extreme sensory overload and anxiety during the opening reception of the conference, due to the sheer volume of people and voices who were gathered all at once in the Grand Ballroom of the Sheraton. Most nights after the symposia were over, I felt myself craving isolation and time alone, while simultaneously wanting to go out with my friends at the conference (which is typical for my SAD: equally wanting social interaction while desperately wanting to be alone, all at the same time, in one feeling). Depression affects my performance in the field and lab as well; I don’t think as clearly, I withdraw into myself, and I’m unenthusiastic (a trait that is very uncharacteristic for me). However, I’m not alone in this; after seeing fellow professionals talk about this on Twitter (see also Alex Fitzpatrick’s blog post on #DiggingWhileDepressed) and after talking in person to my colleagues, it is apparent that depression is a common problem within our discipline, especially within commercial and academic contexts.

Archaeologists who travel a lot for their jobs are away from their family, friends, and their entire home base for extended amounts of time. In the context of a conference, for example, one is surrounded by thousands of people within the same or adjacent disciplines, all of which are in different walks of life; though I feel very well-versed and experienced in my own field, I was surrounded by others who knew way more than I do about various aspects of my research interests. It can be hard to keep feelings such as imposter syndrome at bay (not to mention the SAD-induced social anxieties). It was difficult for me to navigate through my feelings during the SHA conference, a professional setting that was far from home, and is an experience that is still relatively new to me.

Aside from being apart from home often, cultural resource managers, academic archaeologists and graduate students are subject to immense workloads and unrealistic expectations. Archaeological fieldwork, lab work, and research are all physically and mentally taxing. Unfortunately, in the US, field technicians doing much of the “grunt work” in CRM don’t have access to health care through their company, which makes seeking professional help a difficult [read again: inaccessible] task. Graduate students who aren’t supported financially by their university experience the same issue. Academic archaeologists are expected to teach large classes, keep office hours, and publish their own research, while most have other obligations at home that need to be taken care of. Doug’s Archaeology highlighted some sessions and papers that explore some of the work that archaeologists have done to study and bring forward these issues. Discussions of mental health in our field are continuous and frequent, and I think that’s a very good thing; my hope with bringing this conversation back into the spotlight is that “mental health”, “emotional well-being”, and whatever else you want to call it, get the same treatment that physical illnesses do for archaeologists.

Since mental health varies so greatly among everyone, I’m refraining from handing out unsolicited advice – I don’t have any “advice” anyway. However, I do encourage folx to utilize their support groups – professional therapists, friends and family, colleagues, and so on – and, if you’re comfortable with speaking out about it, I encourage you to do so. I was surprised at the amount of solidarity there was out there when I started talking about it, and it inspired me to keep at it. However, I can’t stress enough how much clinical, professional therapy will help. As a side note, I never used to crack open about my own mental health, neither with whatever kind of other garbage I’m going through. There’s no specific reason for that; I just didn’t do it. However, I’ve been finding that being openly honest about it actually helps me cope with it; I’m no longer embarrassed to admit anything. I know how to treat and manage SAD, and at this point, I’m now able to recognize the different situations in which SAD resurfaces; though, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m still learning (mostly via the hardest ways possible) how to cope with the stress of working CRM, working in academic spaces, and being a graduate student all at the same time, all while being plagued with SAD. I thank my friends and colleagues for being part of my support system.

I think it’s crucial to remember that it is perfect normal and fine to become burnt out in a job and/or career that you genuinely enjoy. Needing to take a break does not mean that you stopped loving it, or that you no longer appreciate it. Being dedicated to the grind is one thing but treating yourself like a robot is another. Trust me, literally everyone in archaeology experiences this at some point in their careers. Please take the time that you need – get the help that you need – and take care of yourself this year.

Historical Ceramics and Electrolysis: An Experiment

A few weeks ago, I conducted an experiment using electrolytic cleaning to rid stubborn chunks of iron corrosion from ceramic fragments. These ceramic sherds were recovered by Tim Bennett and his family at the historic Warner Pioneer Homestead (20LV334), from Feature 19. Due to post-depositional processes (presumably from being in the ground for a hundred years with oxidizing soils and iron artifacts), these potsherds were encrusted with ferric (iron) concretions, which made it impossible to mend the sherds together with others from the same vessels (i.e. cross-mending). Cross-mending ceramic sherds is useful for determining the forms of vessels and their full decorations, which can be functionally and temporally diagnostic. The ferric concretions that were encrusted on these sherds were impossible to detach with typical artifact cleaning procedures.

For my purposes here, I’ll very briefly summarize the electrolysis process (I posted a lab manual for the process on my blog, located here). In short, electrolysis is the process by which ferrous artifacts are cleared of ferric corrosion via electrical current. Electrolysis is useful for determining an iron artifact’s past function. Since iron oxidizes, electrolysis also helps conserve artifacts by preventing further corrosion. The artifact (or in chemist’s terms, the cathode) is connected to a battery’s negative charge. To ensure an efficient electrical current, the iron artifact is Dremeled in the places where the negatively charged clips will be connected. The battery’s positive charge is connected to a steel rod or mesh, which is called the anode. The cathode and anode are placed in a bath with distilled water and baking soda (which acts as an electrolyte); the battery’s electrical charge essentially attracts the oxidation from the artifact to the anode, aided by the baking soda electrolytes. The end result is an iron artifact that no longer has ferric corrosion on its surface. In order for the electrolytic cleaning process to work, there needs to be a strong connection from the iron artifact’s intact/corrosion-free surface to the negative charge, to facilitate a strong electrical current.

At the beginning of this electrolysis experiment, I decided that I would test three hypotheses. The first hypothesis is that the battery’s electrical current would not be able to flow through the ceramic well enough. According to the American Ceramic Society, there are trace amounts of iron in all earthenware and stoneware clay bodies (I can’t seem to find a source that can tell me exactly how much is in each paste category, but there seems to be many variables that alter the amounts). Some ceramic glazes also contain amounts of iron, all of which vary depending on the glaze’s chemical composition and intended color. Being that the sherds were all plain whitewares and hard-paste porcelains with lead-based glazes, I feared that there wouldn’t be enough iron in the pastes and glazes to ensure a strong enough connection through which the current could flow. My second hypothesis was that the sherds would not be able to withstand the electrical current at all, and that they would fall apart soon after the voltage was increased. Only one of the sherds exhibited any kind of decoration (gilded bands running along the rim); I was concerned that any overglaze decoration would flake away during the process. Finally, my third hypothesis was that the electrolysis process would be successful, and that the electrolysis process could be used by historical archaeologists in the future to clear ceramics of ferric concretions.

Before I began the process, I gave each sherd an identification number. Giving them arbitrary numbers helped me monitor each sherd’s overall progress in the electrolysis bath more closely. I also kept track of which cathode clips were attached to which sherd, and I kept detailed notes during the whole experiment. Sherd #s 1-5 are all from lead-glazed whiteware vessels, and sherd # 6 was made from hard-paste porcelain. Sherd # 2 has two overglaze gilt bands that run along the rim, which unfortunately can’t be seen very well in the photo above (for descriptions of what these paste and glaze categories mean, the Maryland Archaeological Conservation Lab does a nicejob). Since our electrolysis bath at CMU is only equipped with four cathode wires, I put only four sherds in the bath at a time. As I stated previously, the iron artifacts that I clean electrolytically are always Dremeled first in spots where the cathode wires can be connected to the artifact’s original surface under the corrosion, which facilitates a strong electrical connection. Since the sherds were only covered with ferric concretions in small areas, the Dremeling step was not necessary. It did occur to me that a gentle Dremeling on the concretions themselves would efficiently get rid of them, but a grinding stone bit or a steel brush bit of a Dremel would certainly scratch the paste and glaze surfaces, thus furthering the damage on the sherds.

Since I really did not want my second hypothesis to occur, I altered the typical electrolysis process for cleaning iron artifacts to be slightly gentler on these ceramic fragments. As a general rule of thumb, the amount of voltage/amperage needed to clean iron artifacts in an efficient amount of time is calculated as one amperage per every two square centimeters of the artifact. Additionally, the higher the voltage/amperage, the faster the ferric corrosion repels from the artifact’s core. Since I didn’t want to zap these sherds into oblivion, I refused to follow my own guidelines. Instead, I kept the amperage low at first (5V/0.5A), and I increased the amperage gradually once I knew that it was safe to do so. Since I never leave the electrolysis running overnight (the process needs to be monitored closely), I needed to disconnect the battery wires and take the sherds out of the bath until I could tend to them again. After successfully cleaning iron artifacts, they need to be “stabilized” by letting them simmer in distilled water for 2-3 hours, and then baked in an oven at 200 degrees Fahrenheit for an additional 2-3 hours. After they’re baked and cooled down, they are covered with a microcrystalline wax to ensure that they don’t oxidize again. Since the ceramics are obviously not totally made out of iron, I skipped these last steps.

Fortunately, my first and second hypotheses didn’t work out, and my third hypothesis was deemed successful. Collectively, after about 18 hours in the electrolysis bath at 10V/2A, the ferric concretions could easily be wiped away from the glazed surfaces and hard-paste porcelain. The concretions on the whiteware clay bodies were slightly more stubborn, although I could still persuade them to come off by gently picking at them with a dental pick. The gilt decoration on sherd # 2, fortunately, did not disintegrate. Furthermore, unlike full iron artifacts, leaving the sherds out to dry overnight did not make the corrosion any worse. The ferric concretions flaked away during this process, but the ferrous staining remained. To remedy this, I soaked them in white vinegar for a few hours while periodically giving them a gentle scrub with a toothbrush; however, no changes were made.

Before electrolysis

After electrolysis

To conclude, these results suggest that electrolysis can be used to clean ferric concretions from historical ceramics. The process is especially useful for vessel fragments, since the absence of concretions make the cross-mending and reconstruction of full vessels possible. Furthermore, the electrolysis process did not damage the surface treatment or decoration on the sherds in the sample. Before using electrolysis as a standardized practice, however, more testing needs to be done on ceramic fragments with other forms of decoration to make sure that the electrolysis process does not harm other types of surface treatment. Additionally, the samples need to be monitored to make sure that the ferric staining does not grow worse (especially since the sherds were not “stabilized” afterwards).

For more background information about the Warner Pioneer Homestead, implore you to check out Tim’s blog. I am indebted to both Tim Bennett and Sarah Surface-Evans, who originally came up with the idea and let me take control of the experiment.

Electrolysis: a lab manual

Electrolysis Manual – Introduction

The main goal of this laboratory manual was to help students understand and properly conduct electrolysis procedures for the cleaning and conservation of iron archaeological artifacts. The process of electrolysis is used widely among archaeological laboratories, thus becoming a standard of professional iron conservation methodology. Depending on what you plan on cleaning, the actual processes themselves vary; additionally, the processes will vary from lab-to-lab. At any rate, I felt the need to make my own electrolysis knowledge accessible. Texas A&M University published a handy electrolysis manual through their website; that entire manual is here: https://nautarch.tamu.edu/CRL/conservationmanual/File10a.htm. However, their document is jargon-heavy and densely written. If you’re like me and haven’t taken any chemistry classes since your tenth grade of high school, the chemistry jargon they use is, at best, confusing; their steps might be hard to follow at first glance. As I started doing electrolysis on my own, I made this step-by-step manual, following the processes that I found most practical. Within this manual are also video links and the notes that I made on them; they were useful to me while I was learning the electrolysis process, so I included them, in case they might be useful to you. As I implied already, this manual is written with one goal in mind: to help laboratory practitioners, at all levels, understand and properly use electrolysis as a tool to clean and conserve iron artifacts.

I should note that the following process is ONLY for material culture made of IRON. 

Before electrolysis. Not from a provenience - it's an iron cultivator sweep that dates to circa. 1984. 

What You’ll Need:

•      A Dremel
•     Face masks (optional)
•    FUME HOOD (or, the great outdoors)
•    Baking soda
•   Distilled water
•    Steel object(s) (to use as the anode)
•    Measuring cups
•    Safety glasses
•    Rubber gloves
•  Plastic tub – polypropylene, or one of the other chemical-resistant plastics – to use as a vat
•   Field tape (to help you keep track of multiple proveniences if necessary)
•   Wooden dowel
•   Copper wire
•   Electrical tape
•   Battery/electrical power source
•   Iron artifacts
•   Access to the electrolysis worksheets in the lab
•   Paper/shop towels
•   Access to an oven and stove; pots and pans that you don’t intend on using for food
•   Renaissance™ micro-crystalline wax polish

The Electrolysis Process

                In its simplest terms, electrolysis is a chemical process by which ferric corrosion is broken down, or reduced, via electric current. More specifically: during electrolysis, the corrosion on the outside of a negatively charged cathode is being repelled onto the surface of a positively charged anode by electric current and electrolytes. Electrolysis is simply shorthand for electrolytic reduction cleaning. In our case, the cathode is the artifact you’re interested in cleaning. The cathode will be negatively charged when it gets hooked up to the battery. The anode – referred to by scientists as the “sacrificial anode” – typically consists of a rod, sheet, or mesh made from steel. Most steel products are “pure”; “pure” metals have better electrical potential, i.e. an ability to maintain a higher electric current. Other such metals include zinc, magnesium and aluminum. In our case here at CMU, we’ve been using stainless steel rods that have been flattened; they work pretty well and they take a long time to become unusable. The anodes will be connected to the positive battery charge. The electrolytes, in our case, will be the particles of baking soda (sodium bicarbonate, NaHCO₃). Some labs use sodium carbonate (Na₂CO₃), which is more basic and is slightly stronger than NaHCO₃ (it will also burn your skin). Others use different chemical formulas, according to how acidic or basic they need the solution to be, which depends on the contexts from which the artifacts were recovered (e.g. saltwater versus soils), and how large the artifacts are. Remember that most of the time, we work with ferrous artifacts that were found from within the ground, and most of them are relatively small or medium-sized. For our purposes, baking soda is enough.

The Steps:

1. Take a photo of the artifact before using electrolysis to clean it. Record its provenience information as well. If you’re cleaning multiple artifacts at once (I suggest limiting to no more than three), please make sure you can track which provenience goes to which artifact. If you cannot do so, then only clean artifacts from the same provenience together.
2. If the artifact is significantly corroded, you’ll need to use a Dremel to sand down the portion of the artifact you plan on attaching to the negative charge. This ensures that the electric current can flow through. Only use electrolysis on artifacts that still have an intact metal core. If the artifact is already flaking away, the electrolysis will actually eat away the whole artifact. Use a face mask while using the Dremel on anything.
3. ONLY CONDUCT ELECTROLYSIS INSIDE OF THE FUME HOOD. The electrolysis process emits fumes and particulates into the air; said fumes and/or particulates might cause a fire or explosion if exposed to electrical sparking from the battery. Besides, you do not want to inhale the electrolysis byproducts. If you don’t have access to a fume hood, then please conduct electrolysis outdoors.
4. Pour five gallons of distilled water into the plastic tub. Remember that electrolysis is a chemical process; not all plastics can withstand it. Make sure that the tub is made out of polypropylene, or polytetrafluoroethylene, or polyvinylidene. Measure out a ½ cup of baking soda and pour that into the tub of water. The baking soda acts as the electrolyte.
5. We use a plug-in battery as the main power source for this process – a tan Tekpower (TP1503C) battery. The battery comes with one red alligator clip and one black alligator clip. [INSERT PHOTO] Remember that your anode is the object to which the rust corrosion will be attracted. Notice that the red wires are connected to the steel shelving components on the inside of the plastic vat. Connect the exposed end of the red wire to the red alligator clip that is connected to the battery.
6. Hook the black wires – they have alligator clips on the ends – to the artifact. The clips should be attached to the portions of the artifact that you Dremeled. Alternatively, if the artifact is too thick and the clip won’t stay on, you can use copper wire to attach the clips (this method doesn’t work quite as well – it just takes a little longer to work).
7. Once the wires are hooked up, gently place the artifact into the baking soda/water solution. ENSURE THAT THE ARTIFACT AND THE WIRES CONNECTED TO IT DO NOT TOUCH THE ANODES OR THE WIRES CONNECTED TO THEM. Additionally, make sure that the red and black clips connecting to the battery itself DO NOT TOUCH. A bit about electrical safety: our steel anodes are covered in chrome; as the electrolysis process is happening, the chrome breaks down in the air and turns into carbon dioxide. Also, there are other particulates that let loose into the air as soon as the electrolysis process starts. For these reasons, we only conduct electrolysis in a well-ventilated area such as the fume vent hood. This is also why we can’t let the wires touch; if they bump into each other they have the chance to spark. Should that spark hit the particulates in the air, there’s a chance that it could cause an explosion.
8. Plug in the battery and turn it on. The gauge on top is for voltage; the gauge on the bottom is for amperage. 15V/0.70A works well for heavier/thicker artifacts; for smaller/thinner artifacts, 12V/0.45A works. You may increase or decrease the voltage/amperage as you monitor the process. A good hint that the electrolysis is working is seeing the artifact “fizz”. The “fizzing”, “bubbling”, or whichever adjective you want to use to describe it, is the visual demonstration of the electrolytic reaction in action. Supposedly, the more the artifact is fizzing, the more effective the electrolysis. Be mindful of how high the voltage is; monitor the electrolysis closely. After a few hours, the water will turn get cloudy and orange-brown; this is a good sign that the electrolysis is working, but it keeps you from looking at the artifact. You can check the artifact’s progress by turning the battery off and taking the artifact out of the water. Use common sense – remember to not let the clips, wires, cathodes or anodes touch each other. Wear the rubber gloves that are provided when you’re playing around in the electrolysis bath water. 

   

   Electrolysis in action. Note the fizzing. 

9. The electrolysis process takes anywhere between a few hours to a couple of full days, depending on the size of the artifact and how many you’ve got in the bath at once. The iron artifacts are ready to be taken out once they have turned a slick black or dull silver color. When you take the artifacts out, turn off the battery first and unhook everything. Rinse the artifact(s) in a bit of distilled water. Pat dry with a towel.
10. You may notice bits of stubborn rust still attached to the artifact. It’s a good idea to use the Dremel again to get rid of those tough spots. You might need to rinse it again in the distilled water after that.
11. Next, you’ll need to boil the artifact in distilled water. The application of heat and repeated rinsing of distilled water helps the artifact become “stabilized”; i.e., it’ll lose the rest of the oxidized bits that are still embedded within the metal. Full the pot with distilled water, enough to cover the artifact completely. Put the artifact inside, and bring the water to a boil. Let the pot simmer for 3-4 hours.
12. Once the artifact has been stabilized in the water, it should be a nice shiny black or shiny silver color. At this point, you need to wear gloves or use tongs when handling the artifacts; the oil on your hands can cause the metal to start rusting again. It is imperative to begin the baking process immediately after taking the artifact out of the water. Set your oven to 200, and let the artifact bake for 3-4 hours. If you can’t finish it all at once, let it bake for at least an hour; you can finish the baking the next day. When the baking is done, wrap the artifact in tin foil and set in an air-tight container. [INSERT PICTURES]
13. At this point, you can let the artifact(s) hang out in the air-tight container. This might allow you to work on several artifacts at once. Alter the process according to the amount of artifacts that you have to work on, in a way that makes sense.
14. Coating the artifacts is the final step. We use micro-crystalline wax polish made by Renaissance™ to coat our newly cleaned artifacts. The purpose for this is to help keep the stabilized artifacts from getting oxidized again. Apply a conservative amount of the wax to a paper/shop towel, and buff the artifact gently with the wax. The wax should dry almost instantly. Note: The wax smells bad. Like, REALLY bad. Do the waxing process from within a well-ventilated area.

    

    After electrolysis and wax.

15. Store the stabilized and polished artifacts in a cool, dry place. It would be ideal to keep them in a place that is temperature-controlled. You’ll need to check on them every now and again, to make sure they aren’t oxidizing again. 

    

    This was found on the underside of the cultivator sweep. Nok-On was a company that made agricultural equipment and machinery in the 1980s. We couldn't see this under all of the rust!

Other Resources on Electrolysis and Iron Artifact Curation – Video Links and Notes

As I learned the electrolytic reduction process, it helped me to watch a couple of relevant videos online, just so that I could see how other folks did their own electrolysis / to see the process in action before I tried it myself. Here are a few video links, including my notes on them, that might help others as they’re learning this lab technique.

Richard Gessford, an antique collector, made a video on using electrolysis for cleaning a cast iron muffin pan that was made circa 1870. His process is really simple; he used a five gallon bucket, 1/c cup of Arm & Hammer baking soda, a portable battery, and a pair of jumper cables. He used a steel strip as the sacrificial anode; the positive jumper cable is attached to the steel strip. The negative jumper cable was attached to the muffin pan, which was suspended in the bucket via a wooden dowel and metal hook. He stressed that you should never let the negative and positive cables nor the sacrificial strip and the muffin pan touch. He let each side of the muffin pan stay in the electrolysis bath for two hours per side. He stresses that good ventilation is important during the electrolysis process.

An important thing to note is that Gessford used water from his garden hose to fill up his bucket (his electrolysis bath). Fun fact – tap water/city water contains chlorides, which help cause metal objects to rust. As indicated in Lauren’s notes, you should use only distilled water for the electrolysis bath. Dry brush or clean artifacts with distilled water before the electrolysis process, if it’s necessary.

He pointed out that sometimes, stubborn oxidation stays within the nooks and crannies of the iron object after the electrolysis process is done; his methodology for getting rid of the stubborn rust was to let the iron object sit inside of his oven, which was set at about 400 degrees Fahrenheit (presumably, to let it dry out), and then using a metal brush to sort of scrub the rust away. I assume that using a Dremel to get rid of the stubborn oxidation should probably do the trick. He also mentioned that putting it inside of the electrolysis bath for a while longer could also help. His video is here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XlsNucmbiE

               

                At the archaeological museum at Historic Jamestown, the curators use a variety of different techniques for conserving iron artifacts. Although we do not have access to most of these techniques in our lab here at CMU, it’s kind of cool to watch them in action. Processes include x-ray, air abrading, and special desiccation techniques.

                The part of the video that does cover electrolysis is short and is sort of lacking in terms of its usefulness as a tutorial, but it exhibits a couple of differences from the video above that I think might be good to note here. Both the artifact (the negative cathode) and the sacrificial steel strip (the positive anode) were suspended via metal wire, which was attached to metal rods. The cables were clamped onto the metal rods. The curator of archaeology mentioned that they were inside of a solution that contained 3% sodium carbonate. The video can be located here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcFAxXJCxLQ

The archaeology lab at Historic Jamestown came out with another video in 2015 that covers their iron conservation process in a slightly more in-depth way. Their whole conservation process is rather lengthy; it begins with the electrolytic reduction, in which multiple artifacts are suspended in the sodium chloride solution via metal wire, which is clamped onto a wooden dowel that is wrapped in more metal wire. From what I could tell from the video, the negative charge was clamped onto the wire-covered dowel.

After the electrolysis process is done at Historic Jamestown, the artifacts are air-abraded – basically, it’s a miniature sand blaster that gets all of the extra corrosion off of the metal artifact. After the air abrading, the artifacts are soaked in deionized water for 4-6 weeks (or longer, depending on the size of the artifact), to “electrically neutralize” them. Then, the artifacts are placed into an oven at 300 degrees Fahrenheit, in order to rid the artifacts of any extra moisture. The artifacts are then coated and curated inside of their “dry room” – a temperature- and humidity-controlled room at the museum. The video is here:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JR2GilP7N74

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Things I wish I took more seriously before going to graduate school...

The anthropology club at my alma mater did a panel for undergraduate students, which involved consulting anthropology alumni from the university. The first panel was about graduate school, and the second is about jobs (I'll post one about that later). They requested my participation in the panel. Since I couldn't be there in person, I was requested to prepare a short essay-like document that outlined my personal experience as a graduate student, as well as any tips or advice. While I'm not great at giving advice, I thought that highlighting my experiences and what I felt were important would be okay. After I sent it off to the anthropology club, one of my old professors contacted me. She felt that what I wrote would in fact be helpful for undergraduates. If students found it useful at the panel, then others might find it useful online; so I edited it and posted it on here.  

First, I’ll start with a brief bio of myself to provide context. I graduated with my BA in anthropology from Eastern Michigan University (EMU); I started graduate school at Central Michigan University (CMU) this fall. During the last couple of semesters of my undergraduate degree, I worked full-time as an archaeologist in cultural resource management at the [unnamed CRM firm], Inc. After I graduated, I was offered a permanent position at the company as a crew lead and laboratory director; I had to step down from that position when I started graduate school, but I am on their list and they still hire me for short projects.

I feel as though I got a valuable undergraduate education, and the classes I took equally prepared me for work and graduate school. Still, there are quite a few things that I wish I’d known or taken more seriously when I started graduate school. As I write this, I feel as though I need to add a disclaimer: not everyone who went/is still going through graduate school have experienced the same things as I have. Additionally, please bear in mind that none of the things that I’m writing are meant to be discouraging to new graduate students. I feel that there are problems within academia and since graduate students work closely with universities, those problems become issues for students as well. Here’s a list of things that I wish I had known or taken more seriously (in no particular order):

1)      Self care: You are worth more than your productivity. Within academia, there’s this “grind until you die” mentality and it simply does not work. First, if you’re ill and you go to class anyway, not only are you preventing yourself from getting better faster but you put your classmates and professors at risk of getting sick. Most professors are very understanding on that issue, although I have heard of instances in which they are not. Secondly: I’m still new to graduate school, but I know that my mental health affects my work. Graduate classes are way more rigorous than undergraduate classes are; expectations and workloads are way higher. Therefore, the higher the stakes, the higher the stress. Although I’m good at managing stress, there’s other things that I need to work on. For example, my depression gets worse during the winter; in order to stay on top of my studies, I need to keep my mental health in check. Furthermore, I’m only two and a half hours away from my family, friends, and partner, but the increased responsibilities that I now have as a grad student make it difficult for me to visit them. I miss them a lot; I often feel homesick. For me, being away from loved ones makes adjusting to grad school – and managing my depression – much harder. Everyone’s mental health is different, and thus everyone handles it differently; still, the point remains that if you’re having mental health issues, you can’t simply sweep them under the rug. Trust me – take care of your mental health first and foremost, before it gets worse.

2)      There is no strict timeline for graduation (this applies to undergraduate degrees too). The main goal of master’s programs is to have students out in two - two and a half years at the most. While that’s an excellent goal to have, the reality is that life happens. One of my supervisors at work took five years to finish her MA; it took me six years to finish my BA; it took one of my professors eight years to finish his PhD. Those who take longer to graduate absolutely should not feel ashamed for doing so.

3)      Funding is important. Graduate school is incredibly expensive, especially if you have to pay out-of-state tuition. Most graduate programs have funding available for new students; these come in the form of teaching assistantships and research assistantships. I applied for and was awarded for an assistantship that blends both teaching and research assisting; I help teach undergrads how to identify and catalog artifacts in a laboratory setting, and I do research work for my adviser/the university. A “full-time” assistantship usually requires 20 hours/week (which, on top of your classwork and personal research, is actually a lot to juggle). Full-time assistantships usually offer a tuition waiver – essentially, if you sign up for the waiver, your tuition is paid for. Also, most assistantships offer benefits like health insurance. Honestly, the only reason I can be in graduate school right now is because I won that assistantship. I will be paying off my undergrad loans for the rest of my life; I don’t even want to think about the debt that I will accumulate from my MA. A mentor of mine suggested that if you’re trying to get into a PhD program and the university does not fund you, then they probably don’t want you that badly.

4)      The GRE is classist and it’s a huge waste of money. I know that that’s a staunch opinion, but there’s reasons behind it. It’s an average of $250 to take, and you can only take it at certain locations. Luckily for new undergrads, a lot of universities are dropping the GRE requirement due to the fact that it’s inaccessible for most students to take, and the test doesn’t actually do much to prove a student’s worth. Unfortunately, though, many graduate programs do require you to take it in order to get into their university. 99% of the graduate schools on my list in Michigan required the GRE. While I’m glad that I chose CMU for many other reasons, one of the main motivating factors for applying there was because they do not require the test. If the program you want does require the GRE, there are a multitude of resources online that will help you study; there are also a few books out there that can help you prepare. If you fail the GRE, it does not mean that you aren’t smart enough, or that you shouldn’t pursue grad school. Don’t let a standardized test demotivate you from pursuing the advanced degree that you want.

5)      Taking time off before jumping into graduate school is not a bad idea. The only reason I started at CMU this fall was because I was accepted early; my original plan was to begin in 2020. I absolutely loved working as an archaeologist full-time; I find myself missing the work and my colleagues, and the paychecks were very nice. Taking a full year off school would have helped me financially prepare. However, I know myself better than that – if I chose not to go now, then I probably would end up waiting longer than I wanted to (life happens, and I am a poor procrastinator). I know many archaeologists who worked in cultural resource management (CRM) for a while before pursuing an advanced degree. This is an excellent route to take, especially if you plan on staying in CRM. If going to grad school right after you graduate from EMU is your goal, you should absolutely pursue it. My point is that it’s not a huge deal if you choose to wait.

6)      Pursuing a specialization right away is good, but it’s not absolutely necessary. When I graduated with my BA, I had a very niche specialization in mind: I wanted to study pottery. Fortunately, I was able to begin pursuing that during my undergrad (bless Ensor’s heart for unleashing me in the lab), and it really helped me later on. When I was hired by [unnamed CRM firm], I was originally hired to do pottery analysis; I’m still their on-call ceramic analyst. However, if you don’t have a specialization yet, don’t worry about it. In most cases it helps a lot to have one, but the reality is that most archaeology students don’t form a niche research interest until late into their undergrad or after they start graduate school. You have a little time to figure out what really interests you.  

As I stated before, none of this is meant to deter anyone from considering an advanced degree. Rather, these are some things that students should think about. Most careers in anthropology require an advanced degree, such as an MA, MS or PhD. For archaeologists, getting an MA/MS will help you obtain a permanent staff position (with benefits!), as well as better pay. Considering all of that, I think getting an advanced degree is certainly worth it. Students need to prepare themselves, though, for the challenges. Like I said before: juggling work, classwork and studying, health and family life is a difficult task in graduate school. When looking for graduate programs, think about the location; will you live on-campus, or off-campus (and how expensive will each one be)? Does the program offer funding (and does that funding offer benefits)? What kind of specialization are you looking for (if one at all)? I chose CMU because their CRM MA program is inter-disciplinary; archaeology students are required to take the archaeology courses, but they are also required to take museums and public history courses. I really wanted to combine my interests in historic preservation, archaeology, and museums in a grad program, and I’m certainly able to do it at there. Furthermore, I am able to continue my specialization as a ceramicist by applying my skills as well as developing new ones. CMU is also an excellent place to learn more about Great Lakes history; as a Great Lakes archaeologist, I find that rather useful. Ultimately, it all comes down to what exactly you’re interested in, even if your interests are still vague. Sometimes it takes a little time to figure shit out, and that's okay. 

Examples of Public Archaeology and Historic Preservation in Michigan

                Historical preservation and archaeology occasionally make their way into the news, which is actually an ideal situation for both fields. We desperately want and need the public to know about what we’re doing, and news outlets such as online newspapers and social media, for example, are fantastic platforms for that. An example that I’ll provide in this post is that of the Warner Pioneer Homestead and the Hicks School, which received a bit of local media attention in recent years. Then, I’ll write a short blurb about Michigan Archaeology Day, which is an amazing public archaeology event held in Lansing every year.

Tim Bennett’s family has worked on a couple of large excursions in historic preservation and archaeology: the Hicks one-room schoolhouse and the Warner family homestead, which are now both situated in Brighton, Livingston County, Michigan. The Livingston Daily has covered these projects in detail, but only one is mentioned in this paper: “Hicks Schoolhouse Arrives Safe at New Home”, published on June 8^th, 2016. The original location of the school was near the town of Pinkney, Michigan, and was owned by David Keller. Keller decided that he wanted to use the property as a site for building duplexes, so the historic building was in danger of getting destroyed. Keller stated, “I love history and think it's important. . . . I preferred that it have a historical use" (Eberbach 2016). He offered to donate the schoolhouse structure to anyone, as long as they could move it and restore it. Tim Bennett, a local archaeologist, took Keller up on his offer. The schoolhouse now sits on the same site as the historic Warner Homestead, which has been in Bennett’s family for over 175 years (Bennett 2016).

                Physically moving the school from its original property was a challenge in itself; the roof had to be removed in order to move the property to the Warner farmstead. Much of the roof actually had to be reproduced after the move (Bennett 2016). However, the Bennett family is trying as hard as they can to keep the Hicks school in its original condition. According to Tyler et al (2009: 194), restoration is an intervention process that involves “returning a building to its condition at a specific time period, often to its original condition”. The decision to restore a building rather than preserve it should be a careful one, as a structure’s “natural evolution” can be lost. However, if the building in question has had a significant historical past, restoration can be perfectly justified (Tyler et al 2009: 194). The Hicks schoolhouse was the main source of education for the community for at least 170 years, so restoration was, therefore, justified. Restoration specialist Randy Klepinger and his company, Klepinger Construction, were hired to head the restoration process (Bennett 2016).  Additionally, the original schoolhouse property was excavated archaeologically by Bennett, in order to learn more about the materials that were used during the building’s use. The site’s artifacts will be displayed inside of the school, once the reconstruction is complete. Several of the area’s residents have also donated items that were from the original site (Bennett 2016).

                As mentioned previously, the Hicks Schoolhouse now resides on the same property as the Warner farm and homestead, which has been in Tim Bennett’s family for over a hundred years. Like the Hicks School, the Greek Revival Warner home has been restored to its original condition as far as possible. When Bennett bought the property years ago, the house was in such bad shape that restoration efforts were justified (Bennett, personal communication 2017). Tim Bennett and his family live there part-time, while they work on the restoration of the house as well as archaeologically excavating the yard. Every year, a sixth grade class from University Liggett School in Grosse Point visit the site, to learn about the historic home and the Hicks School, as well as the history of the area, and what pioneer life was like. The students also participate in an archaeological “dig”, in which they learn hands-on some of the aspects of archaeological research (Eberbach 2016; Bennett 2016). With its move from one site to another, the Hicks School has been taken out of its original historic context. Sometimes the students get confused about why the Hicks School is on the same site as the Warner farm (Tim Bennett, personal communication 2017). At any rate, both the Hicks School and the Warner homestead are great pieces of Michigan history, and overall, restoring both buildings has been beneficial to the public. Although neither the Hicks School site nor the Warner Homestead are registered on the National Register for Historic Places in Michigan, both original sites are registered as archaeological sites through the SHPO of Michigan. The Bennett family run a website for the Warner Homestead: http://www.warnerhomestead.com/

                I volunteered with the Bennet family a few times – once at the Hicks School site in Pinkney (after the school was moved), and twice for the student dig at the Warner Homestead (2016 and 2017). Although I’m not very experienced with public archaeology yet, the experiences that I gained during the student digs were incredibly rewarding. Being sixth graders, the kids are always inquisitive – they ask questions, sometimes in ways that you wouldn’t expect. During the dig, we helped them learn what artifacts looked like, what they were used for, their significance, etc. Maybe, one day, one of them will be tempted to enter the field of archaeology because of this experience.

                Since I’m talking about public archaeology, I think it’s key to bring up Michigan Archaeology Day. Each October, this huge event is held at the Michigan History Center in Lansing, MI. The event typically lasts all day, and it is sponsored by the MSHDA (Michigan State Housing Development Authority), the Michigan SHPO (State Historic Preservation Office), the Michigan DNR (Department of Natural Resources), and the Michigan History Center. During this event, archaeologists from all over the state of Michigan – advocational, academic, and professional cultural resource management archaeologists alike – set up tables that display their research. There are usually three or more presentations going on as well in the auditorium. Outside, visitors can try their hand at throwing an atlatl (a wooden device that Indigenous peoples used to throw spears over considerable distances) at decoy deer. The event is free to the public, and there’s an average of 1000 people who attend each year. An event like this is incredibly important – regular, every-day people come to learn about the archaeological process, what to do if they find artifacts, and the like.

Tim Maze and myself at Michigan Archaeology Day

                Universities in Michigan that have undergrad and graduate programs in anthropology and archaeology also have tables at the event, at which they display the qualities that their programs have to offer, as well as showing off the research that their students have done. On Michigan Archaeology Day in 2018, students from Eastern Michigan University (namely the EMU Anthropology Club) attended and set up one of these tables. Tim Maze, Dr. Brad Ensor, and I put together posters that outlined what the archaeology field school does, how and why archaeologists do what they do, as well as presented aspects of our individual research. 

Examples of what our posters looked like 

We also brought in artifacts to show the visitors – artifact reproductions, as well as “the real deal” – to use as tools to help teach them about material and functional categories. To do this, we set the artifacts up with a game; on one end of the table, we prompted visitors to sort Pre-Contact artifacts by their material category. These artifacts included actual stone debitage (stone flakes that were byproducts of stone tool manufacture), pottery sherds, fire-cracked rock, and reproductions of projectile points. On the other end of the table were historical artifacts and artifact reproductions, and we prompted visitors to separate them by functional categories. These artifacts included square nails, window glass (fake plastic version – we don’t want kids to handle sharp objects), ceramic sherds, broken glass stemware (again, the less dangerous plastic version), and tableware (an antique spoon). The functional categories included architecture and food service. The goal of the game was to help teach visitors what artifacts look like, what materials they’re made of/how they were made, and what the artifacts were ultimately used for.

                Michigan Archaeology Day is an event for all ages. There were equally as many kids as there were adults who visited our table, and both age groups seemed to at least learn something from participating in our artifact challenge.

We also wanted folks to get an idea of how and why we do fieldwork. On our table, we set out the common “tools of the trade” – tape measures, unit level forms, shovel test paperwork, trowels, etc. On our posters, we displayed photos and maps of the sites that the Eastern Michigan University Archaeology Field School investigated, as well as brief descriptions of the various field and lab methods that took place.

The EMU Anthropology Club

 References:

Bennett, Tim.
2016. Hicks School. Electronic document, http://warnerhomestead.com/hicks_school. Accessed 18 September 2017. 

Eberbach, Jennifer.
2016. Kids Excavate Hicks One-Room School’s New Home. Electronic document, http://www.livingstondaily.com/story/news/local/community/brighton-township/2016/09/17/kids-excavate-hicks-one-room-schools-new-home/90266158/. Accessed 19 September 2017.

Eberbach, Jennifer.
2016. Hicks Schoolhouse Arrives Safe at New Home. Electronic document, http://www.livingstondaily.com/story/news/local/community/brighton-township/2016/06/08/hicks-schoolhouse-arrives-safe-new-home/85611928/. Accessed 18 September 2017.

Tyler, Norman, Ted J. Ligibel, and Ilene R. Tyler.
2009. Historic Preservation: an Introduction to its History, Principles, and Practice, pp. 194. W. W. Norton & Company, New York, New York.