A coin bank teaches children something about the future before they even realize it.
You put something away today for something you might want tomorrow.
The rocket-ship form adds another layer of childhood imagination. Saving money and dreaming about space could exist in the same small object.
American Material Memory is full of these intersections between ordinary life and childhood possibility. A coin bank wasn’t merely a place to store change. It could represent independence, anticipation, and a child’s belief that something exciting might be waiting ahead.
From the Artist:
What I remember about this bank was that I broke off the firing pin, which looked like a little bomb, while launching something other than coins.
I eventually threw away the little red rubber feet caps because I didn’t think they were cool.
When we moved from Algonac to St. Clair, a lot of my things were boxed and went into my closet. I never opened the boxes until I came back from college. That’s when I realized my bank had disappeared along with all of my 1968 signed Tigers baseball cards, which included Denny McLain, Willie Horton, Mickey Stanley, and Al Kaline.
I had ‘em all. Then we moved, I went to college, and my stuff vanished…
A coin bank teaches children something about the future before they even realize it.
You put something away today for something you might want tomorrow.
The rocket-ship form adds another layer of childhood imagination. Saving money and dreaming about space could exist in the same small object.
American Material Memory is full of these intersections between ordinary life and childhood possibility. A coin bank wasn’t merely a place to store change. It could represent independence, anticipation, and a child’s belief that something exciting might be waiting ahead.
From the Artist:
What I remember about this bank was that I broke off the firing pin, which looked like a little bomb, while launching something other than coins.
I eventually threw away the little red rubber feet caps because I didn’t think they were cool.
When we moved from Algonac to St. Clair, a lot of my things were boxed and went into my closet. I never opened the boxes until I came back from college. That’s when I realized my bank had disappeared along with all of my 1968 signed Tigers baseball cards, which included Denny McLain, Willie Horton, Mickey Stanley, and Al Kaline.
I had ‘em all. Then we moved, I went to college, and my stuff vanished…
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