This week we covered some interesting materials in our readings. First, I was introduced to the Statement of Principles for archivists. It is literally a list of principles in how to archive, maintain, and label records and collections. This listing was informative in really getting to the processing of archiving. It's almost best compared to an hors d'oeuvres: just a sampling, leaving you hungry for more. It was the perfect place to start for the rest of the readings.
Next, I dove into Roy H. Tryon's Archivists and Records Managers. Of the two essays, I'm glad that I started with this first. Written in the late 1990's, Tryon's essay gives a short history of the AHA (American Historical Association,) of which sprung the SAA (Society of American Archivists, ca. 1936,) and from them came the ARMA (American Records Management Association, ca. 1956.) In addition, he compares and contrasts the duties of archivists and records managers: how they work together, how they don't work together, and how they depend on one another.
A concern for them, as Tryon states, is that the digital age is taking over; presenting an ever increasing problem for archivists and record managers to maintain their current systems, while attempting to transition into newer technologies. He further states, that with technology there comes a need to show why their job is important and should be retained. It is a challenge for their work, but one it seems they are working hard to meet, as evidenced by the next article.
The 2013 presidential address of the SAA sitting president, Gregor Trinkaus-Randall. Randall explains in his address their success, their works-in-progress, and their over all goals. He encourages archivists to continue their work, make themselves public, and engage with their communities. The concern of import of position addressed by Tryon, is again addressed some 20 years later. Randall closes by stating that archivists have been given this image of people in dusty backrooms and moldy basements, caring for records and archives of equal decay. He directs the archivists to again engage with their communities, promote their collections, and challenge the image that has been bestowed on them.
Ultimately, this week was very interesting for me. For those who haven't figured it out, my passion lies in the built environment, particular vernacular building. Archivists are a job class that I had forgotten about. Shame on me. During my undergrad, current genealogical research, and preparation for presentations for my current field, I have conversed with archivists and records keepers almost weekly. I know many by name that this point. Yet, I have fallen into the category that many in society do: archives are dusty backrooms and moldy basements. Now, being an historian and nerd, obviously this isn't the least off-putting to me. It is, however, a misrepresentation of the work these professionals do every day. While my intent is not to go into archives, I do strongly encourage those who are to take Randall's advice: challenge the image and create your own.
Sources:
Hensen, Steven L. "Statement of Principles." Preface to Describing Archives: A Content Standard, Xv-Xix. Second ed. Chicago: Society of American Archivists, 2004.
Trinkaus-Randall, Gregor. "SAA Presidential Address." In Society of American Archivists Conference. Proceedings of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: The Archival Profession and Future Challenges, San Diego, California. 2012.
Tryon, Roy T. "Archivists and Records Managers." In Public History: Essays from the Field, edited by James B. Gardener and Peter S. LaPaglia, 57-74. Revised ed. Malabar: Krieger Publishing Company, 2006.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Monday, September 21, 2015
Word of Mouth
No assigned books to read for now. This week is a review of Oral History, or more precisely, the best practices of an Oral Historian.
We were given quite a few sources to read over. The main one being an excerpt from Public History: Essays from the Field titled Oral Historians: Community Oral History and the Cooperative Ideal (I'm starting to think in academia the length of the title is in direct relation to the number of letters that follow the name of the writer. Of course, that could just be me.)
The main points of this week are not only the importance of Oral History, but the importance of collecting narratives in an appropriate manner. One of the best points mentioned was that the interviewer may not agree or like what the interviewee is saying. However, it is the job of the historian to create an honest record.
That really resonates: an honest record. What does that mean? And if we're to interview people, how are we to get an honest record? To find that out, ask any lawyer, psych, or writer: the truth is subjective. The truth is what we see or perceive. Whether it is witnessed from differing angles or distances, that is still the truth as we know it to be. Therefore, our account of it would be honest, to us at least. Unfiltered, undiluted from another party.
Our job as historians is to produce that honest record. Whether the subject presents a slant that is offensive, sexist, or prejudiced. That is their truth and it is our duty to record it. Now we don't have to be ridiculous and maintain a tunnel vision in this pursuit. An individuals' truth may be discredited by historical evidence. Then it is our duty to present that, as well. Not to call out anyone as a “liar,” but to show that while others truths state one thing, fact and record show another.
Oral Historian's play an important part, though. Text cannot convey tone. That's a statement I have made countless times over the years (usually in regards to someone disliking the "tone" of my text... That's a story for another time.) With oral history we are able to not only record the account, but do so in a way that maintains that person's language, syntax, and emotions. With electronic devices so readily available now, we are able to record the sound of a person's voice. Their deep baritone, their gentle laugh, accents and unique pronunciations. These qualities in and of themselves can give so much insight into the circumstances the subject is telling about. And it is a vital piece.
Overall what I've learned this week is that Oral Historians have to play a balancing act. Present the facts, as unbiased as possible. Conduct an interview that allows the subject to give their account freely and un-coerced, but still keeping them on track of the overall goal. Maintain sound equipment, but set in a way that doesn't distract from the process. Be certain to have all forms are signed appropriately, but make the subject feel more as if you are having a chat than a legal brief.
Turns out an Oral Historian is psychologist, sociologist, historian, mediator, legal clerk, writer, and confidant. Quite a few hats to be wearing all at once. I can't help but wonder what the response would be to someone like that in my hometown. Where I come from, people will talk. It's about all there is to do there. Everybody knows everybody's story way back into their great-granddaddy and beyond. You get one of us started and eventually you will be talking to half the town before sunset. I suppose in some ways we could be considered a dream for an Oral Historian. Yet, considering all that paperwork, details, planning, researching, recording, and writing that goes into what's an everyday occurrence for them... Well, I can't help but wonder what someone like my Granny would say about all of it. "Lot of effort, yer puttin' in fer somethin' that's just word of mouth."
Gardner, James B., and Peter S. LaPaglia. "Oral Historians: Community Oral History and the Cooperative Ideal." In Public History: Essays from the Field. Malabar, FL: Krieger Pub., 1999.
Monday, September 14, 2015
Keeping Time
Keeping Time: The History and Theory of Preservation in America is a fascinating read. While admittedly, I would have picked this book up on my own, I am very glad that I have read it. (So much so, that I've now purchased it, instead of just renting it for class.)
The book's author, William J. Murtagh, does a fantastic job of presenting the history of the Historic Preservation movement and how it came to be the large field that it is today. Furthermore, he reaches into quite a few of the main branches and jobs of historians. Not only presenting those positions, but also explaining their functions and how they interact with one another, as well.
I would advise anyone who has considered a career in history to get this book. It really does help to educate about the different positions, requirements, and laws (yes, I said laws) that effect historians. (I particularly enjoyed the section on Landscape preservation.) Not to mention, getting you acquainted with the terminology. (My first week of class, I felt like everyone was speaking a different language. I think I’ve found the Rosetta Stone of the History Department.)
As a future historian, I plan to hold on to this book to use as quick reference for the various acts and legislation (listed in the back section of the book) and as useful refresher for tips and tricks in dealing with different historical assignments (i.e. the oral history culture.)
Sunday, August 30, 2015
"Popular Historymaking"
In my Intro to Public History class last week, we were asked to complete a reading assessment on The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life. When first informed that we would be required to read an entire book in the span of a week, in addition to other required readings, I panicked a little. However, once I delved into the material, I actually found it fascinating.
The book is a composite of surveys completed by the authors in early 1994. The intent was to obtain an accurate sampling of popular historymaking. During the late 1980's when the authors first discussed this idea of assessing how people interact with history, there seemed to be a general thought that historical amnesia or historical illiteracy was sweeping the nation. (1) In an attempt to accurately define the use of history in individuals lives, the others began conducting research. There was an extensive amount of pre-testing and testing that went into these surveys. Not to mention the vast amount of data presented after completion.
To some this may sound like a daunting or boring read. However, the authors convert the data to make interesting interpretations of the information. Anyone who has ever had a statistics course can understand the dedication it took to complete this research. Perhaps that in itself helps the reader develop at least a mild affection for the book.
What resulted from their dedication was that while gender, race, and location did influence the type of history individuals interacted with, it did not significantly reduce the frequency. African-Americans were more likely to be moved by historical sites and readings involving the Civil Rights Movement. Native American were more detailed and dedicated to Tribal history. Caucasian women were more likely to be involved in creating and maintaining family trees and heirlooms. Caucasian men were more likely to continue traditions and collections started by grandparents or great-grandparents. While the type of history that the individuals were engaging in did vary, the intensity or frequency showed to have little change across the board.
Obviously the book presented much more in-depth looks into each aspect. However, that is a brief version of the subject matter.
I am fascinated by both the idea to have completed the survey and the findings presented. I would be greatly interested to see this survey completed again, during this time frame. I think we would find people engaged even more frequently and with more intensity in popular history making. With the advancement of smart phones and the internet more people are viewing data at a much faster rate. Sites such as Ancestry.com offer information in seconds. And what is Facebook if not a public, electronic diary?
The research completed in this book, along with the interpretations of the data are invaluable to the field of Public History. Though the responses date from over 20 years past, it would be a logical assumption that, as mentioned before, the populous has increased their involvement and craving for popular historymaking. Engaging people in a way that allows them to feel control of and navigate through history, is the primary goal, after all. This research gives all current and future historians information on how to do just that.
Rosenzweig, Roy, and David P. Thelen. The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life. New York: Columbia University Press, 1998.
The book is a composite of surveys completed by the authors in early 1994. The intent was to obtain an accurate sampling of popular historymaking. During the late 1980's when the authors first discussed this idea of assessing how people interact with history, there seemed to be a general thought that historical amnesia or historical illiteracy was sweeping the nation. (1) In an attempt to accurately define the use of history in individuals lives, the others began conducting research. There was an extensive amount of pre-testing and testing that went into these surveys. Not to mention the vast amount of data presented after completion.
To some this may sound like a daunting or boring read. However, the authors convert the data to make interesting interpretations of the information. Anyone who has ever had a statistics course can understand the dedication it took to complete this research. Perhaps that in itself helps the reader develop at least a mild affection for the book.
What resulted from their dedication was that while gender, race, and location did influence the type of history individuals interacted with, it did not significantly reduce the frequency. African-Americans were more likely to be moved by historical sites and readings involving the Civil Rights Movement. Native American were more detailed and dedicated to Tribal history. Caucasian women were more likely to be involved in creating and maintaining family trees and heirlooms. Caucasian men were more likely to continue traditions and collections started by grandparents or great-grandparents. While the type of history that the individuals were engaging in did vary, the intensity or frequency showed to have little change across the board.
Obviously the book presented much more in-depth looks into each aspect. However, that is a brief version of the subject matter.
I am fascinated by both the idea to have completed the survey and the findings presented. I would be greatly interested to see this survey completed again, during this time frame. I think we would find people engaged even more frequently and with more intensity in popular history making. With the advancement of smart phones and the internet more people are viewing data at a much faster rate. Sites such as Ancestry.com offer information in seconds. And what is Facebook if not a public, electronic diary?
The research completed in this book, along with the interpretations of the data are invaluable to the field of Public History. Though the responses date from over 20 years past, it would be a logical assumption that, as mentioned before, the populous has increased their involvement and craving for popular historymaking. Engaging people in a way that allows them to feel control of and navigate through history, is the primary goal, after all. This research gives all current and future historians information on how to do just that.
Rosenzweig, Roy, and David P. Thelen. The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life. New York: Columbia University Press, 1998.
That One Tucker Kid
Grab a drink, sit back, and get comfortable. I'm about to tell you a story about that one Tucker kid. You know the one. The youngest girl that came from the wrong side of town. The one that was homeschooled and everyone said she wouldn't amount to much. The one that started college at 16. The one that had a baby at 19 and everyone thought they had been proven right. The one that kept fighting and graduated with a B.A. at 20. The one who, at 26, decided to go back to school for her Masters and shocked the nay-sayers all over again.
Good for her, right? Well, you might be wrong. Here she is, out of school for over six years, working 40+ hours a week, and surviving as a single parent when she suddenly decides, "Hey, I think it would be a great idea to voluntarily put myself through a few years of torture." Did I mention she was a masochist?
Still, she put in extensive time and effort to make her application as competitive as possible. Then she waited. And waited. And waited even more. Just when she was convinced she was going to be rejected, she received notice that she had been accepted to her program of choice: Public History- Historic Preservation.
She was ecstatic. She had everything planned out: when to get her texts, order her ID, pay for her parking pass. She even went to the campus the week before to figure out exactly where her classes were and how long it would take her to get to them. She might be a bit on the OCD side, but don't judge.
Even with all her planning and preparing, the first day was rough. Trying to juggle getting her son from school, to practice, then the babysitter, drive two hours, and jog up a large hill to get to class (our girl here isn't much on physical activities) was tricky, to say the least.
She accomplished it all, though. There she was sitting in class, breathing heavy and sweating, praying no one noticed the fine trembling in her hands. Then the lecture started. People were tossing out five-dollar words like they were candy at a parade. Suddenly, she went from being the big fish in a little pond, to a little, bitty fish in shark infested waters. Her notes varied from statements like, "What was I thinking?!" to "Google this term." Occasionally, there was an "Exactly what the heck does that even mean?!" thrown in. She survived, though. All three excruciating hours.
Then came Orientation which almost gave her a panic attack: extracurricular activities, GPA requirements, internships, and programs. At one point, I'm pretty sure she stopped breathing. Afterwards, she ended up in her adviser's office bordering on tears and contemplating quitting. It was only day two.
Yet, we shouldn't underestimate our girl. She took stock of herself, her goals, and exactly what she wanted to be able to say to her son about the decisions she had made in her life. So she did what she does best: she started planning.
Now, she's reading textbooks while at her son's football practice, typing papers while cooking dinner, and researching the Chicago Manual of Style while helping with math homework. Life is about rhythm. Her rhythm has quickly changed, but she's determined to catch on to the new beat.
Oh, trust me, our girl is still terrified, overwhelmed, and seriously considering heavy drinking, but she is also determined. I don't think we will be hearing the last of her anytime soon.
Good for her, right? Well, you might be wrong. Here she is, out of school for over six years, working 40+ hours a week, and surviving as a single parent when she suddenly decides, "Hey, I think it would be a great idea to voluntarily put myself through a few years of torture." Did I mention she was a masochist?
Still, she put in extensive time and effort to make her application as competitive as possible. Then she waited. And waited. And waited even more. Just when she was convinced she was going to be rejected, she received notice that she had been accepted to her program of choice: Public History- Historic Preservation.
She was ecstatic. She had everything planned out: when to get her texts, order her ID, pay for her parking pass. She even went to the campus the week before to figure out exactly where her classes were and how long it would take her to get to them. She might be a bit on the OCD side, but don't judge.
Even with all her planning and preparing, the first day was rough. Trying to juggle getting her son from school, to practice, then the babysitter, drive two hours, and jog up a large hill to get to class (our girl here isn't much on physical activities) was tricky, to say the least.
She accomplished it all, though. There she was sitting in class, breathing heavy and sweating, praying no one noticed the fine trembling in her hands. Then the lecture started. People were tossing out five-dollar words like they were candy at a parade. Suddenly, she went from being the big fish in a little pond, to a little, bitty fish in shark infested waters. Her notes varied from statements like, "What was I thinking?!" to "Google this term." Occasionally, there was an "Exactly what the heck does that even mean?!" thrown in. She survived, though. All three excruciating hours.
Then came Orientation which almost gave her a panic attack: extracurricular activities, GPA requirements, internships, and programs. At one point, I'm pretty sure she stopped breathing. Afterwards, she ended up in her adviser's office bordering on tears and contemplating quitting. It was only day two.
Yet, we shouldn't underestimate our girl. She took stock of herself, her goals, and exactly what she wanted to be able to say to her son about the decisions she had made in her life. So she did what she does best: she started planning.
Now, she's reading textbooks while at her son's football practice, typing papers while cooking dinner, and researching the Chicago Manual of Style while helping with math homework. Life is about rhythm. Her rhythm has quickly changed, but she's determined to catch on to the new beat.
Oh, trust me, our girl is still terrified, overwhelmed, and seriously considering heavy drinking, but she is also determined. I don't think we will be hearing the last of her anytime soon.
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