Week 8

Before I began my current venture at SEMO, I purchased Public History: Essays from the Field in order to familiarize myself with the issues Public Historians face professionally. I had recently graduated from Lindenwood University, so I had a lot of time on my hands (I guess you could say I was trying to fill the void in my life left by my recent graduation, considering that no sane person would read this book for pleasure).  Being a virtual tyro to the archival profession, I decided it would be best to begin with the chapter on archivists and records managers. As I began reading the chapter, I was shocked by the revelation that archivists did not save every scrap of paper in their possession. I guess I had originally envisioned an archivist as someone like my Grandma Luecke: A nasty, bitter old hag obsessively hoarding documents for no logical purpose. Thankfully, this chapter fundamentally altered my initial misconceptions.

Since then, I have had several remarkable people mentor me as I attempt to improve my knowledge-base and skills. Unfortunately, I have encountered several archivists throughout the years who have not had the same opportunities afforded to me. For instance, I was visiting an archival institution several weeks ago and noticed a stack of newspapers lying on the table. When I asked the assistant archivist about the newspapers, he informed me that he had accepted them as a donation from a patron. This struck me as an odd decision until I remembered that this was the same person who thought nothing of bringing his dirty dog into the stacks on the weekends. I decided it would be best to say nothing at all.

Based upon this experience, I sometimes wonder if the profession still has much more to do to improve standards in the field. Currently, the profession does not seem to have an established set of criteria for the education required for professionals. Although the Society of American Archivists recommends that students pursue a Master’s degree, this varies from advanced degrees in Public History to Library Science. Hopefully, as the public begins to understand the importance of what archivists do, the profession will be able to standardize educational requirements.  

      

I hate you, Lawrence Welk

As most of you may recall, I had somewhat of a knee-jerk reaction towards the topic of Disney and the convergence of entertainment and education yesterday. I guess a part of me kept thinking back to my horrifying summer vacations with my grandpa and grandma Luecke during the 1990s. My grandma’s idea of the perfect mix of education and entertainment were 19^th century German immigrant villages in Wisconsin. These “historic villages” were nothing more than glorified clip joints staffed by twenty something heifers dancing in inaccurate period costumes to the groovy sounds of Lawrence Welk (I still throw up a little in the back of my mouth whenever I think back to those dark times). This somehow satisfied my Grandma’s demented sense of historic authenticity as she rummaged for junk in the gift shop to purchase and obsessively hoard. So I guess I have some issues concerning my grandmother and historic sites that will require a combination of Jack Daniels and an expensive therapist.

Fortunately, Joyce Thierer and John Salicco provide an intriguing way to merge entertainment and education that avoids Disney’s crass commercialism; not to mention my grandma’s batshit crazy ideas regarding history. Salicco correctly notes that most families visit living history museums to entertain their children while exposing them to educational activities. Children become quickly entranced as they witness staff recreate historic manufacturing processes and battles. While this has the potential to devolve into a glorified show-and-tell session, skilled interpreters are able to transform these activities into teachable moments that are relevant to the lives of their patrons. For example, a blacksmith could take the opportunity to discuss problems including forgery (identity theft) or the proliferation of horse manure in the streets (pollution). When interpreters embrace these methods, they are essentially adopting the same strategies educators employ in their classrooms. Children—and most adults—will not participate in learning activities just for the sake of absorbing new facts. They desire activities that are relevant and applicable to their everyday experiences.

Of course, Thierer notes that some dangers exist with this method. The majority of volunteers and employees at historic sites do not have a sufficient grasp of the historic context of the period they are interpreting. While some interpreters attempt to expand their knowledge-base, many become absorbed with the accuracy of their appearance, thereby missing the purpose of historic interpretation entirely. However, Meghan was correct to point out that even these superficial interpretations have the potential to inspire patrons to research historical topics independently. Maybe academic and public historians should fully embrace these methods and avoid the extremes of Disney and Lawrence Welk inspired German immigrant Villages. One can only hope.  

Week five or six...I am beginning to lose count.

                 My aunt once told my mother how much she enjoyed watching Gone with the Wind as a child and hoped to one day introduce the film to her children because of “the history.” Apparently, my aunt believes Gone with Wind accurately portrays the antebellum south as a blissful, bygone era where slaves and their masters lived harmoniously before those pesky northerners had to ruin all the fun. First, let me say this: I thank God every night that my relationship with my aunt is only by law. I wish I could say the same thing about several other branches of my family tree. Having said that, I also realize the majority of Americans consume history in the same fashion as my aunt. It is not that these people are stupid; instead, they consciously seek those museums or attractions that reinforce their version of American history. For the majority of Americans, this happens to be a hyper-nationalistic commemoration of the past, rather than an honest reflection and debate. Throughout the history of the United States, museums and historic sites have responded to these “market forces” by crafting a narrative that, while not necessarily true, satisfies their customer base.   In all honesty, “Mickey Mouse history” existed long before Walt created America’s favorite rodent.

               I realize the previous paragraph contradicts statements from my earlier posts. However, this week’s readings and Marla’s cogent observations have led me to revise my earlier beliefs. For example, the majority of Wallace’s article focuses on how corporations sponsoring Disney’s EPCOT center ingeniously borrowed from the 1939 World’s Fair formula, combining the industrial exposition with the carnival, creating an attraction that celebrated consumption and the march of progress with corporate entities at the helm. In the world according to EPCOT, history is simply a gallery of prominent men and the inventions they created. One need not worry about the problems currently plaguing humankind like pollution or world hunger, these ingenious inventors and their corporate benefactors will eventually solve them. While many historians decry this top-down approach, one cannot deny that a large segment of the public craves for this narrative. Disney would be bankrupt if this were not the case.  

               While many concerned citizens and advocacy groups claim to abhor Disney’s sanitized version of history, they frequently employ the same rhetoric and strategies to defend what they consider “sacred ground.” In essence, they create their own sanitized history to compete with what they consider “Mickey Mouse” history; one need look no farther than the Republican party to understand what I am talking about. Conservatives like Newt Gingrich frequently excoriate Disney’s portrayal of American History, yet the best they can offer is their own finite narrative.  From this point, the debate frequently devolves into something akin to a competition between McDonalds and Burger King, with both sides peddling variations of the same greasy shit.

               Therefore, I have become doubtful about my earlier suggestions that public historians compromise and listen to the other side to resolve this problem. It appears the other side does not want to reach a compromise: Museums and historical sites will either provide the “product” their patrons want, or they will take their dollars elsewhere. While one can hope that providing alternatives to the standard narratives will attract the public, I am afraid America’s hubris may be too much to overcome. Wallace does provide some intriguing alternatives such as providing exhibits decoding the historical narratives disseminated by Disney. Patrons might respond positively to these exhibits, investigating how Disney and others present the past.

In the meantime, I will have to be satisfied with smaller victories. Recently, my Grandma Luecke was regurgitating the standard narrative provided by conservative historians that the 1940s and 1950s represented a time when Americans had high standards of morality. My grandpa, irritated, finally looked at me and said: “Your grandma is full of shit. There was the same amount of whoring and boozing then as there is today; people just kept it quite back then.” I guess I will take what I can get. Go Grandpa.