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.