My last two days in the Kiplinger Research Library involved
the deployment of my skills as a public historian for the incoming freshman
class at American University. Using the holdings of the Historical Society of
Washington, D.C. (HSW), Collections Director Anne McDonough and I sought to
connect the students to the history and culture of their newly-adopted city.
Anne chose several items from the collection to highlight city residents as
activists, as witnesses, and as recorders of history. The young visitors
searched for the answers to fifteen questions that touched on the history of their
school and surrounding neighborhoods using real estate maps, city directories,
photographs, oral histories, Washington
History articles, and other resources. We ended each of the four sessions
by encouraging the students to use their time in the city to become involved
and find their place as Washingtonians.
As I neared the end of my time at HSW, I began to reflect on
the role of historical societies in modern communities. How will these
organizations, created based on nineteenth century sensibilities of historical
scholarship, adapt to a twenty-first century model of inclusion and engagement?
A widely-criticized video included in HSW’s short-lived City Museum of
Washington inadvertently illustrated the danger of handling the evolution
insensitively. The multi-media show Washington Stories, described by its creator Barbara Franco as “Monty
Python meets Cirque de Soleil,” presented a personification of stodgy, outdated
historical thinking in the character of grey-haired docent Penelope Inkster
whose lecture is repeatedly interrupted by the off-screen voice of a young
Washingtonian with a more nuanced story to tell about the city’s history.
Although the presentation was intended to be humorous, many viewers found it
insulting.[1]
In seeking to engage new audiences, historical societies can risk alienating
the people who have traditionally supported them. Washington Stories was not the sole reason that the City Museum
failed, but its edgy approach was not the draw for visitation that Franco had
hoped.
I studied two articles about historical societies to get a
sense of the direction that such institutions are taking to remain relevant. In
“Learning from Lester: Some Reflections on Historical Societies,” written in
1985, Gerald George invents a fictional president of the Old Hickory Historical
Society to enlighten academics with down-home wisdom from historical
amateurs who keep the local organizations going. Lester and others like him got
interested in history through genealogy and believe that a historical society
exists “to keep track of the history of this place for the people who live in
it, because that makes it the most important place in their lives right now.”
Lester is not interested in connecting local history to the wider American
story or to the latest historical scholarship, as the City Museum attempted to
do. He believes his society is serving the community at large by “respecting
human experience” and providing “an honest judgment about what’s worth keeping”
among available artifacts given sparse resources and staff. With membership
limited to those local residents who can make the required commitment of time,
talent, and treasure—usually middle-class retired professionals—the question is
raised whether all experience is equally valued and all aspects of the
community history represented using such a model.[2]
More than twenty-five
years later, Louise Mirrer had a more expansive view of the role of historical
societies. In “Making History Matter: The New-York Historical Society’s Vision
for the Twenty-First Century,” Mirrer chronicled her role as the president of
the New-York Historical Society (N-YHS) in transforming the museum exhibits to
place New York City within the national narrative, turning the N-YHS into an
educational resource of constitutional history. Because of its location within
the cultural landscape of an international destination, Mirrer decided that the
best way to compete with both the larger, better-known museums and the
specialized niche museums in the city was to create an institutional identity
that would be useful and appealing to locals and tourists alike. The society
determined that their brand would be “American history as seen through the prism
of New York.”[3]
The HSW faces a similar challenge of defining their identity
in a city that is not only home to the Smithsonian museums but also includes
premier research institutions such as the National Archives, George Washington
University, and the Washingtoniana collection at the D.C. Public Library. The subject
of marketing what makes HSW distinctive was discussed during a Collections
Committee meeting that I attended. While it was agreed that the collections
focus primarily on architecture, local businesses, and families, there was no
consensus on the best way to communicate this niche with the general public. Even
more elusive are the best strategies for employing the archival resources in
community outreach. However a historical society decides to concentrate its
efforts, the work will be for naught if the community it serves does not view
its mission as valuable and worthy of support.
It is in the interest of those of us who care about Washington, D.C.
history that the Historical Society of Washington, D.C. continues to develop its presence in the city and to shape its
character as a valuable institution to the community.
[1]
Peter Liebhold, “The Washington City Museum: Review,” Public Historian 26 no. 4 (Fall 2004), 79-81.
[2]
Gerald George, “Learning from Lester: Some Reflections on Historical Societies,”
Public Historian 7, no. 4 (Fall
1985), 65-70.
[3]
Louise Mirrer, “Making History Matter: The New York Historical Society’s Vision
for the Twenty-First Century” The Public Historian
33, no. 3 (August 2011), 90-94.
