Defining the Identity of the Historical Society

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by its creator Barbara Franco as “Monty Python meets Cirque de Soleil,” presented a personification of stodgy, outdated historical thinking in the character of grey-haired docent Penelope Inkster whose lecture is repeatedly interrupted by the off-screen voice of a young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.

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[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.

Investigating Where We Live

On July 24, I attended the opening of the exhibit Investigating Where We Live (IWWL) at the National Building Museum and was excited to see my name among those listed in the Acknowledgements panel at the gallery entrance.  

The first project I took on as I began my internship at the Historical Society of Washington, D.C. (HSW) was assisting the young people attending the five-week program research the city as they developed the exhibit design that would be their final project.  

Each year, the exhibit focuses primarily on original photography by the participants, so the research librarian and I decided to use the HSW collections created by two local photographers for the first activity. Amateur photographer John P. Wymer was a member of the Historical Society who donated the photographs he took all around the city from 1948 to 1953.  He created his documentary record of the buildings throughout the District as a hobby. William E. Barrett was a professional photographer who was hired to make a record of Washington buildings that were disappearing as the city grew and changed. He documented city life and architecture about 10 years after Wymer, in the 1960s. I selected pairs of pictures, one from each of the Wymer and Barrett Photograph Collections, taken in the Chinatown area, since the group would walk those streets when they traveled from the National Building Museum and the Carnegie Library at Mount Vernon Square. The activity worksheet that I developed invited the students to compare the two photos in terms of composition, perspective, and focus without revealing the credentials of each of the artists. After studying the quality of the photos, the participants were instructed to examine them with a historian’s eye, looking for clues that might reveal where and when the pictures were taken. The exercise, which was conducted on the second day of the program, seemed to go well; the young people were able to discern elements that improved the documentary and artistic quality of a photograph.

The second visit did not work out quite as smoothly. The adult coordinators of IWWL notified HSW by email that the group had decided that the city’s monuments and memorials would be the theme of the exhibit. They asked the research librarian to pull a sample of photographs, newspaper articles, and other items from the collection that loosely covered the East Mall, the Central Mall, and the West Mall, mentioning three structures specifically: the Grant Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial. I spent about 8 total hours of research time searching the catalog and choosing pamphlets, books, photographs, and vertical files to correspond with the request. However, once the group arrived for their appointment, the items did not appear to hold their interest. The 45 minutes allotted to research was insufficient for the participants to learn much about their subjects. Ultimately, the research conducted that day did not seem to meaningfully contribute to the final exhibit. In subsequent years, I would suggest that the IWWL group search the online catalog themselves and provide a preliminary list of items they would like to view. The research staff could then supplement the pull list based on their knowledge of the collection.

I have had the opportunity to work with other groups during their visits to HSW, although none of the other activities have been as involved as the partnership with the National Building Museum. Some, like a group of English teachers from China, came by without much advanced notice so we improvised a presentation on the fly. Others, like graduate students from Western Kentucky and George Washington University, had a defined research purpose for their visit and were easier to prepare for. I have enjoyed the opportunity to put my public history skills to work in diverse situation and finding ways to make meaningful connections with visitors to the collections and to the history of Washington, D.C.

Pictures from the Investigating Where We Live opening, including the photograph at the entrance of the exhibit which shows the participants posing on the steps of the Carnegie Library, home of the Historical Society of Washington, D.C.

An Archival Conundrum

I am nearing the finish line. At least, the finish line of uploading our backlog of photographs onto the baltimoreuprising2015.org website. When the Maryland Historical Society (MdHS) originally put out the call for photographs, they received an overwhelming response, but they had nowhere to put the astounding contributions. Contributors were instructed to send images to MdHS via dropbox. When I arrived on the scene, the Historical Society dropbox had over a thousand images shared to their account. The first things I had to do when I began my work, was download the files off dropbox to a physical hard drive and catalog each person's contributions and corresponding metadata. In a couple of days, I was able to do this. The Hard drive contained every contribution and were organized into files for each contributor. Once all of the images were stored offline and documented, I had to start uploading those images to the baltimoreuprising2015.org website.

The baltimoreuprising2015.org site is built using Omeka. Omeka is a Content Management System (CMS). Collections, series, and exhibits can all be constructed through Omeka, but it all starts with a digital archive of “items” stored on the Omeka site. For each photograph on the hard drive, I had to upload it to the website and provide the necessary metadata such as description, title, creator, date, etcetera. Making sure each image, audio file, or video is uploaded correctly, has the correct provenance information, and is organized within the archive in a way that it can be retrieved by users has been my most time consuming task.

I am pleased with the number of contributors and the magnitude of the contributions. The size of the archive is larger than my most optimistic projections at the start. It is not enough, however, for the archive to simply be large. It also must be usable. Most descriptions, titles, and subjects for items that were provided by contributors were vague and confusing. There was little continuity from one collection to the next, which made it difficult for the whole archive to be searched. Although we wanted to preserve the artistic intention of the content creators, we also want the site to be a resource. Our compromise has been to keep the title and description of photos how the creator indicated, but to limit the subjects of items to a controlled vocabulary. Now, when users contribute to the archive, they have to select from a limited list of subjects. What this means for researchers is that they can click on the subject of any one item, and be able to see all the items with that same subject.

Our decision to limit subjects at first might seem minute, but it actually represents a continuous struggle for archives both digital and physical. What is the right balance between preservation and accessibility? In one sense, the item subject could be seen as an important interpretive component that needs to be preserved to reflect the contributors complete artistic vision. On the other hand, the purpose of preservation is almost always to ensure long term usefulness for future generations. Consistent categories and labels are the only way a repository of almost 2,000 items can be made searchable for future users. Ultimately, we tried to find a balance between the two ideals, but tended to favor access.

Interning at the Historical Society of Washington, D.C.

This summer I am working as an intern at the Historical Society of Washington, D.C. (HSW). I began the internship on May 26 and have worked most Tuesdays through Fridays since then. I share intern duties with a student from George Washington University who is working on her Master’s in Archaeology. Neither of us is an archivist or a librarian, so we are both learning quite a bit about the workings of a research library. The Research Services Librarian left on maternity leave at the beginning of July; as a result, we interns are discovering all of the skills and knowledge that are required to serve researchers and the general public at a city historical society by jumping right in. I  have I become more familiar with the standards of archival practice through pulling and re-shelving items for research requests, preparing research guides, and responding to inquiries. I have also built up muscles hauling Hollinger boxes and emptying dehumidifiers. In a small organization like HSW, everyone has to pitch in.

A privately run organization which was formed in 1894 and called the Columbia Historical Society until 1989, the Historical Society of Washington, D.C. has recently come through a tumultuous time of financial challenges and public outreach adjustments.  In 2003, HSW opened a City Museum in the newly-renovated 100-year-old Carnegie Library at Mount Vernon Square.  Within two years, the exhibits closed; although the innovatively designed galleries were intended to interpret the “place-based history” of the capital city for local, national, and international visitors, the museum was unable to attract a large enough audience to sustain the necessary expenses and staff.[1] The Society continued to operate in the historic building, renting out the former exhibit space for special events while operating the research library and archive. Like many historical societies throughout the country, the HSW had wrestled throughout its tenure with maintaining its relevancy in an evolving cultural landscape while also remaining solvent, a condition that is complicated by its position as the home of the federal government and national museums.[2] In 2011, HSW closed its doors temporarily because, despite a 99-year lease of the Carnegie Library from the District of Columbia for one dollar a year, the organization could no longer afford to maintain the grand building. Later that year, HSW was able to negotiate an agreement with the Washington Convention and Sports Authority, now known as EventsDC, which took over maintenance of the property and the exclusive rights to the space as an events venue; the Historical Society reopened in 2012.[3] HSW now controls a small portion of the upper levels of the building, including office space, the research library, and two exhibit halls. Because of the recent difficulties, the staff of HSW are ever mindful of building positive relationships with the local community.

From its inception, an important role of the Society has been the publication of historical research. In the early days of the Columbia Historical Society, the creation and sharing of scholarship among members was the main function of the group.[4] Today, HSW publishes the peer-reviewed journal, Washington History; its contributors often use the collections and archives of the HSW to produce their work. For instance, Jessica French, a Public History Ph.D. student at Middle Tennessee University, contributed “’Practical Club Work’: The Women’s Bindery Union and Twentieth Century Reform in Washington, D.C.” to the most recent volume; the article includes her research of the District of Columbia Federation of Women’s Clubs Records housed in the HSW archives to chronicle the story of Washington women in the labor movement.[5]   Anne McDonough, the Library and Collections Director at HSW (and the intern coordinator), explained to me that historians often do not fully appreciate that their scholarship begins with the work of the archivists who are responsible not only for preserving collections but for knowing the contents thoroughly in order to assist researchers. According to Anne, it is deeply satisfying to archivists to see their collections put to use and interpreted.

I have enjoyed learning about the mechanics of accessioning, storing, retrieving, and researching collections held in archives. This deeper understanding will surely help me become a better researcher. The work on my internship has also made clear to me that my career path will not likely include work as a collections director or research librarian. It would not be enough for me to acquire collections with the hope that a researcher will use them someday. My satisfaction comes from the interpretation of the historical artifacts. Fortunately, I have had the opportunity to put my public history skills to work as well this summer, which I will discuss in my next post.

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[1] Barbara Franco, “The Challenge of a City Museum for Washington, D.C.” Washington History 15, no. 1 (Spring/Summer 2003),6, 19; Franco was the President and CEO of the City Museum and the Historical Society of Washington, D.C.; Trescott, Jacqueline, “City Museum to Close Its Galleries,” Washington Post, 9 Oct 2004, A1.

[2] Franco, 6-7, 12, 15-17.

[3] John Mueller, “New Hope Emerges for the Historical Society,” Greater Greater Washington, 9 Sept 2011, http://greatergreaterwashington.org/post/11922/new-hope-emerges-for-the-historical-society/ ; EventsDC, “Carnegie Library at Mount Vernon Square,” http://www.dcconvention.com/Venues/CarnegieLibrary/OurHistory.aspx ; Franco, 9.

[4] Franco, 6.

[5] Jessica R. French, “’Practical Club Work’: The Women’s Bindery Union and Twentieth Century Reform in Washington, D.C.,” Washington History 27, no. 1 (Spring 2015), 37-49.

Baltimore Uprising Project

I have had the good fortune to work on the Baltimore Uprising project this summer. The project is a digital archive of photographs and stories from the Baltimore Uprising, www.baltimoreuprising2015.org. The website is built using Omeka, a free platform developed and supported by the Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New Media.

Some readers might not be familiar with the Baltimore Uprising, at least as a term. I am linking a thorough explanation of the term here. In brief, after Freddie Gray, a 25 year old Baltimore man, died in police custody, many people took to the streets in protest. They spoke out against systemic racism and police violence. Media coverage monikered the events the Baltimore riot, but on twitter, the hash-tag #baltimoreuprising arose to counter the inappropriate national characterization of events transpiring in the city.

All too often, the history of events can only be accessed through the lens of bureaucracy and official reports. This is problematic to say the least. Michel Rolph-Trouillot spoke to this struggle in his book Silencing the Past.  Trouillot proposed that power, in the form of silence, influences the production of history at multiple stages. Although historians can alter the power dynamics in the historical record through source selection and interpretation, they are usually limited by the kinds of sources that exist. In her article “Seeing Yourself in History”, Michelle Caswell equates a communities absence in the archives as “symbolic annihilation.” With this in mind I am sure, Dr. Denise Meringolo quickly responded to the Baltimore Uprising by creating an Omeka based website where people could upload their own photographs and stories from the Uprising as primary sources for future researchers to access. The site could be a digital repository, recording the grass-root voices of the social movement. The Maryland Historical Society (MdHS) had a similar idea and eagerly made a public call for photographs. They were flooded with submissions, but did not have a prepared infrastructure to handle the submissions. Fortunately, the Historical Society heard about the Baltimore Uprising site and proposed a partnership between Meringolo and the Society. So, like any inspired Public History venture, the project grew.

Next, I was brought on as an intern to process the backlog of photos that MdHS already had and upload them to the website. I was also enlisted to collaborate on developing the website as an archive and a useable resources. So far, the site has over 1,500 items and is still growing. The number of institutional partners has grown and the project is still thriving and expanding nearly 3 months after the most tense moments of the Baltimore Uprising.

Michel Rolph-Trouillot, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (Boston: Beacon Press, 1995).

Michelle Caswell, “Seeing Yourself in History: Community Archives and the Fight Against Symbolic Annihilation” The Public Historian, Vol. 36, No. 4 (November 2014), 26-37.

Catoctin Furnace Internship #3

             Over this past semester, I have learned a great deal concerning the field of public history and how I can contribute to it. I have worked for the Catoctin Furnace Society throughout the semester in order to further broaden my knowledge and apply it. It is even greater still that I had the opportunity to do so at a location that is only a few minutes from where I live. I take great pride in the fact that I will be able to make others excited to learn about a landmark which I have known for my entire life. Instead of rambling further, I’d like to post a small sample of my tour outline to display my work and  I encourage everyone to come and visit the Catoctin Furnace.

Catoctin Furnace Tour Outline

Theme: The Catoctin Furnace holds a rich cultural and industrial history. From 1774 to 1903 the furnace was in blast and provided many jobs within a unique environment where a great deal individuals lived and worked throughout the years. This tour not only analyzes the technical aspects of the furnace but also seeks to display the various facets of life for workers throughout the period whether they were slaves, free African Americans, immigrants, or locals.

Objectives:

1. Visitor will be able to explain most jobs necessary to staff the furnace

2. Visitor will be able to identify necessary materials used in the smelting process

3. Visitor will gain a new perspective into the lives of laborers during the 18th and 19th centuries

4. Most importantly, visitors will be able to picture themselves as if they lived when the furnace was still in blast

I. Introduction (Ironmaster’s House)

            A. Introduce self and present the theme

B. General tour description and small talk about safety (must cross the road several times throughout the tour)

C. Explain on road while leading into the location. Invite the visitors to imagine themselves as being black/white, young/old, men/women/children possibly seeking opportunities or being forced into labor as they come from various beginnings: new to America, enslaved, poor looking for work, used to work at another furnace that failed, possibly from another region of America far north/south.

AVAM Kinetic Sculpture Race and Beyond

For the last months of my internship at the American Visionary Art Museum the entire staff was working on preparing for the Annual Kinetic Sculpture Race. Each year the museum invites teams to build sculptures. However, these sculptures are required to be built around bicycles prepared to go through water, sand, and mud obstacles. The race has been a community staple in Baltimore for the last 17 years and it takes months of preparation. By this spring the race had been almost completely organized. However, there was still plenty to prepare. One of the fondest memories I will take with me from my experience at AVAM was the day I spent folding and sorting t-shirts for the race. I know, it sounds odd that something so menial would be so memorable, but allow me to explain. I started the process on my own. My supervisor soon returned with one other colleague and the Director and Founder of the museum, Rebecca Hoffberger. Rebecca is an impressive figure in the art world and the museum world. Instead of sorting and folding shirts on my own I found myself working alongside two of the museum’s full-time employees and the Director and Founder. We all talked and worked together, and despite the fact that I did have to complete menial tasks in my internship, I knew at this moment that they were jobs that had to be done in order to ensure the operation of the museum. However, no matter how organized an event is, it is no match for problems in the outside world. The race was scheduled for Saturday May 2^nd. At the beginning of the week the Freddy Grey protests took a hold of the city and the museum was forced to cancel the race. This was a massive setback and disappointment; however, it was a wise decision. Museums have to be flexible in order to adjust to whatever the world has to offer. I thought my last day at AVAM was going to be last week; however, I was just invited back for the summer. I didn't apply for the summer intern position, but the person who was meant to take over the position fell through, so my supervisor reached out to me to return to the position, and I was happy to accept her offer. I look forward to the experiences the American Visionary Art Museum has to offer for the next several months.