Road Trips Through History

This week’s reading of Dwight Young’s, Road Trips through History: a Collection of Essays from Preservation Magazine, highlights the important issues regarding historic preservation. As its title suggests, this book is a compilation of essays written by Dwight Young who has worked at the National Trust for Historic Preservation since 1977. Young’s essays touch on everything from historic buildings, historic districts, cemeteries, sculptures, architecture, battlefields, and downtown districts. Young brings a fresh perspective to the preservation movement. Although preservation is his job, his essays demonstrate not just the battles over certain preservation projects, but also the everyday occurrences of preservation around us especially at the grassroots level. The term historic preservation generally brings to mind images of dilapidated old homes that usually were the site of an historic event or an historic person’s life, however Young’s essays dispel these preconceived notions. His essays on architecture are quite illuminating; Young discusses how the design of a building (or monument for that matter) can bring history to life, so to speak. Several of his essays describe the emotional responses to buildings that their design brings forth from even the most casual observer, and it is this reason more so than their historical significance that Young cites for their preservation.

Along with the emotional response people have towards certain structures, the personal affiliation one can make with said structure is also one of the more important reasons to preserve such a site according to Young. A site that offers a personal narrative that many others can relate to is much more intriguing and worth rehabilitating and preserving rather than destroying to make room for new and modern structures that lack that warm inviting nature; these new modern marvels lack that “je ne sais quoi” which attracts people to historic landmarks. These essays show the cultural importance for historic preservation. It is more than saving sites related to great men and battlefields and sites of historical relevance; it is about capturing that cultural significance which plays a role in the lives of everyday men and women. In other words, an old 1950s diner has just as much importance as a civil war battlefield. When it comes down to it, those places that generate nostalgia of the “good old days” are just as historically significant as the home of George Washington, or the site of the Gettysburg Address. Young’s passionate drive for preservation is reflected in this collection of essays which illustrate to the reader the social and cultural implications of saving these relics of our past, whether it is of a national, local, or cultural importance to our society.

Displays of Power

This week’s reading of Steven C. Dubin’s, Displays of Power: Controversy in the American Museum from the Enola Gay to Sensation, shines an immense light on the power of media and politics in “controversial” museum exhibits. Dubin’s case studies of five major controversial exhibitions in the U.S. show surprising similarities in the issues they faced. The role of the media is similar in every instance; which is that they escalate the conflict or create conflict by publishing things out of context, thereby fanning the flames that may have only simmered if not for their involvement. Dubin’s spot light on the media’s role in playing up these controversies certainly directs one to truly analyze articles and check their facts; not rely on them at face value. While it is fairly common knowledge that newspapers have various slants and political views, I have still taken newspaper articles as a true representation of facts; Dubin’s book has shown that that can not be done. Dubin shows how news journalists are just looking for a story to sell their paper and that in their effort to meet their deadlines, facts often go unchecked; something I have never considered before, but will now.

Dubin’s interviews with the men and women involved in these controversial exhibitions also illustrates the passionate scope of their work. The swearing in this book exceeds that of any other book of this nature that I have ever read, which proves just how passionate these people were about their work. Their level of intensity for their work that they tried to so hard to bring to the public truly inspired me. The fact that certain subjects can bring to life this level of passion from people who aspire to put together the best exhibit they can is moving. The impact that small interest groups and local communities have on the outcome of such exhibitions is disheartening. Going back to the role of the media, it is upsetting how these previews for exhibits, which should help, in these instances, only hindered the possibilities for the eventual exhibition. Without the media’s role in spot lighting the controversies, the public’s opinion of the exhibit is formed before they ever set foot in the museum. Not only does this prevent them from coming to their own conclusions about the exhibit (the whole concept of the museum being a forum and NOT a temple), but as seen in Dubin’s examples, the original concept is completely cut back and censored (a word that came up often in Dubin’s analyses) from its original intentions.

A quick note about the author’s writing style. I enjoyed this book more than I originally thought I would. Dubin has a way of presenting these examples in a way that isn’t dry, or boring (which it could have easily turned out to be). His writing style is almost conversational, as if he is having a face-to-face conversation with the reader. I found myself laughing out loud several times while reading his analysis of these controversies. I especially enjoyed his “Homo Censorious” explanation in the Afterword about Sensation, very original, and quite cheeky.

Preserving Memory: Part Two

The second half of Edward T. Linenthal’s, Preserving Memory: The Struggle to Create America’s Holocaust Museum, illustrates the struggles of designing the permanent exhibit and the museum’s mission of raising awareness of genocide worldwide. Once again we see the same battle of “ownership” of the Holocaust memory among the Jewish sect. The same old arguments and differences arise over who should be portrayed in the permanent exhibition, and it is rather shocking to see how the Jewish members of the council try to discriminate against the “other” victims. It’s almost (or maybe it IS) hypocritical of the “other” victims’ treatment in the designing of the exhibition by the members of the council. Although the Jews were by far the largest group to suffer at the hands of the Nazis, it is still the same suffering and horrible fate that the Roms, the handicapped, and homosexuals faced and their deaths should hold the same value. The discussion over the inclusion of the Armenian genocide as a precursor to the Holocaust was quite illuminating as well. It was frustrating to read about how difficult the members of the council were who stressed that the Jewish story was the only story/most important story to tell in the exhibit and therefore vetoed any inclusion of non-Jewish history. It’s disheartening that Michael Berenbaum could not get more of the Armenian’s story of genocide into the exhibit besides the one quote from Hitler, although he fought hard for it. However, in the case of the Armenian genocide politics played a large role over the inclusion of it in the exhibit, not just the opinions of council members. All the same though, it is a shame that there story could not be included. Linenthal’s documentation of the warring debates over inclusion in the permanent exhibition shines a spotlight on the difficulties in commemorating a memory whose wounds are still fresh in the hearts and minds of men and women.

Despite the hardships that the museum faced in its development, Linenthal's conclusion brought the story back home with his example of the incident in Billings, Montana. Having never heard of this incident prior to this reading, it was inspiring to know that a community can come together in resistance to prevent such acts of violence and hate from spiraling out of control. This story is a great way to encompass this idea that commemorating Holocaust memory serves to do more than pay respect to those whose lives were lost, but also can propel people to actively prevent an "extreme situation" from occurring again.

Preserving Memory Based on a Shared Identity: Part 1

This week’s reading of the first half of Edward T. Linenthal’s Preserving Memory: The Struggle to Create America’s Holocaust Museum, is a thorough testament to the issues that faced the men and women who established the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. While I feel slightly biased in discussing this week’s reading. having personally used this book in the past for my own research paper on the national Holocaust museum a year ago, it was interesting to read it again from a non-research oriented perspective. The frequent “battles” between members of the Holocaust Council and the respective men and women who were brought in to work on this project is a prime example of shared inquiry and shared authority, two concepts introduced last week. While many of the council members were Holocaust survivors, and therefore, had a staunch belief on what should and should not be in the permanent exhibit and how it should be exhibited, museum professionals who were brought in for their expertise had to work with them delicately to explain the “nuts and bolts” of a museum, the technical aspects that those concerned strictly with the exhibit had not considered. This book also illustrates just how much the design of a building can also affect the exhibit as well. The building that houses the museum is not simply a shell to hold these artifacts, but also helps create the mood that the exhibit attempts to evoke from its visitors.

Linenthal does a great job of documenting the trials and tribulations of the commission and council members in their journey to create this museum. However, one thing that he does not document fully is the general public’s reaction to the museum, something I came across in my research for my paper a year ago. The Washington Post and the New York Times, as well as a few magazines from the time contain several articles that discuss public opinion of the project, as well as editorials and letters to the editor that garner insight into the general opinion of the public about the museum’s creation. Linenthal’s book is hardly lacking for not containing this aspect, but it does provide some further insight into the reception of the museum by the general public, which in some cases regarding certain elements of the museum’s creation provide a better feel of the overall mood of the public. Overall though, Linenthal does an excellent job (again I feel biased) of documenting the immense task of not only constructing a museum from the ground up, but also the difficulties that lie in forging a museum that documents a world event based on a shared identity of millions of people.

Engaging the Public in Public History

There is an interesting discussion among fellow public historians to clearly define their profession, as demonstrated in the NCPH article “What is Public History?” However, these professionals debate whether or not such a clear cut definition of this field can exist. This lack of a clear definition is illustrated in the Corbet and Miller article, “A Shared Inquiry into Shared Inquiry.” There is no set methodology for public historians; it is ever growing and changing as the situation requires. In this article the authors describe the novel method of working collaboratively with the public to create a successful historical exhibit; successful meaning the public not only enjoyed the exhibit, but also discerned the historians’ broader message of the exhibit as a whole. In other words, not only would the general public see the artifacts that they associated with their own shared memories of events, but also grasped the larger historical significance of said events in the larger historical context. The article sheds light on this problem of not only giving the public what they want, but also getting the historical message across to the audience. The problem with working with the public, as the authors discovered, is the public’s desire for a more personal history, one that is locally centered, that they can relate to. The historian’s objective however, is to relate that personal experience to the larger historical context of the local community and nation at that time.
As seen in Rosenzweig and Thelen’s book, The Presence of the Past, the general public desires a more familial knowledge of their past, with little concern for the big picture. Their study showed that while the lay public did actively pursue historical knowledge it was limited to their own desire to identify with their own ancestral past. The results of their study show the need for public historians to relate the public’s personal history with that of the larger historical context of the time. As Corbet and Miller’s article demonstrates, the lay public actively pursues those artifacts in exhibits that kindle their memories of a particular time and/or event. The challenge for the public historian is to encourage the public to go beyond their own personal history to see how it fits into the larger historical context of the time. According to Rosenzweig and Thelen’s research, the general public has a rather disconnected view of their national history. It is the job of the public historian to accurately and informatively engage the public to identify their personal past in the grander scheme of history thereby illustrating to them the tangible quality of history that they neglect to recognize due to their prejudice of “Capital H history.” This prejudice stems from inadequate classroom teaching of history in their youth. In other words, the problem with today’s lay public is that they have a poor understanding of “Capital H history” due to their poor experiences with classroom/textbook historical teachings in their youth. If today’s high school history teachers took on a more “hands-on” approach to history, more people could have a better appreciation for history that goes beyond their own personal history to that of the larger schemes of community, ethnicity, state, national, and world history. “Capital H history” would no longer be a list of “irrelevant” dates and names of long ago people and places, but something that individuals could relate to their own historical identity which they would then appreciate. The argument of these readings is that history needs to feel more personal to the audience it is being disseminated to in order for them to learn and appreciate the knowledge being presented to them. The public audience wants to feel a personal connection with the history they are presented with, not just hard, cold facts. As the Corbet and Miller article and Rosenzweig and Thelen book demonstrate, Americans learn more (or aspire to learn more) from a history they can relate to that is demonstrated through first hand accounts and personal artifacts, then when it is espoused from second hand scholarly research that has no personal touches that illustrate the human quality of the history that is being presented.