The Potential of Public History Projects

As you can probably imagine, public history projects are often controversial and cause conflict amongst those involved. Cathy Stanton studied one specific example in The Lowell Experiment: Public History in a Postindustrial City. Stanton examined the transformation of Lowell, Massachusetts from an industrial mill town to a heritage site. Through interviews, Stanton discovered the opinions of different involved parties, including both academic and public historians, community leaders, preservationists, former mill workers, real estate developers, and visitors to the site, among others. The Lowell Experiment is an extremely detailed case study and displays many themes concerning the issues that arise during the process of completing a public history project. One issue Stanton highlights is that of authority. Whose interpretation of history is the one displayed to the public? Academic historians, public historians, the townspeople? Another issue is that of present-day Lowell. How can historians address current politics through their interpretation of the past? Stanton suggests that public historians have the ability—and maybe even responsibility—to comment on present day political issues through work.

 The idea of public historians addressing current politics remained in the back of my mind as I began Slavery and Public History: The Tough Stuff of American Memory, a collection of essays edited by James Oliver Horton and Lois E. Horton. Several of the authors who contributed to Slavery and Public History connect the teaching, interpretation, and presentation of  slavery through American history to present day issues of race, inequality, and misunderstanding of the topic. Most Americans today are aware of issues of racial inequality still rampant in our nation, but are unaware of the affect slavery had on creating those issues. Slavery is one of, if not the toughest topic to both interpret and present to the public. Many individuals are uncomfortable with the topic, some prefer to ignore it completely, while others attempt to search for the good that came of it-- such as culture, cuisine, language, and religion. But just like other tough topics in history, slavery cannot be ignored at historic sites or, importantly, in public education.

Several authors agreed with Stanton that public historians can use their work to comment, and affect, present-day political issues. Ira Berlin, the author of the first chapter of Slavery and Public History, entitled “Coming to Terms with Slavery in Twenty-First Century America,” asserts that if race can be created in the past, it can be remade in the future. This conclusion agrees with Stanton’s idea that public historians are responsible for addressing political issues today through their interpretations of the past. Other authors suggest broader public education on the matter, commenting on our nation’s lacking public education system. After reading both The Lowell Experiment and Slavery and Public History, I am more familiar with both the process of a public history project and more aware of the potential—and consequences—of  the work of public historians.

Exploring Exhibitions

This week’s readings, Private History in Public: Exhibition and the Settings of Everyday Life by Tammy S. Gordon and Creating Exhibitions: Collaboration in the Planning, Development, and Design in Innovative Experiences by Polly McKenna-Cress and Janet A. Kamien both explore the process of creating successful exhibits.

 In Private History in Public, Gordon focuses on historical exhibits and explains the unique aspects of several different types of exhibits, from academic to corporate to community. She asserts that historical curation is a social experience, in which individuals interact with historic objects that serve to explain certain communities around a common historic narrative (Gordon, 4). Gordon’s discussion on private history exhibits, which are rarely acknowledged by museum professionals, stood out to me in contrast to McKenna-Cress and Kamien’s work. Gordon explained that private historical exhibits are “cross-class, cross-ethnic, cross-cultural conversations that can ultimately lead to social and economic change” (Gordon 5). Rather than using artifacts, like academic exhibits, private exhibits use belongings that have a connection to the curator of the exhibit. Further, some private exhibits attempt to replace the larger, well-known historical narrative assumed by most of society. Even after her discussion of examples, Gordon’s claim that private historical exhibits restructure the authority of historical knowledge, create conversations, and serve to further democracy seemed like a bit of a stretch. However, learning about the different types of exhibits proved helpful, particularly when reading Creating Exhibitions.

McKenna-Cress and Kamien provide an in-depth, almost textbook-like discussion about the process of collaboration within exhibit design. Unlike Gordon’s book, which seemed to favor the private or vernacular exhibits, Creating Exhibitions focused on more large-scale professional exhibitions. The authors explained the importance of collaboration, asserting “Basing program and exhibit development on the limited experience and knowledge of a single person is simply not acceptable in an age where access to information, knowledge, and people are at one’s fingertips” (McKenna-Cress, 7). Though McKenna-Cress and Kamien focus on different types of exhibits, they agree with Gordon that real objects can affect visitors in a powerfully transformative way and that authenticity it significant. Gordon writes that only private exhibits, when objects are belongings rather than artifacts, allow visitors to connect on a higher level with the object. Creating Exhibitions will continue to guide me as I come closer to graduating and entering the field of public history professionally.