The Future of Public History

This week’s readings examined the present trends in various cultural markets, including museums, national parks, historic sites, and musical productions, and discussed the effects those trends will have in the future. Greater Philadelphia Cultural Alliance published “Arts, Culture, and Economic Prosperity in Greater Philadelphia” in 2012 and their “2011 Portfolio” to identify the status of cultural markets in the area. The study showed the effect of the shaky economy on different organizations, but as a student anticipating graduation and beginning a job-hunt in the field, some of the results weren’t as dismal as I anticipated. First, in “2011 Portfolio,” history-related institutions maintained the highest attendance. Reading this caused me to smile slightly, though I know it does not mean the current situation of historical museums and sites in the area is great. The study also found that while attendance increased and prices stayed stable, revenues dropped. Many cultural organizations are struggling financially. This led many organizations to defer necessary maintenance just to keep their doors open. As an intern in the field, I have witnessed this first hand.

In “Coming Soon: The Future: That Shape of Museums to Come,” James Chung, Susie Wilkening, and Sally Johnstone asked which of today’s trends are most likely to shape the world, and thus museums, of the future. The authors made smart observations about the growth of minorities and the need for museums to reach these new communities. They suggest this not only because engaging with the community is an important task of any museum, but because those minority groups will become a large portion of voters deciding whether or not to fund museums in the future. They also discussed the future role of women in museums and the possibility of women becoming their largest percent of visitors, volunteers, and even donors. But while the authors suggested that museums must change their roles in the community in order to evolve with the world around them, the authors did not offer readers any specific suggestions as to how to go about that. I know that every museum and its surrounding communities are unique, but some of the discussion felt incomplete—like a professor assigning a large project, but giving little direction for guidelines to complete it. Still, the points the authors made are certainly thought provoking and, even if they only convince museum professionals that change is imminent, helpful.

The final reading, Imperiled Promise: The State of History in the National Park Service (Part I) examines the history of history in the National Park Service and makes suggestions for improving NPS’s history work in the future. The authors assert that the National Park Service was founded to preserve, interpret, and instruct the American public on historic places in the United States. But from the introduction of history to the NPS in the 1930s, the agency has kept history and the rest of the services separate. The authors suggest that historians at the NPS begin and maintain dialogues with academic historians to keep up with trends. Each of the readings, while pointing out problems in the world of public history, make suggestions for a brighter future that will hopefully create a more involved and informed public.

Inside the World of Living History

Living history is a complicated topic in the world of public history. Public historians debate whether it can be considered authentic and even whether it is a useful tool at all. This week’s reading, The Wages of History: Emotional Labor on Public History’s Front Lines by Amy Tyson, used an extended case method to examine the complexities of working as an interpreter at Historic Fort Snelling in Minnesota.

Tyson found several major themes that affected the lives of the workers, both on and off of the job. One such theme that I found to be interesting (and somewhat maddening) was the gender and class divides between workers. Interpreters at Fort Snelling experienced tension between male and female employees, as bosses assigned historically male of female tasks to each individual hired. Interestingly, female interpreters were not included in the interpretive plan to be historically accurate—as females would have lived and worked at the fort—but to please visitors (42).

Tyson found that visitor preference affected most of the decisions made concerning interpretation, both by management and individual staff members. Most interpreters agreed that visitor reaction guided their performances. Because interpreters could not move up in the organization, many workers considered positive visitor feedback the most important aspect of the job. The focus of interpreters on pleasing visitors led to another interesting point: that the less comfortable topics of history, especially slavery, was generally erased from the interpretation (150). Like in other situations, interpreters gauged how comfortable visitors seemed when they mentioned tough subjects rather than always including the touchy information. This caused some interpreters to misrepresent the history of Fort Snelling. It displays one major issue with living history: that the individual interpreters decide what story to tell and how they will tell it.

Many interpreters mentioned in Tyson’s book recalled internalizing their roles. Some explained that they maintained their upbeat, outgoing work personalities outside of work. They commented on gender tension in the discussion, but also focused on the class divide amongst workers. For example, an interpreter playing an upper-class lady can scold an interpreter playing a servant for an action that their “present-day person” decided was okay. Many interpreters who played lower-class roles kept the feeling of guilt or embarrassment throughout and after the workday. This class divide caused tension amongst the employees and personal strife even outside of the work place. After reading some of Tyson’s examples of this, I imagined a co-worker at the same level as me held the right to reprimand me just because they wore a different outfit and sat in a different room. I know that wouldn’t sit well with me, and imagine it would be difficult for most individuals to adjust to.

The Wages of History discussed many aspects of interpreters at a historic site, but in my opinion, the most important discussion focused on authenticity. According to Tyson, most employees had a preoccupation with authenticity and became almost obsessed with the idea (117). Some interpreters even turned authenticity into a game or competition and monitored others about it. Lead guides often falsely labeled behavior they disliked as inauthentic, using the term as an excuse to exert power (135). The authenticity of objects is a hot topic in the field of house museums, and I was interested to learn about it in the context of living history at historic sites. The thought that kept popping into my mind while reading is that those playing the roles of historic characters can never be truly authentic, no matter how much they get into their character. Even “hard cores” who take their jobs more seriously can never be a truly authentic representation of the past. They did not experience it. No matter how much they believe they know, they were not there.

Overall, Tyson provided a thought-provoking look into the lives of interpreters. Her discussion raises several key themes relevant to historic sites and museums around the world, with or without living history. Throughout the book, I compared the issues of interpreters to issues at my own past jobs. In the end, the book left me with the thought: a job is a job.