For the urban history reading project, I was assigned Lemann's The Promised Land: The Great Black Migration and How it Changed America. I actually purchased the book for myself, having heard it was a best-seller and a great addition to any library. After reading it, I truly agreed. The main theme of Lemann's book is the subject of race relations in America and he handles the topic with grace and skill--weaving in personal narratives and the narrative of how the Great Migration changed America from the standpoint of governance.
I also found Lemann's title instructive and ironic. As he describes, blacks absolutely believed that moving North would bring them the kind of life they had always dreamed of--the kind of life that had not been achieved with the abolition of slavery. And yet, the title proves ironic in that the blacks that move north to Chicago find anything but the promised land they had hoped for. Instead, as Lemann asserts, they find yet another substitution for the oppression of slavery. I found it very interesting how Lemann compares and explains the transitions between slavery, sharecropping, and the ghettos of the north.
At the same time, Lemann's description of the view of white people and their inability to deal with the sudden demographic shift was equally as enlightening. The middle section on "Washington" explained the federal government's actions to me in a way I had never considered. I wasn't aware that there was so much politicking surrounding the phenomenon of the Great Migration
For our class' purposes, I think Lemann's work provides all of the background for the situation in the nation leading up to Lansing's decision to build 1-496 through black neighborhoods. When I first read Matt Miller's article, I felt like I was getting a glance at a situation with a much broader context--well, Lemann is that context. The conflict between whites and blacks over a relatively small incident was indicative of similar instances occurring all over the nation. Also, Miller provides some of the black perspective and little of the white perspective. I felt that Lemann's book filled in a lot of these gaps for me. While the situation in Chicago which Lemann focuses on for a case study was not exactly the same as Lansing's situation, the feelings of individual blacks who had moved from the South, the reaction of whites to the influx of blacks, and the response of the government of Chicago displayed the various factors that most likely went into the I-496 decision as well.
Overall, I found Lemann's book compelling. I think our class should try to employ his technique of mixing in individual tales with the overarching narrative--for me, this provided the most insight in the dynamics involved in race relations as a result of the Great Migration.
This past weekend, I traveled to Washington, DC to attend a conference. Having interned there this past summer, I spent lots of time touring the cuisine and the shopping rather than the monuments and museums, but I did have one experience that was completely new.
On Friday afternoon, my group had a tour of the Pentagon. I was so thrilled to be enrolled in this 480 Public History seminar while touring the host site for our nation's Department of Defense--it allowed me to consider the tour on several levels that I wouldn't have thought of prior to the class.
*in the lobby--represents all branches of the military
First, I was surprised at how lax the security seemed--all we had to do was have two forms of identification, have someone check our bags (we were allowed bags?!), and walk through a metal detector. It was my understanding that our entire group had also had a background check prior to the tour day. We waited in a lobby with several military personnel sort of roaming about. In the lobby we were allowed to take photos, use the restrooom, eat, and purchase gifts from the giftshop--all things we would NOT be allowed to do on the tour.
*tourist attraction in the lobby. enough said.
The real fun started with the tour itself. We were escorted into a holding room with other groups. They gave us yellow security badges reading "escort needed" and then we were led into the the main part of the building by two petty officers from the navy. They explained that giving tours is a one year assignment given to low-ranking officers. One escorted at the front, the other at the back.
Here is where my thoughts on public history come in. I didn't realize that the Pentagon has memorials and displays (like a museum) throughout all of its five floors, outer and inner rings, etc. I got to thinking about why this would be necessary in an office building, especially such a high security one. I mean the "decorations" were nice, without them the halls would be so depressing--all white, everywhere! Also, I thought for practical purposes that these different displays could help one find their way around the building as it is HUGE and the only identifying factors are huge numbers on the outside of every room. They explained that the numbers signify which floor, inner/outer ring, section, wing, room, (I think that is all?) and I was already confused!
So turning my public history brain on, I thought, 1) why have all of this great historical stuff in a building which has such high security? 2) why have it in an office where people trying to see it could distract daily business?
On the first point--It seemed that the things had been put there precisely for public consumption--they wanted to give people something to look at on their tour. It also seemed that for some of the items, they didn't know where else to put them, AND they wanted them to have the high security provided in the Pentagon. They had one of the 5 original pens used to sign the treaty ending WWII--the other 4 reside at Pearl Harbor--each valued at 1.6 million dollars. They also had all of General MacArthur's decorations in a wing dedicated entirely to him. But they also had famous paintings that didn't seem to have anything to do with the Pentagon/defense/military specifically. For example, they had several of John Trumbull's paintings...you probably recognize the one below. I learned interesting facts about these, including that Trumbull paints himself into the photos. The one you see is replicated in the Pentagon--the original appears in the Capitol's Rotunda.
*Trumbull always locates himself fourth from the edge of the painting looking in the opposite direction--do you see him?
*Also, Thomas Jefferson paid Trumbull to look better than John Adams in this photo--notice the differences?
My favorite part of the tour was when they took us to the place where the plane hit the building on 9/11--they had built a memorial chapel there. The reason for this piece of public history/memorabilia/heritage was clear--mourning, grieving, remembering, respect. The windows from the chapel overlook the outdoor memorial. I don't know how to describe how moving this experience was...
But now to my second point--aren't all of these visitors distracting to the literally life and death work done in the Pentagon? Kyvig's book: Nearby History brings up this very point--that preserving history can be distracting when those buildings are still in use. Our tour guides were shouting, and we were stared at by almost everyone walking by. Also, aren't we a security issue? I would never even think of wandering the Pentagon for fear of becoming lost, but I wouldn't put it past some...
Overall, I would say that because of the nature of our political regime--liberal democracy--the people expect our government to provide us with opportunities to see all that goes on inside of it. I think we are only willing to give up our access to this history/heritage when we feel in danger--like when the WhiteHouse was closed to tourists after 9/11...but at what point are we given too much access? and at what point does the government cater to much to what the people want? I loved my tour of the Pentagon, but was it necessary?
As the title suggests, in his article, "Looking back: I-496 construction: A complicated Legacy," Matthew Miller attempts to look at all of the angles in an introductory piece about a traffic project that changed the city of Lansing--the construction of Interstate 496. Miller introduces several perspectives:
"the largest black neighborhood...eviscerated by the unyielding logic of federal highway construction..."
"he dreams of a neighborhood cut in half to make way for Interstate 496".
"It cut out the heart of a neighborhood..."
"the trade-off was worth it..."
"some black people gained a foothold in neighborhoods where they hadn't been allowed to live previously..."
"the project would destroy more houses owned by whites"
"we were able to get other places that were better..."
In this way, Miller focuses on two main perspectives--that the project was implemented with complete disregard for the lives of those living in the neighborhoods which would be affected--particularly blacks. The other, that this interstate provided affected black families with more opportunities than they otherwise would have had.
The article did leave me wondering about a few other perspectives, however. What about the perspective of those who designed the project and decided how to implement it? What about the perspective of the state? The article speedily accuses the state without offering their point of view. What was the decision-making process like from the perspective of those who went through it?
The article also suggests differing outcomes of the project. What was the ultimate effect on the racial climate and dynamics in Lansing as a result of the new interstate? How did whites and blacks each feel about how things changes because of the uprooting and removal of large portions of a neighborhood in the heart of Lansing?
On a different note, concerning the research that our class's investigation into this "public history" will inevitably entail, I noticed Miller referred us to a few sources: 1) the basement of the Capital Area District Library's downtown branch 2) master's theses--specifcally Bruce Brown's 3) YMCA where Dubose stayed 4) the articles listed at the end of Miller's article
What other sources should we be looking for? What should we expect to find at the sources Miller handed us that he may have left out?
When we got historic site visit assignment number two, I knew exactly where I wanted to visit--The Turner-Dodge House. Located at 100 E. North Street, or as I like to think of it, on the path home, I have driven past this location my whole life--so I was really excited to have an excuse to visit it!
However, when I looked up the hours, I realized it was only open Tuesday-Friday from 8-5pm. I realized I could only go on Wednesday at 4pm so I did--only to find that it was already closed! Of course I peeked around the property and inside the windows and it seemed really neat! I am definitely going to try to visit another time.
So while I don't have much to say about the house as a historical/heritage site--I do have something to say about the preservation of such sites. First, the site was only open during hours when people work--it says something about what kind of audience this type of site is catering to. While I did notice in the window a flyer for a benefit over the weekend, having hours only during the workday really limits tourists. Also, closing early doesn't allow visitors to get the full experience either. I was really disappointed in my trip to the house, and ultimately while I thought from what I got to see that it would be awesome to tour the inside, I came away with the conclusion that these sites aren't worth preserving if they are not accessible.
For a better recap of what this site was like, I will refer you to my classmate's blog.
In his article, Public History: Its Origins, Nature, and Progress, Robert Kelley defines public history as the following:
"In its simplest meaning, Public History refers to the employment
of historians and the historical method outside of academia: in
government, private corporations, the media, historical societies
and museums, even in private practice. Public Historians are at
work whenever, in their professional capacity, they are part of
the public process. An issue needs to be resolved, a policy must be
formed, the use of a resource or the direction of an activity must
be more effectively planned-and an historian is called upon to
bring in the dimension of time: this is Public History."
In the remainder of the article, Kelley explains the origins of public history as historians' efforts to reach a new audience--employers! According to Kelley's explanation, public history was created, taught, and propagated in order to find jobs for academic historians. This is but one more option for an answer in our search for an audience in our seminar called "Public History." The audience could be employers--reminds me of one of the audiences in the Enola Gay controversy--stake holders. In that situation, the stake holders are like the employers of the museum--they provide funding and therefore get a say in what the museum produces. Similarly, in the case of employment, the graduate students in history must adapt to the market in order to get jobs--and this involved finding ways to use history in various areas in order to get a foot "in the back door" as Kelley puts it.
That public history derived from a lack of jobs for academic historians makes me think of the consistent problem between scholars and their public--seems public history as a discipline grew from this problem--being an academic historian wasn't necessarily the best way to succeed, so graduate programs found an alternative for their students--an alternative audience--employers that would maybe help historians reach their original audience, the public, in a new way.
I think after reading these articles, I understand why the controversy is called "The Classic Case of Enola Gay." The same fundamental problem arises again and again in the scholarship in the Journal of American History, Vol. 82 Issue 3: scholars believe history should be X and the public believes history should be Y. For Thelen, the result of the controversy is scholars retreating from sharing their work with the public. Kohn describes the contest between the scholar's need to stimulate the intellect and the public's desire for patriotic emotional connection. Harwitz describes the Smithsonian's mission versus what it was created and commissioned to do all against what expectations and different variations of both of these sets of "rules," so to speak, entail. Politics vs. History is the contest at the core of Sherwin's essay, but for Linenthal, history and memory. Harris argues that controversy occurs from reactions rather than intentions, and thus remains outside the control or prediction of those who put forth the history that provokes such reactions. For Woods, Enola Gay should teach us to allow history and the public to work together like they have in the past. From his perspective as a Japanese scholar on the other side from those who fought "the Good War" (to use his term) Sodei explores the conflict between those who make history and those who write it down, particularly asserting that ""No one, however, participant or not, has any right to dictate how history should be written." Dower, like Sodei explores whether the bomb, and Enola Gay in dropping it, marks an end or a beginning, and especially on its 50th anniversary--a triumph or a tragedy?
In the end what happens? Well, if we use Enola Gay as an example, we don't get a mix of those things, we get neither of them. We don't get history or heritage, ambiguity or patriotism. Another of my classmates, Heather, referred to the exhibit as it stands as "barebones" in her blog. It seems that if the controversy over history doesn't reach some sort of compromise or conclusion, this is what we will be left with--bare-bones history.
In my other life (outside of history that is) I study political philosophy. One of the trends in political philosophy, so to speak, is the idea that there has been a break between ancient and modern man. And one of the characteristics of modern man is that he is self-conscious, in part based on his understanding of himself as a being with history. What if this history becomes bare-boned? What if man's understanding of himself loses its intrigue and import?
At the same time, I am not yet sure (hopefully this class will help me to figure it out) how to avoid this sort of conflict and paradox. Professional academic historians study their subjects purposefully free of bias, anticipating effects on their judgment and working to avoid them. Everyday historians like history because of emotion and bias. We have said so ourselves in class. The most common answer amongst our class about what has had the most influence on your historical understanding is NOT traditional or academic history, but rather history that purposefully seeks to ignite emotion in us--be it film, historical fiction, monuments, etc.
In this vein, Kohn implicitly argues that the Enola Gay exhibit brought out many more problems than actually concerned the exhibit. People allowed their prejudice to be voiced through the exhibit. The AFA, who, according to Kohn, had long felt that the NASM, representing the nation as a whole, particularly the Nation's Capitol, did not do the Air Force justice in comparison to the other branches of the military. In the 1995 article in fact, he discusses that there is no monument to the air force in DC, though there are several memorialized tributes to other military branches. Well, I was there this past summer, and that problem has been rectified. I drove past the monument daily. And I remember people telling us that it was a big deal when it was built, and that it was relatively new--but no one explained why--now I know.
*The National Air Force Memorial, located in Arlington, VA
Beyond the AFA's pent up anger, were other issues concerning free speech, national funding, etc. The AFA's initial article opened a gate-way for any and all complaints related to this "classic" conflict between public and scholarly history.
Why did it take this particular museum exhibit to begin a conversation, or at least make people take it seriously? What has been done since Enola Gay to solve this problem?
I am just beginning to delve into the Enola Gay controversy--but I am fascinated already. The concept seems so simple--create an exhibit based on the facts--that is history right? (No offense intended towards my classmate Janine who is currently a Museum Studies student.) I mean of course there are logistical things about exhibits like aesthetics and location in the museum etc--but no one really fights over content right?
WRONG.
Enola Gay demonstrates why history matters in the various view points that all fought over how this aspect of a significant (to say the least) historical event actually happened. In his article, "History after the Enola Gay Controversy: An Introduction about the Controversy," David Thelen presents at least seven different view points on the proposed exhibit:
1) National Air and Space Museum (NASM) curators
2) Air Force Academy (AFA)
3) veterans
4) US Senate
5) Organization of American Historians (OAH)
6) American Legion
7) public
And within these seven (on my count at least) viewpoints are several ways to characterize the history of the event:
*analysis
*emotion
*commemoration
*narrative
*scholarship
*authenticity
*accuracy
*observation
Really the list could go on an on. But what I found most interesting about Thelen's article was the following quote:
“I wonder whether we might find greater understanding if we emphasized, not how historians differ from others in seeking firsthand accounts and evaluating them one against another, but how our methods parallel the ways people in everyday life prefer firsthand to secondary accounts and evaluate differing versions of the same events.”
This assertion seems reminiscent of (yes I am going to refer to it again) Ian Tyrell's Historians in Public. The overarching problem is that there is a disconnect between the public and historians. But according to Tyrell, when historians started to cater to the public, performing history from the bottom up, starting with the particular and moving to the general--history lost its ability to see the overarching themes that relate to heritage and patriotism and historians were blamed once again for not relating to their audiences. According to Thelen, the curators of NASM tried to make sense of Enola Gay for the public but apparently failed. He says:
"In my judgment, the first script for this exhibition did all these things-and many more. It is a tragedy for historians, veterans, and museum goers alike that we cannot see the exhibition. The only alternative to learning from this tragedy is to retreat into safe professional harbors where we talk only with ourselves."
Is this the solution? Should historians stop trying to relate to the public? Should historians abandon the quest for an audience? But then what purpose does history serve? Thelen in fact points out in the beginning of his article that ABC News did a similar project on the bombing of Hiroshima and though they did not even try to please the various audiences, their project was much more well-received. What are historians to do? This is how Enola Gay demonstrates the stakes and importance of history. If there is no agreement on what should be presented then nothing is presented at all as in the case of the NASM exhibit. If historians retreat into "safe professional harbors" and museums don't set up exhibits, then where will our history come from. How will schools like Massachusetts achieve their goal of propagating a heritage? The example of Enola Gay seems to lead back to the question we were presented with on the first day of class...how does history gain an audience?
When reading the 132 page-long document detailing the history curriculum for K-12 for the state of Massachusetts I couldn't help but consider David Lowenthal's The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History. The whole subject of the book is to delinate the differences between history and heritage and to determine their effects on one another. Though he will admit that this is not possible, Lowenthal asserts that history's main goal is to present the past "exactly as it was," whereas heritage is trying to convey "myths of origin and continuance (128) and emotions and stories--without caring whether or not they are exactly true to testable facts and details. To me, the Massachusetts history curriculum document tried to accomplish a balance between these two concepts.
The document was approved in October 2002, as an adaption of something written in 1997, and was written with the help of teachers and administrators from throughout MA, museums and historical societies, professors and public officials. Clearly the MA state board of education tried to eliminate the struggle over history, as explained in Tyrell's Historian's in Public, by drawing from all possible sources.
I have to say the beginning of this document surprised me. I could not believe how clearly they stated the goal of their entire curriculum through three points:
"First, that democracy is the worthiest form of human governance ever conceived.
Second that we cannot take its survival or its spread - or its perfection in practice - for granted. Indeed, we believe that the great central drama of modern history has been and continues to be the struggle to establish, preserve, and extend democracy - at home and abroad...
Third, we are convinced that democracy’s survival depends upon our transmitting to each new generation the political vision of liberty and equality that unites us as Americans - and a deep loyalty to the political institutions our founders put together to fulfill that vision."
This assertion seemed more in line with trying to convey a kind of heritage rather than exact truth. According to the document, encouraging the children of Massachusetts to believe in democracy as practiced in the United States is the most important goal of history. The introduction to this document, based off of Education for Democracy: A Statement of Principles. Publication of the Education for Democracy Project, a joint project of the American Federation of Teachers, the Education Excellence Network, and Freedom House (Washington, D.C.: American Federation of Teachers, 1987) which is a standard for the entire country seemed to convey the message that this particular patriotic idea about the American founding, its government, and its goals, is an idea that is common to all of the US.
While they did provide a disclaimer about specific policy implications, I thought the message conveyed was quite clear and I was honestly surprised. If the entire curriculum is about a certain idea, even a bias...how can the students hope to learn history "exactly as it happened" or as close to it as possible? One of the major problems with history curriculum arose during WWII and the issue was that "the youth of America, in colleges and schools, knew little about their country's history." What Allan Nevins called "cultural suicide" (Tyrell 111). This introduction emphasizes that Massachusetts was trying to avoid a problem like this--they want their students to know their past, but also, and seemingly more importantly, their heritage.
Tyrell also mentions how schools migrated from just history to a more comprehensive curriculum that also includes more aspects of the social sciences like economics and civics--both of these arerequired electives in high school in MA.
Moving onto the specifics of the curriculum itself, Massachusetts provides standards for each grade starting with Pre-K through 12th. Some of these standards are very specific such as 3rd grade which specifies that the entire year will be spent learning the state history of Massachusetts. In the 6th year, however, they just have to learn a set of standards. Further, I noticed that "real history," as opposed to heritage, is not really insisted on until 4th/5th grade when students began to learn geography and concrete facts about US History:
"The purpose of the grade 5 curriculum is to give students their first concentrated study of the formative years of U.S. history."
Each grade level also provides a description of the skills the students should have acquired and what they should learn in that current year. I don't think MA provides lesson plans at all, in fact, it seems they strive to give lots of flexibility. In fact, they say specifically: "The standards in themselves are not intended to be the curriculum, nor do they indicate the whole curriculum." This flexibility is especially demonstrated in the 8th-12th grade levels in which school districts can choose to follow different 'pathways' while achieving the same goals. The guidelines also note that history should not only be based on facts, but should have an element of drama. To achieve this, the document encourages teachers to sort of be creative in how they convey the information. It seems the entire document tries very hard to give guidelines, but not specific instructions.
Finally, I especially enjoyed all of the appendices and found them helpful, or at least would if I was trying to teach. The lists of primary documents were exciting as MA clearly wants students to be able to learn certain skills of history which we emphasize on college campuses, such as being able to learn about history not just from those who have written about it for us, but from those people who experienced it themselves. I also happened to notice McCullough's John Adams book on the list of readings that one can use to help instruct. This fact furthered my thoughts about MA being open to history as heritage, or at least not specifically from historians themselves. I also enjoyed the very extensive list of museums, historical sites, archives available to teachers as well as websites. It seems as though Massachusetts wants to stimulate historical discussion that is anything but the stereotypical sitting in a classroom reading about dead people.
I felt the curriculum was far more extensive and comprehensive than what I learned as I went through school, but I wonder how much of this is taught verbatim, or how much is aspirtaional? Either way, I appreciated Massachusetts's attempts to bridge the gap between traditional history, fun history, and heritage.
I'm a doctoral student at the University of Wisconsin studying political theory. While politics is my life's work and my main passion, I want people to know that I can do more than read and write. That's why I decided to start this blog. Writings in political theory are often called 'treatises' on a particular subject. This blog will be my treatise on tulle--or all things fun and fashionable in my life. So take a look around and enjoy!
