Coming Full Circle: Intergenerational Oral History

This week I'm thinking about the living relationships we develop when we build archival collections. Earlier this month, in an effort to highlight our school building's fifty-year history, my students and I invited alumni to visit and tell us their stories. It was amazing to see the students' curiosity and to hear the bonds being formed between adults and teens.

In the twenty-first century, generation gaps seem larger than ever. In fact, it even seems like there are more "generations." The adolescents of five to ten years ago had an extremely different experience from those of today. Case in point: This afternoon a student was lamenting to my twenty-something male assistant that her teachers just "didn't get" her attachment to her phone. "YOU know what it's like," she said to him, thinking that the young man would understand because he was still young too. "Actually," he told her, "We didn't really use cell phones when I was in high school."

Times are changing fast, but we can temper feelings of disconnect through the celebration of a common history. In fact, in our oral history project and through the growth of our archives, exploring our community roots has enabled students to note shared interests and to recognize how things sometimes come full circle.

Oral history is a strong tool for building community and tying generations. And, oral history projects are something in which a child of any age can participate. All you need is a voice recorder -- your cell phone will do, or an MP3 players like we used. It was surprisingly easy for the kids to use and to make our visitors feel comfortable.

Goffstown High School c. 1987.
Goffstown High School Archives.

We prepared students for an event with five interviewees by giving a short tutorial a couple of weeks ahead of time. We focused on how to ask questions, what to ask, how to keep people talking, and how to keep silent while people told their stories. On event day, students were eager to listen and adults were eager to share. They learned a lot from each other. Then, we backed up our completed recordings to store in our archives and uploaded copies at The Voice Library for safekeeping and easy access.

Now, students are eager to talk to more people who once traveled through the halls they know so well. These walls have stories to tell and it is our intention to capture them. We want students to know that what they experience today is built upon the experiences of those who came before us. Coming full circle and to the realization that we are connected is a very powerful thing.

Book Review: The Unofficial Family Archivist on Eastman's

Family letters in boxes are a regular
of the world of archivists and
genealogists.

This week, I'm pleased to link to a review of The Unofficial Family Archivist from Eastman's Online Genealogy Newsletter, a very well respected genealogy publication. I am glad that the genealogy community is finding the book useful. I have come to learn much in the past few years about this enthusiastic group. I am honored that these talented professionals have given me space in their newsletter and have recommended my writing to others interested in the work of family history.

The Unofficial Family Archivist  seems to be filling a gap between professions. Most archivists focus on personal papers or institutional records housed within organizations. However, more and more archivists are recognizing the value of outreach for exploring what materials individuals have in their homes that fill gaps in the historical record. More archivists are attempting to help individuals with their own papers, such as in Massachusetts where they have the Mass Memories project. More archivists are recognizing the value of the family stories of "regular folk." More archivists still need to recognize the need for and the opportunity that they have to teach their larger communities how to care for such materials.

Simple acts such as cleaning,
boxing, and foldering  personal papers
can greatly increase their longevity.
Archivists should share their simple tips
to help communities

 

I was pleased to have the opportunity to speak with genealogist Marian Pierre-Louis on her radio program "Fieldstone Common" in December, 2012. We discussed about the role individuals play in caring for community history through their personal stories. More recently, I presented the topic of caring for family papers as part of the Boston Public Library's "Local and Family History Series." I look forward to continuing and developing my relationship with the genealogy community so that we may better understand each others' needs and boost each others' work.

Genealogists, as much as any other community I know, care about the work that archivists do. Professionals in the genealogy field are savvy researchers, smart networkers, and passionate advocates. They track down lost information and few whom I've met give up until they find it. As I've said in the past, archivists would do well to seek out genealogists and welcome them to the archives. Focusing on our mutual interests will enhance work and outreach in both fields. Thank you genealogists for caring and for giving me such a fine reception into your world.

Boston Public Library Local & Family History Lecture Series

"The Boston Public Library's Local & Family History Lecture Series is in its 10th year of sharing information about the history of Boston and its neighborhoods along with tips and guides for those beginning their own genealogical research."

I am pleased to be included among the speakers at this year's BPL Local and Family History lecture series. I will be at the library on January 23rd at 6pm. The librarian emailed the following when she asked me to participate, "Your quote 'We can each have some control over the history that is remembered when we maintain and make plans for our own documentation' brings the history and the genealogy together."

Getting this message out to genealogists [and others] is important. Often caught up in the history of the past, we forget about the history of the future. By that I mean, we need to remember that the things we do today will be important to our descendants. We need to be aware as we search for answers about our ancestors that we can also leave clues about ourselves. We are not just digging for history -- or in my case saving the records of history -- we are also living history.

While in the past we did it somewhat shoddy job of recording and keeping information about how we lived, we have an opportunity moving forward. We have tools and awareness of the value of history that can help us share what we know with future generations. As a genealogist or person with an interest in local history and family stories, YOU are responsible for telling your story. How will you be remembered? What do you have to say to others? What does your life represent? And, not only is this a responsibility, it is an opportunity to think about and live your life as you want -- to evaluate who you are and how you want others to begin to think about your place in history.

You are the center of history

My life is a blip on a timeline of history, but it is ON that timeline. Each one of us is important. We have the power to help our memories survive by documenting them and thoughtfully passing them on. It is the stories of everyday life that count. It is these stories that help us better understand societies and how the "common man" functions, survives and changes. As part of larger communities, individuals help mold those communities. Whether we are aware of our impact or not, our participation in anything changes that thing. I have found that being aware of this makes the study of history more significant and allows me to better understand my role and purpose in the world.

My presentation, "The Unofficial Family Archivist" will help arm you with techniques for telling your stories. I hope to make you realize (if you don't already) how life's little moments are what make you and what makes your communities. How do you find, record, and save the stories that surround you that are worth telling? My books on archives, communy and memory provide a little more focus with worksheets to assist. [I didn't want to make this blog post a book sales pitch, but I do think the tie-in will be helpful to some.] I hope that you will join me this Wednesday if you are in the Boston area. Come tell me YOUR stories. I love hearing about what is important to other people. Not only do I like growing my personal network, but, selfishly, learning about others helps me better understand myself too. I look forward to seeing you soon!

Flawed Stories and Diverse Perspectives Part I of II

One of the first memories I have of "history" is sitting with my mother in front of her jewelry box while she told me the stories behind each treasure. There were stories about my grandparents escape from Poland embodied in the my grandmother's amethyst. There was the story about my mother defying her dad to get her ears pierced. There was the story about the first token of love that my dad bought for his bride-to-be. Mom and I have reminisced about this time we shared together. We both treasure those memories and I have begun using my own jewelry box (though not as exciting as mom's) to communicate stories to my youngster. The stories I remember are probably flawed. In fact, when mom told the stories they were probably flawed. The stories are not written anywhere. They are memories. We often take these memories for granted until it is too late to make sure they are accurate. I was surprised when one of my memories about our time together did not match my mother's. I expect inaccuracies in the historical stories I hear. I do not expect inaccuracies in my own remembrances. This has effected me deeply enough to prompt me to write about it.

According to my memory, mom kept her jewelry in a blue Tupperware box. there was a large space below a removable tray that had compartments where she could store things separately. I remember it distinctly. Mom says that she never kept her jewelry in such a container. I can even picture the worn clear plastic top that we could zip around the edges to close the box. I even think that she gave this box to me for me to keep my own jewelry in at some point. We never took a photo of it. We never wrote anything about it during the years it was a central part of our mother-daughter bonding experiences. It's gone. It seems a valuable piece of a long ago story, flawed by my lack of documentation. Perhaps I can meld it into an amusing tale about the playful, yet somewhat serious, argument my mother and I had about this item. ("I distinctly remember it! How can I be losing my mind at age 40!")

As a mom, I am eager to record the most important memories of my family. As an archivist, I know this is a weighty task. Which memories do we value most? What tidbits make up the most important aspects of our lives together? What day-to-day events best reflect who we are, how we relate to one another and how we should be remembered? We all have flawed stories. Everything we know about history we know because someone recorded something. On a grand scale, what tales from the past have not been recorded? What keystones of historical truth never made it to an archival repository and thus never made it to historical record?

I have recently begun an earnest search for my own family genealogy. We have lots of missing information. Some of it I expect I may never find. I wonder the likelihood that records from my grandparents' destroyed Polish city remain. But I have identified the repository most likely to have the information that I need and I will put my family's historical fate into the hands of the archives there as I write overseas searching for an elusive marriage record. They just might hold the evidence that at least pulls some of my flawed stories together. The Archives stands for hope and truth.

Does it matter if our stories are flawed? I think it does. Archives protect the resources that elucidate actuality and thus help us better understand the circumstances surrounding humanity's actions. In so doing, archives help us better understand each other. From this place they allow us to more easily sympathize with others and better communicate with one another based on commonly shared knowledge. Though my argument with my mother over her jewelry box is not the end of the world, I am sure that I am right. She is sure that she is right. We have no proof. We have a small wedge of misunderstanding. Saving the "evidence" of our history is important on a broader scale for the same reason.

What happens when the "evidence" is contradictory? What if I have a picture of mom's jewelry box, but when we look at it, we interpret it differently? (I can picture the discussion: "Well that certainly looks like Tupperware to me!" "Not to me, it looks like velvet and it's red not blue!") Stay tuned next week as I consider diverse perspectives...

A genealogist and an archivist walk into a cemetery....

No...this isn't the start of a good joke. Instead, it may be the start of something more wonderful.

This past week, I had a lovely networking meeting (aka "tweetup") with a genealogist colleague I met through Twitter. We decided it was worth getting to know each other off-line because we keep bumping into each other online, our interests intersecting in many places. We were thinking of meeting for coffee. However, one of the main interests we have in common is visiting old cemeteries. I suggested we should meet at one. My companion later laughed while were examining gravestones and told me that she herself had almost suggested a graveyard tweetup, but decided not to because she thought that I might find it too strange. Indeed, on my drive down, I told one of my closest, non-history professional, friends that I was heading to a business meeting in a graveyard. She responded with silence on the other end of the phone. And since that particular friend is rarely silent, I know that she must have been thinking some strange things about me!

But, when you feel comfortable bouncing loony ideas like cemetery meetings off of someone, you know that you make a good match. For me, big and sometimes strange ideas have usually led to big and exciting developments. My brain is twisting and turning with ideas about how my new genealogist / house historian friend can mesh with my archivist / cultural heritage professional self. The idea of bringing together the people who care for historical resources and the people who use them in some kind of collaboration is exciting. We often sit on opposite sides of the fence, so to speak. Archivists, curators and librarians are seen standing guard over materials, providing access to researchers such as genealogists. But I think that the more we share ideas, the more we strengthen ourselves and the study of history. Whether caring for records or pouring through them looking for specific information, those who come in contact with the materials spot information and learn things  that can help others with related history promoting goals. That's a good thing. Our professions, in my opinion, should meld together to help us all elicit multi-faceted views, descriptions, and critical ideas about historical materials.

The stories we can discover in a graveyard, such as this of
family members that died within days of each other, are
backed by historical records and the research of those in
diverse history fields. We have more in common than
we realize on the surface. Our professions bring together
diverse community knowledge.

I live north of Boston. My colleague lives south. We met half way in the lovely town of Chelmsford, Massachusetts. She and I chatted about gravestones as one aspect of material culture. The landscape on which a graveyard sits and the houses surrounding it are one part of a community story. The records about the people in the houses and those buried at the cemetery are sitting up the street in the historical society and town clerk's office. The people who visit the graveyard, the stones themselves, their carvers, and the people who repair them provide more dimension to a community story. Though as history professionals we have each chosen to specialize in an aspect or two of that story, we are each adding to the same community tale. A graveyard was indeed a perfect place to focus on the similarities between a genealogist and an archivist. Combining our strengths will help us and others better understand the resources we collect, seek, and make available and will open up new avenues for developing the stories that one can build from those resources.

Right across the street from the cemetery was a coffee shop. After our jaunt among the stones, with chilled insides, Marian and I sat and chatted over a cup of coffee. It seemed to be a nice traditional way to warm cold March hands after a fun untraditional meeting.

***
So how can archivists and genealogists collaborate? This is how some of my colleagues are re-thinking the relationship between archivists and genealogists.

David Ferriero - National Archivist of the U.S. at the Federation of Genealogical Societies on the genealogist as a citizen archivist

Aprille C. MacCay - "Genealogists and Records: Preservation, Advocacy, and Politics" - genealogists as allies for archivists

Gail Redmann. Archivists and Genealogists: The Trend toward Peaceful Coexistence

More Finds at the Local Antique Shop - Research, Dating Photos, and Photographer's Stamps

    
 A photographer's stamp is usually the best clue to help us date a photograph. While this gentleman's style of dress and hairstyle are quite distinctive to a particular period, the lucky addition of our photographer's name helps us get a pretty precise idea of when this image was taken.

We are fortunate that the Library Services Committee of the Western Michigan Genealogy Society compiled this list of Grand Rapids area portrait photographers from the local city directories. (Oh how I love genealogists!) Mr. John Goossen practiced for nearly 40 years, but was located at 121 Monroe Street, the date stamped on our photograph, for only about five of these years.

The Internet is a wonderful resource for dating images, sending us in the right direction for our research. If I were researching this information for a book, I would call the library and ask them to double check the original resource for me. City directories are a boon for people dating photographs, researching ancestors, performing house histories, completing biographies and tracking changes in neighborhoods. My most memorable request from a patron that involved the use of city directories and reverse directories for research was to determine the original use of a building. (City directories list residents by name while reverse directories list by address.) The owner of the building came to me to prove that his edifice was once a two family structure. According to the patron, he wished to re-purpose his home to once again make it fit for two families and the City was not allowing him to do so. They claimed that it was always meant for just one family and he set out to prove them wrong. (He did!)

Researching the history of this photograph and trying to identify the subject would take me to Grand Rapids to look for the photographer's collection. Some photographer's collections are donated to repositories and serve as valuable documentation of local citizens and are remarkable for the way they reveal local history and character.

So when trying to date or understand more about photographs, remember that sometimes it is not the image itself that is key. Look at the reverse side of a photo for a photographer's stamp and seek resources beyond the image itself.

History is Personal

I first became interested in studying the past when my mom told me about our family history. She described some of the most significant changes and poignant events of the 20th century through her eyes and those of my grandparents. I think about things such as the Holocaust, immigration, changes in food consumption and preparation, labor, religion, healthcare, women's rights, the assassination of John F. Kennedy, the Beatles. Events such as these, both recent and historical, can be related through my family lens.

To me, history is not about strange faces and places. It is about my grandmother's heart disease and the "cure" that seems to have led to the leukemia that caused her death. Her generation seemed like it was moving far from a dark age when disease was an expected norm, but yet a simple cure for her was elusive. We have come far for the health care we have today. In a system that is far from perfect, we often see mistakes, but we forge ahead building on discoveries and experiments of the past.

History, to me, is also about my mom who was forced to return home after walking to school in pants during a snow storm. Girls at Theodore Roosevelt High were required to wear skirts, no matter the weather, with little concern about their physical and mental well-being. I am thankful that my daughter can wear the dresses she loves in elementary school, but will be able to permanently put on pants if she wants to when her girly-girl phase is over. I think of the Queen Elizabeths, the Rosie the Riveters, and the women burning bras who helped us reach our 21st century enlightenment on this issue.

In my mind, history is my grandparents' escape from hatred, to a new place where they could lay out a life that would lead to me. It is wrenching that this particular aspect of history repeats itself over and over again. If we know the past, we understand this truth. Recognizing perpetual intolerance can help us break it. History can help us recognize that humanity has struggled with fear and bigotry throughout time, make us better understand the role it plays in our own lives, and hopefully help us carefully think out and monitor our own views and actions.

As this Labor Day week continues, I think of the further struggles of my grandfather, who pressed clothes in New York City to feed his family. I laugh at how I hate to iron and the comforts I now have that make it unnecessary for me to do so if I don't really want to. I think about my grandmother picking out a live chicken at the urban butcher and waving it over her head until the neck snapped so she could prepare a meal. I am conscious of how far removed I am from my food, trying to plot out next year's vegetable garden so that I can taste something fresh and retain a bit of past pleasures. I think about my sister and me tossing cherry tomatoes from mom's garden into the air so that we could catch them in our mouths, a summer treat that can continue for generations if we make a little effort.

History to me is my parent's taste in music, which means something different to me than it once did because I now have a daughter of my own. I sit and listen to Taylor Swift with my child and then I turn on the Beatles. I've told her the stories of grandma sneaking into the Rock Stars' hotel to meet them. I know that my little girl's young excitement for a female singer will possibly one day turn into the same kind of frenzy for a young male musician that her grandma had for Paul McCartney. And while I love baroque music, I also love Nirvana -- I teach my daughter that it is okay and even preferable to have tastes spanning the ages and generations. It is okay for her to be a Beatles fan too.

I wonder about how I can play up the good in life and cut down on the bad for the future. I remember my mom's words about the killing of John F. Kennedy. I think about how she related that she will never forget where she was or exactly how the event played out. I relate it to my memory of when Ronald Reagan was shot. I think about other tragedies from my life. I remember my brother calling me to relate the news when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I remember calling my mother-in-law and watching with her as the second plane hit. I remember feeling the need to run out and buy flags to hang from my windows...

When my mind needs to go farther back than my own lifetime or beyond the stories from recent generations that have been passed down through the family, I imagine myself in a specific time and place while thinking about how my role in life would differ under different circumstances. It doesn't matter when one is born, the fundamentals of being human don't change. Our emotional attachments and physical needs will always exist, though the ways we choose to deal with them may alter. As I approach a milestone birthday this month, I remember that I am not the only one to ever have been in this place where a change from a younger adult to an older (wiser?) one seems really marked and poignant. I wonder what pieces of my story and the life that surrounds me will be a focus for my ancestors. What aspects of history that occur over and over again or show measurable societal growth and change demonstrate themselves in my story. History is personal. It is about me. It is about my loved ones. It is about the shared humanity of us all.
**
Here are positive thoughts for myself during this milestone month:

Never forget, but let there be healing.
Don't be afraid to grow up, but stay young at heart.
Treasure your heritage and treat it appropriately.

Life Stories

History is made up of life stories. Learning about and analyzing others' lives helps us define who we are and who we want to be. It helps us understand how society functions, why events happen, and how we can change situations. History helps foster compassion, allowing us to compare other life stories to our own, encouraging us to try to put ourselves in another person's circumstance. The study of individual stories helps us plan our actions with an awareness of how similar situations played out when certain procedures were followed.

Much has been written about the importance of history, but the idea of individual life stories is often given less significance. There is a focus on the role of events themselves, groups, or institutions. The individual stories collected by genealogists, oral historians, and others offer much evidence about the functions of society. These stories should be cherished by the archivist and the idea of the value of individual stories should be presented to our audiences.

Much of what people think and act upon is never recorded. Documented history is often based on what is found and this includes materials created during day-to-day activities that often exhibit surface details - who was involved, what was the event, and what was the product. Many times the information about why decisions were made, how many concepts were rejected until the solution was accepted, and how individuals dealt with conflict are not recorded. These details relate directly to individual stories that can be gathered for history through supplementary oral histories, as well as writing projects. Much is being done by institutions in the oral history department, but not so much in the journaling arena.

Diaries are a boon to the historian when they are found, but people often do not keep journals. Can and should an archivist encourage local community members to record their own personal life stories to boost the evidence we can leave for posterity? I think that encouraging journal writing (or the creation of personal recordings for those who don't like to "put pen to paper") can be an integral part of an archives program. Individual stories that are recorded when a person is comfortable can help individuals bring out information about themselves that they cannot access in other ways. Whether one likes to silently contemplate, listen to music, be among a group of other writers, sit outdoors, or in one's room, the act of sitting and recording one's thoughts can bring out ideas that are not expressed in other ways or in other circumstances.

For motivation to start your own journaling projects to promote community documentation, the following links are useful. Please add more links if you have some or comment to promote your own diary documentation projects

written on the margins: Girls’ Diary Writing as Cultural Production
National Diary Archive
Library and Archives of Canada:Behind the Diary, Introduction: Life Writing
The Online Diary History Project
Do History: Martha Ballard's Diary online

Making the Past Seem Real to Children

I was invited to my daughter's school to teach her first -grade class about my occupation. From my 6 year old daughter's enthusiastic recall of other parents' presentations, I know that my talk is following these parents who have already spoken to the class: a police officer, a dentist, and an engineer. Regarding the engineer, my little student reported, "Mommy! He brought us lightbulb key chains!" I am bringing in archives gloves.

I feel a responsibility to my profession related to this upcoming presentation. 1. I fell in love with history in the 5th grade. 2. I indexed the scrapbooks at the Vanderbilt Mansion in Centerport NY as part of an honors project in high school, but I don't recall learning the word "archives" until college. I wonder how many budding archivists whose attention I can capture at a very early age.

In an effort to back up any observations I make in this post with data, I did a little research and ran into this article, Teaching History in the Elementary School http://www.ericdigests.org/pre-928/history.htm . I am troubled by what it seems to tell me, namely that educators don't think students are ready for history in elementary school and that not enough research has been done to support this belief. Am I misinterpreting what the writer is saying?!

My daughter is an American Girl fan. So am I. I have never seen anything that has so effectively opened a young girl's eyes to history. A couple of years ago, my little one discovered the American Girl books before she discovered the dolls. She realized that the people about whom she was reading were different from her -- they wore different clothes, ad different beliefs and experiences. She and I sat down to talk about why. I made a family tree that showed her relatives back to grandma and grandpa. I showed her on our genealogy chart that her grandparents were born a little after the story of the American Girl depression doll, Kit, took place. I told her that my early childhood took place when Julie's story did - in the age of bell bottoms. She understood and was eager to learn more. She could identify with the stories and could relate them back to herself and the people she knows. We then started going back farther and learning about the Victorian doll, Revolutionary era doll and others.

My daughter learned about Native Americans from New Hampshire in school last autumn. We went on a field trip to see a museum about them and a replica of their home. My daughter got to try on an outfit like a girl her age living in the woods a few hundred years ago would have worn. I have not heard about another similar lesson in her classroom since that time. Is teaching history in elementary school lagging? Is teaching history secondary to reading, writing and arithmetic at this point? I hear about her math and reading projects everyday. Should these take precedence? Do we just think that kids won't be able to grasp the concept of history as the aforementioned article seems to suggest?

I am heading into the classroom wondering if I can specifically teach archives and relate it to history. (At least the kids will learn to recognize the word "archives" before I did.) I plan to introduce 5 vocabulary words and concepts: history, archives, archivist, preservation, oral history. I will ask "what is history and how do we know about it?"
- I have a box of old photos of children and families as well as some other interesting old documents that I can show the students. (They can look at little boys in funny dresses and laugh about how even boys once wore dresses.) I carry mementos found on trips to antique stoes in an archives box. I can use them to talk briefly about how to preserve and organize items that are important to their families. They can wear the archives gloves so they can feel like real archivists.
- I will focus on the types of historical materials kids can find around their house and what they tell about their families...they can learn things from these materials such as what their parents were like as kids or even favorite family recipes.!
- I'll also mention how libraries, archives and museums keep records like they have in their home to tell stories about people. These stories are our history.
- I'll talk about how many things that are important to us are not recorded - maybe no one took pictures of that day or wrote an e-mail about an experience. Maybe someone forgot to bring a camera to take a picture of a first soccer goal or recital. When this happens, we can write down something about the event to help us remember -- maybe keep a journal.
- We can also learn about the lives of other people by asking questions and writing down the answers so others can learn about them too. I'll have handouts of questions that the kids can bring home to ask a family member or friend to do an oral history.

I'll report back my own findings at the end of the week. Stay tuned...

Passing Family Stories through Generations

my article in Parenting NH "Chit Chat" March 2010