Who We Are in a Digital World

I am growing as a teacher and presenter, relying on my personal stories to deliver messages of history, heritage, hope, compassion, unity, and community.  There is no better way to connect with other human beings than to share stories. We build relationships this way. We build bridges of understanding by demonstrating common themes. I have learned that my stories impact the adults to whom I have always directed information about caring for archives, but similar stories make the same impact on children. How do we get students interested in a subject? Tell them stories about it. More than that, show them that you respect their own stories that they have already identified as important to their lives.

The Bow, NH Rotarians donated a
book to their local elementary school
to honor my visit.

This week, I had the pleasure of addressing Rotarians. A colleague asked me to deliver a short presentation about family history. She told me that her Rotary group has responded favorably to her own stories about her own family history. I decided to tie together some stories of my own for them.

My grandparents
My daughter's pancakes and mom's pizza
My students and encouraging thinking about the future 

In the classroom this week, I spoke about a totally different (but strangely related) subject. I was teaching about being an effective information consumer and distributor.  We discussed branding and the stories that companies are crafting about themselves to sculpt their reputations. I then asked students to turn inward and to examine what kind of personal brand they are creating online.

Like many of us, students are creating an online presence without thought to the digital trail they are leaving and the personal characterization they are sculpting for themselves. Today, our information often is saved before we even have a chance to consider its initial purpose, organization and long-term value.

Digital Life 101 asks young adults to consider their digital lives, the stories they are telling, and the information they are spreading. After viewing the short movie in the classroom, I split students into groups to discuss what they put online and what audiences they are reaching. Do they want all of the stories they share to reach all of these audiences? What personal brand are they projecting? How can they more carefully craft their personal story by using restraint and through the careful management of their social media and other online interactions?

It took me 20 years to craft my stories for diverse audiences. I had time. Our teens might not. By having them identify what is important to them now and by helping them focus in on personal branding, my purpose is twofold:

• I hope to help young people gain a greater awareness of how their life fits in with their larger communities, to feel part of something bigger than themselves, and to gain an appreciation for their place in history.
• But, I also hope to help them realize that the "stories" they tell now, those little bits of information they leave all over the Internet, are precious, potentially dangerous, and open to larger audiences they may not have considered. They may not be talking to Rotarians yet, but their words have potential and can make an impact on our culture.

Stories are powerful. If we don't craft them for ourselves, others will tell the story of who we are. Thoughtfully and deliberately consider your role in this world and the remnants you leave behind. Help the teens in your life do the same.

Copyright in Tangles: The Vivan Maier Collection

In last year's Top Ten Cultural Heritage Stories, I highlighted the woes we are suffering due to outdated law and perverted interpretation. (See list item 5.) The crisis rears its head again, coming to my attention this week with a story about a photographer. It begins as wonderful story about a hidden talent discovered after the death of the artist. I offer you highlights from what I've read thus far as a base to consider some of the issues that must be resolved with copyright law as it now stands. 

Imagine this : perhaps the most important street photographer of the twentieth century was a nanny who kept everything to herself. Nobody had ever seen her work and she was a complete unknown until the time of her death. For decades Vivian’s work hid in the shadows until decades later (in 2007), historical hobbyist John Maloof bought a box full of never developed negatives at a local auction for $380. [Upshout]

I was intrigued. So I did a quick Google search to learn more. I learned that Maloof's interest in the work and life of the nanny photographer grew and he began doing some research.

Thanks to one of the families that Vivian nannied for in Chicago for seventeen years, John was able to acquire items in her two (packed) storage lockers of personal belongings that were going to be thrown in the garbage. Most of what was stuffed in these two units was a giant collection of various found objects such as crushed paint cans, railroad spikes and other tchotchkes, but sandwiched between the clutter, were hundreds of rolls of color film and fresh clues that would take the research into new directions. [Maier web site]

As an archivist, I was impressed by how a collection of Maier's work grew, with Maloof finding personal papers mixed in with the clutter. These papers led him to people who knew Maier from whom he pieced together a fuller picture of her life and her photography work. This work awakens the streets of mid-twentieth Chicago for the 21st century viewer.

[Maloof] spent years tending and promoting [Maier's] work through commercial galleries, museum exhibitions, books and a recent documentary, “Finding Vivian Maier,” that he helped direct. Mr. Maloof hired genealogists to find heirs to Maier in France and eventually paid an undisclosed amount for the rights to her work to a man named Sylvain Jaussaud, whom experts identified as her closest relative, a first cousin once removed.

This work seemed to be a labor of love, but I'm sure it was also lucrative with books written, exhibits held, and attention gathered. This is where the story takes a turn from something that seemed culturally worthwhile to something people began to question:

According to the New York Times an attorney named David Deal claimed that the "situation bothered him so he decided to do some research.  "[He] hired his own genealogists and last year traveled to Gap, an alpine town in southeastern France, home of Francis Baille, a retired civil servant whom he believes to be another first cousin once removed.

Mr. Baille, who had no idea he was related to Maier, agreed with Mr. Deal to seek to be recognized as her heir under American law. Reached on Friday by phone in France, Mr. Baille said, 'For now, I just do not want to talk about this.' But his French lawyer, Denis Compigne, said: 'It’s an extraordinary situation. You can imagine what it’s like to get a telephone call about someone who died that he never knew, with this precious legacy. He is very, very surprised.'

The legal case to determine whether Mr. Baille is Maier’s closest relative has now set in motion a process that Chicago officials say could take years and could result in Maier’s works’ being pulled from gallery inventories and museum shows until a determination is made.

 Many people have risen up to add their objections, to cite their own interests, to use Maier's photos in their own work, and to try to untangle the story of Vivian Maier and her archives. 

Some considerations:

- What is the true purpose of copyright?

- How can this law protect the right of creators while encouraging creativity and progress in future generations?

- How are we inspired by others' work and when do we cross the line into infringing on others' legitimate interests?   

- Is there one "right" answer?

- Is there a way to resolve copyright disputes more swiftly for the public interest, to keep up any momentum of innovation when it is needed?

"Copyright is such a convoluted arena, I don't think anyone really understands it." [The Heart of the Vivian Maier Project.]

To read more about Maier's life and work, and the controversy surrounding her photos see:
- Man Buys 10.000 Negatives At Local Auction. Discovers One of Most Important Street Photographers of Mid 20th Century. Upshout.
- Vivian Maier Web Site
- Vivian Maier: A Photographer Found and More. New York Times.
- The Heir's Not Apparent: A Legal Battle Over Vivan Maier's Work. New York Times
- Finding Vivian Maier
- The Heart of the Vivian Maier Project
- Vivian Maier's Fracture Archives

We Will Be Remembered through What We Post

In this social media driven decade, the way we will be remembered may be reflected in what we post. What we project to the world online today will likely be the information about us that is easiest to gather in the future. Therefore, we must be aware that who we are, at least as far as history is concerned, might be molded by the Internet. In my view, our public face is being melded with what should be a more private side and the reality of our lives is perverted by an online public image. It is up to individuals to consciously create their own personal brand, or suffer the consequences of allowing others to attempt to reconstruct our lives through our random posts and musings.

On the Internet, what we record becomes part of a permanent record of our lives. Today, most people leave behind a great documentation footprint through digital means. It wasn't that long ago when most people did not leave much documentation behind for the world to see. Even 20th century lives are reconstructed from sometimes hard to find sources. We are lucky to find records that tell us about someone's pre-21st century life - handwritten correspondence, diaries and the like formed the personal papers from an earlier period.

A note that a friend penned to me in high school. We would
have been horrified to post these thoughts for others to see.

Remember hiding your diary under your mattress so your younger sister wouldn't find it? Remember passing private notes to friends in class? Today, young people are less likely to draw that line between public and private. Do you have something to say to a friend? Tweet it to the world; put your inner most thoughts in a blog. It's a very different world from the one I grew up in and society has a different mindset from the society in which I was trained as an archivist in the 1990s.

In this second decade of the 21st century, individuals can have more power over how they are remembered. The proliferation of the public records people create by interacting with their government and public groups online are augmented by those writings and postings which strike my generation as more private in nature. Many call this the "age of oversharing." Perhaps after a decade of this, we as individuals need to step back, take a hard look at our sharing habits, and curb our communication. While those sharing information online (the content creators) are sharing more and more, archivists are working to understand more fully the rapid transition our society has made in personal documentation, and we are considering what aspects of it are important to our profession.

Regular readers of this blog know my deep fascination with diary writing in particular. A recent article in the  Huffington Post discussed how the act of diary writing itself is changing and how there are many people who now write diaries for public consumption in a way that hasn't been done in the past. "On some level, when we vent, we want to be heard -- if only by our future selves. Why else would we choose such a permanent format for sorting out our thoughts?" [Crum. These are My Confessions: What Diary Keeping Means in the Age of Oversharing. ] Yet, venting for our future self in a personal journal is very different from online venting. I think this point needs to be more deeply considered by information professionals on every level.

• What online personal content should be worthy of "permanent" status?  And controversially:
• What content should be created? Do information/cultural heritage professionals have a role to play beyond gathering content? Should we also be helping individuals manage their online documentation and help curb the creation of unending documented random thoughts?

A particularly poignant and perhaps egregious example of the way we broadcast without forethought is evident in a high profile 2013 Twitter scandal.  Certainly, Justine Sacco wanted to vent when she wrote the tweets that eventually led to her dismissal from her high powered job, but did she really want to be heard?

As a teacher / librarian / archivist, this issue has an important place in my life. Every day, I watch students create content that shouldn't be shared. I realize the permanence of the words they place online. They do not. I realize how their content is affecting society and can affect their lives. As a mentor, I have a responsibility to help them fully understand how information impacts them. As an archivist, I believe that it would be to the profession's benefit to spread this message to a greater populace. Is the information we are spewing worth the computer space we are using? Computer space is cheap, but the never ending bombardment of gossip and misinformation is not, in my opinion.

We once documented our thoughts for ourselves, to share with a friend in a letter, or in well-thought out speeches. Today, as content creators, a quick thought easily flies out our fingers onto a screen and into what we may perceive as a void. "[the sharing of] our once-discreet musings could be seen as narcissistic -- a strategic move in a quest for validation...But it’s something else, too. When such observations are compiled into a work of art, they become an honest reflection on how we absorb and produce information." [Crum]

Certainly, there is a benefit for informational professionals and historians to have so much now available to us. If archivists can successfully save what is being broadcast, and if we can successfully preserve and provide access to it, we will have an abundance of material to examine, consider and study. Perhaps we will have a rich view of early twenty-first century life and a rich view of how we use information. We will be able to study society through a combined public and private lens that past historians could only have dreamed.

However, I wonder if alternately, this bombardment of information provides an inaccurate understanding of how individuals really function. Does all this information accurately reflect our communities? What role can ideas of personal branding and full understanding of an online image play in protecting documentation that accurately projects our own lives and our times? Can, and should, information professionals craft a salient message to help protect the value of good information versus bad (if indeed there is such as thing as good versus bad information at all)?

From Obituaries to Objects: An Examination of the Human Narrative

Part of the role of cultural heritage professionals is to be safe-keepers of the stories of individuals. Where we once focused on the lives of the well-known, we have now know for a long time that it is the collections of the "common man" that reveal some of the most important aspects of our society. This idea was highlighted again for me this morning while listening to a podcast from NPR's On the Media, I learned that obituary writers re-create the lives of individuals by discovering small moments in a person's life and stringing together a narrative from them. If one believes in the importance of the human story for safekeeping our heritage, one must certainly see parallels in the work of the obituary writer and the work of the archivist.

Before listening to this audio, I did not understand that a good, classic, obituary writer researches people to create an intriguing narrative. Beginning at 34:50 in the podcast (to which I've linked above) is an interview with a reporter who discusses his craft. His goals when writing an obituary are intriguing: "...How can I tell the readers why this life was important? What did you learn from this life? What can I learn from this life?"

I was particularly struck by the reporters use of objects to dig up his story. He explains this first by recounting an experience. He describes meeting a widow who told him that, when her husband first went away to boot camp, she took up knitting. The reporter asked to see some of the things she had knit. "She took out this baby blanket and she told me its story, which was the night before Jim left for Iraq he knew he wouldn't be back in time to see the baby born. So, he slept with that baby blanket because he said that when the child was born he wanted the child to know how his father smelled." The reporter used that for the opening line of  his story the next day - "The soft blue green baby blanket still smells like second lieutenant James J. Catthey..." I believe that those of us who work with objects every day can feel the power of that line and relate it to at least some of the collections we have handled.

In the next piece of the podcast, the reporter uses the example of a shoe shine man to further explain how he reconstructs a life through objects. He recounts the research behind a story about this person who left behind no family when he died. The man's objects were kept in a box in a public administrator's office. From these objects, additional research, and the writing they launched, the author recounts  he life of this well-liked man who made an impact on the people he met. His legacy was sealed by his obituary. Without it, with no grave marking his burial, he would have been forgotten. The loneliness and special nature of the small collection, upon which the small biography of the deceased was built, immediately impressed me and I envisioned a row of archival boxes in a repository with similar stories to tell.

I now understand why some find obituaries so intriguing. To be truthful, I subscribed to the widespread joke that older people read the obituaries "to make sure they are not among them." Of course, I also know of the indispensable role they play for the genealogist. But now, I appreciate that good obituary writers can publicize an individual's impact in this world so we learn and remember that everyone is part of a larger community and a bigger story. How well the profession of obituary writers and archivists fit.

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.

More Finds at the Local Antique Shop - Jubilee Related Ephemera

On the heels of the Queen's diamond Jubilee, I thought I'd post this charming piece of ephemera related to her father.

King George VI is now well known here in the United States because of the recent movie "The King's Speech." I was especially excited to watch the movie last year when I learned that it had a connection to this souvenir I picked up while in Bermuda many years ago. Though it's not a unique piece of history, it is a beautiful and thought provoking one. 

Cartophily is the hobby of collecting cigarette cards. Beginning in the late 19th century, cigarette companies began including cards of popular subjects packaged with their cigarettes. Creating sets of a variety of subjects ranging from sports heroes to flowers, the companies encouraged people to collect them all. They eventually created books, like the one pictured here, so that people could paste their collections in them for safekeeping and easy viewing.

Though not "archives" in the strictest sense of the word, items like this have an important place in family collections and special collections. The story behind this coronation book tells a lot about me. The item itself was mass-produced and is not unique, but its context in my own collection is. I love items related to England. My great-grandmother was English. I most especially love reading about the period of Henry VIII (which is probably very American of me) and I have a bookshelf filled with books about him. I cruised to Bermuda about 15 years ago as a young bride. It was a wonderful trip. Finding a cute little antique shop on the Island was icing on the cake. Finding this book and discussing with my husband whether we should purchase it or not is a vivid memory. Put alongside photos of the trip and this short story about it, this item illustrates a special time in my life.

The item is in very good condition except for a few rusty staples holding it together and some bleeding from the cards onto the book paper. Red is not a very stable color and the beautiful crimson on the cards edges has leached across pages. (You can make that out in this picture if you look carefully.) I am sure that the Bermuda air and open door policy of the antique shop didn't help. The item is now appropriately boxed with archival supplies. I've interleaved thin sheets of acid free paper so that if the bleeding continues it will leach on to the loose papers rather than harming the book itself. I check the papers periodically to see if they are turning red. If they were, I would exchange them for new papers, but they are not. My stable storage environment seems to have done the preservation trick. I've left the rusty staples in to keep the book intact, but I'm keeping my eyes on those too and will remove them should that become necessary. 

I wonder the provenance of this book. How did it get to the Island? Who owned it before the antique shop? But I'm sure that is one mystery I'll never solve. There are no clues as there were with my 1882 diary.

We all keep souvenirs that are important to us and that help shed light on our personal narrative. One should give them similar attention to the letters, diaries and other unique items in our collections.  Make an effort to tell your story about them and use proper supplies to keep them just as I've done here.

***

For more on the Queen's 60th anniversary see her official website. I think it's a little amazing to think that she has an official web site...how far we have come in 60 years!

5 New Ways to Think About Your Personal History

Today I am going to bring together some ideas from my talks, my recent book, and my experiences to help you think about the value of your own personal history. In fact, these ideas are not "new," but I do hope that presenting them this way will help you better understand your place in society and the role your personal papers play. I want you to get a broad view of your personal documentation; to consider how you can approach it and care for it to add to the historical record. [The historical record is the documentation we keep that allows us to look back and better understand our history.]

From the Albert Ryan Collection at Waltham Public Library.
I'll be talking about the influence of one man's collection on
a city at a talk in Waltham this summer.

So, without further ado (I've always wanted to say that), here is the ArchivesInfo 5 for personal history:

1. Others are interested in your story

You say, "But my story is MY story. It's personal. Why would anyone care about MY story?" I've heard this many times. In fact, humanity goes around on personal stories. I used to stand in front of a room and give out information about how to care for your things. I slowly started adding personal stories to my talks. People kept telling me that I'm a good storyteller and that I should add more personal stories. So, I did. I peppered them in with information about preservation and organization and archives management. Then yesterday, I stood in front of a room and did a talk that was pretty much solely based on a personal story. The response that I got was overwhelming to me. The audience loved my story. They could relate. It made them think about their own personal stories.

People want to hear about other people. It's in our makeup. We want to know that we share experiences; that we're not alone. You should tell your personal story because it is a community story. It may seem personal, but it is human and real.

2. Your history is not linear

I was born. I went to school. I got a job. I got married....history and our personal timelines seem very linear, but they are not. They are becoming less linear, in fact. At least in our heads... One of my favorite recent archives project is the project to care for the Salmon Rushdie Papers at Emory University. Rushdie did not only donate his paper files arranged all nice and neatly in folder to the University Special Collections, he also donated his computers. How does an archivist care for one's personal information on a computer so that other can use it and learn from it? That's the question for archivists today and that is something for you to think about too. On a computer our thoughts take many twists. We jump from Twitter to sitting and writing a blog post to doing our bills online. I jump to thinking about my sister on Facebook, to thinking about you in this blog post, to reading emails sent home from my daughter's teachers. Our lives are more than a straight progression. There are many aspects to our lives that tell our story. We should be thinking about it all. What makes us? Who influences us? We shouldn't just think about our milestones. (And my genealogist friends, this goes for your ancestors' history too. Think "What made them tick?" Not just when they were born and when they died.)

3. Your digital files and paper files make up one collection

And Salmon Rushdie leads me to another point...our personal "papers" are not just papers anymore. The sub-headline here is misleading. Your personal papers are your paper files, your audio tapes, your video, and your digital files. (That just seemed a little too long to put in a sub-heading title.) So when you think about the documentation that tells your story, you need to consider it all. Think about it as a collection. This "documentation" spread all over your house can even be brought into one room so you can better see it as a collection. All of these pieces tell the story of you and all are equally important for telling that story. Format doesn't matter. It's the information that matters.

4. You have the power to build a legacy

So with this knowledge comes great power. You have the power to help build your legacy. How do you want to be remembered? Have you recorded all the pieces of your life that you consider worth remembering? What doesn't get recorded will likely be lost somewhere down the line. How do you want your great-great-grandchildren to know you? What do you want them to think about you? What would you tell them if you could meet them in person? What would you tell your future community members generations down the line? What impact have you had on society?

5. You are the center of history

You ARE the center of history. Yes. You. You are the center of history because you matter most to you. Of course you do. And again, history is not linear. We can always swing it back to whatever point we want when we think about it. So, I am the center of history. (Yes, I know that I just told you that you are, but bear with me for a moment and pretend that I am.) I am the daughter of two people who were raised in New York City in the mid twentieth century. They bring with them views born of the Second World War and watching the introduction of the television and the Beatles. They in turn are kids of parents with early twentieth century ideas. Most dramatically, on one side of my family are grandparents who escaped from the Holocaust. (That's the personal story I told you about sharing at the very beginning of this post.) I could go back further to tell you about other family members and the society around them, but you get the idea. Instead, I'm going to spring forward to me, born in the seventies, watching the introduction of the computer, raised on Madonna and Michael Jackson. I will tell you how the generations that follow me will be influenced by what I am living through and my perspective on it. In short, in your case, I want you to recognize a timeline of history with you at the center. People came before you. People will come after you. We are all influenced by our families AND the society around us. We all are reflections of that. Our stories and our documents are reflections of that. Our stories are important to tell because indeed we are the center of history - this non-linear history with twist and turns and webs of events and people who all influence each other.

Consider your papers and mold your legacy. Think of the power of your story to reflect others. Reflect on how your story sits in the middle of developing civilization and how that story is a piece of a much larger understanding of US.

Revisiting Our Historical Communities: Melissa the Riveter

 In March, I blogged about creating a context for our personal images . In that post, I included a photo of me doing something a bit unusual for most people and said, "What conclusions might one draw about me based on this image? What do you think I'm doing here and why? Do you think this is an important part of my story or just a simple snapshot? (This is in fact a highly significant moment in my life and an activity that has an ongoing presence in my household almost ten years after this photo was taken." A reader asked me to explain the story behind it. So here it goes....(Sorry to take so long Jacqi)

In this picture with the safety goggles and goofy grin, I was sitting in our former home where my husband had a remarkable basement workshop. In this workshop, my husband began building his airplane. Yes. It is a real airplane - a two seater that he will pilot in the air and not from the ground. When I tell people that he is building and airplane, they usually think I mean the model airplane kind. Nope. It's the real deal.

The plane now sits in parts in our newer home and at the airport. The completed wings are in the hangar at the airport and I requested (insisted?) that the body of the plane remain on his side of the garage so that I can keep my car on "my" side. We were a little disappointed that we didn't manage to obtain a three car garage for our new home so that my car, his truck, AND his plane could sit comfortably under shelter.

So this picture is of me in the great workshop. The kicker is that I was pregnant at the time it was taken. (pun intended.)  I had been helping my husband build his plane, but about half way through my pregnancy nine years ago I stopped. The baby didn't like the sound of riveting. (Go figure!) Zip, Zoop, bam. (That is the sound of riveting and then a baby giving me a good solid kick in the gut.) "Cut it out Mom!"

A few months down the road as I slept off labor. My husband followed the nurse down the hall of the hospital and peeked in the window where they tested babies' hearing. He held his breath. He was sure that we had damaged her with a few "zip, zoops." Baby is actually perfectly fine, but this image remains to remind me of it all.

I chose to re-address this image today because yesterday I had the opportunity to talk again about our historical communities. I've mentioned in this blog in the past how we should all think about those who helped create a path for us to live in contemporary society. Perhaps most especially, thinking about historical communities is a great way to get kids to appreciate history and to understand what archives are. When I talk to kids, I explain about people in the past who did things that people still love today. A little league player can relate to old photos of Babe Ruth. Dancers (like my babe) can related to motion pictures of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. We all can reach back and find historical figures that shed light on our own activities and interests.

I am proud to call Rosie the Riveter part of my historical community - as a woman, an American, and a riveter!

Video Blog - Presentation on Narrative and Preservation in Derry NH, edited clips

Over the past couple of months, I've done numerous presentations related to caring for personal papers as part of my "Unofficial Family Archivist" New England tour. Recently, the Derry Public Library in New Hampshire invited me to speak and had their local community access station film the event. Here, I share excerpts from my talk. I would like to thank Debbie Roy of Derry Community Television for allowing me to edit and use her recording to share some of my words with you.