- Necessary Nuance
- Posts
- Who decides what we remember?
Who decides what we remember?
Possessing an item is not the same as preserving history
Welcome new subscribers! If you like what you read, please consider forwarding this newsletter to someone else you think would enjoy it. And if someone forwarded this newsletter to you please consider subscribing!
About a month ago I stumbled upon an article by Isa Farfan about what happened to the art in the Columbia student encampments. It’s well worth a read, but the top-level story is that when the Columbia University Apartheid Divest (CUAD) encampments were broken up in the spring some of the protest art was destroyed, some was recovered by student artists, and some was retrieved and stored by the University archives. CUAD and student artists want their art back so they can take the lead on documenting and archiving the history of the encampment; the University is returning those artworks, and has also said that they were working to preserve a historic moment. All of which raises questions about archival ethics, knowledge preservation, systems of power, ownership of artistic creations, historical narratives, and lots more.
Does it belong in a museum?
If you are of a certain generation you likely have a memory of hearing Indiana Jones say “it belongs in a museum.” And if the choice is between a museum and a Nazi, I’m 100% with Indy on this. Thankfully, museums and Nazis are not our only choices.
Archivists, curators, and conservators have done invaluable work preserving documents, artifacts, and other historically important items. Indiana Jones’ desire to see cultural artifacts placed in museums speaks to the important role they play; it also speaks to the biases many of us hold about who can be “trusted” to preserve history, and who is (and is not) considered to have agency over their cultural heritage. The British Museum is well-known for its collection of colonial spoils that it refuses to return to their countries of origin (with the support of the British Museum Act of 1963, which prohibits repatriation). Efforts at repatriation have gained momentum in both the UK and the US in recent years, with a particular emphasis on returning human remains to Indigenous tribes. The burden of proof, however, is placed on the tribes asking for the return of ancestral remains; the museums holding the remains do not have to make a case as to why they are the preferred resting place for those remains. A lack of clear record keeping in museums and a cultural bias towards written records being the only ones that “count” only bolsters a museum’s claim.
The argument made by many museums is that they have the resources and expertise to preserve historical artifacts, a belief that can easily tip into an attitude of noblesse oblige. The School for Advanced Research in Santa Fe, New Mexico has developed guidelines for collaborations between museums and Indigenous communities (and shared some case studies), recognizing the expertise that each group can bring. If a museum’s goal is, genuinely, to preserve and promote a shared history we’ll have to really dig in to what we mean by “share,” and what the goals of that sharing are. Without those partnerships and that context, you are not actually preserving anything beyond a specific perspective on and interpretation of history.
Who gets to tell the story?
You’ve probably heard the expression that history is written by the winners, and there has been a growing recognition that the identities of the people who tell the stories influences what stories get told, and how. I’ve worked with lots of students who are interested in learning more about the everyday lives of people throughout history, but those stories are not nearly as well-documented and preserved as those of people with wealth and privilege. And the older an artifact is, the more likely it is that the context in which it was used and created has been lost.
Shifting terminology and norms also impact whose stories are easily findable, and how we interpret those stories. I’ve worked with lots of students who were interested in learning more about gay, lesbian, and trans people in history (and lots of teachers who claim that such information doesn’t exist). But the first written use of the word “homosexual” was in 1868; the term “transgender” dates to the 1960s, and didn’t really come into its current usage until the 1990s. Interpreting history doesn’t mean applying current norms to past events, but it also doesn’t mean that we can ignore context that doesn’t align with current definitions.
The article about the art at the Columbia student encampments quoted Soph Askanase, a Barnard artist and organizer, saying “We don’t want to end up [as] another page on their website. We would like to have control of our own materials and decide how we archive them and who we work with because we’re not really interested in working with the institutions that we’re trying to fight against.” During the initial protests on Columbia’s campus there were a lot of people pointing out the ways in which Columbia celebrates the history of protest on campus, an attitude of celebration that appeared to only apply to past protests. Institutions have a longer history of using other people’s stories in order to bolster their own image or to shape a specific narrative. Museums and archives need to forge genuine partnerships with the groups whose history they are preserving and sharing, and they need to make real efforts to increase the diversity of perspectives within the profession. If they don’t, they won’t actually be sharing history; they’ll be sharing a story that the “winners” of history tell themselves.
Who will preserve today’s history?
As I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve also seen lots of stories about disappearing websites. MTV News’ online archive was taken offline, as was 25 years of content from Comedy Central, joining other news, commentary, and entertainment sites that have shuttered in recent years. As websites go dark, writers and other creators scramble to download and preserve their work, assuming they have enough (or any) notice. But a personal archive of your work is not the same as keeping that work accessible to readers and researchers. MTV News had decades of music journalism, and cultural critics were particularly upset about the loss of their extensive hip-hop archive. The loss of that archive (now partially preserved on the Internet Archive) creates a significant gap in music history. Losing clips from Comedy Central may not seem like a big deal, but The Daily Show (and other programs) have had significant cultural and political impact.
In an opinion piece about the disappearance of the MTV News archives, Michael Alex wrote that “History needs stewards, not owners.” Stewardship extends beyond the collection of physical or digital items, and is not as simple as preserving items for future generations. Stewardship is about making these artifacts accessible to future generations. If our past, and our present, are going to be accessible we need to work just as hard at documenting context and collaborating with creators as we do at collecting.
Thanks for reading! Want to work with me to help your community develop the skills they need to be savvy consumers and creators of information? Get in touch!
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while you may have noticed that I recently updated my logo and color scheme. I worked with Madison Moniz of Deliberately Designed and could not be more thrilled with the work she did and how lovely she was to work with.
Reply