What's History?: Museums

As part of my recent research travels, I visited the National Museum of American History. I was fortunate enough to receive a Travel Research in Equity Collections (TREC) award, so I was able to meet with one of the historians of disability I most admire, curator in the museum's Division of Medicine and Science, Dr. Katherine Ott. I first became interested in disability history in a course which used Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics, the volume she edited along with David Serlin and Stephen Mihm. Her contribution to that volume fascinated me at the time; her recent theoretical work on the special role of material culture in disability history has informed my PhD scholarship.

In preparation for meeting up with her, however, I revisited Making Disability Public the interview she gave to David Serlin for the Radical History Review. 2005 Smithsonian exhibit she curated, Whatever Happened to Polio? as well as the 2000 exhibit for the anniversary of the ADA about the disability rights movement. In the interview, Ott and Serlin discuss what it means to do public history, and Ott's approach to both exhibits supplies one possibility: to center the public, not medical establishments or curatorial voice, in the creation of an exhibit. This is accomplished through talking to affected people (in the case of these exhibits, people with disabilities and polio survivors) through surveys, interviews, or conversations, and "serving as the medium for [these] stories" (200), as well as letting the objects available guide the direction of the exhibit (205).

The piece is delightful for a variety of reasons: it is conversational and easy to read, yet both participants' contributions are deeply thoughtful; there are discussions of academic versus public history which not only value both spaces but offer insightful insights into the workings of each space and the considerations necessary to inhabiting both spaces. There are obvious points of interest to professional historians of all types. There are also elements which are clearly valuable to a class on disability history or disability studies. But on this reading I began thinking for the first time of how much I'd like to share the insights of this piece with the students I most frequently teach, those taking a more general, lower level introductory course. 

Many students come into history classes thinking that they are there to learn facts and straightforward narratives about history, when most people who teach college-level history will tell you that a large part of their goal is to teach broad skills-- the practices of interpretation, research, writing, and critical thinking that are applicable to many arenas outside the discipline. Many courses end up being a combination of these two attributes. But there's also a third element which often is considered only relevant to those who intend to pursue the major. This is the idea of specifically historical practice, the way in which history is done and made. I have a real passion for incorporating these ideas into courses which are not for majors, which are relatively low level, and which are ostensibly about a variety of other topics.

To me, it's critical for students who never dreamed of studying history professionally to know how history is made-- to learn how its made is to have some conception of how to judge the quality of the history that someone may be trying to teach you. Though some of them wish to learn discrete facts which they can use to build a knowledge base, some of them are less excited to learn that the process of finding and building these facts into a transmittable narrative is both subjective and laborious. Public history, especially in the form of museum exhibits, is a critical way in which history is made and transmitted-- yet it is so rarely interrogated in general history classes.

Not all aspects of this interview will be of interest to most students I teach. A discussion of the many problematics of the concept of "public(s)" (199) may not play a leading role in a discussion I might have of this piece with my class. However, the detailed discussion of the way museum exhibits are built and the idea that there are multiple goals one can have with an exhibit is something that I think would play a valuable role in classroom discussion.

As an assignment to go along with this article, I would encourage students to head to a local museum and visit an exhibit. They should try to figure out how the artifacts available informed the creation of the narrative, and whether it is "object driven" or "narrative driven" (209).

Other potential questions include:

Audience interviews about the polio exhibit suggested that age informed people's interest in a polio exhibit (207). What do you think a breakdown by age of the exhibit you viewed might look like?

Take a survey of interest in the topic of the exhibit from at least five people from two of the following groups:

Under 25s

25-30

30-35

35-40

40-45

Over 50

What role does emotion play in the exhibit you viewed?

Did your exhibit have a comment station? What would your comments be?

How would you redesign the exhibit, and to what end?

Anything else you'd like a discussion about museums to focus on at this level? Questions about the piece? Let me know in comments or email! 

Related Links:

A digital version of the polio exhibit. 

For Illinois affiliated folks, logging in at this link should lead you to Serlin, David. 2006. "Making Disability Public: An Interview with Katherine Ott." Radical History Review no. 94: 197-211. Academic Search Ultimate, EBSCOhost (accessed October 29, 2017).

Reacting to Reacting: The First Church in Northampton, MA

Sign outside of church, Northampton, MA. A link to the sign's text can be found here. 

Being in Northampton is wonderful because one is surrounded by women of all ages who seem both smarter and more fashionable than you, and yet somehow it is motivating and not discouraging. Hence it was a little jarring to come upon this sign reminding me of the Trial of Anne Hutchinson, a Reacting to the Past Game I taught in my classes last year which, despite the title, features no women as playable characters --as a General Court of the period would not have contained any women.  (See a post from the OAH blog at http://www.processhistory.org/youre-gonna-make-us-do-weird-role-playing-games/ for a description of both Reacting and The Trial of Anne Hutchinson by Mark Carnes, co-author of the Hutchinson game and Reacting Consortium Executive Director.)

In this game, it's 1637, and a variety of men of the Massachusetts Bay Colony have gathered to determine whether or not Anne Hutchinson, local religious thinker and midwife, should be banished from the colony. Her crime? Well, that's sort of complicated. Were I to tell you much more, I would spoil the fun, but suffice it to say that those who have played the game come to a variety of conclusions about the charges and her guilt or innocence of them (but no, she's not a witch-- though some of these same Puritans' relatives will also be involved in the Salem Witch trials toward the end of the century. Puritan life was rife with religio-legal drama).

John Cotton plays a critical role in this game-- a noncommittal teacher whom all look up to, both pro and anti-Anne members of the General Court want to win his favor. Cotton is also in a precarious position within the conflict, not wishing to abandon any of his admirers or to upset the power players on the General Court. Historically, Anne is banished; Cotton escapes unscathed, becoming more conservative over the rest of his life. I give these historical details and more in the postmortem to the game (facts about the fate of their character which any student could look up were they inclined, so I'm not giving away any trade secrets here). During this postmortem, a clear theme emerges-- these people, and their descendants, have their mitts all over American history, especially on the East Coast. John Winthrop, Governor and main authority in the General Court, is perhaps the most famous example-- still quoted by a wide variety of politicians, he originated the "cittie on a hill" phraseology which has inspired many American-exceptionalist ideas. His son founded Connecticut and John Kerry is one of his notable descendents.

John Cotton has similarly notable descendents, particularly Cotton Mather, John Cotton's grandson who is known for his New England ministry and his historical writing (and, those darn Salem Witch Trials again!) This sign brings in another connection--  Eleazar Mather, cousin of Cotton Mather, was Northampton's first minister.

This tidbit suggests the reach of some of these families, a stark contrast to the way you meet them in the game. Despite some of their achievements and connections, or their apparent control over the colony, the colonists of Massachusetts Bay in 1637 are a small group in a tenuous position-- they're afraid of England; of attack by local Pequots, with whom they've recently warred; of sin, which lives within themselves; of one another, whose indiscretions threaten to bring down the wrath of God or England upon all of them.

Another connection to the problems and aftermath of the Hutchinson trial is the "Halfway Covenant" promoted by this church's second minister, Solomon Stoddard.

 Previously, to join Puritan churches, parishioners had to stand before the assembly and tell them how they came to know that they were part of the elect few who were saved. During the Anne Hutchinson game, a third of the students play the roles of newcomers to the colony, who have to be admitted to the church before they can vote on the Anne matter in the General Court or pursue their own individual goals effectively. They do so through their comportment, the hope that no one can discredit them, and, most importantly, writing and presenting a conversion narrative. As illustrated by Hutchinson's case, the churches' main concern was restricting membership to "visible saints" who were definitely elect.

For example, here's John Winthrop's conversion narrative. Note the detailed chronological retelling of one's life experiences; the confession of one's sins; changing behavior as evidence of becoming sanctified  ("the great change which God had wrought in me", pp 6) and yet the lasting struggle with sin ("continual conflicts between the flesh and the spirit", pp 12); yet, ultimately, assurance that he is elect ("when I have been put to it by any sudden danger or fearful temptation, the good spirit of the Lord hath not failed to bear witness to me, giving me comfort, and courage in the very pinch", pp12).

Fast forwarding thirty years or so, the exclusivity of the church resulted in reduced membership and thus a reduced power over public life. The Halfway Covenant allowed children of church members to be baptized into it (though as only "half," not full, members) without having had a conversion experience. This would increase church membership and address the issues that arose with second and third generations of Puritans, who wanted their children baptized within the church but often lacked a dramatic conversion to share. John Wilson, Pastor of the Boston Church at the time of the Hutchinson trial, supported the Halfway Covenant when it was proposed-- meaning that the arduous process that immigrants to the colony were forced to go through was downgraded in importance for the children of baptized members.

Why is this interesting? The church and sign showcases the reach of ideas and families across space and time (and suggests the familial ties between different New England cities), and illustrates the way a single place can echo to a variety of disparate, nationally relevant ideas. 

Questions? Comments? Send them my way! 

Related links:

Description of the Anne Hutchinson game on the Reacting site.

Winthrop's narrative at the Massachusetts Historical Society.

Winthrop's journal at archive.org.