Portals of Entry

Darlene Clark Hine

In previous columns I have shared thoughts concerning graduate history training and highlighted new field configurations that meet, and anticipate, our profession's present and future needs. In this third column, written against the backdrop of the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the U.S.'s retaliation, I feel compelled to focus on the importance of public history and the public historian's challenge to provide access, to open new portals, and to invite students as well as the general public to study America's past in ways that fit specific-- yet diverse--levels of knowledge, time, and interest.

Events of the past few weeks have pushed the work of academic and public historians to center stage as Americans try to make sense out of a world suddenly and irrevocably changed. The undergraduate students at Michigan State University wanted to know why the attacks happened and what could be done to prevent future assaults. My graduate students asked how to most effectively collect and analyze the facts, and remember and memorialize the September 11 tragedy.

We all seek the broader context, and yet we desire to access the meanings and significance that remain embedded in the rubble of wrecked buildings and shattered lives. Within this context, the demand for the historian's craft and ways of knowing has never been more urgent and necessary. Even prior to the events of September 11, I had numerous conversations with public historians about the important work being done in the public domain--at museums, local historical societies, national parks, historic homes, and governmental agencies among others--and would like to share a couple of examples of the crucial role played by public historians in capturing and passing along the events which make up a nation's past.

Historian Tracy M. Weiss at Millersville University of Pennsylvania brought to the eighty-sixth annual meeting of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History (ASALH) held this past September in Washington, D.C., a group of high school students who dramatized or performed stories of runaway slaves who pursued freedom on the Underground Railroad. Each student had researched in primary sources the life of a particular runaway slave. They drew upon newspaper advertisements, church records, and published oral histories. From such diverse research materials, the students wove select details of escapes into poignant vignettes. In conversations with the students, they revealed that this particular way of "doing" history made them want to learn more about slavery and the times in which slaves lived. It is worth underscoring that both the ASALH and the OAH devote considerable portions of financial resources, and rely upon the writings of many members of our profession, to publish The Negro History Bulletin and the OAH Magazine of History. These unique publications assist precollegiate history teachers in their efforts to help young students to seek and open their own window on American history.

On 5 October 2001 I had a conversation with historian Stephen L. Recken, coordinator of the public history program at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock (UALR). I was in Little Rock attending a press conference announcing the establishment of the William Jefferson Clinton Oral History Project, which is part of the plans for the Clinton Presidential Library.

This project is codirected by historian Jeannie Whayne of the University of Arkansas, and political scientist James Young of the University of Virginia. After the event I spoke with Recken about the thrust of his program--which is geared towards history museum and archival projects--as well as workshops to help community groups preserve their own history.

The Public History Program at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, under the leadership of Johanna Miller Lewis, received a grant from the Winthrop Rockefeller Foundation to plan a major exhibit on Japanese-American internment camps that were located in Arkansas. Lewis also coordinated the faculty and student research and exhibition design to commemorate the fortieth anniversary of the 1957 Little Rock Central High School desegregation crisis. And just recently, the Central High Museum--housed in a restored Magnolia gas station across the street from the high school--has become a National Park site.

Public historians grapple continuously with the challenges of removing the veil of ignorance, giving voices to those long silenced, fashioning new tools with which to uncover hidden assumptions, acknowledging grievances, and helping us respect multiple perspectives as we seek to understand both the past and the present, and anticipate the future. So, while academic historians will write the books that explain these tumultuous times, our public historians will have to design exhibits, create programs and consult on films, documentaries, and media specials. And once the books and monographs appear, our public historians will have to find ingenious ways to display and interpret the new knowledge.

The Organization of American Historians has long recognized the value of public history and valued the collaboration of academic and public historians. I am grateful and proud that the National Council on Public History (NCPH) has once again chosen to hold its annual meeting jointly with OAH in 2002. When we last held a joint meeting with NCPH it was at our 2000 annual meeting in St. Louis. Executive Director Lee Formwalt and I had the opportunity to talk about the St. Louis meeting and our continuing struggle with the Adam's Mark Hotel at the opening session of September's ASALH meeting in Washington. St. Louis demonstrated that you do not have to be labeled a public historian to do public history. In St. Louis academic and public historians brought the history of race in America to the people of St. Louis in the public square, on the candlelight march, and on the front page of the St. Louis Post Dispatch. American historians meeting in St. Louis modeled how all historians can bring what they know, write, and teach about, to the larger public outside of the classroom. In some cases, like in St. Louis, we may feel a moral obligation to breach the walls of the ivory tower and address a wider audience.

Today especially, the public thirsts for a deeper understanding of how events came to be. For this reason, historians, more than ever, should share their insights and create portals of entry for the people in their communities who live beyond the walls of their campuses. Ever since September 11 people have been asking, "how can we help?" Reaching out to this broader community is one way historians can help.