Category: General (Page 2 of 22)

As an archives student at a public history internship site, I had a rather atypical internship experience. My internship took place at the American Social History Project/Center for Media and Learning, where there were no Paige boxes in sight, let alone archivists. Nevertheless, as I conducted a survey of ASHP/CML’s body of institutional records, I managed to learn quite a bit about archives and project management, and face down a few trials along the way.

The American Social History Project was founded in 1981 out of efforts to bring an understanding of social history to non-academics. For over thirty-five years they have engaged in publicly-oriented historical scholarship, curricular and professional development, documentary film production , andsoftware, database and web design, among other educational initiatives. They have been at the forefront of social history education in the public realm since the 1980s, yet only recently have ASHP staff members recognized the importance of preserving their own history. Beginning in January, I was brought into the ASHP offices to conduct a records survey, to help establish intellectual and physical control over their records, and to provide recommendations for ongoing short-term storage, retention, and disposition.

When I arrived at ASHP, my first step was to figure out the institution’s internal organization. I conducted some informal interviews with staff members, read old grant proposals and annual reports, and had a tour of ASHP’s variously located file cabinets, shelves, and boxes.

Next, I moved on to the inventory. For a few days I was content to intensively examine every folder in every file cabinet. I hadn’t gotten through even one file cabinet before coming to the stark realization of just how many linear feet I had left. Partially panic and partially logic drove me to adopt a more minimal “processing” style. I learned to quickly identify a set of related records, date it, eyeball an extent measurement, and move on to the next unit. My newfound understanding of ASHP’s institutional structure was extremely helpful in helping me identify a “shorthand,” a framework that would allow me to use as general terms as possible while still conveying intuitive and familiar information to ASHP staff.

In addition to my initial concerns about the sheer bulk of the collection, I also faced the challenge of the diversity of its formats. As a public history organization operating toward the start of the digital boom, ASHP pioneered the use of digital pedagogical methods. Evidence of this activity can be found in spades, or rather in 8.5 TB of born-digital documentation stored on ASHP’s servers. As a novice in the field of digital forensics, I turned to NYU Digital Archivist Don Mennerich for help; given the great bulk of ASHP’s digital holdings, his advice was to BagIt.

Around 1,000 audiovisual items are also part of the nascent ASHP/CML collection. After consulting with NYU Preservation Archivist Fletcher Durant, I undertook an item-level survey of the room I now call the “audiovisual closet”: three hundred magnetic and optical audiovisual items including audiocassettes, Betacam SP, U-matic, MiniDV, and VHS tapes. While all those items are free of mold and most have labels and secondary housing, I soon learned that they are just the tip of the audiovisual iceberg. Evidently, audio and video recordings are also stored in numerous staff offices, not to mention in the off-site Manhattan Mini Storage unit whose suggestion of diminutive size did nothing to assuage the loss over my plans for an item-level AV inventory.

I produced two “deliverables” for the American Social History Project. One was the inventory spreadsheet I compiled over the course of the semester; the other, a consulting report replete with preservation and records management recommendations, as well as an inventory converted into prose and suggestions for pursuing donor relationships with archival repositories. The consulting report was a valuable counterpoint to the labor-intensive survey I have been conducting this past semester, enabling me to enhance my understanding of audiovisual preservation and the management of born-digital documentation.

For the last three months I have been treking to the New-York Historical Society on the Upper West Side, where the head archivist Sue Kriete has been generous enough to take me under her wing. N-YHS, the oldest historical society in New York, and the second oldest in the country, has a huge backlog of collections and a very interesting history. It was founded in 1804 by a group of “gentleman historians” who wanted to preserve history in the broadest sense. The Society did not develop a concrete collecting policy until late in the 20th century, and consequently they have amassed enormous backlog. While the backlog is considerable, their collections are also diverse and fascinating. With so much work to be done the Society is glad to have NYU interns.

As an intern I was given three small collections to organize that had been in the Society’s backlog for years. The first collection contained three boxes of papers belonging to George McAneny, a reformer, preservationist and New York civil servant in the 19th century. His collection contained correspondence, press clippings, material from events given in his honor and awards. It told the story of a man deeply devoted to the city and to civic reform. He assisted in the consolidation and streamlining of the burgeoning subway system, battled against Robert Moses to protect Castle Clinton in Battery Park, and drafted zoning bills that would later aid in historic preservation efforts. While sifting through the papers I discovered that his son Herbert also had a presence in the collection. The collection was passed on to N-YHS from the Princeton New Jersey Historical Society, where Herbert McAneny had once served as president. In the papers were a number of photographs, correspondence and books that had made it into the George McAneny material. Organizing this collection presented me with the challenge of arranging this varied material, and deciding which materials should be maintained. Ultimately, the McAneny material was given its own series reflecting the passion for preservation exhibited by George McAneny.

The second collection I managed documented a 1980’s preservation effort to turn the area around the Flatiron Building into a historic district. Known at the Ladies’ Mile, the area contains a number of former department stores that were once the center of the female driven consumer culture of the Gilded Age. The collection, the Drive to Protect the Ladies’ Mile, was given to N-YHS by the New York Preservation Archives Project (NYPAP). NYPAP was created to help save material related to the preservation movement in New York, but is not a repository itself, and consequently, the material primarily concerns the people who did the preserving and their efforts. Made up mostly of letters of support, research and administrative material, this collection would be very helpful to researchers interested in historic preservation, but not necessarily of interest to historians of architecture or consumer culture.

Lastly, I worked on the small photographic collection given to N-YHS by photographer Jane Hoffer, who spent four years between 1975 and 1979 interviewing and photographing female police officers in the field. The end result was a rich collection of prints and transcripts that give a lot of insight into the world of policewomen, especially during a time when they were relegated less and less to traffic divisions and desk work. As the only collection with any kind of original order, it was by far the easiest to arrange, however, it contained the least contextual information, so I had to dig a bit deeper. I interviewed Jane Hoffer herself, who is still a working photographer in New York. She provided the information I needed to situate the collection in a broader historical context. Without Jane’s input, I would not have known that a bound photo essay in the collection had been made independent of any exhibits. She also informed me that the photographs had been shown at two galleries and a museum before arriving at N-YHS, and that a selection of photographs from the same project are housed at the New York City Police Museum.

Each collection raised a unique set of problems and questions. The small size of the collections along with Sue’s invaluable guidance enabled me to conquer these challenges. I have described the specific challenges each collection raised, but they also presented me with issues in housing and contextualization. Ultimately, I learned two major lessons from my time at N-YHS. The first: experience is the only way for me to encounter the problems that crop up in processing. I can’t anticipate the kinds of questions a collection will present to me. I can’t anticipate them from a classroom. At N-YHS I was not only able to tackle those problems, but working with Sue allowed me to ask the questions I couldn’t answer on my own. It has set me on the road to preparedness for larger projects, and has certainly given me a framework for the kind of thinking needed to sort out these questions in a way that provides the best, most accessible and appropriately contextualized collections. The second lesson I learned is that N-YHS is a very unique organization, which has experienced the ebb and flows of archival practice over two centuries of collecting. I was given the chance to visit other departments, sit in on meetings and take part in the kind of events that inform the institutional culture at N-YHS. As an intern at a large, reputable institution in one of the most museum and library dense cities in the world, I was afforded a glimpse into the work it takes to maintain such an enormous repository. I saw first hand the way in which the archives, as a department, functions within the larger institutional framework and the direction they are headed in for the future.

Event Program from the George McAneny Papers

Siegel-Cooper Guidebook from the Drive to Protect the Ladies’ Mile Collection

Sergeant Barbara Collins from the Jane Hoffer “On the Beat” Photography Collection

Interview with Professor Michael Gillen

A former merchant seaman, Professor Michael Gillen was later a maritime labor reporter, and an historic site curator. Gillen served as Program Director and Professor of Asian history at Pace University in New York. He also served as director of the project that preserved the Liberty Ship John W. Brown as an operational World War II ship museum in Baltimore. He lives in Lafayette Hill, Pennsylvania. His latest work, Merchant Marine Survivors of World War II: Oral Histories of Cargo Carrying Under Fire was published by McFarland in December of 2014. Professor Gillen will commence a national book tour on May 16 at the Independence Seaport Museum in Philadelphia at 2 P.M.

• How did you first become interested in Public History?

When I first started out, I wasn’t aware that what I was doing was called “Public History.” I spent a significant amount of time conducting oral history interviews of farm workers in Georgia. I was working as the curator of an agricultural historic site and I undertook to interview people who were associated with the farmers in the area. I really enjoyed the process of interviewing. Subsequently, I worked at the South Street Seaport Museum and then the Seafarers Union in New York during which time I began a project interviewing individuals who had served as merchant mariners during World War II. I gained access to these individuals mostly through my work at the Union. These interviews comprise the basis for what would eventually become my recently-published book, entitled, Merchant Marine Survivors of World War II: Oral Histories of Cargo Carrying Under Fire. This book was a long-term project, many years in the making. By the time I applied to NYU’s Public History Program (which was being offered for the very first time) I had pretty extensive experience in the field.

How did you become interested in the Merchant Mariners?

In 1967, after my first year of college, I shipped out in the Merchant Marines because I really wanted to go to sea. I loved the experience of being at sea. I did this off and on for a while, but I was always drawn back to school. As a result of my time as a merchant seaman I met many people who had served during World War II. Many of these individuals had fascinating stories. I met people who had experienced their ships being torpedoed and encountered all kinds of dangers. I was so interested in the stories they told that it planted the seeds for this book project.

• What has been the greatest challenge to working with oral histories?

The greatest challenge in conducting oral histories is learning how to be a good interviewer/listener. This skill came pretty naturally to me because I’ve always enjoyed listening to personal stories, but it is definitely crucial if one intends to work with oral histories. It is important to be loose and flexible enough in a way that allows the conversation to flow naturally and perhaps go in unexpected directions. Sometimes openings present themselves, which an interviewer had not anticipated, but if you adhere too closely to a script or preconceived ideas about what to ask, you can miss these opportunities. It can really be a challenge to allow a conversation to flow and go where it will and must.

• What has your career trajectory looked like?

My involvement with the NYU Public History Department opened many doors for me professionally. During my studies at NYU I was introduced to the chair of the History Department at Pace University in 1987. Shortly after I began working at Pace as an Adjunct instructor. I then began work as Program Director of a program designed to help under-prepared students successfully complete their first year of college. This position required a PH.d., which I had completed in 1991. So my association with NYU’s Public History Program really helped me get established and I believe, made me a better historian as well. The training with outstanding professors really molded me into the historian I became.

• What was the subject of your doctoral dissertation?

Because I was a member of NYU Public History’s founding class, we were given the option of writing a traditional dissertation, without a public history feature. My dissertation was entitled, “Roots of Opposition: The Critical Response to US Indochina Policy, 1945-1954.” I completed this traditional dissertation in 1991. Other students in the program either wrote a traditional dissertation or something in conjunction with a public history project.

Have you had any mentors working in the field who influenced you?

At NYU, my dissertation adviser Marilyn Young influenced my work very much. And I was a teaching assistant in her Vietnam course. I was inspired by her courses and guidance. I also greatly appreciate Professors Paul Mattingly and Daniel Walkowitz for their guidance and support.

• What are your words to live by?

Be interested in the stories that people have to tell. Stories are where our history really comes from. The history of presidents and CEOs are not necessarily the most important, rather, the history of the common folk working on the front lines, represent the best stories. So I would say be a good listener and share those stories with others in the process by various means. That is after all the essence of Public History.

What advice would you give current students embarking on a study of Public History?

Get out there, get out there. Meet and learn from others doing the work, and let them know what you are doing. This in turn often leads to other opportunities for continuing work in the field, and teaching history in so many ways—both beyond and within academia.

About the Book:

Michael Gillen’s fascinating new book, Merchant Marine Survivors of World War II: Oral Histories of Cargo Carrying Under Fire (McFarland) draws on oral history interviews to tell the generally little known and understood story of the civilian merchant mariners.  The author provides us with detailed accounts of the heroic acts of World War II’s unsung heroes, the brave men who often did engage directly in combat at sea while providing armaments and crucial supplies to those on all battlefronts of the war.  By letting the interviewees speak with their own voices, Gillen provides a vivid portrait of the adventures and hardships encountered by merchant mariners on the open sea, and in some cases as prisoners of war.   This book provides us with lively accounts of those who experienced being torpedoed by enemy bombs and takes us step-by-step through the shock, explosions and fear that ensued.  This book will be of interest to anyone interested in military history, the history of World War II, American history and to all those curious about the past.