The Noble Six Hundred

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints in the sands of time

Last September during my trip to India I found myself in conversation with my aunt, a former principal and history teacher. We talked about our favorite periods in history (mine: colonial America and the Napoleonic era), and those moments of inspiration when everything clicked. There was also the discussion about current events, and how we can see glimpses of past actions in our current situations (with the nod to complexity).

We also discovered our mutual love for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow–more specifically the Pslam of Life.

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

The poem talks about living life to the fullest, that even though each life ended in death, our goal should not include blindly walking towards the end, without fully making our mark, without placing our footprints in the sand…

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again

She gave me a list of her other favorite poems (If, by Kipling; The Mountain and the Squirrel, Emerson; Wander-Thirst by Gould;  Cargoes by Masefield;  and a childhood love-the Charge of the Light Brigade by Lord Tennyson), and with each one I was struck by the incredible imagery that invoked times past.

Like the poem Cargoes by John Masefield which talks of Stately Spanish galleon’s that drip through the tropics by the palm-green shores, and how it is juxtaposed with a Quinquirme of Nineveh from distant Ophir or the Dirty British coaster with a slat-caked smoke stack.

When we write about the past nothing expresses the feeling of the moment than a quotation from someone who was, well, in the moment–but poetry can capture another perspective. Often invoking high emotion it reveals how bystanders react to events around them–as in The Charge of the Light Brigade. Written in honor of a cavalry of British Forces during the Crimean War (1854-1856) that charged opposition forces had casualties of 247 out of 637. “The Noble Six Hundred” they were called–and to this day–their acts are memorialized in a poem read by students all across the world.

When can their glory fade?
O the wilde charge they made!
All the world wonder’d
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade
Noble six hundred

~*~

…and just because I love it so.  Here is Wander-Thirst by Gerald Gould

Beyond the east the sunrise; Beyond the west the sea
And East and West the Wander-Thirst that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye,
For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! The call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But a man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide, a star;
And there’s no end to voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the rivers call, and the road calls, and oh! The call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away
And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun,
And the white road and the sky.
~*~

Some off-site blog posts

If This House Could Talk…What Would It Say?
…And that’s the Beauty of the Open Mic

…is that a five or a four? And some losses

 

It is a historian’s dream to walk into an archive and look at primary source documentation that no one has touched in hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of years. Making that discovery, that connection that no one else has made before—brings a level of credibility that elevates.

But if that dream is based on a lie….would it be worth it?

I’m talking about, of course, the startling revelation a few days ago that a civil war historian brought a fountain pen into the National Archives, some thirteen years ago, and edited one of President Abraham Lincoln’s pardons. Just a small change…..after all, what does it matter if the pardon was signed in 1864 instead of 1865. Just one year from April 14, 1864 to April 14, 1865—and viola, in a blink of an eye that single pardon, becomes the final act of a presidency, for that night Abraham Lincoln made his way to Ford’s Theatre and the end of his life.

At all levels of education we talk often about the lure of plagiarism, of taking the easy way out—because the ends justify the means—but in the end you lost more than you’ve gained. Credibility. You may have gained it on an external level, but some part of you will always know that it wasn’t deserved. That discovery, that connection—that priceless document does not belong to you, because history is not something that the historian owns. We do not have the right to change what we see before us on a whim—since in the end that discovery, that connection is for more than just you.

As students we discuss the meaning of truth, and how sometimes truth in history can be as amorphous and intangible as a foggy night. That finding the truth and determining a historical fact are, for the historian, an aspiration. We can know that the bombing of Pearl Harbor happened on a particular day, but it won’t be possible to know what was going through the minds of those who died. Our fact, our truth, is only as good as the sources left behind.

So the question I have for our forger, our so-called historian, is—who do you think history serves?

All of this came to a head on a particularly difficult two days—one which, as I wrote most of this, included a loss of electricity thanks to the heavy snow coming down here in Northern VA.

For my M.A. in history I attended American University where I concentrated on a subfield called public history. One such professor was Robert Griffith—who as my department chair represented the epitome of what a historian is. In the university setting he was supportive and engaging to every student that came through his office. Between my first and second years of graduate school I found myself attending a three month internship in London at the British Museum. As part of that internship I got to work with the Lifelong Learning Program—the education division dedicated to adult learning. My project for the summer was to develop a way to exhibit the work of a group of older adults who had come to the museum, looked at objects, and developed a walking tour for visitors. This small, poster exhibition was going to be on display in the education center for all to see—but unfortunately well after I had returned to the states.

Between advisors, I went to Dr. Griffith and he immediately gave me information to facilitate a trip back to the UK to see the project come to its fruition. It was a small act of support, but that is what made being a student of Robert Griffith so great.

On Tuesday afternoon I learned that Dr. Griffith passed away. I, for one, will miss him.

I think his death was especially hard as it was preceded by knowledge of a fellow graduate student from AU—a friend on Facebook now, but someone who I had spent those long hours before, during, and after class with. I hadn’t kept in as much touch after graduation, but learning about his passing made me remember just how wonderful a person he was.

And then there is David Larsen, a vision in the field of interpretation–someone who I never had direct contact with, but who you heard about from time to time. I don’t think I would do a good job describing his contribution to the historical world and the field of public history—so I urge you to head over to the memorial page on Facebook to learn more.

I guess my point is that all three of these individuals left a mark on the world, with their family, fellow students, and profession. All three of them, in their lives, exemplify that the study of history is about more than just the act of discovery. We will miss them all.

 

Edit: Here is the memorial page for Dr. Griffith.

This Was Yours From The Beginning

Every so often the year starts with a bang, and last night sixty-two high school seniors rocked it.

For the last four years I have worked with an organization called the Posse Foundation, which works with universities across the country (and students in seven cities) to provide full tuition scholarships for the next generation of leaders. It started when one of Deborah Bial’s students told her that “I never would have dropped out of college if I had my posse with me,” and today the organization is founded on the “belief that a small, diverse group of talented students—a Posse—carefully selected and trained, can serve as a catalyst for increased individual and community development.” Many of you may have first heard about the organization last year when President Obama donated part of his Nobel Prize winnings to this worthy cause.

Last night was the 2011 Posse celebration ceremony for this years scholarship recipients. It is the moment when each Posse meets supporters from their future college/university (the DC schools are: Lafayette, Bucknell, Pepperdine, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Sewanee (University of the South), and Grinnell) and rousing cheers from other Posse’s currently at said universities. They are, after all, about to become a part of the family.

This year we not only heard about an amazing alumni Loubens Theork who graduated from Hamilton College and started a scholarship program for Haitian children (and he will be using 10k from this year’s Alumni Achievement Award towards this program), but we learned that every single one of the sixty-two students has already proven themselves to be leaders in their communities, schools and families. What is even more remarkable is that fifty percent of these students will now be the first in their families to attend college.

I know that is something that a lot of people throw around, but even from my seat in the back I could feel the pride in the room. As parents and grandparents called out in joy for their daughter, grandson, brother, sister these men and women represented, as Frank Sesno the Posse D.C. Advisory Board Chair stated, that something that had gone right.

My role in Posse is after the celebration, when Posse preps students for their entry into the collegiate environment. For four years I’ve worked as a writing coach and have found it fulfilling, exhilarating and have developed my own sense of pride for these students who continue to work hard even after they graduate.

This is what I find so inspiring about this organization. The relationship with the students does not stop with the money, but rather continues well beyond the four year college experience. A full support system. I always walk away from this ceremony wanting to be more and to do more.  One of the university liasons from Grinnell told these students that this honor “was yours from the beginning.”  And he was right, because that statement emphasizes that every accomplishment we have ever recieved is a consequence of our families and our own decisions along the way. We make it happen.

One final thought. The motto of Lafayette College comes from the words of the 19th year old Marquis de Lafayette who left France to fight for the colonial revolutionaries. When asked why he chose to fight he answered“Cur Non”, or “Why Not?”. So this year, anytime you are faced with a challenge, or anytime I am faced with a choice I’m going to remember these sixty-two students and ask–Why Not and try to make a difference.

Congratulations Posse Class of 2011!

Another Day, Another Year

What’s an end-of-the year blog without an end-of-the-year list? I’ve tried to fill 2010 with a lot of history—from great trips with my family to intelligent conversations with colleagues in San Francisco, Austin and Portland. At every step I’ve learned a little bit more about life, and a little bit more about myself. Below is a list of my top 3’s for the year. Some, like my music picks, are not necessarily from songs released in this year—but since they were new to me, I’m going to count them anyway. Others on the list you might recognize from other posts on this site.

Top 3 Books
Faithful Place by Tana French
French’s third book in the Dublin murder squad series is gritty and gripping, raw and emotional all at the same time. (Like how I used those adjectives without telling you anything?) Anyway if you like great mysteries that are well written check out this book. While reading In the Woods and The Likeness might be helpful it isn’t 100% necessary.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
History. Science. All with a very clear consequence for every individual in the United States and abroad. And all due to one woman whose life changed forever with her death.

Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens
Like I said some of these picks that are new to me—but after watching the BBC/PBS adaptation I had to read the real thing. Dickens, while always providing a dearth of genius does an amazing job showing the shifts between the rich and the poor—and the circumlocution office is just icing on the cake. Not to mention the vivid detail and characters in all walks of life.

Top 3 History Fun
I wrote a lot about these three experiences on this blog. I learned much about the western immigrant experience in San Francisco, saw how you can tell the story of times past through the remains of ordinary people, and catch a unique vision of America (one that is cleaned, up and brightly colored). For that I choose Angel Island, Written in the Bone, and Telling Stories: Norman Rockwell from the Collections of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg.

Top 3 Music Picks
Rodrigo y Gabriella: Awesome strains of drifting guitar, rich in melodic sounds and rhythmic beats.

O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: This song was featured in the latest Harry Potter movie, but once I downloaded it I found it entirely engrossing in texture as his voice mixed with the chorales.

Wicked Soundtrack: I am a sucker for musicals and while I did love my purchases this year of the latest Green Day CD I found this to be the album that I am in love with the most. Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel’s voices are remarkable and for a show with such a fantastic message you can’t go wrong with a song about fighting gravity.

Top 3 Television Picks
Fringe: How can you go wrong with parallel worlds and creepy X-files like cases. What really brings in this show, however is the phenomenal acting this season by Joshua Jackson, Anna Torv and John Noble. I know many are all about the awesomeness of cable, but sometimes its shows like this that can tell a story within network constraints that I love.

Masterpiece Theatre (Little Dorrit, Wallander, Sherlock): All three of these mini-series were at the highest caliber of storytelling. Little Dorrit, as I mentioned above, is one of the classics; Wallander had gripping mysteries with an awesome soundtrack (and Kenneth Branagh blew it out of the park); and Sherlock which looked at the classic stories with a modern day slant.

Lost Season 6 Finale: I know this was a controversial ending for those who once loved the show, but even now months after the finale I can say I loved the ending for the series. I’ll admit that there were times this last season that it was clunky and could have had a tighter narrative, but it ended just as I would have wanted it to. Most of what I said right after the episode aired still holds here.

Top 3 Movies
My top three movies for the year are all fairly popular ones. The first part of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was amazing. While the book is still superior, there were elements of the film that had me emotionally involved, not to mention mesmerized (the scene where we are told the story of the Three Brothers). In the same vein Inception proves that you don’t need 3D to tell a story, and to be an excellent entertaining film. The fight in the hotel hallway is probably one of my favorite parts. Lastly, what can we say about Toy Story 3 that others haven’t already said. Any animated movie that can have you at the edge of your seats and cheering has my vote.

Now while this is a top 3 list, I do have to also give props to my favorite Hindi film of the year—3 Idiots which was compelling, and funny at the same time (though some of the songs could have been more memorable), and Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon in Invictus were excellent.

And the rest….

I’ve also had the chance to see some pretty great theatre. As a season ticket holder for the Shakepeare Theatre I was blown away by The Liar and more recently Candide. I also saw Wicked in early January and as I mentioned with the soundtrack the actual musical was beyond words.

Which brings me to 2011. What are my resolutions for the coming year? Well I hope to work on my two National Novel Writing Month projects—cleaning them up, tightening characters which will in turn help with my overall attempts at fiction writing. I also would really like to try my hand at learning Hindi, a language that I’ve never quite grasped, despite hearing it at home for most of my life. I am also looking forward to working on an exciting archive project not to mention my New Year’s Resolutions for preservation. I’ve also realized that this blog is now over a year old—so happy birthday blog!

Add to the list! Tell me what your best ofs for 2010 are, or what your new years resolutions are.

Farewell Twenty-Ten
I guess I knew you when
And while this year was not great
I’d like to think, not the worst to date
But 2011, here we come
Looking for brighter skies, and then some
With something for the spirit too
After all, I’ve got all of you

Happy New Year!!

Telling the Whole Story

I am a sucker for a good book, especially stories that are steeped in their own…history. There is one part of me that lives firmly ensconced in reality where I constantly think about our own past and its public component, but then there’s this other half that becomes engrossed at made-up worlds and marvels at how writers are able to create complete visions filled with music, art, and culture all through the written word. And when that vision integrates a mythology with heroes and morals like our Greek/Roman/Etruscan/Hindu myths it is all the more fantastic.

When those books end up on the big screen, I find myself thinking about how the director’s imagination measures up (of course, no movie is ever quite as satisfying as a book for me). That being said when the first part of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out I was floored.

I’m not the most critical movie watcher.  Generally, I’ll always try to find a reason to justify sitting in the theater for 2.5 hours (Though Avatar, the 3D is the only thing that saved you.) Anyway…when I saw Harry Potter 7 (Part 1) a few weeks ago I realized that the strength in the narrative came from J.K. Rowling’s ability to create a wholly believable world. When reading the books the reader is bombarded with the tools of the historical trade to tell the story–and each step hearkens back to something that had been prophesied not only when Harry Potter was a young boy, but even further back through the veil of mythology.

What are some of the key primary sources we use in writing about the past? Objects, written sources, art, music.  Material culture includes things like jewelery, funerary objects, items from everyday life that ultimately create meaning for an individual, a community and a nation. In terms of the written word we look to the text in the form of diaries, newspapers, and books for contextual clues.

So in order to understand the wizarding world of Harry Potter we are pulling from the stories told in the last six books, but Rowling also pulled together tools of historiography to tell her story.

In terms of material culture we have the standard trappings of the witch or wizard, but more specifically there are the Horcruxes–magical objects that hold individual pieces of Voldemort’s soul, objects that hold an overarching meaning for him due to their connection with his own mangled past with Hogwarts.  Then we have pieces from Harry’s own past–a golden snitch which holds his key to survival, the diary of Tom Riddle, and the three Deathly Hallows.

Of course this final chapter of the Harry Potter saga is not bereft of textual sources.  Dumbledore’s last will and testament plays a role in setting the three on their journey, not to mention the actual gift to Hermione–The Tales of the Beedle the Bard which adds yet another rich layer to the world. Then we have the book written by Rita Skeeter, which uses (albeit doctored) oral history from Bathilda Bagshot to put together Dumbledore’s past connections to Grindlewald a history that is also told by Elphias Doge. Competing sources of the past, both with kernels of information that are hidden by the other individuals bias. To some extent the last Harry Potter book finds Harry, Ron and Hermione playing the historian and try to suss out the means to destroy Voldemort in the end.

I think one of the additional strengths of the story, and why it resonates with some many, is how it emphasizes the importance of place and that subsequent connection to a community, family, and a people. I know that the sadness I felt (both in the book and the film version) of going back to Godric’s Hollow is directly related to knowing the ‘historical’  moment that happened there. I loved how in the book at the home of Harry’s birth there is a monument to the sacrifice–and how those pilgrims have written of their connection to the events that occurred there.  This isn’t all that different to the writings at Abby Road near the Beatles studio, or the guest books at any major historical site around the world. Good fiction, often makes connections to reality. (As an aside, I also love how cemetery markers provided Hermione with a clue re: the Hallows. As a primary source, gravestones can tell you a lot about the people who lived there).

As I mentioned, part of the reason my blogging has been slow the last few months is because of my participation  in National Novel Writing Month.  I tried to integrate some of my favorite things about history (material culture, landscape analysis, and mythology) with a kernel of a story.  While I’m not sure about how successful I ended up being (while I hit 50k words, the book isn’t done) I did gain a new appreciation for J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Jordan, George R.R. Martin, Orson Scott Card, and of course J.K. Rowling. I definitely recognized that history isn’t just about revealing fragments of the past, but about trying to engage with and embrace the whole story–in the fictional and non-fictional realm.

~~~

On a side note, here is my work blog post from PreservationNation.org. If you didn’t know already the Historic American Landscape Survey turned ten this year. I also took a trip to Baltimore to learn more about preservation efforts by Baltimore Heritage, Inc.

Seeing What’s Real

There is a counter at the bottom of this page that I hope will explain my month long absence from the blog.  I’m participating in the 2010 National Novel Writing Month–which pretty much requires that I write 50,000 words in 30 days. We’re reaching the last week, and I’m about 6100 words behind so this weekend requires me to put on my game face and write as fast and as much as I can.

If you want to check out some my other writing this month I did post twice on the PreservationNation.org blog.

The second blog post is about my recent trip to the National Archives to view the original copy of the Emancipation Proclamation, which was on display for four days following the opening of the second part of an exhibition entitled Discovering the Civil War. In “The Power of the Document” I wanted to describe how seeing the physical object was just as important as reading the text:

So why is seeing the original document so important to me? Its history is well known, including its role in the larger narrative of the United States beyond the Civil War era. Many have undertaken analysis on Abraham Lincoln’s reasoning and timing in presenting the proclamation, and we can see the text written out after a quick Google search. We know that on January 1, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed that all slaves within rebelling states would be “thenceforward, and forever free.”

It makes it real. In a modern world where much of the conversation lives in the virtual realm, the tactile, the physical existence of an object in space strengthens its meaning and connection to the actual events that you read and learn about in history courses around the world. The value of seeing Abraham Lincoln’s signature—teeny and cramped–and reading the words scrawled across sheets of paper gives history texture and life.

For this post I wanted to talk about historical reality and the present. I’ll admit, part of this was due to the recent publication of President George W. Bush’s memoir, and how much of the discussion about the events during and around his eight years in office have, within two years, turned into a trip down nostalgia lane. What I mean is talking about events from two yeas ago as part of a very distant, closed past, without (and admittedly I only watched fragments of two interviews) discussing the future. What I’m asking does not have anything to do with politics, or choosing a side, though I will admit that I am moderate who leans to the left.  What I want to know is the following: at what point do we, as Americans, look at recent events and instead of acknowledging these events as part of a still moving present, put it in the bucket of history–it happened, case closed, book shut.

As a historians, we know that of course, naturally, nothing lives in a vacuum. Everything has consequences–sometimes consequences that cannot be seen until a longer period of time has passed (or as Marc Bloch, and the other historians from his school of thought believed, after the longue duree [long term]). However, we also recognize the role of the individual in shaping those events and realities.

When we made the field trip down to see the Emancipation Proclamation these questions popped up again–that the power of the document was partially in knowing its effect beyond Abraham Lincoln’s initial issuance. That despite what it said, its proclamation had far more, long reaching consequences–some of which reverberated into the twentieth century and the civil rights movement.

So, in seeing what’s real–we are only able to interpret, at any given moment, a fragment of the bigger picture, a picture that is always changing and growing.  But like those before us, we have the opportunity, and the responsibility to look at that fragment from a unique position in time, and place.  Right here, right now, today–but with the forethought that recognizes that those interpretations will shift and change as we shift and change.

Landscape & “Look at what you see, and then see beyond that”

So I’m actually writing this blog from the middle of the social media session (have you been following us on #presconf this week?) but I’ll save that conversation for the wrap up post on Sunday/Monday.

Yesterday was the day for “Next American Landscape” and we started again with a large general session to frame out the day. Panelists included John Bullard (Mayor of New Bedford former Mayor of New Bedford and director of  Sea Education Association) who has a different view on the role of preservation and environmentalism (especially in the case of Cape Wind), Preservation magazine editor James Schwartz and Director of our Southern Field Office Rob Nieweg. Bullard asked two questions: What’s going on here & What are we going to do about it?

The Cape Wind issue is large, complex and hard to explain in brief—so I ‘ll just send you here for more information but Bullard’s essential point is this: with the parts per million of carbon emissions higher then it has ever been, we cannot afford to not put up renewable energy resources as quickly as possible, because if we do not, everything else won’t matter. We can fight for old buildings and historic sites, but what good will that do us if we’re all suffering the effects of global warming.

He also says that while everyone was focusing on the visible intrusion of the windmills, they are ignoring the other terrible things going on in Nantucket (heavy boat traffic, sewage dumping etc.)

In the same vein Nieweg talked about the fight against high powered transmission lines through the Journey through Hallowed Ground. Some of which rely on coal plants and become “industrial intrusions on the landscape”

Both of them are asking us to think about the relationship between power, the landscape, and the preservation of our historic past. At one point Niewig asked “Do we want to sacrifice landscape for cheap power?”

These are the tough questions right? On the Next American City day a lot of the conversation was about finding balance, and looking at ways to bring sustainable design into adaptive re-use buildings, here we are talking about the same thing—but from the opposite angle, where environmentalism clashes with the tenants of historic preservation (saving viewsheds and shaped land).

It was a thought provoking session that once again stayed on my mind throughout the rest of the day—and what I found through my three sessions (Nominating Large Cultural Landscapes to the National Register, Land Conversation and Ranching, and a fantastic session on culinary agritourism in Washington State) is the need to ask those tough questions and find creative solutions because dealing with landscapes is a lot harder than dealing with a physical structure.

In the first session of the morning (the breakout on Nominating Large Cultural Landscapes) we saw that very complexity in identifying and discerning the different pieces of a a historic landscape (structures, layers of history, changes to the land). Unlike a building or a neighborhood with finite boundaries, a landscape has no start or no end, and often has multiple owners (some public, others private). The second session gave two case studies in Colorado. At one point one of the panelists mentioned that the driving force to doing the ranching survey projects was the fact that developmental threat (I think the Army was going to use the land for exercises) stated that the space was perfect because “there was nothing there.”

My third session, was about the world of agritourism. I first learned about the role of food in telling stories about a place and the past during my undergrad at William & Mary—and it is also the idea that pulled me down the rabbit whole hole into looking at history and culture writ large. That is telling the story of a space through music, film, art and food. So this session looked at the land and the landscape of farming and turned it into a central part of Washington State Tourism.

So how does this link to the general session this morning? I think that it has to do with looking at the big picture taking a deep breath, and trying to figure out a new way of doing business. In Thursday’s general session they talked about changing the rules—and for the real world maybe that’s what is on the horizon.

~~~

Later on yesterday night I attended the National Preservation Awards at gorgeous Paramount Theatre. You can see the winners on www.preservationnation.org but the videos are the real star and will be rolled out on the web in the next few weeks. From Main Street Iowa, a school in Las Vegas, and the 2010 Crowninshield winner Tony Goldman it was a night of pride. I think some of you will be interested in seeing all the work he has done in Philadelphia, New York and Miami. During his acceptance speech he said his one advice for preservation is to take a look at what you see before you, and then to look beyond that to a broader, complete vision.  Words to live by.

Check out pictures here.

We’re packing up now, and I’ll be on my way to DC in a few hours. In the wrap up post next week I’ll talk about the last session I attended, the Forum Lunch and put a few final thoughts down for closure.

Forces of Nature, Misconceptions and Changing the Rules

I think it might be best to start discussing Thursday at the National Preservation Conference by talking about the “Next American City” general session. During this presentation we heard from Kennedy Smith (of CLUE group, and an expert in community revitalization and main street development) and Charles Buki whose foci includes neighborhood revitalization.

For those of you who read my blog and aren’t plugged into the preservation movement are probably asking what this has to do with preservation and history. Think about it as a means of preserving where we live, and stopping neighborhoods and cities from becoming in-distinctive, and a one-size fit all look. It is a part of preserving Americana in a different way.

The two panelists posed three questions:

  1. What are the major forces driving development?
  2. If we could rewrite the rules what rules would you rewrite
  3. If you could change one misconception about Historic Preservation what would it be.

While Kennedy looked at the continued need to save each community’s distinctive character (she had a great presentation that included images along roadways in 5 different American communities, that all looked the same, cluttered with McDonalds, gas stations, Pizza Huts etc. Her point: you cannot tell where you are just by looking at the street). Buki came from the perspective that “he is not a preservationist” (though many in the room, including me disagreed, but we’ll get to that later). His main assertion was an encouragement of diversity in development and the recognition that sometimes we revitalize/rehabilitate/re-develop and end up creating neighborhoods and places where the old inhabitants no longer feel welcome.

He says for any neighborhood development one should ask the following question: What is the extant to which the project you are working on will be useful to your customers when they are at 60% of their income. Considering the economic recession it isn’t a question to be taken lightly.

So let’s talk about identity, since I found, through my following three sessions, that preservationists are looking—not necessarily to re-define our mission and our goals—but to let the outside world know that we are more than a steward of historic sites.

I think my favorite conversation about asserting our identity more loudly and proudly was in the panel on “Solar Panels, Wind Turbines, and More: Is Preservation Ready.” Val Talmage, from Preserve Rhode Island put up two lists of adjectives. The left side included words like entrepreneurial, visionary, inventive, flexible; while the other list included adjectives like rigid, inflexible, obstructionist. Val asked the audience: “What list do you think we ourselves as being, and what list do you think others perceive us as.”  Then she asked what list represents the public perception of environmentalists or those supporting green building. The answers are fairly obvious.

It came up again in the Habitat for Humanity session, albeit in a different way. Instead of outwardly talking about changing how we act this session showed how we as preservationists can pro-actively work with new partners and show that we are not what everyone expects us to be. Make sure to check out the amazing case studies that show how Habitat for Humanity is working with preservation organizations on new ideas that stray away from their typical model.

The first session of the morning was a breakout directly related to the general session entitled “Everyone Wants to Live Within Walking Distance: What Does this Mean for Preservation?” The panelists included rockstars like David Dixon, Mary Means, and Roberta Gratz and looked at the principles of Jane Jacobs. Gratz at one point posited the following quote of Jacobs:

“You cannot build the ovens and expect the loaves to jump in.”

Development equals the ovens, and Preservation includes the Loaves. You can construct the building, but without a preservation ethic you cannot build, or bake a community. That is we have a responsibility to put the loaves (er preservation) into the developmental process instead of just expecting them to think of us. We have to stop sitting on the sidelines and yelling stop and start taking initiative. Again, in another session (the one on Solar energy), Val Talmage said that what she would love to see is preservationists aggressively going after a plan to cut the carbon footprint of America’s heritage and then going after projects to build a bank of case studies and best practices. So then we have something to point to and say—look, yes we can.

Before I go one more word on identity. I think it is interesting that we as preservationists are trying to tell those in the conservation, environmental, and green movement that we are one of them. It is a conversation that I heard in the halls of the National Council on Public History conference earlier that year—that preservationists are public historians, but that a lot of preservationists don’t identify as public historians. (Though I did appreciate that as preservation moves a little bit further away from the preserving “history” in the purest sense, that in the Solar Panels session we got a great quick history of energy development in America). Buki asked if it was possible for us to “be in two places at one time.” I think we can—we all do wear many hats, and we have to stop waiting to be asked to the table and jump in.

Click here to check out my pictures from last night (including a few from the Candlelight House Tour. Make sure to look at the image below which is from the Max Bickler House. Apparently the architect chronicled his life in pencil on the underpart of the stairs. Here is the notation from the surrender of Japan in 1945.

Etching from the stairway beneath the Max Bickler House

Up Next: Next American Landscape Day! National Preservation Awards! Mad about Mod Party!

“Even if You Do Everything Right….Without Time It Won’t Ring True”

….and we have lift off. Yesterday was the first day of the National Preservation Conference here in Austin, Texas. Last minute preparations, the dispatching of the first round of field sessions were just lead ins to the big event in the evening. The Opening Plenary.

There were many expected to speak—the Mayor of Austin, former first lady Laura W. Bush (who is the honorary co-chair of the conference) and, of course, Stephanie Meeks the new president of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

The City from the Long Center

Since I was conference staff I missed the first twenty minutes of the convening (which meant I missed the Mayor’s welcome, the musical interlude, and the voting in of new Trustees). However I was lucky enough to hear the band play in rehearsal—and it is something quite special Check them out on the video here.

Laura Bush spoke eloquently about growing up in Texas, and how important courthouses in the state are to daily community life. She made the case for preservation while also providing those in attendance with one Texan’s perspective.

Then came Stephanie Meeks—who did a great job introducing herself to the NTHP community with personal stories, hints at her experiences before and since coming on board, and issued a challenge for the next 5 years leading up to the 2016 anniversary of the National Historic Preservation Act. She asked that we look for ways to make preservation more accessible, visible, and fully funded. The challenge was in a word, ambitious—but with ideas that I think, with a lot of work, might be feasible. One of my favorite parts of the speech was when she introduced a group of middle schoolers who had won a commendation from a national design competition for the school of the future—their design was the only one not asking for new construction, instead they worked on a rehab for their historic school building in Tucson, Arizona.

Now for the main event: Paul Goldberger. I have to say that I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. I know he’s a pretty big name in the preservation community but my knowledge of his ideas and work was largely limited to what I read up on him in preparation for the conference. His talk had three main parts—the first to talk about Austin as the ideal place to have the conversation about the Next American City and Next American Landscape. He emphasized that the work we do is essential and that preservationists need to be the obvious choice i.e. that the other side has to make the argument to destroy and rebuild instead of us always having to make the argument of how historic landscapes and streetscapes provide more value to a community than anything else.

He also spent some time forcing us to think about the phrase: “In a city, time becomes visible”. He described how even if an area is built up to be walkable, sustainable, and beautiful—it rings false if not “covered in the patina of time”. That without the shared history, or experiences it feels false and disconcerting.

Austin in Reflection

Goldberger then talked about public space and the idea of how the Next American city is creating a new public realm in spaces like the High Line in New York City or Millenium Park in Chicago. That these are places where the Next American City and the Next American Landscape are meeting. If we take care of the cities, we are also preserving landscape through the prevention of sprawl etc.

In the end though, the most profound message Goldberger gave us that preservationists need to be honest. We approach preservation as a method of making our lives better right here right now, and that those who believe historic preservation is an excuse to ignore “progress” or the “present” don’t know what preservation is.

Tonight or tomorrow I”ll fill you in on “Next American City” day. Also you can follow me on Twitter at PC_PresNation. Check out pictures here. If you want to watch the opening plenary you can here.

ATX Revealed

Mustangs

The last time I came to Austin it was a whirlwind—a quick cab ride to the city with an hour for the state capitol (majestic dome etched in color, open, expansive), and forty minutes for the Lyndon Johnson library (exterior—an image in white, interior thoughtful, humorous, inspiring). Both sites I would recommend to anyone coming to this city.

In short—the Texas state capitol is easily summed up in one word. Awesome. The architecture is phenomenal, and it apparently is one of the few capitol buildings that stands taller than the National Capitol in Washington, DC. Nearby on the campus of the University of Texas, Austin is the LBJ Library—a building that includes an animatronic LBJ cracking his trademark jokes, while one floor beneath is a testament to his work on civil rights in this country. This library, if anything, emphasizes just how complex one man could be—and how he has the power to effect so much.

This trip has been a bit leisurely in that I still have plenty of time to see the city, and instead spent time setting up for the swarms of preservationists descending on this city. I have, however, eaten well

  1. Moonshine Grill (Apparently the Trout is fantastic, I loved my chicken Almondine).
  2. Polvos—a Mexican food place in the South Congress area. Chicken Enchilada with Mole, be still my heart.

Sixth street feels a little bit like Nashville’s main drag—music piping out of every building (though I heard it is the place to hang out for the students of UT). And the bat’s are only a few blocks away.

The Driskill Hotel

I also stopped by the Driskill Hotel (a member of the National Trust’s Historic Hotels Program). The building as a whole is pretty cool, but I loved the wood paneling on the ceiling, the mustangs and the glass domes on the interior. I also think it is pretty cool that it is the site of LBJ and Lady Bird Johnson’s first date and, like many old hotels, might be haunted.

More to come: Tonight is the opening plenary and reception so I’ll be tweeting up a storm—and will report back if I can by early tomorrow. In case you haven’t heard yet you can also watch the opening plenary live. It will be streaming on the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s webpage (www.preservationnation.org).

More pictures from the conference will be uploaded here (and on the NPC Flickr page soon). Want to be a virtual attendee? Check out the Virtual Attendee page here.