Every Social Media Manager a Historian: Reflections on Interpreting History Through NPS Social Media

My latest essay for the Journal of the Civil War Era‘s blog, “Muster,” is now live. I wrote about my experiences running the Facebook and Twitter accounts for Reconstruction Era National Monument in Beaufort, South Carolina, from April 2017 to April 2018. I discuss a few strategies I learned for crafting effective social media posts during that time and the importance of historical sites making a dedicated effort to interpret the past on social media.

Being the social media manager for REER was a high honor and something I take great pride in as a public historian. The chance to participate in the formative stages of a new National Park Service unit’s overall development is rare; that REER is the first NPS unit to make Reconstruction a central interpreting focus of the site is all the more significant. So it was pretty exciting when I got a call from folks in the NPS Southeast Region seeing if I’d be interested in helping to promote the site online. The reason I got that call, I should add, is because of my social media presence on Twitter and my writings on this blog. Someone noticed my historical scholarship and my passion for Reconstruction, and that in turn opened this door for me.

I can’t stress enough to readers how time-consuming it can be to create a good social media post. In addition to having a strong knowledge of a given historical topic, one must work to write and re-write drafts of their posts so that they are clear, concise, and interesting. They also need to find compelling images and make sure those images are copyright-free. For REER I had to come up with an idea, conduct research, write a draft, have that draft reviewed by historians at the NPS Southeast Region, make any necessary changes, and then schedule the post for publication on Facebook and Twitter.

I was in a unique situation with REER because I am based in St. Louis and have never been to South Carolina before. I have a good general knowledge of the Reconstruction era but needed to read up on South Carolina’s particular circumstances during that period (Thomas Holt, Willie Lee Rose, Richard Zuczek, Stephen Wise, and Lawrence S. Rowland helped me a lot). Since the site is currently closed to the public, there were few events going on and I wasn’t part of the daily, on-the-ground experiences at the site. I therefore focused largely on historical content–both nationally and relative to Beaufort–and the historiography of Reconstruction studies. As I mention in the essay, REER had more than 1,100 Facebook followers and 700 Twitter followers by the time I finished. Not bad! It was sometimes challenging to find enough time to consistently update and keep an eye of REER’s social media accounts, but overall I’m proud of the work I did and I hope I can keep helping the site in some capacity moving forward.

Cheers

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How Historians and Musicians Receive Similar Training in College

Yours Truly Performing at Off Broadway in St. Louis. Photo Credit: Rick Miller Photography

Over the years numerous friends and family, knowing that I studied history in college and now work as a public historian for a living, have come to me with a range of questions about people and events from the past. I think more often than not I have failed to give them a satisfactory answer to their questions. That’s because in most cases they’ve asked questions about time periods in which I have only a basic and limited understanding. As fascinating as I find the Roman Empire, the Medieval Era, the Great Depression and the New Deal, and other periods in history, I just don’t have the specialized knowledge to give an accurate, informative answer in most cases. And yet oftentimes these questions are prefaced with a comment like, “you’re a historian, so you should be able to help me…”

The reality is that most professional historians specialize in a particular time period, and that time period can be quite small in scope depending on the individual historian’s interests. I think non-historians sometimes assume that the primary goal of studying history is the accumulation of facts. As historian David McKenzie pointed out on Twitter, historical knowledge for many is “simply cramming facts into one’s head to be spit out at a moment’s notice.” While learning facts and establishing historical accuracy are certainly important facets of any history degree program, there are many other elements of good historical practice. This includes (but is not limited to) the ability to search for and interpret the larger context surrounding a particular event, the need to understand change over time, the importance of crafting solid research questions, the talent to be a good reader, writer, and speaker, and the training needed to become well-versed in both primary and secondary source material of a particular, specialized historical era.

When I struggle to answer my friends’ and family’s questions, I point out that historians are in some ways similar to musicians. My area of expertise is nineteenth century U.S. history–particularly the Civil War Era–and that is my “musical instrument,” so to speak. You wouldn’t say “oh, you’re a musician! Go over and play that guitar” without first asking that musician what instrument they play and if they could play guitar. And just because a musician can play guitar doesn’t mean they can play tuba or do a freestyle rap on the spot. The situation is similar with historians. I can talk about the Battle of Shiloh or the Civil Rights Act of 1866, but I’d have a more difficult time giving a detailed answer about, say, the Battle of D-Day or the Civil Rights Act of 1964. As much as I’d love to give detailed answers and remarkable facts about every event in human history, the limits of human intelligence require a more specific and concentrated focus.

Music education students in college are required to learn how to play a string instrument, a brass/woodwind instrument, and sing in a choir regardless of their prior expertise. They also learn music theory and develop an ability to read sheet music whether it’s in treble clef or bass clef (or alto clef!). As future teachers of band, orchestra, and choir in a k-12 setting, this training prepares them to help students learn how to play an instrument, read sheet music, and perform together in an organized creation of musical sound. History students at the undergrad level receive a similar curriculum in that they take courses in U.S., European, and World history during their training. They receive a broad instruction that enables them to educate younger students about a wide swath of human history. But like the musician with a specific instrument that they specialize in and perform with in concerts, the historian finds a time period to specialize in and contribute to through public talks, the creation of scholarship, and, in my case as a public historian, by interpreting history to a wide range of publics.

Cheers

 

Upcoming Presentation on U.S. Grant at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum

…Happening this Thursday! When I visited the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum as a high schooler just a few months after its grand opening in 2005, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that I’d ever give a presentation there someday. If you’re in the area, come on out for what will hopefully be an interesting and informative talk about Ulysses S. Grant’s life and how Americans have remembered him since his death in 1885. We’ll be on the library side of the Presidential Library and Museum.

Cheers

NCPH 2018: Where Do We Go From Here?

Last week I attended the 2018 Annual Meeting of the National Council on Public History in Las Vegas. It was my fifth straight NCPH conference and my first time in Las Vegas, which in itself was quite a treat as I took some time to take in the city’s sights and sounds. As a pretty active member of NCPH I ended up spending lots of time during the conference in committee meetings and planning for my own presentation in session 36, “Rewiring Old Power Lines: The Challenge of Entrenched Narratives.” I did have the chance, however, to attend a range of sessions during the conference. Overall I enjoyed my experience and left with a lot of satisfaction about my participation in NCPH. I do have questions and concerns moving forward, however. What follows are three thoughts about the conference and the state of public history:

What is the meaning of the term “Community”?: One of the strong points of attending NCPH conferences is that presenters are constantly exploring ways to bring the ideals and values of public history to new audiences. Every year there seems to be passionate discussion about three different questions:

1. How to rewrite narratives to incorporate the perspectives of previously marginalized historical actors in interpretive programs.

2. How to bring new audiences to public history sites, particularly young people and people of color.

3. How to establish a community-oriented culture of inclusion and equity at public history sites.

I believe these concerns are fundamental to the public history profession, and they’ll always play an important role in how the field defines itself. Effectively addressing these questions is a great challenge without clear answers. I confess, however, that this year I felt like some of the conversations I heard were akin to listening to a song on repeat. Sometimes I felt like asking, “okay, these concerns are valid, but I’ve heard these same thoughts for the past five years. What are we actually doing to push the field in a new direction?”

Part of the problem, I think, is that the term “community” is sometimes thrown around in an irresponsible way. Like the term “general public,” there really is no such thing as a “community.” There are only “communities,” and any discussion about “meeting the needs of the local community” really should be pluralized. Take, for example, my hometown of St. Louis. St. Louis County has 90 municipalities, all of which have their own histories and present-day needs. St. Louis city is a separate legal entity from the county and has its own neighborhoods and ethnic enclaves. Nearby Jefferson County and especially St. Charles County have experienced explosive suburban growth over the past twenty years. Several counties in Illinois also have a close association with St. Louis. All of these areas fall under the term “St. Louis Metro Area,” but as a public historian I can’t really talk about “meeting the needs of the St. Louis community.” The area is too big and the population is too unique to be described in historical terms as a single community. Ferguson, Chesterfield, and Affton are all in St. Louis County, for example, but have different histories and different needs. In reality there are some communities in St. Louis that are well served by their public history institutions and others that are not. So when we talk about meeting the needs of a local population, we need to start from the premise that there are many communities in a given locality we should be reaching out to and serving.

Concerns about Mid-Level Professionals: I think NCPH has done a wonderful job of making its annual meeting a welcoming place for graduate students and new professionals. Both groups benefit from a mentoring program, a special outing the first night of the conference, the Speed Networking session, and an environment that is friendly to new attendees. In general I think students and new professionals get a lot out of the NCPH Annual Meeting.

As I experience my own transition away from the term “new professional,” however, I’ve been thinking more and more about mid-level professionals and what the organization is doing to meet their needs. Those of us who have been in the field between four and ten years are most likely still in the field because we were fortunate to find jobs to support ourselves. But what happens when you’ve got your foot in the door with that entry-level position but can’t move up? I am greatly concerned about the number of mid-level professionals that I spoke with that are struggling to find career growth and new opportunities to put their skills to practice. For many, there is no career track to speak of. Throughout the conference I thought about a former cohort from graduate school who left the public history field to find a job in sales a couple weeks earlier. Another NCPH conference-goer who recently retired mentioned that his position isn’t being filled. I also admit to my own concerns about my future in public history.

What can NCPH do to help mid-level professionals find the career growth they seek? I’m not sure, but it’s my hope that the Professional Development Committee (of which I am co-chair) along with other NCPH committees can begin discussing strategies for the future. Additionally, while I could not attend working group 2, “Negotiating Power Lines: Economic Justice and the Ethics of Public History,” the tweets from that panel were fascinating and hint at some interesting ideas about promoting better pay for public historians.

Props to South African Public History: A significant highlight of the conference was having the chance to attend session 36, “South African Recovery from Cruel Pasts: Using Creative Arts to Visualize Alternatives.” Members of Rhodes University’s Isikhumbuzo Applied History Unit came all the way from South Africa to present at the conference, and it was a real treat. Historian Julia Wells and historians/performers Masixole Heshu and Phemelo Hellemann discussed the 1819 Battle of Grahamstown and efforts by the Applied History Unit to bring this history to life through creative arts, including poetry, storytelling, and pantsula dancing, a type of dancing invented in South Africa in the 1950s and 1960s. Dancers Azile Cibi and Likhaya Jack demonstrated pantsula dancing for all participants, and for the first time at a conference I ended dancing myself! They also demonstrated scenes from a play the Applied History Unit developed to portray the story of “Pete,” a native South African who was able to save his mother, a POW during the Battle of Grahamstown, and return her from bondage (true story). The session was extremely fascinating and a real treat to attend.

(Another thing I noticed about this session was that the presenters went into the crowd, introduced themselves, and thanked each audience member for attending their session. I was struck by the kindness of this small act and think presenters at future history conferences should embrace this practice).

All in all, NCPH 2018 was a great time and I look forward to next year’s meeting. For now, it’s back to the grid.

Cheers

Commemorating a “Loyal Slave” In Georgia

St. Simons Island, Georgia. Photo Credit: Wikipedia

Civic leaders in Glynn County, Georgia, are proposing a sculpture trail to commemorate that county’s history and promote tourism to the area. One of the sculptures being proposed highlights Neptune Small, an enslaved man on the Retreat Plantation. When the Civil War broke out Small’s enslaver, Henry King, brought Small with him to Confederate military lines. When King died on the battlefield, Small picked up King’s body and eventually brought it back home. The Sculptor, Kevin Pullen, explained that “What I tell people is it’s a love story. Because these two grew up together. They were love buds when they were little people. The whole slavery and Civil War piece was the backdrop for their lives. They lived on the same property, and they grew up in the same place.”

Historian James De Wolfe Perry pointed out that “As an enslaved person, [Small] had incentives other than loyalty or devotion” for returning King’s body. Kevin Levin of Civil War Memory added that “This is an interpretive weakness of the entire Lost Cause narrative that it makes little attempt to engage former slaves as to motivation and how they viewed their participation in the war.” He followed up with a blog post, commenting that “The basic outline of Pullen’s account accords with the available evidence, but to depict Small in his role as the loyal slave feeds into an insidious myth that has long been used to justify legal segregation, white supremacy, and the Lost Cause narrative of the war.”

I tend to agree with these sentiments. My initial response to this proposed sculpture is great discomfort. To me it seems to romanticize slavery and the master-slave relationship, which in Pullen’s telling of Small and King’s relationship is a “love story.” It also downplays the fact that the “loyal” Neptune Small and enslaved camp servants like him were not there voluntarily in service to the Confederate military, but due to impressment. In reality, we don’t know what Small’s motivations were for returning King’s body to Georgia. It is not a stretch to suggest, for example, that perhaps Small returned King to his old plantation in the hopes of gaining his freedom for this action. And as the article points out, the Kings did give Small an 8-acre tract of land for returning his enslaver’s body. The murky details of this story make me skeptical about the wisdom of commemorating it through a sculpture.

Cheers

Yes, I Am A Historian Who Cares About the Truth

A real photo of WWII soldiers raising an American Flag https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raising_the_Flag_on_Iwo_Jima#/media/File:WW2_Iwo_Jima_flag_raising.jpg

Phil Leigh, a Civil War author and blogger who I’ve never heard of or interacted with before, criticizes me in a recent blog post about the Confederate flag on his website. The issue begins with an essay by Andy Hall. Noticing that a popular photo-shopped image of a World War II Marine in the Pacific with a Confederate flag was going viral on social media, Hall did some quick research and clearly demonstrated that the photo was a fake. I re-blogged the essay here because I appreciated Hall’s detective work and efforts to correct misinformation on the internet. By sharing it on this blog, however, I seemed to have fallen into Leigh’s bad graces.

Leigh argues that both Hall and I ignore tangible evidence that some white southern soldiers flew the Confederate flag during WWII and that they flew it as a genuine expression of southern pride. He also points to a different post of his where he shares nine real images of WWII soldiers with Confederate flags.

Okay, great, but that wasn’t the point of Hall’s post or why I shared it here. Neither Hall nor I deny the existence of Confederate flags among WWII soldiers, and Hall did not write the post with the intention of providing an overview of the flag’s use during the war. The point of the post was to highlight a deliberate attempt to falsify history for the purpose of promoting a contemporary political position and a preferred version of history. The post also highlights how quickly misinformation spreads on social media. If you want to use images of WWII soliders flying Confederate flags, share the real pictures, plain and simple. Why distort the past to promote Confederate heritage today? It’s lazy and dishonest.

Leigh is not finished with me, however. In a detour of his critique of Hall, he also criticizes my recent essay for the Journal of the Civil War Era about Civil War gift shops and concludes that “[Sacco] sees no reason why items displaying the Confederate flag should be sold in Civil War museum gifts shops.” Again, that was not the point of the essay. My argument is that memory scholars and public historians need to undertake a more critical analysis of the items that are sold in these spaces. What do those items say about the ways people remember the Civil War? What are the values of a given historic site, and how do gift shop items reinforce or detract from those larger values and mission of a site? That is not the same as saying all Confederate flags must go, and I even concluded the essay by saying that a “one-size-fits-all solution” to the questions I raise does not exist. If Civil War gift shops want to continue selling Confederate merchandise, great. I think it is more than fair, however, to put that merchandise under a critical lens and push museums to think about gift shops as an extension of their mission. My point is not to engage in “political correctness” or an outright ban on selling Confederate flags, which Leigh and his commenters suggest.

On top of these critiques, Leigh feels the need to point out my employment status to his readers, although he does not do the same for Hall. One wonders why he feels the need to do that other than to suggest that my employer creates a bias that prevents me from practicing honest history, or that I have some sort of alternate motive for writing about history besides seeking truth and understanding. Perhaps there’s a different way to interpret Leigh’s mention of my employment status, but I do find the action very odd regardless.

Let’s get to the bottom of this strange discussion and put it to rest: altering historic photos for the purpose of promoting a contemporary political cause or a preferred version of history is wrong. Sharing these photos online is doubly wrong, and the image in question that Hall exposed as being photo-shopped has unfortunately gone viral. Hall was right to correct it, as he’s done with a lot of bad history over the years on his blog. Why does Leigh feel the need to criticize Hall instead of the people who create and share false history? Furthermore, it’s rather pretentious for someone who does not know me to title their post “Which Historian Cares About the Truth?” and then subtly suggest that I (and Andy Hall) don’t. You’ll have to forgive me if I find such an approach obnoxious and bothersome. It’s one thing to say “I disagree with your conclusions,” but another thing entirely to say that I don’t care about the truth.

I welcome comments of the former variety, but not of the latter. Mr. Leigh suggests readers view both of our essays and draw their own conclusions, and I encourage the same.

Cheers

Exit Through the Gift Shop: Historical Memory and Gift Shops at Civil War Historic Sites

Photo Credit: Nick Sacco

My latest essay for the Journal of the Civil War Era’s blog went live last week. I wrote about gift shops at Civil War historic sites and the urgent need for memory scholars to analyze the ways these spaces shape visitor experiences at historic sites. I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback so far and I hope the essay will lead to a more sustained and substantial dialogue on how gift shops can better serve the mission of a given public history site.

I have a lot of other exciting writing projects and upcoming presentations going on at the moment and I’ll let you know about those initiatives in a future post. For now, enjoy the above essay and let me know what you think in the comments section.

Cheers