As the world becomes increasingly faster in pace and larger in scale, new technological advances are being developed to keep track of the grand amount of records, supplies, and movements that make modern Western life possible. Perhaps one of the most promising—and equally threatening—is radio frequency identification (RFID), which utilizes the basic principles of reception and transmission of radio waves with every smaller microchips to easily identify and monitor large numbers of items in a short amount of time. Such technology has already been adopted by entities such as the U.S. Department of Defense and Wal-Mart to track their inventories, thereby ensuring that theft, misplacement, or loss of goods either does not take place or can be found quickly if such an occurrence does happen. The promise of this technology for archival professionals is that the inventorying and tracking of large amounts of archival materials, especially those in large archival collections for which item-level listing may be impossible. While there are a number of questions as to the beneficence for archives, RFID technology could be in the near future the way that many large and medium archives track their archival collections in storage.
RFID is defined as “a generic term for a set of technologies that use radio frequency (RF) to communicate data (a central component of which is an identity—specifically, a unique number)” (Resource #1). RFID systems consist of three main parts: an RFID tag, a reader, and the software for the system. An RFID tag is a small microchip with a radio antenna; these chips have a memory capacity to store identification data about the item with which the tag is partnered. Such tags are “read” by individuals through radio communication with a reader—a device having an antenna, transmitter, receiver, microprocessor, and memory storage capability that can make a contactless communication with the antenna of RFID tags (a PDA is an example of a reader). There can be portable readers such as PDAs (for manual checks) or stationary readers (which look like external harddrives) that are positioned throughout a room, emitting a continuous flow of information from the tags to a computer. The software allows the reader to process the information received and stored from the tags in a manner and framework which will be understandable to humans (Resource #2).
There are three varieties of RFID tags: active, passive, and semi-active. Active tags contain a silicone chip with a basic radio communication system present (an antenna and receiver), as well as an “on-board power source” (most often a battery) which keeps the tag “active” in order to continually transmit data to a reader. The read distance for active tags can be 100 feet or more, depending on the design of the tag. This type of tag is perhaps the least acceptable for use in archives due to the presence of a power source which—in contact with papers—could pose a potential danger to paper-based archival items. All tags whose data is programmed by a reader are said to have been “created” by the reader; additionally, when a created tag has had its data associated with a particular item, the tag is said to be “commissioned” (Resource #3).
Passive tags are so labeled because they do not have batteries; rather, they receive power through their antenna from the reader and do not send information unless a reader’s signal activates the tag. Because there are no moving parts within this tag, they are expected to have very long life spans and capable of resistant extreme conditions. Experiments have shown passive tags can resist corrosion from chemicals and can function well even at temperatures as high as 400°F. Due to their endurance and inertness to materials, passive tags would serve as the most appropriate for use in archives (though their read distance is much shorter than active tags—anywhere from less than an inch to 30 feet). Semi-active tags use an on-board power supply to function for specialized purposes, while they can only transmit data by activation through the power of a reader. These tags can be read from a maximum distance of 100 feet (Resource #4).
RFID tags—like CDs—can be either read-only, write-once (R) or re-writable (RW). Read-only tags can have their memory programmed by the manufacturer or by the user once with the data for the item to be associated with each tag. While that is true in theory, in practice read-only tags can actually be re-programmed or re-written several times. Read-write tags (RW) can be read-write or reprogrammed anywhere from 10,000 to 100,000 times (sometimes even more). These are the most expensive type of tag to make; they are also the least technologically secure, and as such are perhaps the least recommended for use in archives. In the future as the technology improves and production costs decrease, RW tags may become more of an option for archives (Resource #5).
RFID readers come in many variations, depending on the designer of the system and the uses for the system. Also known as “interrogators” (because they interrogate the information from the tags), readers are considered as the “central nervous system" of the RFID hardware (Resource #6). Readers operate within a “read zone,” the radius within which the radio transmitters of the tags can be picked up by a reader. The reader transmits AC power from its power source through the antenna to the tags, with the result being a transfer of data from the tags’ microprocessors. There are two types of readers based on their interface communication connections to a computer: 1) serial readers, which must be connected to computer’s serial port utilizing a cable; 2) network readers, which can communicate with a computer used both a cable and a wireless connection (network readers are almost identical to wireless network readers for standard network connections). Readers are further divided in to handheld and stationary readers. Stationary readers can be mounted on walls, doorways, or even moving objects (fork lifts, moving shelves, etc.) that are within the read zone; stationary readers are less expansive than portable readers typically, yet they need external antennas added. One version of a stationary reader is a RFID tag printer, which is capable of printing combination bar code/RFID tag labels. Portable readers, most commonly PDAs, contain internal antennas and can be passed over the items in a continuous motion—without line of sight to the tags. Portable readers can also exist in a similar form to those used in grocery stores to inventory stock. Portable readers’ effectiveness depends on their antenna signal strength, their battery life, and the size of memory (Resource #7).
Currently, RFID tags are used mainly for tracking and for inventorying. Tracking purposes include sub-dermal tagging (medical, child tracking, and animal tracking), security access cards, an anti-theft mechanism for merchandise in stores, marathons, airline baggage tags, and EZ-Pass and FasTrak road passes for cities like Chicago. Information about the item or person being tagged can be stored in the chip and retrieved through scanning. For inventorying, Wal-Mart, Target, and the U.S. Department of Defense are the first to use RFID tag inventories on a large scale. These organizations use RFID as a means of knowing where shipments are in-transit, rather than only knowing when they leave and arrive at their locations; thus, when inventories are being taken, they can include those items being shipped (Resource #8).
RFID systems have found their way actively into museums, and as a sideline into a number of libraries across America. An interactive science museum in San Francisco experimented with an RFID system labeled “eXspot” (due to the X-shaped readers positioned at exhibits) between 2002 and 2005. This museum used small cards or necklaces with embedded RFID tags which visitors could carry around and place on the stationary readers. The visitor’s RFID tag would relay pre-written exhibit information to a personal webpage for the visitor on the museum’s website; the purpose of the webpage is to provide the visitor with information on visited exhibits that they would enjoy exploring at will at home, with the ability to see photos of the exhibit items and show their family and friends. RFID is said to enhance the museum experience by allowing the individual to personalize their trip and learn what they want to learn, saving for later recall information and experiences that they would like to further investigate on their own. The Cleveland Museum of Art, one of the United States most prestigious art museums, will be using RFID technology in their exhibits in 2010 after a multi-year renovation project (Resource #9).
Libraries across the country have quickly become the most active users of RFID in the non-profit sector. California State University Library (Long Beach), UNLV Library, San Francisco Public Library, Berkeley (CA) Public Library, University of Connecticut libraries, New York Public Library, and North Canton (OH) Public Library are a few of the many libraries to be utilizing this new technology for inventorying shelved library books. Tags—replacing self-adhesive metal strips previously used in books—are placed in books checked out in pairs of 5-10 on radio frequency pads at the front desk. Inventories can be performed with portable readers shelf-by-shelf, saving time, money, and alerting librarians when books are out of place on a shelf. Robert Ferrari of California State University Library (Long Beach) states that “. . . ‘they had never performed an extensive inventory prior to having RFID. Now he inventories 5000 books per hour. The first time they did a partial inventory, Ferrari found 300 items they had recorded as lost or missing’” (Resource #10). UNLV Library estimated a savings of $40,000 for not having to replace about 500 materials previously believed to be lost.
RFID is now being discussed for use in archives, and has been implemented by records managers in various fields. The potential use for RFID in archives could be in placing passive RFID tags (the safest for use around archival materials) either on archival boxes or individual folders. This would enable archives to monitor through a reader the locations of various collections or folders from a collection within the storage area and reading room, as well as employee work area. The benefit would come in greatly reducing the chances of misplacing materials, misarranging collections, and ensuring that patrons and employees do not leave the archives with any collections or folders without permission. RFID readers can be set to alert someone when materials are being taken beyond a designated zone, or when certain rare or “high-level” materials are being used in locations where they should not be kept. Security, user records, and collection inventorying can all be improved with minimal intrusion to archival materials, especially since RFID does not require line-of-sight to read tags (useful for medium to large archives). As of yet, however, many archives—including the National Archives—are holding off utilizing RFID tags until the technology improves, security issues can be addressed successfully, and the cost-benefit of changing inventory systems can all be improved (Resource #11).
Records management benefits from RFID as “RIM professionals using RFID now have the ability to actually check files out—and back in—to users with no intermediation. They also can track and monitor files and records with extreme accuracy, not only within the room but throughout the entire facility” (Resource #12). A law firm dealing with patent law began an RFID system from Checkpoint Systems, Inc. in 1999 to manage its 12,000 files and growing, with the result of a great amount of time saved and legal research moving faster. Since records management deals with active materials, passive RFID tags would more immediately benefit RM rather than archives, at least until more archives-friendly adhesive labels and tags are developed. They would be especially beneficial for government record keepers, who are tasked with trying to keep track of lack numbers of records which are continually being utilized (Resource #13).
While RFID technology poses a huge benefit to archives, there are some serious difficulties to the implementation of the technology in archives. As with all new computer-based innovations, technological theft can be a potential hurdle as—theoretically—anyone with a reader and the right software can find where all the “rare” archival materials are located. Also in the realm of possibility is the ability of a person with a reader to re-program the RFID tags on archival boxes or folders. New protocols, algorithms, and codes are being instituted to protect this from happening, however the technology must catch up with the propensity for misuse of RFID before it can be feasible for archives to invest in it (Resource #14).
A second concern with RFID is the labels utilized for the tags: the adhesives of the tags could damage archival materials through off-gassing. Additionally, the labels’ adhesive could fail with time, or the labels could be pulled off of the archival boxes or folders accidentally. This concern could be solved by the implant of grain-sized RFID tags into acid-free folders and archival boxes, without the use of adhesive labels. Software upgrading can also be an issue, as many companies currently producing RFID tags have proprietary claims on them; several of these companies include 3M, Checkpoint Systems, Inc., and Virtua Library Services. Currently, standards devised by the International Organization for Standardization (ISO) to delineate communication between readers and tags have been implemented in order to form better interoperability with in-place computer platforms of organizations. Time and money to program the tags is another issue for archives and libraries that do not have the resources to begin and RFID system for their collections (Resource #15).
Some materials, such as metals and water, absorb or deflect radio waves (RF-absorbent or RF-opaque), giving incomplete or no readings for tagged files or boxes during the inventory or tracking of materials. This depends on the radio frequency of the tags. There are three types of radio frequency: low frequency (LF), high frequency (HF), and ultra high frequency (UHF). UHF gives the best transfer rate of data and largest read zone, while LF can transmit with better success. Older RFID tags could not be read well on items stacked two-to-three deep on shelves; while this issue has been solved greatly in recent years, there could still be the occasional non-read of tagged items that could be on archives’ shelves. RFID tags are thought to endure indefinitely (principally passive tags), yet there is no sure way of knowing how long these tags can last. Although RFID stands to be an excellent future option for use in archives, at present the technology is in its infancy (comparable to radio technology in the 1940s versus the 1990s). As technology rapidly advances, the reality is that by the mid 2010s, RFID could be in many large and medium-sized archives throughout the United States.
Resources
1) Radio Frequency Identification Technologies: A Workshop Summary. Computer Science and Telecommunications Board (Washington, D.C.: National Academies Press, 2004). Viewed on May 21, 2009, at http://books.nap.edu/openbook.php?record_id=11189&page=R1.
2) Sandip Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook (New York: IBM, 2006), 3-17; Radio Frequency; Roy Want, RFID Explained: A Primer on Radio Frequency Identification Technologies (Morgan & Claypool, 2006), 7-9.
3) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 3-17; Radio Frequency Identification Technologies.
4) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 3-17, 52-53; Radio Frequency Identification Technologies.
5) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 19-20, 50-51; Want, RFID Explained, 63-66.
6) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 22; Radio Frequency Identification Technologies.
7) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 22-29; Radio Frequency Identification Technologies.
8) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 63-88; Want, RFID Explained, 4, 29-40.
9) “Advantages of RFID in Museum Setting.” NJE Consulting. Viewed at http://www.nje.ca/RFID_ Museum.htm; Silvia Filippini-Fantoni and Jonathan P. Bowen, “Mobile Multimedia: Reflections from Ten Years of Practice,” Digital Technologies and the Museum Experience: Handheld Guides and Other Media, Loic Tallon and Kevin Walker, eds. (New York: AltaMira, 2008), 85-85, 135-139; Farhat Khan, “Museum Puts Tags on Stuffed Birds.” RFID Journal (Sept. 7, 2004).Viewed at http://www.rfidjournal.com/article/view/1110/1/; Wessel, Rhea. “RFID Helps Malaysian Museums Track Artifacts.” RFID Journal (June 22, 2007). Viewed at http://www.cbs.com.my/english/news/rfidjournal.pdf.
10) Laura Smart, “Making Sense of RFID,” Library Journal 129 (Fall 2004), 4-6. Viewed on EBSCO at http://search.ebscohost.com.; Diane Ward, “Radio Frequency Identification Systems for Libraries and Archives: An Introduction.” Library & Archival Security 18.2 (2003): 15-19. Viewed on EBSCO at http://search.ebscohost.com.
11) ACERA Meeting Minutes, 11/06/08,” Advisory Committee on the Electronic Records Archives (Meeting NO. 7). Viewed at http://www.archives.gov/era/pdf/acera7-minutes-110608-final.pdf; Paul Brachfeld (Office of Inspector General), “Audit Memorandum 06-07, Evaluation of Management Control Program for FY 2005,” National Archives and Records Administration (December 21, 2005). Viewed at http://www.archives.gov/oig/
pdf/audit-report-06-07.pdf.
12) Michael J. Faber, “RFID: The Next Tool for Managing Records?” Information Management Journal 36.6 (Nov./Dec. 2002), 62. Viewed at EBSCO at http://search.ebscohost.com.
13) Faber, “RFID,” 62.
14) Lahiri, RFID Sourcebook, 108-109.
15) Ward, “Radio Frequency,” 15-19.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Case Study—MPLP for Entry-Level Archivists: The Congressman David Hobson Papers
I am posting this draft article I had written last year about a hands-on approach to MPLP for grad students and entry-level archivists. I never published it, and the topic has been raised with me several times recently. I will note that I have not received permission from the institution under who's oversight and commission I was volunteering full-time at when I worked on this MPLP project. All views expressed within this post are mine and mine alone, and are not reflective of the processing approaches or theory of Wright State University Special Collections and Archives.
To step aside from QR codes for a time, I am offering this post on Greene-Meissner's "More Product, Less Process" approach to archival processing for young archivists.
Fresh-out-of-graduate-school archivists are full of optimism, fervor, and an abundance of knowledge from archivist conferences, literature, and internships. Though their levels of experience differ, they have all heard of the hip-cat lingo for the 21st-century archivist: EAD, digital preservation, Web 2.0, and email archiving. One such term that has spread a wildfire of debate throughout the archival community is the recommendation by Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner—that archivists let go of their anal-retentive, perfectionist tendencies in order to provide the public with access to records by a more streamlined, realistic approach to processing backlogged archival collections. Labeled “More Product, Less Process” (or MPLP for short), the debate over this processing strategy centers not on its usefulness as a technique—what self-respecting archivist would not love to process a great number of collections in a shorter period of time!—but on its ability to capture or control the descriptive elements of a set of archival records within the confines of the professional responsibilities of an archivist. (Reference #1)
Understandably, traditionally-trained archivists cringe at the notion of not arranging or giving their utmost attention to every individual item in a collection. We who have undergone such training feel that to do less than our best with each piece of paper or photograph could leave some tidbit of historical information un-announced to researchers who could be desperately seeking such material for a project or paper. Yet, MPLP is not about neglecting descriptive elements or mere exhibition of an increased performance by the archives to its institutional directors. Rather, MPLP grabs upon the communal instincts of archivists when we all walk amidst our shelves of unprocessed material and our hearts cry out “Boy, I’d really like these materials to be available for use!” MPLP in archives is common sense guided by an archivist’s trained processing instincts, pure and simple. It works best as an archival approach for medium to large collections, and will help relieve the stress on archives’ pocketbooks and on their shelving limitations. However, MPLP can be a challenging processing technique for the entry-level archivist. The fresh meat of preservation circles have not been entirely in charge of working larger collections, nor have they fully gained confidence in their decision-making skills in regards to archives. They are full of the perfect professional archival wisdom gleaned from the intellects of their model archivist instructors, ready to save the day with PlastiKlips and polyester film. The harsh realities of possibly being the only trained archivist at an institution, or spending all your waking hours on donor relations and grant-writing, have not permeated these pure ones (you can chuckle now if you so desire, reader). Such was my initial experience as a volunteer, full-time archivist on the Congressman David Hobson Papers at Wright State University Special Collections and Archives in Dayton, Ohio.
Fresh out of Wright State University’s Public History graduate program, I needed the one thing all employers demand of potential employees: experience in their field. Towards that end, I volunteered for my first non-school related archivist position in the summer of 2010 for two and a half months, and was assigned to work on two collections at the WSU Special Collections. The larger of the two collections was what turned out to be a 151-banker box collection of materials from a former U.S. Congressman for the Ohio 7th District, David Hobson. Congressman Hobson had retired from office in 2008, and his collection had been coming to the Special Collections in pieces over a span of two years. This collection was one of several recent, extremely large collections to grace their presence in the Special Collections’ holdings. Congressman Hobson’s papers were fairly organized, and what was not organized could be ordered fairly quickly if the right approach was taken to the collection. Space was at a premium, time was of the essence, and a young archivist was handed what seemed a beast of a collection. The rather unique part of this particular collection was that the Special Collections was making it their first try at MPLP processing, of which I had only a passing familiarity prior to this endeavor.
My experiences have taught me that both extremes of the MPLP debate are missing the point: processing just to process is not good history or professional conduct; neither are sidestepping traditional techniques or providing less detail merely to get archival collections prepared in a state we term “available to the public.” An insurance company that just processes all insurance claims will not be in business long, neither will a grocery store whose products are “available to the public” but without any pricing information for the products on the shelves. Processing should have nothing else at its heart but to make available to others the expertise and “special” knowledge you, the processor, have gained from your unique, in-depth experience of processing a collection. Most researches will never be able to do what you have done (nor will most archivists be thrilled with a researcher asking to see all 100 boxes of a collection to get to know better the topic or person represented in the collection). Therefore, I present to the archival community—and especially to entry-level archivists—several principles (in true I-Robot form) to make MPLP about a good product in less time, that still falls within much of traditional archival teaching.
First Principle: make the inventory of your collection the centerpiece of the MPLP process. The difference between a traditional inventory and an MPLP inventory should be obvious: since MPLP is less specific, the one element of this processing mechanism that should be extremely in-depth is the inventory. While this point seems contrary to “traditional” MPLP strategies, it is a vital element of a version of MPLP developed throughout the processing of the Hobson collection. The less detailed an inventory is, the more often one will have to double check boxes and continually change their series, topical breakdowns, and rearrange the contents of their boxes, wasting valuable time and energy that the MPLP process is meant to save in the first place. The more detailed the inventory, the less one will have need to work in depth on the scope and content notes, for much of what you need will be already included in the inventory. The in-depth inventory additionally will make it easy for an archivist to handle over some processing duties to student assistants or volunteers, ensuring that they have the information they need to create box or series lists. Inventorying is less time-consuming than physical processing of materials, and it pays to spend an extra few days on the inventory if it means saving you a few weeks down the road. This is especially the case when there is only one person working on a collection, and that person has to move the boxes back and forth from their storage location. For large collections in many archives, this is an impracticality and an unnecessarily exhausting exercise.
Second Principle: the series and subseries of your collection are the keys to a successful MPLP process. The more series and subseries you have without overdoing it, the less time you, the archivist, has to spend on folder-level or item-level description and detail. I gave the Hobson collection 12 series and 37 subseries to facilitate such a detailed order that the collection could be processed with a great amount of description and control, while simultaneously cutting off time and the number of supplies needed to process at a minute level. Within the series or subseries of the collection, I arranged the foldered materials in a rough chronological order by year (rough since not every single item was sorted or checked for a date, in keeping with normal MPLP techniques). For example, note the following entry for Series I from the introduction paragraph for the Hobson Papers’ scope and content note:
Series I: Congressional Legislation (102nd-110th Congress), is housed in 10 records center boxes and divided into five subseries: Subseries IA: Miscellaneous Legislative Issues and Debates, Subseries IB: Congressional Bills and Resolutions, Subseries IC: Signed Letters and Sponsored Legislation, Subseries ID: Thank You Letters, and Subseries IE: Congratulation Letters.
Rather than leaving all the letters in one series as “Congressional Correspondence,” the divisions of “letters” to Congressman Hobson were broken into Thank You Letters, Congratulation Letters, and in Series II the Constituent Correspondence. This category separation gives the researcher enough of an understanding of what should be contained within each subseries that no more processing detail beyond the folders (see discussion a little further on related to using folders for subject matters) should be needed. If I am a researcher looking to see if there exists a thank you letter from Senator Trent Lott (for example) to Congressman Hobson, the “Thank You Letters” subseries, being within the Congressional Legislation series, should guide one to realize these thank you letters are related specifically to Congressman Hobson’s dealings with politicians and organizations concerning legislative issues (not thank you letters of a more personal nature). There should be no need for a single item-level description or MARC entry for “Thank You Letter, From Trent Lott to David Hobson, [date]” (technically incorrect, I know—I use merely as an example).
The greatest element of control in MPLP processing are the series and subseries of the collection. Even more so than traditional processing, the more detailed a description for the contents within the series or subseries—or a greater number of subseries to provide greater control—the less time and description one has to spend beyond the folder level. Item level can almost entirely be dismissed from MPLP processing (except, of course, on occasion depending on the number of items or importance of those items historically), which leaves the archivist the flexibility to process as many folders as possible that belong to one subseries before moving onto another.
Third Principle: subjects and folders can and should go hand-in-hand where possible. Congressman Hobson was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives Energy and Water Development Appropriations Subcommittee of the Committee on the Budget. Under his watch, the subcommittee dealt with the issues of nuclear waste sites and nuclear weapons. There was a great deal of information on this topic, but the individual items often were a little scattered, with there being copied newspaper articles for research, official subcommittee hearing transcripts, letters from experts in the nuclear field, and so forth. Rather than agonize about the item-level description or division of the folders, I used these two broad subject categories—nuclear waste sites and nuclear weapons—and put all the materials dealing with each respective topic in a folder labeled either “Nuclear Waste Sites” or “Nuclear Weapons.” There were several folders for each subject, span dates were assigned to each folder’s contents, and the processing was complete. In this manner, a researcher looking for information on nuclear waste site cleanups in the 2000s would be able to search the Hobson collection’s box list, where the folder title is listed, and the researcher can then search though each individual item in the folder. You see, there’s no loss of access—it is just a broader way of thinking about access.
Librarians who utilize access points in cataloging descriptions for, say, a book on World War II in North Africa, could represent the subjects “World War II in northern Africa” and “Operation Torch in North Africa” as, respectively, the subject classifications “Africa, North--History, Military--20th century” and “U.S. Army campaigns of World War II.” Although you do not list all the countries in which the U.S. Army fought in Africa or the specific military campaign in Vichy-controlled French North Africa, a researcher will look under resources dealing with the subject heading “U.S. Army campaigns of World War II” for a book on Operation Torch. This is in keeping with the definition of subject classification according to Richard Pearce-Moses’ staple work Glossary of Archival and Records Terminology: “The organization of materials into categories according to a scheme that identifies, distinguishes, and relates the concepts or topics of the materials” (Reference #2). Broad subjects are helpful for most of what an archivist will process utilizing MPLP.
You might be thinking, “We already follow these guidelines, though—so what is so different in your approach compared with ours?” The rest of this article will be focusing on the specific time, space, and non-traditional benefits wrought by the approach taken with the Congressman David Hobson collection. One issue in current MPLP processing approaches is the belief that to save time, less-descriptive finding aids are needed when using MPLP on a collection. Christine Weideman stated in her MPLP article “Accessioning As Processing” regarding Yale University’s MPLP approach that “By doing so little work beneath the series level and within folders, the accuracy of the finding aid is potentially compromised for researchers and reference archivists” (Reference #3).
My question is simple: why? Why does it have to? A finding aid’s most relevant factors are the scope and content note, biographical information/historical sketch note, and arrangement note. If one follows the principles I have laid out above, an archival collection’s box list should be a mere listing of the folder titles, in the order in which the processor(s) have arranged them within the box. The inventory of the 151 boxes (now whittled down to 140 linear feet) of the Congressman David Hobson Papers took me two weeks on a part-time basis; the rest of my time was spent pulling reference desk hours, and processing the other collection I mentioned previously to which I had been assigned. The actual processing of the collection occurred from July 26, 2010, to August 13, 2010, Monday through Friday, during which time I provided occasional research assistance, served 10-12 hours a week on the reference desk, and served in a variety of other small capacities. Three solid weeks of processing led to the complete processing, re-boxing, needed re-foldering, and historical research of approximately 110 of the original 151 unprocessed boxes of the Hobson collection. I then worked in the WSU Archives for 7 hours per week for about a month (from the end of August to the first week of October), during which time I processed another 15 boxes and created a processing scheme—complete with processing guidelines—for the graduate assistant who would complete the collection, including filling in the box list. A total of about a month of processing led to the processing of 125 boxes, with 15 of those boxes being eliminated due to condensing the materials and giving them better physical arrangement. The total processing time for the collection, between myself and the graduate assistant, took approximately two and a half to four months.
As of the time of this writing, the WSU Special Collections graduate assistant—Jeremy Katz—who was assigned to complete the collection following my guidelines, has completed all processing steps, and finalized the collection and its finding aid (see the finding aid here: Congressman David Hobson Papers). The finding aid totaled 98 pages. Most of this is the box list, with pretty basic biographical and arrangement notes that sufficiently explain the collection’s history and organization. Mr. Katz worked on the remaining part of the collection—26 boxes of photographs and local Ohio district records—part-time on what is already a part-time work schedule (20 hours a week for graduate assistants at Wright State University). The description of the collection in detail in the finding aid makes handling such a large collection so much easier, particularly when a researcher is looking for certain information from the collection. Less-descriptive finding aids are not always better, and will cost an archival repository in the long run with the time needed to answer researcher’s questions, and clear up their confusion over little described or arranged portions of a collection. There is one institution in the state of Ohio in which I researched that utilized MPLP-styled finding aids, and they were quite awful: not only were the descriptions incorrect, but the categories and arrangement of materials were confusing. Saving time is no excuse for poor organization or poor description.
A second point I would like to address regarding the MPLP debate is the issue of FTEs (full-time equivalent) archivists and time-saving procedures. In his response to some technical and perhaps analytical inconsistencies with the Greene-Messner approach, Carl Van Ness of the University of Florida made an extremely obvious and also extremely vital observation about archival institutions and the implementation of MPLP:
At most institutions, people at the bottom of the archival workforce hierarchy perform the labor-intensive preservation tasks [i.e. remove paper clips, etc.]. At academic repositories, student assistants, many on federal work-study assistance and making near minimum wage, are routinely employed. At local historical societies, unpaid volunteers often do the work. Furthermore, these same people perform labor-intensive descriptive tasks such as typing up file title lists. . . The unskilled FTE saved when we stop removing paper clips will not convert to even a fraction of the professional or paraprofessional FTEs needed to bolster descriptive programs and reference services" (Reference #4).
Exactly! This, my fellow archivists, is precisely the problem. Would an architectural firm have an intern draw up all the infrastructure support plans for a skyscraper? Would a general have a private lead a charge into a battle? Would a historian and history professor put the writing of their monumental history of Aaron Burr on their graduate assistant? Obviously, no. Then why do archives allow such a large amount of the work to be done by students? What are the actual trained archivists doing? Usually, donor relations, outreach, cataloging, preservation tasks, exhibit creation/installation, committee meetings, budget meetings, and the list goes on and on. I suppose, as a young professional, I would ask why someone goes to school for 6-8 years for history-related studies and professional training in archives/library science, only to have someone with at minimum a bachelor’s degree do the processing, description, and creation of a finding aid for a manuscript collection?
I am not attempting or mean to knock or insult any archivist out there; I simply am pointing out how the issues observed by Greene-Messiner, Van Ness, and many other professionals have developed. An archival institution is a complex organization requiring professional archivists to wear many hats and change direction on projects at the drop of a dime. However, the issue still exists, and professional archivists are, in the words of Van Ness, serving as a “collection curator” (Reference #5). As a student, I have seen the student side of processing, and through my connection with numerous archival students and professionals in the field, I am well aware of the numerous mistakes that these archival “newbies” make on collections. This is where the real time comes from in many archives: not only do archivists have to train the volunteers and student assistants, but they will later have to go back through these individuals work and possibly redo a great amount of it. Obviously, students (I include myself in this group to a degree), need training from somewhere, and archival institutions are the only places to receive that training hands-on. However, because of the extreme amount of quick decision-making necessitated by the MPLP technique, I strongly believe the archivist in charge of the collection should be very involved in the processing itself of collections utilizing MPLP. Oftentimes, students can be afraid of getting in trouble for mistakes, over-think decisions, and often are afraid to ask a busy archivist for assistance or clarification on any MPLP approaches to particular problems. If professional archivists are having difficulty getting accustomed to MPLP, then it follows that students and volunteers would have much more so of a difficult time.
Equally important, student assistants and volunteers often become the experts on the collection which they are processing. When these short-term “employees” leave the archival institution they call home, what can an archives do? After all, we are told time and again in the archival community that the archivist who worked on a particular collection is an invaluable source of information for researchers on those collections. Yet if those with the knowledge of the collections leave the archives for whatever reason, how will the time, research needs, and access at that institution be affected? Can this effect be quantified in dollars and minutes? The answer is an obvious no. By the archival community placing the great bulk of their processing on non-permanent individuals, their institutional knowledge—the thing that makes an archives so invaluable for researchers—is greatly harmed for the negative.
As for myself, I was a volunteer and had just been a student as of the summer of 2010; however, I also had the archival studies degree, completed my archives internship, processed several collections, been a published author/researcher, and had a good hold on the history and subject matter involved in the collection. John Armstrong, reference archivist at WSU Special Collections and Archives, was the archivist in charge over me during my processing of the collection, to be there as a sounding board for decisions and also to make calls on important issues related to the policies of WSU Special Collections and any donor restrictions on the collection. Even so, I was allowed to process the collection independently, and had occasionally been consulted by the graduate assistant who completed the Hobson collection. That being said, there were a combination of experience factors, pre-existing knowledge, and trust involved in the processing of the collection that can take a while in institutions which are just becoming familiar with the character and knowledge of their new volunteers and student assistants. Supervision and training of student assistants and volunteers often slips through the cracks in many archival institutions throughout the country (coming from the perspective of a student familiar with other student’s experience at these institutions). The training may come with time, but MPLP is suppose to be a time-saving device that requires experience to apply it to the utmost of its potential as a technique.
Did I remove paper clips, staples, acidic manila folders, and other harmful elements to the materials in the Hobson collection? When necessary for re-filing or due to bad deterioration—most certainly. Did we remove everything from their acidic folders and place them in newer, more expensive acid-free folders—not always. General constituent correspondence, which contained innumerable staples and odd material types, were left in their manila envelopes. This was partly due to the numbering on the existing folders, partly to save time, and partly because there is no point in re-folding all of 53 boxes of paper objects if the acidic papers in them are going to be left with envelopes containing glue, staples, glittery thank you cards, and other such archival preservation nightmares. The reality was that general correspondence does not garner as many researcher requests as would congressional correspondence. Additionally, taking valuable archival supplies from use in, say, an addition to Glenn Curtiss collection material held at Wright State Special Collections could not be justified in order to preserve a note, for example, on blue card stock from a 5-year old girl telling Congressman Hobson “thanks for coming to our school.” As such, I agree with Dan Santamaria’s observation that “Processing priorities and even processing decisions about individual collections are simply a form of appraisal, of assigning value to collections and portions of collections” (bold and italics added) (Reference #6). The great strength of MPLP is the ability to appraise materials quickly; but this approach in the hands of the ill-equipped can make those quick decisions quick problems, as well.
Hopefully, my experience with MPLP and the approach utilized on this particular collection will help to increase the comfort level of applying MPLP. The key to the use of MPLP on a chosen collection is to not focus on the details, in order to provide more detail in less time for the user. In a session at the MAC Fall 2006 Symposium on Minimal Processing, Colleen McFarland summed it up best by advising: “Be imperfect. Perfection is your worst enemy. . . Collections do not have to look pristine in order to contain useful information" (Reference #7).
References
1) Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner, “More Product, Less Process: Revamping Traditional Processing,” American Archivist 68:2 (2005).
2) Richard Pearce-Moses, Glossary of Archival and Records Terminology (Chicago: Society of American Archivists, 2005), viewed on February 16, 2011, at http://www.archivists.org/glossary/index.asp.
3) Christine Weideman, “Accessioning as Processing." American Archivist (Chicago: Society of American Archivists) 69.2 (Fall/Winter 2006): 282.
4) Carl Van Ness, “Much Ado About Paper Clips: ‘More Product, Less Process’ and the Modern Manuscript Repository,” American Archivist 73.1 (Spring/Summer 2010): 138-139.
5) Van Ness, 144.
6) Dan Santamaria, “Guest blogger: Dan Santamaria shares some thoughts on the recent MPLP discussions” (August 21, 2009), viewed on February 16, 2011, at http://www.archivesnext.com/?p=332.
7) Colleen McFarland, “‘It Changed My Life:' Lessons Learned from Minimal Processing,” presented by Colleen McFarland at the Midwest Archives Conference Fall Symposium, October 2006 (viewed on February 20, 2011, at http://www.archivists.org/saagroups/lonearr/resources.asp).
To step aside from QR codes for a time, I am offering this post on Greene-Meissner's "More Product, Less Process" approach to archival processing for young archivists.
Fresh-out-of-graduate-school archivists are full of optimism, fervor, and an abundance of knowledge from archivist conferences, literature, and internships. Though their levels of experience differ, they have all heard of the hip-cat lingo for the 21st-century archivist: EAD, digital preservation, Web 2.0, and email archiving. One such term that has spread a wildfire of debate throughout the archival community is the recommendation by Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner—that archivists let go of their anal-retentive, perfectionist tendencies in order to provide the public with access to records by a more streamlined, realistic approach to processing backlogged archival collections. Labeled “More Product, Less Process” (or MPLP for short), the debate over this processing strategy centers not on its usefulness as a technique—what self-respecting archivist would not love to process a great number of collections in a shorter period of time!—but on its ability to capture or control the descriptive elements of a set of archival records within the confines of the professional responsibilities of an archivist. (Reference #1)
Understandably, traditionally-trained archivists cringe at the notion of not arranging or giving their utmost attention to every individual item in a collection. We who have undergone such training feel that to do less than our best with each piece of paper or photograph could leave some tidbit of historical information un-announced to researchers who could be desperately seeking such material for a project or paper. Yet, MPLP is not about neglecting descriptive elements or mere exhibition of an increased performance by the archives to its institutional directors. Rather, MPLP grabs upon the communal instincts of archivists when we all walk amidst our shelves of unprocessed material and our hearts cry out “Boy, I’d really like these materials to be available for use!” MPLP in archives is common sense guided by an archivist’s trained processing instincts, pure and simple. It works best as an archival approach for medium to large collections, and will help relieve the stress on archives’ pocketbooks and on their shelving limitations. However, MPLP can be a challenging processing technique for the entry-level archivist. The fresh meat of preservation circles have not been entirely in charge of working larger collections, nor have they fully gained confidence in their decision-making skills in regards to archives. They are full of the perfect professional archival wisdom gleaned from the intellects of their model archivist instructors, ready to save the day with PlastiKlips and polyester film. The harsh realities of possibly being the only trained archivist at an institution, or spending all your waking hours on donor relations and grant-writing, have not permeated these pure ones (you can chuckle now if you so desire, reader). Such was my initial experience as a volunteer, full-time archivist on the Congressman David Hobson Papers at Wright State University Special Collections and Archives in Dayton, Ohio.
Fresh out of Wright State University’s Public History graduate program, I needed the one thing all employers demand of potential employees: experience in their field. Towards that end, I volunteered for my first non-school related archivist position in the summer of 2010 for two and a half months, and was assigned to work on two collections at the WSU Special Collections. The larger of the two collections was what turned out to be a 151-banker box collection of materials from a former U.S. Congressman for the Ohio 7th District, David Hobson. Congressman Hobson had retired from office in 2008, and his collection had been coming to the Special Collections in pieces over a span of two years. This collection was one of several recent, extremely large collections to grace their presence in the Special Collections’ holdings. Congressman Hobson’s papers were fairly organized, and what was not organized could be ordered fairly quickly if the right approach was taken to the collection. Space was at a premium, time was of the essence, and a young archivist was handed what seemed a beast of a collection. The rather unique part of this particular collection was that the Special Collections was making it their first try at MPLP processing, of which I had only a passing familiarity prior to this endeavor.
My experiences have taught me that both extremes of the MPLP debate are missing the point: processing just to process is not good history or professional conduct; neither are sidestepping traditional techniques or providing less detail merely to get archival collections prepared in a state we term “available to the public.” An insurance company that just processes all insurance claims will not be in business long, neither will a grocery store whose products are “available to the public” but without any pricing information for the products on the shelves. Processing should have nothing else at its heart but to make available to others the expertise and “special” knowledge you, the processor, have gained from your unique, in-depth experience of processing a collection. Most researches will never be able to do what you have done (nor will most archivists be thrilled with a researcher asking to see all 100 boxes of a collection to get to know better the topic or person represented in the collection). Therefore, I present to the archival community—and especially to entry-level archivists—several principles (in true I-Robot form) to make MPLP about a good product in less time, that still falls within much of traditional archival teaching.
First Principle: make the inventory of your collection the centerpiece of the MPLP process. The difference between a traditional inventory and an MPLP inventory should be obvious: since MPLP is less specific, the one element of this processing mechanism that should be extremely in-depth is the inventory. While this point seems contrary to “traditional” MPLP strategies, it is a vital element of a version of MPLP developed throughout the processing of the Hobson collection. The less detailed an inventory is, the more often one will have to double check boxes and continually change their series, topical breakdowns, and rearrange the contents of their boxes, wasting valuable time and energy that the MPLP process is meant to save in the first place. The more detailed the inventory, the less one will have need to work in depth on the scope and content notes, for much of what you need will be already included in the inventory. The in-depth inventory additionally will make it easy for an archivist to handle over some processing duties to student assistants or volunteers, ensuring that they have the information they need to create box or series lists. Inventorying is less time-consuming than physical processing of materials, and it pays to spend an extra few days on the inventory if it means saving you a few weeks down the road. This is especially the case when there is only one person working on a collection, and that person has to move the boxes back and forth from their storage location. For large collections in many archives, this is an impracticality and an unnecessarily exhausting exercise.
Second Principle: the series and subseries of your collection are the keys to a successful MPLP process. The more series and subseries you have without overdoing it, the less time you, the archivist, has to spend on folder-level or item-level description and detail. I gave the Hobson collection 12 series and 37 subseries to facilitate such a detailed order that the collection could be processed with a great amount of description and control, while simultaneously cutting off time and the number of supplies needed to process at a minute level. Within the series or subseries of the collection, I arranged the foldered materials in a rough chronological order by year (rough since not every single item was sorted or checked for a date, in keeping with normal MPLP techniques). For example, note the following entry for Series I from the introduction paragraph for the Hobson Papers’ scope and content note:
Series I: Congressional Legislation (102nd-110th Congress), is housed in 10 records center boxes and divided into five subseries: Subseries IA: Miscellaneous Legislative Issues and Debates, Subseries IB: Congressional Bills and Resolutions, Subseries IC: Signed Letters and Sponsored Legislation, Subseries ID: Thank You Letters, and Subseries IE: Congratulation Letters.
Rather than leaving all the letters in one series as “Congressional Correspondence,” the divisions of “letters” to Congressman Hobson were broken into Thank You Letters, Congratulation Letters, and in Series II the Constituent Correspondence. This category separation gives the researcher enough of an understanding of what should be contained within each subseries that no more processing detail beyond the folders (see discussion a little further on related to using folders for subject matters) should be needed. If I am a researcher looking to see if there exists a thank you letter from Senator Trent Lott (for example) to Congressman Hobson, the “Thank You Letters” subseries, being within the Congressional Legislation series, should guide one to realize these thank you letters are related specifically to Congressman Hobson’s dealings with politicians and organizations concerning legislative issues (not thank you letters of a more personal nature). There should be no need for a single item-level description or MARC entry for “Thank You Letter, From Trent Lott to David Hobson, [date]” (technically incorrect, I know—I use merely as an example).
The greatest element of control in MPLP processing are the series and subseries of the collection. Even more so than traditional processing, the more detailed a description for the contents within the series or subseries—or a greater number of subseries to provide greater control—the less time and description one has to spend beyond the folder level. Item level can almost entirely be dismissed from MPLP processing (except, of course, on occasion depending on the number of items or importance of those items historically), which leaves the archivist the flexibility to process as many folders as possible that belong to one subseries before moving onto another.
Third Principle: subjects and folders can and should go hand-in-hand where possible. Congressman Hobson was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives Energy and Water Development Appropriations Subcommittee of the Committee on the Budget. Under his watch, the subcommittee dealt with the issues of nuclear waste sites and nuclear weapons. There was a great deal of information on this topic, but the individual items often were a little scattered, with there being copied newspaper articles for research, official subcommittee hearing transcripts, letters from experts in the nuclear field, and so forth. Rather than agonize about the item-level description or division of the folders, I used these two broad subject categories—nuclear waste sites and nuclear weapons—and put all the materials dealing with each respective topic in a folder labeled either “Nuclear Waste Sites” or “Nuclear Weapons.” There were several folders for each subject, span dates were assigned to each folder’s contents, and the processing was complete. In this manner, a researcher looking for information on nuclear waste site cleanups in the 2000s would be able to search the Hobson collection’s box list, where the folder title is listed, and the researcher can then search though each individual item in the folder. You see, there’s no loss of access—it is just a broader way of thinking about access.
Librarians who utilize access points in cataloging descriptions for, say, a book on World War II in North Africa, could represent the subjects “World War II in northern Africa” and “Operation Torch in North Africa” as, respectively, the subject classifications “Africa, North--History, Military--20th century” and “U.S. Army campaigns of World War II.” Although you do not list all the countries in which the U.S. Army fought in Africa or the specific military campaign in Vichy-controlled French North Africa, a researcher will look under resources dealing with the subject heading “U.S. Army campaigns of World War II” for a book on Operation Torch. This is in keeping with the definition of subject classification according to Richard Pearce-Moses’ staple work Glossary of Archival and Records Terminology: “The organization of materials into categories according to a scheme that identifies, distinguishes, and relates the concepts or topics of the materials” (Reference #2). Broad subjects are helpful for most of what an archivist will process utilizing MPLP.
You might be thinking, “We already follow these guidelines, though—so what is so different in your approach compared with ours?” The rest of this article will be focusing on the specific time, space, and non-traditional benefits wrought by the approach taken with the Congressman David Hobson collection. One issue in current MPLP processing approaches is the belief that to save time, less-descriptive finding aids are needed when using MPLP on a collection. Christine Weideman stated in her MPLP article “Accessioning As Processing” regarding Yale University’s MPLP approach that “By doing so little work beneath the series level and within folders, the accuracy of the finding aid is potentially compromised for researchers and reference archivists” (Reference #3).
My question is simple: why? Why does it have to? A finding aid’s most relevant factors are the scope and content note, biographical information/historical sketch note, and arrangement note. If one follows the principles I have laid out above, an archival collection’s box list should be a mere listing of the folder titles, in the order in which the processor(s) have arranged them within the box. The inventory of the 151 boxes (now whittled down to 140 linear feet) of the Congressman David Hobson Papers took me two weeks on a part-time basis; the rest of my time was spent pulling reference desk hours, and processing the other collection I mentioned previously to which I had been assigned. The actual processing of the collection occurred from July 26, 2010, to August 13, 2010, Monday through Friday, during which time I provided occasional research assistance, served 10-12 hours a week on the reference desk, and served in a variety of other small capacities. Three solid weeks of processing led to the complete processing, re-boxing, needed re-foldering, and historical research of approximately 110 of the original 151 unprocessed boxes of the Hobson collection. I then worked in the WSU Archives for 7 hours per week for about a month (from the end of August to the first week of October), during which time I processed another 15 boxes and created a processing scheme—complete with processing guidelines—for the graduate assistant who would complete the collection, including filling in the box list. A total of about a month of processing led to the processing of 125 boxes, with 15 of those boxes being eliminated due to condensing the materials and giving them better physical arrangement. The total processing time for the collection, between myself and the graduate assistant, took approximately two and a half to four months.
As of the time of this writing, the WSU Special Collections graduate assistant—Jeremy Katz—who was assigned to complete the collection following my guidelines, has completed all processing steps, and finalized the collection and its finding aid (see the finding aid here: Congressman David Hobson Papers). The finding aid totaled 98 pages. Most of this is the box list, with pretty basic biographical and arrangement notes that sufficiently explain the collection’s history and organization. Mr. Katz worked on the remaining part of the collection—26 boxes of photographs and local Ohio district records—part-time on what is already a part-time work schedule (20 hours a week for graduate assistants at Wright State University). The description of the collection in detail in the finding aid makes handling such a large collection so much easier, particularly when a researcher is looking for certain information from the collection. Less-descriptive finding aids are not always better, and will cost an archival repository in the long run with the time needed to answer researcher’s questions, and clear up their confusion over little described or arranged portions of a collection. There is one institution in the state of Ohio in which I researched that utilized MPLP-styled finding aids, and they were quite awful: not only were the descriptions incorrect, but the categories and arrangement of materials were confusing. Saving time is no excuse for poor organization or poor description.
A second point I would like to address regarding the MPLP debate is the issue of FTEs (full-time equivalent) archivists and time-saving procedures. In his response to some technical and perhaps analytical inconsistencies with the Greene-Messner approach, Carl Van Ness of the University of Florida made an extremely obvious and also extremely vital observation about archival institutions and the implementation of MPLP:
At most institutions, people at the bottom of the archival workforce hierarchy perform the labor-intensive preservation tasks [i.e. remove paper clips, etc.]. At academic repositories, student assistants, many on federal work-study assistance and making near minimum wage, are routinely employed. At local historical societies, unpaid volunteers often do the work. Furthermore, these same people perform labor-intensive descriptive tasks such as typing up file title lists. . . The unskilled FTE saved when we stop removing paper clips will not convert to even a fraction of the professional or paraprofessional FTEs needed to bolster descriptive programs and reference services" (Reference #4).
Exactly! This, my fellow archivists, is precisely the problem. Would an architectural firm have an intern draw up all the infrastructure support plans for a skyscraper? Would a general have a private lead a charge into a battle? Would a historian and history professor put the writing of their monumental history of Aaron Burr on their graduate assistant? Obviously, no. Then why do archives allow such a large amount of the work to be done by students? What are the actual trained archivists doing? Usually, donor relations, outreach, cataloging, preservation tasks, exhibit creation/installation, committee meetings, budget meetings, and the list goes on and on. I suppose, as a young professional, I would ask why someone goes to school for 6-8 years for history-related studies and professional training in archives/library science, only to have someone with at minimum a bachelor’s degree do the processing, description, and creation of a finding aid for a manuscript collection?
I am not attempting or mean to knock or insult any archivist out there; I simply am pointing out how the issues observed by Greene-Messiner, Van Ness, and many other professionals have developed. An archival institution is a complex organization requiring professional archivists to wear many hats and change direction on projects at the drop of a dime. However, the issue still exists, and professional archivists are, in the words of Van Ness, serving as a “collection curator” (Reference #5). As a student, I have seen the student side of processing, and through my connection with numerous archival students and professionals in the field, I am well aware of the numerous mistakes that these archival “newbies” make on collections. This is where the real time comes from in many archives: not only do archivists have to train the volunteers and student assistants, but they will later have to go back through these individuals work and possibly redo a great amount of it. Obviously, students (I include myself in this group to a degree), need training from somewhere, and archival institutions are the only places to receive that training hands-on. However, because of the extreme amount of quick decision-making necessitated by the MPLP technique, I strongly believe the archivist in charge of the collection should be very involved in the processing itself of collections utilizing MPLP. Oftentimes, students can be afraid of getting in trouble for mistakes, over-think decisions, and often are afraid to ask a busy archivist for assistance or clarification on any MPLP approaches to particular problems. If professional archivists are having difficulty getting accustomed to MPLP, then it follows that students and volunteers would have much more so of a difficult time.
Equally important, student assistants and volunteers often become the experts on the collection which they are processing. When these short-term “employees” leave the archival institution they call home, what can an archives do? After all, we are told time and again in the archival community that the archivist who worked on a particular collection is an invaluable source of information for researchers on those collections. Yet if those with the knowledge of the collections leave the archives for whatever reason, how will the time, research needs, and access at that institution be affected? Can this effect be quantified in dollars and minutes? The answer is an obvious no. By the archival community placing the great bulk of their processing on non-permanent individuals, their institutional knowledge—the thing that makes an archives so invaluable for researchers—is greatly harmed for the negative.
As for myself, I was a volunteer and had just been a student as of the summer of 2010; however, I also had the archival studies degree, completed my archives internship, processed several collections, been a published author/researcher, and had a good hold on the history and subject matter involved in the collection. John Armstrong, reference archivist at WSU Special Collections and Archives, was the archivist in charge over me during my processing of the collection, to be there as a sounding board for decisions and also to make calls on important issues related to the policies of WSU Special Collections and any donor restrictions on the collection. Even so, I was allowed to process the collection independently, and had occasionally been consulted by the graduate assistant who completed the Hobson collection. That being said, there were a combination of experience factors, pre-existing knowledge, and trust involved in the processing of the collection that can take a while in institutions which are just becoming familiar with the character and knowledge of their new volunteers and student assistants. Supervision and training of student assistants and volunteers often slips through the cracks in many archival institutions throughout the country (coming from the perspective of a student familiar with other student’s experience at these institutions). The training may come with time, but MPLP is suppose to be a time-saving device that requires experience to apply it to the utmost of its potential as a technique.
Did I remove paper clips, staples, acidic manila folders, and other harmful elements to the materials in the Hobson collection? When necessary for re-filing or due to bad deterioration—most certainly. Did we remove everything from their acidic folders and place them in newer, more expensive acid-free folders—not always. General constituent correspondence, which contained innumerable staples and odd material types, were left in their manila envelopes. This was partly due to the numbering on the existing folders, partly to save time, and partly because there is no point in re-folding all of 53 boxes of paper objects if the acidic papers in them are going to be left with envelopes containing glue, staples, glittery thank you cards, and other such archival preservation nightmares. The reality was that general correspondence does not garner as many researcher requests as would congressional correspondence. Additionally, taking valuable archival supplies from use in, say, an addition to Glenn Curtiss collection material held at Wright State Special Collections could not be justified in order to preserve a note, for example, on blue card stock from a 5-year old girl telling Congressman Hobson “thanks for coming to our school.” As such, I agree with Dan Santamaria’s observation that “Processing priorities and even processing decisions about individual collections are simply a form of appraisal, of assigning value to collections and portions of collections” (bold and italics added) (Reference #6). The great strength of MPLP is the ability to appraise materials quickly; but this approach in the hands of the ill-equipped can make those quick decisions quick problems, as well.
Hopefully, my experience with MPLP and the approach utilized on this particular collection will help to increase the comfort level of applying MPLP. The key to the use of MPLP on a chosen collection is to not focus on the details, in order to provide more detail in less time for the user. In a session at the MAC Fall 2006 Symposium on Minimal Processing, Colleen McFarland summed it up best by advising: “Be imperfect. Perfection is your worst enemy. . . Collections do not have to look pristine in order to contain useful information" (Reference #7).
References
1) Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner, “More Product, Less Process: Revamping Traditional Processing,” American Archivist 68:2 (2005).
2) Richard Pearce-Moses, Glossary of Archival and Records Terminology (Chicago: Society of American Archivists, 2005), viewed on February 16, 2011, at http://www.archivists.org/glossary/index.asp.
3) Christine Weideman, “Accessioning as Processing." American Archivist (Chicago: Society of American Archivists) 69.2 (Fall/Winter 2006): 282.
4) Carl Van Ness, “Much Ado About Paper Clips: ‘More Product, Less Process’ and the Modern Manuscript Repository,” American Archivist 73.1 (Spring/Summer 2010): 138-139.
5) Van Ness, 144.
6) Dan Santamaria, “Guest blogger: Dan Santamaria shares some thoughts on the recent MPLP discussions” (August 21, 2009), viewed on February 16, 2011, at http://www.archivesnext.com/?p=332.
7) Colleen McFarland, “‘It Changed My Life:' Lessons Learned from Minimal Processing,” presented by Colleen McFarland at the Midwest Archives Conference Fall Symposium, October 2006 (viewed on February 20, 2011, at http://www.archivists.org/saagroups/lonearr/resources.asp).
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Website Review: University of Alaska, Fairbanks, Alaska Film Archives
In the first of what is hopefully many website reviews to come, I introduce you, my readers, to the Alaska Film Archive (AFA) at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. Let me first start out by saying as an archivist with many films of my own to preserve that of all the states in the U.S., I would like to be in Alaska when in need of a cold-storage room for film reels! Anyway, the site is basic at first, which is not a bad thing: in fact, the simple structure allows discover of materials to be much less cumbersome than huge, fancy websites. Per their project's mission statement, the AFA:
". . . has built the largest collection of archival films in and about Alaska, with particular strength for the pre-statehood era. The current collection of films and videos combines hundreds of individual donations to UAF with films collected earlier by the Alaska State Library. Since 1993 these materials have been maintained in the Alaska Film Archives, a unit of the Alaska and Polar Regions Department in Elmer E. Rasmuson Library. Our goals are to:
Locate and collect film and videotape pertaining to Alaska through donation.
Document the region, date and activities of each film.
Catalog each film or tape and make them available for viewing.
Store original materials in controlled environmental conditions."
The AFA has done remarkable outreach work in the process of identification of their films and the subjects contained therein. Particularly impressive is their cooperative work with native Alaskans and Eskimos to preserve the latter's cultural film heritage: "During the course of the project VHS tape of the films and more than 1100 still-frame photographs captured from film were reviewed by Native elders in six Alaska locations." Not only did the AFA gain immediate users and records requests from this outreach, but the Native Alaskans benefited through the united cultural identification experience. If nothing else had come of it, the archivists would have learned a great deal from the tribal elders about their people and experiences, useful in supporting the awareness and study of Alaskan heritage and native cultures.
From this collaboration came an identification list that is still being built regarding films that would have taken archivists years on their own to identify and describe. Because of the AFA's outreach, they have been able to make use of social networking, placing large numbers of samples of cultural films on their YouTube channel that has resulted in over 100 channel subscribers (quite a bit for an archives' video site), with 153,409 video views since the YouTube channel's creation in October 2009 (http://www.youtube.com/user/alaskafilmarchives).
All of the work the AFA has done with a state that has only been in existence since 1959, and with numerous cultural and economic issues facing them, is quite remarkable in their creative use of resources to promote their relatively remote archival films. Their mission is unique and they are going a great job with such a special project. You all should check them out:
library.uaf.edu/film-archive
-The Eclectic Archivist
". . . has built the largest collection of archival films in and about Alaska, with particular strength for the pre-statehood era. The current collection of films and videos combines hundreds of individual donations to UAF with films collected earlier by the Alaska State Library. Since 1993 these materials have been maintained in the Alaska Film Archives, a unit of the Alaska and Polar Regions Department in Elmer E. Rasmuson Library. Our goals are to:
Locate and collect film and videotape pertaining to Alaska through donation.
Document the region, date and activities of each film.
Catalog each film or tape and make them available for viewing.
Store original materials in controlled environmental conditions."
The AFA has done remarkable outreach work in the process of identification of their films and the subjects contained therein. Particularly impressive is their cooperative work with native Alaskans and Eskimos to preserve the latter's cultural film heritage: "During the course of the project VHS tape of the films and more than 1100 still-frame photographs captured from film were reviewed by Native elders in six Alaska locations." Not only did the AFA gain immediate users and records requests from this outreach, but the Native Alaskans benefited through the united cultural identification experience. If nothing else had come of it, the archivists would have learned a great deal from the tribal elders about their people and experiences, useful in supporting the awareness and study of Alaskan heritage and native cultures.
From this collaboration came an identification list that is still being built regarding films that would have taken archivists years on their own to identify and describe. Because of the AFA's outreach, they have been able to make use of social networking, placing large numbers of samples of cultural films on their YouTube channel that has resulted in over 100 channel subscribers (quite a bit for an archives' video site), with 153,409 video views since the YouTube channel's creation in October 2009 (http://www.youtube.com/user/alaskafilmarchives).
All of the work the AFA has done with a state that has only been in existence since 1959, and with numerous cultural and economic issues facing them, is quite remarkable in their creative use of resources to promote their relatively remote archival films. Their mission is unique and they are going a great job with such a special project. You all should check them out:
library.uaf.edu/film-archive
-The Eclectic Archivist
Sunday, October 9, 2011
I Demand A QR! QR Codes and the Archives, Part 1
Ah, technology. You know, technology use to mean new mechanical devices, new medical discoveries, and new weaponry--at least in the Roaring 1920s. Nowadays, a person's first thought about hearing of a new technology is "I guess that means they are close to cloning now" or "What new miniature camera have they developed?" Life has come far and fast since I was a naive 14-year old in the year 2000. I was still typing papers on a word-processing typewriter my oldest sister owned. The tides have turned, and everything digital has creeped into water cooler conversations and library policy. The newest hot-button ticket are QR codes, or "Quick Response Codes." They are, very simply, "a small square barcode readable by mobile phones and webcams. It can link to a website, an address or other contact info, a video, an animation or other web content" (Source 1). To be more exact, QR codes are two-dimensional bar codes, capable of having their image imaged from numerous different angles, instead of the typical bar code scanner that almost has to be perfectly aligned horizontally in order to read the code. The means of access the information on QR codes has become a reality for widespread use with the rapid development and availability of 3G, 4G, and now 5G cellular phones with descent-resolution digital cameras included.
QR codes are "popular in Japan, where they are used for commercial tracking, logistics, inventory control, and advertising. Their popularity is climbing in Europe, the United States, and Canada as people increasingly use mobile phones to access 3G networks" (Source 2). Webcams are also capable of scanning QR codes, but their interpretation depends on a software that can interpret the images. Also, in order to create QR codes, you must have a QR codes generator (many of which are free online). So, why are they such a big deal, particularly in university and inventory use? Unlike most things in the world, QR codes offer just what their name implies--quick access: "Scanning a QR Code and storing or accessing data directly using your mobile device is more efficient and convenient than writing information down or typing URLs into your mobile device" (Source 3).
The QR Code for this archival blog.
In the non-profit sector, museums, libraries, historical societies, historic walking tour programs, public transportation systems, and a variety of others are using QR codes to connect easy access to easy information location. Why take notes on a notepad in a museum (especially when these days items you can take into public buildings is limited) when you can snap a photo, mark the information for future unlimited access, and continue on your tour of the museum without missing a beat? I personally saw QR codes used extensively in Chicago this summer, particularly in the Art Institute of Chicago. As web browsers have drawn researchers and the general public to using web browsers for marking research (as I do often, through my bookmark feature), the same thing is provided "on-the-go" through QR codes. The idea is very popular now in libraries, which are looking for any low-cost ways to integrate seamlessly new technology into libraries' traditional services and collection offerings. QR codes printed on normal sheets of paper posted on shelves, set alongside displays, and used to draw attention to new holdings is especially popular.
As for cultural institutions, mainly museums and archives, museums have become the greatest user of QR codes, with archives slowly catching up to their possibilities. Even when most archives utilize QR codes, it is for exhibits of archival materials--not for processing, acquisitions, outreach, collections management, or organization. Luther College in Iowa, Mercer University in Georgia, and the National Archives (U.S.) are actively using QR codes in some ways related to their archives' workflow. As mentioned in my previous introductory post to QR codes, there are also some innovative ways in which this technology is being used by historical societies to highlight already online archival materials by other departments in the historical society.
This summer I worked in a summer position researching the entire history of the Old Kentucky State Capitol Building (completed 1830) in Frankfort, Kentucky, for the Education Department of the Kentucky Historical Society. There was a lot of misinformation on the events, people, and construction of the building throughout its history, and I was to research in archives throughout the state (and virtually throughout the country) for primary materials to obtain copies for informational support of programing for the Education Department, particularly for adult audiences. In this time of the Civil War's 150th anniversary, this building was the only Union capitol to have ever been captured and occupied by Confederate forces (happening in 1862). I gave tours of a building with little ability to have extensive museum exhibits inside, and having large amounts of data to tell people within an hour. As KHS's Civil War tour series of the capitol building--held every Saturday afternoon, by the way-- started under way, the Education team was looking for new ways to utilize QR codes for this vital state history tour program.
Let me introduce you to my new good friend Greg Hardison, director of the Museum Theatre program for the Kentucky Historical Society. I have never met a man more excited about finding new archival material for programs, nor have I met a non-archivist whose loved archival materials so much as he. Greg headed the development of the Civil War tour series, and as I was researching the building, he and I worked a lot on records I found and ways to integrate them into tours (or what information would be interesting to visitors). Fortunately, the Special Collections of KHS has a large number of items online, particularly Civil War items. Towards the end of summer, Greg introduced me to QR codes, and that he was planning a program to print copies of our archival material out with QR codes linking the KHS Special Collections' materials to the copied item, for use in the tours. Copies of October 1862 newspapers to be browsed by visitors was great, but so much text on these old papers was hard to read while following a moving tour in a historic building.
Greg's solution: using QR codes printed onto copies of the archival materials would allow him to place items throughout the building without having to create a museum exhibit, while also letting people use their phones to bookmark the newspaper for later use. Literally, people were creating their own virtual archive to relate to the events that happened in the Old State Capitol to follow along with their tour. They could take these things with them on their phone, show the informational component of the tours to their friends and family without having to write down large amounts of information, and the other people could copy the links to learn as well--without having gone on the tour. The possibilities are tremendous, and the simplicity, yet high-impact value of the idea, floored me. Greg caught on something archivists rarely do, because Greg is not an archivist: his job is to entertain, attract, and instruct people in ways that they will find interesting, using visual and sensory interaction to engage the public. I got the hint: time for this archivist to think about applying QR codes to archives.
For full disclosure, I do not have a 3G phone (more because of finances), so I've never used QR codes. But I have extensive inventory use of bar codes in a library and retail sales setting, and have come to understand the value of fast reference via digital scanning capabilities. QR codes offer something archives can value: ways to link on their website specific lines of EAD archival finding aids to archival boxes, folders, and even items. You can print off QR codes on acid-free bond paper sheets, cut off the code, and slide it into the sleeve with the archival item! Archives can implement this new technology with the technology most libraries and individuals have on them already, and you do not need special program approval to institute this so much--you are not adding anything other than another means of using the Internet to connect to your collections from what is already in your archives' catalog. It gives people the option of reading all the archival material for museum exhibits or saving it for later--they might be interested, but have a headache, fussing with the kids, or in a hurry before closing time. Archives can be creative, adding designs to the codes or making them a point of a "treasure hunt" type of event in the archives (or museum).
While all of these things are great, I suggest going further: using the materials in processing archival collections, managing collections, managing acquisitions, and assisting researchers with citation information. All of this shall be discussed in Part 2. Part 3 will look at the mixed-uses of QR codes by museums in tandem with archives, and Part 4 will give my perspective of this newer technology in light of current events in archives. Stay tuned, will you?
Resources
1) “QR codes,” http://wic.library.upenn.edu/wicshops/qrcodes.html.
2) “7 things you should know about... QR Codes,” http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/ELI7046.pdf.
3) “About QR Codes,” http://www.georgefox.edu/offices/murdock/QRCodes.html.
QR codes are "popular in Japan, where they are used for commercial tracking, logistics, inventory control, and advertising. Their popularity is climbing in Europe, the United States, and Canada as people increasingly use mobile phones to access 3G networks" (Source 2). Webcams are also capable of scanning QR codes, but their interpretation depends on a software that can interpret the images. Also, in order to create QR codes, you must have a QR codes generator (many of which are free online). So, why are they such a big deal, particularly in university and inventory use? Unlike most things in the world, QR codes offer just what their name implies--quick access: "Scanning a QR Code and storing or accessing data directly using your mobile device is more efficient and convenient than writing information down or typing URLs into your mobile device" (Source 3).
The QR Code for this archival blog.
In the non-profit sector, museums, libraries, historical societies, historic walking tour programs, public transportation systems, and a variety of others are using QR codes to connect easy access to easy information location. Why take notes on a notepad in a museum (especially when these days items you can take into public buildings is limited) when you can snap a photo, mark the information for future unlimited access, and continue on your tour of the museum without missing a beat? I personally saw QR codes used extensively in Chicago this summer, particularly in the Art Institute of Chicago. As web browsers have drawn researchers and the general public to using web browsers for marking research (as I do often, through my bookmark feature), the same thing is provided "on-the-go" through QR codes. The idea is very popular now in libraries, which are looking for any low-cost ways to integrate seamlessly new technology into libraries' traditional services and collection offerings. QR codes printed on normal sheets of paper posted on shelves, set alongside displays, and used to draw attention to new holdings is especially popular.
As for cultural institutions, mainly museums and archives, museums have become the greatest user of QR codes, with archives slowly catching up to their possibilities. Even when most archives utilize QR codes, it is for exhibits of archival materials--not for processing, acquisitions, outreach, collections management, or organization. Luther College in Iowa, Mercer University in Georgia, and the National Archives (U.S.) are actively using QR codes in some ways related to their archives' workflow. As mentioned in my previous introductory post to QR codes, there are also some innovative ways in which this technology is being used by historical societies to highlight already online archival materials by other departments in the historical society.
This summer I worked in a summer position researching the entire history of the Old Kentucky State Capitol Building (completed 1830) in Frankfort, Kentucky, for the Education Department of the Kentucky Historical Society. There was a lot of misinformation on the events, people, and construction of the building throughout its history, and I was to research in archives throughout the state (and virtually throughout the country) for primary materials to obtain copies for informational support of programing for the Education Department, particularly for adult audiences. In this time of the Civil War's 150th anniversary, this building was the only Union capitol to have ever been captured and occupied by Confederate forces (happening in 1862). I gave tours of a building with little ability to have extensive museum exhibits inside, and having large amounts of data to tell people within an hour. As KHS's Civil War tour series of the capitol building--held every Saturday afternoon, by the way-- started under way, the Education team was looking for new ways to utilize QR codes for this vital state history tour program.
Let me introduce you to my new good friend Greg Hardison, director of the Museum Theatre program for the Kentucky Historical Society. I have never met a man more excited about finding new archival material for programs, nor have I met a non-archivist whose loved archival materials so much as he. Greg headed the development of the Civil War tour series, and as I was researching the building, he and I worked a lot on records I found and ways to integrate them into tours (or what information would be interesting to visitors). Fortunately, the Special Collections of KHS has a large number of items online, particularly Civil War items. Towards the end of summer, Greg introduced me to QR codes, and that he was planning a program to print copies of our archival material out with QR codes linking the KHS Special Collections' materials to the copied item, for use in the tours. Copies of October 1862 newspapers to be browsed by visitors was great, but so much text on these old papers was hard to read while following a moving tour in a historic building.
Greg's solution: using QR codes printed onto copies of the archival materials would allow him to place items throughout the building without having to create a museum exhibit, while also letting people use their phones to bookmark the newspaper for later use. Literally, people were creating their own virtual archive to relate to the events that happened in the Old State Capitol to follow along with their tour. They could take these things with them on their phone, show the informational component of the tours to their friends and family without having to write down large amounts of information, and the other people could copy the links to learn as well--without having gone on the tour. The possibilities are tremendous, and the simplicity, yet high-impact value of the idea, floored me. Greg caught on something archivists rarely do, because Greg is not an archivist: his job is to entertain, attract, and instruct people in ways that they will find interesting, using visual and sensory interaction to engage the public. I got the hint: time for this archivist to think about applying QR codes to archives.
For full disclosure, I do not have a 3G phone (more because of finances), so I've never used QR codes. But I have extensive inventory use of bar codes in a library and retail sales setting, and have come to understand the value of fast reference via digital scanning capabilities. QR codes offer something archives can value: ways to link on their website specific lines of EAD archival finding aids to archival boxes, folders, and even items. You can print off QR codes on acid-free bond paper sheets, cut off the code, and slide it into the sleeve with the archival item! Archives can implement this new technology with the technology most libraries and individuals have on them already, and you do not need special program approval to institute this so much--you are not adding anything other than another means of using the Internet to connect to your collections from what is already in your archives' catalog. It gives people the option of reading all the archival material for museum exhibits or saving it for later--they might be interested, but have a headache, fussing with the kids, or in a hurry before closing time. Archives can be creative, adding designs to the codes or making them a point of a "treasure hunt" type of event in the archives (or museum).
While all of these things are great, I suggest going further: using the materials in processing archival collections, managing collections, managing acquisitions, and assisting researchers with citation information. All of this shall be discussed in Part 2. Part 3 will look at the mixed-uses of QR codes by museums in tandem with archives, and Part 4 will give my perspective of this newer technology in light of current events in archives. Stay tuned, will you?
Resources
1) “QR codes,” http://wic.library.upenn.edu/wicshops/qrcodes.html.
2) “7 things you should know about... QR Codes,” http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/ELI7046.pdf.
3) “About QR Codes,” http://www.georgefox.edu/offices/murdock/QRCodes.html.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The QR Code Conundrum: Archives Facing the New Access
In the months to come, I plan on laying out a researched series of blog posts on the use of QR codes in archival repositories. After attending a session at the recent 2011 SAA Chicago conference on the use of new mobile technologies in archives, I raised a question as to whether anyone was using or had thought of using QR codes in archives for processing collections, for citation aid for researchers going through large amounts of records for publications or research papers, and for faster access to finding aid information.
One archivist from Luther College in Iowa, Sasha Griffin, spoke with me after the conference, notifying me that her institution's current project involved use of QR codes on archival boxes for storage location information, as well as using QR codes when pulling materials for patrons. One of the great benefits of QR codes is that digitized EAD-based finding aids can be used in multiple ways to expand the access and usability of EAD finding aids. As someone who has worked on six EAD finding aids in the past two years (not a lot to some, but not all institutions use EAD yet), I am passionate about connecting the information within the EAD fields with the user's citation, location, and explanatory needs to connect to the finding aid. QR codes have a chance of saving widespread use of finding aids if users are able to "self-discover" the information in finding aids as they explore collections.
There are numerous pros and cons involved, obviously. QR codes do not take long at all to create, are open-source for creation, can be printed off on acid-free paper and any size labels one needs, and offers connection of Web resources from an archives to new technology and discoverability. However, there is also the issue of allowing camera phones to scan the QR codes in an archives (worries about photographing records not meant for reproduction or publication), the issue of technology and changing locations/address of Web links, and the usefulness of QR codes when collections are unprocessed. Still, QR codes have the potential for providing archives with a safer technology alternative to RFID tags (archivists worrying about information contained in the tags being changed by roaming radio frequency scanners/hackers).
As this technology is spreading from the business/shipping/medical sector to everything from realtors posting large QR code signs in yards of for-sale houses, to museum exhibits encouraging Web discovery, QR codes offer real possibilities for archives and museums. In the months to come, I shall describe and commentate on programs at various institutions using QR codes, as well as providing my insight into experience with the early implementation of a QR code program by the Education Department at the Kentucky Historical Society, by the developer of the program, Greg Hardison, Director of Museum Theatre at Kentucky Historical Society. I would also love to hear from my readers on this subject: let me know if you have any questions about QR codes, are using them at your institution, or have other similar technologies you think might be a good alternative while still allowing for user discovering of Web description of archival collections. Time to start this QR bus on the road, ya all!
One archivist from Luther College in Iowa, Sasha Griffin, spoke with me after the conference, notifying me that her institution's current project involved use of QR codes on archival boxes for storage location information, as well as using QR codes when pulling materials for patrons. One of the great benefits of QR codes is that digitized EAD-based finding aids can be used in multiple ways to expand the access and usability of EAD finding aids. As someone who has worked on six EAD finding aids in the past two years (not a lot to some, but not all institutions use EAD yet), I am passionate about connecting the information within the EAD fields with the user's citation, location, and explanatory needs to connect to the finding aid. QR codes have a chance of saving widespread use of finding aids if users are able to "self-discover" the information in finding aids as they explore collections.
There are numerous pros and cons involved, obviously. QR codes do not take long at all to create, are open-source for creation, can be printed off on acid-free paper and any size labels one needs, and offers connection of Web resources from an archives to new technology and discoverability. However, there is also the issue of allowing camera phones to scan the QR codes in an archives (worries about photographing records not meant for reproduction or publication), the issue of technology and changing locations/address of Web links, and the usefulness of QR codes when collections are unprocessed. Still, QR codes have the potential for providing archives with a safer technology alternative to RFID tags (archivists worrying about information contained in the tags being changed by roaming radio frequency scanners/hackers).
As this technology is spreading from the business/shipping/medical sector to everything from realtors posting large QR code signs in yards of for-sale houses, to museum exhibits encouraging Web discovery, QR codes offer real possibilities for archives and museums. In the months to come, I shall describe and commentate on programs at various institutions using QR codes, as well as providing my insight into experience with the early implementation of a QR code program by the Education Department at the Kentucky Historical Society, by the developer of the program, Greg Hardison, Director of Museum Theatre at Kentucky Historical Society. I would also love to hear from my readers on this subject: let me know if you have any questions about QR codes, are using them at your institution, or have other similar technologies you think might be a good alternative while still allowing for user discovering of Web description of archival collections. Time to start this QR bus on the road, ya all!
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Follow-Up on the Missouri Facebook Law: Public Pressure and New Technology
First, let me say how much I love our public officials standing up for something that's in the best interest of our country's youth (so it was billed), then back-pedaling after stiff public outcry. Gives me hope for our future and the future of history advocacy in this country (that was sarcasm, if you didn't catch it). On August 26, 2011 (4 days after I posted about the implications of Missouri's new Facebook law for history teachers and archives), a Missouri circuit court judge blocked the new legislation, referring to the law's implications on free speech in this country. A little later in the day, Missouri Governor Jay Nixon called for a repeal of the measure he just signed into law. His reason for the repeal was not about new ways to protect youth from predator educators. Governor Nixon offered this reason for his one-month reversal on his earlier stance, according to the Associated Press: he did so because the new law was "'causing substantial confusion and concern among teachers, students and families' and thus should be stricken." Enough said there. He does go onto say this, though for the life of me I don't know why this wasn't realized before he signed the law: "'In a digital world, we must recognize that social media can be an important tool for teaching and learning,' said Nixon, a Democrat."
The AP article goes onto site several teacher's association advocates concerning the backlash against the law from around the world: "'One third-grade teacher, for example, feared the law could prevent her class from communicating with one in Australia through a closed website. Others raised concerns about virtual classrooms in which students communicate with direct messages,' Fuller said. In its lawsuit, the teachers association said websites such as Facebook and Twitter have become a common part of modern interaction between teachers and students and argued that restricting them would violate the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution." Well, knowing that the Missouri government was not following my blog, I will say that for archives professionals--particularly young archivists such as myself--we have reached a dangerous crossroads for the distribution and sharing of historic records and archival information in a world of rights, protections, and privacy issues spread world-wide in seconds.
As archivists try to gain more following for their institution and thus promote their collections, archives in the U.S. are turning to social media, Youtube, and new technology such as QR codes to keep up with other popular socialization technology and advertising techniques. However, because of the rapid changes, young archivists face resistance from those whom have not embraced or do not understand the technological imperative of instantaneous interaction. An even bigger issue is the fact that these less-use to the new technologies are the most likely future and current donors of archival materials to archives and historical institutions. With attempts to make education about access and speed--rather than about quality necessarily and depth--the cultural divide encountered with the largest group of Americans these days, aged baby boomers (the same group that fought for freedom, youth, and access in the 1960s-1970s), has reached a crescendo. Facebook can be a negative and a positive, but as online education and state universities promote social media-styled communication systems for students (like Blackboard Learn environment being implemented across the country for online classes), the older generation will need to learn that the new technologies are not about young hipsters as much as it is about innovation and imagination.
Archives lack innovation. If you are an archivist, you may not like that. However, after attending a number of sessions at the Society of American Archivists 2011 Annual Meeting in Chicago this past week, I was told in sessions by older archivists that they had the younger students and student-workers do more of the social media posts and help develop the implementation of the new social media programs for archives in this country. When I asked if they had a "Liking" or "Reposting" policy like an archives collections policies, I was misunderstood to have implied that use of social media make it necessary for archives to change their collections policies. What I was asking--and many younger people would have understood this--was "Have you created policies on who you're going to like, the type of posts or content of which you will tag or follow, etc., for Facebook and Twitter?" Yeah, archives are innovative, though it took a year for some of these archivists to figure out how to use photo options in the new social media posts! If archives were innovative, archival usage would be more by younger people than by post-45 year olds and retired individuals with history hobbies or fascination with family genealogy. Now, there's nothing wrong with these things, but my point is that the younger peoples of America are going where they can first be entertained, then next where they can be captivated by innovative devices and technologies. With legislation such as that issued by the Missouri government last month (though it will be eliminated), there is a clear cultural gap being issued that states to youth that innovation is second to the law. Young archivists are feeling the same thing, as they may be looking and preserving a never-before-seen 1936 film by an American tourist on Nazi Germany that they cannot make public because of the issues of copyright. Innovation is recognized and protected under the law, if it produces a financially beneficial or unique artistic/intellectual expression. These same types of innovative expressions by archivists and archives created with the intent of promoting others' unique expressions and making them available for the public is not recognized, except under the definition of "fair-use," which is no real guarantee from legal damages.
Innovation is demanded in the world we live in, yet as long as "what we have always been use to" sentiments and passive dismissals of current trends in technology will make it difficult for young archivists who regularly walk around texting and geocaching with cell phones and GPS locators to connect with their employers, institutional supporters, and major segment of their current constituency. The Missouri Facebook law could have destroyed several years of in-roads Missouri archives and historical organizations had made into the world of social media in reaching school youth with history. Young archivists need to recognize these divides, remain within themselves, do not let frustration undo their better judgment, and seek ways to adhere to institutional policies while making their institution relevant to the younger half of America. I hear all the time that it is hard to get young people interested in working in archives or using archives. But, how many of you more established archivists have gone into your institution at age 15 trying to research the history of Alfred Russell Wallace (co-founder of concept of natural selection) in letters from an American scientist of the mid-1800s? Do you honestly think those young people would be shown more attention over a regular who donates a lot of time and materials to the archives? Usually, the young person feels the vibe that their project is nice and good for experience, but since they are only 15 their work is not going to be important enough to take up a large amount of time helping to locate materials when a donation of 150 boxes of material is coming in to the archives. How do I know? I was that youth. And now, I hold two degrees before the age of 25, have published a book, written five histories or collections of historical materials on subjects, and am seeking a job in your field--a professional archivist. As to the difficulty in attracting young people, it's not difficult if you treat them like people and that you want them there--I've worked with youth for a number of years. You have to care about them, their interests, their needs, and help spark that interest in new ways. Like a "Field of Dreams" thing, if you prepare for and treat them right, they will come.
The Missouri law reversal is great, but the change has come too little too late. Teachers will think twice about doing historical projects and using archival materials through social media (at least for the next couple of years), and the students and archives will be the ones to suffer. Let us not forget to temper wisdom and experience with passion and innovation, led by a desire for truth, understanding, and helping others.
Resource
DAVID A. LIEB, "Mo. judge blocks Facebook limits for teachers," http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gF Dwnn4mQWqI6_MZOSVw5s95vBA?docId=ca563c70bb824739ad919b85899dafef
The AP article goes onto site several teacher's association advocates concerning the backlash against the law from around the world: "'One third-grade teacher, for example, feared the law could prevent her class from communicating with one in Australia through a closed website. Others raised concerns about virtual classrooms in which students communicate with direct messages,' Fuller said. In its lawsuit, the teachers association said websites such as Facebook and Twitter have become a common part of modern interaction between teachers and students and argued that restricting them would violate the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution." Well, knowing that the Missouri government was not following my blog, I will say that for archives professionals--particularly young archivists such as myself--we have reached a dangerous crossroads for the distribution and sharing of historic records and archival information in a world of rights, protections, and privacy issues spread world-wide in seconds.
As archivists try to gain more following for their institution and thus promote their collections, archives in the U.S. are turning to social media, Youtube, and new technology such as QR codes to keep up with other popular socialization technology and advertising techniques. However, because of the rapid changes, young archivists face resistance from those whom have not embraced or do not understand the technological imperative of instantaneous interaction. An even bigger issue is the fact that these less-use to the new technologies are the most likely future and current donors of archival materials to archives and historical institutions. With attempts to make education about access and speed--rather than about quality necessarily and depth--the cultural divide encountered with the largest group of Americans these days, aged baby boomers (the same group that fought for freedom, youth, and access in the 1960s-1970s), has reached a crescendo. Facebook can be a negative and a positive, but as online education and state universities promote social media-styled communication systems for students (like Blackboard Learn environment being implemented across the country for online classes), the older generation will need to learn that the new technologies are not about young hipsters as much as it is about innovation and imagination.
Archives lack innovation. If you are an archivist, you may not like that. However, after attending a number of sessions at the Society of American Archivists 2011 Annual Meeting in Chicago this past week, I was told in sessions by older archivists that they had the younger students and student-workers do more of the social media posts and help develop the implementation of the new social media programs for archives in this country. When I asked if they had a "Liking" or "Reposting" policy like an archives collections policies, I was misunderstood to have implied that use of social media make it necessary for archives to change their collections policies. What I was asking--and many younger people would have understood this--was "Have you created policies on who you're going to like, the type of posts or content of which you will tag or follow, etc., for Facebook and Twitter?" Yeah, archives are innovative, though it took a year for some of these archivists to figure out how to use photo options in the new social media posts! If archives were innovative, archival usage would be more by younger people than by post-45 year olds and retired individuals with history hobbies or fascination with family genealogy. Now, there's nothing wrong with these things, but my point is that the younger peoples of America are going where they can first be entertained, then next where they can be captivated by innovative devices and technologies. With legislation such as that issued by the Missouri government last month (though it will be eliminated), there is a clear cultural gap being issued that states to youth that innovation is second to the law. Young archivists are feeling the same thing, as they may be looking and preserving a never-before-seen 1936 film by an American tourist on Nazi Germany that they cannot make public because of the issues of copyright. Innovation is recognized and protected under the law, if it produces a financially beneficial or unique artistic/intellectual expression. These same types of innovative expressions by archivists and archives created with the intent of promoting others' unique expressions and making them available for the public is not recognized, except under the definition of "fair-use," which is no real guarantee from legal damages.
Innovation is demanded in the world we live in, yet as long as "what we have always been use to" sentiments and passive dismissals of current trends in technology will make it difficult for young archivists who regularly walk around texting and geocaching with cell phones and GPS locators to connect with their employers, institutional supporters, and major segment of their current constituency. The Missouri Facebook law could have destroyed several years of in-roads Missouri archives and historical organizations had made into the world of social media in reaching school youth with history. Young archivists need to recognize these divides, remain within themselves, do not let frustration undo their better judgment, and seek ways to adhere to institutional policies while making their institution relevant to the younger half of America. I hear all the time that it is hard to get young people interested in working in archives or using archives. But, how many of you more established archivists have gone into your institution at age 15 trying to research the history of Alfred Russell Wallace (co-founder of concept of natural selection) in letters from an American scientist of the mid-1800s? Do you honestly think those young people would be shown more attention over a regular who donates a lot of time and materials to the archives? Usually, the young person feels the vibe that their project is nice and good for experience, but since they are only 15 their work is not going to be important enough to take up a large amount of time helping to locate materials when a donation of 150 boxes of material is coming in to the archives. How do I know? I was that youth. And now, I hold two degrees before the age of 25, have published a book, written five histories or collections of historical materials on subjects, and am seeking a job in your field--a professional archivist. As to the difficulty in attracting young people, it's not difficult if you treat them like people and that you want them there--I've worked with youth for a number of years. You have to care about them, their interests, their needs, and help spark that interest in new ways. Like a "Field of Dreams" thing, if you prepare for and treat them right, they will come.
The Missouri law reversal is great, but the change has come too little too late. Teachers will think twice about doing historical projects and using archival materials through social media (at least for the next couple of years), and the students and archives will be the ones to suffer. Let us not forget to temper wisdom and experience with passion and innovation, led by a desire for truth, understanding, and helping others.
Resource
DAVID A. LIEB, "Mo. judge blocks Facebook limits for teachers," http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gF Dwnn4mQWqI6_MZOSVw5s95vBA?docId=ca563c70bb824739ad919b85899dafef
Monday, August 22, 2011
The End of History, Education and Facebook: No More Facebook in the Classroom with Archival Sources
August 28, 2011, will mark a drastic redefinition of the rights of government intervention with social networking websites, and at the same time kill the developments in the U.S. since 2006 with the integration of archives, school teachers, and school classes. The state of Missouri has passed a law--State Senate Bill 54, or Amy Hestir Student Protection Act--reacting to the results of a decades-old case involving a teacher molesting a student. This law has a section reported on msnbc.msn.com by Suzanne Choney that will keep public school teachers from having students as friends on social networking sites such as Facebook, or even having contact with them after they go onto college technically:"Section 162.069 is a mandate that references social networking sites, as well as teachers not being allowed to have a 'nonwork-related website that allows exclusive access with a current or former student.'"
How this affects archives is best illustrated from an experience I had as a graduate assistant in my first stint as a graduate student. As a history department GA, I worked one quarter grading projects for students in a state history class that was mandatory for education majors at my institution. One of the projects discussed, experimented with, and ultimately chosen by a couple of students was the use of Facebook to create profiles for historic characters, using photos, letters, diaries, and other records from archives to make the people seem alive, allowing students in high school history classes to "Friend" people who haven't been alive for 150 years while making their lives relevant to the modern age. A lot of education programs have begun emphasizing this in recent years, as an outreach to students and an inventive way to use social media. Now, before you say "students shouldn't be encouraged to use Facebook before age 16" or the like, I was just in a library today and saw three 9-year olds shooting a promo video on a digital video camera for a class project--9! No doubt this project would get posted on some class websites, or the library's webpage. Younger and younger students are interacting on social network sites--for good or bad. Back to the Missouri law.
The students' projects I graded were tremendous and imaginative uses of historical primary sources, capable of drawing youth into archives to learn more about this person in the profile. However, Missouri seems to have believed the same was true for sexual predators masquerading as teachers on Facebook and other social networks. Let me just say: I am not saying teachers should be contacting students on Facebook pre-college in a "friendship" status. I understand the risks involved, and have personally been involved helping a number of teenage girls recover from physical abuses given them by teachers. I understand the importance of this legislation. At the same time, our society--or at least our government--seems to be taking a radically different approach to the field of Facebooking and the government. Government agencies have gone on Facebook, posted current news and other things intended for audiences of all ages, begun not blocking Facebook on government agency computers (as happened frequently prior to 2009). Having worked for two state agencies and a county government agency in the past three years, I have seen this radical shift of acceptance and full-blown exploitation of the possibilities of Facebook and other social networking sites for government-based initiatives.
Now, however, at least in Missouri, school programs emphasizing the use of Facebook as a medium to engage students with history and primary archival records will no longer be a possibility, and programs developed over the past few years will have to be scrapped. It seems that history and education are being left out in portions of the digital community, in favor of absolute protection of youth from any possible connection with non-family adults. While this is understood, again, it is a far cry from the world of 50-60 years ago, when neighborhood adults were often trusted family friends, when kids were encouraged to listen to the old war stories of veterans in the neighborhood and the parents loved their learning history first-hand, and the innocence of socialization for education benefit.
With the Missouri law, archives and pre-collegiate educators will have to find new ways to use online technologies and websites to reach out to an ever-growing base of youth who do not go outside of their houses to learn new information. Virtual exhibits, virtual recreations of long-lost civilizations and cities, and Youtube-ed historical documentaries are making history and the use of primary records available everywhere. On August 28, the "unlimited" capabilities of social networking's uses to promote history and archives in the classroom will begin to take a step back in deference for the public protection imperative. The past five years has seen such a dramatic shift in the use of social medial sites by government agencies for public programs that the advisability of continuing to use the type of integrated personal use/public use setup of Facebook to promote historical records and organizations may need to be rethought to meet the developing social theories inherent in new legal precedents. Programs and policies such as those suggested by the National Archives for establishing a school archival repository and making use of new technologies to promote the historic materials online (while gaining student involvement in the process) will not be possible in a social-network model as promoted by education training programs in colleges and universities around the country.
How this affects archives is best illustrated from an experience I had as a graduate assistant in my first stint as a graduate student. As a history department GA, I worked one quarter grading projects for students in a state history class that was mandatory for education majors at my institution. One of the projects discussed, experimented with, and ultimately chosen by a couple of students was the use of Facebook to create profiles for historic characters, using photos, letters, diaries, and other records from archives to make the people seem alive, allowing students in high school history classes to "Friend" people who haven't been alive for 150 years while making their lives relevant to the modern age. A lot of education programs have begun emphasizing this in recent years, as an outreach to students and an inventive way to use social media. Now, before you say "students shouldn't be encouraged to use Facebook before age 16" or the like, I was just in a library today and saw three 9-year olds shooting a promo video on a digital video camera for a class project--9! No doubt this project would get posted on some class websites, or the library's webpage. Younger and younger students are interacting on social network sites--for good or bad. Back to the Missouri law.
The students' projects I graded were tremendous and imaginative uses of historical primary sources, capable of drawing youth into archives to learn more about this person in the profile. However, Missouri seems to have believed the same was true for sexual predators masquerading as teachers on Facebook and other social networks. Let me just say: I am not saying teachers should be contacting students on Facebook pre-college in a "friendship" status. I understand the risks involved, and have personally been involved helping a number of teenage girls recover from physical abuses given them by teachers. I understand the importance of this legislation. At the same time, our society--or at least our government--seems to be taking a radically different approach to the field of Facebooking and the government. Government agencies have gone on Facebook, posted current news and other things intended for audiences of all ages, begun not blocking Facebook on government agency computers (as happened frequently prior to 2009). Having worked for two state agencies and a county government agency in the past three years, I have seen this radical shift of acceptance and full-blown exploitation of the possibilities of Facebook and other social networking sites for government-based initiatives.
Now, however, at least in Missouri, school programs emphasizing the use of Facebook as a medium to engage students with history and primary archival records will no longer be a possibility, and programs developed over the past few years will have to be scrapped. It seems that history and education are being left out in portions of the digital community, in favor of absolute protection of youth from any possible connection with non-family adults. While this is understood, again, it is a far cry from the world of 50-60 years ago, when neighborhood adults were often trusted family friends, when kids were encouraged to listen to the old war stories of veterans in the neighborhood and the parents loved their learning history first-hand, and the innocence of socialization for education benefit.
With the Missouri law, archives and pre-collegiate educators will have to find new ways to use online technologies and websites to reach out to an ever-growing base of youth who do not go outside of their houses to learn new information. Virtual exhibits, virtual recreations of long-lost civilizations and cities, and Youtube-ed historical documentaries are making history and the use of primary records available everywhere. On August 28, the "unlimited" capabilities of social networking's uses to promote history and archives in the classroom will begin to take a step back in deference for the public protection imperative. The past five years has seen such a dramatic shift in the use of social medial sites by government agencies for public programs that the advisability of continuing to use the type of integrated personal use/public use setup of Facebook to promote historical records and organizations may need to be rethought to meet the developing social theories inherent in new legal precedents. Programs and policies such as those suggested by the National Archives for establishing a school archival repository and making use of new technologies to promote the historic materials online (while gaining student involvement in the process) will not be possible in a social-network model as promoted by education training programs in colleges and universities around the country.
Monday, August 15, 2011
3-D Virtual Historic Photographic Environments: Website Review of WhatWasThere.com
This post will be a mix website review/investigation into a new digital and web-based software application: WhatWasThere.com. WhatWasThere (for the remainder of this post called WWT) attempts to “aiming to become ‘the Google of historic photos.’” The idea for the website was developed between December 2009 and mid 2010 by Ann Arbor, Michigan-based digital marketing and software development firm Enlighten, part of a corporation called Enlighten Ventures. Their CEO is Steve Glauberman, and his express reason for the website, is “‘Our goal, quite simply, is to be the largest database of geographically tagged photographs in the world.’” In essence, the website takes a software application (which is downloadable on the Apple iPhone, as well) that overlays historic photos on Google Maps’ Streetview option, orienting the photographs to match up on angle and perspective. The potential for the software is phenomenal, and it’s a shame that a history-based organization or archives has not done this on a wide-scale stage. This software was initial developed as a side project of several techies at the company, rather than being a main-line development from the company. As such over the past year and a half of its operation, it has yet to develop its full potential, and few archives and libraries know that the service is free and open to anyone—with the company’s CEO particularly looking for libraries to use its service.
While the site is tremendous, there are some major downfalls. Additionally, the end of this post will discuss what technology I believe needs to be developed based on the idea of WWT. The WWT site uses the angles of photos that Google took for its Streetview maps, which limits the use of the software—the historic photos need to be an almost dead-on match to the angle of the Google shot to match-up. How many 1920s photographers thought, “I should really take this photo from the middle of the street so Google can us this photo in 90 years.” If any did, I’m going to faint! Also, there are very few American cities represented on the WWT website so far, mainly since the site relies on user uploads. The site only represents a few major U.S. cities, and does not take advantage of the tremendous opportunity of smaller communities with historic districts to see what the entire town once looked like—which could be a boon for many depressed, once-great communities in restoring community pride. The impact of the visual tracing of history in a 3-D manner, as this software could provide, would help reach constituencies with an interest in history often unable to be reached by the historical community. Grandparents and grandkids could sit around a computer as the grandkids upload to the WWT site the grandparents photos, and they can see how things have changed together in an instant over decades of history and change.
The WWT site is not being promoted very well right now. There are no specs on the site’s server storage capacity, which is important if Glauberman hopes the site to become a world-wide depository of historic photographs. The software app is being utilized to promote the company’s website development options, rather than the preservation of history—though that is a side effect of the software. Another weakness is the reliance on Google for the 3-D map. Obviously, no one else has done a 3-D road map like Google has, and past attempts by historical organizations to create 3-D photographic exhibits of changes in cities or historic sites has failed to develop the excitement that people have when going to Google Maps to see historic downtowns miles away without leaving their living room. While Enlighten’s development is noble, there is much, much more that can be done with the software than is now being considered.
What I would like to see be developed along similar lines as WWT is a virtual 3-D historic landscape, that utilizes historic photographs from numerous people and repositories to create a landscape of any community over time, that can be viewed next to the present-day landscape. Right now, WWT has one photo in one spot that you have to click on to see it in place over the Google Streetview screen. I want to see someone develop a seamless side-by-side 3-D view of Google Streetview with historic photos stitched together and placed adjacent the Google Streetview pane, allowing a side-by-side comparison of the present with the past. The U.S. Department of Defense utilizes stitching software to join reconnaissance photos together to give an as uninterrupted view of suspected terrorist training camps and other targets as possible. This same software could be used with historic photographs. And, unlike WWT—where one photo at a time from one historic period can be viewed on the Googe Streetview—I would like to see virtual historical environments created for different decades or years, similar to the environments viewed in such online virtual environments as Second Life. Imagine having four sets of historic period landscapes—1860s, 1890s, 1920s, 1940s—of a small town, able to be pulled up adjacent a Google Streetview pane on your webrowser! Imagine families scanning their photographs on holidays together, then putting them on this 3-D world, as other families are doing the same thing at the same time (it could become the photographic version of Ancetry.com’s genealogy forums and family trees). Efforts to create 3-D environments of historic sites and features are underway in Europe, though they use physical--not photograph--environments to work with:
3D CITY MODELLING AND VISUALIZATION OF HISTORICAL CENTERS by Jose Luis Lerma and Antonio Garcia of Valencia Polytechnic University in Spain. While all this sounds great, there are two obstructions to this grand idea.
First, the issue of copyright. It is like pulling teeth for historic organizations and archives to put their historic photos online, mainly due to copyright issues (plus the issues of unauthorized use for publications and the time necessary to scan and describe photographs). The greatest reason why more historic photographs and films are not available for research or use by the public is the issue of copyright and restrictions by copyright owners. The U.S. Copyright laws have not caught up with the 21st-century, and even if they did they still would not be kind to historians and archivists. Because of the nature of historic materials—and in particular photos—the legal liabilities from publishing or distributing online photographs of individuals not contacted for their permission to use the photos (and copyright law says that everyone in a photograph has to have their permission given before the photos are published--technically speaking, of course, since that never happens in reality) is more costly than are the cultural losses of not having the photographs for use (at least according to the U.S. government). This is a travesty, and is the reason why this nation’s historic images are fading away to time and the elements.
Second, how would all these photographs be stored, and who would own the rights to them? What organization can assure the continued storage capacity needed to manage billions of historic photographs each 4-12 megabytes? And what rights would the users uploading the photographs have versus the rights of the company providing the storage space? Ultimately, the issue of rights may hinder such a grand software program from being developed within the next 10 years. But, as WWT’s early effort has shown, such a software could be possible.
Resources
Nathan Bomey, “Ann Arbor software firm Enlighten wants new site to become 'Google of historic photographs,'” March 18, 2011, at http://www.annarbor.com/business-review/ann-arbor-software-firm-enlighten-wants-new-site-to-become-google-of-historic-photographs/.
WhatWasThere website, at http://www.whatwasthere.com/.
While the site is tremendous, there are some major downfalls. Additionally, the end of this post will discuss what technology I believe needs to be developed based on the idea of WWT. The WWT site uses the angles of photos that Google took for its Streetview maps, which limits the use of the software—the historic photos need to be an almost dead-on match to the angle of the Google shot to match-up. How many 1920s photographers thought, “I should really take this photo from the middle of the street so Google can us this photo in 90 years.” If any did, I’m going to faint! Also, there are very few American cities represented on the WWT website so far, mainly since the site relies on user uploads. The site only represents a few major U.S. cities, and does not take advantage of the tremendous opportunity of smaller communities with historic districts to see what the entire town once looked like—which could be a boon for many depressed, once-great communities in restoring community pride. The impact of the visual tracing of history in a 3-D manner, as this software could provide, would help reach constituencies with an interest in history often unable to be reached by the historical community. Grandparents and grandkids could sit around a computer as the grandkids upload to the WWT site the grandparents photos, and they can see how things have changed together in an instant over decades of history and change.
The WWT site is not being promoted very well right now. There are no specs on the site’s server storage capacity, which is important if Glauberman hopes the site to become a world-wide depository of historic photographs. The software app is being utilized to promote the company’s website development options, rather than the preservation of history—though that is a side effect of the software. Another weakness is the reliance on Google for the 3-D map. Obviously, no one else has done a 3-D road map like Google has, and past attempts by historical organizations to create 3-D photographic exhibits of changes in cities or historic sites has failed to develop the excitement that people have when going to Google Maps to see historic downtowns miles away without leaving their living room. While Enlighten’s development is noble, there is much, much more that can be done with the software than is now being considered.
What I would like to see be developed along similar lines as WWT is a virtual 3-D historic landscape, that utilizes historic photographs from numerous people and repositories to create a landscape of any community over time, that can be viewed next to the present-day landscape. Right now, WWT has one photo in one spot that you have to click on to see it in place over the Google Streetview screen. I want to see someone develop a seamless side-by-side 3-D view of Google Streetview with historic photos stitched together and placed adjacent the Google Streetview pane, allowing a side-by-side comparison of the present with the past. The U.S. Department of Defense utilizes stitching software to join reconnaissance photos together to give an as uninterrupted view of suspected terrorist training camps and other targets as possible. This same software could be used with historic photographs. And, unlike WWT—where one photo at a time from one historic period can be viewed on the Googe Streetview—I would like to see virtual historical environments created for different decades or years, similar to the environments viewed in such online virtual environments as Second Life. Imagine having four sets of historic period landscapes—1860s, 1890s, 1920s, 1940s—of a small town, able to be pulled up adjacent a Google Streetview pane on your webrowser! Imagine families scanning their photographs on holidays together, then putting them on this 3-D world, as other families are doing the same thing at the same time (it could become the photographic version of Ancetry.com’s genealogy forums and family trees). Efforts to create 3-D environments of historic sites and features are underway in Europe, though they use physical--not photograph--environments to work with:
3D CITY MODELLING AND VISUALIZATION OF HISTORICAL CENTERS by Jose Luis Lerma and Antonio Garcia of Valencia Polytechnic University in Spain. While all this sounds great, there are two obstructions to this grand idea.
First, the issue of copyright. It is like pulling teeth for historic organizations and archives to put their historic photos online, mainly due to copyright issues (plus the issues of unauthorized use for publications and the time necessary to scan and describe photographs). The greatest reason why more historic photographs and films are not available for research or use by the public is the issue of copyright and restrictions by copyright owners. The U.S. Copyright laws have not caught up with the 21st-century, and even if they did they still would not be kind to historians and archivists. Because of the nature of historic materials—and in particular photos—the legal liabilities from publishing or distributing online photographs of individuals not contacted for their permission to use the photos (and copyright law says that everyone in a photograph has to have their permission given before the photos are published--technically speaking, of course, since that never happens in reality) is more costly than are the cultural losses of not having the photographs for use (at least according to the U.S. government). This is a travesty, and is the reason why this nation’s historic images are fading away to time and the elements.
Second, how would all these photographs be stored, and who would own the rights to them? What organization can assure the continued storage capacity needed to manage billions of historic photographs each 4-12 megabytes? And what rights would the users uploading the photographs have versus the rights of the company providing the storage space? Ultimately, the issue of rights may hinder such a grand software program from being developed within the next 10 years. But, as WWT’s early effort has shown, such a software could be possible.
Resources
Nathan Bomey, “Ann Arbor software firm Enlighten wants new site to become 'Google of historic photographs,'” March 18, 2011, at http://www.annarbor.com/business-review/ann-arbor-software-firm-enlighten-wants-new-site-to-become-google-of-historic-photographs/.
WhatWasThere website, at http://www.whatwasthere.com/.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Archival Reference in the 21st-Century: A Degree of Age?
Lately, I've had the privilege for a summer position to research in two states for various archival materials in support of a project I was hired to complete by a major state historical organization. I've been to 10 archival institutions in person, and contacted 10 more via email. The responses I've gotten have been quite interesting. The best reference services I have gotten thus far have been from archival professionals under the age of 40. Most of those I have encountered older than that have approached me with a degree of pedantic instruction in the finer rules of reading room policies (I'm sorry, I get it: pencils only, no notebooks, a couple items at a time, and copy request forms--thanks, that's very high-security). Now, please don't misunderstand: I'm not knocking the policies. As an archivist with the degree to prove it, I understand why the policies are in place. Still, is this all that reference service seems to have become in archives today, along with pointing people to access all the material online first before they come to the institution for help?
I have noticed that despite proper notification of my research interests, provision in most cases or items and collections I would like to research in, and a badge that gives me some credence, youth is still looked down upon by the elder in the archival fraternity. Not only that, I've had the privilege of being scolded in person a few times for not understanding archival procedure (again, the degree and work experience did not seem to matter at all). I've gone on to state that I've used their collections before and have studied their system online before coming, and I came to speak with them because so much of their records either do not have finding aids or are cataloged in an archives personnel-only system. I do not need to be lectured on timing and communication when the archives never responded to me. This type of reaction from archives does not create effective research environments for outsiders, and even as an "insider" to a degree delays for assistance, poor professional attitudes, and inabilities to find vital records for important research get frustrating. Again, the noticeable difference in this regard had to do with the age of and the approach by the archivists.
At one institution I visited last week, an older, more established archivist proceeded to approach me like a 5 year old whose never read before in his life. After describing what I wanted, he was somewhat dumbfounded as to where, if at all, they might have anything. After a reference desk shift change, the helpful mid-30s archivist and I talked for a bit, and I asked if she knew of anything related to what I was looking for. She came out 5 minutes later with a minutes book that was very helpful for providing context for an aspect of my research. You might say that the other archivist didn't know it was there--but she mentioned it was a well-known archival resource the archives held. Okay, maybe an anomaly.
At one of the most important archives in the state I'm conducting research in, the most helpful person was a 21-year older summer student worker, who in-between helping me was texting on his phone and watching the Women's World Cup online. Now, the older readers of this blog might roll their eyes and say "That's the problem with the younger people in archives." Not only did this younger archives employee who had been at the institution for three years help me far more than the supervisory archivist, whose only response when I arrived was an apology for not responded to me and "you should come back next week when our reference archivist is back from vacation," this young man took a digitization order from me, pulled 4 carts of archival materials, looked up throughout the entire library's system for records that were in another department, and generally was interested in helping me. Not only was he helpful to me--a person with a credential for another history institution--but he was the same way with everyone who came through the door: school groups, old ladies doing genealogy, and fellow student employees.
In Ohio while researching, I had two different series of archival reference staff at one institution over two days assist me with copies and records requests. Half were over 35 and the other half were between 22 and 32 (I happened to know one of the people). It was interesting that the younger people were much more helpful and pleasant--with a less pedantic approach--than the other reference staff. Like with the previous institution I mentioned, this pattern carried with everyone else who came to the reference desk (so my being a younger person did not have much to do with the better treatment). So what is it that is a major difference in relation to the reference experience in archives with regards to the staffs' ages?
Having known a number of student workers in archives (and been one myself), a great deal of it has to do with personality. Equally, though, younger students and young archivists are still eager to become the "best archivist they can be," and have not become completely worn down by large numbers of reference requests, the great rolling multitude that are genealogists, and institutional politics/lack of resources that seem to wear down a number of more established archivists I've encountered. Again, this is all opinion based on my experiences--limited as they have been--and they bear no psychological studies (though a member of my family is licensed as a counselor) or "empirical data" to confirm such assertions. But my feeling is that many of you younger archivists who read this blog have felt the same at times. The old Biblical proverb of "not letting anyone look down on you because of your age" (paraphrase) should be applied here. Youth brings vigor and inexperience, though it does bring energy and endurance oftentimes. Most archives demand experience and management--two things many young archivists lack.
However, most young archivists begin as reference archivists, learning under the wings of an older, more established archivist. Unfortunately, I've had the "pleasure" of listening to many patrons (somehow people think I'm invisible) complain about the unhelpful older professionals, while complimenting the younger archivists. Obviously, this can go both ways, but there is something to be said for exposing the public at your institution to a newer, fresher, less weary face to bring out all those census microfilm records. Still, I cannot help but wonder where this sense of superiority has sneaked into the archival community. When many of us got into this field, it was because we loved historic records and the power they had: from providing a family with their ancestral identity, to opening a new field of study in historical scholarship, to giving better appreciation for the sacrifice of our military veterans. Archives and archival preservation was a continuation of the ancient tribal storyteller, who preserved community memory.
Now it seems, that goal, that mission, has become enveloped in policies, politics, and financial restrictions that tend to show themselves on the faces and in the behaviors of archivists the longer they remain in the field. This is not to say that every archivist over the age of 40 is mean and unhelpful--if that were the case, I'd never have gotten into this profession. Still, younger archivists and students see this mentality often, and wonder one thing: will that happen to me? I had the pleasure last week to talk with a former head of a state historical society, as well as a college archivist who was at a major state historical society. They expressed that passion that drives young archivists and students to provide, on the whole, service-oriented archival reference assistance to the public. It's the opening of a letter no one has read in 200 years, the discovery of a Lincoln letter in a trunk in an attic while doing an archival survey on-site, it is the satisfaction one feels when seeing a woman with cancer cry and hug you because you cared enough about her family's history to work to preserve it and make it available for others. It is the drama, the amazement, and the excitement, that makes reference services good in archival institutions. I tend to think these attributes more common (or less worn down) in the young than the older, and I believe that the more older archivists encourage this in students and new archivists who provide reference services, the better overall the research experience will be in archival institutions around the country for the public--particularly as we are in the U.S. in an explosion in the interest in and enrollment in archival studies.
Reference in an archives demands two major things: 1) a willingness to keep looking and not give up because you think you know where everything is for a request or records search (i.e. tenacity and stick-to-it-ness), and 2) humility (because we all ask people at various "help desks" and information centers dumb questions too!). References services for the 21st century of the digital age will be less reliant on technological prowess as much as personability, attitude, approach, and being service-oriented. With the inundation of technology and impersonal methods of communication, archives offer a touch of in-person care as mediums between the researcher and the people long-past whose records they are request. We are cross-time socializers, if you will, and the enthusiasm I see in many younger archivists is the key in this period of impersonalism and automated services.
I have noticed that despite proper notification of my research interests, provision in most cases or items and collections I would like to research in, and a badge that gives me some credence, youth is still looked down upon by the elder in the archival fraternity. Not only that, I've had the privilege of being scolded in person a few times for not understanding archival procedure (again, the degree and work experience did not seem to matter at all). I've gone on to state that I've used their collections before and have studied their system online before coming, and I came to speak with them because so much of their records either do not have finding aids or are cataloged in an archives personnel-only system. I do not need to be lectured on timing and communication when the archives never responded to me. This type of reaction from archives does not create effective research environments for outsiders, and even as an "insider" to a degree delays for assistance, poor professional attitudes, and inabilities to find vital records for important research get frustrating. Again, the noticeable difference in this regard had to do with the age of and the approach by the archivists.
At one institution I visited last week, an older, more established archivist proceeded to approach me like a 5 year old whose never read before in his life. After describing what I wanted, he was somewhat dumbfounded as to where, if at all, they might have anything. After a reference desk shift change, the helpful mid-30s archivist and I talked for a bit, and I asked if she knew of anything related to what I was looking for. She came out 5 minutes later with a minutes book that was very helpful for providing context for an aspect of my research. You might say that the other archivist didn't know it was there--but she mentioned it was a well-known archival resource the archives held. Okay, maybe an anomaly.
At one of the most important archives in the state I'm conducting research in, the most helpful person was a 21-year older summer student worker, who in-between helping me was texting on his phone and watching the Women's World Cup online. Now, the older readers of this blog might roll their eyes and say "That's the problem with the younger people in archives." Not only did this younger archives employee who had been at the institution for three years help me far more than the supervisory archivist, whose only response when I arrived was an apology for not responded to me and "you should come back next week when our reference archivist is back from vacation," this young man took a digitization order from me, pulled 4 carts of archival materials, looked up throughout the entire library's system for records that were in another department, and generally was interested in helping me. Not only was he helpful to me--a person with a credential for another history institution--but he was the same way with everyone who came through the door: school groups, old ladies doing genealogy, and fellow student employees.
In Ohio while researching, I had two different series of archival reference staff at one institution over two days assist me with copies and records requests. Half were over 35 and the other half were between 22 and 32 (I happened to know one of the people). It was interesting that the younger people were much more helpful and pleasant--with a less pedantic approach--than the other reference staff. Like with the previous institution I mentioned, this pattern carried with everyone else who came to the reference desk (so my being a younger person did not have much to do with the better treatment). So what is it that is a major difference in relation to the reference experience in archives with regards to the staffs' ages?
Having known a number of student workers in archives (and been one myself), a great deal of it has to do with personality. Equally, though, younger students and young archivists are still eager to become the "best archivist they can be," and have not become completely worn down by large numbers of reference requests, the great rolling multitude that are genealogists, and institutional politics/lack of resources that seem to wear down a number of more established archivists I've encountered. Again, this is all opinion based on my experiences--limited as they have been--and they bear no psychological studies (though a member of my family is licensed as a counselor) or "empirical data" to confirm such assertions. But my feeling is that many of you younger archivists who read this blog have felt the same at times. The old Biblical proverb of "not letting anyone look down on you because of your age" (paraphrase) should be applied here. Youth brings vigor and inexperience, though it does bring energy and endurance oftentimes. Most archives demand experience and management--two things many young archivists lack.
However, most young archivists begin as reference archivists, learning under the wings of an older, more established archivist. Unfortunately, I've had the "pleasure" of listening to many patrons (somehow people think I'm invisible) complain about the unhelpful older professionals, while complimenting the younger archivists. Obviously, this can go both ways, but there is something to be said for exposing the public at your institution to a newer, fresher, less weary face to bring out all those census microfilm records. Still, I cannot help but wonder where this sense of superiority has sneaked into the archival community. When many of us got into this field, it was because we loved historic records and the power they had: from providing a family with their ancestral identity, to opening a new field of study in historical scholarship, to giving better appreciation for the sacrifice of our military veterans. Archives and archival preservation was a continuation of the ancient tribal storyteller, who preserved community memory.
Now it seems, that goal, that mission, has become enveloped in policies, politics, and financial restrictions that tend to show themselves on the faces and in the behaviors of archivists the longer they remain in the field. This is not to say that every archivist over the age of 40 is mean and unhelpful--if that were the case, I'd never have gotten into this profession. Still, younger archivists and students see this mentality often, and wonder one thing: will that happen to me? I had the pleasure last week to talk with a former head of a state historical society, as well as a college archivist who was at a major state historical society. They expressed that passion that drives young archivists and students to provide, on the whole, service-oriented archival reference assistance to the public. It's the opening of a letter no one has read in 200 years, the discovery of a Lincoln letter in a trunk in an attic while doing an archival survey on-site, it is the satisfaction one feels when seeing a woman with cancer cry and hug you because you cared enough about her family's history to work to preserve it and make it available for others. It is the drama, the amazement, and the excitement, that makes reference services good in archival institutions. I tend to think these attributes more common (or less worn down) in the young than the older, and I believe that the more older archivists encourage this in students and new archivists who provide reference services, the better overall the research experience will be in archival institutions around the country for the public--particularly as we are in the U.S. in an explosion in the interest in and enrollment in archival studies.
Reference in an archives demands two major things: 1) a willingness to keep looking and not give up because you think you know where everything is for a request or records search (i.e. tenacity and stick-to-it-ness), and 2) humility (because we all ask people at various "help desks" and information centers dumb questions too!). References services for the 21st century of the digital age will be less reliant on technological prowess as much as personability, attitude, approach, and being service-oriented. With the inundation of technology and impersonal methods of communication, archives offer a touch of in-person care as mediums between the researcher and the people long-past whose records they are request. We are cross-time socializers, if you will, and the enthusiasm I see in many younger archivists is the key in this period of impersonalism and automated services.
Unbuffered vs. Buffered Paper, Plus a Rant on the Need for Chemical Understanding by Archival Professionals
Question
Under what conditions should either buffered paper or unbuffered paper materials be utilized by archives in the storage of archival materials?
Answer
Both types of paper will become acidic over time; it is merely a matter of how soon this acquired acidity develops. Unbuffered paper does not contain any alkaline buffer and has a pH at the time of the paper’s creation of 7 to 7.5. Buffered paper (paper containing an alkaline buffering agent to protect against the spread of acidic compounds) was developed to prolong the chemical stability of paper materials used in the storing of archival materials, by causing any migrating acids to become inert. The alkaline substances most often contained within buffered paper are calcium carbonate and magnesium carbonate, maintaining an approximate pH of 8.5. In order for buffered paper to stay “. . . acid-free for long periods of time (e.g., 500 years) should have approximately 3 percent precipitated carbonate by weight of paper.”
For many years, it was recommended for an archives to use unbuffered paper when there was uncertainty as to if buffered paper would have a damaging effect on archival materials. In recent years, this issue has come to be less as important as is the quality of the paper: if the paper becomes acidic quickly, it does not matter whether it is buffered or not. Buffered paper products are acceptable for use with most books, paper documents, cellulose nitrate and acetate negatives, artistic prints and drawings (except those with pastel and charcoal, or that have been tinted), black-and-white motion picture film, and plant-derived materials.
Personally, I rather the unbuffered, simply because it is better to have as few chemical additives as possible in contact with archival materials. Plus, we do not know yet if down the road buffering elements will be found to have an unaccounted-for effect on archival materials. Granted, the buffering agents are carbonates, but still, a number of archival preservation materials once believed safe have turned out over time to have actually caused damage to historic records. It is also important to note that as far as research into the chemical effects of materials on historic materials within an archival setting, little sustained scholarship or research has been conducted. Archivists need to build strong relationships with chemists in university settings, because there is more to archival preservation than Mylar sheets, Filmoplast mending tape, and book-spine repair.
I once-upon-a-time asked in college for a course on Chemical Interactions of Historical Materials for Archivists, but was thought this was too broad and unnecessary. One of an archivist's most basic responsibilities is to understand how a large variety of materials upon which historical information and records are recorded breaks down with time, in different storage conditions, and with contact to common household chemicals. I was fortunate to have had a total of two years between high school and college in chemistry, and had a major interest in minerals and magnetism growing up (all good things for understanding film and photo preservation). Yet, many of the average library science, public history, and archival studies programs fall short of offering this very important training. If you talk with many students about the differences between buffered and unbuffered papers, or the difference between silver halide cellulose nitrate film, few will be able to offer a coherent explanation of the differences. Even so, a number of fellow young archivists I've spoken with over the past three years have expressed enormous interest in taking a class as I suggested, or even taking conservation courses (though these are often emphasized for museum studies students and professionals). I find it ironic that as more records are being born digitially, archival educators advise students to take technology and computer courses.
Yet, when a 1785 map is disintegrating because of moisture damage, archivists pick up the phone most often to call first for finances to get the item "preserved and stabilized," then to have a conservator come in and charge a large fee to advise you on the best steps for the maps stabilization. After consulting with several conservators over the past few years, I've learned that many of the tasks conducted within archives by conservators could indeed be done by archivists (as I did with a set of historic railroad blueprints that I was told were "impossible to flatten and scan"), if a little effort, creativity, and research were conducted. Yes, archivists need to be tech smart, but science smart is equally--if not more so--a vital element of archival preservation. There's more to historic records than information: there's science.
If any of you have been following the news, you may have heard of the final rediscovery/acquisition of a famous, mostly unheard for decades collection of homemade jazz recordings by the pioneer of the 33 1/3 rpm record, William Savory (http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/a_trove_of_historic_jazz_recordings_has_found_a_home_in_harlem_but_you_cant/). The enormity of the records collection that has been stored for years is truly astounding. However, the records--some of which are recorded on various types of metal disks--are becoming unplayable. Obviously, the answer is digitization before the music is lost, but first of all, the records have to be cleaned and repaired where possible. In order to do this, the National Jazz Museum in Harlem has hired an old record industry pro who has extensive knowledge about the various materials used in the creation of various types of record discs/platters. He is slowly cleaning with specific materials each record, then seeing if it can be heard still or the music saved at all, and then it is digitized. I wonder how many young archivists today would have the chemical understanding to know the differences between all the different materials used in the creation of records. My grandfather records his own bluegrass albums in his basement, and I own some of them--I still can't tell you many of the chemical processes used in or the chemical deterioration of various types of records over time. Archivists, let us take steps to gain a base of knowledge on which to build, rather than trying to build the tower with plastic foundation bricks.
Resource for Further Study
“Storage Enclosures for Books and Artifacts on Paper.” Storage and Handling 4.4 leaflet. Northeast Document Conservation Center Preservation Leaflet series. Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nedcc.org/resources/leaflets/4Storage_and_Handling/
04StorageEnclosures.php.
The Northeast Document Conservation Center’s Preservation Leaflet series provides practical, professional information for the preservation of historic paper and photograph materials. Leaflet 4.4 deals with the chemical stability of and durability of paper and plastic storage materials used for preservation storage of historic materials. It is a very good, brief resource to explain the complicated issue of the acidity of paper materials.
Albright, Gary, and Monique Fischer. “Care of Photographs.” Photographs 5.3 leaflet. Northeast Document Conservation Center Preservation Leaflet series. Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nedcc.org/resources/leaflets/5Photographs/03CareOfPhotos.php.
The Northeast Document Conservation Center’s Preservation Leaflet series provides practical, professional information for the preservation of historic paper and photograph materials. Leaflet 5.3 addresses controlling of the storage conditions for historic photographs, which also includes the enclosures (either paper or plastic) used for their storage. The portion of this leaflet relevant to unbuffered and buffered paper materials comes in the description of the types of paper enclosures available for photographs.
“Buffered And Unbuffered Storage Materials.” Conserve O Gram (National Park Service) 4.9(July 1995). Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nps.gov/history/museum/publications/conserveogram/04-09.pdf.
This NPS newsletter article provides a brief but detailed summation of the unbuffered and buffered paper situation. The best part of this article is that it comes with a chart of archival materials (and columns for both unbuffered and buffered paper materials) for which of the two paper materials is best for storing archival items. However, this article is from 1995 and not as up-to-date as the information provided by Northeast Document Conservation Center.
Under what conditions should either buffered paper or unbuffered paper materials be utilized by archives in the storage of archival materials?
Answer
Both types of paper will become acidic over time; it is merely a matter of how soon this acquired acidity develops. Unbuffered paper does not contain any alkaline buffer and has a pH at the time of the paper’s creation of 7 to 7.5. Buffered paper (paper containing an alkaline buffering agent to protect against the spread of acidic compounds) was developed to prolong the chemical stability of paper materials used in the storing of archival materials, by causing any migrating acids to become inert. The alkaline substances most often contained within buffered paper are calcium carbonate and magnesium carbonate, maintaining an approximate pH of 8.5. In order for buffered paper to stay “. . . acid-free for long periods of time (e.g., 500 years) should have approximately 3 percent precipitated carbonate by weight of paper.”
For many years, it was recommended for an archives to use unbuffered paper when there was uncertainty as to if buffered paper would have a damaging effect on archival materials. In recent years, this issue has come to be less as important as is the quality of the paper: if the paper becomes acidic quickly, it does not matter whether it is buffered or not. Buffered paper products are acceptable for use with most books, paper documents, cellulose nitrate and acetate negatives, artistic prints and drawings (except those with pastel and charcoal, or that have been tinted), black-and-white motion picture film, and plant-derived materials.
Personally, I rather the unbuffered, simply because it is better to have as few chemical additives as possible in contact with archival materials. Plus, we do not know yet if down the road buffering elements will be found to have an unaccounted-for effect on archival materials. Granted, the buffering agents are carbonates, but still, a number of archival preservation materials once believed safe have turned out over time to have actually caused damage to historic records. It is also important to note that as far as research into the chemical effects of materials on historic materials within an archival setting, little sustained scholarship or research has been conducted. Archivists need to build strong relationships with chemists in university settings, because there is more to archival preservation than Mylar sheets, Filmoplast mending tape, and book-spine repair.
I once-upon-a-time asked in college for a course on Chemical Interactions of Historical Materials for Archivists, but was thought this was too broad and unnecessary. One of an archivist's most basic responsibilities is to understand how a large variety of materials upon which historical information and records are recorded breaks down with time, in different storage conditions, and with contact to common household chemicals. I was fortunate to have had a total of two years between high school and college in chemistry, and had a major interest in minerals and magnetism growing up (all good things for understanding film and photo preservation). Yet, many of the average library science, public history, and archival studies programs fall short of offering this very important training. If you talk with many students about the differences between buffered and unbuffered papers, or the difference between silver halide cellulose nitrate film, few will be able to offer a coherent explanation of the differences. Even so, a number of fellow young archivists I've spoken with over the past three years have expressed enormous interest in taking a class as I suggested, or even taking conservation courses (though these are often emphasized for museum studies students and professionals). I find it ironic that as more records are being born digitially, archival educators advise students to take technology and computer courses.
Yet, when a 1785 map is disintegrating because of moisture damage, archivists pick up the phone most often to call first for finances to get the item "preserved and stabilized," then to have a conservator come in and charge a large fee to advise you on the best steps for the maps stabilization. After consulting with several conservators over the past few years, I've learned that many of the tasks conducted within archives by conservators could indeed be done by archivists (as I did with a set of historic railroad blueprints that I was told were "impossible to flatten and scan"), if a little effort, creativity, and research were conducted. Yes, archivists need to be tech smart, but science smart is equally--if not more so--a vital element of archival preservation. There's more to historic records than information: there's science.
If any of you have been following the news, you may have heard of the final rediscovery/acquisition of a famous, mostly unheard for decades collection of homemade jazz recordings by the pioneer of the 33 1/3 rpm record, William Savory (http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/a_trove_of_historic_jazz_recordings_has_found_a_home_in_harlem_but_you_cant/). The enormity of the records collection that has been stored for years is truly astounding. However, the records--some of which are recorded on various types of metal disks--are becoming unplayable. Obviously, the answer is digitization before the music is lost, but first of all, the records have to be cleaned and repaired where possible. In order to do this, the National Jazz Museum in Harlem has hired an old record industry pro who has extensive knowledge about the various materials used in the creation of various types of record discs/platters. He is slowly cleaning with specific materials each record, then seeing if it can be heard still or the music saved at all, and then it is digitized. I wonder how many young archivists today would have the chemical understanding to know the differences between all the different materials used in the creation of records. My grandfather records his own bluegrass albums in his basement, and I own some of them--I still can't tell you many of the chemical processes used in or the chemical deterioration of various types of records over time. Archivists, let us take steps to gain a base of knowledge on which to build, rather than trying to build the tower with plastic foundation bricks.
Resource for Further Study
“Storage Enclosures for Books and Artifacts on Paper.” Storage and Handling 4.4 leaflet. Northeast Document Conservation Center Preservation Leaflet series. Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nedcc.org/resources/leaflets/4Storage_and_Handling/
04StorageEnclosures.php.
The Northeast Document Conservation Center’s Preservation Leaflet series provides practical, professional information for the preservation of historic paper and photograph materials. Leaflet 4.4 deals with the chemical stability of and durability of paper and plastic storage materials used for preservation storage of historic materials. It is a very good, brief resource to explain the complicated issue of the acidity of paper materials.
Albright, Gary, and Monique Fischer. “Care of Photographs.” Photographs 5.3 leaflet. Northeast Document Conservation Center Preservation Leaflet series. Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nedcc.org/resources/leaflets/5Photographs/03CareOfPhotos.php.
The Northeast Document Conservation Center’s Preservation Leaflet series provides practical, professional information for the preservation of historic paper and photograph materials. Leaflet 5.3 addresses controlling of the storage conditions for historic photographs, which also includes the enclosures (either paper or plastic) used for their storage. The portion of this leaflet relevant to unbuffered and buffered paper materials comes in the description of the types of paper enclosures available for photographs.
“Buffered And Unbuffered Storage Materials.” Conserve O Gram (National Park Service) 4.9(July 1995). Viewed on February 11, 2009, at http://www.nps.gov/history/museum/publications/conserveogram/04-09.pdf.
This NPS newsletter article provides a brief but detailed summation of the unbuffered and buffered paper situation. The best part of this article is that it comes with a chart of archival materials (and columns for both unbuffered and buffered paper materials) for which of the two paper materials is best for storing archival items. However, this article is from 1995 and not as up-to-date as the information provided by Northeast Document Conservation Center.
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