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!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
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.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Is Digitization the Answer for Preserving Paper-Based Library Materials?
The digital age has wrought a reliance on electronically-transmitted and formatted materials for use by the public. Digitization of records has come over the past twenty or so years to offer a means of reformatting deteriorating paper-based library materials, ensuring the information contained in the ink and paper is available for long-term access. Digitization offers several advantages for libraries in terms of preservation, providing access, and removing severely-deteriorated materials from library shelves in order to protect the library’s other materials. Since around the 1920s, microfilm offered such a solution for libraries, archives, and other cultural institution fighting the battle of the rot and ware of paper-based materials. However, microfilming requires a great deal of time, a lot of oversight during the whole process, can be costly, requires elaborate equipment, and often has to be outsourced to microfilming vendors. Most patrons of library do not enjoy the experience of utilizing microfilm, as eye fatigue and continually having to reload rolls of film on a viewer wear on a user’s patience.
Over the past twenty years especially, digitization has become one of the main answers for libraries and archives in creating use surrogates of original materials for public handling, in order to protect the original items and sustain the availability of the items in their original format for as long as possible. However, digitization carries many of its own problems, among which are long-term storage and maintenance of digital materials, complete substitution of the original materials for electronic copies, and the loss of information only available from the original format of the paper-based materials. The most important questions concerning digitization for libraries still have yet to find concrete solutions, while in the meantime libraries continue to digitize for short-term benefits initially. Is digitization the solution for the preservation of paper-based library materials? Is there a difference between “digitization for preservation” and “digital preservation”?
Books and other paper-based records carry with them uniqueness, as well as the record of the physical impact they have received from people and time. Library collections are increasingly focusing on digital collections and digital curation—with digitized paper-based records such as archival material fitting within this movement. However, the concept of “physical artifact” that is embodied within old books and manuscript collections imbues library preservation with the need to take steps to ensure the longevity of the original materials, through providing both a use copy of the fragile originals and sustaining the integrity of the original materials. In a January 2010 issue of The Library Quarterly, Paul Conway echoes this view in his study of the conversion to digitization within libraries and archives, recommending that libraries:
"Continue to give pride of place to preservation quality environments and the buildings required to sustain them. Perhaps for decades to come, material culture artifacts will serve as the ultimate backups for their digital surrogates. Preservation environments buy time for careful decision making and represent highly tangible commitments to long-term preservation" (“Preservation in the Age of Google,” 75).
Even so, the Association for Research Libraries Preservation of Research Library Materials Committee notes that, with all preservation and reformatting options for paper-based library materials, there are benefits and shortcomings. The Committee stated in a June 2004 report that
"Digitization increases the capture capability for many types of paper-based material, such as oversize and color items, for which there has been no effective reformatting strategy to date. Functionality, such as zooming capabilities, allows users to examine more closely fine details and produce a variety of outputs to suit different needs. Digital facsimiles better reproduce the navigational experience of a book than does the linear format of microfilm" (“Recognizing Digitization As A Preservation Reformatting Method,” 2, http://www.arl.org/bm~doc/digi_preserv.pdf).
Even with these reasons to utilize digitization, it is important to note that the ARL recognizes, as the title of the report suggests, that digitization of paper-based materials for preservation is an issue of “reformatting,” not necessarily substitution of the digital surrogate for the original item. This goes counter to a popular attitude amongst library professionals, which is promoted, as Robert Bee discusses in an April 2008 Library Quarterly issue, by “The idea that texts are information that can be reformatted without loss permeates the professional library literature, a view that tends to ignore the importance of a text’s medium and physical format” (“The Importance of Preserving Paper-Based Artifacts in a Digital Age," 180).
Original formats of paper-based library materials carry with them unique “historical dents” created through the agency of various people and the impact of time’s wear. Reproducing these alterations and “dents” are difficult because of their variety on paper-based materials: “Faithful digital representation is even more difficult with manuscripts. Take a look at the Library of Congress’s online versions of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) Life Histories, which requires some complex notation just to represent a small handwritten correction” (Daniel J. Cohen and Roy Rosenzweig, “Digital History,” http://chnm.gmu.edu/ digitalhistory/digitizing/1.php). Digitization for preservation, despite its benefits for “reduce[ing] wear and tear on fragile items,” remains a tool that is to be fit within a library or archives overall preservation program, for “Preservation remains a secondary benefit of digital projects” (Trevor Jones, “An Introduction to Digital Projects for Libraries, Museums and Archives; http://images. library.uiuc.edu/resources/introduction.htm). There is no substitute of the original paper-based record. Searchability, unlimited access, and ready availability will continue to push digitization of library materials for preservation and research needs, and the public will understand only that they want the materials available digitally—not necessarily caring about the preservation issues involved. Public pressure and funding objectives will push libraries to use digitization as a primary means of preservation in the future.
Yet, as pointed out briefly already, Richard Rubin succinctly identifies the most pressing issue regarding digitization for preservation: “The problem is fixity. That is, print materials have some permanence, but electronic text is impermanent. Ironically, the ease with which digital material can be altered raises serious questions about its capacity to serve as a preservation technique” (Foundations of Library and Information Science, 3rd ed., 2010, 259). Long-term preservation of the digital formats most often used to capture digitized records (such as PDF and TIFF) are only reliable as a preservation medium if they can be migrated to newer formats, be able to have guaranteed continual access on technological devices, and have no or little loss of data representing the originally-scanned record. This is where digital preservation—or the long-term curation of digital materials—comes into play, and where the difficulties embodied within both digital preservation and digitization for preservation become joined together. There are no agreed upon long-term digital preservation formats. Rather, there are digital formats that limit or have no loss of digitized material within a certain amount of stored time or certain number of repeated uses of the original digital records. Bee points out that “Digitization offers the potential of much better surrogates for documents, but it also is fraught with danger. Digitized information erodes more quickly than print does, contains errors, must be continually “refreshed,” and is encoded on constantly changing software and hardware” (“The Importance of Preserving,”191).
The costs involved with creating, maintaining, and promoting digitized paper-based library materials can be just as expensive as microfilming, with the major distinction being the great disparity in length of longevity of the storage medium. Digitization relies on magnetic and optical media that require electricity for the basis of access. As more and more digitized library materials are places on the Web, access of these materials also becomes dependent on the type of web browsers used, computers and other digital devices utilized by users and patrons, and the ability of different people from different socio-economic backgrounds to be able to obtain access to those materials.
Digitized library materials give more opportunity for the public and researchers to discover the records without having to be physically present in the records’ repository. Even so, this wider access and discovery opportunity also brings up the “Google question” of copyright issues regarding digitized materials. Libraries do not have the luxury of time to check on the copyrighted nature of all the materials they digitize, though they must according to professional practice and legal restrictions. Thus, digitization offers great flexibility as a preservation tool, but not as the substitute for what others have produced or contributed to a particular produced record within a library’s collection: “Even after digitization, original documents and artifacts must still be cared for” (Jones, “An Introduction,” http://images.library.uiuc.edu/resources/introduction. htm).
In the end, digitization for preservation will continue to operate for the immediate future as a tool only for preservation for most materials, with some materials demanding digitization as the only way to save the information contained in the materials. Long-term, advances may be made to give digital records a storage and use stability of 25-50 years, yet a step below microfilm but a great improvement over current digital storage abilities. Rubin sees that “as new digital storage techniques are developed, digital preservation will become increasingly common” (Foundations of Library 2010, 260). Still, there will be no substitute for the preservation of original paper-based library materials in their original, non-digital format—-at least until digital-born publications and records begin to outnumber and to outperform the amount produced of and opportunities offered by hard copy paper-based materials. Digitization for preservation is a good weapon in the fight to preserve, but just like microfilm has not completely negated preserving the original paper-based materials, so too will digitization not—nor should it—replace the hard copies of the printed word.
Over the past twenty years especially, digitization has become one of the main answers for libraries and archives in creating use surrogates of original materials for public handling, in order to protect the original items and sustain the availability of the items in their original format for as long as possible. However, digitization carries many of its own problems, among which are long-term storage and maintenance of digital materials, complete substitution of the original materials for electronic copies, and the loss of information only available from the original format of the paper-based materials. The most important questions concerning digitization for libraries still have yet to find concrete solutions, while in the meantime libraries continue to digitize for short-term benefits initially. Is digitization the solution for the preservation of paper-based library materials? Is there a difference between “digitization for preservation” and “digital preservation”?
Books and other paper-based records carry with them uniqueness, as well as the record of the physical impact they have received from people and time. Library collections are increasingly focusing on digital collections and digital curation—with digitized paper-based records such as archival material fitting within this movement. However, the concept of “physical artifact” that is embodied within old books and manuscript collections imbues library preservation with the need to take steps to ensure the longevity of the original materials, through providing both a use copy of the fragile originals and sustaining the integrity of the original materials. In a January 2010 issue of The Library Quarterly, Paul Conway echoes this view in his study of the conversion to digitization within libraries and archives, recommending that libraries:
"Continue to give pride of place to preservation quality environments and the buildings required to sustain them. Perhaps for decades to come, material culture artifacts will serve as the ultimate backups for their digital surrogates. Preservation environments buy time for careful decision making and represent highly tangible commitments to long-term preservation" (“Preservation in the Age of Google,” 75).
Even so, the Association for Research Libraries Preservation of Research Library Materials Committee notes that, with all preservation and reformatting options for paper-based library materials, there are benefits and shortcomings. The Committee stated in a June 2004 report that
"Digitization increases the capture capability for many types of paper-based material, such as oversize and color items, for which there has been no effective reformatting strategy to date. Functionality, such as zooming capabilities, allows users to examine more closely fine details and produce a variety of outputs to suit different needs. Digital facsimiles better reproduce the navigational experience of a book than does the linear format of microfilm" (“Recognizing Digitization As A Preservation Reformatting Method,” 2, http://www.arl.org/bm~doc/digi_preserv.pdf).
Even with these reasons to utilize digitization, it is important to note that the ARL recognizes, as the title of the report suggests, that digitization of paper-based materials for preservation is an issue of “reformatting,” not necessarily substitution of the digital surrogate for the original item. This goes counter to a popular attitude amongst library professionals, which is promoted, as Robert Bee discusses in an April 2008 Library Quarterly issue, by “The idea that texts are information that can be reformatted without loss permeates the professional library literature, a view that tends to ignore the importance of a text’s medium and physical format” (“The Importance of Preserving Paper-Based Artifacts in a Digital Age," 180).
Original formats of paper-based library materials carry with them unique “historical dents” created through the agency of various people and the impact of time’s wear. Reproducing these alterations and “dents” are difficult because of their variety on paper-based materials: “Faithful digital representation is even more difficult with manuscripts. Take a look at the Library of Congress’s online versions of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) Life Histories, which requires some complex notation just to represent a small handwritten correction” (Daniel J. Cohen and Roy Rosenzweig, “Digital History,” http://chnm.gmu.edu/ digitalhistory/digitizing/1.php). Digitization for preservation, despite its benefits for “reduce[ing] wear and tear on fragile items,” remains a tool that is to be fit within a library or archives overall preservation program, for “Preservation remains a secondary benefit of digital projects” (Trevor Jones, “An Introduction to Digital Projects for Libraries, Museums and Archives; http://images. library.uiuc.edu/resources/introduction.htm). There is no substitute of the original paper-based record. Searchability, unlimited access, and ready availability will continue to push digitization of library materials for preservation and research needs, and the public will understand only that they want the materials available digitally—not necessarily caring about the preservation issues involved. Public pressure and funding objectives will push libraries to use digitization as a primary means of preservation in the future.
Yet, as pointed out briefly already, Richard Rubin succinctly identifies the most pressing issue regarding digitization for preservation: “The problem is fixity. That is, print materials have some permanence, but electronic text is impermanent. Ironically, the ease with which digital material can be altered raises serious questions about its capacity to serve as a preservation technique” (Foundations of Library and Information Science, 3rd ed., 2010, 259). Long-term preservation of the digital formats most often used to capture digitized records (such as PDF and TIFF) are only reliable as a preservation medium if they can be migrated to newer formats, be able to have guaranteed continual access on technological devices, and have no or little loss of data representing the originally-scanned record. This is where digital preservation—or the long-term curation of digital materials—comes into play, and where the difficulties embodied within both digital preservation and digitization for preservation become joined together. There are no agreed upon long-term digital preservation formats. Rather, there are digital formats that limit or have no loss of digitized material within a certain amount of stored time or certain number of repeated uses of the original digital records. Bee points out that “Digitization offers the potential of much better surrogates for documents, but it also is fraught with danger. Digitized information erodes more quickly than print does, contains errors, must be continually “refreshed,” and is encoded on constantly changing software and hardware” (“The Importance of Preserving,”191).
The costs involved with creating, maintaining, and promoting digitized paper-based library materials can be just as expensive as microfilming, with the major distinction being the great disparity in length of longevity of the storage medium. Digitization relies on magnetic and optical media that require electricity for the basis of access. As more and more digitized library materials are places on the Web, access of these materials also becomes dependent on the type of web browsers used, computers and other digital devices utilized by users and patrons, and the ability of different people from different socio-economic backgrounds to be able to obtain access to those materials.
Digitized library materials give more opportunity for the public and researchers to discover the records without having to be physically present in the records’ repository. Even so, this wider access and discovery opportunity also brings up the “Google question” of copyright issues regarding digitized materials. Libraries do not have the luxury of time to check on the copyrighted nature of all the materials they digitize, though they must according to professional practice and legal restrictions. Thus, digitization offers great flexibility as a preservation tool, but not as the substitute for what others have produced or contributed to a particular produced record within a library’s collection: “Even after digitization, original documents and artifacts must still be cared for” (Jones, “An Introduction,” http://images.library.uiuc.edu/resources/introduction. htm).
In the end, digitization for preservation will continue to operate for the immediate future as a tool only for preservation for most materials, with some materials demanding digitization as the only way to save the information contained in the materials. Long-term, advances may be made to give digital records a storage and use stability of 25-50 years, yet a step below microfilm but a great improvement over current digital storage abilities. Rubin sees that “as new digital storage techniques are developed, digital preservation will become increasingly common” (Foundations of Library 2010, 260). Still, there will be no substitute for the preservation of original paper-based library materials in their original, non-digital format—-at least until digital-born publications and records begin to outnumber and to outperform the amount produced of and opportunities offered by hard copy paper-based materials. Digitization for preservation is a good weapon in the fight to preserve, but just like microfilm has not completely negated preserving the original paper-based materials, so too will digitization not—nor should it—replace the hard copies of the printed word.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Community Archival Websites: The Pros and Cons
When I was a 21-year old history undergraduate, I embarked on researching the Civil War soldiers buried in the oldest cemetery in the county in which my college was located. There had been a legend for over a century of a large number of Civil War soldiers buried somewhere behind my campus. Unfortunately, the county in which I was research, Carter County, Kentucky, has no historical society or archives, a similar plight with most of northeastern Kentucky and other small regions within the geographic and social region known as “Appalachia.” Historical records, photographs, artifacts and the like are kept in families, with access to the original materials limited only to family and certain others to whom there is a trust to be provide access. Outside of the university archives at Morehead State University, about a 30-minute drive from the county in which I was researching, the only collection of local northeastern Kentucky archival materials was in Boyd County, at the public library’s genealogy room. However, the library had no actual archival material, and my research hit a dead end. That is, until I found the Carter County’s community archival website.
Community archival websites began proliferating the United States in the late 1990s thanks to two main sources: 1) the Mormon Church and the digitization of their LDS microfilm collections, and 2) USGenWeb Project. The Mormon Church’s digitization of their microfilmed genealogical resources became the centerpiece for websites like Ancestry.com to boom, and local genealogists and interested family members to locate information to help explain archival materials in the families’ possession. These digitized microfilmed records served as a primary source material basis for genealogists to research and connect their materials online to other local families’ collections. The USGenWeb Project began in 1996 with the goal of “to provide Internet websites for genealogical research in every county and every state of the United States. The Project is non-commercial and fully committed to free access for everyone. Organization is by county and state, and this website provides you with links to all the state websites which, in turn, provide gateways to the counties” (See resource i for source information). The unique goal was to give people at the county level in this country a platform to share their materials in a supported manner that allowed instant access for displaced relatives and lent what many “professional” historians have often considered typical colloquial research a sense of legitimacy. In small counties, such as Carter County, Kentucky, where so many people know one another, these sites brought unofficial collections of interested parties together for a common goal: to preserve and promote their families and communities’ heritage without allowing the outsiders to gain access to the original records, thus preserving that sense of close-knit communalism so unique to Appalachia.
During my research, I found a number of photographs, transcribed family histories, family records, and other vital archival and genealogical materials that led me to finish my book prior to graduation. Up to the time of my book, there had not been a publication regarding the county’s history that provided detailed footnotes, bibliographic references, and other necessary means for outsiders to re-access historical information regarding the county’s history. Carter County’s USGenWeb page allowed me to find so much information that otherwise I would have been refused access to by locals due to my being a “Northerner” and “outsider” (though, for full discloser, my family lineage is from Kentucky). Even at the writing of this blog post, I have discovered recently uploaded photographs of several of the Civil War soldiers I wrote about in my book, which is amazing, since there is no central repository or digitization project for Carter County photographs anywhere in the state of Kentucky. Community archival websites allow communities —much like a professional archival institution—access to those records which are deemed “public accessible,” and these sites are often coordinated by individuals who are able to persuade or obtain unique historical materials from locals that a professional researcher would be at a loss to discover.
Other community archival websites are run by locals who work in conjunction with regional historic and archival institutions, or are run by small historical societies without the resources to acquire a professionally-designed website with highly search-friendly organization of historic records. One example of the former is DaytonHistoryBooksOnline, a site that:
". . . is dedicated to placing historical items about Dayton, Ohio online. Curt Dalton [the founder], a local author who has written several books about Dayton's history, saw a need to make books and other educational materials about Dayton available to children and the general public. He knew that the documents had to be in a format that could easily be read and searched, to enable visitors to use the information in homework and personal projects" (information in brackets added)(See resource ii for source information).
In this example, the website’s founder had informal training in historical research, and had already established a network in the Dayton area with those able to provide local historic records. The site has grown from its original 20 local history books to include video, audio, photographs, a historical events blog by local citizens, and newspaper articles on Dayton area history, all with the benefit of a site search engine and a subject list for more pinpoint research. The site is now used by the history and archival programs for local Dayton area universities and colleges—as well as local libraries—all of which include Wright State University, University of Dayton, and the Dayton-Montgomery Metro Library.
Small historical societies, even if incorporated as a non-profit, are often run by non-professionals as far as the history and archival professions are concerned, yet these institution often use free or cheap hosting sites to run their local community history websites. Often located in communities with a small public library (meaning a small genealogy and local history department—if any) and very little interest in community history outside of a select group of citizens. One such example this author has encountered during his personal research for a journal article was in the town of Jamestown, Ohio, located 11 miles east of Xenia, Ohio, in Greene County. This community has lost most of its historic records, as a 1918 county history book noted: “Any effort to follow its career [Jamestown, Ohio] during the past one hundred years involves the historian in difficulty because of the fact that no records are available to trace its development year by year”(See resource iii for source information). I was conducting research on a lynching in that community that had gone un-investigated mostly since just after its occurrence in 1887. It was a unique case, and no photographs could be found in the county library, country archives, or county historical society from the late 1880s or even the 1890s for Jamestown. However, one photograph from 1884 of the exact site of the lynching (as reported in newspapers) was discovered on a local Jamestown community website that the historical society uses (See resource iv for source information). This photograph is owned by a local high school history teacher who did not even share it with the county historical society, yet he shared it with the local town historical society for their website only. Incidentally, the director of the town historical society runs the only barbershop in town and knows everyone in the community, just about.
Those type of close communal ties are ties that can take professional archivists and historians quite some time to establish with those harborers of community memory; particularly in my experiences, non-professionals do not trust professionals, because of one word—possession. Although community historians perform their research for the community’s benefit, often their sense of identity is in the research they do, the public service they perform, and the individuals that know to come to this “local historian.” Every smaller community has one of these individuals, and to insult them may mean the loss of an entire city or town’s historical records that this individual has collected and stored in their basement (yes, I’m speaking from a true story). In the Jamestown example, I do not think I would have gotten very far coming into a community which has completely forgotten the 1887 lynching and as “Do you have any historical records on this lynching—I’m writing an article on it?” Doors probably would not have been able to have closed fast enough. Such tight community possession and protection of its historical resources in a non-formal manner is equally present in African American communities. Again, I have been involved in two major African American communities in this country both in a Northern and Southern state, and the results were very similar. Familiarity and trust are more important than professionalism and long-term sustainability of historic materials for these communities, since their trust has been broken so many times in the past. All of this being said, what are the pros and cons of community archival websites?
Pros: Information otherwise lost is promoted and made widely available; a sense of community pride is built in promoting these records online; and individuals and families get to tell their stories in their own way, without having to follow a template or “professional” standard.
A key thing to remember about these websites is the importance of their informal nature. Although their records might not be structured or described very well, might lake appropriate or any metadata, and may not have copyright or citation information available, that is the price of have an informal website. Since many community archival websites are hosted on free websites that offer limited options for structure or design, there is often little that can be done to improve their format to facilitate better research capabilities. Also, if the site was to become more professional, they would cease to be “community” sites. It is almost like comparing a local historic burger joint to McDonalds: sure the menu may not have all the prices listed or multiple ways to chose to have your food made, but the food tastes great and the service is personal.
Cons: Historic records will be improperly preserved, and may never be fully described with all pertinent information that researchers would find invaluable; not everyone in the community will be allowed to participate in the preservation and promotion effort of these local historic records, since only a handful of individuals are “in charge” of the community’s records; outsider researchers working on historic projects and publications will most likely not find important records they need to connect the historical dots; and if something happens to those controlling the community’s historic records (such as a heart attack), vital historic community information will disappear for good.
Okay, now that the definitions and issues involved have been discussed, how can librarians, archivists, and historians approach locating, using, and preserving historic records found on community archival websites? I offer three pieces of advice:
1) If you are an outsider to the community, try to locate a local professional of some sorts with whom you can build a relationship and who is connect with those operating the community’s historic/archival website. Let this person put you in touch with the individual/individuals you should speak with about possibly obtaining copies, permission for use, or cooping with the community archival website. Most often, it is best to have your connection be present for the initial meetings, and try to make the first contacts in-person, rather than by phone or email. For local historians, nothing will turn someone down more than informal, impersonal communication. The whole reason they became involved with the community archival website was for the personalism of the historical service they provide—an equal amount of personalism should be shown if a professional archivist wishes to acquire anything useful or important from them.
2) Do not talk about “possession,” “proper preservation,” “deed of gift,” or “donation” with these community historians. By pitting yourself as a “professional,” you are telling them that they are not. However, to their mind, they are doing something you could never do or have not done to this point: obtain and interpret local historical information from a community by building relationships with those who do not trust many people. Since the key to the reason many local historians do what they do is “possession,” speaking to them using terms that denote transferring or yielding possession of their work or materials to an archives, museum, historical society, or library will be mostly unsuccessful. Rather, discuss the importance of what they do for audiences they may have not encountered or been intending to reach, and offer simple alternatives to yielding possession of their materials. It can be as simple as scanning the materials, or taking non-flash photographs (though, in one case, I encountered a local historian who had scanned everything and was convinced he had more than enough training to scan the materials professionally and archivally—sometimes you just cannot win the argument). Offer them a coop with their website, by attaching a description and link for their website and its resources to the professional’s institutional website. Many archivists already tell researchers the names of locals to contact for more information; this is a way to give the community archival websites directors the credit while adding some semblance of credence and professionalism to the work they have done. Offer them the chance to speak to your constituents about their materials, or involved them in planning local history projects. Building relationships here is the key.
3) If all else fails and you receive high resistance from those running the websites, a simple solution is to sidestep these individuals. Build your own community contacts, go to the individuals from whom the website operators received some of their historic records, and ask for copies of the information for your institution. There are times when losing the historic records because of the resistance, pride, and stubbornness of the local communities is not something that should be allowed to occur. The historic records of the community belong to the community—not to a few individuals within it. The community deserves the best care of the records possible, and the most use of them to add to the public body of historical knowledge. But not this: such actions can cause backlash from some of the locals, and an institution must discuss how to handle such situations.
Ultimately, community archival websites are a huge asset, and the greatest care should be taken to ensure that the work a select few are doing does not fall apart. The community demands it.
Resources
i. “About the USGenWeb Project,” Viewed on February 14, 2011, at http://usgenweb.org/about/index.shtml.
ii. DaytonHistoryBooksOnline, viewed on February 23, 2011, at http://www.daytonhistorybooks.com/index.html.
iii. Michael A. Broadstone, ed., History of Greene County, Ohio: Its People, Industries and Institutions, Vol. 1 (Indianapolis, Indiana: B.F. Bowen &Co., 1918): 387.
iv. http://www.dragonbbs.com/members/ww8566/
Community archival websites began proliferating the United States in the late 1990s thanks to two main sources: 1) the Mormon Church and the digitization of their LDS microfilm collections, and 2) USGenWeb Project. The Mormon Church’s digitization of their microfilmed genealogical resources became the centerpiece for websites like Ancestry.com to boom, and local genealogists and interested family members to locate information to help explain archival materials in the families’ possession. These digitized microfilmed records served as a primary source material basis for genealogists to research and connect their materials online to other local families’ collections. The USGenWeb Project began in 1996 with the goal of “to provide Internet websites for genealogical research in every county and every state of the United States. The Project is non-commercial and fully committed to free access for everyone. Organization is by county and state, and this website provides you with links to all the state websites which, in turn, provide gateways to the counties” (See resource i for source information). The unique goal was to give people at the county level in this country a platform to share their materials in a supported manner that allowed instant access for displaced relatives and lent what many “professional” historians have often considered typical colloquial research a sense of legitimacy. In small counties, such as Carter County, Kentucky, where so many people know one another, these sites brought unofficial collections of interested parties together for a common goal: to preserve and promote their families and communities’ heritage without allowing the outsiders to gain access to the original records, thus preserving that sense of close-knit communalism so unique to Appalachia.
During my research, I found a number of photographs, transcribed family histories, family records, and other vital archival and genealogical materials that led me to finish my book prior to graduation. Up to the time of my book, there had not been a publication regarding the county’s history that provided detailed footnotes, bibliographic references, and other necessary means for outsiders to re-access historical information regarding the county’s history. Carter County’s USGenWeb page allowed me to find so much information that otherwise I would have been refused access to by locals due to my being a “Northerner” and “outsider” (though, for full discloser, my family lineage is from Kentucky). Even at the writing of this blog post, I have discovered recently uploaded photographs of several of the Civil War soldiers I wrote about in my book, which is amazing, since there is no central repository or digitization project for Carter County photographs anywhere in the state of Kentucky. Community archival websites allow communities —much like a professional archival institution—access to those records which are deemed “public accessible,” and these sites are often coordinated by individuals who are able to persuade or obtain unique historical materials from locals that a professional researcher would be at a loss to discover.
Other community archival websites are run by locals who work in conjunction with regional historic and archival institutions, or are run by small historical societies without the resources to acquire a professionally-designed website with highly search-friendly organization of historic records. One example of the former is DaytonHistoryBooksOnline, a site that:
". . . is dedicated to placing historical items about Dayton, Ohio online. Curt Dalton [the founder], a local author who has written several books about Dayton's history, saw a need to make books and other educational materials about Dayton available to children and the general public. He knew that the documents had to be in a format that could easily be read and searched, to enable visitors to use the information in homework and personal projects" (information in brackets added)(See resource ii for source information).
In this example, the website’s founder had informal training in historical research, and had already established a network in the Dayton area with those able to provide local historic records. The site has grown from its original 20 local history books to include video, audio, photographs, a historical events blog by local citizens, and newspaper articles on Dayton area history, all with the benefit of a site search engine and a subject list for more pinpoint research. The site is now used by the history and archival programs for local Dayton area universities and colleges—as well as local libraries—all of which include Wright State University, University of Dayton, and the Dayton-Montgomery Metro Library.
Small historical societies, even if incorporated as a non-profit, are often run by non-professionals as far as the history and archival professions are concerned, yet these institution often use free or cheap hosting sites to run their local community history websites. Often located in communities with a small public library (meaning a small genealogy and local history department—if any) and very little interest in community history outside of a select group of citizens. One such example this author has encountered during his personal research for a journal article was in the town of Jamestown, Ohio, located 11 miles east of Xenia, Ohio, in Greene County. This community has lost most of its historic records, as a 1918 county history book noted: “Any effort to follow its career [Jamestown, Ohio] during the past one hundred years involves the historian in difficulty because of the fact that no records are available to trace its development year by year”(See resource iii for source information). I was conducting research on a lynching in that community that had gone un-investigated mostly since just after its occurrence in 1887. It was a unique case, and no photographs could be found in the county library, country archives, or county historical society from the late 1880s or even the 1890s for Jamestown. However, one photograph from 1884 of the exact site of the lynching (as reported in newspapers) was discovered on a local Jamestown community website that the historical society uses (See resource iv for source information). This photograph is owned by a local high school history teacher who did not even share it with the county historical society, yet he shared it with the local town historical society for their website only. Incidentally, the director of the town historical society runs the only barbershop in town and knows everyone in the community, just about.
Those type of close communal ties are ties that can take professional archivists and historians quite some time to establish with those harborers of community memory; particularly in my experiences, non-professionals do not trust professionals, because of one word—possession. Although community historians perform their research for the community’s benefit, often their sense of identity is in the research they do, the public service they perform, and the individuals that know to come to this “local historian.” Every smaller community has one of these individuals, and to insult them may mean the loss of an entire city or town’s historical records that this individual has collected and stored in their basement (yes, I’m speaking from a true story). In the Jamestown example, I do not think I would have gotten very far coming into a community which has completely forgotten the 1887 lynching and as “Do you have any historical records on this lynching—I’m writing an article on it?” Doors probably would not have been able to have closed fast enough. Such tight community possession and protection of its historical resources in a non-formal manner is equally present in African American communities. Again, I have been involved in two major African American communities in this country both in a Northern and Southern state, and the results were very similar. Familiarity and trust are more important than professionalism and long-term sustainability of historic materials for these communities, since their trust has been broken so many times in the past. All of this being said, what are the pros and cons of community archival websites?
Pros: Information otherwise lost is promoted and made widely available; a sense of community pride is built in promoting these records online; and individuals and families get to tell their stories in their own way, without having to follow a template or “professional” standard.
A key thing to remember about these websites is the importance of their informal nature. Although their records might not be structured or described very well, might lake appropriate or any metadata, and may not have copyright or citation information available, that is the price of have an informal website. Since many community archival websites are hosted on free websites that offer limited options for structure or design, there is often little that can be done to improve their format to facilitate better research capabilities. Also, if the site was to become more professional, they would cease to be “community” sites. It is almost like comparing a local historic burger joint to McDonalds: sure the menu may not have all the prices listed or multiple ways to chose to have your food made, but the food tastes great and the service is personal.
Cons: Historic records will be improperly preserved, and may never be fully described with all pertinent information that researchers would find invaluable; not everyone in the community will be allowed to participate in the preservation and promotion effort of these local historic records, since only a handful of individuals are “in charge” of the community’s records; outsider researchers working on historic projects and publications will most likely not find important records they need to connect the historical dots; and if something happens to those controlling the community’s historic records (such as a heart attack), vital historic community information will disappear for good.
Okay, now that the definitions and issues involved have been discussed, how can librarians, archivists, and historians approach locating, using, and preserving historic records found on community archival websites? I offer three pieces of advice:
1) If you are an outsider to the community, try to locate a local professional of some sorts with whom you can build a relationship and who is connect with those operating the community’s historic/archival website. Let this person put you in touch with the individual/individuals you should speak with about possibly obtaining copies, permission for use, or cooping with the community archival website. Most often, it is best to have your connection be present for the initial meetings, and try to make the first contacts in-person, rather than by phone or email. For local historians, nothing will turn someone down more than informal, impersonal communication. The whole reason they became involved with the community archival website was for the personalism of the historical service they provide—an equal amount of personalism should be shown if a professional archivist wishes to acquire anything useful or important from them.
2) Do not talk about “possession,” “proper preservation,” “deed of gift,” or “donation” with these community historians. By pitting yourself as a “professional,” you are telling them that they are not. However, to their mind, they are doing something you could never do or have not done to this point: obtain and interpret local historical information from a community by building relationships with those who do not trust many people. Since the key to the reason many local historians do what they do is “possession,” speaking to them using terms that denote transferring or yielding possession of their work or materials to an archives, museum, historical society, or library will be mostly unsuccessful. Rather, discuss the importance of what they do for audiences they may have not encountered or been intending to reach, and offer simple alternatives to yielding possession of their materials. It can be as simple as scanning the materials, or taking non-flash photographs (though, in one case, I encountered a local historian who had scanned everything and was convinced he had more than enough training to scan the materials professionally and archivally—sometimes you just cannot win the argument). Offer them a coop with their website, by attaching a description and link for their website and its resources to the professional’s institutional website. Many archivists already tell researchers the names of locals to contact for more information; this is a way to give the community archival websites directors the credit while adding some semblance of credence and professionalism to the work they have done. Offer them the chance to speak to your constituents about their materials, or involved them in planning local history projects. Building relationships here is the key.
3) If all else fails and you receive high resistance from those running the websites, a simple solution is to sidestep these individuals. Build your own community contacts, go to the individuals from whom the website operators received some of their historic records, and ask for copies of the information for your institution. There are times when losing the historic records because of the resistance, pride, and stubbornness of the local communities is not something that should be allowed to occur. The historic records of the community belong to the community—not to a few individuals within it. The community deserves the best care of the records possible, and the most use of them to add to the public body of historical knowledge. But not this: such actions can cause backlash from some of the locals, and an institution must discuss how to handle such situations.
Ultimately, community archival websites are a huge asset, and the greatest care should be taken to ensure that the work a select few are doing does not fall apart. The community demands it.
Resources
i. “About the USGenWeb Project,” Viewed on February 14, 2011, at http://usgenweb.org/about/index.shtml.
ii. DaytonHistoryBooksOnline, viewed on February 23, 2011, at http://www.daytonhistorybooks.com/index.html.
iii. Michael A. Broadstone, ed., History of Greene County, Ohio: Its People, Industries and Institutions, Vol. 1 (Indianapolis, Indiana: B.F. Bowen &Co., 1918): 387.
iv. http://www.dragonbbs.com/members/ww8566/
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Falsely-dated Lincoln Pardon, Archives, and the Public's Expectations
The past month of January 2011 has brought much pressure and bad spotlight upon the archival community with the announcement of the doctoring of a Lincoln military pardon date written on April 14, 1864, having changed it to April 14, 1865, the last day Lincoln was alive. The report from the Associated Press states that "[Thomas] Lowry's purported discovery was hailed by historians when he came forward in 1998. At the time, a Civil War expert with the Archives said Lowry had made 'a unique and substantial contribution to Lincoln research and to the study of the Civil War.' The National Archives gave the document prominent display, putting it on tour along with other important Lincoln documents" (Viewed on February 2, 2011, at http://washingtonexaminer.com/news/nation/2011/01/archives-historian-tampered-lincoln-pardon-0). Now, eventually an archivist spotted the change and investigated the document's date, but it took far too long, and the National Archives bought into Lowry's reason for changing the date without having done a through, historical check on the letter in the first place: they believed it to be a historically-significant document and used it as an attraction. Now, I'm not blaming the National Archives for anything except jumping the gun--going against the principles all young archivists are taught in graduate school--because they are a large organization. I blame Mr. Lowry, obviously. But that's not the point.
The point is that due to this fiasco, what brought good recognition to the NA for about 12 years has now brought a questioning public who already does not understand the concept of an archives, archival principles, or preservation of records and public access to public historical records. There are calls for higher security in archives (which archives can barely afford now, for many small to medium sized institutions), only those with high "academic credentials" to be allowed access to the records (though Mr. Lowry was a highly-respected history author, and would have been trusted at any archives), and greater protection of the records from too much use (already something people don't understand when you tell them a record is being protected and can't be used--they ask, "so why have it if no one can use it"). I personally have seen worse damages caused by patrons on historical records, including one page of an 1860s marriage record book ripped out by a person wanting to frame the marriage record of their ancestors on their wall at home (despite all the other families' records that were on that page and are gone now).
This incident will bring pressure to restrict records that are needed by all researchers--college students, amateurs, etc.--in order to keep them "safe." Yet, as with the War on Terror, we trade freedoms for safety. Archival liberty has been impinged upon by a historical terrorist. I ask, though, if this historical document was not concerning an important date in Lincoln's life--if it was now "'becomes one of many pardons that Lincoln signed'" (http://washingtonexaminer.com/news/nation/2011/01/archives-historian-tampered-lincoln-pardon-0), would anyone care or have notice? Would archivists trained to notice have noticed? Would the public care anything about security at archival institutions if this was not Abraham Lincoln's legacy with which had been toyed?
The sad part is that this incident shows how poorly the archives field has done in making itself known to the public about what it does and how it manages the records placed in its trust. The incident shows that people expect absolute protection by archivists of the public's historical records, but the public doesn't understand or doesn't wish to cooperate with archivists regarding bringing no pens into archives (or bringing cell phones with cameras in, for that matter). It puts greater strain on archivists' already limited resources, and makes the profession jumping about allowing the public to see records that it might have before this Lincoln pardon incident. You might disagree with me on how archives are viewed by the public, especially after the success of major programs like the American Memory project by NARA and the Chronicling America newspaper digitization project that genealogists love so much. However, when I tell people I'm an archivist, I get blank stares until I say, "It's working in museums, historical societies, preserving historical records and papers" that people go "Oh, that's cool," recognizing the concept vaguely, but not understanding why it matters or what it entails. But now when I say "archivist," I'll get, "Have you heard about that falsified Lincoln pardon."
The author of this blog participated in a Q&A live blog session January 27, 2011, with David S. Ferriero, the current Archivist of the United States, on the Washington Post's website. Reading the questions from the general public and his answers shows me the gap between the professional understanding of archivists and the professional expectations of the public. I asked him a question that makes me nervous as a young professional interested in a profession that is a little freer than most as far as personnel oversight (it's not the FBI or the Pentagon) and demands interacting with the public constantly using original, one-of-a-kind historic records. I asked: "Q: As both a historian and a young archival professional, I am wondering how much more restriction you will see being placed upon both researchers and archivists in reading room settings? Are additional cameras and biometrics the next step in archives for security?" The reply was rather uninspiring, and bothersome to me: "A: Security is an ongoing and continually changing process as we learn more about human nature and new tools at our disposal to ensure that the records are protected. Eternal vigilance is our mantra" (the transcript for this blog session can be found at http://live.washingtonpost.com/altered-lincoln-pardon.html). "Eternal vigilance"? "Learn[ing] more about human nature"? I think after thousands of years of studying human nature, we realize that people are going to serve their own selfish ends, and don't mind destroying historic items to do so. And "eternal vigilance" didn't stop the incident from happening in 1998.
The bottom line of this whole post: without the public's knowledge about our field, how can there be in increase in funding, program involvement, public history/archives internship opportunities for completion of Masters' degrees, support for preservation of county and state records, and so forth? With my experience in a county archives setting, I can tell you one of the first things to be said in a meeting with a county board of commissioners or similar body with the county archivist is this: are you protecting your records from having things like the Lowry incident from occurring? Why should archives be funded if incidents like the Lincoln pardon are all the news stories that the public remembers about an archives? What will be the impact on donor relations after such an incident? Archivists are busy enough as is, but there needs to be much more proactive involvement of archives in communities, so when these bad incidents happen the public understands better as to how such things can occur. It will protect us from losing public support, and in turn help better protect this country's historic records. We need to take better advantage of newspapers (weekly news articles from local archives, anyone?), television, internet video broadcasting (high school A/V students shooting short videos in archives as student projects and posting on the archives' YouTube page?), and blogs. The only way to beat bad press is with your own good press, and the public's support. We need more than "Eternal vigilance."
These are just some observations. Productive dialogue is welcome.
-Matthew, the Eclectic Archivist
The point is that due to this fiasco, what brought good recognition to the NA for about 12 years has now brought a questioning public who already does not understand the concept of an archives, archival principles, or preservation of records and public access to public historical records. There are calls for higher security in archives (which archives can barely afford now, for many small to medium sized institutions), only those with high "academic credentials" to be allowed access to the records (though Mr. Lowry was a highly-respected history author, and would have been trusted at any archives), and greater protection of the records from too much use (already something people don't understand when you tell them a record is being protected and can't be used--they ask, "so why have it if no one can use it"). I personally have seen worse damages caused by patrons on historical records, including one page of an 1860s marriage record book ripped out by a person wanting to frame the marriage record of their ancestors on their wall at home (despite all the other families' records that were on that page and are gone now).
This incident will bring pressure to restrict records that are needed by all researchers--college students, amateurs, etc.--in order to keep them "safe." Yet, as with the War on Terror, we trade freedoms for safety. Archival liberty has been impinged upon by a historical terrorist. I ask, though, if this historical document was not concerning an important date in Lincoln's life--if it was now "'becomes one of many pardons that Lincoln signed'" (http://washingtonexaminer.com/news/nation/2011/01/archives-historian-tampered-lincoln-pardon-0), would anyone care or have notice? Would archivists trained to notice have noticed? Would the public care anything about security at archival institutions if this was not Abraham Lincoln's legacy with which had been toyed?
The sad part is that this incident shows how poorly the archives field has done in making itself known to the public about what it does and how it manages the records placed in its trust. The incident shows that people expect absolute protection by archivists of the public's historical records, but the public doesn't understand or doesn't wish to cooperate with archivists regarding bringing no pens into archives (or bringing cell phones with cameras in, for that matter). It puts greater strain on archivists' already limited resources, and makes the profession jumping about allowing the public to see records that it might have before this Lincoln pardon incident. You might disagree with me on how archives are viewed by the public, especially after the success of major programs like the American Memory project by NARA and the Chronicling America newspaper digitization project that genealogists love so much. However, when I tell people I'm an archivist, I get blank stares until I say, "It's working in museums, historical societies, preserving historical records and papers" that people go "Oh, that's cool," recognizing the concept vaguely, but not understanding why it matters or what it entails. But now when I say "archivist," I'll get, "Have you heard about that falsified Lincoln pardon."
The author of this blog participated in a Q&A live blog session January 27, 2011, with David S. Ferriero, the current Archivist of the United States, on the Washington Post's website. Reading the questions from the general public and his answers shows me the gap between the professional understanding of archivists and the professional expectations of the public. I asked him a question that makes me nervous as a young professional interested in a profession that is a little freer than most as far as personnel oversight (it's not the FBI or the Pentagon) and demands interacting with the public constantly using original, one-of-a-kind historic records. I asked: "Q: As both a historian and a young archival professional, I am wondering how much more restriction you will see being placed upon both researchers and archivists in reading room settings? Are additional cameras and biometrics the next step in archives for security?" The reply was rather uninspiring, and bothersome to me: "A: Security is an ongoing and continually changing process as we learn more about human nature and new tools at our disposal to ensure that the records are protected. Eternal vigilance is our mantra" (the transcript for this blog session can be found at http://live.washingtonpost.com/altered-lincoln-pardon.html). "Eternal vigilance"? "Learn[ing] more about human nature"? I think after thousands of years of studying human nature, we realize that people are going to serve their own selfish ends, and don't mind destroying historic items to do so. And "eternal vigilance" didn't stop the incident from happening in 1998.
The bottom line of this whole post: without the public's knowledge about our field, how can there be in increase in funding, program involvement, public history/archives internship opportunities for completion of Masters' degrees, support for preservation of county and state records, and so forth? With my experience in a county archives setting, I can tell you one of the first things to be said in a meeting with a county board of commissioners or similar body with the county archivist is this: are you protecting your records from having things like the Lowry incident from occurring? Why should archives be funded if incidents like the Lincoln pardon are all the news stories that the public remembers about an archives? What will be the impact on donor relations after such an incident? Archivists are busy enough as is, but there needs to be much more proactive involvement of archives in communities, so when these bad incidents happen the public understands better as to how such things can occur. It will protect us from losing public support, and in turn help better protect this country's historic records. We need to take better advantage of newspapers (weekly news articles from local archives, anyone?), television, internet video broadcasting (high school A/V students shooting short videos in archives as student projects and posting on the archives' YouTube page?), and blogs. The only way to beat bad press is with your own good press, and the public's support. We need more than "Eternal vigilance."
These are just some observations. Productive dialogue is welcome.
-Matthew, the Eclectic Archivist
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The Gap Between MLIS and MA in the Archival World
As a currently job-seeking archivist, I have during this past year become ever more increasingly aware of the gap between archivists who have MLIS degrees and those with M..A. degrees in public history or archival studies. This is not a new issue, nor one that most of you readers probably would be taken surprise by; yet it is an issue that is putting young professionals in a quandary and sitting on the outskirts of the job market. After attending a prominent archives conference in the Midwest this year, it became abundantly clear that those with MLIS degrees often are much better at cataloguing and access-related issues for archives, than they are at actual understanding of the historical subject matters in the materials they deal with on a daily basis.
Many MLIS archivists I encountered in workshops would be asking simple questions such as "how do you describe XYZ" in archival databases or encoded schema (such as ContentDM or EAD), and those leading the workshops often simply responded that you enter the description in the "Description" field or under the collection abstract. Some of the most basic archival procedures or descriptive standards often appear as complicated codices, needing precise slots to fill information in or else the archivist is lost. Now, I truly realize this to be a great generalization, and I mean no insult or questioning of the skills of those MLIS degrees whom have led the way in the archival profession. On the other hand, from my perspective as both a researcher and a young archivist, I believe much of the archival community has missed the mark in their field. What I mean is that, while many groups and organizations cannot afford to high a full-time qualified archivist, other institutions hiring archivists zero in on only the MLIS candidates; frequently this is due to their being a library within a university setting.
What we find is a large number of unemployed individuals with M.A.s in Public History or Archival Studies who cannot get work in the field, while those institutions seeking only an MLIS candidate are taking longer and longer to find archivists to fill their positions. A number of states with some of the best archival institutions in the nation also have few, MLIS archives programs: the state of Ohio, for example, only has one ALA-accredited school in Kent State University, making it hard for many interested in the archival profession to gain the "accepted degree" for archivists (though the state of Ohio also has some of the best history and public history programs in the country, many of these students still have to earn a MLIS from an institution to get in the field). What would an institution rather have: someone who does not have as much library experience but has a solid background in history, historical research, and practical experience processing and preserving archival collections, or an MLIS candidate who frequently only has a couple of archival classes and volunteer experience in a library archives setting? An example of the struggle many wanting to get a professional degree in archival studies are having was discussed a few years ago in an online forum at the Chronicle of Higher Education's website: http://chronicle.com/forums/index.php?topic=32957.0
The fact of the matter is that archival materials, though they may contain items that are frequently encountered in library collections (i.e. audio recordings, books, etc.), are historical records, and the current prevailing trend of librarians falling library guidelines for processing historical collections makes it very difficult for historians to do research in a historiographical manner. Archival materials often do not follow logical historical categorizations unless the MLIS archivist has an extensive history background. Personally, I would prefer going to an archives for research and encountering a historian working as an archivist, with all the necessary archivist training, than an MLIS archivist. I feel that the disconnect between MLIS and M.A. professionals has and is creating a lost repository of records: as archivists fight over electronic descriptive standards and HTML/XML codings of finding aids, many users don't even understand the searching tools or division of materials used in these "archival online databases." Some of the findings aids I've encountered would take an actual archivist to understand. The result is a lot of unprocessed and undescribed archival materials sitting in backrooms where researchers don't even really know what's there, all the while archives are worried about keeping up with the current generation through Facebook and Twitter (though they have not yet solved how to save the information created for these online social networks).
I realize this again is very general. Archivists are not to blame for everything that is troubling archival materials in the United States. Budget cuts, board of directors' push for new programs, lack of supplies, and other such devices that distract archivists from their work have caused a lot of problems. Too much to do, too little time is the oft-cited mantra. But we need to buckle down and deal with what we have in our collections. The best outreach and donor relations are processed collections. This brings us back to the issue at the heart of this post: MLIS vs. M.A. Those archivists with history degrees bring professional connections to an archival repository that many MLIS professionals lack, and the more connection an archives has to professional historical organizations the more need for one's collections will be brought to the institution. Yes, online is the demand of the time; but even more so than instantaneous access should be the issue of general access. Archivists, we need to unite, regardless of the degree, to work together. As long as there continues to be a bias in favor of MLIS professionals in the archival community, the nation's records will continue to suffer.
-Matthew, the Eclectic Archivist
P.S. As a post script, since the initial writing of this post, I have gone to the darkside and am now in a MLIS program so I can compete better for an archives job. My one professor, who has worked in archives, made a very interesting statement to the class about cataloging. He said that cataloging archives is a whole other ballpark from standard AACR2R and MARC cataloging approaches, mainly because most archival collections are not an individual item themselves, unlike books or audio recordings. It takes a different mindset to process archives. You know I agree with him, which is the biggest reason I, as a historian, don't agree with this MLIS bias in archives. It's improving, and more institutions are recognizing the M.A. public history programs, but if you have the experience and training, that should be what matters in locating archival jobs.
Many MLIS archivists I encountered in workshops would be asking simple questions such as "how do you describe XYZ" in archival databases or encoded schema (such as ContentDM or EAD), and those leading the workshops often simply responded that you enter the description in the "Description" field or under the collection abstract. Some of the most basic archival procedures or descriptive standards often appear as complicated codices, needing precise slots to fill information in or else the archivist is lost. Now, I truly realize this to be a great generalization, and I mean no insult or questioning of the skills of those MLIS degrees whom have led the way in the archival profession. On the other hand, from my perspective as both a researcher and a young archivist, I believe much of the archival community has missed the mark in their field. What I mean is that, while many groups and organizations cannot afford to high a full-time qualified archivist, other institutions hiring archivists zero in on only the MLIS candidates; frequently this is due to their being a library within a university setting.
What we find is a large number of unemployed individuals with M.A.s in Public History or Archival Studies who cannot get work in the field, while those institutions seeking only an MLIS candidate are taking longer and longer to find archivists to fill their positions. A number of states with some of the best archival institutions in the nation also have few, MLIS archives programs: the state of Ohio, for example, only has one ALA-accredited school in Kent State University, making it hard for many interested in the archival profession to gain the "accepted degree" for archivists (though the state of Ohio also has some of the best history and public history programs in the country, many of these students still have to earn a MLIS from an institution to get in the field). What would an institution rather have: someone who does not have as much library experience but has a solid background in history, historical research, and practical experience processing and preserving archival collections, or an MLIS candidate who frequently only has a couple of archival classes and volunteer experience in a library archives setting? An example of the struggle many wanting to get a professional degree in archival studies are having was discussed a few years ago in an online forum at the Chronicle of Higher Education's website: http://chronicle.com/forums/index.php?topic=32957.0
The fact of the matter is that archival materials, though they may contain items that are frequently encountered in library collections (i.e. audio recordings, books, etc.), are historical records, and the current prevailing trend of librarians falling library guidelines for processing historical collections makes it very difficult for historians to do research in a historiographical manner. Archival materials often do not follow logical historical categorizations unless the MLIS archivist has an extensive history background. Personally, I would prefer going to an archives for research and encountering a historian working as an archivist, with all the necessary archivist training, than an MLIS archivist. I feel that the disconnect between MLIS and M.A. professionals has and is creating a lost repository of records: as archivists fight over electronic descriptive standards and HTML/XML codings of finding aids, many users don't even understand the searching tools or division of materials used in these "archival online databases." Some of the findings aids I've encountered would take an actual archivist to understand. The result is a lot of unprocessed and undescribed archival materials sitting in backrooms where researchers don't even really know what's there, all the while archives are worried about keeping up with the current generation through Facebook and Twitter (though they have not yet solved how to save the information created for these online social networks).
I realize this again is very general. Archivists are not to blame for everything that is troubling archival materials in the United States. Budget cuts, board of directors' push for new programs, lack of supplies, and other such devices that distract archivists from their work have caused a lot of problems. Too much to do, too little time is the oft-cited mantra. But we need to buckle down and deal with what we have in our collections. The best outreach and donor relations are processed collections. This brings us back to the issue at the heart of this post: MLIS vs. M.A. Those archivists with history degrees bring professional connections to an archival repository that many MLIS professionals lack, and the more connection an archives has to professional historical organizations the more need for one's collections will be brought to the institution. Yes, online is the demand of the time; but even more so than instantaneous access should be the issue of general access. Archivists, we need to unite, regardless of the degree, to work together. As long as there continues to be a bias in favor of MLIS professionals in the archival community, the nation's records will continue to suffer.
-Matthew, the Eclectic Archivist
P.S. As a post script, since the initial writing of this post, I have gone to the darkside and am now in a MLIS program so I can compete better for an archives job. My one professor, who has worked in archives, made a very interesting statement to the class about cataloging. He said that cataloging archives is a whole other ballpark from standard AACR2R and MARC cataloging approaches, mainly because most archival collections are not an individual item themselves, unlike books or audio recordings. It takes a different mindset to process archives. You know I agree with him, which is the biggest reason I, as a historian, don't agree with this MLIS bias in archives. It's improving, and more institutions are recognizing the M.A. public history programs, but if you have the experience and training, that should be what matters in locating archival jobs.
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