Looking Beyond the Official Archive

In a recent talk entitled “Akosombo Stories: The Methodological Challenges of Researching Postcolonial African Histories” Stephan Miescher of the University of California, Santa Barbara used his ongoing research project on the social and cultural history of the Akosombo Dam in Ghana to assess the difficulties of researching post colonial Africa and offer some possible solutions. While in part his discussion addressed the terrible state of many official records from the postcolonial period in Ghana due to political instability, coups and a lack of resources, Miescher’s larger point was one relevant to all historians, a reminder that no matter how complete and well-preserved the official archive, it always tells only a partial story.

Cover of booklet, The Volta River Project (Accra: Ghana Information Services, 1963), Courtesy of Stephan Miescher

Bridges

Since I started paddling an outrigger canoe through the Newport harbor, I’ve gone under a lot of bridges. I learned, very quickly, that the current around bridges can be unpredictable–even dangerously so. In my small boat if I hit a bridge it means that I’ll likely end up going for an unintentional swim and the blow from hitting a cement pylon can easily cause irreparable damage to my fragile canoe.

As I paddled under a low-lying bridge last week and heard the uncanny echo of water and wind through that space, I realized why trolls always live under bridges in folktales. Bridges are important places–necessary crossroads. But they are also liminal places where danger lurks. It might be in the form of a malintentioned someone hiding in the shadows, or it might be a whirl of current that pulls the boat toward a cement piling encrusted with mussel shells. Whatever the possibilities, bridge-crossings demand heightened attention.

Like the dangers of the bridges that I face as I paddle around segments of the harbor, there seem to be trolls lurking around the bridges of academia, too.

research AND writing | method AND narrative

It’s no particular anniversary; I just got curious to look back at the HCE posts since we launched the blog last November. No great surprise: elements of “digital humanities” feature prominently. But “digital humanities” is a pretty big umbrella and in this case it occludes more than it describes. Experiments with technology permeate everything we do as readers, writers, teachers, scholars.

The technology changes rapidly, so we’re all figuring this out together, finding new tools, working out how to use them, and when. For a historian, these changes might mean access to archival sources without traveling, as the result of many digitization projects; or access to information that is searchable and sortable as data; or new ways of collaborating; or new ways of disseminating our finished work. (These changes also mean alternative ways to inform, provoke and assess our students, an arena that is certainly being explored widely in the academy, but hasn’t yet received attention from the HCE collective.)

As dramatic as these changes in research process and communication/distribution are, I wonder about how fundamentally technology is changing the discipline of history, and whether or not we want it to.

Does Information want to be free?

Last week, I had the fortune of spending an afternoon with Peter Brush, Vanderbilt University’s Reference and History Librarian. We discussed how Open Access (the emerging culture of online free-of-charge access to scholarly materials such as journals, databases and teaching materials) could affect historians and the way we produce and consume knowledge.

The Access Principle, by John Willinsky (Read this book for free at MIT Press)

The debates surrounding Open Access reach beyond the obvious issues of affordable access to more information for a greater number of scholars. The expansion of this movement carries philosophical, economic, and political ramifications that affect historians as much as or more so than free access to the latest field journal or database.

Open Access isn’t free, of course. There are costs related to web-hosting and peer review, and the costs are distributed differently. This makes Open Access an economic issue every University grapples with in some way or another, as funds are reshuffled between departments and libraries to accommodate these changes.

Making Publics: Social Networking, Sustainability and the Future in Digital Humanities

In anticipation of its final conference, taking place at McGill from March 18 – 20, 2010, I thought it might be useful to say a few words about the technologically innovative Making Publics (MaPs) project as it has unfolded over the past five years.

Beginning in 2005 and funded through a Social Science and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) Major Collaborative Research Initiatives grant, the project has brought together academics from an array of disciplines in order to ‘illuminate the artistic, intellectual, scientific, religious and political culture of Britain and Western Europe’ and to develop ‘an interdisciplinary methodology’ through a commitment to accessibility and innovative modes of learning.   

Epiphany on the River Jordan

Two weeks ago I took a trip to the Judean desert, to the place where the River Jordan meets the Dead Sea. January 18th is the day when eastern Christian churches observe the Epiphany, and pilgrims from all over the world flock to this location, to take part in a religious procession and a ceremonial baptism in the river. Orthodox churches have been celebrating the Epiphany on this date since the sixteenth century, but there were also times when it was held around Easter. It had been raining heavily the night before, and in the desert that can only mean one thing – massive floods. The creeks and brooks that lay dry all year are filled with gushing brown water, turning the northern shores of the Dead Sea into a muddy mess. With some apprehension, we made our way south towards Qasr al-Yahoud, the spot where, as tradition has it, Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist, and the Holy Spirit was revealed in the form of a dove, giving this day its name – epiphany (revelation).

Out in the Academy: Why Teach Queer History?

This One's For You California (Wikimedia Commons)

Recent events at the American Historical Association’s annual conference in San Diego have raised questions about how we as historians consider homosexuality and LGBTQ issues, both in our own research and teaching as well as the professional as a whole. At the AHA, queer scholars, scholars of sexuality, allies, and other supporters expressed concerns about events taking place at the Manchester Grand Hyatt because of its association with Douglas Manchester, a prominent supporter of Proposition 8, which banned same-sex marriage in California. Many observed a boycott of the hotel, finding accommodation elsewhere and avoiding panels at the Hyatt. Others participated in mini-conference sessions specifically addressing LGBTQ issues and histories.

Google v. China

Over the last two weeks, along with many others in both the American academic, business, and human rights communities, I have been riveted by the ongoing show-down between Google and the Chinese government. The details of the case remain contentious, but around January 12th, the internet search engine company reported a series of internet break-ins, which they later claimed to have originated in China. Given the level of sophistication involved in the attack, and an alleged attempt to access the email accounts of known dissidents, Google suspected the involvement of the Chinese government and threatened to shut down its operations in China. Since the announcement, Chinese government officials have strongly denied their involvement. Far from backing down, in the last couple of days, the Chinese government has taken a hardline against both Google and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton’s call for a “transparent” investigation into the cyber-attacks. Google’s bold move has set the foreign business community in China into a tailspin and ignited online discussions.

The Ethics of Oral History

When conducting oral history, what should the interviewer’s highest priority be, gathering information for their own research or the well-being of their informants? My previous post raised the question of what ethical responsibility oral historians have to share transcripts of interviews with their narrators. In part, my concern about receiving truly informed consent from my informants and defining what such consent constitutes is related to another question about the ethical practice of oral history, albeit a more fundamental one. Is using someone’s testimony to make career progress exploitation? Or by giving wider voice to someone’s story is oral history empowering to narrators? This dilemma relates back to the purpose of the research, which for some historians is very politically charged and related to advocacy whereas for others is more academic, primarily an attempt to understand a vexing historical question. This is not to deny the very real political context of all research, only to observe that it is more explicit in some cases. To compliment this discussion about oral history as exploitation, I plan a future post on the equally fraught understanding of oral history as empowerment.

The blogging life

Three years ago I outed myself as a blogger–to both the folks in my department and beyond, as I started using my real name online in places that could link back to my identity as a graduate student. Prior to that, my blogging was something that I did on the side, pseudonymously. However, for a variety of reasons, it seemed time to meld my online and real-life identities.

Two years ago I wrote a post on my History blog about the “seduction” of the blogging life, and how it was an asset to my work as a scholar. I explained,

Yet what I find the most seductive about blogging is the continued experimentation. It’s a challenge to find something new to say every day and to find new ways of saying it (especially when my life is just a mundane mix of grad school, parenting, and spiritual seeking–it’s hard to imagine more boring story fodder). So I have to think about how best to ‘hook’ my readers, how to provoke a response, and how to write with such skill that my posts are linked by larger blogs.

Digital Humanities: Innovation and Sustainability

With an ever increasing number of digitisation projects being undertaken across academic institutions worldwide, it is essential that some degree of co-ordination and inter-awareness be promoted, at the national level at the very least. This can help to ensure inter-operability and to inform researchers about the latest developments relevant to their work. Ireland’s answer to this need is the Digital Humanities Observatory (DHO). The DHO describes itself as ‘Ireland’s window on humanities e-scholarship’, and even a quick glance at its website is enough confirm the value of peering through the glass.

Disappearing Documents: Guerilla Preservation in Latin America (An interview with Dr. Jane Landers and Pablo Gomez of Vanderbilt University, and Dr. Mariza de Carvalho Soares of Fluminese Federal University, Rio de Janiero.)

What happened to the oldest surviving document in the Western hemisphere?

Matrimo de Espańo, 1584-1622, from the project courtesy of Jane Landers

No one is certain where exactly it is now, but thanks to the NEH-funded historical preservation project entitled “Ecclesiastical Sources and Historical Research on the African Diaspora in Brazil and Cuba,” anyone in the world with internet access can look at the Cuban matrimonial record from 1584.

Or rather, digital photographs of it.

1688 and the Problem of Modernity

If there is one quality that I admire more than any other among historians, it is the willingness to ruffle a few feathers in the pursuit of a strongly held conviction. For an early modernist to do this makes me especially proud, considering that it is tempting to say that some of our conferences have resembled an exercise in kicking dead equines. But every so often someone manages to find a topic with a bit of kick left. Steve Pincus does just that – and more – by considerably raising the bar for both research and argument in his book,  1688: The First Modern Revolution. So now that all of the critics have weighed in, where does this volume stand, both on its own and in respect to other works on the so-called “Glorious Revolution?”

This is partly a trick question as, in many respects, Pincus’ book isn’t really about a “Glorious Revolution” at all. Instead, it draws our attention to two competing visions of modernity – one absolute and territorial, the other contractual and commercial – that sought to establish themselves through largely violent means. Indeed, one of the best aspects of the book is that it does a masterful job at representing James VII and II as an active, if disingenuous, participant in attempting to realize an absolutist state modeled on Louis XIV’s France.  But the book’s central claim – that this episode represents the first modern revolution – is both contentious and problematic despite a well-supported argument about its global repercussions.

Planting a family tree

Star of David in Trei Ierarchii church, Iasi, Romania (Wikimedia Commons)

In elementary school, every Israeli child is given an assignment to map out their family tree. I remember this assignment well – interviewing my grandparents about their families, and drawing a large tree where I glued on their photos, as well as those of my mom and dad, my brother, and myself. I also remember how different the projects of the other students were, since Israeli families originate from practically every country – from Poland and Romania in my case, to North Africa, India and the Middle East. The assignment was a relative success, since my grandparents were able to remember the names of their own grandparents, thus expanding my tree to include five generations. Few if any other record survives of my great-great-grandparents, since most of them were killed during the holocaust, but the subject had always remained in my mind.

Susan Ferber’s Publishing Tips

As if writing a dissertation didn’t produce challenges enough of its own, before you’re done people will start to ask questions about your intentions to publish the work as a book. Graduate students at UC Irvine were fortunate to have Susan Ferber, the New-York based history editor at Oxford University Press offer a generous and demystifying introduction to the process of scholarly publishing.

Ms. Ferber’s straightforward and humorous approach kept her audience in their seats; her willingness to entertain questions meant the event exceeded its scheduled  time. In an academic landscape with ever increasing demands on our time, the practical mechanics of publishing too often are overlooked. But even with late afternoon Southern California traffic looming, a lively conversation kept people engaged.