My New Book!

My New Book!
My New Book!

Thursday, July 27, 2017

July 27, 2017: Talks and Events: The Harlem Renaissance for BOLLI



[On Tuesday July 25th, I’ll be talking to the Central Massachusetts Genealogical Society on the topic of “Remembering the Salem Witch Trials: The Limits and Possibilities of Public History.” So this week I wanted to highlight five recent talks and events I’ve given or been part of—please share your own experiences in comments!]
On two unexpected connections I made in a talk for prospective adult learners.
I’ve written a great deal in this space about my very happy, nearly a decade old link to the Adult Learning in the Fitchburg Area (ALFA) program, and in this post I highlighted my new but evolving connection to BOLLI, the Brandeis University Lifelong Learning program. I’ll be leading my first BOLLI study group (pairing historical ethnic writers with contemporary writers, with novels by Charles Chesnutt and David Bradley as the centerpiece) this fall, but earlier this month had the chance to give a lecture on three icons of the Harlem Renaissance as part of a BOLLI recruitment event. The program has been developing closer ties to the Waltham community, and this event offered a brunch and information session for more than eighty Waltham seniors and prospective BOLLI members. The program director invited me to give the event’s keynote lecture, and I decided to talk about W.E.B. Du Bois, Nella Larsen, Langston Hughes, and what we can learn from some of their pivotal moments and texts for our own moment and culture.
While of course I had a strong initial sense of much of what I wanted to highlight and discuss in that talk, I tried as always to remain open to things I might find or ideas I might come to in the process of planning and writing the lecture. For example, I knew I wanted Du Bois’s responses to the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 to be my focal moment for him, but in the process of researching that section really read in full his 1930 address to the Searles High School (Great Barrington, MA) alumni gathering for the first time. Du Bois had grown up in Great Barrington, and was very fond of its Housatonic River, which by this time was nearly abandoned and dangerously polluted. Du Bois used the 1930 address to make the case for cleaning up and reclaiming the river, but also—as the speech’s stunning last few paragraphs exemplify—to make a broader case about the role and importance of rivers in American communities. I don’t think we can read his last sentence—“And so I have ventured to call the attention of the graduates of the Searles High school this bit of philosophy of living in this valley, urging that we should rescue the Housatonic and clean it as we have never in all the years thought before of cleaning it, and seek to restore its ancient beauty; making it the center of a town, of a valley, and perhaps—who knows?—of a new measure of civilized life”—and not think about what he and his peers were hoping to accomplish in the Harlem Renaissance, and what we desperately need in 2017 America as well.
Du Bois’s speech was also deeply concerned with another topic to which I tried to connect my BOLLI lecture: the sometimes tenuous, almost always fraught, and always always vital links between a place and its histories. Thinking of my audience of Walthamites, I decided to start the talk by highlighting my own evolving understanding of my hometown (for the last 4.5 years), using in particular an interesting sign that greets drivers as they enter the city on a few different main roads: “Welcome to Waltham: America’s History is Our History.” I think there’s a lot of truth to that, as the posts in this January 2015 series sought to highlight. But the sign isn’t the city’s history itself, of course—it’s a representation of, a reflection on, perhaps most exactly an argument about, that history, and thus tells us as much about the present as it does about the past. The same could be said about the Harlem Renaissance’s engagements with African American, African, and American history, of course—and, for that matter, about my lecture’s engagements with all those questions. I won’t pretend that I provided answers to any of those complex issues in the talk, but it was fun to think in these ways about the city that I, these audience members, and BOLLI share.
Last event recap tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Events or experiences you’d highlight? I’d love to hear about them!

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

July 26, 2017: Talks and Events: The Stowe Prize



[On Tuesday July 25th, I’ll be talking to the Central Massachusetts Genealogical Society on the topic of “Remembering the Salem Witch Trials: The Limits and Possibilities of Public History.” So this week I wanted to highlight five recent talks and events I’ve given or been part of—please share your own experiences in comments!]
On two of the many inspirations I took from Bryan Stevenson’s Hartford remarks.
In early June, I had the great good fortune to attend the 2017 Stowe Prize gala and dinner, where the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center’s semiannual Prize for Writing for Social Justice was presented to Bryan Stevenson for his book Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. (I’m not sure there could be a more pitch-perfect trifecta of writers, public scholars, and activists than the last three Stowe Prize recipients: Stevenson, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and Michelle Alexander.) The entire event was one of the most inspiring evenings I’ve ever spent, from the location (in a tent erected between the Stowe Center and the Mark Twain House, in Hartford’s historic Nook Farm area) to every single person with whom I had the chance to chat (such as Emily Waniewski, formerly a Stowe Center staff member who is now the Programming Director for Hartford Performs; or Katherine Kane, the Stowe Center’s tireless Executive Director). But most inspiring of all were Stevenson’s remarks, first in an interview session and then at the dinner itself, and I wanted to highlight here two standout ideas from his comments.
Stevenson spoke at length about two of the topics that are nearest and dearest to my heart: how much Americans do not remember our histories, particularly our darkest ones; and the vital need to counter that trend, collectively and comprehensively. Those two threads are the central subjects of my latest book, about which I had the chance to chat briefly with Stevenson at a reception prior to dinner. But Stevenson engaged more overtly with a side to these topics I hadn’t considered as fully: the accusation that focusing on such dark histories means “blaming” certain Americans for the horrors and oppressions of our past. His answer to that charge was the most clear and powerful I’ve ever heard: he argued that the goal here is not to blame anyone, but rather to liberate everyone. That is, we’re all limited by both these histories and (especially) our inability to remember and grapple with them; and thus if we can truly do those latter things, we will all be freed to move forward into a more unified and hopeful future as a result. I’ve certainly tried to argue for that optimistic, forward-looking goal of these historical engagements, but Stevenson’s emphasis on liberation was a new frame for me, and a hugely compelling and inspiring one. I look forward to incorporating it into my own future!
If that idea of Stevenson’s represented a new angle on a topic I’ve long considered, the other one I want to highlight here was more genuinely new to me. Stevenson was asked in the Q&A portion about whether he supports reparations for African Americans; he said that he does, but his argument for how that controversial idea could be enacted was one I hadn’t quite heard made in this way before. I won’t be able to do full justice to his ideas here, but the short version (which I hope I’m getting right) is that he supports a community building form of reparations, one that would apportion money to cities and communities (such as our host Hartford) and use it to build and strengthen civic resources such as the public schools, housing and neighborhoods, health care and social services, and so on. I grappled in this post with the idea of communal reparations in the form of educational and commemorative projects (which in that case had fallen frustratingly short of the promised support), and in this one with whether and how such ideas might be applied to African American reparations. But I’ll admit that I hadn’t really considered this other option for communal reparations, one that likewise goes beyond payments to individuals but considers a different and more immediate way of supporting and funding community initiatives. As with everything Stevenson said at this wonderful event, this idea gives me a lot to think about, and hope for.
Next event recap tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Events or experiences you’d highlight? I’d love to hear about them!

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

July 25, 2017: Talks and Events: The Gardner Museum



[On Tuesday July 25th, I’ll be talking to the Central Massachusetts Genealogical Society on the topic of “Remembering the Salem Witch Trials: The Limits and Possibilities of Public History.” So this week I wanted to highlight five recent talks and events I’ve given or been part of—please share your own experiences in comments!]
On two reasons to visit—and celebrate—a wonderful local museum.
On June 1st, I had the chance to talk about “Exclusion and Inclusion in American History and Culture” at the Gardner Museum in Gardner, Massachusetts. (Not to be confused with Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.) My talk was pretty similar to the one I gave on the same topics in February at the Monadnock Inn (although it has continued to evolve as I’ve moved into work on the book manuscript, of course), and so I would say many of the same things about the talk that I did in that hyperlinked post. As always, audience questions and thoughts helped me continue to develop and push my ideas, one reason why every talk I’ve ever given has been at least as meaningful for me as (I hope) it has been for the audience. But another reason is that with every talk I’ve ever given I have had the chance to connect with and learn about a new setting and space, and this time was no exception: I had never been inside the Gardner Musem before, and learned a lot about what makes this local museum an exemplary historical site.
I would contend that every town in America has local histories that are both worth exploring in their own right and have a great deal to tell us about American history more broadly; perhaps I’m biased, having lived most of my life in either Virginia or Massachusetts (the two states that most consistently fight for the title of “The Birthplace of America”), but I would bet that the same could be said of towns in any and every state. While local libraries and historical societies can certainly help us remember those histories, no institutions or organizations are better able to do so than local museums, and the Gardner Museum is a great case in point. Gardner is known as the “Chair City of the World” due to its extensive history of furniture manufacturing, and the museum does a wonderful job representing and engaging with the many histories and contexts for that defining attribute. But local museums should also challenge and extend our sense of a town and community, and the Gardner Museum does that on a number of levels, from a small but compelling Civil War collection to a fascinating new exhibit on the many different immigrant communities that have arrived in and helped constitute the town over the centuries. I’ve taught just down the road from Gardner for a dozen years, but I learned far more about the community in my brief time in the museum than I had in all those years at Fitchburg State.
Even the best museums can’t afford to stay static or complacent in our 21st century moment, however. Having had the chance to talk at length with Gardner Museum Coordinator (and talented artist) Marion Knoll before and after my lecture, I can attest that she and the museum are working hard to evolve in technological, digital, and interactive ways. The museum has recently added a compelling UniGuide audio tour to its collections, offering visitors a chance to experience and engage with all of the museum’s items and exhibits, and the histories and stories behind them, far more fully. Marion is also in the process of securing a couple of iPads for the museum, which would both allow all visitors to utilize the audio tour (even if they don’t have smartphones) and will make the addition of other digital and multimedia resources and options possible as well. Balancing the digital and virtual with the material and personal is never easy for any institution, but Marion and the Gardner Museum are working to do so thoughtfully, one more reason to celebrate and support this great museum.
Next event recap tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Events or experiences you’d highlight? I’d love to hear about them!