This week we read The
Wages of History: Emotional Labor on Public History's Front Lines by Amy
Tyson. Prior to reading this book, Dr. Lowe warned us to treat ourselves to
something nice after we finished the book. Now I understand; the book was definitely a downer which put our labor as public historians into perspective. Tyson's case study
of a living history site, Historic Fort Snelling in Minnesota, was all about
the business end of public history. Tyson borrowed some methods from
anthropology and practiced participant observation to write a book from the
perspective of a living history employee - similar to a historical reenactor,
but they would prefer to be called historical "interpreters". (47). She decided to focus on the experience of
working in the "culture industry", and urged historians to give
dignity to the labor of these cultural workers. Tyson's main points were to
explain why these workers were not treated with the same reverence as academic
historians as well as shaping the reader's perspective from historic site to work site. She explained interpreter
agency and consent, rewards and costs of emotional investment, and interpreting
painful histories.
"Those drawn to work in the nonprofit sectors of the cultural economy are hungry for opportunities to connect with people, to find outlets for creative expression, and to make a positive difference in the world, so that when they find a job in today's economy that pays them -however little- to do this kind of meaningful work, they hold tight, and feel like one of the lucky ones." (5).
Tyson explains that cultural work is often feminized and
unappreciated. These workers - at museums, historic sites, house museums, etc.
- are likely part-time or seasonal
workers, paid minimum wage or just above, do not receive benefits or paid
vacation, and are not in guaranteed positions. Tyson argues, and I agree, that
these cultural workers are providing a public service. The people who are
willing to work in these conditions because of a passion for history are often
the people who are able to connect
with visitors in the most meaningful ways. And yet they are treated as interchangeable,
low-wage workers. I believe this difference in treatment can relate to class as
well as the workplace. There is a noticeable tension between PhD students and
MA students... is public history as valid a pursuit as academic history? I feel similar to the
workers at the Fort who felt the need to justify their emotional investment in
their jobs by articulating the cultural value of their work. (95). It is unfortunate
that there is a stigma that cultural workers don't have "a real job". I feel that tension all
the time when people ask me what I'm doing in graduate school ("ohhhh...you're
pursuing liberal arts..."). But what keeps me going through this process,
besides my classmates, is knowing that the emotional fulfillment I get from public
history is priceless. This is exactly how the workers in Minnesota feel. They
take the good with the bad, and they believe the fulfillment they get out of
working in the culture industry overrides the low pay and seasonal work.
Although there are many instances of meaningful intellectual
and emotional interactions with visitors, there are also times when the workers
at the Fort felt emotionally drained. They expressed that mentally
time-traveling every day brought on interesting feelings concerning gender
relations and racism. Interpreters had difficulties talking about slavery with
the guests, as well as interacting with one another in costume from time to
time. They stated that they generally felt uncomfortable while talking about
slaves at the Fort. There were problems with interactions between interpreters
playing the roles of men and women, and wealthy characters with servants. There
were times when the interpreters' feelings were hurt in these power struggles,
and the was a fine line between being in character, and out of character. The
interpreters sometimes felt that they had lost a sense of themselves while in
character. (105, 110-111). I can only imagine the mental exhaustion after
playing someone else all day, especially when the views of the person you are
playing differ from your own. Many of the problems that the interpreters face
in Minnesota are faced by museum workers all over the country. I agree with
Tyson when she says that bringing dignity to those who support the culture
industry is a collective effort, but she didn't quite outline ways for us to do
so. Giving these workers "a seat at the table" is one way to include
them in managerial decisions, but at the end of the day there does need to be a
system for training and managing workers.
Personally, I think living history is
a bit much sometimes. It's wonky to me as an adult to be in a room alone with someone
in eighteenth century garb. I would rather let the objects speak for themselves. I am conflicted on living
history sites because on one hand, sometimes interpreters are very knowledgeable
and really want to spark meaningful conversations
with guests - exactly what I love about public history. But on the other, many
times that type of training is not carried out at sites. What happens when an
interpreter gives incorrect historical information to guests? I was very
uncomfortable in the Betsy Ross House when we walked into a room with a Betsy
interpreter. However, this book showed me the investment and labor that goes
into these roles, and I have a new appreciation for interpreters. I would have
loved to have read some more opinions
of the management workers, as well as some upper-level employees of the
Minnesota Historical Society. Regardless of this, I think the take-away lesson
here is that although there are many problems faced by those who work within
public history, there are larger rewards of emotional fulfillment to be had.
Let's hope for my sake that this is true.
This couple is described as "Living History", how does this compare to Fort Snelling?
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