Perhaps historians don’t cry because they have little emotional connection with their subject.
Perhaps from years of logic, analysis and rational study we have trained ourselves against such purposeless reactions.
It was a scrumptious bit of irony that the name of the author defending nostalgia was Spock. On the other hand, in Star Trek VI, I believe it was that Spock actually seemed to develop an illogical response. Throughout the series, Spock served as both the logical informant and defender of human emotion. In In Defense of Nostalgia Dan Spock encourages the historian to remain in contact with that emotional connection to his subject, while also informing the public. He encourages museum workers (and by extension, I would suggest all public historians) to be both informant to the patron and defender of the his seeming irrational behavior. So, now that I have outed myself as a nerd…
So, why don’t we historians cry? Simply because it is illogical? Does emotion not have a place in a venerable institution that is the museum? Are we torn in the middle, knowing always that our reactions would be emotional if not for our careful analysis? Is it that internal conflict that keeps the tears at bay? Do we know so much about the past that we have, as Spock suggested, “Cauterized something in our own souls?” What might happen if a historian actually showed some emotion in a presentation? Should we not be moved to tears at the death of six million of a single ethnic group? Or the brutal torture of humanity that was slavery? Should we not despise the part of our own being that fears it might do the same in the same context? Yet it seems that these troubling emotions that we face, we tend to transform into anger and direct that toward the audience, as if they are the only beings capable of such atrocity. For me, I feel this is often the case. Somehow it is easier to believe that historians are wizards, somehow above that class of non-historical muggles with their absurd and uneducated approach to history, as if a story their grandpa told them could approach the edifice that is my own knowledge. But then I consider, if grandpa’s story of his childhood is not history, what is it? Is it fiction? Call it what you will, but I actually want to relate this to my current project which is oral history.
Historians talk about convergence of evidence, as if their job is more appropriately associated with criminal justice than humanities. Oral historians are repeatedly judged as lesser historians because they simply listen to stories, rather than do real historical research. This is a discussion in every oral history book I have read. The second discussion is a review of what history is. The difference between classical academic history and oral history is a matter of interpretation of the philosophy that drives the historian. It comes down to a basic understanding of whether the individual belongs in history or not. Spock touched on this issue too saying that history is discussed “as groups, as social classes” etc, and “rarely as individuals.” Yet the oral historian is entirely concerned almost exclusively with the individual. Most museum goers are not likely to tell their own story in terms of a social class, they will tell it in terms of what I will call the self-sun, the idea that history revolves around and acts in relation to me. Grandpa’s stories are a manifestation of my own identity. The activities that he took part in were not driven by a careful analysis of the circumstances, but his emotional reaction to stimuli. Likewise, his stories will be tainted with that emotion. Is that not history?–the telling of emotional reactions.
People want a museum where they can go to remember–a place they can experience, often emotionally, what their part is in this story of humanity. It is embarrassing for me to emotionally respond when my guide is a slate-faced, gray scale classifier. I at least want a place where my stories matter. I discovered recently, in searching through old Boise directories (for an entirely different reason) that my great-grandfather owned a business in a storefront on a street I drive nearly every day. The building is no longer there, but there is a story I have now. That is important to me. I would imagine that others are trying to find their connections as well. A museum, or a historical interpreter that cannot emotionally connect a person in relation to the history he is telling has failed to provide a useful experience for his audience. It would be great to have people who have gone through a museum provide a short description of what and how they connected, or if they did not connect. I have an inkling that most of their responses would be filled with “I” statements, and/or “My father told me…” or “An old family story goes…”. I bet few people would every give a dispassionate academic analysis of the old stuff in the museum.
Historians must find a way to relate emotionally, or at least provide a space for emotional reaction and connection within their discipline. Nostalgia must be made more central, stories must be told, people must be heard.