Month: March 2013

I found this week’s reading insightful and inspiring. Guillebeau paints a realistic presentation of life as a self-employed go-getter. I agree with the overall argument that the traditionally accepted “stable” jobs are quickly becoming the volatile option. State and Federal agencies constantly suffer budget cuts and non-permanent teaching positions are slowly replacing the tenured ones. Even if we choose a traditional job in the humanities, chances are it won’t pay as much as we hoped, so starting a side-project seems like a great option for extra income.

Chapter 10 really puts things in perspective. Like some of my classmates, I grew up in an an entrepreneurial house. Growing up, we (Step-dad, mom, myself and my brothers) operated a small landscaping and later general construction/remodeling business. I worked on both crews throughout high-school and college. Not wasting money and charging the customer appropriately were constant problems we had to face. It was the financial difficulties that pushed me away from entrepreneurialism towards what I thought was more stable institutional work. I still cringe at the thought of charging people for historical consultation. I don’t like taking money from people, I’d rather give away my help when I can. I think it takes skill and a right frame of mind to accurately assess what your services are worth and how much people are willing to pay you to do them.

Despite these trepidations, I think Guillebeau has some great examples of people making money doing what they love. The author shows how easy it is to start a micro-business. Obviously, since it is easy to start a modern small business, there will be many others out there with the same idea. As some of the old roadblocks become obsolete, new ones will appear. Regardless, self-employment is still an attractive option.

Although I have focused my academic career within the larger liberal arts curriculum, I do appreciate the private-sector world of business. Without this facet of the economy, life as we know it would cease to exist. Having said that, I also understand and appreciate the need for government-run institutions and I recognize their place within the larger economic and social context. The readings for this week reminded me that there is a very fine line between the private and public sector, however, more importantly I found myself questioning the role that history plays in terms of bridging this gap.

While most people assume that I am pursuing a degree in history in order to teach high school or in an effort to better prepare myself to fight for one of the very few history-related government positions, I am beginning to open my eyes to the possibilities of using historical methods and my own knowledge to meet the needs of small and large businesses alike. I believe that I can apply my skills as a historian (research, organization, communication, editing) to help businesses, regardless of their field or clientele, succeed. I believe that my interest in business, although limited, stemmed from my experience as a child. Growing up, my parents owned and operated their own insurance brokerage agency. My dad received his bachelor degree in business and my mom was a trained paralegal. They both put lots of time and energy into their business and enjoyed the flexibility associated with this lifestyle. Although the insurance and financial planning industry has the potential to be very lucrative, I never remember my parents talking about their business practices in those terms. My mom always said that “life insurance is about keeping promises.” It was always about the services she could provide to her clients to help them keep their promises to their business partners, friends and family. As I read The $100 Dollar Startup I realized that this people/relationship oriented approach was a central facet of Guillebeau’s argument, and one that I whole heartedly agree with.

Guillebeau described microbusiness as a “way of earning a good living while crafting a life of independence and purpose” (xiv). However, he also argues that the freedom (what we are looking for) and value (the way to achieve freedom) are key themes to successful microbusiness ventures. Within this context, value equates to “helping people.” So often the general public is quick to dismiss business ventures because of the stereotypical “money hungry” persona of big business. What Guillebeau reminds us, however, is that not all business ventures meet this stereotype, and that more importantly, successful businesses do not focus all of their energies on this money making aspect. As Guillebeau’s research suggests, many microbusinesses do not follow this model and instead fall in line with a “follow-your-passion” model. However, despite the external differences between the microbusiness industry and the field of history, it is obvious that the key to being successful in either requires a sincere understanding and appreciation of people and an ability to foster lasting relationships.

This week’s readings presented a thorough explanation of the approaches and methods used in historic preservation. Although some of the statements throughout the readings seemed like common knowledge, Tyler did bring up some interesting points about the process of nominating and establishing a site on the National Register of Historic Places. I found Tyler’s presentation of the “criteria” that sites need to meet in order to be considered for preservation quite useful. While I had some idea about the conditions and parameters that sites need to meet in order to be considered historically significant, I appreciated the clear and direct categorization of these requirements. I can see now see how listing and describing such criteria would greatly facilitate the national register program in selecting sites for preservation. While I found Tyler’s explanation of these standards sufficient, I do wish that he would have spent more time elaborating on the concept of “minimum levels of significance” and provided examples (139). In many regards this comment was quite troubling. I understood this situation to mean that established pro-preservation communities are destined to lose places of historic significance simply because by their own actions, they have set the bar too high. On the opposite end of the spectrum, communities that did not have the foresight to save historic buildings are now more likely to preserve places of “limited” historic significance. It seems like pro-preservation communities are being punished for their own efforts to preserve historic sites. It also seems likely that communities that lack a precedent for preservation might save more buildings now, but what are the odds that those buildings will retain their historic significance, especially in light of the fact that people outside of the immediate vicinity simply might be unaware of the presence of such sites because of the community’s anti-preservation past.

I also found the concept of “dedesignation” quite fascinating. The idea of removing the historic designation from a site was not part of my limited knowledge or previous assumptions about preservation. With so much attention given to criteria needed for designation and the long, drawn out process of designation, I wish that Tyler would have spent more time discussing the methods and processes that must be followed to dedesignate. Although he did list and explain the reasons that a site might be considered for dedesignation, he gave but one throw away sentence about the process. Tyler wrote “Though rare, the Secretary of the Interior may find it necessary to remove the designation of NHL or National Register…if they lose too much of their historic integrity” (152). Is this the only way for a site to lose designation? And if so, is this the appropriate process considering the lengthy means of being designated in the first place?

This week’s readings showed me just how much I do not know about historic preservation. It doesn’t help to begin with that my knowledge of the subject was very small to begin with. What caught my eye early on in chapter 4 was the Penn Central decision and how the author stated how “it forms the legal justification for most historic preservation ordinances” (pg. 123). To understand how historic preservation laws have both grown and stayed in existence is important for historians and many others also. We must understand how these ordinances and laws have grown and existed in order to both effectively use them and explain them to others, to the public. By this point, I think we all understand that the local and federal government is involved in historic preservation; they’ve both helped to create the laws, fund portions of historic preservation, and enforce them. The important fact that the Penn Central decision demonstrates to us is how the government is able to enforce these laws in the face of private ownership. From the Penn Central case we come to understand that historic preservation laws or ordinances are an appropriate tool used by cities to accomplish a government goal, in this instance preservation of a building. At the same time, this case shows the conflict between private owners of recognized historical sites and the government; especially private owners who fall under a more direct historical preservation ordinance. Both entities exist with their own goals in mind. One wants their revenue increased and the other wants a space saved for current and future generations. At the end they both managed to achieve their goals within the defined city ordinance. The Supreme Court upheld the historic preservation law which led to the owner of Penn Central to abandon one plan and institute another, which proved successful. Some people may view this as government stepping across some line and enforcing its will upon the private landowning citizen, but in this instance it was needed. The owner knew what kind of property Penn Central was and I am sure they were fully aware of the preservation ordinance in place; the only thing I do not know is when the station was designated as a historical site and who the owner was at the time. Penn Central demonstrates how grassroots support and historical preservation laws can help to save landmarks that are both representative of a people and time. If people look in Boise in the Basque block it’s evident. With both local support from the people and government funding/support, a piece of Boise culture has been both restored and preserved for everyone to enjoy.

This week’s readings further highlighted the fact that so much of what goes on in the world of historic preservation is subjective. There are certain buildings and sites that I am sure we would all agree are significant to our larger collective history but many of the others that are preserved in the name of history, culture or impact raise questions. While Elvis Presley’s contributions to music and culture are significant, is Graceland itself really that historically significant? If Elvis had never lived there, would it still be listed as a National Historic Landmark? Are there other places in Memphis that would mean more to society?

The guidelines for historic preservation seem to remain largely subjective to the whims of historical preservation boards and even the court system. The documents from the Boise Historic Preservation Committee kept coming to mind as I read more on this section…so much back and forth over window sill depth and the matter of an inch. Additionally, historic preservation raises the thorny issues of property rights and eminent domain.

I can see the importance of adding places like the early McDonald’s to the National Register as it represents a shift in American (and global) culture as we became a more mobile society and required businesses to adapt to the changing needs of the consumer. However, as Ryan pointed out, would we make the argument to preserve the Wal-Marts, Best Buys, etc. to illustrate the architecture and culture of 2013? So many of our purchases today are made over the internet. How do we accurately preserve that for posterity?

Historic preservation is vitally important for us to not only embrace and understand our past, but also to ensure that future generations have the opportunity to interact with history. The subjective nature of the field raises concerns, however.