One of the reasons I wanted to take this class is because I am someone who has not entered the 21st Century enthusiastically about technology. I do have a computer but only since last summer high speed internet. I do have a digital camera but I often forget to bring it with me. I don’t have a cellphone. I certainly understand the appeal of gadgets but for me to spend my money and time with them I like to see a purpose. This week’s readings were a helpful introduction for me to see the wide variety of ways people share information. I enjoyed spending time looking at some of the historical walking tours and what people wrote in Were You There?. I have to admit to thinking, “Really?!?” at the Whole Foods “trip” button on Gowalla.
Category: Reading Reflections
Were You There?
As I looked through the different websites assigned this week I kept going back to the “Were you There.” I loved going through all the comments from people attending Elvis Pressley concerts or describing there experiences during the racially charged sixties. There was a part of me though that questioned the authenticity of the authors. I’m not sure how or if they verify the submitted stories. I’ll have to check into that further.
Game Changer
“But I want you to think,” was life-changing for me. When I started at Boise State I did not waiver in my decision to do the M.A. over the M.A.H.R. degree because I have always wanted to research, teach, and reside firmly in the academic world. However, this class has been fascinating and eye-opening for me. I have always had a hard time committing myself to the idea that all knowledge is useful (who really needs to read a book about Lincoln’s doctor’s dog’s sex life? Brandie will at least get this inside joke.) Public history has helped me to focus more on what I think is important; which for me is the application and use of history. I think those in the public history field really grasp the importance of this and those in more of university-related history could improve their approach to presenting history by adopting some of the tenets of public history. I like the idea of considering what other people need or want to know about history rather than trying to fill a tiny, obscure niche.
I also loved the article on the “7 apps.” I wanted to visit these places just so that I could use these apps. They focused on interesting topics that would have broad appeal for many tourists. I also liked the slightly different take each app had of using historical maps or narrated explanations. Sometimes I think that technology can detract from an experience, but the apps in these articles only seemed to enhance an already interesting historical event.
Thoughts
The point of applied historical research is to involve the public. Not only to involve the public, but to get them as excited about history as the historian. I agree with the article “But I want you to think” that all three parts, entice, inform and invoke are need to make a successful website. The part that I find difficult is how you entice your audience. Should we do “focus-group testing, user testing, and marketing”? That is difficult to for digital humanities and I dislike the idea of marketing the idea. History is not product to be sold. Using students a test group is an obvious answer, but the general public is more than students. How do we get them involved? The “7 Way Mobile Apps are Enriching Historical Tourism” helped me see what kind of mobile applications are already available to the general public. While informative on the applications, I would like to know how much use these applications get. Are they made and hardly used, are they used by tourists, students, or a local public? A study on who is using the already available applications would open up which ones need more work or what is working best for the user.
In creating an application available for historical information, the last thing I want is a tourist walking downtown staring at their Smartphone rather than engaging with the landscape around them. I am not sure I quite understand the augmented reality concept, but I understand that we take the user out the current landscape to engage another. I see the comparative value for the audience, but the augmented reality game takes away the “think for yourself” part for me. I also dislike the idea that there is just one alternate landscape, for example, the “Civil War Augmented Reality Project” that all you to look back via “pay binoculars” to see Civil War landscape. Could that landscape have been used for anything else since the Civil War? What happened to the landscape during reconstruction, the roaring twenties, or in the era of the greatest generation?
“Haunts: Place, Play, and Trauma” takes an interesting angle to getting the public involved in places and finding the secret information on spaces and letting the user add to it. But I have to ask the question that is posed in Gowalla article “ok, so what does any of the have to do with educations?” The ideas in the Gowalla article are excellent. I think museums lack interaction with the visitor. Creating applications that not only engages the visitor, but also encourages going to other museums. This is excellent. These could give a much needed revival to museums if provided to the public. It would “market” to younger audience.
For the Play the Past website, I think the idea is great. My favorite part is it allows for
“guest authors” encouraging users to not only engage with history via games, but add their thoughts to it. As for the youtube music video, I loved it! I posted it on my facebook. The comments on the video were intriguing, several high school age students posted their history teachers should them this and debate had been raised about slavery. I think the mask of a username on a website may allow for these high school students to voice their thoughts that they may otherwise be afraid to speak in class in front of their peers. There is no way I can prove they were high school students, but their arguments and answers mirror that of a textbook. So maybe they are listening in class. 😉
What the user wants
I had fun playing around and reading all of the blogs in our homework this week, and getting to tell my husband that I was actually doing my homework playing with apps. Our first assignment about “But I want you to think,” was a nice piece to frame the whole discussion of using the Internet and multimedia projects as a fun way to learn. It showed that public history projects tow the line of what the user wants/needs, and what we think the information and services should be. The reading about the 7 apps enriching cultural tourism really reinforced this point, because it shows if you can create something that the user wants, you have their interest long enough for them to learn something (if that is your goal).
The only reading I found dissappointing, from my history background, was the “Haunts: Place, Play, and Trauma,” because of the fact that they were encouraging made up stories of places. This only makes me uncomfortable because the audience should know whether or not they are reading fiction, even if in some ways history is as made-up as fiction. From a user stand-point and a creative writing background, I loved this idea. So the fact that I didn’t like it was because of the internal battle that ensued.
To end this discussion of balancing what the user wants/needs, I think we need to make it fun, no matter what. That is probably why entering games into the mix of learning history is so appealing: it’s not dull or dry at all. The video “Too late to Apologize” brought this home; it was fun to watch, and I can’t help but have taken away iconic images/information, like the prases from the Declaration of Independence. I will also never forget the violin solo, and the rockin’ forefathers.
Nazis, Covanent, Reapers, Terrorists, Oh my…
If I had known video games could be brought within the fold of public history I would have entered the applied history program rather than the MA track. What makes video games valuable purveyors of cultural heritages/landscapes is their use of what might be termed the new social history paradigm. All of the games allude to above utilize what might be called a ‘bottom up’ approach to their gameplay narratives. In Medal of Honor the player goes through the game as a low-ranking enlisted man butchering nazis in WWII senarios like D-day (although in the newest Medal of Honor you play as either a US special ops soldier or as a terrorist).
In Halo the action shifts away from the earth’s past to an imagined community in the future. The player progresses through the game as the ‘master chief (he is so bottom up he doesn’t actually have a name),’ but can also play as the arbiter-a covanent elite. In Mass Effect the player goes through the game as commander sheperd, another fairly nondescript. The games cultural landscape is once again set in earths future as it is being attached by a race of alien machines known as the reapers. The game is quite pc and commander sheperd can be whatever race of gender the players whims dictate. Mass Effect also offers a valuabe lessen in multiculturalism as the player is part of a multi-species party.
Ultimately games offer players a valuable experience frolicking through imagined historical heritages. Games such as Mass Effect actually allow the player to make normative ethical choices that affect the games narrative. Unlike other forms of public history games are also very interactive. This makes them ideal as a platform to reach the public. Some types of games would be better than others at emmersing the player in cultural landscapes. Games such as the new Sims, which takes place in Medieval Europe, are ideal for exposing unsuspecting players to history. The day might soon dawn when the most important and influential public historians are programers.
Mobile Apps: Enriching? Yes. Limitations? Maybe.
I was amazed this week by the vast and seemingly unlimited opportunities social media can offer in respect to digital history projects. Many of the mobile applications explained in “7 Ways Mobile Apps are Enriching Historical Tourism” were ingenious in their ability to have dually tapped into the ever growing tech-savvy population and possess intriguing topics/content. As I was reading and exploring I could not help but ponder where they might be limited. I realized one limitation (in my opinion) when watching the video add for the Walking Cinema: Murder on Beacon Hill. As the heavy-eye-liner actress decides to go on the walking tour she is connected to her iPod the entire time. You don’t see her at any point in time communicate with another human being. Similarly, many of the app reviews (for all 7 apps) cite that it behooves the traveler to use the $2.99 app rather than bother with a guide or large groups. Reviews also cite you can set your own pace, take unlimited potty-breaks, and stop for shopping or lunch whenever it so pleases you. But my question is who are you meeting on this tour when you are by yourself, or perhaps, at best, with friends/family you already know? Some of the most enriching moments of historical exploration or travel are when you can share experiences with a total stranger. (This is probably why I found “Ourkive” amazing.)
Ironically, the Murder on Beacon Hill review reveals the app “can encourage you to see things and meet people you wouldn’t normally see or meet.” I would be interested to know how they went about this because
- Heavy-eye-liner actress doesn’t seem to meet anyone. And
- As my group and I develop our own mobile history project this will be an issue to address.
My point is while mobile applications are without a doubt the new wave of public history, I think these apps need to make a conscious effort to incorporate a human element. In a society that is all about facebook posts, text messages and crunk badges, actually speaking, face to face to an actual human is important.
Playing with Palimpsests
I was particularly intrigued by the idea of “landscape as palimpsest” outlined in the “Augmenting Archaeology” blog entry. However (and maybe I took it the wrong way), the blog’s author seemed to make light of how historians go about reading landscapes as palimpsests, suggesting that “playing” landscapes would help tell a better story of the history of the landscape than merely “reading some aspect of past activity in the landscape.”
Telling stories about the history of landscapes is what historians do already as landscape readers—whether it be through analysis of geographical landscapes, architectural landscapes, or even intellectual “landscapes.” Good historians are constantly “annotating and crafting competing visions” of these landscapes, and rarely stop at stating pure facts as the author seems to imply. The art of history is interpretation—analyzing not just how, but why, physical or intellectual/cultural changes have occurred from past to present—and I think the profession is pursuing this purpose successfully.
That said, there is no reason why interpreting (or “playing”) landscapes could not be done through games as well as scholarship, and augmented reality is a compelling way to do this. The whole “Play the Past” concept and blog reminded me of my childhood forays into the Oregon Trail computer game, which was perhaps the inception of my interest in American western history. While my ten-year-old self probably focused primarily on trying to get my oxen to survive perilous river fordings, I do recall being able to empathize with the plights of the pioneers and learning—albeit superficially—about the landscapes of the nineteenth-century American west.
Cultural Landscapes II
One of the chapters I found interesting was chapter 16 and how Latinos in East Los Angeles utilized their porches and front yards as extensions to their homes as outdoor living spaces. Parents sat on chairs or couches on the front porch while kids played on the grass, or played ball in the street. The fence or street in front of the house was also used to sell handcrafted items, or display items for a yard sale. Regardless of race, I’m sure all of us have used our outdoor spaces in some way that chapter 16 described.
I also thought, chapter 16 could be expanded into another book or text about how different ethnic groups or cultures live and use their homes. This could also be done based on socioeconomic status, environmental factors, and a variety of other topics. I also thought about my community I grew up in Hacienda Heights in southern California. My community was predominately Chinese, and I learned a great deal about Chinese culture. Many of my Chinese neighbors had Koi ponds in their front yards, and when I was younger I would help them feed their fish. Some of my neighbors also had traditional Chinese gardens with ornate bridges and pathways.
In Chinese households, Feng Shui is very important and there are many rules that should be followed in order to have a harmonious life that balances: health, wealth, and happiness. Some areas of importance include; the direction of your front door, the direction your house faces, the importance of colors, and Feng Shui symbols. The 5 elements are also important to include: water, wood, fire, earth and metal. It’s all about having the right balance of chi which will make your home and your life harmonious. It is also important to live near a Buddhist temple, when possible, and in Hacienda Heights we had one of the largest temples in the state. The closer your residence was to the temple the better, because if you lived within 1 mile, then you live on holy land.
In Hacienda Heights, there is a very large Buddhist temple, HSI Lai Temple. I tried to include a picture, but it didn’t work for some reason…
I’ve visited the temple about 3 times, and there are several gardens, and temples in which to pray. There is also a 20 foot Buddha statute in one of the temples. Many of my classmates and friends taught me about Chinese holidays, religious ceremonies and how to speak a few words in Mandarin. So my community was more about fried rice rather than the “corn lady” in East L.A.
Addicted to Convenience
I wish that my life resembled James Rojas’ description of his neighborhood with “front yards [that] are not anonymous spaces upholding a single community identity, but rather exuberant vignettes of the individual owner’s lives” (281). However, I realized that I do not have a lot of firsthand experience with front porches that reveal, rather than conceal the personality of those that live their or neighborly chats over the fence.
Unfortunately chapter seventeen better reflected my life this weekend. I spent Friday night and all Saturday in class while my husband and children were away for the weekend. Without anyone to cook for me or to cook for I decided to indulge in my two favorite things of late: McDonald’s Maple and Fruit Oatmeal and Starbucks’ Salted Chocolate Hot Chocolate for dinner on a lonely Saturday night. Yes, I went to TWO drive-thrus in one twenty minute excursion. Pathetic. I realized how entrenched the drive-in/drive-thru culture is, especially in Boise where city planners anticipated widespread car use. As J. B. Jackson argued, I am a “mobile consumer” who would “think nothing of traveling to a supermarket that has better parking than one located two miles nearer” (297). This chapter on mini-malls really expressed the power of landscape to make changes in our culture. Seeing the progression of house-call making doctors to the variety that allow you to get a strep culture and make copies at Kinko’s on your lunch break really revealed to me how a profession like medicine that used to dwell in impressive and large office buildings, aloof from potential patients, dropped to a mini-mall where high school kids with no formal training can be working at the store next door. This point especially hit me when contrasted with Rojas’ East L.A. neighborhood where the landscape fostered positive development with personality and the feel of community.
Next weekend I will install a lawn ornament (I am leaning toward blue and orange flamingos that I hope will communicate my intense school spirit and love of environmental history) instead of the hitting up the drive-thru.