History, Relevance and Technology
During the Wilson County Fair last year, as I displayed a handful of stone-ground cornmeal to a middle-aged couple in the Livesay Grist Mill, I was taken aback by a question: “Aren’t you are our computer guy?” Having already spoke to dozens of people that evening about the ages-old process of using falling water to do our agricultural heavy lifting, I hadn’t immediately recognized them as customers from my day job. What caught me off guard wasn’t necessarily my failure to recognize them right away, but rather the relative shock in his voice. After some friendly catching up, I asked him why he was shocked that I was volunteering as a demonstrator at the Grist Mill. He answered “I just never imagined you’d be so into this old kinda stuff.”
The manner in which we engage history must be seen as a technological process.
That particular conversation has come to define how I approach my interest in history; I see technology as a human process of development. When we look at the technological present as just another step in the process of how we go about the business of living life, we don’t see the wood, stone and metal of the past as being so far apart from our contemporary plastic, glass and concrete. And while we could spend endless hours exploring how this approach to history could play out in our exploration of specific case examples (Which I sincerely hope we do here on The Front Porch!), I only bring it up now to make the following argument: The manner in which we engage history must, like all things, be seen as a technological process. In short, the way we go about history is changing, and that is okay.
The very fact that you and I are having this conversation through our screens, across miles of cable, humming at the speed of electricity on a social media internet platform speaks to the reality that our approach to the world writ large has changed. Yet somehow, when we discuss history in general, many of us seem staid in our efforts to see it through the technological lenses at our disposal. And while both the unfamiliarity and discomfort many of us have with new digital technologies are obviously factors, I have often pondered if there isn’t a deeper disconnect at play here. After all, when we see log cabins our first thoughts are rarely of computers. Which is why I am suggesting that it is important for the people working to engage the public with history to learn to divide their experience of a place like Fiddlers Grove into two distinct approaches: the first being an unencumbered immediate personal experience, and the second being a purposeful exploration of how such things can be effectively shared with others.
Seeing as though we actively work to foster the appreciation of history in our community, we obviously first had a love of history ourselves. As such, the first of the two ways to approach Fiddlers Grove is focused on our own personal experiences. We should always place our own interest in history first and foremost, placing it above our work to bring it to others. While in the next paragraph I’m going to ask you to add an additional burden onto your experience of history, right now I’m speaking to your original interest in Fiddlers Grove. This is no call to selfishness: this is a suggestion to constantly renew your passion for history. We have so many tools, talents and treasures at our disposal when it comes to preserving, developing and promoting Fiddlers Grove, yet the most effective force we have to engage people is your authentic passion.
When we see log cabins our first thoughts are rarely of computers.
With the second way to approach Fiddlers Grove, we are going to need to develop an almost knee-jerk reaction to our own personal experiences: we need to be able to translate our own immediate passion into an shareable experience for the benefit of others. This is precisely where digital technologies will bring entirely new perspectives into how we go about history. The sphere of mutual influence that a place like Fiddlers Grove can affect has been traditionally limited to those people that either live nearby or come for a brief visit. However, through the use of internet platforms such as YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Medium and others, the amazing treasure we have in Fiddlers Grove can be experienced (not just seen) by millions of people around the world. The only obstacle that stands between that potential reality and our present situation is our reluctance to learn, utilize and embrace the technologies already at our disposal: our computers, internet connections, cameras and smartphones. The time has come for us to begin creatively sharing our passions with others through a relentless commitment to documenting our efforts.
As technological steps have been made in the past, it took a practical, but forward-thinking kind of person to convey just how powerful the newer technologies could be when used effectively. Case in point: the well-known idiom “A picture is worth a thousand words.” This quote goes back over a century in journalism, when it was probably first uttered by a newspaper editor trying to increase sales. But as we look into a future of internet-enabled video content and instantaneous knowledge on demand, we must now ask ourselves the following question:
