Public History Student – Public History at UMass Boston

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Collections and Connections: Interning at the Shirley-Eustis House

By Rachel Hoyle

I have enjoyed nearly every single aspect of my internship this semester at the Shirley-Eustis House in Roxbury. My duties have led me to a much deeper understanding of how museums operate, from the mundane – hanging Christmas lights for an evening event – to the glamorous preparation of the house for use as a backdrop in multiple documentaries. The site’s Executive Director, Suzy Buchanan, has been gracious enough to let me trail behind her on Fridays, learning exactly how she does what she does.

However, when I use the word “nearly,” there is one particular aspect of my internship that has led to frustration: the lack of original sources to catalog for my developing web exhibit. Given that my exhibit will focus on enslaved Africans at the house, most of whom do not even have their names written in the historical record, it is not surprising that no artifacts of their existence have survived the past three hundred years. Add to that injustice the constantly changing structure and use of the Shirley-Eustis House (at one point it was even used as a “home for wayward girls”), and it is a recipe for the reproduction rather than the display of original artifacts.

The exterior of the Shirley-Eustis House in 1940, nearly forty years prior to its restoration. As is clear from this image, the house was in very bad condition at one point in time. Photo courtesy the United States National Archives.

It is not as if I am the first person studying African enslavement to encounter this problem. The staff at the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC), when collecting the first artifacts for display in the museum, ventured around the nation to track down relevant objects. Physical artifacts of African American history had often been either lost, passed around to various families, or stored in people’s attics for generations.[1] It was not negligence keeping these items stowed away – it was an instinct of preservation. Many African Americans certainly knew the value of these artifacts. Rex Ellis, Associate Director of Curatorial Affairs at the NMAAHC, recalled the moment he first came face to face with the Bible of infamous Black slave revolt leader Nat Turner. The woman who gifted it to the NMAAHC from its longtime place in her family’s Virginia home remarked that “It was time for it to leave here…because there’s so much blood on it.”[2] It was not until the NMAAHC’s founding that many of these artifacts were seen outside the confines of a single family or community, because there were few museums and historic sites willing or able to display them with a mindful acknowledgement of the artifacts’ troublesome and sometimes disturbing histories.

A page from revolutionary and slave revolt leader Nat Turner’s Bible, which is now permanently at the NMAAHC. Photo courtesy the National Museum of African American History and Culture.

Once it was clear that there would be a NMAAHC, Founding Director Lonnie Bunch began a groundbreaking campaign to collect these artifacts. Under his “Saving African American Treasures” initiative, Bunch deployed conservationists and other museum professionals around the United States in an effort to identify and save artifacts protected and preserved by generations of Black families. This campaign unearthed tens of thousands of artifacts for the NMAAHC; most were free-will donations made by people who decided their personal collections were finally able to be seen and respected in the manner they necessitated.[3] This distinction between a lack of material culture and a preservation of the very same culture is essential. How many other artifacts are still hidden in an attic, trunk, or basement because museums and historic sites have not been ready to display them respectfully? How many of those relate to the experiences of enslaved Africans?

These stories shaped my thinking as I considered the use of artifacts in my exhibit. Unfortunately, I did not have the time or resources that Bunch and the NMAAHC had to track down material culture relating directly to the house or its enslaved occupants. While there are surviving manuscripts and records of Black occupants of the Shirley-Eustis House, written documents alone do not hold the same meanings or have the same impact as three dimensional artifacts in an exhibition. These documents are most often from the perspective of white, wealthy colonists, while physical artifacts were used directly by enslaved people. The history documents and objects carry is the same, but the perspectives they offer on that history are vastly different. Even neighborhood oral histories, which provide us with engaging ideas of how the house’s story has evolved over time and connect us to individuals’ experiences and stories, have a different impact on visitors than material culture.

It was Suzy Buchanan, the house’s Executive Director, who inspired my ideas for how we might incorporate artifacts into an exhibition on the site’s African American histories. She first mentioned that a large iron washing kettle sat in the basement of the Shirley-Eustis House, right in front of the public restrooms. While it was not original to the house, she qualified, it could at least serve to illustrate some of the work likely performed by enslaved people in the eighteenth century. If that was reasonable, she said, I could include it in my exhibit. I could hardly contain my excitement. There was one part of my problem rather expertly solved.

Immediately I realized that the Shirley-Eustis House also had an unexpectedly large collection of eighteenth and nineteenth century historical tools and gardening equipment in the attic of our carriage house. While we may not have been able to tell the stories of those enslaved at the house directly through surviving artifacts, we could still use items in our collection to interpret their lives. It is important to note that there are limitations to using nineteenth century artifacts to interpret eighteenth century events – much changed over that century regarding labor and enslavement. Interpreting these artifacts is still worthwhile, even if I acknowledge their weaknesses in my interpretation. In this concrete experience, I realized the importance of a detailed and up to date collections catalogue and the interpretive possibilities that can result.

An 18^th or 19^th century wooden mortar and pestle in the collections at the Shirley-Eustis House. These and other kitchen tools illustrate the constant labor required in operating a household like the Shirley family’s in colonial Massachusetts. Photo taken by the author.

Two yokes for human use dating to the 18^th or 19^th century found in the collections at the Shirley-Eustis House. These two objects illustrate the human labor that went into daily operations at the house, even though they are not original to the house itself. Photo taken by the author.

Suzy also reminded me that we at the Shirley-Eustis House are not isolated from other museums. One benefit of designing an online exhibit is the potential to use collections beyond your own by linking other sites’ collections into the digital exhibit. Considering this option helped me realize that creating a rich and informative site on the history of enslavement is my priority for this exhibit, not simply drawing visitors to the Shirley-Eustis House and its unique resources alone. If our exhibit leads visitors to another site with more relevant artifacts, then I have done my job well.

The dispersion of artifacts from the Shirley-Eustis House likely occurred due to changing ownership, renovation, and repeated episodes of the house’s disrepair. It may be impossible to know what became of the site’s original eighteenth century artifacts, but this does not render its staff incapable of interpreting a broader history of the house and its residents, including its laborers. I hope that my exhibit does justice to the lives of enslaved Africans and their roles in local and national histories.

[1] https://sah.columbia.edu/content/prizes/tony-horwitz-prize/2021-lonnie-g-bunch-iii

[2] Vinson Cunningham, “Making a Home for Black History,” The New Yorker, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/08/29/analyzing-the-national-museum-of-african-american-history-and-culture.

[3] Vinson Cunningham, “Making a Home for Black History.”

The Significance of an Individual: Developing Exhibits in Historic House Museums

December 16, 2021 / Heidi Gengenbach / 0 Comments

By Meghan Arends

Longfellow House-Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site. Photograph taken upon my initial visit in August.

Longfellow House-Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site is owned and operated by the National Park Service. Built in 1759, the Georgian style house became the headquarters of George Washington during the Siege of Boston in 1775. It eventually became the home of American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow when it was bought by his father-in-law as a wedding gift.[1] From then on, the house became an important center of politics, society, and the arts.

The estate drew me in because of my interest in material culture. The collections held at the Longfellow House are numerous and diverse, representing the vast culture the family had the privilege of experiencing during their time. My internship here offered me a satisfying and richly challenging professional experience that expands past encounters with collections.

My overall internship goals were both practical and intellectual. In-depth research of extended family member Brevet Captain Nathan Appleton Jr. for the upcoming temporary exhibit “Longfellow Family in the Civil War” sat at the center of my experience. This involved familiar tasks, including online and off-site research into Nathan’s life, writing exhibit labels for artifacts and, eventually, producing web content to further expand upon his life as a Union soldier. This project required an intense focus on a singular subject and his place within the broader American history, which I don’t always get the chance to explore. Rather than generalized concepts and assumptions, an individual’s history can reveal their impact on the world and vise-versa.

Photographs of Brevet Captain Nathan Appleton Jr., “Appleton Family Papers,” Massachusetts Historical Society. Left: Nathan as a Harvard Student, shortly before entering the war. Right: Nathan after initial enlistment in 1863 as 2nd Lieutenant. Photographs courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society.

The most exciting part of the internship was certainly the weeklong research trip I took to the Massachusetts Historical Society, which maintains the Appleton Family Papers. Hundreds of documents shed light on the life of Nathan and his family in the years surrounding and including the Civil War. The richness and extent of the resources meant that I had to prioritize materials within the extensive collection. I had to determine which sources were most important to the themes and questions of my project, putting others aside. Previous research endeavors have never offered me such a volume of sources. My week spent at MHS taught me the importance of guiding themes in a research project, which is relevant for both historians and public historians.

The professional and practical aspects of the internship are among its greatest rewards, especially the communication and networking opportunities I’ve had with professionals in the field of public history. I attended weekly meetings with the rest of the site staff; they’ve provided an invaluable glance into the world of historic sites and their daily operations. The isolation of an internship can make it seem like the project you’re working on is the only one, but in reality, there are dozens of programs in development simultaneously. Nothing has expanded my personal field of public history knowledge more than hearing from other staff members about the various projects they are working on each day and their contributions to the site’s significance. A historic site can’t rely on one program or strategy to maintain relevance and interest. Diversity in programming and site history helps them serve multiple audiences and their needs.

The internship offered me opportunities to work on new skills, such as writing labels for exhibits. My natural instinct as a historian is to take my time crafting an argument and presenting evidence. That luxury isn’t available when writing exhibit labels, where you must communicate significance and meaning in relatively few words. General introductions that can’t explain the significance of an artifact in the context of the exhibit provide little substance for the audience. We read Beverly Serrell’s guide, Exhibit Labels, in class, but now I’ve had the chance to put her advice into practice and take on the challenges of writing exhibit text to tell stories and connect the past and present.[2] This is done all within 100 words written for the public, not scholars.

Process of writing and editing exhibit labels. 1. A short narrative with a list of the medals (too long) 2. A more narrative approach 3. Revision after separating a medal, requiring a new title 4. Continuous edits that create an interpretive narrative rather than just a list of facts

It’s inspiring to think that the work I’m currently doing isn’t just for a grade in a class. Instead, I hope to leave a mark on my field, to teach people and help them connect to the lives of this family. Eventually, this project will become part of a larger exhibit that will open in the spring of 2022. My work is not yet finished, as I will be helping with the design and execution of that larger exhibit for my capstone project next semester. I’m looking forward to identifying more stories that answer questions, inspire new ones, and entertain the public while pushing them to consider new ideas in the ever-evolving databank that is our history.

[1] Beverly Serrell, Exhibit Labels: An Interpretive Approach (Walnut Creek: Alta Mira Press, 1996), 19.

[2] “Longfellow House Washington’s Headquarters,” Home Page, National Park Service, https://www.nps.gov/long/index.htm.

Internship: “Ways We Couldn’t Even Imagine”: Artists-in-Residence at Historic Sites, no. 1

April 19, 2021 / Rebecca M Beit-Aharon / 0 Comments

By Rebecca Beit-Aharon

Public History student Rebecca Beit-Aharon offers the first of a series of three blog posts reflecting on her internship experience.

A framed crayon portrait of a faceless Black man in fashionable 18th century clothing standing at an open door. — “Cyrus Bruce” by Richard Haynes Jr. is currently on display at Historic New England’s Eustis Estate in Milton, MA in “Artful Stories: Paintings from Historic New England.” Image courtesy Historic New England.

In Summer 2018, Historic New England’s Governor John Langdon House in Portsmouth, NH and the Portsmouth Black Heritage Trail invited artist Richard Haynes Jr. to make an invisible man visible. Haynes served as Langdon’s artist-in-residence to create a portrait of Cyrus Bruce, a formerly enslaved Black man with a “gentlemanly appearance” who worked for Governor Langdon in the late 1700s. Haynes studied written sources, historical artifacts, and the Langdon House itself to bring Bruce to life.¹

Before and after, the Langdon House has brought in other artists-in-residence. The success of Haynes’ residency showed just how powerful contemporary art at historic sites can be: the Langdon House found a community partner in the Portsmouth Black Heritage Trail; a previously hidden history has been revealed; and bringing in a Black artist to showcase a Black historic figure increased its modern diversity as well. Ken Turino, Manager of Community Partnerships and Resource Development at Historic New England, was particularly impressed.

AIR programs at historic sites aren’t new or particularly uncommon, but there’s surprisingly little information available about actually running one. Different sites will naturally have different needs and capabilities, but the state of the field so far has generally been that each site ends up reinventing the wheel—with varying degrees of success.

In this display in Mining the Museum, “Metalwork 1793–1880,” Wilson places a silver service with iron slave shackles. The wealth of white Marylanders who owned such silver services depended on the enslavement of Black Africans and African-Americans. Image courtesy Fred Wilson and Howard Halle, “Mining the Museum,” Grand Street, no. 44 (1993): 157.

I started working with Ken Turino in August 2020 as a Community Engagement Research Intern to research existing and former AIR programs at historic sites with the goal of creating a set of industry best practices. We’ll be presenting our findings at at least one industry conference (AASLH 2021, here we come! Our panel will be on Friday, September 24 from 11am–12:15pm); making our materials—sample contracts, e.g.—available to the public; and (hopefully) submitting our findings for publication.

My background reading began with Fred Wilson’s Mining the Museum, an arresting 1992–93 exhibit at the Maryland Historical Society. Mining the Museum swept the industry with its curatorial critique of the museum’s dominant narrative. Rather than maintain the veneer of separation in the regular collection, Wilson juxtaposed artifacts reflecting upper-class white history with their antecedent: artifacts of enslavement.² His exhibit exemplifies what AIR programs can do: bring untold stories to light, incorporate diverse voices into historic sites and museums, and push historic institutions to rethink how they tell history.

A photograph of wooden statues of a cluster of Black children in front of church pews. — “The Children of Whitney” by Woodrow Nash. Courtesy of Whitney Plantation Museum.

Public historians today continue to echo Wilson’s message as we reframe history at sites like the Whitney Plantation and Slave Museum in Edgard, LA. Visitors’ introduction to the plantation and slave museum is through contemporary art in a historic building: sculptor Woodrow Nash’s “The Children of Whitney” grabs your attention when you enter the restored 1870 Antioch Baptist Church, built by emancipated African-Americans in nearby Paulina, LA after the Civil War.³ “The Children of Whitney” represent real Black children at the time of emancipation through the work of a Black artist, giving multiple generations voice.

Of course, not all AIR programs are equally successful: The Cut, a 2015 week-long public excavation at the site of the Warsaw ghetto run by Turkish artist-in-residence Aslı Çavuşoğlu at POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews, has had no lasting impact. In a 2020 review, Maria Magdalena Dembek argues that The Cut failed to evoke a shift in perspective among audience members or encourage an evaluation of its host museum’s narrative. POLIN actively leans away from interpreting the Holocaust, instead focusing on the life of Polish Jews—perhaps, as Dembek suggests, to “avoid critical discussion of the cultural mechanisms behind the Holocaust, mainly anti-Semitism in its local, Polish variant.”⁴ Despite the facts that Çavuşoğlu’s work was directly located in and conducted by the community and that he needed POLIN’s support to conduct his project at all, The Cut seems to have existed in a vacuum. Çavuşoğlu’s project was thoughtful and promising, but at the end of the day, a blip is a blip.

“Sheep Is Life” by JoAnne Doshier, 2008 Artist-in-Residence at Hubbell Trading Post National Historic Site. Watercolor on paper. Courtesy of NPS.

POLIN in Poland, MHS in Maryland—historic sites run AIR programs around the globe, but as English-speaking Americans, Ken and I have tended to focus on American historic sites. Of the fifty-five relevant programs that we initially identified, fifty-one are in the United States. One major source of AIR programs was the National Park Service, though the interactive map listing their AIR programs is woefully out-of-date. The map lists programs that current employees have never heard of, such as at Boston National Historic Park, and omits many current programs, including Hubbell Trading Post National Historic Site in Apache County, AZ, which has run its AIR program on a limited basis since 2007.⁵ And I only looked at the historic sites on the map—never mind the non-historic ones!

The NPS’ unhelpful masterlist is illustrative of two larger issues for AIR programs at historic sites: public awareness and confusion. AIR programs are often under-advertised; sometimes, opportunities are only posted on the site’s website, meaning that only artists aware of an individual site (and AIR programs in general) have a chance of knowing where to look. Additionally, “artist-in-residence” means multiple things. Our research focuses on AIR programs where the artwork and the artistic process is engages with the site of the residency, but there are other similarly-named programs—historically called artist colonies, a term currently being retired throughout the industry—that serve as retreats for artists to create without engaging with the host site. Not only is this difference poorly explained in available literature, but I haven’t found anywhere that treats them as separate types of programs. Even within the NPS, both types of programs are advertised under the same name (artist-in-residence program) with no way to distinguish them beyond looking at each individual site webpage.⁶ The same holds true on the Alliance of Artists Communities website, the biggest online clearing house for AIR programs.⁷ Clarity, communication, and openness are important first steps for historic sites with AIR programs, a finding continuously reinforced in the next phase of research: interviews.

Check back for the next installment, where I’ll talk about interviewing artists and site administrators—and more lessons learned.

Footnotes

1. “Video: How Richard Haynes creates a portrait,” Historic New England, August 14, 2020, https://www.historicnewengland.org/how-richard-haynes-creates-a-portrait/

2. Fred Wilson and Howard Halle, “Mining the Museum,” Grand Street, no. 44 (1993): 151–72, accessed August 5, 2020, https://www.jstor.org/stable/25007622; and Noralee Frankel, “Review: Mining the Museum by Fred Wilson,” The Public Historian 15, no. 3 (Summer 1993): 105–108, accessed August 5, 2020, https://www.jstor.org/stable/3378741.

3. Jessica Marie Johnson, “Time, Space, and Memory at Whitney Plantation,” Black Perspectives (blog), African American Intellectual History Society, March 14, 2015, https://www.aaihs.org/time-space-and-memory-at-the-whitney-plantation/; “The Children of the Whitney,” Whitney Plantation, accessed April 12, 2021, https://www.whitneyplantation.org/history/the-big-house-and-the-outbuildings/the-children-of-the-whitney; “The Antioch Baptist Church,” Whitney Plantation, accessed April 12, 2021, https://www.whitneyplantation.org/history/the-big-house-and-the-outbuildings/the-antioch-baptist-church.

4. Maria Magdalena Dembek, “Archaeological fever: situating participatory art in the rubble of the Warsaw ghetto,” Holocaust Studies 26, no. 2 (2020): 202, accessed August 5, 2020, https://doi-org.ezproxy.lib.umb.edu/10.1080/17504902.2019.1578458.

5. “Be an Artist-in-Residence,” Arts in the Parks, National Park Service, accessed April 11, 2021, https://www.nps.gov/subjects/arts/air.htm; “Artist in Residence,” Hubbell Trading Post National Historic Site, National Park Service, accessed April 11, 2021, https://www.nps.gov/hutr/getinvolved/artist-in-residence.htm.

6. Eugene O’Neill National Historic Site’s Travis Bogard Artist in Residence Program in Danville, CA is a performing arts residency where the works produced do not need to be related to the site; on the other hand, Harpers Ferry National Historic Park’s AIR program in Harpers Ferry, WV requires artists to create work relevant to the site. See “Travis Bogard Artist in Residence Program & Travis Bogard Day-Use Program,” Eugene O’Neill Foundation, accessed April 11, 2021, http://www.eugeneoneill.org/artist-in-residence-program; “Artist in Residence,” Harpers Ferry National Historic Park, National Park Service, accessed April 11, 2021, https://www.nps.gov/hafe/getinvolved/artist-in-residence.htm.

7. “Residencies,” Alliance of Artists Communities, accessed April 11, 2021, https://artistcommunities.org.

Student spotlight: Jenna Magnuski

December 27, 2020 / Heidi Gengenbach / 0 Comments

Jenna Magnuski (she/her/hers)

Track: Public History

Areas of Historical Interest: Chattel slavery, Native American and Indigenous Studies, Early American Republic, Local History

Jenna grew up in the Chicago area. She has a BA in US History from Framingham State University, and an MA in Student Affairs in Higher Education from Indiana University of Pennsylvania. After graduating, she worked in Residential Life for ten years before having two kids and taking a step back. While in undergrad, Jenna interned at the Little Compton Historical Society in Rhode Island. She started working there again once her youngest was old enough for her to be away. Her work there reinvigorated her passion for history and drove her to explore MA programs in history.

In her free time, Jenna enjoys crafting, Tabletop role-playing games & board games, photography, and community organizing & active citizenship. In addition, she is a member of the leadership collective of the History Graduate Student Association at UMass Boston. Jenna lives with her supportive husband, their two sons, Edmund and Oliver, and her in-laws in a 1904 farmhouse. They have a cat named Arya and a black dog named Snowflake. With everyone’s different schedules, the house only usually gets a few hours of sleep each night!

Favorite Historical Story: “Calvin Coolidge was sitting next to a young woman at a dinner party. She said she’d bet her friends that she could get the notoriously reserved Coolidge to say more than 3 words. Without looking at her, he said, “you lose”.”

Internship: A Fresh Perspective on Local History

December 24, 2020 / Heidi Gengenbach / 1 Comment

By Tom Begley

We rarely have the opportunity to learn a city’s history through the perspectives of women. Until recently, the everyday lives and achievements of women have not been well documented or celebrated, silenced or pushed to the margins. Since the mid-20^th century, historians and public history institutions have increasingly worked to fix this, searching the records and highlighting stories of women and other marginalized populations. During my internship with Lighting the Way: Historic Women of the South Coast (LTW) I worked on a new educational tool for the program and in the process learned important pieces of the history of New Bedford, Massachusetts through the inspiring stories of women of the city. It became clear how the city was shaped by their activism, organization, and passion to improve their communities.

Since 2018, the New Bedford Whaling Museum’s initiative LTW has highlighted women from Massachusetts’ South Coast, the region stretching from Cape Cod to the Rhode Island border. LTW seeks “to explore the impact of historical women from diverse cultural and ethnic backgrounds throughout history” by “unearthing remarkable stories of women’s callings that required grit, tenacity, and enduring commitment to their families, careers and communities,” (www.historicwomensouthcoast.org). With thought provoking programs, online profiles, a mobile app, educator and school group resources, walking tours, forums, public art displays, and community civic engagement campaigns, LTW invites people to learn about their local history through the stories of women.

Lighting the Way. Courtesy of New Bedford Whaling Museum.

Working with LTW coordinator Cathy Saunders, my project was to create a mobile tour driven by an overarching narrative to explore a specific theme in the city’s history. Rhode Tour, a joint initiative between Rhode Island Council for the Humanities, Brown University’s Center for Public Humanities and Cultural Heritage, and Rhode Island Historical Society, will host the tour. Rhode Tour is a smartphone app and website that brings stories and tours to the palm of the user in an engaging display, (www.rhodetour.org). The platform also serves as a digital exhibit space presenting “big ideas” and telling history through multimedia, essays, and links to additional resources such as articles and videos. Joining Rhode Tour will extend LTW’s reach and mission to the thousands of users who access the website and app each year.

I began my work by identifying themes in the collection of 100 profiles of women available on the LTW website. LTW intends to connect the tour to Massachusetts civic curriculum standards. With this in mind the long tradition of women activists and organizers started to become apparent. From abolitionists to PTA members to elected officials, women have worked to improve their South Coast communities and beyond. This realization brought us to the theme for the tour – “Organizing New Bedford: The Women Who Mobilized Change.”

Creating a shortlist of potential tour stops was the first hurdle to overcome. Rhode Tour suggests 6-8 stops and with so many fascinating LTW stories it was hard to choose only a handful of women to feature. To narrow the list and meet the requirement we established a set of criteria. We looked for women who spent the majority of their careers in New Bedford, motivated others to create change, and had several types of multimedia available to help tell the story. Through conversations with Cathy and LTW advisory committee members, the list eventually met the target with 6 tour stops highlighting the work of 7 women: Elizabeth Carter Brooks, Jennie Horne, Rosalind Poll Brooker, Rosemary Tierney, Eula Mendes, Polly Johnson, and Mary Santos Barros.

The Lighting the Way website (www.historicwomensouthcoast.org) features over 100 profiles of South Coast women, education resources, and a self-guided walking tour. Courtesy of New Bedford Whaling Museum.

After selecting the women, we sought appropriate locations for each tour stop. Some were readily apparent such as New Bedford City Hall for Rosalind Poll Brooker and Rosemary Tierney, the first women elected City Councilor and mayor, respectively. Others were more difficult because the places associated with the stories no longer exist or have become private residences. The textile mill where strike leader Eula Mendes worked has been torn down, as was the community center Jennie Horne directed. We also had to consider the current status of neighborhoods and whether it was appropriate to encourage people to visit. The historic areas of the city are surrounded by active neighborhoods and we wanted to be respectful of residents’ privacy. For guidance I turned to people more familiar with the city than me.

The final step was to write each tour stop. The existing LTW profiles served as the foundation as I added new information and reshaped text to focus on the aspect of the woman’s life that exemplified our theme of organizing for change. The realities of researching women’s history were uncovered during this stage. Sources are limited, yet by looking closely at the silences stories start to emerge. We also had the great fortune of connecting with family members who provided a wealth of information about their mothers that wasn’t available otherwise.

The content experts involved with LTW were all incredibly gracious with their time and knowledge as I worked on the project. In particular Jan da Silva (New Bedford Whaling National Historical Park), Lee Blake (New Bedford Historical Society), Mary Smoyer (Boston Women’s Heritage Trail), and Ann O’Leary (NBWM Emily Bourne Research Fellow) provided detailed notes on appropriate locations and storylines to include in the tour. Overall, I owe my positive experience to Cathy Saunders who guided me through the process and shared her public history expertise to ensure that I considered the many different factors in order to properly share these women’s stories.

Recently, one of the LTW committee members, a lifelong resident of New Bedford, shared that she loves her city and was thrilled to see this “Organizing New Bedford” tour bring long deserved attention to the work these women did to make the city a better place. I hope others from New Bedford feel the same way and that this project may inspire students to get involved in issues important to them. It was an honor to work on this project and play a small part in furthering LTW’s educational mission. Not only did I enjoy sharpening my skills as a public history practitioner, but as a student of history, it was especially impactful to learn about New Bedford through the deeds of these amazing women.

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