Getting acclimated to the field of public history was essential, and Townsend and Dichtl’s (2009) provided a foundational definition to help me understand the field’s parameters. Grele (1981) prompted me to consider the parallels between the historical decline of the 1980s and today’s climate of historical erasure. Contrasting these perspectives helped me to grasp the importance of public historians. Additionally, Weible (2008) helped me understand that the “public” in public history is not just the audience, but should be viewed as active participants in a process of shared authority. This realization shifted my focus to engage more with my potential audiences on the project. While this approach was time-consuming, I understood the value of collaborating with the community on every aspect of the project, from the project’s topic to its design and implementation, and its final evaluation.
As someone with a background outside history, I found Wineburg’s article especially thought-provoking. He highlights the need for teachers to invigorate how students learn history. He argues for the need for intentionality in selecting the historical documents taught to students, to help them learn to tolerate complexity and not accept the first-guessed (or AI-generated) response. Using Brennan’s Histories of the Mall as a case study reinforced the importance of starting with sources and questions to guide interpretation. Wineburg’s insights helped me understand the importance of digital projects that are interactive and engaging, making the past come to life and inspiring the public to further inquire into the topic.
Putting these concepts into practice was helpful in the content templates (Kissane, 2011) and paper prototyping (Medero, 2007). These practices were challenging but helpful. I was able to visualize the site flow a user might experience and try to identify and address interface design flaws. Even though I had insufficient time and design skills to execute the interface I wanted, I gained an invaluable understanding of this process for when I can work on team projects.
I also learned the need for shared authority in my project. Arnold and Miller (2016) and Lubar (2015) encouraged me to remove myself from the role of a traditional exhibit curator. Lubar’s principles also served as a great guide for exhibit design and the importance of providing users with high-quality, aesthetically appealing images to gaze upon. This principle sent me searching for content beyond historical newspaper articles and for replacement images of some photos of individuals highlighted in my project. His writing also reminded me of the importance of considering the community’s perspective and of their having a voice in how their history is represented and what the site does for the community.
The readings on AI-generated content and transcription were particularly useful because I was spending significant time sourcing images in the public domain. Using Gemini AI produced visually appealing images as potential Omeka banners within minutes. AI also helped me translate difficult-to-read correspondence that I will use for my site. These tools are now integrated into most digital spheres and have the potential to help public historians complete projects efficiently. While the future of AI is yet to be known, having the space in this course to apply these tools was helpful.
Finally, as a fan of This American Life, I found Ira Glass’s insights on the creative process encouraging. His reflection on the gap between our tastes in what we want and what we can produce at the early stages was a welcome reminder that improvement takes time. Doing public history takes time. I know I need to commit to this time to improve my skills.