O Say Can You See?

4th of July 1905

This real photo postcard shows three young men enjoying the holiday weekend. The young man on the left has taken the photograph using a string attachment so he too can be in the photograph. The names of the young men seem to be on the actual tent, rather than added to the photo later. Their bed rolls can be seen inside the tent and fishing poles just outside.

Front—“This is what I sent to Gertrude. Camping out the 4th of July 1905. I took this picture with myself in it set camera up and used string attachment.” Real photo card, catalog number 86.3048.772.

Back.

Real photo postcards were incredibly popular from about 1900 to WWI. They were made on thick photo paper with the postcard info pre-printed the back. On this postcard, you can see the author has written his message on the front instead of the back. In 1907, postal regulations were changed to create the divided back postcard allowing senders to put messages and addresses on the back, keeping the front image unmarred.

The museum’s Photographic History Collection (PHC) has some 3,000 postcards exploring a range of topics made by amateur and professional photographers. Real photo postcards can still be found in antique stores, flea markets, and the like. In private collections, they are found among loose snapshots, albums, and framed images, sometimes surprising owners with a wealth of hidden information on the back.

The postmarks can help date the photo and begin tracking a chain of communication. In our example here, we have two friends communicating who live in different locations—the text references a third friend, Gertrude—and then there are the two young men in the photo. One can begin to see a social network building. (Note to teachers: Real photo postcards are great resources for creative writing projects.) You’ll notice, too, that the address looks different than the way we write them today. For instance there is no zip code. The zip code system wasn’t put into place until July 1, 1963.

One set of real photo postcards in the PHC reveals that mail in the Bedford, Massachusetts, area in the early 1900s was delivered several times a day. One young woman would invite friends for tea, or let them know she was leaving class early to catch a train to visit, and receive responses from them on the same day.

I like these real photo cards because they are often snapshots—casual events and milestones in life that were intentionally shared across time and space. They offer historians and researchers views into what some people thought was interesting enough and important enough to share with others—sort of like today’s Facebook, Shutterfly, Flickr, and other such image sharing sites—though perhaps with reduced numbers! If you are in the museum over the July 4th weekend, be sure to share your photos and memories of your visit with others by joining our group on the Flickr.

Happy Fourth of July!

Shannon Perich is Associate Curator for the Photographic History Collection at the National Museum of American History.

Vote for the best dressed in red, white, and blue

Take a look around you on Independence Day and you’ll probably find throngs of patriotic Americans bedecked in the stars and stripes. The flag, long a symbol of both pride and protest, provides present-day design inspiration for everything from T-shirts to neckties, hats, and hair ribbons.

The American flag was the inspiration behind many of the outfits worn by people who entered the museum’s Star-Spangled Banner singing contest earlier this year. The contest is over now and our grand prize winner gave a breathtaking performance on Flag Day. But I propose a new mini-contest—one in which the only prize is bragging rights. Who do you think—out of the 15 video entries below—is most fashionably red, white, and blue?

Will it be Johnny Lanza’s Uncle Sam hat? 4 year old Isabelle’s pigtails? Or maybe 70-year old Judie’s star-spangled tanktop? You decide!

Can't see the video playlist above?  View it on YouTube.

Dana Allen-Greil is the new media project manager at the National Museum of American History.

Intern inspiration

Most of the people in my office began their association with the Smithsonian through internships. Once we got here, we fell in love, and found ways to stay.

On a private tour of the collections, interns got to rub shoulders with the famous C3PO.

I had wonderful internships with the Smithsonian: I got to go behind-the-scenes in some of our nation’s greatest museums, I worked on projects that helped tiny corners of the Smithsonian function more smoothly, and I met inspiring professionals in the field I love.

I felt so lucky to have been accepted as an intern at the Smithsonian that I didn’t entirely realize how much the Smithsonian benefits from its interns. Obviously, it’s wonderful to have an extra set of eyes, brains, and hands to do work. But now, as a museum professional myself, I really value the “breath of fresh air” that our new interns have brought to the office. Through their perspectives, I can see my own projects in different ways, and I reevaluate the experiences that have become everyday to me.

For example, take 8:58 to 9:00 in the morning, when I walk from the door of the museum to my office. After working here for only a little while, those minutes have become the last 2 minutes of a routine commute and the last moments before I have to start working. But then I remember that there are new interns in the building, and it isn’t “old” yet for them. It’s still a treat to walk through a closed museum.

One of my colleagues explains this as the difference between get to and have to, and I really enjoy that the interns have brought get to back into my professional vocabulary. I get to publish learning materials online. I get to go to meetings to plan projects.

I’m hoping to get some of our interns to blog during their summer here—posting on “O Say Can You See?” might be one more thing they get to do.

(By the way, it is too late to apply to be an intern this year, but if you’re thinking about joining us next spring or summer, check out our the Smithsonian internship Web site and the National Museum of American History internship site.)

Jenny Wei is an education specialist at the National Museum of American History and is an intern alumna from the Archives of American Art and the Smithsonian Center for Education and Museum Studies.

Kids bored? Tell ‘em a story...

Given where I work, you might guess that I love history. I also love books. And I love reading to and with my three kids. Given those facts, I have always been a strong supporter of the museum’s OurStory initiative, which promotes historical children’s literature in a variety of subjects relating to our research and collections—everything from prairie sod houses to Puerto Rican carnival to Pueblo pots. As a parent, I have found that the quickest way to engage kids in history is through a well-told story.

After seeing the museum’s "Join the Student Sit-ins" program recently, my family became interested in the protest at the now-famous Greensboro, N.C. lunch counter and other aspects of the civil rights movement. It dovetailed nicely with what my fourth-grader had been learning in school about the history of race relations in our home state of Virginia. So I was glad to see that the newly-redesigned OurStory Web site had a new section featuring a work of historical fiction on the same topic, Freedom on the Menu.

We borrowed the book and dived into the supporting online materials. A reading guide provided some historical context for the book (which reinforced what the kids had seen in the museum) and suggested questions for discussion as we read along. The site also offers a range of activities—suitable both for home and for more structured settings—that reinforce the historical themes and extend the experience. Because our family loves music, we chose to do an activity where we listened to civil rights songs on a referenced Web site, sang along, and even came up with a few of our own lyrics.

For any caregiver who is looking for a way to entertain elementary-age kids over the summer, or is simply looking for access to a great list of historical literature (nearly 200 books are referenced in a useful online search), I can heartily recommend the OurStory site. I know my family will be back for more.

Matthew MacArthur is Director of New Media at the National Museum of American History.

Never can say goodbye

When the rumor concerning Michael Jackson’s tragic death became fact, I raced to the Starbucks
on the corner of 7th and E, Northwest, in downtown Washington, D.C.

It was as close as I could get to the site of the clothing store (the name of which I cannot remember) where, 
in the late Spring of 1971, the tailor measuring the suit I would wear to my 9th grade graduation, would sing, and sing,
and sing the opening lines from the Jackson 5’s hit single “Never Can Say Goodbye.”

The tailor alternately crooned and chanted those four words-pausing only to ask if I was okay with 
the length of the slacks.

I simply nodded.

In part because the suit idea wasn’t mine to begin with, and because I shared his love for 
that aching, arresting love song, and wanted to return to that space.
I had him adjust the cuff length four times before my Mother gave a look which said “Let’s go!”

Today I could not tell you what that suit looked like if my life depended on it.
But I remember the exact site of the clothing store.
A glitzy art gallery stands in its place.

The 7th Street of my youth, adolescence and early adulthood was as different a place
as photos of the pre and post teenage Michael Jackson.

I was so overcome with emotion, I was sorely tempted to tell the otherwise bored barista about my experience. 
I’d say she was in her early ‘20’s-which probably meant she was more familiar with Michael Jackson the tabloid star
than the vocalist whose sound is as much a part of me as shyness, so I held back..

I can’t even remember what I ordered.

I do know that I stood in front of that gallery, lost in a 38 year-old memory.
I held the cup like the girl I dreamed of dancing with each time that sweet song played.

Reuben Jackson is a poet and associate curator in the Archives Center at the National Museum of American History.  This poem was featured on WAMU's Metro Connection.