O Say Can You See?

The public memory of September 11

Editor's Note: This is the first in a series of weekly blog posts exploring the 10th anniversary of September 11. Learn about the museum's commemoration plans.

A unique forum took place last night at the National Building Museum. "The Public Memory of September 11" offered engaging and often riveting presentations on designing and building the three major memorials to the people who died in New York, Pennsylvania, and Washington, D.C., in the tragic attacks on September 11, 2001. The panel for the forum included Alice Greenwald, Executive Vice President for Programs at the National September 11 Memorial & Museum; Jeff Reinbold, Site Manager for the Flight 93 National Memorial; and Jim Laychak, President of the Pentagon Memorial Fund. As the 10th anniversary of that dramatic day approaches, I thought it was important to bring together, for the first time, the people who have provided leadership in creating these memorials. They more than fulfilled my expectations.

Construction image of the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. Photo by Joel Woolhead.

Unlike other anniversaries in American history we are observing this year (the Civil War, for example), we are not nostalgic about September 11. Yet, even before the dust had settled and the grim task of investigating the events of that day had been completed, there was a public consensus that we should memorialize the people who died on that day. That consensus was fragile, however, and a vigorous public debate followed that continues today. A wide range of questions emerged during the planning and building of these memorials:

• Where should we build these memorials?
• How should we select the design?
• What story will we tell?
• What information should we include or leave out?

Landscape of the Flight 93 National Memorial. Photo by Chuck Wagner.

The answers to these questions and many others reveal much about our own times—our aesthetics, our politics, and our language. The process of building memorials to September 11 also forces us to consider the role of religion and spirituality. In creating memorials to the victims of the September 11 attacks, we are engaged in what sociologist Janet Jacobs describes as a process of transforming sites of violence and death into sacred ground. In a secular society that prides itself on tolerance and diversity, this is a profound challenge, made even more difficult when we are continuously reminded—on September 11, 2001 and this past week in Norway, for example—of the violence and death that takes place in the name of religion.

At the conclusion of the forum, Alice Greenwald made a distinction between a memorial and a museum. While the memorial will honor the dead, the museum must tell a story about what happened and why. As a historian, I am intrigued by the "why" question. Why did this happen? Why did all these people die? These questions arise at critical moments in our history. At Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln transformed the meaning of the Civil War from a conflict to preserve the Union to one that would fulfill the promise of the Declaration of Independence and that the carnage of war would bring about "a new birth of freedom."

The Pentagon Memorial. Courtesy of the Pentagon Memorial.

Less famously but equally profound was the conversation I witnessed between a father and his young son near Ground Zero at the New York Fire Department Memorial at the firehouse of Engine Company 10, Ladder Company 10. The memorial is a large bronze bas relief mural that honors the 343 firefighters who died on September 11. It graphically illustrates the scene as they rush into the burning towers of the World Trade Center. The little boy asked his father to explain what was happening in the scene, and the father tried to recreate the horrific events of that day. The boy was patient but persistent.

"Why are the buildings on fire?"

"Because some men flew planes into them."

"Why did they do that?"

"Because they were very angry."

"Why were they so angry?"

I could sense the father's growing frustration at this point, but I could not hear his response. Or if he responded at all.

We all share that frustration of trying to make sense of history, explaining the causes of events that often defy explanation. And we must try to understand not only the causes but the consequences of major turning points in our history. Certainly, September 11, 2001 is one of those turning points.

Remembering September 11 and honoring those who died is vitally important. It is equally important that we try to understand the meaning of that day and how it continues to shape our lives and our times.

Brent D. Glass is the Elizabeth MacMillan Director of the National Museum of American History.

Exploring historical connections in China

It is good to be back at the National Museum of American History after a ten-day visit to Shanghai, China. The main reason for my trip was to attend the triennial conference of the International Commission on Museums (ICOM), a diplomatic forum made up of museum professionals from 137 countries and territories. I was there to represent the museum in the intercultural dialogue taking place, and to further our understanding of America’s role in international museums. However, I did leave time to explore this extraordinary city that has had such spectacular growth over the past twenty years. I had a chance to see and experience many of the landmark projects associated with this growth, including the World Expo Centre that attracted more than seventy million visitors (mostly Chinese) in five months, the Mag-Lev train that reaches a top speed of nearly 260 miles per hour, a new twelve-line subway system that serves more than 3.5 million riders each day, and the world’s tallest observation deck at the top of the Jin Mao Tower in the financial center.

So much for superlatives—I was also there for the history. In spite of the relentless commitment to rebuild the city, some impressive remnants of 19th and early 20th century architecture remain, especially in the Bund district along the Huangpu River. I also had a chance to venture out of the city on two day trips to Suzhou, where I.M. Pei has designed a beautiful museum for art and antiquities, and to Hangzhou, a city with extraordinary sculptures of Buddha and one of world’s largest Buddhist temples. I was impressed with the strong presence of history, traditional culture, and religion in spite of the efforts to modernize. Like China, our nation has and will continue to search for a balance between looking to the future and preserving the past.

Science and Technology Museum, Shanghai, China. Image from Flickr user Wolfgang Staudt.

One of the museums I visited in Shanghai was the Science and Technology Museum, which features a natural history exhibition sponsored by our own donor and good friend Ken Behring. At a museum reception, Ken introduced me to Mark Johnson, who teaches an advanced placement class in American history at the Concordia International School in Shanghai, and whose students participated in last year’s National History Day program. Mark invited my wife, Cathryn, and me to meet his class, and asked me to talk about the National Museum of American History. The students were amazing, very engaged in the study of American history and the use of primary sources in their research. They had lots of questions about the museum and my work as director.

Brent Glass and his wife Cathryn with Mark Johnson and his students at Concordia International School in Shanghai, China.

After meeting Mark’s class, we joined him as he led a tour of the city for teachers from international schools in East Asia. We saw several historic sites associated with major events such as the Opium Wars, the influence of western powers in the 1920s and 1930s, and the rise of Communism after World War II. We concluded our tour in the Jewish ghetto where more than twenty thousand Holocaust refugees settled after escaping from Germany and Austria. The refugees made it to Shanghai with the help of a courageous Chinese diplomat stationed in Vienna. The story of how they survived during and after WWII is told in a small but powerful exhibition in a former synagogue that now serves as a memorial and a museum. One of those refugees was Michael Blumenthal, whose family left Germany in 1939 and resettled in the United States after the war. In 1977, he was named Secretary of the Treasury by President Carter.

The story of these refugees and the story of the millions of Chinese who have endured a traumatic history—invasions, civil war, famine, and revolution—is inspiring. To see such a booming, lively, and culturally rich region that has grown in the face of these challenges reminded me of the resilience of the human spirit against overwhelming odds. At this holiday season, that is an important lesson to remember.

Brent Glass is Director of the National Museum of American History.

Editor’s Note: Do you teach American history/culture abroad? What are some the unique opportunities and challenges of teaching American history in another country?

 

 

Are we on a slippery slope of national amnesia?

Is American history dead? Are we on a slippery slope of national amnesia? If you look at data from a recent Marist Poll, you might answer “yes” to these questions. Just before the July 4th holiday weekend, Americans were asked “from which country did the United States win its independence?” Only 74% of those polled identified Great Britain, 20% were not sure, and 6% named other countries such as Mexico, Spain, China, Japan, and France. Equally alarming are the headlines about significant budget cuts for museums and historical organizations across the country.

Responses to a recent Maris Poll which asked "from which country did the United States win its independence?"

As director of the National Museum of American History, I need to pay attention to this news. What can the museum do to contribute to an improvement in our historical literacy? Certainly our major exhibitions such as The Price of Freedom: Americans at War offer visitors an opportunity to learn about the major events that have shaped our national experience including a large section devoted to the American Revolution. Our award-winning website, History Explorer, provides teachers and students with innovative content that uses the museum’s collections to build a history curriculum. And we are playing an active role in working with the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Service to give people planning to take their citizenship test—and people preparing applicants for these tests—an introduction to American history through the museum’s national collections.

In my travels around the country, there are many signs of a renewed commitment to preserving and presenting American history. In New Mexico, an impressive state history museum opened last year that reminds visitors of that state’s complex and rich heritage. In neighboring Colorado, the state historical society is building a stunning new headquarters funded through a dynamic public-private partnership. The East Tennessee History Center in Knoxville offers a timeline of regional history and maintains one of the leading genealogical libraries in the country. I have visited historic house museums as diverse as Taliesin in Green Hill, Wisconsin, and The House of Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts, and I was inspired by the knowledge, energy, and creativity of staff and volunteers.

Students and museum visitors unfold a student-made replica of the Star-Spangled Banner in the museum's Flag Hall, September 6, 2009.

So rather than being discouraged by the July 4th poll or by any announcements of declining appropriations, I continue to be optimistic that Americans are eager to learn about our past. Our job is to connect our audience with the extraordinary collections and stories of the past, to make history come alive for young people and for new Americans. I do not subscribe to the belief that there was a “golden age” of historical knowledge. However, I do believe we are in jeopardy of losing our collective memory if we fail to invest significant financial and human resources in research, preservation, exhibitions, facilities, technology, and programs and thereby fulfill our mission to tell the story of America.

Brent D. Glass is Director of the National Museum of American History.

Step by step to freedom and justice

Editor’s note: This year marks the 50th anniversary of the student sit-ins at the Greensboro, N.C. lunch counter. To commemorate this event, the Museum is exploring “Stories of Freedom and Justice” throughout 2010. This post from Director Brent D. Glass is the first in a series that will investigate the history of liberty, equality, and justice in America.

Director Brent D. Glass (center).

Earlier this week—January 18—while Americans observed the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I stood in the Oval Office as President Obama proudly displayed a copy of the Emancipation Proclamation signed by Abraham Lincoln. The President spoke to a small group of civil rights veterans and their families and reminded us that Lincoln did not abolish slavery in 1863 but he did declare all slaves in rebellious states would be free. The Emancipation Proclamation, the President said, was a significant step but not the final step toward freedom. For this group of mostly elderly citizens who changed America in the 1950s and 1960s, the President’s message was clear—social progress does not happen with the stroke of a pen.

Xavier Carnegie, the actor who plays the fictional civil rights activist Samuel P. Leonard in the "Join the Student Sit-ins" program.

My thoughts at that moment turned to the programs underway at the National Museum of American History where we have launched a new initiative called “Stories of Freedom and Justice.” Last weekend an inspiring Martin Luther King, Jr. family festival included musical performances and a symposium featuring two members of the Little Rock Nine, who provided a gripping personal account of their courageous journey to integrate their high school in 1957.The festival also included our popular theatrical performance, “Join the Student Sit-ins” in which we offer visitors the experience of non-violent protest. More than 40,000 people visited the Museum during the MLK weekend and the melody of “We Shall Overcome” echoed throughout the building.

Next month, we will honor the legacy of the Greensboro Four, the college freshmen who staged the sit-in at the Woolworth’s lunch counter on February 1, 1960 and became part of a national protest movement that that eventually led to the desegregation of public facilities throughout the South. On February 3 Smithsonian Secretary Wayne Clough will present these civil rights pioneers with the James Smithson Bicentennial Medal. We will also host a town hall meeting with high school students to discuss the meaning and significance of the Greensboro sit-in. These programs will continue through the end of July when we will mark the moment that the Woolworth’s sit-in finally ended with an agreement to serve blacks and whites at the lunch counter.

 

 

The lunch counter on display as one of the Museum’s landmark objects has always held a special meaning for me for two reasons. First, it represents the determination of a generation of Americans—black and white, young and old—who understood that racial segregation was wrong and that they needed to do something to end it.  Step by step, as President Obama pointed out in the Oval Office this week, ordinary people accomplished extraordinary deeds. Second, the lunch counter display in the Museum represents our commitment to tell the story of what it means to be an American, a story that involves overcoming barriers to achieve the American Dream of freedom and opportunity.

Brent D. Glass is Director of the National Museum of American History.

American history through Iraqi eyes

As soon as more than sixty Iraqi public officials sat down in our auditorium, I knew I was facing a tough audience. These men and one woman (with a few female officials and interpreters) have been through a very tumultuous period marked by dictatorship, invasion, civil war, suicide bombings, and the rigors of electoral politics. I had twenty minutes to discuss a serious and complex topic—how can a national history museum create a greater understanding of national identity? In my prepared remarks, I observed that a national museum must maintain a delicate balance between celebration and criticism. We try to present a consensus view of history while recognizing the conflicts and divisions that mark our past. I concluded that sustaining the trust and loyalty of museum visitors required the museum to tell the whole story, even those unpleasant chapters of our history.

 
October 19, 2009 in Flag Hall.

After I showed them some images of the museum’s treasured collections—Jefferson’s writing table, Greenough’s statue of George Washington, the Woolworth’s lunch counter, Dorothy’s ruby slipper, and an 8th century dinar from Iraq—I invited our guests to tour the Star-Spangled Banner gallery and the exhibition on the life of Abraham Lincoln. They spent over an hour on these tours and were clearly engaged in the topics of patriotic symbols, civil war, political assassination, and national reconciliation.

Explaining the significance and popularity of the ruby slippers, however, was more challenging. A few members of the group were familiar with the classic American fairy tale and the pivotal role the slippers play in bringing Dorothy home to Kansas. But for most of this delegation, this story held little interest or meaning. They paid more attention to the cleanliness of the museum and the hospitality of the staff. And they remained engaged in some big questions—can a divided nation find unity in its shared heritage? Can history be a resource to understand our own times? My hope was that their brief visit to the National Museum of American History offered some potential answers.

Brent D. Glass is Director of the National Museum of American History.