This weekend, I had a chance to go see my good friend Jack at a reenactment event. He is a member of an NWTA group interpreting Hamilton's Artillery at the time of the Revolutionary War, and while I'm really not interested in the Rev War as a historical period, I feel like reenacting is a hobby you can't start unless you know someone in the group already for practical purposes. (Practical purposes being that it's really hard to find out about these groups on the internet -- reenactors don't have a really good web presence.)
Also, people keep giving me Colonial- era clothes and I have to find someplace to wear them. I now own three shortgowns (only one fits) three skirts (none of which fit) and a pair of panniers. So, to the Rev War events I go!
The event itself was a little lack-luster -- it was more of a community event that the NWTA had been invited to because they could be remotely connected to the theme, Pioneer Days, and like many free community events, was really designed for the 'parents with young children' crowd.
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| This gentleman was demonstrating beeswax candle making, which was pretty cool. |
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| A close-up of his table |
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| Fiber arts demonstration -- this woman was spinning and letting the kids try it every once in a while. Also pretty cool. |
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| This was one of the things I had a problem with -- see what' s behind him? That's a four lane road. Very hard to hear a presentation on Artillery when there's cars going by and honking. |
But the afternoon wasn't a total bust -- I got to talk with the unit commander and I'm going to be put on their email list, which is very helpful, and I got to talk to a number of the folks there about their various projects and personas. And I found myself reflecting a lot in the way of professional development.
Everyone views events, books and other people from different perspectives, acquired from different life experiences and professional lenses, and now, every time I visit a different historic site or listen to a lecture I find myself evaluating things from the viewpoint of a museum educator.
When I got home this afternoon, I gave my parents an earful of what I would be doing differently were I the one under those really lovely white canvas tents. Here are a few.
1. Interact more with your public. One of the things about reenacting in general is that it's intimidating, and, while everyone likes to put out their 'table of stuff' (like the last picture above' it's really hard to point to an object amidst all these other objects and say 'Tell me about that, please,' when the person behind the table very obviously makes this a big deal in their lives. There's a lot to be said for a simple 'Hello, where are you visiting from today' for every one of the people who walk by the table. Having a theme would be nice as well -- items from a haversack, a soldier's lunch, a set of tradesman's tools -- so that these groups of things allow a person to put together a brief explanation of all the parts, and hopefully allow for some questions and flexibility with a constantly moving audience.
2. Know your space. I love groups that put signs out in front of their tents. It's like the entrance to an exhibit. It tells me what to expect. It sets up rules. It offers me some context and sets a boundary of sorts. One of the groups today had a very nicely lettered sign on their tent-pole asking visitors not to go into the space without permission -- a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. But many of the visitors today were young, pre-literate children, who want to touch everything and who do not read signs, and who think tents of all sizes are great fun. It made me a little angry that the gentleman at this particular tent was getting really angry (in an ineffective, unhelpful way) with the children who kept wandering into his tent. If it bothered him that much, he should have put some kind of tape, at their level, out front to keep them out . Or -- and this is what I would have done -- stopped talking to the adult visitors and started talking to the children, explaining why they shouldn't be touching these objects.
3. History is filled with confrontations, but it should not be confrontational. Now, I am not saying that there is not a time and a place for a good old fashioned debate, and I am certainly not saying that we should never question the way that history is related to us. In fact, we should always question the way that our facts are given and consider what (and whose) stories are and are not being told. But explaining to a visitor why their perception of the clothes you are wearing or the tools you are using is wrong should not feel like an attack on the visitor. It should be an opportunity, and a happy opportunity at that. You are being given the chance to change someone's perceptions by explaining and share something that you care a lot about, which means that it should be a joy, not a chore, and you should do it with a smile, not a scowl.
4. Save the scorecard for later. As a visitor, I don't want to hear what you think of the other groups at the event. I don't need to hear that you think the people down the row are doing or saying something inaccurate.You can give me the corrected version, if you like. You can even set it up with "Now, you may have heard this, but these reputable sources suggest that's really not true." But as a visitor, I don't need to be involved in the assessment of other presenters. That's something that needs to happen after the visitors leave, and it needs to be a sensible conversation like "Hey, I heard you say this earlier. I was always under the impression it was this way. Where did you learn about that? Do you have any evidence for why you present it this way?" But be nice about it, mind you -- see number three for details.
5. Leave your lime green shortgown at home. Really, I'm not even a reenactor and I know that's farby. Plus, you just look ridiculous.
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