Memory, representation, and reconciliation
Viet Thanh Nguyen writes on the creation of just and ethical memories by remembering others as well as our own.
Viet Thanh Nguyen writes on the creation of just and ethical memories by remembering others as well as our own.
A graduate seminar on preservation gave me the chance to discuss why old places matter.
On the 80th anniversary of Pearl Harbor, it is more important than ever to remember why the U.S. went to war.
Places are imbued with sounds, smells, noises, and feelings that bring memories and human connections.
Pearl Harbor remains a place and a response fused into our national memories. Hope for our future is grounded in such memories.
Frederick Douglass is a 19th century prophet whose words still resonate in 21st century America.
Seventy-five years ago today, almost 160,000 troops from the United Kingdom, Canada, and the United States — including smaller contingents from Australia, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, France, Greece, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway and Poland — invaded Nazi-occupied Europe on the beaches of Normandy. Over the next three months of fighting, 209,000 Allied troops would die before the Nazis were pushed back across the Seine. June 6, 1944 — D-Day — should never be forgotten. It was a time when the countries of the world came together to combat bigotry, racism, and hatred. Many men and women made the ultimate sacrifice in that fight. To be in Britain for the 75th anniversary is a reminder of our better natures. We began to see the remembrances of the anniversary as we stepped off the bus in the small Cotswald village of Chipping Campden last week. There, in the center of this beautiful High Street, was a small World War I memorial covered with poppies, the now almost-universal symbol of remembrance for those killed in war. This week, …
In a recent email exchange with some colleagues, I made the mistake of relying on my memory for a budget number instead of first checking our documents. When the mistake was corrected by another on the email trail, I made the excuse that I was working from memory, and added that I should remember not to rely on my memory. A colleague with a very dry wit responded with the quip, “It’s hard to remember not to rely on your memory.” He had me there. I’ve written in the past that, “Memory is a poet, not a historian.” When you need things like budget numbers, we call upon the historian part of the brain, to make sure the figures are correct. But in many instances memory—and especially the poetry of memory—is crucial. Max DePree writes of the times when memory and storytelling come together in powerful ways. He does so to differentiate between what he calls scientific management and tribal leadership. “Every family, every college, every corporation, every institution needs tribal storytellers. The penalty for …