Black Cultural Archives London: the educational power of archives

On the 1st of October, the Black History Month 2020 started. The event celebrates the achievements and impact of Black people in Britain. The editor of Black History Month 2020 Catherine Ross refers to 2020 as the year that held up a mirror to the world, revealing the reality of racism. The #BlackLivesMatter protests around the world stimulate the commitment of the population to educate about Black history, heritage and culture, as well as racism. The relevance of the topic has been widely acknowledged within the United Kingdom. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said about the matter: “It is this contribution of black British people that I am proud to be celebrating Black History Month this October.” Also the University of Glasgow celebrates Black History, offering an accessible academic programme which covers the history of slavery and highlights the story of the university’s alumnus James McCune Smith, who was born into slavery in the 19th century.

While the celebrations and national initiatives of the Black History Month are only limited to the month of October, the Black Cultural Archives (BCA) in London provide access to Black History all year long. Since their foundation in 1981, the archive collects, preserves, and celebrates the histories of African and Caribbean people in Britain. I want to highlight in this  the educational value of the archive’s materials, as its whole existence is based on and originates from the intention and the need to educate.

“Black people have always made history and always will – but it’s equally important that Black people take the lead on how that history is discovered, explored, researched, recorded, archived, curated, exhibited and shared.”

Catherine Ross

If not an archive, what other institution is better positioned to offer all of this under one roof? The community activist Len Garrison shared the same opinion. He founded the Black Cultural Archives to make contemporary black culture and history available to young adults by creating a platform to express their marginalization in British society. As one of the key figures of the Black education movements of the 1960s and 1970s, Garrison first founded the African -Caribbean Education Resource (ACER) Project. At the time, the aim of the program was to collect material relating to the cultural background of black children and use it in schools. Over time, his work with the ACER transformed and the goal of the project became to preserve black British history and make it accessible.

Over the years, the former community archive transformed into a professional archive that meets international quality standards with over 50 square meters of archival material. The archive holds over 3,500 records across 41 collections on the history of Black presence in Britain. The collection contains material reaching from the early Roman records of North African Emperor Septimius Severus, over the pre-colonial maps of Africa, all the way to the records of modern history about African and Caribbean soldiers in the World Wars I and II, as well as resistance movements and pressure groups of the 20th century.

The Black Cultural Archives building in Brixton
(Mark Longair/Flickr)


“Our founders, including the iconic Len Garrison, came to the conclusion that what was needed was a space where members of the community, especially young people, could come and find positive representations of themselves in history and culture.”
– The BCA

The educational mission shows both online and offline (within the archive’s buildings). If I use the categorisation of Laura A. Millar, the archive can be described as the hybrid of a community archive and a museum archive. The BCA stand out with their strong online and social media presence, as well as with physical exhibitions which make the holdings of the collections available to the public and highlight issues of relevance to the community. At the moment, the BCA feature the exhibition “STORIES OF BLACK LEADERSHIP II: BREAKING BARRIERS sponsored by J.P. Morgan” at their exhibition building 1 Windrush Square, Brixton. The exhibition uncovers the journeys of pioneering Black British women who have overcome adversity to make their voice heard. Further, the archives provide extensive learning programmes, including school workshops, lectures, public events and a dynamic youth forum. The goal is to give young people the chance to get deeper insight into how the past shapes ideas about the present and the future.

The collections of the BCA are well presented on their website and easy to navigate through subject guides and an extensive online catalogue of the 41 collections. The subject guides give an introduction and historical overview to the key themes that define the scope, priorities, and responsibilities of the archive. The guides contain a bibliography which supports and encourages further research. While some of the guides cover the Black Women’s Movement or Enslavement, one particular guide gives an introduction about the education of Black children in the UK.






The BCA are very proud that the archive remains rooted in the community that created it. During the foundation period in the early 1980s, the BCA represented the response of the black community activists in London who needed to focus on education in order to reach their goal of overcoming the issues faced by young people. Fast forward to 2020, the archive contributes to the changes happening related to the Black Lives Matter Protests by inspiring and giving a voice to its community under the headline:

Document!:
Black Lives Matter
‘What will the future generations remember of this time?’

The BCA are building a new archive of this moment and ask to donate digital photographs, videos, artworks, petitions, articles and more to create the Black Lives Matter archive. With this initiative, the archive gives the opportunity to the community to have the power over what will be held in the archive and remembered in the future. While individuals and the community are making history through the protests, the BCA make it possible to preserve their ideas and experiences for future generations. By making it accessible to their community, the Black Cultural Archives fulfil their mission to inspire and give strength to the individuals, communities, and society, which proves that the power of archives stems from its ability to connect past, present and future.

Sources and further readings:

Black Cultural Archives: https://blackculturalarchives.org/

Black History Month 2020: https://www.blackhistorymonth.org.uk/

Bastian, Jeannette A.: The records of memory, the archives of identity: celebrations, texts and archival sensibilities; in: Archival Science, 06/2013, Volume 13, Issue 2, 2013, p. 121-131.

Ishmael, Hannah J. M; Waters, Rob: Archive Review: The Black Cultural Archives, Brixton; in: Twentieth Century British History, Volume 28, Issue 3, 09/2017, p. 465-473.

Gordon, Bonnie; Hanna, Lani; Hoyer, Jen; Ordaz,Vero : Archives, education and access: Learning at Interference Archive, in: Radical Teacher, Issue 105, 2016, p. 54-60.

Grosvenor, Ian: From the ‘eye of history’ to ‘a second gaze’: The visual archive and the marginalized in the history of education, in: History of Education, Issue 36:4-5, 2007, p.607-622.

Millar, Laura A., Archives: Principles and Practices, Second Edition edn (London: Facet Publishing, 2017).

Wosh, Peter J.: Reflections on the Public History and Archives Education, in: Journal of Archival Organisation, Issue 15:3-4, 2018, p. 95-99.

The Old Fossil and the American Heretic: The Story of Jenkinson and Schellenberg’s Archival Feud

Sir Hilary Jenkinson and Theodore R. Schellenberg are widely considered to be the co-fathers of modern archival theory. Their input in regards to record-keeping techniques and principles is so substantial that archivists wrestle with their ideas to this day.

They also represent the polar opposites of archival thinking. Jenkinson was a classicist who believed that every record was precious – as long as they were of untainted evidential value. Schellenberg, on the other hand, set world records with his disposal schedules and argued that evidence needed to be supplemented by records of informational value to give future researchers enough to work with. As such, it is an understatement that they were no great admirers of each other’s work.

“I’m tired of having an old fossil cited to me as an authority in archival matters,” – wrote Schellenberg in a private letter and added that Jenkinson’s groundbreaking Manual of Archive Administration (1922) was simply “unreadable”. “Ex America semper aliquid novi,” (“From America always something new,”) – sneered Jenkinson, rather pointedly in Latin, and argued that Schellenberg’s methods were nothing short of a heresy. Their archival feud symbolises the dichotomy between the bureaucratic principles in Europe and America. It is also an example of just how complex and disjointed archival theory is: one theorist’s tenet is another’s worst mistake.

So how did they develop their theories and why did those theories clash? The answer is, quite simply, they lived in different worlds.

Jenkinson worked at the time when the Public Record Office specialized in medieval and early modern records and disregarded contemporary documents. The whole system was based on an archaic English belief in the “gentleman’s honour” among government officials. They were therefore given a card blanche to dispose of their files as they pleased, with little to no oversight from the PRO. Medieval records, on the other hand, were scarce, unique and of significant historical importance. They were also very fragile due to natural decay. Working in such circumstances, it is no wonder that Jenkinson developed a theory that ideally aimed to preserve as much as possible and gave the archivist very little space in terms of appraisal decisions. 

In addition, the English archives did not keep any records whose evidential value had been tainted in any way. This was only possible because the country did not have to cope with war ravages that naturally leave many records scattered, their chain of custody broken. The emphasis was firmly placed on evidential value, excluding any documents that could not stand in a court of law if required. Documents of purely informational value were of little interest to the PRO. The diary of a milkman during the Great Depression? Toss it away. Personal photographs, oral histories and sentimental letters? Not interested. The issues with this approach are quite readily apparent.

They were certainly apparent to Schellenberg who had to work with an unprecedented mass of documents when he joined NARA around the time of the Second World War. The government simply did not have the money to keep everything, and this “dreadful flood of documents” would only frustrate the researchers too. Schellenberg thought that historical research and the principle of the interrelatedness would only be clarified through rigorous pruning procedures. So he went on pruning; destroying – by some estimates – as many as 99% of incoming records.

Schellenberg also believed that records of informational value were important for contextualisation, but he knew that making space for them in the archives would open a can of worms. Appraising such documents was a highly subjective, “imponderable” matter, which gave the archivist a whole lot more influence than Jenkinson was willing to agree with. It can also be argued that Schellenberg essentially required the archivist to be a clairvoyant and predict the future needs of historians without clearly outlying the archival principles for the here and now.

While both Jenkinson and Schellenberg have been contested in modern times, it is important to honour the work they had done for our discipline. Their disagreements offered a fertile ground for archival thinking in succeeding generations. It asked upcoming archivists important questions: Is there such a thing as “universal” archival principles? How much liberty can archivists take with their holdings? Is evidence all that matters? How do we establish criteria for non-evidential materials without turning into a modern-day cabinet of curiosities? Jenkinson and Schellenberg had certainly not provided us with all the answers, but we are still looking for solutions to their questions.

Greene, Mark A., ‘The Power of Meaning: The Archival Mission in the Postmodern Age’, The American Archivist, 65.1 (2002), 42-55

Kolsrud, Ole, ‘The Evolution of Basic Appraisal Principles – Some Comparative Observations’, The American Archivist, 55 (1992), 26-39

Lockwood, Elizabeth, ‘”Imponderable Matters:” The Influence of New Trends in History on Appraisal at the National Archives’, The American Archivist, 53.3 (1990), 394-405

Procter, Margaret, ‘Life Before Jenkinson – the Development of British Archival Theory and Thought at the Turn of the Twentieth Century’, The Journal of the British Records Association, 33.119 (2008), 136-157 <https://doi.org/10.3828/archives.2008.10>

Rasmussen, Hans C., ‘Records Management and the Decline of the English Archival Establishment, 1949-1956’, Libraries & the Cultural Record, 45.4 (2010), 442-468

Rock, Paul. ‘”The dreadful flood of documents”: the 1958 Public Record Act and its aftermath: part 2: after-effects’, Archives: The Journal of British Records Association, 52 (2017), 26-50

Stapleton, Richard, ‘Jenkinson and Schellenberg: A Comparison’, Archivaria 17 (Winter 1983-1984), 75-85

Vincent, David, ‘”History must be written imperfectly”: Closure and disclosure in British public records 1838-2006’, in Freedom of Information: Open Access, Empty Archives?, ed. by Andrew Flinn and Harriet Jones (London and New York: Routledge, 2009), 9-22

The Digital Landscape of the Indigenous Archive

In this period of social isolation, we have found ourselves lucky to be enriched with a quality of technology that allows us to connect to one another through the online. As a feature that has been recognised during the Covid-19 pandemic to connect family and friends together during isolation, the digital landscape is even more recognisable for its ability to connect to others not just across cities or countries but across the world.

As we experience a period of digital gratification and arguably head to further renovation and improvement, it is important to recognise the transnational influence of the digital landscape. Stepping away from the mindset of managing Western archives, the management and (digital) preservation of Indigenous archives is worth recognising and discussing in greater detail, especially as a cultural turn is ensuring that new and dignified approaches are being taken to the handling of Indigenous materials.  

It is important to mention that I have not written this blog post to amplify my own voice over those of Indigenous archivists and scholars, but rather to educate myself and others about Indigenous archives. Throughout the blog post and listed at the end are a variety of references and resources compiled by Indigenous professionals and institutions collaborating with Indigenous communities.

The Akwesasne Notes is a radical newspaper which was first published in the December of 1968 as a monthly republishing of articles from a range of newspapers to bring news to American Indians regarding a protest that happened earlier that year. As its circulation grew, it became the foremost radical Native newspaper in North America. Whilst it is no longer published, it can not be argued that the newspaper did little to promote the sovereignty of Native nations.  

My experience of working with the Akwesasne Notes was during my undergraduate studies at the University of Stirling. Recognizing the importance of this field of study in the acknowledgment of racial injustices and the education and propagation of Indigenous voices in the fight for their sovereignty, I decided to write my dissertation project on the transnational activism of the Akwesasne Mohawk community (where the Akwesasne Notes was published).

Akwesasne Notes, “Akwesasne Notes vol. 17 no. 1,” American Indian Digital History Project, accessed October 14, 2020, http://www.aidhp.com/items/show/76.

It was the writing of this project where the magic of digitization came into play, a thing that would have a more lasting impact than I first realised… 

Due to my location in Scotland, whilst struggling to source issues of the Akwesasne Notes that I would be able to use for my project, I uncovered the work of the American Indian Digital History Project (AIDHP). A Digital History Cooperative focused on the recovering and preservation of rare Indigenous materials from across North America, AIDHP had digitized and made available a large number of the Akwesasne Notes issues. Furthermore, they have digitized The American Indian Magazine, Indian Voice, as well as other archival materials.

As a free, searchable and accessible resource, I found AIDHP to be an invaluable resource. Ultimately, it was this that led me to understand the importance of the role that information management and preservation plays in the research of historians as well as accessibility to the general public. I would say that it led to my application as an Information Management & Preservation student.

What is the difference between researching digital indigenous archives as a historian compared to as an archivist?

Simply put, my position as an information management and information student has provided a new perspective of indigenous archives and digitization.

Whilst an understanding of the political uses of the archive as a historian are evident, there is an acknowledgement as an information management professional that the archive is inherently political. Archival repositories are not neutral but have controlled the histories of Indigenous peoples through the management and dissemination of materials according to those who appropriate the materials instead of by and with the indigenous communities that they rightfully belong to.

Jennifer O’Neal is a professor based at the University of Oregon, who has written several publications on the development of guidelines for stewardship of collections in collaboration with Indigenous communities. She brings to the forefront an important aspect of this stewardship when she discusses the change of approach to the management of Indigenous materials: “not just about restricting access or returning collections, but finally giving Indigenous communities control over their histories, centering their traditional knowledge, and undoing historic trauma.”

What is the centring of indigenous knowledge systems?

Simply put, centring indigenous knowledge systems is the intent and action of learning about and respecting the history of Indigenous communities and traditional knowledge, centring them within the archive.

O’Neal defines indigenous systems of knowledge as “the philosophies and community practices of Indigenous peoples as they maintain connections to place, language, history, and ceremony”. Until the mid-twentieth century, few Indigenous communities produced written records, instead choosing to orally pass down their histories.

By recognizing and respecting the fact that Indigenous archives embody many types of knowledge, we can begin to ‘decolonize’ the archives, by understanding that the practices of Western archives are harmful to the existence of Indigenous space, cultural practices, and knowledge systems.

Collaboration is essential to this process, and important to be kept in mind by the archivist that is managing Indigenous archives. By working closely with Indigenous communities, archives can be provided the missing context and traditional knowledge required to treat them respectfully.

As this has increasingly been recognized, there has been a growing trend within recent years of digital repositories being created by institutions in partnership with Indigenous communities, as well as the creation of digital archives which are managed and maintained by Indigenous communities themselves.

Long inaccessible to Indigenous communities, the access of digital archives and collaboration with Western institutions has allowed a plethora of projects to be undertaken that are culturally important to Indigenous communities, such as with Jessie Little Doe’s work to bring back the Wampanoag language.

A film produced about Jessie Little Doe and her work to bring back the Wampanoag language.
Make Peace Productions, “We Still Live Here: Âs Nutayuneân”, accessed October 14, 2020, https://www.makepeaceproductions.com/wampfilm.html.

The creation and maintenance of AIDHP is a similar form of collaboration between institutions and Indigenous communities, as they were founded to forge digital collaboration with Indigenous communities with the purpose of better informing scholarship and research about Indigenous peoples. Currently they are a cooperative partnership between the University of Kansas, the University of Nebraska at Omaha (UNO), Tribal communities, Tribal Colleges, Native organizations, Libraries, Universities/Colleges, and the larger public.

What resources are available for respectful management of indigenous archives?

Due to the growing recognition of the political biases that exist within archives, there are guidelines that can be adopted by organisations that incorporate the centring of traditional knowledge, such as the Protocols for Native American Archival Materials and the Canadian Aboriginal Archives Guide. A similar document that can be viewed as a policy tool for the development, management and stewardship of Indigenous archives is the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP).

Beyond this, there are numerous resources and publications that provide education and guidance for the management of indigenous archives. One such resource being the following compilation by the Archives Association of British Columbia.

For further reading on the subject of Indigenous Archives, Afterlives of Indigenous Archives is an excellent resource from which the Jennifer O’Neal chapter was referenced earlier in the blog post.

Despite not being an exhaustive list, the fact remains that these are a small list of resources that can be used as tools to learn about and respect the history, culture, and lifeways of Indigenous communities. By following these resources, which espouse notions such as the centring of traditional knowledge and collaboration, archivists and other professionals can begin to approach the material found within Indigenous archives with dignity.

Sources:

American Indian Digital History Project, About (2020)
<http://www.aidhp.com/about&gt; [accessed 8 October 2020].

Bruce E. Johansen and Barbara A. Mann, Encyclopedia of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Publishing Group, Incorporated, 2000).

Jennifer O’Neal, ‘From Time Immemorial: Centering Indigenous Traditional Knowledge and Ways of Knowing in the Archival Paradigm’, in Afterlives of Indigenous Archives, ed. by Ivy Schweitzer and Gordon Henry Jr (Hanover, New Hampshire: Dartmouth College Press, 2019).

Laurence M. Hauptman, The Iroquois Struggle for Survival: World War II to Red Power (New York: Syracuse University Press, 1986).

 

Digitisation Decision Making and Access During Covid-19

Covid-19 has presented us all with a range of challenges, personally and professionally. Restrictions have made archives, libraries and museums across the globe rethink access and how we provide vital services to the public. I’d like to focus on the role of digital collections and digitisation projects in providing access to archive and library collections at a time when in-person access is greatly reduced.

Re-opening procedures have been on the forefront of our minds in the UK since we closed and institutions have been striving to take the steps they can to reopen. Services across the board have been slowly reopening in a reduced capacity, needing to take into account social distancing, stringent hygiene protocols and quarantining of used materials. Understandably this has been difficult for staff and users alike, and a recent tweet from Historian Guy Walters prompted backlash after writing a letter outlining ‘appalling access restrictions’ at The National Archives (TNA). 

Embedded Tweet from the account of  historian Guy Walters @guywalters which reads ‘I’ve written to @OliverDowden, Sec of State at @DCMS, asking him to look into the appalling access restrictions at @UkNatArchives. De facto closure is having a catastrophic effect on the production of historical works. If you care about history and agree with me, then please RT.’ Images are attached of the typed letter and hand-written envelope, as well as screenshots of the contents of the letter.

After reading the letter and seeing that TNA is open for less than 5 hours a day, one might think that as analogue materials and physical archive visits are limited, an alternative could be found. If we can’t access collections in person, why not digitise as many materials as we can so people can access them remotely? In theory this would provide a solution to the question of access, however the practicalities behind mass digitisation aren’t so straightforward. 

Benefits of Digitisation

There are several advantages to digitisation, and the one that springs to mind first is preservation. Fragile or damaged materials that can’t withstand a lot of handling may be chosen for digitisation to allow access without endangering the physical copy. Materials that are handled frequently also fall into this category for preservation, with surrogate copies often being made available. This allows the original document to be cared for and preserved while providing accessibility, either in digital or analogue surrogate form.  

Digital collections mean access can be granted to documents that might be difficult to access physically. In normal circumstances, researchers and those with an interest in certain collections might need to travel long distances to view physical copies of materials, which is often costly in time and money. In the current pandemic being able to access items remotely from the comfort of your own home, whether for personal interest or research, is a fantastic resource. Institutions like the British Library have been expanding their digital collections, including the recent release of 18,000 images of maps and related texts once owned by King George III through Flickr. This gives users the chance to access collections like these digitally, safely from home. Digitisation projects like these have been ongoing for years, but the current access restrictions certainly highlight the need for remote access to collections.

Promoting institutional collections also becomes easier when items are digitised. In an era where social media has the reach it does, being able to engage with the wider public and raise awareness of what is held in their archives or library allows institutions to increase their collections visibility. This outreach alerts users to what is available in these collections, with social media accounts often signposting how the materials can be accessed. Recent additions to the Smithsonian Archives, for example, are publicised through their Twitter, linking their blog which then explains the collections and tells users how and where to access them.

Embedded Tweet from Smithsonian Archives account @SmithsonianArch which reads ‘In between endless snack breaks, we’ve been busy making our collections more available to you online. We’ve recently added: 3,120 historical images, 696 new or revised finding aids, 37 finding aids with new links to digitized materials More → http://s.si.edu/3lKSDuO‘ The image displayed beneath is a sepia toned photo of a triceratops skeleton and  a stuffed whale on display at an exhibition in an industrial-looking building.

As a result of Covid-19 restrictions, libraries, archives and museums have needed to increase their online presence to highlight the services and materials they can still provide, and digitised items have been key connecting with users. A number of hashtag campaigns have been active during the pandemic, many of which like #ExploreYourArchive and #LibrariesAtHome have been used to promote online collections and resources. Some of these are summarised by Christina Kamposiori in a blog for Research Libraries UK (RLUK). The Museum of English Rural Life (MERL) has been using digitised images with amusing captions to engage with social media followers and even to join in with trends such as ‘how it started vs how it’s going’ transformation photos.

Embedded Tweet from The Museum of English Rural Life account @MERL which reads ‘How it started How it’s going’. Below the ‘How it started’ text is a black and white photo of a farmer examining two new-born lambs next to a ewe. Below the ‘How it’s going’ text is a black and white photo of a very large, full grown ram with impressive horns at a showground.

Laura Millar (2017) explains that archives and records professionals need to strike a balance between engaging with social media outreach and their archival responsibilities. Perhaps we need to ask if the balance is shifting during the global pandemic, and will archives have to rely more heavily on promoting and raising awareness of their collections through social media? Will digitised collections form the basis for this moving forward?

Challenges of Digitisation

Although there are multiple benefits for digitisation, there are a number of challenges faced when considering digitisation projects. The biggest issue is arguably the time and cost it takes to digitise materials. Specialist equipment and hiring additional staff to work on projects is costly, as is outsourcing to external companies to digitise. With stretched funding digitisation may not be a priority, especially for smaller organisations. Budget concerns for digitisation don’t just rest in producing digital surrogates; it’s also key to have the funding to maintain additional metadata needed for the files, adequate storage and future digital preservation. In the spate of budget cuts since Covid-19 hit, digitisation projects will likely need to be scaled back for lots of institutions as they balance staff, budgets and service delivery.

Another issue is the question of quantity over quality of the digital surrogates being created. Andrew Prescott and Lorna Hughes (2018) have argued that in a rush to mass digitise documents in libraries and archives, key material features of documents can be lost in the push for content creation. This poses a key question for institutions that manage to maintain funding for digitisation projects during and post-Covid. Do you try and digitise as many documents as possible that meet your appraisal criteria, or do you explore more advanced imaging techniques to capture more detail and better represent the document materiality? I could go into a lot more detail on this, but I’d highly recommend the 2018 essay by Prescott and Hughes for a detailed case study on slow digitisation.

Where from here?

The responses of each archive, library and museum to the challenges presented by Covid-19 will be different and I’m sure will prompt new ways of viewing things that will inform digitisation and digital collections decision making.

Even the new protocols in the current pandemic such as rigorous hand washing and avoiding face touching have helped some professionals to get a new perspective on digitisation moving forward. An interesting example is Marlena Cravens, working in the Preservation Research and Testing Division (PRTD) at the Library of Congress. She often works with materials containing metal-based pigments that require cautious handling, however not all can be identified without testing, and some documents are handled prior to identifying potentially harmful compounds. As she believes Covid-19 will lead to more resources being digitised generally, digital versions of these documents will help safeguard users and archivists against risks in handling the materials by giving an alternate way to access them in digital surrogate form.

There is no definitive answer to how institutions will move forward with digitisation projects through the pandemic, but the benefits and challenges of digitisation will likely be the subject of much debate in the months to come. What we can be sure of is that institutions will be nudged into reconsidering how users can access services, and likely changing the way that users and organisations interact with digital collections. 

Referenced Materials & Further Reading

Cravens, Marlena  Unknown Pigments and Digitization in the Age of COVID-19 (2020) <https://www.clir.org/2020/04/unknown-pigments-and-digitization-in-the-age-of-covid-19/> [accessed 13 October 2020].

Harper, Tom The K.Top: 18,000 digitised maps and views released (2020) <https://blogs.bl.uk/magnificentmaps/2020/10/the-ktop-18000-digitised-maps-and-views-released.html?_ga=2.126764874.656801998.1602582225-729976429.1599746587&_gac=1.218293995.1602253557.CjwKCAjwlID8BRAFEiwAnUoK1ViZIaOPZeXP3rC3YPvY-8TJ-w_Z30Zv0pku8YcGGqdDCfywy2TCGRoCeyYQAvD_BwE> [accessed 14 October 2020].

IFLA, Now and Next: What a Post-COVID World May Bring for Libraries (2020) <https://blogs.ifla.org/lpa/2020/04/06/now-and-next-what-a-post-covid-world-may-bring-for-libraries/> [accessed 13 October 2020].

Kamposiori, Christina, The value of digital collections and resources in the era of Covid-19 (2020) <https://www.rluk.ac.uk/the-value-of-digital-collections-and-resources-in-the-era-of-covid-19/> [accessed 9 October 2020].

Millar, Laura A., Archives: Principles and Practices, Second Edition edn (London: Facet Publishing, 2017), p. 255-261.

The National Archives, The National Archives now open, offering greater access to our collections (2020) <https://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/about/news/coronavirus-update/> [accessed 9 October 2020].

Peters, Tammy  Collection Highlights: New Additions to the Archives Website (2020) <https://siarchives.si.edu/blog/collection-highlights-new-additions-archives-website-2> [accessed 14 October 2020].

Prescott, Andrew, Hughes, Lorna , Why Do We Digitize? The Case for Slow Digitization (2018) <https://www.archivejournal.net/essays/why-do-we-digitize-the-case-for-slow-digitization/> [accessed 9 October 2020].

For more archival chatter follow me on Twitter @AshRCharlton

Occasional frenemies: records and democracy

Image: pxfuel

What is the relationship between archives/records and democracy? The idealised vision of what this relationship should look like is articulated in the Universal Declaration on Archives in the following way: ‘[Archives] are authoritative sources of information underpinning accountable and transparent administrative actions. They play an essential role in the development of societies by safeguarding and contributing to individual and community memory. Open access to archives enriches our knowledge of human society, promotes democracy, protects citizens’ rights and enhances the quality of life.’[1] Formulated in this way, democracy and archives are painted as stable concepts—as sacred and immutable foundations of human society and human life. In reality, however, democracy and archives are fluid, imperfect, political, and complex.

The nexus of archives/records and democracy will be examined here by juxtaposing two articles: Jarrett M. Drake’s ‘Insurgent Citizens: The Manufacture of Police Records in Post-Katrina New Orleans and Its Implications for Human Rights’ and Kristen Weld’s ‘No Democracy Without Archives’. Drake analyses the police shootings that occurred in New Orleans’ Danziger Bridge in 2005—six days after Hurricane Katrina struck the city—and the subsequent fabrication of records, while Weld traces the rise and fall of the Guatemala’s National Police archives, which have helped prosecute officials for their wrongdoings during the civil war. These articles, focused on police records, expose contrasting facets in the entanglements between democracy, the state, its citizens, public records, and justice. 

The case studies in these articles have led to three observations: (a) that democracy and its purported transparency can prove to be a double-edged sword and hinder truthful accounts; and following this, (b) that records and archives are limited and mutable and, by extension, the systems of government and justice that they underpin; and (c) that records/archives and governmental infrastructures have agencies and histories of their own.

Before diving into an existential critique of records and archives, it must be noted that records do provide a basis for reconstructing events and keeping individuals and societies accountable. In relation to war crimes, for example, records and archives have been crucial to investigations into human rights violations. Japanese-Canadian citizens used them to pursue reparations for their treatment during the Second World War.[2] They have been essential to the restitution efforts of Holocaust victims’ assets.[3] They played a key role in the prosecution of perpetrators of mass violence during the Khmer Rouge[4] as well as that of many state officials in Guatemala for their roles during the civil war—the topic of Weld’s article and 2014 book, Paper Cadavers: The Archives of Dictatorship in Guatemala.[5]

After Guatemala’s civil war, the government, with continued close ties to the military, denied the public access to wartime records. Thus, historical reckoning was almost impossible, and those who sought reparations or attempted to prosecute the perpetrators of mass killings and incarceration were targets of military violence. In 2005, however, human rights investigators accidentally discovered a warehouse full of police files, and a massive rescue effort to restore and digitise millions of rotting and mouldy documents ensued. Among these documents was detailed information that would provide evidence for war crimes that would ‘transform this archive of terror into an archive of justice.’ In 2016, however, a new conservative president was elected with connections to Guatemala’s military high command. (He had, ironically, campaigned under the slogan ‘Neither corrupt, nor a thief’.[6]) The attempted prosecution of one of them led to a reversal of fate for the National Police archive, and access became restricted once again in 2019.[7]

In the Danziger Bridge case, seven New Orleans police officers and a local sheriff shot six civilians on 4 September 2005, killing two people and wounding the other four. No officers were shot, yet the official report listed the eight police officers under ‘Victims’ and four civilians under ‘Perpetrators’ with the motive left as ‘unknown’. Part of the cause was attributed to the chaos that followed Hurricane Katrina.[8] Two civil lawsuits accused the police department of producing false reports with gaping holes in the narratives. Amendments were traced back to one lieutenant whose cover story would incriminate one of the survivors. The Justice Department and a grand jury indicted officers on twenty-seven counts for fabrication of evidence, including fake witness interviews and a planted gun. A subsequent federal investigation revealed ‘a broad pattern or practice of unlawful misconduct by NOPD officers’.[9]

Firstly, as the cases in both Guatemala and New Orleans demonstrate, democracy comes in many shades, can be fragile, and is not immediately conducive to transparency, accountability, or social justice. In fact, there is a paradox in the cover-ups in both cases: the pressure of governmental transparency may have added to the incentive to fabricate or hinder access to records.

On the flip side, because a military or authoritarian regime does not face public pressure or motivation to divulge its secrets, it may be a better environment for producing detailed, extensive, and truthful records and maintaining them intact. This may be an oversimplification, but in a way, the demands of democracy can be a double-edged sword, especially when it comes to public records and evidence in hostile situations.

Secondly, ‘records are limited vehicles in their ability to retain evidence and serve as probative instruments’.[10] Records are limited in both content and form. The content of records are ‘a sliver of a sliver of a sliver of a window’, as described by Verne Harris.[11] In addition, they are mutable and part of a process rather than the end product, as demonstrated in the New Orleans case and as argued by Drake.

Records can be interpretations and choices. The Guatemalan case shows that ‘archival access and management are fundamentally political’ and that ‘the intelligence gathered in the past about human rights advocates could be weaponized against them a second time as they continue to seek justice’, as Weld notes in her analysis.

Further, the form records take can be inherently limited—whether physical or digital—and can be prone to decay. The ramifications of the limited and mutable nature of records and archives have important ramifications for democratic government and for collective memory and justice.

Thirdly, these two case studies exemplify how records/archives as well as governmental infrastructures have histories and agencies of their own. Drake argues that ‘while archivists assume that creators of records have a history, the shootings and cover-up at Danziger offer the lens that records themselves can carry a history as dynamic and pivotal as that of their creators.’[12]

The same could be said of the police files in Guatemala, as they undergo various stages of access, custodianship, restoration, and digitisation. As records and the structures that contain and sustain them keep changing, they and their histories have tangible consequences on human lives and human rights. They are not simply static objects but rather entities that shape, and are in turn shaped by, our societies.

Having argued that records/archives may not contain evidentiary value, their possible inauthenticity and mutability nevertheless do not immediately imply that they are less worthy of being maintained and preserved. Records—fabricated or not—still constitute ‘decisions, actions and memories’[13] in a particular place and time, and based on particular motives. They may not provide authentic information, but they should be kept as part of the history of the record itself as well as of the system that enabled it. Records must be approached critically, and the relationship between records/archives and democracy must not be taken for granted.

[1] ‘Universal Declaration on Archives | International Council on Archives’ <https://www.ica.org/en/universal-declaration-archives> [accessed 14 October 2020].

[2] Jarrett M. Drake, ‘Insurgent Citizens: The Manufacture of Police Records in Post-Katrina New Orleans and Its Implications for Human Rights’, Archival Science, 14.3 (2014), 365–80 (p. 368) <https://doi.org/10.1007/s10502-014-9224-2>.

[3] ‘Turning History into Justice: Holocaust-Era Assets Records, Research, and Restitution’, National Archives, 2016 <https://www.archives.gov/research/holocaust/articles-and-papers/turning-history-into-justice.html> [accessed 15 October 2020].

[4] Drake, p. 368.

[5] Kirsten Weld, ‘No Democracy Without Archives’, Boston Review, 2020 <https://bostonreview.net/global-justice/kirsten-weld-no-democracy-without-archives> [accessed 14 October 2020].

[6] ‘Presidente Jimmy Morales reitera que no es corrupto ni ladrón – Prensa Libre’ <https://www.prensalibre.com/guatemala/politica/presidente-jimmy-morales-pide-al-tse-que-sea-supremo-para-el-proceso-electoral-2019/> [accessed 15 October 2020].

[7] Weld.

[8] Drake, p. 371.

[9] Drake, p. 374.

[10] Drake, p. 377.

[11] Verne Harris, ‘The Archival Sliver: Power, Memory, and Archives in South Africa’, Archival Science, 2.1 (2002), 63–86 (p. 65) <https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02435631>.

[12] Drake, p. 378.

[13] ‘Universal Declaration on Archives | International Council on Archives’.

Archivist and Historian: Natural Bedfellows

The Archivist and the Historian. The Hare and the Tortoise. Simon and Garfunkel. Name a more iconic duo? However, similarly to the latter coupling on this list, the former has also shared somewhat of a fraught relationship.Though separate vocations in their own right, there has been a long shared history between these two worlds, which has included some manner of cross-pollination.

The 1929 crash. Photo by Fox Photos/Getty Images

The 1929 economic crash brought mass unemployment and social upheaval to the United States, leaving professionals of all backgrounds discontent and destitute. Looking to combat this economic downturn, the Roosevelt Administration introduced a large scale program to put its citizens back into work. Along the lines of the current UK Government’s Rethink, Reskill, Reboot campaign, but without the added controversy . . .

From this program was born the Historical Records Survey of the Works Progress Administration for unemployed members of the historian profession and recent university graduates. Through this project emerged a generation of historians-turned-archivists who gained their skills through necessity and experience, in response to the lack of public record organisation, resources and laws. This budding generation of archivists would soon emerge as the founders of The Society of American Archivists, a pillar of our modern profession.

Despite this example of cross-over between the two occupations, the opinions held toward each other, have not always been cordial ones. According to Patrick M. Quinn, in the past historians have tended to view archivists in the same manner as ‘filling station attendants’, hugely diminishing their importance. While archivists have supposedly viewed historians with ‘resentment’ and ‘jealousy’, borne from their own ‘failed’ history careers.

Brick Hod-Carrier (Source: Wikipedia)

This is not to say that he believed the alliance between the two would not improve when writing in 1977. ‘If in the past the historian has been the bricklayer and the archivist the hod-carrier, the future will witness an equalisation of these roles.’ The prediction of the Archival profession becoming an important entity in its own right, and not just an extension of librarianship or historical research, was wholly accurate as we see today.

Historians are the work-horses of long-term social memory. They strive for integrity in their research and wish to produce objective truth, through which they rely on the authenticity of their historical sources. Often overlooked in this quest for truth, is the role of the keepers of these historical sources. When approaching this collaboration from a historians point of view it seems easy to think of the archivist and their archives as a docile attendant, biding their time waiting for the opportunity to offer up bountiful information for their historian overlords.

However, as Dr. Lionel Loew points out, archives are not ‘passive’ places where information merely ‘sits’ awaiting the day it is put to use. On the contrary, the decisions that an archivist makes day-to-day can have a real impact on the historical research conducted down the line. Historians access only the historical information which has been deemed by the archivist as ‘worthy’ to keep. Through deciding what is to be accessioned into a collection, an archivist curates what is available to researchers, a role which can never be downplayed.

(Source: Lisa P. Rickey)

Further to this, when accessing the information, a historian must rely on the archivist to ‘assess the credibility of a record’, ensuring that their statements can be supported with legitimate evidence. An archive is a vast collection of information which would seem overwhelming to a researcher, and thus an archivist must be depended on to find the right documents with relative speed and accuracy. Without the archivists in-depth knowledge of their collections and the authenticity of the information, a historian would be left floundering under a mass of un-curated knowledge.

Having demonstrated the ways in which these two natural bedfellows depend on one another, it seems inevitable that collaboration will be an ever present facet of their separate careers. This begs the questions, how can the relationship be maintained in a positive way, ensuring the outcome bears fruit for both parties?

When considering this working partnership, Anna St.Onge suggests some approaches which both parties can adopt to ensure a smooth process. These include being aware and considerate of the limitations and constraints present in each of their respective professions. Also, having open and full communication, including reading each others research and understanding the current conversations occurring in each discipline. This allows for a deeper understanding of the motivations behind actions. Lastly, listen openly to complaints and give full and ample acknowledgement of each others work. As Anna puts it ‘sharing is caring, friends, but full citation is an act of reciprocal respect.‘

Like that of a begrudging sibling, these two occupations will always be inextricably linked. It is through understanding the impact and importance each role plays on the other that strong inter relations can be born. Having open communication and fully appreciating the work of both parties, can lead to a highly valuable union.

Carrier, Richard C., ‘The Function of the Historian in Society’, The History Teacher
Vol. 35, No. 4 (2002), https://www.jstor.org/stable/1512473?seq=2#metadata_info_tab_contents (Accessed 14 October 2020)

‘Rethink. Reskill. Reboot: Why Government retraining campaign advert from 2019 was pulled after backlash’, i News (2020), https://inews.co.uk/news/uk/rethink-rekill-reboot-government-rertaining-campaign-advert-2019-quiz-backlash-pulled-714159 (Accessed 14 October 2020)

Jessiekratz, ‘The origins of the Society of American Archivists’, National Archives Pieces of History (2018), https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2018/08/13/the-origins-of-the-society-of-american-archivists/ (Accessed 14 October 2020)

Loew, Dr Lionel, ‘The influence of Archivists on Historians’, SAA Business Archives Section Quarterly (N.D), https://basnewsonline.com/project/the-influence-of-archivists-on-historians, (Accessed 14 October)

St.Onge, Anna, ‘Collaboration between archivists and historians: finding a middle ground’, Archive History (2017), https://activehistory.ca/2017/06/collaboration-between-archivists-and-historians-finding-a-middle-ground%E2%9C%9D/ (Accessed 14 October 2020)

Quinn, Patrick M., ‘Archivists and Historians: The Times They Are A-Changin”, The Midwestern Archivist Issue 2.2 (1977), https://minds.wisconsin.edu/bitstream/handle/1793/44116/MA02_2_2.pdf?sequence=3&isAllowed=y (Accessed 14 October)

Cover Image: Milo Winter (1919) https://fablesofaesop.com/the-hare-and-the-tortoise.html

The lost Grenfell Tower records: oversight or archival mismanagement?

When investigating the causes of the 2017 Grenfell Tower fire, it was recently discovered by the inquiry that emails, documents, and design drawings relating to the refurbishment at Grenfell Tower were lost forever after being wiped from a laptop. Was this an oversight or was it an instance of grievous archival mismanagement? 

Hearing from the previous design manager Daniel Anketell-Jones, who worked for the firm Harley Facades until March 2016, the Grenfell Tower inquiry heard that he had deleted all of the files from the computer which he kept when he left the company. Anketell-Jones stated that he made the “assumption” that the information would be retained on the company’s server, which was not the case.

In his witness statement, the Harley managing director Ray Bailey stated that Anketell-Jones contacted and arranged with the service provider to remove his email file from the Harley Facades systems. When asked about it, Anketell-Jones was confused about Bailey’s statement and stated that: “I didn’t arrange for that to happen. I don’t think I have the authority or the security to do that.”

It sounds as if Anketell-Jones is denying responsibility for the loss of the files, claiming that it wasn’t his role to ensure that they were backed up correctly. This is a failure on his part as creator of the files, however there is clearly fault on the wider company for the information management procedures (or lack of) that led to the situation at hand. 

However, as we examine the public reaction around this situation on the social media platform Twitter, we can see that there is a mixed public response. 

There is an outrage regarding the accidental deletion of the files, with many pointing out that the permanent loss of information is extremely serious. Some Twitter users have put forward speculation that the deletion of the files were not “accidental”, as it seems incredulous that there was such incompetence present that there was no back-up whatsoever.  

Interestingly though is the public response of those who downplayed the significance of the deleted documents. Some Twitter users emphasize Anketell-Jones’ statement that there were “likely” no files relating to Grenfell Tower on his computer, claiming that the incident is not so serious as a result. 

Examining the nonchalant attitude displayed by some of the public regarding what could be very important files for the Grenfell Tower inquiry, it is interesting to think why this attitude is the case?

Simply argued, there is a definite lack of awareness regarding proper storage and preservation of digital documents, which is reflected on a societal level. Rosenzweig pointed this out when discussing recordkeeping practices within the US federal government when he said that electronic documents such as emails were deleted “because employees didn’t know what to do with them”. In other words, the deletion and potential mismanagement of digital documents does not seem to be an unusual occurrence, rather it has become commonplace in a modern world in which people manage their own digital documents from day-to-day.   

Even were we to blame the fragile nature of digital records as the cause of the problem, when we remove this factor and consider the proper storage and preservation of analogue materials, there are examples of similar mismanagement.

The Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969 was a huge moment in the ‘space race’ between the United States and the Soviet Union. Appropriately, NASA recorded the event on “several hundred original slow-scan television recordings”. After the end of the mission and many years later, it was discovered that these tapes had vanished. After extensively searching the archives, the most likely story of their fate was that it was determined that there was no need to keep the tapes because the data was recorded elsewhere, and that the tapes were erased and reused. 

July 16, 1969 - Members of the Kennedy Space Center government-industry team rise from their consoles within the Launch Control Center to watch the Apollo 11 liftoff through the large windows at the back of the firing room. Among those pictured is American aerospace engineer JoAnn H. Morgan (seated center, with hand on chin) who, at the time, was NASA's only female engineer.
(source: The Atlantic)

What does the example of the Apollo 11 tapes show us about appropriate security measures and procedures?

I would say that a danger to the existence of digital and analogue documents are the creators of those documents themselves, or those that maintain them. Especially when the documents are subjected to a fragile digital nature, where they can be permanently erased at the click of a button. This danger must be taken into account when we think about disaster planning within organisations for the preservation of documents. 

Therefore, when we return to the subject of the lost Grenfell Tower files, sound record management policies are essential to operational continuity, transparency, and societal accountability.  

Were proactive digital management strategies undertaken by Harley, this would have mitigated the loss of this important information which is critical not only on an internal level but clearly on a broader, public level. 

What resources are available that organisations have access to for planning these digital management strategies? 

In readying disaster preparedness plans, various tools are available that can assist organisations with assessing and mitigating risk, such as the Digital Repository Audit Method Based on Risk Assessment (DRAMBORA) developed by the Digital Curation Centre (DCC) and the DigitalPreservationEurope (DPE), the National Archives’ Information Management Self-Assessment Tool, and the Digital Preservation Coalition’s Rapid Assessment Model. These tools can help organisations quickly assess how they are currently doing in terms of digital information management, help them set benchmarks, and identify a reasonable, tailored course of action.

As well as these tools there are also general, standardised guidelines that can be adopted and adapted by and for organisations. These guidelines include the ISO/PAS 22399:2007 and the NDSA’s Levels of Preservation matrix, both of which can be useful in developing incident preparedness and continuity measures. 

By creating data management strategies and implementing them, an organisation can mitigate the risks of data mismanagement, such as in the case of Anketell-Jones’ missing files on the Grenfell Tower refurbishment. 

Author: Craig Reilly with the help of sIMPly archivists

Blogging with IMPunity…

This blog is managed and written by a group of aspiring archivists currently undertaking the Information Management and Preservation course at the University of Glasgow. The course aims to develop and refine professional skills related to the management of archives and records both in their physical and digital forms. In this small archive of ours you will find posts about our experiences, and reflections on selected topics of interests.

Craig Reilly

During my undergraduate degree in History and Philosophy at the University of Stirling, my  dissertation project was the first time I had properly worked with digitized documents, in the form of a database of the Akwesasne Notes newspapers. After completing my studies in 2018, I worked as a library and information assistant at Elgin Library. With further experience of working with archival documents in the heritage centre, I was inspired to pursue a postgraduate degree in information management and preservation. I am unsure as to my ideal career but I am excited to explore the possibilities! A fun fact about myself is that I enjoy cooking very much, and spent the course of lockdown learning how to make delicious naan bread to use as a side for my vegetarian curries.

Giulia Di Trapani


I completed a joint MA in History of Art and English at the University of Aberdeen in 2019, and an MSc in Collecting and Provenance in an International Context at the University of Glasgow in 2020. As part of that course, I was selected to take part in the Foulis Brothers project, and worked in collaboration with the UofG ASC in order to catalogue books sold to the university during the 17th Century, as well as to restore part of their metadata. Furthermore, while working in the Special Collections, I also managed to authenticate some incunables now listed in the Glasgow Incunabula Project page. My ideal job would be either to work in a queer community archive, or in a museum one. 
Fun fact about me: I have been running a Dungeons and Dragons campaign for three years now. 

Giedre Marozaite


I have completed an MA in Comparative Literature/History of Art at the University of Glasgow before deciding to pursue a career in records management. I have volunteered at the Endangered Archives Project at Zooniverse to make 19th-20th century Siberian photographs more accessible to researchers. This experience made me see how important classification is, as uncategorized materials are as difficult to find as a needle in a haystack. Ideally, I would like to work in the private sector, but you cannot be too picky in the current job market! As for a fun fact – there is no humble way of putting it, but I am a bit of a Picasso of latte art.

Ash Charlton



I completed my English Language and History undergraduate degree at the University of Glasgow in 2017. While studying, I worked as a digitisation intern at the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow Library, focusing on college minutebooks from 1599-1807. This was a fantastic opportunity to get hands-on experience of 2D digitisation and helped me decide to pursue a career in archives. As I’m particularly interested in codicology and digital representations of texts, my ideal job would be working with rare books and manuscripts. Fun fact: I’m also a big photography fan and spent lockdown teaching myself how to use an analogue camera.

Casey Moore


I received my Masters in Public History at the University of North Carolina Charlotte in 2017 where I worked in Special Collections and University Archives. I then worked on two oral history projects surrounding a Charlotte school shooting and neighborhood gentrification. For the past three years, I’ve worked as a Collections Specialist at the Carolinas Aviation Museum overseeing their archive and working on aircraft preservation and conservation. Ideal job: to work as an archivist in an academic setting or another quirky museum. Fun Fact: For three years I cleaned and cared for our most famous airplane, the “Miracle on the Hudson” Airbus A320 which landed in the Hudson River in 2009 and in which the movie Sully is based.

Rachel Talbot


I completed my Journalism and French studies undergraduate degree at Stirling University in 2018. After pursuing a variety of different roles after graduation, including on a Heritage kiosk point at the Edinburgh Castle and as a runner at STV, I decided to return to education to pursue a career in Information Management. I have recently volunteered in the Ullapool Museum and remotely for the University of Stirling Archives. I immensely enjoyed indexing previous issues of the Brig newspaper. Currently my ideal job would be working in a TV or Film studio archives. I am an avid lover of Middle Eastern food and I am heavily addicted to Baba Ghanoush.

Joy Hye Lim Nam



I completed a postgraduate degree in Transcultural Studies at the University of Heidelberg. Most recently, I worked as Assistant Archivist/Librarian at the European Molecular Biology Laboratory in Heidelberg, Germany. Last year, I attended an International Council on Archives conference in Dundee, met a bunch of cool archivists, and wrote a reflection piece for their blog. My ideal job would entail working in an archive or library with East Asian material. Fun fact: I worked as a cheesemonger in New York for about a year and have tried over 100 different types of cheese.

Kate Aitkenhead



I completed my undergraduate degree in English Literature at Glasgow University in May 2020. Several years before that I did a month of voluntary work experience at the University of Strathclyde helping to transfer student records to a new digital database, as well as updating thousands of alumni records. My ideal career would be in the library sector, whether as a librarian or as an archivist. Fun fact: I spent my third undergraduate year abroad in New Zealand and I’m considering moving there one day.

Victoria Klein

I completed my undergraduate degree in History and Art History, followed by a Master’s in History and Medieval Studies at the University of Cologne. I interned in different archives with different kind of insights, while I mostly worked on cataloguing and digitisation projects: the State Archives of Belgium in Eupen, as well as at the Art Archive in Nuremburg and after a semester abroad at the University of St. Andrews at their Special Collections. When I told people that I wanted to become a historian when I grew up, they used to ask me if I wanted to be like Indiana Jones. I used to reply that I’d rather want to be like Tom Hanks in the Da Vinci Code or Diane Kruger in The National Treasurer. The former is also the reason why I’ve always dreamt of working for the Vatican Apostolic Archive. Further, it exposes my passion for history related adventure movies. 

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