Print Project Proposal: How do people rate history?

When I first began working at historic sites, nobody talked about Yelp.

The rise of the online review aggregator has been felt across virtually every sphere of commercial activity. Sites like TripAdvisor and Yelp provided a platform for people to write and publish reviews of everything from dentists (true story: I receive regular emails from my dentists’ office asking me to help “get the word out” by posting a good review online) to fancy restaurants, often semi-anonymously. Some sites offered the ability to provide a mere rating, zero to five stars, without requiring any additional explanation. Paul Ford described the Internet as a customer service medium, not a publishing medium, and nowhere is this more evident than the places on the Internet explicitly designed to solicit the input and feedback of customers.

Review sites have become powerful, I suspect, because of their perceived power and influence over the decisions of potential consumers. An online review is publicly accessible from anywhere with an available internet connection, and the websites often have mobile-compatible websites or dedicated apps to allow the perusing and posting of reviews from smartphones. Additionally, most review sites loudly proclaim that they do not allow paid reviewers to post – the implicit assumption being that the reviews found on TripAdvisor might be more honest and accurate because they are voluntary acts performed by “regular” people, instead of curated reviews written by paid professionals who might be bought or influenced by the place under review. For someone in an unfamiliar place, checking TripAdvisor might be the only way to have the feeling that you’re getting a real sense of the area.

Many historic sites rely on the income generated by admission fees and store revenue to fund their operations. A drop in overall visitation can have a serious impact on a site’s ability to hire staff, plan and present programming, and perform necessary preservation and maintenance. Both sites were also in relatively isolated areas, not near major cities. They couldn’t rely on the kinds of visitors who might see a sign on the road and decide to check out the site on impulse; they needed people to make deliberate plans to visit (and spend money) at the site in order to maintain continued financial health. Word-of-mouth was seen as paramount in motivating those visits. If people who visited had positive experiences, they would tell other people, and then those people would visit and have a positive experience, and so on. At both of my most recent places of employment, high-level staff obsessively checked sites like Yelp and TripAdvisor, along with the reviews written through Google Maps, to find out if we were successfully generating that positive word-of-mouth.

For my project, I propose to study the content of the reviews posted about two sites: Colonial Michilimackinac and Fort Mackinac, both part of Mackinaw State Historic Parks in northern Michigan. The two sites have some key differences that will make comparing their reviews interesting: Colonial Michilimackinac is a reconstructed 18th century fortified trading post on the mainland just off a major interstate highway, while Fort Mackinac is a partially-preserved 19th century fort on Mackinac Island, accessible only by ferry. I would like to see what things are common to both positive and negative reviews of the two sites, and where the feedback from visitors differs. The project promises to provide some very useful knowledge pertaining to visitor experience: knowing what sort of experiences stick in the minds of visitors long enough to make it into a TripAdvisor review can help a historic site present visitors with programming and interpretation that does the job of teaching them about the history of the site in memorable ways.

Print Project Proposal: Mapping Queer D.C.

In June 2017, the Kate Rabinowitz partnered with the Rainbow History Project (RHP) to launch the virtual map called, “Places and Spaces.” This interactive map charts locations significant to the LGBTQ community in Washington, D.C. since the 1960s. Hosted by RHP’s online archives, people from around the world can scroll through decades of D.C.’s LGBTQ history, click on individual pins implanted on Google maps, and search through the RHP archives of oral histories and digitized material for more information about a particular location.

This software is reminiscent of Philadelphia’s Philaplace application, although instead of embedding photographs and ephemera into the map, Places and Spaces offers metadata that describes the nature of the establishment (i.e. bar, health center, book store) with the dates of operation and the gender/ethnicity of the core clientele. Anyone is welcome to submit suggestions for additional points on the map, allowing amateur historians and community members to contribute.

Touching on four of Roy Rosenzweig and Dan Cohen’s seven qualities of digital media, this map of queer spaces contributes to the accessibility, diversity, interactivity, and manipulation of digital data to study memory of a marginalized community. Through Places and Spaces, users are able to manipulate the map to view the fluctuation of queer gathering places from decade to decade, highlighting disparities in the community’s public spaces as it responded to changes in the D.C. environment.

As D.C. gentrifies, housing for low- and middle-income residents has become scarce, causing overwhelming rates of displacement (DC Curbed reports a 10% decrease in families living in the district with incomes under $35,000/year). LGBTQ establishments are not impervious to new development and augmented rent, and the map reveals a sharp decline in public queer spaces beginning in the late 1990s and early 2000s. There are many theories towards what has contributed to the decline of “gayborhoods”–the AIDS crisis, the digital culture of dating apps, and increasing assimilation must also be held accountable. However, I plan to focus on the effects of gentrification on physical LGBTQ spaces by comparing the statistics and maps tracing change in D.C., as collected by Governing Magazine, DataLensDC, and an app created by the Urban Institute called “Washington, D.C.: Our Changing City.”

The purpose of this study is to 1) further document a history that has been ignored or intentionally erased, and 2) identify core causes of disappearing spaces and its impact on the present community. Although a far cry from the longue duree research toted by Jo Guldi and David Armitage in The History Manifesto, the availability of these interactive maps allows for the comparison between the queer spaces and gentrification over the past two decades.

Memory and Materiality: An Examination of Dear Photograph

On January 13, 2014, the Tumblr based blog, Dear Photograph reached 150,000 followers. Although the site has not been updated since last fall, its first three years of use provide a wealth of material I will use to examine how people interact with the past, form memories, and view materiality on the web. The blog of focus features digital photos taken by people of physical photos lined up with their original setting, with a caption beginning with “Dear photograph.” Meta right?

Here’s an example:


Dear Photograph,
Trafalgar Square 50 years ago and my Granny never looked happier! If my house was burning down, this would be the one possession I would be desperate to save. I miss so many things about my Granny but most of all I miss her beautiful smile.

This example combines a personal photograph and message and places it in a setting of historical significance.

Some of the other photos are inherently more personal, both in place and in subject:


Dear Photograph,
This is when I still had hair and my brother pooped himself.
We were happy, but we didn’t know it.

If you do a quick Google search for “dear photograph” you will find, beyond the actual site (and its manifestations on other social media platforms) a number of articles profiling the site and its owner/curator, Taylor Jones. None of these articles are very long or in depth. The articles focus on “New-age nostalgia” or “digital nostalgia” but few delve into the ideas of memory.

One of the few scholarly pieces that deals with memory, Dear Photograph, and that sets the frame for my study is “Remembering with Rephotography: A Social Practice for the Inventions of Memories” by Jason Kalin. This article briefly mentioned Dear Photograph as part of a larger set of websites involved in “rephotography,” or retaking the same photograph in the same place at a different time to show change. Kalin argues that the way we share digital photos on the web  and use rephotography changes the way we remember things. Its application in a digital social environment allows users to “follow in the footsteps of previous walkers while simultaneously making that walk their own, thus producing a collective text, a collective, public memory of place that responds to past, present, and future.” In essence, these images are not only a way of remembering the past but are a means to create new memories, in a dialogue more public than ever before. This study will build off Kalin’s ideas as well as the general literature about memory to examine how Dear Photograph in particular reveals the changing nature of memory in the digital environment.

A piece in the New Yorker demonstrates another side to Dear Photograph, saying that “the project is a powerful reminder that digital photos can’t ever quite duplicate how it feels to hold a timeworn, sun-bleached, wrinkled old family photo in your hand.” This sentence gets to the heart of ideas espoused by Matt Kirschenbaum in Mechanisms when he discusses how the digital is often associated as something inherently not physical. Dear Photograph represents a juxtaposition of the nostalgia for the materiality of analog photographs while putting these objects within the structure of the new media that replaced them. Looking at these ideas and those of memory outlined above, I question, do memory and materiality relate to one another? Is Dear Photograph an attempt to adapt the memories associated with tactile feel to the digital environment? Through the examination of the content of images and text in the posts of Dear Photograph, I hope to answer these questions and reveal how this platform relates to the way we form memories in the digital age.

Print Proposal – Oregon Trail

Poor Carol Ann!


My proposal for a print project would be an analysis on Oregon Trail, one of the most iconic educational games of all time. Mike recently put up some great gaming monitor reviews on his blog, Likely exposed to you in elementary school, the game has been used in classrooms around the nation as an enjoyable but informative break for school children & teachers.  Oregon Trail was not only fun to play but also likely became the foundation and spark of exploration into the history of the old west for many children.    The game is one that both hardcore & causal gamers alike have played and enjoyed in their earlier years. Oregon Trail has taught people many things besides quick reflexes and what Dysentery is.


Originally the game was created with the goal to teach school children the harshness of pioneer life on the literal trail (it connects the Missouri River to valleys in Oregon; over 2,000 miles).  For many people the Oregon Trail was their introduction to this piece of history and became a large influence.  Reaching its peak in the 80’s & 90’s Oregon Trail has had recent flirtations with invading the social gaming realm.

One of the major areas I would want to cover in project was the research and groundwork used to create the original games.  Where did the creators draw of the line from being a historically accurate simulation to a game of enjoyment? I would compare other historical documents that cover the same time period & subjects.  How similar are they?  Do they tend to cover different subjects?  Is there something that Oregon Trail covers that a historical piece of text simply can’t.

Next naturally I would want to look into how the game was used in academic environments.  I would like to research the importance of ‘playing’ in that part of history and how it directly correlates to learning about that subject.  Was it just a cute ‘activity’ to get school children comfortable with computers or was in worked in professor’s history curriculum for the old west?

Some other questions I would like to explore with this project

  • How accurate are the depictions of pioneer in the game?
  • To what degree was the game being used as an historical/educational tool?
  • What research was done to create the game?
  • Could the original game still serve the same purpose today?
  • Why has the popularity in classrooms died off?
  • Is there potential for ‘updating’ the game for further historical use?

Print Proposal

Civic history has always been something I’ve been interested in. Growing up in Baltimore, I always loved going to the historical homes and little museums scattered across the city. There was one historic site that I always loved attending—that of Babe Ruth’s home. Ruth—a Baltimore native—lived and played in the city until being sold to the Boston Red Sox in 1914. His home has been transformed into a quaint little museum filled with Ruth memorabilia and various other baseball accoutrements. The exhibits went beyond the fact that Ruth was a great baseball players; letters from friends and family reaching all the way back to his early years in Baltimore were on display. Whenever I went to this museum as a kid, it made me realize how intertwined the history of Baltimore is with baseball’s most famous star.

With this in mind, I’m curiousabout the influence that sports franchises have on the history of a city—in this case the Orioles’ influence on Baltimore. There’s a wide array great historical scholarship on baseball—by no means is it being ignored. However, in the wake of the massive narratives we’re all familiar with, smaller stories and anecdotes are left behind. A friend recently forwarded me a thread from a baseball forum discussing an Orioles pitcher from the 50’s named Steve Dalkowski. Apparently a career minor leaguer who never pitched in the major leagues, Dalkowski had the ability to throw a baseball more than a hundred miles per hour—an astounding feat. However, Dalkowski had no ability to control the location of his pitches, and this ultimately held him back. Never having heard this story before, I was fascinated. Not only that, but the thread was filled with ex-teammates of Dalkowski relating anecdotes from their times together. Through this forum, a tiny piece of baseball history that had otherwise been forgotten by the mainstream was completely rebuilt. This is what I want to investigate: through baseball message boards and forums, how is the history of the Baltimore Orioles reconstructed through the sharing of these stories? How do these stories affect the history not only the Orioles, but also the city of Baltimore itself? Ultimately, do these stories and anecdotes ultimately provide greater historical enrichment or are they merely fun little side stories?