This post is part of the Intergenerational Conversations series.

Review of David Gracy II, “Our Future Is Now,” American Archivist 48, no. 1 (Winter 1985): 12–21, https://doi.org/10.17723/aarc.48.1.4p700782677307t3.

By Ashley Williams Clawson, Oregon State University [PDF Full Text] | [PDF Article + Full Text]

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” That was my first thought when I finished David B. Gracy II’s presidential address, “Our Future Is Now,” delivered to the Society of American Archivists (SAA) membership in Washington, DC, in 1984. At that time, the archival community of the United States was struggling. The first Documenting America, which summarized the results of the State Needs Assessment Grants, painted a bleak picture. State archives were “unable to provide adequate care for their records” and, like other repositories, were “trapped in a cycle of poverty.”[1] The report served as a call to action for archives and archivists, yet Gracy saw the contradictions and challenges involved with this work. In his address, Gracy highlights eleven paradoxes within archives and offers a few solutions. Many of these paradoxes are intertwined, and even in 2024, many are still relevant and worth examining.

Three paradoxes that Gracy identifies—appraisal, use, and technology—are closely related in terms of archival work, i.e., what we do. In describing the paradox of appraisal, Gracy notes that our job as archivists is to preserve permanently valuable records of our time and former times, yet we cannot possibly save everything. Relatedly, the paradox of use is that the use of materials “justifies their preservation; but use is also a principal destroyer of the materials” (p. 14). But if materials are not used, why keep them? As I have talked about with coworkers, if material is going to just sit on a shelf and wait to die, meaning never be used and just degrading, is it worth keeping and taking up shelf space? This leads to Gracy’s paradox of technology: “We must preserve the permanently valuable information of our age in whatever medium it comes to us. . . Yet the technology of media is changing so fast that the media, and their systems of organizing knowledge, are impermanent” (p. 14).

These three paradoxes raise the question of the total cost of stewardship. As repositories, we are charged with holding records in perpetuity—something that is not an inexpensive or insignificant responsibility. The total cost of stewardship can be thought of like an iceberg, as depicted in Weber et al.’s 2021 OCLC white paper, “Total Cost of Stewardship: Responsible Collection Building in Archives and Special Collections.” Above the water you see the cost of acquisition, but underneath the surface are all the other costs related to collection management: cataloging, processing and description, preservation and conservation, digitization and reformatting, and storage and maintenance, in addition to reference and providing access.[2] As a digital archivist, I deal with these “submerged” issues every day as I work with everything from obscure media formats to files that are inaccessible due to old operating systems or proprietary programs. Gracy’s paradoxes of appraisal, use, and technology speak to things I think about daily: what do we keep, why do we keep it, and how do we keep it? There is so much more to archives than acquiring new collections. A question Gracy poses gets to the heart of adapting a total cost of stewardship model: “Do we just continue as we are on the familiar road, or will we strive to change our course?” (p. 14). In the forty years since Gracy’s address, I think we have begun to address this question, but there is still room for improvement at all levels of archives, from top management to archivists who are boots on the ground.

While acknowledging the previous paradoxes of our work is important, I find the paradoxes dealing more broadly with archives in the larger world to be equally, if not more, important to understand for our longevity and success. Gracy describes the disconnect between the public perception of archives and archivists.[3] In his time, stereotypes abounded of the lowly archivist who works in a dark, dusty archives, and even though archives and archivists have been in the forefront of news over the last couple of years, these stereotypes continue.[4] I am sure many people still picture archivists in cardigans and glasses hunched over dusty boxes and books, or as they are often depicted in films—power-wielding, rude, engaging in unethical and unprofessional behaviors, yet knowledgeable and able to find answers quickly.[5] If there is a low or misunderstood public perception of archives and archivists, the public is less likely to advocate and support greater resources, continuing the “cycle of poverty” Gracy is responding to. While the public’s perception of archives and archivists has improved—as indicated by, for example, Samantha Cross’s Pop Archives, work by SAA’s Committee on Public Awareness including #AskAnArchivistDay, and Caitlin Patterson’s article “Perceptions and Understandings of Archives in the Digital Age”—there is still certainly more we as a profession can do. [6]

Not only do we need to work on educating the public about our role, but we also need to work together to advocate for ourselves within our own institutions and profession. We cannot let ourselves get played off each other, fighting for scraps. I have been told on more than one occasion that I should be thankful to have a job in a field I love, and to essentially ignore the negatives. Yet, doing what one loves as a career “creates a vicious race to the bottom in terms of compensation and sustainable jobs.”[7] As journalist Anne Helen Petersen writes, “The desirability of ‘lovable’ jobs is part of what makes them so unsustainable: So many people are competing for so few positions that compensation standards can be continuously lowered with little effect. There is always someone just as passionate to take your place.”[8] I have seen this happen in the archival profession—new hires being offered significantly less than their predecessors and colleagues receiving promotions with added responsibilities and little to no increase in compensation. Through all of this, we need to recognize that being an archivist is our job, not our identity. As such, we need to advocate for ourselves just as much, if not more, than for our collections. It is only through working together as a profession that we can make improvements for everyone.

Gracy also points to an interesting paradox of permanent value. He presents two arguments—humanist and patriotic—as reasons to preserve “permanently valuable” papers and records. The humanist argument is that individuals, governments, and organizations “must know where they have been before they can know where they are going” (p. 16). The patriotic argument is that “the permanently valuable papers and records are the documentary heritage of us all and thus are the epoxy in the common bond we have as a society” (p. 16). At the center of both arguments are people, the human experience. As several archivists have contended, archives are spaces that hold power and are not neutral.[9] Particularly after the political and social unrest of the last four years, I think we need to look more critically at the human experience stories archives hold. How many voices are not represented in the archives? How many voices have been methodically erased or not saved? How can we look at the records that do remain and find these marginalized groups?[10] How can we be better going forward? There certainly has been work surrounding these questions since Gracy’s address.[11] But we must continue to center people and the human experience of everyone. As Bergis Jules argues in his keynote address to the National Digital Stewardship Alliance annual meeting in 2016, we need to make a commitment to “an ethic of care around protecting people in those collections” and commit to collecting more inclusive and representative records.[12] As a profession, we need to keep these questions, the care of people, and the human experience in mind as we describe, re-describe, and acquire collections.

Another part of the paradox of permanent value is that nothing is permanent. Society is constantly shifting, developing, and evolving. Public interests change. Gracy raises the argument that archives and the language archivists use are out of balance with society’s desires and vocabulary. Archivists “work to save, in an age that prizes disposability and impermanence” (p. 16), something that has only continued in the forty years since Gracy gave the address. Social media posts, TikTok videos, and bite-sized content dominate—here one second, forgotten the next. As archivists, how do we acquire and keep this material, particularly since we cannot keep everything? Further, how can we do so in an ethical and sustainable way?[13] As Gracy indicates, our terminology does not help either; using the term “noncurrent” defines the material we work with in a negative frame. He argues “old” seems almost better, since it is at least a positive concept. It is worthwhile to think about the terminology we use, particularly in talking with others outside archives. Having specialized language to describe what we do within our profession is necessary, but it is also necessary to be able to explain what we do in nonspecialized terms. If we want to change the public perception of archives, it is necessary to meet the public where they are and help educate them.

All the previous paradoxes culminate to Gracy’s last paradox: “Archival work no longer is archival work” (p. 17), at least not in the sense it had been. “Gathering, appraising, arranging, describing, preserving, and making available no longer are the basic duties of the archivist,” Gracy states, arguing that promotion, marketing, and outreach had also become essential (p. 17). This is still true in 2024, when promotion, marketing, and outreach have been thoroughly incorporated into our work.[14] While processing collections, for example, I am always thinking about how we can promote them as well. Countless job postings list not only the basic duties Gracy mentions, but outreach and promotion as requirements or desired qualifications. As Gracy phrases it, “we must continually sell our service” (p. 17). He is not wrong. Archives “sell” their services through various outreach efforts, such as scanning events, public programs, tours, and donor events, just to name a few. There is a danger to not “selling” our services, from cuts in funding to positions not being filled to potentially jeopardizing our existence. In my own experience, I have seen repositories choose not to fill a vacant position and spread responsibilities out among other staff because there are not the numbers (financially or “bodies through the door”) to justify another hire.

Further, Gracy saw in 1984 a change in the profession: “we are playing down our recognized and formerly strong role of historian/scholar in favor of our role as administrator” (p. 17). He summarizes Wilbur Kurtz, former Coca-Cola Company archivist, who wrote that archivists increasingly filled “three vital functions in their organizations: offense, defense, and exploitation” (p. 17)—offense when supporting the organization in promoting itself, defense when supporting the organization in protecting its rights and those of its dependents, and exploitation when providing the organization’s hierarchy with information to use in making decisions. Essentially, Gracy perceived a dumbing down of the profession to “the lesser role of valet fetching old information” (p. 17). This was further reflected, he believed, in the Office of Personnel Management’s (OPM) decision to lower entry-level requirements for federal archival workers because OPM saw archival work as technical, not professional.

I do not think Gracy is wrong in arguing that archivists are more administrators than historians, but I disagree that it is a dumbing down of the profession, and instead believe it reflects a change in needs.[15] Archivists largely do not do original research; gone are the days of content experts who spent years delving into specific records. Emphasis is now on technical services (e.g., acquisition, arrangement, and description), not research.[16]  From my experience in the archives field, some archivists become so bogged down in sorting a collection into distinct, minute boxes (and by this I mean series, subseries, and the occasional sub-subseries, not literal boxes) that they lose sight of the collection as a whole or how researchers use and access collections. Archivists create finding aids for other archivists, not researchers.[17] Multiple usability studies have indicated researchers struggle with finding aids, indicating there is much room for improvement.[18] Yet, as Gregory Wiedeman indicates, archivists seem to refuse to take a critical look at finding aid content and usability and make changes for the end user.[19] I have also seen archivists get frustrated when researchers do not understand or know how to use finding aids. Perhaps the onus needs to be on us to meet our end user where they are and to use terminology and arrangement schemes that are direct, clear, and useful for researchers, especially since researchers are not just historians who may have years of experience with archives, but also filmmakers, genealogists, students, reporters, etc., who may be encountering an archives for the first time.

Because of the wide variety of people who use archival collections, I think it is important that archivists keep historical imagination and the variety of researchers in the forefront while arranging and describing collections. What do I mean by this? Historical imagination is a researcher’s ability to extract meaning from primary sources and use it to create a narrative—to use their imagination to reconstruct and understand the past.[20] This may mean thinking beyond the face value of materials.[21] How will researchers use a collection? How might someone use it? What are some of the access points and challenges? Keeping these questions in mind when processing will result in better accessibility to collections.

After all these intertwined paradoxes Gracy mentions, where are we left? He argues that archivists must recognize and come to grips with two realities. First, “our independent, lone-arranger, proud-of-my-unique-system tradition is not a strength, but an Achilles’ heel” (p. 18). Second, “the image of the archival services to society, held in the minds of all our publics, specific and general, is our primary key to unlocking the resources we must have to provide these services” (p. 18). Gracy argues we have the tools and foundation to make change; what needs to be done is not a mystery. Even so, I think here we still have work to do in both areas he describes.

To combat “the prevalent ‘everything is unique here so there’s no feasible way I can operate like other repositories’ attitude,” Gracy echoes other colleagues in calling for standards, including standards of vocabulary and of methodology (p. 18). It took a long time after Gracy’s address for such standards to be adopted: for example, ISAD(G) in 1994 and DACS a decade later in 2004.[22] The SAA“Dictionary of Archives Terminology” is also a welcome addition to standardizing our terminology.[23]

Gracy also acknowledged recent calls for a program of certification of archivists, which was seen as another way of standardizing the profession. Although not under SAA, the Academy of Certified Archivists was established in 1989 at SAA’s annual meeting. To become a certified archivist, one must meet educational and experience requirements before passing a comprehensive exam. The exam takes its questions from the “role delineation statement for professional archivists” and the eight domains and knowledge statements covered within the statement.[24] According to a 2022 article by Alex H. Poole and Ashley Todd-Diaz, the number of certified archivists has grown steadily, but still only represents 21.5 percent of the total membership of SAA.[25] However, the article raises questions surrounding certification, particularly its perception among archival educators. Since its creation in 1989, there has not been a widespread adoption by employers to require certification or educators to promote it. Instead, as Poole and Todd-Diaz indicate, graduate education has become the entry point for most archivists with certification as secondary.[26] I do not think the certification process has been as successful or widely adopted as creators originally hoped, but it does not mean there has not been a standardization of the profession.

In the same vein, Gracy talks about the desire for specialized education and continuing education. He spoke of “the lack of opportunities for advanced work and . . . the effect on the profession of having academic credentials for American archivists given only in schools and departments oriented toward other professions” (p. 19). It is around this time that we see the rise of MLIS/MLS programs, a requirement for many archival jobs over the last decade.[27] According to A*CENSUS II, 60 percent of respondents in 2021 held an MLS or MLIS degree, compared to 43.6 percent holding  an MA, MS, or MFA.[28] I want to acknowledge this question asked respondents to select all that applied, so there is likely some overlap, but the difference is significant.

While I am not arguing against the professionalization and standardization of archives and archivists, I do think we, as a profession, have taken some things a bit too far. From my personal observations and discussion with other archivists, many potential employers will not consider you unless you have a library degree, no matter how much experience you have. Isn’t this just a form of gatekeeping that alienates? I am not saying a library degree is not valuable, but I believe other degrees can be valued to the same level. Plus, a library degree is not financially feasible for people of limited means.[29] Although still a significant financial cost, one viable alternative is a master’s degree in public history, a degree I hold.[30] I purposefully chose to get a degree in public history instead of library science because it provided a broader scope. I had coursework that covered archives as well as museums, historic sites, cultural resource management, cultural institutions more generally, and traditional history. Some people do not want to box themselves into such a narrow field with a library degree. Gatekeeping via a library degree does not make sense when there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who are qualified to do the work, but do not and never will have a library degree. This also gets back to Gracy’s argument that “We need opportunities for broader education at an advanced level” (p. 19). By including more educational backgrounds, the profession becomes richer for the different perspectives and outlooks, plus we “maintain a broad view of the archival profession” (p. 20).

The second reality archives and archivists had to confront in 1984, according to Gracy, was that of their image. SAA’s Task Force on Archives and Society, convened in Summer 1983, was charged with analyzing and taking steps to improve the image of archives and archivists with both our institutions and society in general. It was to come up with ways to raise public awareness, appreciation, understanding, and support of archival work—in other words, outreach. Gracy defines outreach as “making archives interesting and inviting, and showing people that the records of enduring value touch and enrich their lives in a meaningful way. We must show every group that it has an interest, indeed a stake, in archives” (p. 20). This is a noble endeavor, and one we all must participate in to ensure archives’ longevity.

As archivists, we are often tasked with coming up with ways to promote our collections and conduct outreach to more than just scholars. In my own experience, this is particularly true when a large or important collection opens or is a grant-funded project. But how do you make outreach meaningful and not just a matter of looking at a bunch of cool things? While processing the Batten, Barton, Durstine & Osborn, Inc. (BBDO) records (a world-renowned advertising agency), a series of conversations with a colleague led to thinking about how to promote this collection in a different way. What could we do to attract a different audience? The idea that kept coming up and sparking my interest was recipes that appeared in advertisements, newsletters, and pamphlets. It turns out that BBDO established a test kitchen and worked with clients on recipe development. This proved to be the perfect opportunity to make archives interesting and inviting in a nontraditional way. Over a collaborative eight-part video series, “In the Kitchen with BBDO,” I introduced the test kitchen, explained what BBDO staff did, and made several recipes, some which people remembered from their childhood, myself included.[31] These videos brought in a different audience and as a result led to other opportunities to promote the collection to the public beyond scholarly researchers.

There has certainly been an expansion of outreach possibilities since Gracy’s speech. The advent of the internet opened countless new possibilities Gracy may have never imagined. Outreach activities such as exhibits, events, talks, publications, instruction sessions, and tours are tried and true and are still an important component. But through the internet, a whole new world of opportunities has arisen. Repositories can now share details about exhibits, events, talks, and publications through their various websites, blogs, and social media channels, providing a larger audience than previous generations. We can use these outlets to our advantage to not only promote our collections but also give a “behind-the-scenes” look at what we do to make archives relevant and relatable to the public.[32]

Gracy concludes his address by reiterating that archivists are at a fork in the road: they can rise to meet the myriad challenges and paradoxes they face or forgo change and “take the very real risk of vanishing” from history (p. 21). As in 1984, archivists in 2024 are at a similar fork. Gracy believed we had the capacity to achieve our goal and the tools to accomplish the work, and he even saw the profession taking its first steps in that direction. But there were a few questions remaining: “will we carry through? Do we have the will to use the machinery of our profession in this way and for as long as it takes, or will we continue fragmenting with each individual group going its own way, oblivious to the work of others, blind to the needs of the profession beyond the vision of the specific focus of the group?” (p. 21). In 2024, the paradoxes Gracy mentions and the larger questions he posed to the Society are still fitting. As a profession, we have come a long way, but there is still more work for us to do for the betterment of ourselves, the public’s perception of archives, our researchers, our institutions, and the voices and stories we steward. To end with the same words as Gracy, “Our future is now.”

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[1] Edwin C. Bridges, “Consultant Report,” in Lisa B. Weber, ed., Documenting America: Assessing the Condition of Historical Records in the States (Atlanta: National Association of State Archives and Records Administrators, 1983) quoted in Gracy, p. 13. Documenting America is a summary report of forty-eight assessment report projects from states, territories, and the District of Columbia. The individual reports examined historical records’ conditions and needs, prepared recommendations to meet the needs, and published findings and recommendations. In both cases, the reports were not detailed plans for action, only agendas for change. Stakeholders and repositories still needed to set priorities for action, implement the recommendations in the reports, adapt the findings to changing conditions, and monitor progress. In other words, action still needed to happen following the reports.

[2] Chela Scott Weber, Martha O’Hara Conway, Nicholas Martin, Gioia Stevens, and Brigette Kamsler, “Total Cost of Stewardship: Responsible Collection Building in Archives and Special Collections,” OCLC Research, March 2021, https://doi.org/10.25333/zbh0-a044.

[3] During his SAA presidency, Gracy launched the Archives and Society campaign. As Randall Jimerson writes, “Under his leadership, archivists became more conscious of their public image, began to redefine their professional identity, and focused attention on a core mission based on social responsibility and concern for the future rather than the past.” Randall C. Jimerson, “Archives and Society: David B. Gracy II and the Value of Archives,” Information & Culture 49, no. 1 (2014): 34–53, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43737380.

[4] Archives and archivists have been prevalent in recent news stories relating to the transfer of presidential records to the National Archives and Records Administration, threats to Ukraine’s archives from Russian invasion, archives as targets of vandalism, archivists who work on specific and unique collections such as those for musicians, and the first woman Archivist of the United States. Alan Feuer, “Trump Was Warned to Return Records to Archives, Unsealed Documents Say,” New York Times, 22 April 2024, https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/22/us/politics/trump-warning-classified-documents-case.html. “Russian Destruction Causes Loss of Ukrainian Archives,” Kyiv Post, 1 December 2023, https://www.kyivpost.com/post/24920. Michael Auslin, “America’s archivist draws a line in the sand against vandals,” The Hill, 25 March 2024, https://thehill.com/opinion/4553450-americas-archivist-draws-a-line-in-the-sand-against-vandals/. Alex Pappademas, “Grateful Dead Archivist David Lemieux Knows Where the Beauty is Buried,” GQ, 16 February 2024, https://www.gq.com/story/grateful-dead-archivist-david-lemieux. Tilda Wilson, “For the Record: We Visit Colleen Shogan, the First Woman Appointed U.S. Archivist,” NPR, 4 July 2023, https://www.npr.org/2023/07/04/1184822908/colleen-shogan-archivist-archives.

[5] For a further discussion regarding portrayal of archivists in film, see Amanda Oliver and Anne Daniel, “The Identity Complex: The Portrayal of Archivists in Film,” Archival Issues 37, no. 1 (2015): 48–70, https://doi.org/10.31274/archivalissues.10928.

[6] Samantha Cross, “Pop Archives: Archives and Archivists in Pop Culture,” accessed 25 April 2024, https://www.pop-archives.com/. Society of American Archivists, “Committee on Public Awareness,” accessed 25 April 2024, https://www2.archivists.org/groups/committee-on-public-awareness. Caitlin Patterson, “Perceptions and Understandings of Archives in the Digital Age,” American Archivist 79, no. 2 (2016): 339–70, https://doi.org/10.17723/0360-9081-79.2.339. One of Patterson’s conclusions is that respondents had “a fairly realistic, though very basic understanding of the mission and tasks of archives and archivists,” but still think in terms of archives’ traditional definitions and imagery.

[7] Trever Owens, After Disruption: A Future for Cultural Memory (University of Michigan Press, 2024), 90.

[8] Anne Helen Petersen, Can’t Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2020), 70, as quoted in Owens, 90.

[9] See Mario H. Ramierez, “Being Assumed Not to Be: A Critique of Whiteness as an Archival Imperative,” American Archivist 78, no. 2 (2015): 339–56, https://doi.org/10.17723/0360-9081.78.2.339, and Bergis Jules, “Confronting Our Failure of Care Around the Legacies of Marginalized People in the Archives,” On Archivy (Nov. 2016), https://medium.com/on-archivy/confronting-our-failure-of-care-around-the-legacies-of-marginalized-people-in-the-archives-dc4180397280 [Accessed April 30, 2024].

[10] Some repositories have even begun to include research guides on archival silences and be upfront about missing records. For an example, see “Introduction to Archival Research,” University Libraries, University of Colorado Boulder, April 16, 2024, https://libguides.colorado.edu/introarchives.

[11] Michelle Caswell has several publications related to community archives, archival silences, and marginalized groups. The recently ALA-SAA published book Decolonial Archival Futures written by Krista McCracken and Skylee-Storm Hogan-Stacey also addresses topics around archival silences and diversifying collections.

[12] Jules, “Confronting Our Failure of Care Around the Legacies of Marginalized People in the Archives.”

[13] For further discussion, see Ashlyn Velte, “Ethical Challenges and Current Practices in Activist Social Media Archives,” American Archivist 81, no. 1 (2018): 112–34, https://doi.org/10.17723/0360-9081-81.1.112 and Stuart Jeffrey, “A New Digital Dark Age? Collaborative Web Tools, Social Media and Long-Term Preservation,” World Archaeology 44 (2012): 553–57, http://doi.org/10.1080/00438243.2012.737579.

[14] Outreach through social media is a prevalent method. See Sean Heyliger, Juli McLoone, and Nikki Lynn Thomas, “Making Connections: A Survey of Special Collections’ Social Media Outreach,” American Archivist 76, no. 2 (2013): 374–414, https://doi.org/10.17723/aarc.76.2.t820u33100443q55. Teaching with primary sources is another method often utilized by special collections. See Patricia Garcia, “Accessing Archives: Teaching with Primary Sources in K-12 Classrooms,” American Archivist 80, no. 1 (2017): 189–212, https://doi.org/10.17723/0360-9081.80.1.189.

[15] Particularly in light of Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner’s article “More Product, Less Process” and the need to address processing backlogs, archivists are not afforded the time to be historians, as that takes time and research, which takes away from making records available to others. Mark A. Greene and Dennis Meissner, “More Product, Less Process: Revamping Traditional Processing,” American Archivist 68, no. 2 (2005): 208-63.

[16] At one repository I have worked at, research by archivists was discouraged, as research was to be left to scholars. It was essentially framed to me that my job was to make materials available to researchers at as quick of a pace as I could manage.

[17] For further discussion of the history of finding aids, including finding aids as documents for other archivists see Gregory Wiedeman, “The Historical Hazards of Finding Aids,” American Archivist 82, no. 2 (Fall/Winter 2019): 381–420, https://doi.org/10.17723/aarc-82-02-20.

[18] Elizbeth Yakel has written several articles regarding finding aid usability, including “Listening to Users,” Archival Issues 26, no. 2 (2002): 111–27, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41102044, and “Encoded Archival Description: Are Finding Aids Boundary Spanners or Barriers for Users?” Journal of Archival Organization 2, nos. 1–2 (2004): 63–77, https://doi.org/10.1300/J201v02n01_06. See also Anne J. Gilliland-Swetland, “Popularizing the Finding Aid: Exploiting EAD to Enhance Online Discovery and Retrieval in Archival Information Systems by Diverse User Groups,” Journal of Internet Cataloging 4, nos. 3–4 (2001): 1999–225, https://doi.org/10.1300/J141v04n03_12, and Richard J. Cox, “Revisiting the Archival Finding Aid,” Journal of Archival Organization 5, no. 4 (2008): 5–32, https://doi.org/10.1080/15332740802153245. For a more recent study, see Betts Coup, “The Value of a Note: A Finding Aid Usability Study,” Journal of Contemporary Archival Studies 8, article 13 (2021), https://elischolar.library.yale.edu/jcas/vol8/iss1/13.

[19] Wiedeman, “The Historical Hazards of Finding Aids.”

[20] The term “historical imagination” was introduced by R. G. Collingwood in The Idea of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1946).

[21] For example, a nineteenth-century business payroll book shows who worked for the company, positions held, and wages. A historian can trace a business’s growth and profit based on the number of employees and wages. But for a genealogist, the payroll book may document their ancestor’s name or that their family continued to receive support after the employee was killed. A local heritage group may use the book to identify immigrants and their sponsors that helped get them to the area. The payroll book can also be studied as an object, with the different paper, bindings, inks and dyes, and printing processes used in its construction all potential topics of research.

[22] “ISAD(G): General International Standard Archival Description” (2^nd edition), International Council on Archives Committee on Description Standards, 2000, https://www.ica.org/resource/isadg-general-international-standard-archival-description-second-edition/; “Describing Archives: A Content Standards (DACS),” Society of American Archivists, 2022, https://saa-ts-dacs.github.io/.

[23] “Dictionary of Archives Terminology,” Society of American Archivists, accessed May 1, 2024, https://dictionary.archivists.org/.

[24] The domains are: selection, appraisal, and acquisition; arrangement and description; reference services and access; preservation and protection; outreach, advocacy, and marketing; managing archival programs; professional, ethical, and legal responsibilities; and cultural competency. “Role Delineation Statement for Professional Archivists,” The Academy of Certified Archivists, accessed May 1, 2024, https://www.certifiedarchivists.org/role-delineation.

[25] Alex H. Poole and Ashley Todd-Diaz, “Who Is This Gadot? The Academy of Certified Archivists and Graduate Archival Education,” American Archivist 85, no. 2 (2022): 678–99, https://doi.org/10.17723/2327-9702-85.2.678.  

[26] Poole and Todd-Diaz, 686.

[27] A*CENSUS in 2004 concluded a library or information science degree was increasingly preferred over an MA in history. The Rare Books and Manuscripts Section of the Association of College and Research Libraries, a Division of the American Library Association, website states an “MLS is frequently required, though some positions allow an MA or a PhD” as a required qualification for professional archivists. It further states that some job postings have the phrase “MLS or equivalent” which “may signify a hiring committee will also consider applicants who hold” other advance degrees. “Qualifications,” Rare Books and Manuscripts Section,” accessed May 1, 2024, https://rbms.info/careers-faq/qualifications/.

[28] Makala Skinner and Ioana Hulbert, A*CENSUS II All Archivists Survey Report, Ithaka S+R, last modified August 22, 2022, https://doi.org/10.18665/sr.317224.

[29] Tuition for a full degree can range from $20,000 to over $60,000. That cost is just for tuition and does not include fees, books, housing, food, transportation, or any other expenses. This tuition range includes online only degrees. Evan Thompson, “Best Online Master’s in Library Science Degrees of 2024,” Best Colleges, April 18, 2024, https://www.bestcolleges.com/education/masters/library-science/. I also looked at a few individual schools to find tuition rates, including the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill; out-of-state tuition for two years at that school would cost approximately $66,700. “Graduate & Professional Program Tuition,” University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill, November 17, 2023, https://cashier.unc.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/259/2023/06/graduate-and-professional-tuition-and-fees-fall-2023-spring-2024.pdf.

[30] I took a sample of colleges and universities that offer master’s in public history or master’s in history with a certificate or concentration in public history listed on the National Council on Public History website. Schools include (but are not limited to): Appalachian State University, Northern Arizona University, New Mexico State University, Liberty University, St. Cloud University, College of Charleston, James Madison University, SUNY Albany, Colorado State University, and North Carolina State University. Tuition for a full degree ranged from $10,000 to over $60,000; however, median costs were in the low $40,000s, about $10,000 to $20,000 less than many library degrees. Tuition information was ascertained from each school’s website, accessed May 2, 2024.

[31] Lucas R. Clawson, Hagley Historian, “In The Kitchen With BBDO,” YouTube Playlist, 4 October 2022, https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIO6HuhA-ZBw1evgdFPJlGrdOG64AapRV.

[32] Much has been written about outreach in archives, but two articles I found particularly interesting are Katy Lalonde, Chris Sanagan, and Sean Smith, “The War of 1812 in 140 Characters or Less: ‘SuperCool’ or Super Un-tweet Worthy?” American Archivist 77, no. 2 (2014): 558-68, https://doi.org/10.17723/aarc.77.2.7016748180782733 and Kara Flynn, “Eating in the Archives? A Review of Archival Outreach and Engagement Through Food History,” Provenance, Journal of the Society of Georgia Archivists 35, no. 2 (2018): 32-44, https://digitalcommons.kennesaw.edu/provenance/vol35/iss2/3.