Week One: Making the Plunge

On May 13^th, with the Summer Semester already underway, I placed a called to Dr. Rosalind Beiler, our History Department Internship Coordinator at the University of Central Florida. I was in a frenzied search for a last-minute internship. I needed something – anything – to add to my summer course schedule. For certain financial aid reasons, I needed to be considered a “full-time” student, with 6-credit hours of coursework at the university. In my hasty search, Dr. Beiler proved truly accommodating. We brainstormed possible internship ideas, of which there was no shortage. With the exception of an internship working with the RICHES Mosaic Interface, all of the available internships were based at the Public History Center in Sanford, Florida. Dr. Beiler had a plethora of needs for the museum. The possibilities were many: I could develop gallery guides, improve scripts for audio guides, work on the “Georgetown” exhibit, craft an Institutional Interpretive Plan, or draft a National Endowment for the Humanities Planning Grant for the museum.

Which one to choose? They all sounded interesting and each had merit. Dr. Beiler indicated that the museum was in greatest need for an interpretive plan. So be it, then. I was agreeable. Plus, her brief description sounded intriguing. Still, I was intimidated. Unlike many of my peers, I had no prior experience in public history, neither through coursework nor practice. I feared this left me ill-prepared and ill-suited to craft a compelling interpretive plan. Upon explaining this anxiety to Dr. Beiler, she reassured me: “don’t worry,” she said, “You will learn how.” I was allayed, but I was still unsure of the exact nature of my internship? What is an interpretive plan? Better yet, what is interpretation? I know my fair share of jargon, but this was new to me.

So, the first week was devoted to figuring these things out. I plunged headfirst into preliminary readings. I wanted to develop a working definition of “interpretation” before thinking any further. First came books like The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life and Private History in Public: Exhibition and the Settings of Everyday Life, among others. The “public,” as it turns out, can and do develop their own histories, undisturbed by our professional ruminations in our ivory tower. I am now thoroughly convinced it is in our best interest, as a discipline, to remember the public before they forget us. Reading works like Public and Academic History: A Philosophy and Paradigm helped me realize, really, how close the two approaches to history really are. With an enhanced understanding of the main themes and a newfound appreciation of public history, and with week one under my belt, I turned my attention to mastering interpretive planning.