I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but I have recently gotten very into listening to history podcasts. Every day when I walk with Poppy and do my chores and errands, I listen and learn about past events and people. It’s is endlessly fascinating and entertaining and also thought provoking. A few days ago, I was listening to Dan Snow’s History Hits and he said something along the lines of: We live on the layers of the people who came before us. This struck me as so true and profound. It particularly resonated for me because I think about palimpsests all the time in my artistic and scholarly life. The traces we leave behind us, sometimes deliberately and sometimes not.
For the past two days I have attended the virtual Oral History Association Symposium, Trauma Informed Interviewing: Reckoning and Beyond. During the opening session our host also spoke about living on the layers of those who came before us while introducing the land acknowledgements. This thread of thought has stuck with me throughout all of the panel presentations and continues to haunt me. (We have one more session tomorrow.)
One of the hot topics permeating the symposium has been care. How do we care for others as a part of our practice? how do we care for ourselves? In this spirit there are small moments of mindfulness and self/collective care built into the agenda. During the decompression exercise at the end of the day yesterday we listened to Redemption Song by Bob Marley. We were then asked to write a Haiku and I wrote:
Layers of history hold us
The waters of the river flow on
We move forward individually together
The panels today were likewise enlightening and inspiring. We are currently on a break and the last panel still has my mind reeling with excitement and so many thoughts to sort through. I have also been adding to my thesis bibliography, and being reminded of the compassion and generosity of so many Americans. The traits that get lost in the noise of spectacle politics.
I feel lucky to witness and participate in these oral history sessions. I feel fortunate to bear witness to differing practices and perspectives. Learning in this way is a joy and a privilege.