The History We Don't Know and/or Don't Tell

Yesterday, the topic of this essay (evidenced in its title) came to life in the context of two concrete events: (1) a public conversation at the Aspen Institute with Skip Gates who spoke about on his work on race/class and his more recent documentation of the civil rights movement; and (2) the truly remarkable movie, Hidden Figures, that details the lives of three human "computers" who worked at NASA and enabled the US space program to launch its early flights and the moon shot successfully. Both events displayed actual footage from the 50's and 60's. It was footage I knew -- and remembered.

Here's one important realization: these two just described events treated times in my life as if they were already history. Seriously, I somehow didn't think of events in my own experience as "history;"at least psychically, "ancient" is the word that precedes "history" in my mind. But the truth is that the civil rights movement of the 50's and beyond and the space program's early years were decades ago and are history. I lived through and was a part of them. I am old enough that it is time that I admit that parts of my life are now "history." And with that insight should come the capacity to reflect back with some clarity of vision and some wisdom.

I should have known already that parts of my past are "history." When I teach younger kids and raise certain topics that seem fully integrated into the lexicon and are just part and parcel of my life, they look at me (quite correctly) as if I were making things up; my "lived life" is history to them. They did not live through the civil rights movement (although discrimination surrounds them still, albeit evidenced somewhat differently). They don't remember Ed Sullivan and the Beatles. They don't recall Patty Hearst and her life with the Symbionese Liberation Army. They don't know about Kent State. They are unaware of how we treated returning Viet Nam Vets. Timothy Leary's name doesn't even ring a bell.

But, what is most striking to me is not the history I lived and as to which I have some awareness (even if my contextualization of it is incomplete). It is the vast history that many of us do not even know about -- it is a rich history, filled with insights into who we are/were as a nation and who we are/were as individuals. It has lessons to teach and wisdom to proffer and we do not even know it exists. It's hard to know what you don't know.

Let me be clear: we all know some bits of history that are not widely shared -- take our own family histories (something Skip Gates knows all about and has shared with many). We know about the immigration of family members and their escape from frightful regimes. We know about family members who went off the beaten path and landed in strange places and stranger situations. We know of basement inventions and illicit and then illegal relationships. We know about hidden treasures and collections packed in boxes. We know about traditions even if we don't know how they came to be part of us (The best example is the Marranos lighting candles on Friday in their basements even to this day.)

Many people (myself included) have done research and have written about people whom time forgot, individuals who contributed mightily to our world and who have gone unrecognized. These are often individuals toiling in the trenches when even their peers and sometimes families were unaware of their influence and impact. You can find these people in business, in education, in religion, in medicine, in science. They were and are everywhere.

By not recognizing or seeing or learning about these individuals, we are deprived. And, we are deprived on many levels. First, their impact is worthy of recognition. Second, their experiences can inform the story of our past; these are people who changed the trajectory of what has happened across the disciplines. In a sense, these hidden figures are treasures we have yet to discover. And, perhaps most sadly, these are individuals who lived lives we did not respect or honor or even acknowledge -- except on rare occasion.

Events like that at the Aspen Institute and depicted by the film Hidden Figures do more than expose us to people and events as to which we were unaware and about which we would be enriched if we knew about them. That is the easy part.

These events make me (and I hope others) poignantly aware of how incomplete and distorted our history and story telling have been. And, it suggests that that defect persists. Not only do we not write these people back into history but we do not recognize those among us -- today -- who are reifying a false history and obscuring or obliterating a past that is often ugly and harsh and embarrassing for us. It is far easier to tell a pretty history, even if incomplete.

There is no easy solution to the just described deficiencies in history telling. The problem is actually more about who we recognize as history-makers. But, here's the real issue: it's what we don't know that what we don't know that is debilitating. We have this assumption that we have learned "history." But, the truth is that we progress ahead unaware of vast quantities of history --- of people, of cultures, of struggles, of discrimination and marginalization and values and quests and talents and improvements and contributions. Think about it this way: it is as if we have a detaching retina that has blinded us to lots around us.

We need more than new glasses. Glasses won't illuminate the dark. We need the equivalent of laser surgery to reattach our collective and individual retinas. And we need to know they need to be reattached. For me at least, the Gates event and the movie Hidden Figures served as a clarion call. These two events showed me my detached retinas even though I had lived through the depicted events.

I worry about those in power today who think they know all there is to know. I worry if folks don't know enough to ask questions. I am concerned when folks cannot admit they have much to learn. I am troubled by distortions caused by a failure to see and an unwillingness to change one's perceptions and understandings. I worry for our children to whom we tell a history that is incomplete at best and distorted or false at worst.

There are no easy answers to uncovering our real "history" (and what is "real" is in and of itself a complexity). But, we could do well to recognize "history" as we know it as if it were a book with missing pages and absent illustrations and the lack of key names and events in the indices. If we see the emptiness, even if we don't know what fills it, we are one step ahead of where we are now.

And ask questions. Good questions. Tough questions. There are no stupid questions.