Hidden in plain sight

They’re less like National Treasure and more like The History Detectives. Their magic is less epic than cerebral, but they are subtly powerful. They are the fail-safe protection on our governments, enabling citizens to petition their officials for the redress of grievances. They are temples of secrets.
I’d venture to guess that the reader has likely passed their local or state archives or even a branch of the National Archives without realizing it. They are frequently crowded into basements, or are sometimes overshadowed by a single exhibit. Most people don’t have a good sense of what they are or what they’re for.
Archives answer questions. For those who work for the community, they are a means to understand complex issues involving our government or other institutions. Archives contain the reasons and the politics behind the establishment of a park or state forest boundary, document legal battles between citizens and government agencies, record what some parcel of land was really intended for, and chronicle how communities have succeeded or failed when faced with all manner of environmental problems. More generally, archives are home to records of the decisions an institution makes and to the evidence of the actions it takes. Sometimes they’re even a place to make a point.
Archives offer something to people who want to understand the past- their own, their family’s, and their community’s. They contain snapshots of the places people connect with the government- the ubiquitous census records, land patents and deeds, marriage licenses, birth certificates, and the oft-overlooked prison records. (Everyone wants to discover that they are descended from royalty. It’s more likely that you’re related to horse thieves and other nogoodniks.) Sometimes, you can even find a picture. These records, together with the recollections of other family members, can help you to uncover where your family is really from, where and how they lived, and even paints a picture of what they wanted out of life. Archives build a human story.
In creating and answering questions with these collections, you’re doing the impossible. You’re creating something of expanding value without expending anything. This value has the potential to grow without limit as you learn more, make new connections, and share all of this with others.
Perhaps the best part about an archive is that you get to touch most if not all of their collections. While museum objects are safely sequestered under glass, archival documents are handed-over by the Hollinger box-full. You can hold in your hands Ralph Waldo Emerson’s sermons, a century-old photograph of the wild mountains that would become Shenandoah National Park, or your grandfather’s enlistment records, revealing that he lied about his age in order to join the Marine Corps. Some archives or manuscript collections contain maps of places you know, made before you knew them, or hand written notes about the way a classic book was originally going to end. Some contain sound recordings and moving pictures. They establish a tangible connection to history and make it relevant to the present.
Obviously, this tip is more complicated than carrying a bandana to reduce the number of paper towels you use or buying local beer to save energy. But, whether you need resources to make your community a better place or you want to put stock in something of enduring value, archives offer a way to be the solution.

Author's note: The people pictured above are committing a crime. They are highlighted here not because I agree with their sentiment (I don’t think there is a constitutional basis for their assertion), but because a friend alerted me that this demonstration was unfolding at the National Archives earlier this week. It seemed fitting to include it.

Image sources:
Anonymous photographer, undisclosed stack location, Washington, DC
Veterans for Peace
National Park Service

Have some coffee, clean-up the Bay

For readers in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, there’s an opportunity to use your caffeine addiction to preserve habitat, improve water quality, and educate young people about ecology. Through June 3rd, area Starbucks will make a 10 cent donation to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation every time you buy a drink in a travel mug.
As it happens, Starbucks all over the country will give you a price break (generally a dime) every time you use one of those reusable cups. At $12-$15 (or more) for the travel mug, it’ll pay for itself in a mere 120-150 (or more) cups of coffee. OK, so that’s not a huge incentive, but it does mean keeping a great deal of waste out of landfills. While you’re at it, you might bring a cloth napkin with you while you enjoy your Bay-friendly(-ier) beverage and avoid throwing out more paper. (Being the only weirdo who does this is beginning to lose its novelty.)

Image source: REI

A watershed choice in party politics

The pundits called the race. And called it, and called it, and called it. Given the number of times that they’ve called it wrong, and given the simple arithmetic truth that the race is still on, one would hope to see the media spend more time observing and reporting than concluding.
The fact that the primaries rage on is a significant fact in my part of the country. Maryland, Virginia, and the District of Columbia are holding their primaries today. This novel grouping was considered a harebrained idea when it began to materialize a year ago. But, for the two states involved, it now means a greater than usual significance in party politics. For the District, it means some rare diagonal say in how residents are governed.
I see what is perhaps an even greater change in this assemblage. The contest was at first nicknamed by the media, “The Beltway Primary”, a decision that irritated the many far-flung residents of the region who never use the road, and which similarly rankled those of us who unfortunately must. Who on Earth would want to be identified by a filthy, noisy highway, known for some of the worst traffic in the country? The moniker “Chesapeake Primary” now seems to be attached to the race.
Bravo.
Though I can’t imagine such reasoning entered into the minds of many who have popularized the name, Chesapeake Primary is both geographically and ecologically insightful. The vast majority of residents of Maryland and Virginia, and all of DC, live in areas that drain ultimately into the Chesapeake. The Bay affects our economy, our weather, and our identity. We impact the amount and cleanliness of the water that enters into it, influencing the health of blue crabs and oysters, and the livelihoods of watermen who depend upon them.
In this election’s name, we have organized part of a national political race around a bioregion. This decision could contribute to important changes in thinking in the relationships between politics and the environment. Chief among these changes is the realization that where we live and the resources we share are at least as important as our party affiliations when building our government.

Image source: NASA/GSFC Earth Observatory