Recording and sharing the stories that shape our past
From viral Tsar bums to family anecdotes
This week, after I-can't-even-remember-how-many-days, I completed some stuff for a special project set to come out later this year (I think), which shines a light on a monumental yet overlooked historical event.
It was a huge thing. There were many, many witnesses to this story. Yet for some unknown reason, hardly anyone knows about it and those that do, don't seem to care.
This experience, combined with the experience of working on my latest book, A Woman's World, in which I came across a massive collection of extraordinary stories of women who have made significant contributions to world history and whose names are barely mentioned in history books today, have left me obsessively thinking about how so many experiences and narratives become completely forgotten over time. It's a grim reality. And I'm not talking just about the significant battles, the historical inventions and innovations, and the big Emperors and Queens, but about the ordinary stories and the ordinary people, too.
I went back to the list I made while working on the book, which contains more than 200 names, and selected a few stories that ended up not being published.
Let me share a few snippets with you.
Anna Shchetinina was a Soviet merchant marine sailor who became the world's first woman to serve as a captain of an ocean-going vessel, at the age of 27.
Alice Elizabeth Anderson founded Australia's first all-women garage workshop at just 22. Alice Anderson Motor Service offered vehicle services as well as courses on engine technology to give women an opportunity to broaden their knowledge base.
Zewditu was the first female head of an internationally recognized country in Africa in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Martha Matilda Harper built an impressive and innovative international network of 500 franchised hair saloons - each owned and run by a woman. The first 100 franchises only went to low-income women, who were trained by Harper herself. Her innovations laid the foundation for the modern concept of the hair salon.
Cecilia Payne made a bold and groundbreaking proposal in her 1925 doctoral thesis: that the Sun, as well as other stars, were composed primarily of hydrogen and helium. At first, this theory was met with much resistance; eventually, however, it proved correct.
Rebecca Lee Crumpler became the first Black female physician in America. Based out of Boston and Richmond, she focused on serving those who otherwise lacked access to healthcare.
Mary Tape, a Chinese immigrant woman, made history when she successfully battled the Board of Education over her 8-year-old daughter's right to attend public school in San Francisco. The lawsuit became a landmark and was an important step toward school desegregation.
Tia Ciata was one of the most important figures in Brazilian culture. Musicians and composers frequently met at her house in Rio de Janeiro to collaborate, creating an invaluable cultural center that eventually became of the birthplaces of samba.
Have you heard about any of them before? Let me know down here in the comments!
Fading memories
I know it's kinda stating the obvious, but recently, this feeling hit me like a ton of bricks: no matter how much we read and research, our understanding and knowledge of history is just a drop in a vast ocean. But the multitude of facts that we do know is very valuable, a treasure trove of human experience.
And it's up to us to ensure these tales don't just fade away.
Sure, it's unrealistic to think we can preserve every single fragment of history that exists. The human experience is incredibly vast, varied and extremely complex, and our past is a web of interconnected stories. Yet, this should not deter us from our mission. Every story we unearth and preserve adds another piece to this gigantic puzzle.
“History is who we are and why we are the way we are.”
David McCullough, American historian
I remember growing up seeing people often describing history as a series of boring facts, figures, and dates, almost like an awful, dry chunk of bread they had to swallow in school. But history is so much more than that. It is a living, breathing, and dynamic record of human experience. And if you're a subscriber here, dear reader, you're probably nodding your head right now.
On the other hand, in the nearly eight years I've been publishing my work on social media, sometimes tackling complicated and sad topics, I've noticed something else.
Some people have this dangerous tendency to sanitize history, envisioning it as a compilation of bedtime tales of courage and compassion, all while ignoring that it also encompasses the darker narratives; the acts of individuals whose intentions were far from noble and events that are somber reminders of humanity's capacity for cruelty.
Let me tell you about this one interaction I had on Twitter a few years ago.
I had just posted a colorized portrait of Hitler - with plenty of context; it wasn't completely out of the blue - and this one guy was enraged. He demanded I take it down and asked how I could be "celebrating" a figure as heinous as Adolf Hitler.
This individual clearly misunderstood the nature of what I do. While it's true that my colorizations often shine a spotlight on historical figures, they're not necessarily a celebration. In fact, most of the time, they are not. When I do set out to celebrate someone, the tribute comes through the story I attach to the photo, not through the act of colorizing the picture itself. It should be pretty obvious.
In my work, or whenever we think about what history really is, cherry-picking and choosing to hold only the happy stories and inspiring characters is like tearing out all the unsettling pages from a history book.
I'm often asked about my purpose and goal. Why colorize photographs that are already incredible in their original form, in black and white? My answer has always been quite simple: my intention is never to create a version that tops the original - whatever that means - but rather to make the past more emotionally accessible. It's about breaking down barriers that sometimes make historical events - all of them - feel monotonous, distant, abstract, and impersonal.
I like to think of it as my modest contribution to this enormous task of preserving history, using art and technology to present it in a different light and reach those who perhaps wouldn't otherwise care or engage.
And I'm definitely not alone in this task!
There's an entire world of museums and cultural institutions out there using creativity and technology to bring the past to life in exciting and fascinating new ways, like the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center using artificial intelligence and virtual reality to engage visitors on an immersive tour of concentration camps led by Holocaust survivors who witnessed them first-hand.
At the Acropolis, in Greece, as you walk among its ruins and marvel at them, an augmented and virtual reality tool allows you to visualize temples and statues just as they were 2,000 years ago.
At Casa Batlló in Barcelona, you are treated to an immersive experience that plays with “impossible volumetric projections, binaural sound, motion sensors, and even appeals to senses such as smell," giving you a completely unique and sensory-rich journey into the past.
And let's not forget the creative geniuses at RT Creative Lab, whose innovative projects 1917LIVE and ROMANOVS100 continue to blow my mind.
By combining the power of technology with art and creativity, we're turning history into something that not only can be remembered but experienced.
We're ensuring that the tales of our past aren't just told but felt.
Finding hidden gems in ordinary stories
You don't need million-dollar budgets or cutting-edge technology to partake in this exciting mission. The small stories, the ordinary tales, the seemingly mundane moments and people are an essential (and sometimes the most interesting) part of this mosaic.
Maybe start with your own family.
Record your grandparents' stories, digitize old family photos (and don't ruin them with AI colorization that will turn your grandpa into a walking rainbow with an unhealthy obsession for orange and purple), record family traditions or trace your family tree. Engage with local history too. Volunteer at a nearby museum, or take part in archiving projects in your community. Even sharing interesting historical content you come across online can contribute to raising historical awareness among your circle.
And for that friend of yours who's really history-resistant? Show them Tsar Nicholas II's derriere, my most esteemed contribution to the grand mission of preserving our past.
Perhaps a new counter culture initiative could begin by publishing a roster of the world's most forgettable men...it would, unfortunately, be a very long list.
Thank you Marina, for your contribution to sustaining the species, though as warped and wretched as it sometimes may be.
A couple of years ago, while I was teaching public schools in Tokyo, I came across a Quora post about the story of Czeslawa Kwoka, along with your colorized photo of her. I broke down in tears.
That colorized photo has since become the avatar of my Zuckerberg-Fakebook account, and her story has now been shared with at least 5,000 followers. Because of our collective incapacity to learn from history, Czeslawa still lives ... and dies. Over and over. Like Prometheus, the price and the pain never stops. This forever war of mankind against its own worst nature.
Abraços do Japão, e de alguém que ama a música brasileira, um de nossos poucos consolos.
steve