By the time this issue of Clio is emailed to our members, I will have participated in at least three walking tours under the blazing European summer sun with a group of undergraduates on a study abroad trip to the Czech Republic. The tours take us through the twisty, turny, cobblestone streets of Old Town to former Soviet era monuments to the sites of protest and resistance. We walk by statues and memorials and over stumbling stones and bridges. And we talk a lot about the way that these sites of memory influence the way people engage with and understand history.
I am teaching a class on media, storytelling, and historical narratives that encourages students to think about the way history is constructed, and how memory and history become intertwined. There’s plenty of fodder for discussion focused on the Czech Republic, as students learn about the successful push for an independent Czech state following World War I and then the Nazi, and later Communist, efforts to mute dissent and rewrite history. Yet, it’s not difficult to see parallels between the events of the twentieth century in the Czech Republic and what is currently unfolding in the United States.
At times, it can be hard not to look at the construction of historical narratives as a strategic communication exercise. Political actors can influence everything from the selection of facts to the presentation of evidence to the analysis of what it means and why it matters. A recent NPR series explored the fractured landscape of historical markers in the United States, and examined the groups behind the selection of historic sites and who writes the content on the signs. The series is a great reminder that politics can dictate what is conserved and what is abandoned; what is elevated, and what is silenced; and what is seen as official, and what is labeled as unsanctioned. We’ve seen politics and history clash numerous times in the last year and a half, especially as we get closer to the culmination of the America250 celebration this July. There’s a strong temptation, among certain entities, to create neat and tidy historical narratives that eliminate nuance.
The History Division has not shied away from embracing the complications of historical research in its 2026 programming. The research paper competition featured a number of submissions that address calls to diversify sites of historical study and represent new approaches to examining historical questions related to mass communication. We’ve also developed a strong lineup of panels in collaboration with other divisions. This includes a re-examination of community journalism during Hurricane Katrina; a panel in collaboration with the American Journalism Historians Association on defending mass communication history; and a high density, interactive session that covers journalism lessons of America250. Many thanks go to our vice chair and programming chair Jason Guthrie for his efforts to pull these together. You can preview the preliminary copy and register for the conference here.
As for the intrepid group of study abroad undergraduates, they are going to spend the next few weeks walking around thinking about the ways that history and memory is imparted on the urban landscape. Mass media, especially media technology, will also feature into our discussions, since media access and radio play central roles in the historical events we will learn about (highly recommend checking out the film Waves, a Czech-language historical drama about Czechoslovak Radio during the Prague Spring and subsequent Warsaw Pact Invasion). Getting students to understand that history is complex and nuanced – and appreciate that mess – is, hopefully, one way to fight back against the impulse to simplify.
Dr. Caitlin Cieslik-Miskimen
Chair
History Division