It’s early January and I am writing this column in the week following the passing of former president Jimmy Carter. It is the lull after the holidays, I’m prepping for the coming semester. The news is constantly on in the background, and I’ve been struck by a sentiment I’ve heard more than a few times as experts, journalists, political reporters and consultants, and friends of President Carter reflect on his presidency and post-presidency.

Often, they say something along the lines, “Jimmy Carter ended up being right,” and the reporter or interviewer will pause, ask what is meant by that, and there will be a few minutes’ discussion casting an event from the Carter presidency in a new light. It is a bit of a strange moment for a listener, to hear the notion that Carter was a failed president suddenly come up for reconsideration, as if the historical narrative told to us born after his presidency was suddenly up for revision.

Now, we all know that the narrative of history works this way, that emphases change and unfolding events often trace their roots back to moments or events that seemed innocuous or idiosyncratic (like the installation of solar panels on the White House, a detail of Carter’s presidency often framed as prophetic in the coverage of his passing, or that the “Malaise Speech” never actually contained the word malaise). But what I am reminded of in reading and listening to so much memorializing coverage of Carter is just how pervasive historical presumptions are in our news, and how rare it is that many of these presumptions are given an opportunity for such public reconsideration.

The scholars of public memory remind us that, of course, this is how things work. Historical memory is always up for revision based on the needs of the moment. But I am also reminded that history and historical consciousness is never too far from the surface in public life, that so much politics and culture rest upon shared sets of assumptions. For instance, the assumption that Carter was a failed president, but an important moral voice in his post-presidency; that his loss solidified a shift in political culture in the South that persists to this day; that his presidency marked the end of midcentury, post-war liberalism. 

All of which is to say that I am reminded of how important history and historical training remains to the practice of journalism, especially in ways that make the work of the division all the more urgent. Since the last Clio, folks in the division have been busy planning and programming panels for August’s conference, and the role of history and historical knowledge in various arenas of public life looms large in our offerings. Many thanks to all of you for submitting ideas and to vice chair Caitlin Ciesik-Miskimen for pitching your great ideas to other, co-sponsoring divisions and pulling together a very compelling program, including a panel with the editors of Journalism History and American Journalism that asks “What should media history research do?”

At the same time, Bailey Dick and the teaching committee are pulling together the call for this year’s Jinx Coleman Broussard Award for Excellence in the Teaching of Media History. Recent winners of this award remind us that history happens across the curriculum and that historical consciousness deepens engagement with the current moment. Though many journalism and communication programs have revised history classes out of their core curricula, and media history journals seem to occupy a smaller space in our field than social sciences, historical consciousness seems ever more urgent. History lessons make their way into classes across the curriculum. Mainstream journals and presses invite more historically informed work. And in the wake of a president’s passing, reporters and editors seem more ready to ask, “Did we get his legacy wrong?”

For many of us, the story we tell of history in the discipline has, at times, been tinged with a feeling of decline or envy, but as I look around and take stock of all the work we do in our teaching and research, I am reminded of how much of an appetite for history and historical understanding remains.

Grateful for you all. Things will continue to ramp up as conference season approaches, with awards calls and paper calls hitting your e-mail soon. As you prepare papers, get ready to review, and nominate your peers for award, I hope you will share my optimism that a need for more history remains.