The essay below titled, “So You Want To Be a Historian,” is authored by historian Barbara Fields and appeared in The Washington Post in 1991. I only learned about it yesterday as a result of seeing it on my social media feeds. So much of this resonates with me as a historian, but also as a history educator, and as a student of history. I don’t typically share other people’s writing in its entirety on my own site, but I am going to make an exception here. I am a huge
As a young aspiring historian, this is one of the most inspiring pieces I've ever read; thank you. Love the part about reading a wide variety of books; I've found novels, poetry, or even academic papers on natural sciences to be some of the most compelling stimuli to catalyze my writing and research. And doing my best to withold personal judgement on a topic and instead allow the facts to take me where they may is something I constantly need to be reminded of. She seems to have a beautiful and elegant view of history as the study of humans, a persuit that requires a great deal of empathy.
I’m not a professional historian, just a lifelong student. Agree with Vally Sharp’s comment , this applies to all people, not historians exclusively. The essay resonates with me in many ways, particularly the admonishment to avoid “we” when contemplating history. Thanks for reproducing this.
I’m glad to read her words, so needed today (as they were when written). People ask if I would go back to teaching, and the answer is always no. I felt a tremendous responsibility to teach truth to my students. Sadly, It would be impossible today.
I was not specifically aware of Barbara Fields to the extent that I could have identified her until I first saw her speak in videos here on Civil War Memory. Thank you—I have since gone looking for other videos, speeches, etc.
I appreciate the application of her words to aspiring historians, but I rather think that all of what she wrote here applies not just to those practicing the occupation of history, but to every human being, no matter what their occupation or affiliation. These statements, especially those I assume you highlighted, are much broader than that if we are to right our ship. They speak to the necessity of a self-awareness that applies to every one of us, regardless of occupation. "If you know no world but your own, you do not know your own as well as you should…"
In this respect, we must ALL be, at least, amateur historians in our own vocations.
As a former psychotherapist, it became clear to me that the past events of one client's life—and their conclusions about the "why" they happened—must be probed repeatedly, the "accepted" memory visited and revisited anew, with the goal of guiding a patient to a realization that the self-esteem-destroying notions they've carried about their own value as humans cannot be "true," and abandoned. My assumptions about what happened, how it affected them, were worthless. I could not know the source of their pain.
As a Southerner, the recognition that I did not "know" my ancestors long buried in Confederate cemeteries with their designated affiliations and what drove their joining a fight that could not have benefited them in any way, came early. One great-great-uncle died at Gettysburg and the uselessness of his death has never been lost on me. I can imagine that he simply didn't understand that he was the pawn of rich slaveholders with an agenda irrelevant to his prosperity and never battled with the idea that he was somehow better than the "other," but I have to also consider the possibility that he was an evil man who believed himself superior to every other human unlike himself. I can draw no conclusion, but I also know that although I carry some small portion of his DNA, I am responsible only for what I do now, today, recognizing how he got there.
In everyday life, we solve problems, approach tasks by first looking to the past, at what has been done before. But the result still comes down to "Nothing must matter more to you than your integrity…" because those who are pushing us toward fascism today are, in fact, learning from the past and learning well, with no willingness to "acknowledge generously what you owe to others" or are "ready to admit error."
She was a philosopher here, not just an historian.
I completely agree. Her statement transcends the narrow field of academic history, but it so perfectly captures why so many of us are attracted to the study of history. Thanks for sharing.
Without you students of academic history, the rest of us would be lost. I appreciate you and those of you who are at the task for providing the data and documents of the past we need to make sense of our world. Sad (and angry) at those who turn history into a series of dates intended for multiple choice tests or do not subscribe to what Barbara so eloquently says here—making it an exercise in forwarding an agenda other than a search for truth.
I had not seen this essay before, and appreciate you posting it. I am an independent high school history teacher, lucky enough to not be tied to the curricular whims of state and local politics. I try diligently to impress upon my students that history is not only about the good stuff - though Barbara Fields puts it much more eloquently than I do. Again, thank you for posting.
Great piece. Truly speaks to the essence of what it takes to be a historian - to study, understand, and translate human behavior in an objective way.
As a young aspiring historian, this is one of the most inspiring pieces I've ever read; thank you. Love the part about reading a wide variety of books; I've found novels, poetry, or even academic papers on natural sciences to be some of the most compelling stimuli to catalyze my writing and research. And doing my best to withold personal judgement on a topic and instead allow the facts to take me where they may is something I constantly need to be reminded of. She seems to have a beautiful and elegant view of history as the study of humans, a persuit that requires a great deal of empathy.
I’m not a professional historian, just a lifelong student. Agree with Vally Sharp’s comment , this applies to all people, not historians exclusively. The essay resonates with me in many ways, particularly the admonishment to avoid “we” when contemplating history. Thanks for reproducing this.
I’m glad to read her words, so needed today (as they were when written). People ask if I would go back to teaching, and the answer is always no. I felt a tremendous responsibility to teach truth to my students. Sadly, It would be impossible today.
I was not specifically aware of Barbara Fields to the extent that I could have identified her until I first saw her speak in videos here on Civil War Memory. Thank you—I have since gone looking for other videos, speeches, etc.
I appreciate the application of her words to aspiring historians, but I rather think that all of what she wrote here applies not just to those practicing the occupation of history, but to every human being, no matter what their occupation or affiliation. These statements, especially those I assume you highlighted, are much broader than that if we are to right our ship. They speak to the necessity of a self-awareness that applies to every one of us, regardless of occupation. "If you know no world but your own, you do not know your own as well as you should…"
In this respect, we must ALL be, at least, amateur historians in our own vocations.
As a former psychotherapist, it became clear to me that the past events of one client's life—and their conclusions about the "why" they happened—must be probed repeatedly, the "accepted" memory visited and revisited anew, with the goal of guiding a patient to a realization that the self-esteem-destroying notions they've carried about their own value as humans cannot be "true," and abandoned. My assumptions about what happened, how it affected them, were worthless. I could not know the source of their pain.
As a Southerner, the recognition that I did not "know" my ancestors long buried in Confederate cemeteries with their designated affiliations and what drove their joining a fight that could not have benefited them in any way, came early. One great-great-uncle died at Gettysburg and the uselessness of his death has never been lost on me. I can imagine that he simply didn't understand that he was the pawn of rich slaveholders with an agenda irrelevant to his prosperity and never battled with the idea that he was somehow better than the "other," but I have to also consider the possibility that he was an evil man who believed himself superior to every other human unlike himself. I can draw no conclusion, but I also know that although I carry some small portion of his DNA, I am responsible only for what I do now, today, recognizing how he got there.
In everyday life, we solve problems, approach tasks by first looking to the past, at what has been done before. But the result still comes down to "Nothing must matter more to you than your integrity…" because those who are pushing us toward fascism today are, in fact, learning from the past and learning well, with no willingness to "acknowledge generously what you owe to others" or are "ready to admit error."
She was a philosopher here, not just an historian.
I completely agree. Her statement transcends the narrow field of academic history, but it so perfectly captures why so many of us are attracted to the study of history. Thanks for sharing.
Without you students of academic history, the rest of us would be lost. I appreciate you and those of you who are at the task for providing the data and documents of the past we need to make sense of our world. Sad (and angry) at those who turn history into a series of dates intended for multiple choice tests or do not subscribe to what Barbara so eloquently says here—making it an exercise in forwarding an agenda other than a search for truth.
I had not seen this essay before, and appreciate you posting it. I am an independent high school history teacher, lucky enough to not be tied to the curricular whims of state and local politics. I try diligently to impress upon my students that history is not only about the good stuff - though Barbara Fields puts it much more eloquently than I do. Again, thank you for posting.
Hi Darby,
Fields's words are an important reminder of why we do what we do. All the best to you and your students this year.
I'm yours. whether you want me or not.
Great essay. I wish I could say the profession had a bright future now, 32 years later.
Yeah, that last sentence didn't hold up well at all.