Unable to sleep at an hour when graduate students are normally awake, I thought I would check in on the two blogs I have been following over the past week or so.  Discussing fairly diverse topics of American history, each blog offers intriguing insights on a time before digitization.
The first blog I have been reading, entitled "Publishing the Long Civil Rights Movement," calls attention to various events of the Civil Rights movement on the anniversary of their occurrence. In the fashion of "this day in history," the blog offers a brief history of important events in the movement and includes several hyperlinks to further reading and discussion on certain areas of the story.  Some dates recall momentous successes in the movement, while others--particularly the post from yesterday about the brutal murder of Emmett Till--reflect on some of the heartrending struggles of those who fought to make civil rights for all a reality.  
The blog is not limited in its scope.  While most tend to think of the Civil Rights movement occurring solely during the 1950s and 1960s, "Publishing the Long Civil Rights Movement," true to its name, includes events dating back to the early 20th and even early 19th century.  The site itself is easily navigable and includes many links to outsides sources, categories, and news.  To me, this blog has really hit home as it serves as a reminder of the tragedy and triumphs American society has faced over the past two centuries in the struggle for true civil rights for everyone.  The struggle still continues for many, which is why I think blogs like this one are particularly important.  
The other blog I have discovered is quite different.  Entitled, "The Old, Weird America," this blog--which is not updated too frequently--utilizes the Folkways Anthology to look at American folk music through the years.  The author's goal is to discuss--with links, images, and media--each song compiled by Harry Smith.  The author's first post came in November, 2008, and he most recently posted on June 20, 2012 (discussing his 64th and 65th song).  Clearly, the author has a long way to go.  But the blog itself is super fascinating, using streaming text, music and images to stir new interest in a topic I previously knew little about.  Hopefully the author will post something new soon, yet I know it will take plenty of time for me to get through his existing posts--so much to see and do!!!
Comparably, "Publishing" is much more consistent than "Old, Weird," yet they both are interesting, thought-provoking blogs--showing me once more than technology and history really do get along.
 
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| Remembering Emmett Till | 
 
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| Dock Boggs | 
 
 
 
 
Even though I was born in the Keystone State, home of this nation's very first capital, and grew up not five minutes from Washington's winter encampment at Valley Forge, I have not thought about Pennsylvania nor have I visited in quite some time.  So nostalgia prompted me to plug the Pennsylvania Historical Society (www.hsp.org) into the WayBack Machine and see how things have changed and progressed for this particular institution in their digital world.  
The HSP first went "online" in 2000 with a fairly usable site, which Steve Krug would be pleased to note that it does not make the user "think too hard."  The main part of the page featured a special exhibit and collection, providing clearly underlined, blue-fonted links to read further about.  The only problem with this is that many of the underlined, blue links are typed onto a navy blue background, making the links nearly impossible to read.  Whomp. Overall, the site was well-organized but certainly lacked the refined design of its later sites.
Jumping ahead to January of 2004, and I was sorely disappointed to see a very cluttered, confusing site.  While the site index was clearly labeled, again offering well-defined, underlined, blue-font links, the central area of the site was largely cluttered with banner-style links.  Each link was designed differently and detracted from the overall aesthetic of the site.  
By 2008, the creative design had caught up with the functionality of the site to produce a usable, aesthetically pleasing website.  Each link is clearly marked, and the site has again utilized the center space for featuring an exhibit extremely well.  As Krug notes, less text is more, and this holds true for the HSP page in 2008.
The website today is fairly similar to that of 2008, with minor organizational adjustments.  They still play by the rules of limited graphics and colors, as stressed by Cohen and Rosenzweig.  Each click is clear and easy, another step in the right direction according to Krug.  
After reading chapter 2 and 4 of Cohen and Rosenzweig, I have a much better understanding of what went into the creation of such a site.  While I may tend to be more critical of websites hereon out, I will for sure acknowledge the time and effort that went into many of the extremely usable and well-designed websites I use on a daily basis.
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
Unlike fellow classmate Tina, I WAS born in the digital age, yet have escaped (chosen to sidestep is more like it) most popular forms of digital communication.  I have no iphone (the dumb phone reigns supreme in my mind), I have never tweeted or blogged before, and for long trips I'll take an atlas over gps any day.  Yet here I am, enthusiastically entering the world of public history, of making the past accessible and understandable to present and future generations.  To do so, I just may have to delve into the digital world every now and again.  
A few months ago, I had the opportunity to create a temporary exhibit for Fort Sumter National Monument about Robert Smalls, an escaped slave who fought for the Union and then became a leading politcal figure for South Carolina during Reconstruction.  The exhibit commemorated the 150th anniversary of his daring escape to freedom.  While textually intriguing, the exhibit itself was fairly archaic in its design--matte board frames are not exactly cutting edge.  Yet it served a purpose and the audience received the message.  Unfortunately, the Park Service removed the exhibit a few weeks ago.  In their book, Digital History: A Guide to Gathering, Preserving, and Presenting the Past on the Web, Cohen and Rosenzweig discuss the advantages to online exhibits, most of which are simple translations of preexisting analog displays.  If I would embrace the digital world sitting right in front of me, Robert Smalls could perpetually remain in the public's eye--his story would never be placed in a closet until next year. 
Even so, were Robert Smalls online, would a discussion section be the preferable method for visitors and historians alike to confer about his life and feats?  Cohen and Rosenzweig remark that no, the web is not yet the primary vehicle for historical communication and debate.  And I could ask why, but I think we already know the answer.  Who doesn't love the smell of old books, the pride felt once you have mastered the scrolling bar on the microfilm/fiche machine, or tearing up at the chance to hold (white gloves and all) John Wesley Powell's pocketwatch from his 1869 trailblazing rafting trip through the Grand Canyon (yes, this did happen to me)?
The digital world of history is here, and here to stay.  I can't argue that.  The ability to connect with a wider audience, to transcend barriers of time, distance, and space, is an amazing tool that should be utilized to its fullest.  Cohen and Rosenzweig have demonstrated the positive qualities of the history web while not igoring the dangers.  And so a traditionalist like me, so tied to the tangibles, am finally ready to embrace this medium, and hopefully share my geeky history joy with others.