This winter I have been thinking more and more about time. As a historian, I purport to study change over time, but I have to admit that like many of my colleagues, I give much more attention to the numerator in that equation than I do to that inexorable denominator. It is hardly novel to note that time passes, and that periods of dramatic historical change like the one we seem to be living through currently are typically marked by a “before,” a “during,” and an “after.” The change is the thing we are interested in; time serves as background, a sort of metronomic scenery that gives the action relief or context and enables generalizations. Hard times. Good times. Times of war and peace. Or a particular bête noire of mine in student writing, “olden times.”
I have been considering time more closely in part to try to make sense of what it means to be living through what many characterize as a “time of crisis.” The term “crisis” is itself atemporal one, used to describe periods of intense difficulty, danger, and important decision making––a turning point, even––and in many senses it does well to describe the import of the many urgent, overlapping challenges that have come to dominate news cycles and shape our lives over the last two years.
The COVID-19 pandemic is the most obvious of these, but the pressing imperatives of climate change, economic inequality, and racism, already extant in American life, have also contributed to a sense of epochal urgency since the pandemic began. And yet, as a historian, the persistence of the COVID-19 crisis has me remembering that temporal frames matter quite a bit. Just as not everything is peaceful in a time of peace and not everything is hard during hard times, not everything that happens during a time of crisis is itself a crisis. People find successes and joys; when they face challenges, those challenges are not necessarily emergencies. And the longer the temporal frame of thecrisis––and here we are at two years––the easier it is to see the rich, complicated, and often lasting encounters of daily life that flat temporal designations like “a time of crisis” tend to mask. Tendrils of these encounters often reach beyond the present moment into both past and future; they tether us to communities and institutions that help us measure continuity and change over time.Crack open a “time of crisis”––be it the current pandemic or the Blitz of 1940-41 or the depressions of the 1890s––and you see that there is a whole lot of everyday life that goes on during periods of historical change.
That is certainly true of the Reed history department, anyway. As we begin our fourth consecutive “pandemic semester,” I am happy to report that most of what we are focused on continues to revolve around the rigorous and inclusive exploration of the past that shapes what we do, “time of crisis” or otherwise. We have returned to mostly in-person courses, and our history faculty continues to work hard to make those courses inclusive, effective, and informative in new and creative ways. We were also fortunate to take advantage of favorable pandemic conditions in the fall to re-start our extracurricular programming with a very successful Wallace T. MacCaffrey lecture, delivered by Michelle McKinley, the Bernard B. Kliks Professor of Law & Director of the Center for the Study of Women in Society at the University of Oregon. In the spring, we will welcome former visiting assistant professor Shane Dillingham back to Reed to present his research on indigeneity in Mexico in the twentieth century and indigenous people’s interactions with education and politics. You can read more about Shane’s talk on page 4. Outside of the classroom, Margot Minardi continues to lead our thesising seniors in the “Thesis Fridays”series as they work with their advisers toward graduation in the spring. Current students can find information about the annual Thesis Extravaganza on page 4. You can also checkout Michael Breen discussing his new role aseditor-in-chief of the online organization H-France on pages 5 and 6.
As we shared in the fall newsletter, Doug Fix will retire at the end of the spring semester after serving the college for more than 30 years.
As we prepare to celebrate Doug’s career, the department has also nearly completed the search for a new faculty member in East Asian History. Current students can keep an eye out for emails from the department list-serve for opportunities to meet the candidates. The department is also in the midst of a search for a visiting faculty member in African, Middle Eastern, or South Asian history. Current students, keep an eye out for opportunities to participate in that search, too!
As always, through thick and thin, we Reedies have been reading! Take a look at what students, faculty, and alumni in the Reed History community have been up to in our “What Are You Reading?” section on page 7.
Finally, we share the sad news that our much beloved emeritus colleague, Ed Segel, passed away this fall at the age of eighty-three. Jackie Dirks remembers Ed briefly here on pages 8 and 9; you can also find a more extensive celebration of Ed’s life and work at Reed here.
The spring semester is upon us, and I am excited to see students back in the classroom as we get back to the work of exploring sources, honing critical writing skills, and feeding the wonder and curiosity that comes with teaching and doing history at the college. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: The present is uncertain. The future is unpredictable. It’s a great time to be a historian!
All the best,
Your Humble Chair,
Josh Howe