home again

Well I've been home for just over a week and today I finally felt like I was back on my A game mentally. I loved Montana and had not realized I was quite as fatigued as it turns out I was... between resting and catching up with family and friends I pretty much did nothing of much merit last week but moon over MT, but how much credit I should be given based on that is up for debate (who needs a whiner?).

I haven't even shown the family any of my pictures yet and lord knows I took gobs. Its really spectacular that so many of the group photos have been posted through the website (there's a special program/site that has the photos and a link via osvingen.org) but I haven't even taken much time to look through those either. You know, for a hobby photographer/lover of the medium I sure am letting the ball drop on this one.

I've done a bit more research on the living history programs that the MHC provides during an average summer and still am hoping to get back to the area a few times this summer, but between the golf tournament, weddings galore, thesis work, internship hunting/work, and hopefully an attendance @ the Agaidika Days in Salmon it is going to be a tight fit. What's even a bit more ... amazing or goofy ... is that I'm totally ok with being a bit overwhelmed with all the things I need to do and I'm perfectly content with having to work harder so I can get back there again.

I've been asked a few times about my favorite part of field school/the area and I'm not sure I'm able to give a totally, 100% thorough and honest answer. Look at some of the work we did - that's amazing to me. Having not been in the discipline for three years but getting to work on reenactment proposals, walk through some of those old buildings, TALK WITH THE MHC STAFF AND NOT ANNOY THE HELL OUT OF THEM, and be allowed to traverse some of the most beautiful country surrounding Virginia City - that's just fantastic to me. But I'd be remiss if I only talked in terms of work because the entire experience was so much more.

Now I'm sure a lot of people will disagree - undoubtedly there's people who think it wasn't just great and in some regards they're right; maybe they think that work was the only thing important about our entire time there and again in some regards they're right. But I managed to learn a lot about my field, about this place and time, these people, and most importantly about me. It may be more accurate to say that I had an opportunity to remember something about me that I had forgotten... I love to be involved in a "bigger picture" project with several others even tho' I don't really play well with said others.

When I was a sophomore, I believe, I paged at the state capitol and it was a great experience. One day while walking up the marble steps after having greeted the guards by name (always remember to bring guards cookies - preferably a wide variety - because they will adore you ever after) it suddenly dawned on me: I was one piece of the whole, one cog on the machine. Right, wrong, or otherwise the "machine" otherwise known as our state government is a pretty big, sorta kinda impressive thing and to be involved... well it was just a really heady, yet, weighty moment in my life.

So here I am, in the middle of Montana, with people I barely know and others I don't know at all, and I'm again part of a bigger thing. I think this really was brought home to me when the Agaidika took time to travel to Virginia City and be pestered by tons of questions before hearing our SNHP proposal... it matters.

I have always wanted to do something that matters and, I'll admit, have been worried that my work as a historian would never really matter. After all, I joke that all historians do is study old dead white men... well no more of that but still... So to have those people take that time, to get to be a part of this much larger story and history, it was reaffirming that what I am doing is important and that it does matter.

So I guess the best part of field school for me was refocusing my head and my heart and reminding myself that my work can and ought to matter.

After all, everyone has a story - we're just here to tell it.