The Wynds of History

A wynd is a path. An alley, a narrow lane. Sometimes defined as one that connects two houses. To have plural wynds, therefore, is to have more than one path, or more than one way. These courses may have very little to do with each other beyond linking similar destinations. Or, they may be so similar that to discern the difference takes personal observation or a careful review of first hand experience. The topic of this blog is the study and interpretation of history, as filtered through my experiences and observations.

What do the wynds of history connect? More specifically, how and with what are those pathways created? As an amateur historian, I have been fascinated by the use of personal stories and objects to define and share a specific moment or place in time with a public audience. As a professional in the nonprofit field, I am immensely dedicated to the preservation of institutional memory and with matching the passions of individuals with the visions of service organizations.

While an undergraduate at the College of Wooster and William Smith College, I studied how the written word reflects how society has shaped a specific individual, the author, and how in turn the same book can affect and shape society. Fifteen years after earning my B.A. in history, I am stepping back onto the path of professional study as a graduate student in the public history program at Temple University. Current curiosities include questions such as how do you teach the history of an object that changed the course of our country but currently isn't considered politically correct? Do you bring the observer to an object (in a physical location) or the object to the observer (through technology and media)? How do you share 19th Century concepts of gender with 21st Century children, in a way that dignifies both generation's mores?

At this juncture, I identify with the definition of public history as “history in motion.” The method or process by which the discipline of history is shared with others, specifically, the general audience of the American people. Public history is on one hand a living curiosity cabinet, a seemingly unending organized jumble of historical items, ideas, and locations and on the other hand it is the methods and tools by which that history is shared – preservation, education, interpretation. I also view public history method through which I can serve my community, a critical civic enrichment.

As I begin this new leg of my journey, I find myself intrigued by the dichotomy between the houses of academic and public history. Is there a path that leads from one to the other or are the two disciplines adjacent, with occasional intersections? How much does the perceived breach within the community of historians affect our ability to articulate current understandings of the past, to each other, and to the public? How do those interpretations connect? Do they connect? How does the public's perception and internalization of those concepts direct future study, or funding, or interest?

During the Fall 2009 semester, this blog will follow my course work in the class “Managing History: An Introduction to Public History” taught by Dr. Seth Bruggeman. You'll find my responses to the readings and reports on our classes' collaborations with the Wagner Free Institute of Science of Philadelphia. I hope to also share observations on my readings in early U.S. social history as taught by Dr. Jonathan Wells as well as those from my adventures in public history in my own back yard.

Why “Wynds?”

I wasn't regularly called by a diminutive of my name until my social group in college shortened "Lyndsey" to "Lynds." My friend, Sus, took the nickname one step further to an endearment - "Wynds." Usually used in the statement, "Oh, Wynds." (For the full effect, insert appropriate pause after the "Oh" and linger on the long i sound.) Somewhere down the line I learned that "wynds" is a legitimate word and works wonderfully on the Scrabble board.


The phrase "a narrow lane or alley" brings to my mind images of the lanes of Philadelphia, which neither technology nor time have fundamentally changed. Of rutted dirt roads along open fields in the British countryside. Of the alleys that still exist where I live in the semi-rural, semi-urban Lehigh Valley where garages sit directly on the one-car-wide roadways and long yards lead up to porch-covered backs of houses.


I like being a wynd. A functional, off-the-beaten path, no-nonsense, sometimes quaint, sometimes rough, object with a purpose. A connection between two houses, or arguments, or points of view.

I wrote the above definition in early 2008 as the intro to a conceptualized public blog in which I might analyze what happens when I stumble along my path or meet an obstacle coming towards me on that one-car-wide thoroughfare. Thoughts on how to fit my experiences into a larger context. I view history as a process by which a specific is perceived by an audience, set within a context, and then retold. You are welcome to join me on my journey of interpreting, analyzing, and refining that process.