Today’s post comes from Alexis Bhagat, a student at SUNY University of Albany, currently studying for a Master of Science in Information Science, with a concentration in Archives & Records Management. If you would like to write a guest post, please use the guidelines here. It has been edited for brevity and length before publication on the I&A Blog by the current blog coordinator, Burkely Hermann.
Promotional image for symposium discussed in this post. The Artwork: “Change Our Worlds” by Shyama Kuver in collaboration with The People’s Paper Co-op, which was created for the 2023 Black Mama’s Bail Out
During Brown University’s announcement of their acquisition of the papers of the celebrated, and long-incarcerated, writer Mumia Abu-Jamal, Amanda E. Strauss, director of the John Hay Library, remarked that “the carceral system touches millions of Americans’ lives, yet the historical archive has a scarcity of stories of incarcerated people.” This glaring absence of incarcerated voices in the historical record is precisely what the Hay Library seeks to address with their groundbreaking collecting initiative, Voices of Mass Incarceration in the United States. This initiative is aimed at providing researchers with first-person accounts from individuals who have endured the harsh realities of prisons and jails in the era of mass incarceration.
At the heart of this new initiative are the Mumia Abu-Jamal papers. There are “more than 60 boxes of letters, notebooks, manuscripts, pamphlets, personal artifacts, books, and other items.” These invaluable documents, previously in the custody of historian Johanna Fernandez, will be made available to researchers starting September 27, 2023, when the John Hay Library at Brown University officially unveils this collection. The finding aid is currently accessible online through the RIAMCO online inventory, allowing scholars and the public to explore its contents.
To celebrate the inauguration of this vital collection, the Hay Library has organized an exhibition that will span the Brown University campus. The exhibition will be complemented by a three-day symposium that will bring together over two dozen artists and experts, each offering unique perspectives on the multifaceted impacts of mass incarceration, from its effects on health and policing to issues of gender and racial justice. Together, the symposium and exhibition are designed to shed light on the daily realities of incarceration. They offer a catalyst for a broader discussion on American history and culture, as seen through the material records of one man. Thus, the exhibition and symposium both exemplify the power of archives to illuminate history while also exemplifying a historic flaw of the archives profession in collecting the papers of prominent individuals.
Mumia Abu-Jamal occupies a singular place in American history. He is a rallying point for a global movement advocating for his amnesty, the object of organized outrage from the Fraternal Order of Police and their supporters. Given his status, and the controversies around his case, it’s undeniable that Mumia Abu-Jamal is a “prominent individual” whose papers would be coveted by any repository in the United States. The Voices of Mass Incarceration project aims to move beyond collecting the papers of prominent individuals and to collect the papers of incarcerated individuals more broadly. Last year, Mary Murphy of the Hay Library said that her team has identified a mere 25 archival holdings in American libraries related to first-person experiences of incarcerated individuals. The Voices of Mass Incarceration project aims to address this archival silence. I am curious if Murphy has reassessed her statement over the past year. Is the silence of the voices of incarcerated individuals primarily a problem of acquisition? Or is it also not a problem of retrieval?
Consider, for instance, other ways to search: The first newspaper published within a prison by an incarcerated person was “Forlorn Hope,” released in 1800 by William Keteltas (1765–1812) while he was in a New York City debtor’s prison. This occurred two decades before the first surge in American prison construction from 1816 to 1825. There are no “Keteltas Papers” in American repositories, but correspondence between William Keteltas and other individuals can be found in various archives. This includes letters to Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and John Adams, from 1801 to 1812, found on the National Archives’ Founders Online website.
By using different frameworks to search, users can uncover writings and artwork created behind bars, which is scattered throughout America’s archives. In this respect, the curation of a digital collection, by the Beinecke Library in 2020, is an exemplary project. It features writings and artwork by incarcerated individuals drawn from the library’s extensive holdings. The collection includes notable pieces such as Austin Reed’s memoir manuscript, poems by Ethridge Knight and Leonard Peltier, and periodicals like “The Shadow” monthly, produced by Oregon prisoners, and “The Angolite,” produced by inmates at Louisiana’s Angola State Penitentiary.
In conclusion, the Voices of Mass Incarceration project, anchored by the Mumia Abu-Jamal papers, represents a pivotal moment in archival collections. It not only seeks to bridge the historical gap by bringing forth the narratives of those incarcerated but also underscores the urgency of acknowledging and addressing the myriad challenges faced by millions of prisoners in America. This initiative serves as a powerful testament to the transformative potential of archives, revealing both the past and present contradictions within the Mumia Abu-Jamal papers and offering a promising path toward a more inclusive historical record.
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. Today’s post comes from Burkely Hermann, Metadata Librarian for the National Security Archive and current I&A Blog Coordinator. This post does not represent the views or positions of the Issues & Advocacy committee or National Security Archive. The views expressed here are the views of Mr. Hermann, and are not the views of any other individuals or organizations.
Promotional image on the official website for the ICA’s Congress, screenshotted on Aug. 15, 2023, trying to legitimize their presence in the UAE. I re-examined the page before publishing this article and the numbers were the same.
Recently, there has been a hullabaloo on social media about the location of The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA)’s World Library and Information Congress (WLIC) in 2024. Set to occur in Dubai, the most-populous city in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and capital of the Dubai Emirate, it was panned on social media as willfully ignorant, divisive, disappointing, embarrassing, spineless, craven, shameful, disgusting, disregarding queer librarians, driven by money, and resulting in a conference attended by “mostly bigots and…centrists.” Others criticized it as undemocratic, since the IFLA’s own press release showed majority opposition among those voting on the resolution, especially those from “Europe, North America…Latin America and the Caribbean”. Some proposed that the conference could be held any other location in the region that wasn’t hostile and “outwardly dangerous…to human rights,” stated they would not join the IFLA as a result, called for a boycott on the conference, or fumed that the decision was being blamed by the IFLA on members from “Asia-Oceania, the Middle East and North Africa and Sub-Saharan Africa.” It appeared there were a small number in favor, who seemed excited that IFLA’s conference was coming to their country, but it is not known how representative that is, as such individuals appear to be outliers. [1]
What is not talked about as much is the congress/conference of the International Council on Archives (ICA) in Abu Dhabi, the UAE capital, set for October 9 to October 13. Official materials call it a “unique chance” to network with fellow archivists and a place to promote the “best examples” of achievement in archival and records management. The ICA claims it will be somewhere where archivists can connect with professionals across the world to build networks to empower our “knowledge societies,” all under the “hospitality of Abu Dhabi.” Considering the response to the IFLA conference, I have to ask whether the ICA conference is, rather than being some networking opportunity, a slap in the face for queer people and unsafe for those people? It is an indication of the non-neutrality of archives and un-representative nature of the ICA? Should the conference, due to its location, be boycotted? [2] In this post, I’ll answer those questions and explain why the ICA’s reasoning is flawed, and talk about the deeper problems with this conference, which go beyond the conference taking place somewhere that is hostile to queer people.
Much of the opposition to the IFLA’s conference appeared to center around lack of rights in the UAE for queer people, more than any other reason. There was some mention of how the location went against the IFLA’s own values. Some called for a new location in a “developing country”. There are further problems with the ICA’s choice of Abu Dhabi as the conference location. It’s not the focus on climate change, sustainability, accessibility (of information), memory work, peace, and tolerance, nor even the theme of enriching “knowledge societies,” which are welcome. Rather it is that the conference is tied directly to the UAE’s government. One speaker, Abdulla Majed Al-Ali, currently Director General of the UAE’s National Library and Archives, formerly worked for Abu Dhabi’s Department of Culture and Tourism. He also worked in the country’s armed forces. Another speaker, Dr. Abdullah Al Raisi, chair of the ICA’s conference organizing committee, was formerly director general of that archives. That institution has a message from the UAE’s Vice President, Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, the deputy head of state of the entire country, on its website. The archives declares that safeguarding documents is an important responsibility of a “sovereign, enlightened state,” notes the importance of improved archiving to preserve the nation’s history, and states that this archives will reinforce the concept of “institutionalization and enhance[d] national identity.” [3]
That isn’t all. The UAE’s National Library and Archivesis directly involved in fostering nationalism, instilling loyalty, values, and virtues of the UAE’s founder, Zayed Bin Sultan Al Nahyan, and “enhancing national identity.” Other pages state that the archives aims to enhance civic spirit. One individual working there even did public relations for Dubai’s Crown Prince. This goes beyond the archives’ objective to preserve the country’s history, duties, and agreements/partnerships/memberships in various international organizations. The institution’s approach appears to be very nationalistic. It is reinforced in part by having the National Records & Archives Authority, which focuses on preserving the “antique history” of Oman in an effort to “build a brighter future,” as an exhibitor and even more by having theAbu Dhabi Convention and Exhibition Bureau as a conference sponsor. The latter is an issue primarily because the Bureau aims to champion the Abu Dhabi Emirate, one of the country’s seven emirates (all are in a constitutional federation), as a “dynamic global business events leader.” [4]
Surely, like the IFLA’s executives, some from ICA will defend this location choice. They may point to exhibitors such as non-profits like Al Ghadeer Emirati Crafts, or companies like Rookie Ninja, Phase One Photo, Clarivate, and Artefactual. They might point out that the Emirates News Agency is wholeheartedly supporting the conference, note that participants would join a “global community of archivists and industry professionals,” or note that you can visit interesting local sites (there is even a special program for one’s spouse or partner). These executives could says the country as tourist-friendly and “world-renowned for its social and modern environment.” They might declare that the conference can be a great business opportunity to reach a global audience, point to the expansive program with many topics and sessions, the conference’s sub-themes, or other features.
All of this ignores the fact that FamilySearch, a genealogical arm of the Mormons, uses prison labor to index records, as I’ve previously written about on this blog is a sponsor. Xerox, EXPM, Artefactual, NVSSoft, Zeutschel, and Nirvana Travel and Tourism are sponsors as well. Also, former French President Francois Hollande is a keynote speaker. [5] On the one hand, he supported the legalization of same-sex marriage and adoption for LGBTQ+ couples, which passed the French National Assembly in 2013. On the other, hestrongly supported the U.S.-backed Saudi-led military campaign in Yemen, which began in March 2015, and militarily intervened in a former French colony, Mali, from January 2013 to July 2014, obstinately to fight Islamic extremism, but also to protect “French interests” in the country, with a continued French military operation until November 2022. [6]
This conference is nothing to look forward to (as Preservica declared), praise, be grateful for, or treat it like just another conference, which was decided upon by the ICA sometime before November 2022. Is it possible to experience “Arabian hospitality” or “discover new horizons” in a country hosting this “cultural heritage” event which is strongly supported by UAE Deputy Prime Minister Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed al Nahyan? [7] This conference is clearly positioned to promote the UAE, whitewashing its problematic elements. The U.S. State Department’s latest human rights report, not an unbiased source by any measure, on the country, cites “credible reports” of arbitrary detention and arrest, privacy invasions, media and free expression restrictions, internet freedom limits, unfair and unfree elections, curtailed political participation, criminalization of same-sex consensual actions between adults, and prohibition on independent trade unions. This conference will, without a doubt, boost the country’s role as a regional “trade and investment hub,” support the country’s desire to attract additional foreign direct investment, and push to shift the country’s economy to a so-called “knowledge economy” in the next ten years. [8]
This screenshot from a video on the official YouTube channel for the conference (mostly has Arabic-language videos), from February 2020, shows that planning for the conference there began at that time, if not earlier than that.
Ultimately, the ICA is shilling for the government of UAE. Its assessment of the UAE is no better than the country’s self-submitted Universal Periodic Review reports to the U.N. Human Rights Council. The official site for the conference boasts that the UAE is “ideal tourist destination,” declares that women have equal rights to men, and calls for modest dressing, especially in religious areas, and recommends visitors respect the “Muslim values of the local community.” While some of this makes sense, the description misrepresents the UAE as a rosy place. It boggles the mind that any of the other 21 Arab states, or any other states in Asia, Oceania, Middle East, Sub-Saharan Africa, or North Africa, were not chosen as a conference location instead. [9]
There is only one response to this decision by the ICA: to boycott the conference in Abu Dhabi and encourage sponsors, like Preservica, to pull out. This call is not Arabphobic, Islamophobic, nor does it engage in what some call “homonationalism“. Many governments in the Middle East have laws infringing upon LGBTQ+ rights, either due to religious conservative governments and/or holdover laws from colonial control. In the case of the UAE, although it was under British control between 1820 to 1971, the Arab rulers were nominally independent. They could “keep the peace,” with arbitration of disputes through the British, to abstain from relations with other European countries, while the British committed to providing the rulers, and their governments, with protection against any “unprovoked foreign aggression,” but did not interfere within the countries. This ended when the United Arab Emirates was formed in December 1971, ending the unofficial British colonies in the Persian Gulf region. [10]
As such, the homophobic laws of the UAE do not have roots in colonialism, but in the country’s legislative history. They include capital punishment for male-male and female-female sexual intercourse, punishments for sex “outside marriage” and cross-dressing, while gender reassignment surgery appears to be illegal (or hard to obtain). This “conservative” and regional hub for tourism reportedly allows lesbian or gay relationships under decriminalization of cohabitation by unmarried couples, in 2021. It is not known whether this is enforced evenly or if such relationships are socially accepted by residents. Previously, it has been reported that the country’s authorities investigated a children’s magazine which depicted a “multi-coloured character” with claims that it promoted homosexuality, resulting in its retraction. The UAE also refused to air Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (possibly because some saw Gwen Stacy as trans) in the country or films like Lightyear (for a kiss between lesbian characters). [11]
Even Arab countries like Bahrain, Djibouti, Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria have better legal strictures toward queer people than UAE, even though they still are restrictive. The conference’s current location in Abu Dhabi runs afoul of the ICA’s own mission stating that archives are fundamental to “identity, democracy, accountability and good governance.” How is accountability and democracy possible when the conference is a vehicle for the country’s government to promote its interests? Will any criticism of the government be allowed? Or will it be discouraged to not annoy and anger the government? Will any topics about LGBTQ+ sessions be allowed? The IFLA said that the latter was not possible and admitted that homosexuality is not recognized by the UAE constitution “and therefore illegal.” [12] A well thought-out thread on X/Twitter by Naomi House opposing the location of the IFLA’s conference in Dubai argued that conferences need to be inclusive (already in-person conferences exclude many in the library field from participating) of all members, stated that this location has laws endangering many with “encoded legal bigotry,” and called for online conferences which are safe for all groups and members. The same logic can be applied to this ICA conference.
Considering that the ICA has invested time, and money, into this conference, its sponsors, and location, it is extremely unlikely it will be reversed. The fact that the conference is in the UAE is indicative that the values of the ICA do not matter when money, prestige, and influence win out over common sense. Whether “true universality and inclusiveness” can exist isn’t the issue, but rather that sets a bad precedent that only countries like the UAE “can afford to host.” It may hint at “institutional homophobia” of the ICA, and a stance against inclusion and diversity, all of which was said in opposition to the IFLA’s decision. Those in favor of this choice will declare that it will foster community spirit between archivists across the world, claim it will be “unforgettable,” joyful, or even say that the conference will enrich the “UAE’s society and the fields of documentation and archiving.” [13] Having the conference in the UAE will weaken any (likely underground) efforts, by those on the ground, to improve lives for LGBTQ+ people within the country, by legitimizing the country’s laws, hurting any possibility of change.
Some months ago, a LinkedIn message from Sara, the Marketing Director for the conference, strangely extended a special invitation through a LinkedIn message to the National Security Archive (NSA), even though I’m not a manager there. She declared that NSA has widely recognized expertise, advancing historical research, and promoting transparency. She tried to convince me by saying that discussions at the conference would be enriched by NSA’s participation, claiming that the event would be influential, exceptional, and highly anticipated, and make history as taking place in the “Middle East for the first time ever.” [14] This marketing effort could be why a search for the words “ica abu dhabi” is dominated by tweets from the official account on X/Twitter for the conference, and very few responses from anyone else. Recent tweets make this clear. One tweet only a couple days ago from Piql claiming that the conference will be the “world’s biggest archiving event.”
All these arguments ignore the unsustainable nature of the UAE. A supermajority of the country’s energy comes from petroleum, coal, and natural gas, and only a small sliver coming from solar, wind, and biofuels, according to the International Energy Agency. The Energy Information Administration, part of the U.S. Department of Energy, adds that the country is energy-intensive since it is one of the largest petroleum producers in the world. Their assessment states that the UAE economy is fueled largely by “natural gas…petroleum and other liquids.” Hosting the conference in the UAE stands against at least four of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals, [15] which the IFLA claimed they followed. It is also why some have argued that the hosting of the 2023 United Nations Climate Change Conference (also known as COP-28) in the UAE from November 30 to December 12 of this year is a form of greenwashing. The country hired PR companies to promote itself as the COP-28 head, pay users to clean the Wikipedia page of the COP-28 president (Sultan Al Jaber), run promotional campaigns on social platforms, polish its “green credentials,” and preparation of a list covering “touchy and sensitive issues”. [16]
Those supporting Abu Dhabi as the conference location may echo arguments of library associations in Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, UAE, and elsewhere in the region which supported Dubai as the IFLA conference location. They supported the decision as a positive opportunity for Arab librarians and libraries, and for other reasons. As such, it makes sense there is positive sentiment by those individuals and groups toward this conference. Furthermore, there is value in standing against “historical biases towards Western countries” when choosing conference locations. [17] However, hosting the conference in the UAE makes it unlikely there would be open exchange of ideas, especially due to human rights violations, including about migrant workers and other individuals, within the country. In addition, the choice of Abu Dhabi by the ICA and Dubai by the IFLA stands against established principles of each organization. Both serve as promotional opportunities for the UAE. They whitewash the country’s reality.
The conference’s location in the UAE is interlinked with discussions about colonialism, Western imposition of values onto other parts of the world, and racism, at minimum. While archivists obviously cannot address this in one fell swoop, there is something that can be done at the present: boycotting both conferences. This should be accompanied with advocacy for a safer and more inclusive virtual/online conference. It could avoid librarians, or archivists, fighting among one other over a conference location, where nationalism comes to the fore, especially the case with the division between those opposing or supporting the IFLA conference’s location. Archivists should express these views on social media and directly to the ICA and IFLA management.
Dr Abdulla Alraisi (left), Cultural Adviser of the UAE Presidential Court and Board of Directors member and Member of the Executive Committee of the UAE National Library and Archives, and ICA President, David Fricker (right), virtually signing a memorandum for understanding for the ICA conference in July 2022. On the same webpage it is stated that the conference was rescheduled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. It also claimed that the conference will have a “positive financial result for ICA’s ongoing programmes” and would provide “much-needed” financial resources for the ICA. Apart from the issue of the ICA depending on UAE oil money, one question comes to my mind from this screenshot: this signing could be virtual, why couldn’t the whole conference?
[9] “Results of the WLIC 2024 Advisory Referendum and Volunteer Survey,” IFLA, accessed Aug. 16, 2023; “Universal Periodic Review – United Arab Emirates,” U.N. Human Rights Council, accessed Aug. 16, 2023; “Travel Information,” ICA Congress Abu Dhabi 2023, accessed Aug. 15, 2023. As I noted back in April, late Lebanese-American scholar and journalist Jack G. Shaheen in one of his seminal works, Reel Bad Arabs, defines Arabs as the hundreds of millions of people who reside in, and the millions around the world in the diaspora, from 22 Arab states: Algeria, Bahrain, Chad, Comoros, Djibouti, Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Libya, Mauritania, Morocco, Oman, Palestine, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Tunisia, United Arab Emirates, and Yemen. One of the problems with the IFLA survey is that it does not say WHY people in regions defined as “Asia-Oceania,” “Middle East and North Africa,” and “Sub-Saharan Africa” supported Dubai as the conference location.
[12] “WLIC 2024: Briefing Paper to the Advisory Referendum,” IFLA, Jul. 2023. The same document noted that the IFLA previously chose Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, a city in “a country with restrictive policies on same-sex sexual acts,” but they went through with it anyhow. They also admitted that “many LGBTQ+ potential delegates may feel unsafe or anxious” as a result of the conference location in UAE, answering the concern of one user, among others like here.
[14] I never responded to her message, as it appeared to be spam, and may send her a message back after publishing this article.
[15] Specifically the goals “Affordable and Clean Energy”, “Decent Work and Economic Growth”, “Sustainable Cities and Communities”, “Responsible Consumption and Production”, and possibly “Climate Action”, with stated UN action toward these goals and others. The UAE claims that they are committed to ” achieve sustainable development…sustainable governance…[and] adopting consumption and production methods that enhance the quality of life of the present and future generations,” but alternate energies are not even listed on the page.
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. Today’s post comes from Burkely Hermann, Metadata Librarian for the National Security Archive and current I&A Blog Coordinator. There will be spoilers for RWBY Season 2.
A Schnee Dust Company representative warns Weiss Schnee that there are “sensitive documents” on the list of files Weiss requested in a season 2 episode of RWBY
Recently, I was rewatching the young adult animated series, RWBY, and forgot that there is an episode including a scene where one of the protagonists, Weiss Schnee, a daughter of an unscrupulous company executive, requests files from her parent’s company, the Schnee Dust Company (SDC). In the season two episode, “A Minor Hiccup”, Weiss uses a computer terminal, which she accesses at a CCT (Cross Continental Transmit System) Tower, a prominent part of Beacon Academy, using her scroll on the elevator to access the upper level, Once there, she is helped by a communications operator, who patches her through to the SDC. Once at a terminal, she is greeted by the SDC employee who looks at her file list and states that some of records are sensitive. Weiss responds that she will treat the records “with care”, and without even a second question, her request is fulfilled. [1] The records are later used in an effort to figure out more of what the “low-level” villain, Roman Torchwick, is doing. The claim by Weiss about the sensitive records relates to a recent interview with lawyer James Trusty.
Trusty defended his well-known client, the former president, stating there were no classified documents at Mar-a-Lago, and implied that not turning over documents was “not a crime”. He then claimed his client was being politically targeted, declared that the Presidential Records Act is a “non-criminal statute”, and said civil litigation is the answer instead, among other statements. The comments by Trusty on national television and those by Weiss in RWBY relate to what I’ve written about before in regards to how classification works within NARA (National Archives and Records Administration), British Public Record Office, South African State Archives Service, National Archives of Korea, United Nations, and other U.S. government organs and non-U.S. institutions. The aforementioned comments by Weiss and Trusty connect to the reality of document classification within archives, which remains an important issue considering a recent U.S. Senate hearing on over-classification, with calls for “original classifiers to assign sunsets at the front end,” i.e. dates at which classification would expire automatically, along with other changes, as the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) system remains thoroughly broken.
This is not a new issue, are classified records inherent to U.S. government institutions in many ways. For years, U.S. government agencies have been writing declassified institutional histories based upon the “still classified records of the services”, including about U.S. foreign relations. This is coupled with continuing complexities of record classification, leading to issues with obtaining access to “security-restricted records”. However, it can be bypassed thanks to sympathetic archivists or with the proper procedures in place. There have been cases in which classified records have been destroyed reportedly to “protect” operational security of U.S. military actions, even though the records should have been preserved. [2] This makes it clear that archives are not neutral, but are contested spaces instead, which is obvious for libraries, galleries, museums, and other institutions, but is also the case for archives.
There have been efforts to keep classified records intact and store them correctly. This has especially been the case after 1972 when the Archivist of the United States (AOTUS) became the center of government-widepolicy-making in terms of research with classifiedrecords. Many years before, in March 1946, a National Archives appraiser, Philip C. Brooks, was worried about accepting “highly classified” records from the State Department about the Office of Strategic Services, due to the unknown size of the records being transferred, and had questions about record organization, issue of eventual declassification, and how these records would affect other transfers. Apart from the above-mentioned historical example, there have been instances in which researchers were denied from using classified records. On the contrary, declassification has been said to open up information for “intensive private historical research”. Some records at the U.S. state-level have also been classified, causing those in charge of the records to become declassifiers. [3]
In the past, the Pentagon had a room aside for storing classified records when agencies were reportedly under “extreme space pressures” as a result of World War II. This reality has only been reinforced by ever-present institutional resistance toward declassifying records for scholarly research due to a directive-of-sorts which instructs archivists to “guard” the security of classified records no matter what. This can involve classification for political purposes. [4] There have been evolving challenges from records classification and secrecy, archivists have opened older classified case files for historians, and declassification has become an important duty for NARA, especially since the 1970s. Further scholarship has focused on movement of classified materials, reviews of classified records by NARA, and continued pushes to declassify additional records. [5]
Recently, some have tried to differentiate between the different cases involving classified records involving the former president and President Biden, with Sharon L. Lynch of Reuters writing that neither president “should have had any classified material in their possession” and that such records should be in the “legal custody of the U.S. National Archives.” Lynch added that it is illegal to willfully or knowingly retain or remove classified material, and stated that failing to properly secure and store such material “poses risks to national security if it should fall into the wrong hands.” This has been so egregious in the case of the former president that one of his defense attorneys said the president used a folder with a classified marking to “block a light in his bedroom that kept him up at night”. The former president has further declared that he has the “right” to go through classified records which should have been handed over to NARA. In light of these recent scandals, some have called for NARA to adapt its protocols “around the handling of all classified documents” to prevent future scandals. [6]
All the while, there have been a defense of existing rules at the agency to safeguard records in opposition to those who state that there are too many rules, claims of “political bias”, questions about what NARA “knew” (or didn’t know) about classified records found at the office of the Penn-Biden Center, and laughable comments that such records were safer at Mar-a-Lago than at NARA. Others have praised the agency for its new agreement with the George W. Bush Foundation on a proposal to privatize the presidential library for George W. Bush by “transferring certain operations from NARA to the Bush Foundation” or called for a “revamping” at how the agency collects information, particularly classified information is Top Secret or Secret. [7] There have been broader comments about how it is fairly common to misplace classified documents (and “classified spillage” of documents outside “protected places”), and mentions of secure areas to view documents, known as SCIFs or Sensitive Compartmented Information Facilities. Other articles have stated that many public officials have shared classified papers over the years, with some rightly questioning whether too many documents are being classified, or saying that the existing classification system is “clunky”. [8]
This is important to note because archivists, especially those at NARA, have a key role when it comes to declassification. Former AOTUS David Ferriero said the agency has a leadership role in ensuring that millions of classified records are “declassified and made available for the people to inspect and for historians to mine”. Archivists are like Weiss in that they are dedicated to treat classified documents “with care”, but their access to the records is not based on family relation. When it comes to classified documents, archivists become guards. People cannot copy documents held by NARA “with uncancelled security classification markings” and there are specific procedures for copying formerly national security-classified documents.
Classified records need to be more readily available to the public through more-common (or even mass) declassification, something which requires archivists to maintain their roles as declassifiers. More public availability of records will clash with the impossible institutional push to remain “neutral”, as the institutions are contested instead of “neutral”. In any case, archivists are vital since the amount of records, especially classified records from government agencies, flowing into institutions like NARA is bound to increase in years to come.
Notes
[1] The person she talks with tells her that she can talk to her sister Winter or her father but she says that she doesn’t want to, and her smile almost becomes a frown, implying a bad/fraught relationship.
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. Today’s post comes from Burkely Hermann, Metadata Librarian for the National Security Archive and current I&A Blog Coordinator. There will be spoilers for each of the books, animated series, films, and other media he will be discussing.
High-level overview of National Declassification Center processes, as shown in a post on the NDC blog in 2019
Previously on this blog, Rachel Mattson examined whether police body camera footage is public record or is classified, arguing that it should be a public record. Other blogposts on this blog have examined whether the Senate Intelligence Committee Report on Torture is a Federal or Congressional Record, noted selective declassification by the French government, which declassified over 200,000 records about Vichy government’s collaboration with the Nazis but none about France’s occupation of Algeria, and noted the tendency of politicians to avoid documenting their activities and stonewall FOIA requests.
In January 2022, the Director of National Intelligence April Haines argued, in a letter to U.S. Senators Ron Wyden and Jerry Moran that there are “deficiencies” in the current declassification system, and notes the burden of mandatory declassification requirements while the amount of classified material expands. My colleague from National Security Archive, Lauren Harper, noted that Haines, many months later, said that overclassification is a national security threat. Some of these classified records are in the hands of the National Archives, otherwise known as the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), organized into Top Secret, Secret, and Confidential. Other records are deemed unclassified if they do not meet the existing requirements for classification.
Classification of records in the U.S. has often been outlined in presidential executive orders, beginning with President Truman in 1951. National security generally described as the primary reason for classification. Over the years, rules changed and the role of NARA increased. This has even resulted in a part of the agency dedicated to declassification, the National Declassification Center (NDC), which was established in 2009, in accordance with Executive Order 13526. This went beyond the agency’s representation on the Interagency Security Classification Appeals Panel (ISCAP), or the Information Security Oversight Office (ISOO), which oversees the security classification programs in “both Government and industry“, and reports to the President annually. The ISOO, role on ISCAP, and NDC, most recently, have given NARA an important position in the entire classified information management process. [1]
Unsurprisingly, NARA has been in the public focus, especially for storing presidential records from the Obama Administration, and afterward. Some politicians have claimed the agency is an “enemy” and have wanted to dismantle it because of NARA’s push to return classified records to the public, rather than having the records stored in shoddy locations or controlled by presidents as their personal property. [2] This makes reports, in past years, like in May 2012, that boxes of classified government records disappeared from Washington National Records Center all the more concerning, as it could be representative of a larger trend.
Currently, there are measures in place for declassification of government records, either enshrined in executive orders or provisions of the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). However, the FOIA system is currently flawed, especially with existence of various exemptions which can be used to redact documents or reject records requests. [3] There are similar issues with Mandatory Declassification Review (MDR) requests. As one government report put it, storage of classified materials is “widespread” across the U.S. government, with NARA storing records from all agencies at central facilities. Even so, some have argued that politicians have neglected the National Archives and failed to “control official secrecy”, belaying assumptions about government transparency, and resulting in the crisis which will make it harder for researchers to examine the “state’s inner workings”. Recent developments, such as a drop in the annual budget of NARA, attrition, and loss of institutional memory have resulted in the agency having one of the lowest levels of job satisfaction in the federal government. All the while, funding for declassification has decreased and backlogs for declassification have increased. [4]
NARA is not the only archives which handles and processes classified records. There are established procedures for classification of records held by the New South Wales Archives in Australia, British Public Record Office, Taiwanese government, Israeli Defense Force, State Archives of Poland, National Archives of Brazil, South African State Archives Service (later renamed National Archives and Records Service), National Archives of Korea, and National Archives of France. Even the archives of the United Nations has a classification level of Strictly Confidential, necessitating declassification requests, while archival materials over 20 years old are “generally open to the public for research”. [5]
As Electronic Records Archivist Amy Wickner argued, archivists have the “power to name and classify,” a power which has “material effects on theworld“. This power can be used to make records more accessible or to make them harder to access. The latter is the case if access is only “granted or refusedon anindividual basis“. At times, more restrictions are imposed because of compliance with professional standards or data within in a record rather than the document itself. This includes including personal data. On the other hand, records which should be publicly available, like agreements between carceral facilities and FamilySearch for indexing of historical records, have a possibility of redaction, despite the lack of personal or sensitive information. [6]
In the episode “The Underground Tennis Tournament: The Campbelldon”, Loid examines a file of his target, a man named Cavi Campbell, who has a painting in the basement of his mansion. As the story goes, the painting was originally owned by a general who had compiled a dossier of explosive top secret information which could tip the scales and cause possible cause military conflict if revealed, and the painting has a code revealing the dossier’s location.
Classified records have often been depicted in popular culture. For instance, there is an episode of The Crown about classified records showing Duke Edward VIII collaborating with Nazis. Such records are also major part of the Spy x Family series. The protagonist, Twilight (voiced by Takuya Eguchi), poses as a father named Loid Forger, with a wife and child. He is tasked with a secret mission to keep two countries from beginning a war. As a result, he is often passed information through a network of informants, spies, and others, or is given mission briefings by dedicated agents. The information he receives often includes classified records. Another pertinent example is the 13-episode anime, Gargantia on the Verdurous Planet. In one episode, “Deep Sea Secret”, the protagonist, Ledo (voiced by Kaito Ishikawa), demands declassification of the record. What he learns causes an epiphany. It results in him questioning what he thought about the world and his life’s purpose, causing a mental breakdown of sorts.
There are other examples, apart from the tongue-and-cheek U.S. Navy recording studio named “Classified Records” in The Simpsons, which included subliminal messages in their songs which encouraged people to join the Navy. For instance, classified archives of the CIA are shown in an episode of the TV series, Alias. Furthermore, classified, and restricted, records are a major part of the animated adventure series, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, which has many archivy themes. In one episode, Mara, the previous She-Ra, learns that the Heart of Etheria project is classified, with Light Hope worrying about information being accidentally shared with Madame Razz. In many others, records are only accessible when specific words are spoken, or specific people are detected by computer systems. The same could be said about the records inside the data archives of the World Organization Of Human Protection which is shown in the Totally Spies! episode “The Yuck Factor”, or the “healing center” for Pearls known as The Reef, which is a structure used to create, repair, or modify Pearls, shown in the Steven Universe Future episode “Volleyball”. Both undoubtedly contain restricted or classified records.
In Star Wars Rebels and Star Wars: The Clone Wars, two animated series, there are records which can only be accessed through magic or other means. As such, they are classified, as a result. Accessing secret, and classified, records is a major plot point for live-action films such as Sneakers (1992), The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (2005), and My Fellow Americans (1996). In other cases, like in Joker (2009), the records are even stolen. In the latter film, the records clerk is implied as an impediment to protagonist Arthur Fleck, as are the bureaucratic requirements which require a signature from Fleck’s mother, before he can take the file.
Samantha “Sam” Cross, a certified archivist who was part of the SAA Issues & Advocacy News Monitoring Team in 2018, has highlighted this on her blog, Pop Archives. She notes Carol Danvers (later becoming Captain Marvel) examining likely classified information in Captain Marveland Loki trying to use his manipulation and charm in the Loki TV series to get classified files from a female character credited as an archivist. She also writes about a character in the Danganronpa game, Byakuya, who “read and study the classified information” in an archives-like room and states that many of the documents shown in Federal Bureau of Control, in the video game Control, are redacted, and classified. [7]
Other pop cultural critics in the library and information field note other examples. For instance, librarian Jennifer Snoek-Brown, known as the creator of the site Reel Librarians and real-life librarian at Tacoma Community College, noted classified records featured in Rollerball (1975), Soylent Green (1973), and likely ones in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011). [8] Elsewhere on her blog, she pointed out similar themes in Mercury Rising (1998) and WarGames (1983).
The over twenty popular culture examples described in this post only scratch the surface. There are as undoubtedly many more films, comics, and series which featured classified or restricted records. The examples noted in this article do not always feature archives, however, as some creators confuse archives with libraries. To add insult to injury, archivists are often not present, resulting in the characters, who have no archival training, to go through the records themselves. Very few depictions in popular culture reflect the current reality of classified records within archives. Hopefully, this changes in the future.
[4] “Appendix V: Central Storage, Declassification and Destruction” in Classified Information: Costs of Protection are Integrated with Other Security Costs: Report to the Chairman, Information, Justice, Transportation, and Agriculture Subcommittee, Committee on Government Operations, House of Representatives (United States General Accounting Office, 1993), 26; Connelly, Matthew. “State Secrecy, Archival Negligence, and the End of History as We Know It.” Knight First Amendment Institute, Sept. 21, 2018. The latter article also says that state secrecy and state archiving began at the same time, around the establishment of NARA and into World War II.
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. Today’s post comes from Burkely Hermann, Metadata Librarian for the National Security Archive and current I&A Blog Coordinator. There will be spoilers for each of the books, animated series, films, and other media he will be discussing.
This organizational chart of the National Archives and Records Administration is an example of an archival bureaucracy
Large government, corporate, and private archives are bureaucratic. Even though the so-called Information Revolution threatened to upend existing practices within archival bureaucracies, and structures of these institutions, new records management strategies developed, in Europe and U.S., which are as hierarchical as previous methods. [1] Bureaucracy remains firmly entrenched, in language, practices, and strategies of collecting institutions, whether the National Archives or Library of Congress. In this post, I’ll discuss the role of bureaucracies in archival institutions and connect my findings to fictional depictions.
Recordkeeping often lends itself to bureaucracy, whether in non-profit organizations, corporations, or governments. Sometimes practices change and reinforce the bureaucracy of these institutions. This can include discouraging creation of “rich narrative reports”, while supporting archival classification and arrangement as an “infrastructural tool”. Furthermore, some bureaucracies are repressive, affecting restitution of captured wartime records. [2]
Unsurprisingly, culture of documentation has changed from being transactional to bureaucratic as organizationally sophisticated bureaucracies first developed in the 19th century. Scholar Francis Blouin called for new principles about diplomatics, referring to study of form, creation, and transmission of records, and their relation to facts within them, and their creators, to order to “identify, evaluate, and communicate their nature and authenticity.” [3] Blouin argued that bureaucratic culture produces transactional and literary records, systematic recordkeeping, analytic records, and records created in respect to “sovereignty of people in democratic societies”. In Blouin’s view, in such societies, public accountability necessitates “particular forms and genres of recordkeeping.” [4]
Other scholars have noted growing complexity, changing nature, and interrelatedness of government bureaucracies. Recently there has been a tendency to “free up” bureaucracy while encouraging entrepreneurship and risk-taking. The latter undermines archival missions. [5] Modern bureaucracies have defined existing file systems, even as archivists and historians are presented with many challenges. This includes influence on archival theory, especially by Weberian bureaucratic thinking, and controlling access to records. This was even the case in Eastern Europe, with political shifts in latter years of the Cold War caused archival access procedures to change. [6]
Modern bureaucracies have produced a “sheer mass of records”. In the past, this caused archivists to use sampling in order to determine “research potential” of records and appraise them. Even so, archivists continued to experience frustrations when “dealing with” bureaucracy, while being a part of complex bureaucratic structures, which can include competing groups. [7] More recently, there has been discussion of how various technologies can change bureaucratic processes, including in the United Nations and Vatican. Other scholars have asked whether the role of archives in the life-cycle of government records is a way of “holding democratic governments accountable”. The latter is the case in Germany, which has a strict division between records management and archival functions, with records remaining in custody of government bureaucracies. [8]
Fictional depictions of bureaucracies reflect some of these realities. One of the best known examples are the Vogans in Douglas Adams’ TheHitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, who destroy Earth because the planet is in the way of a hyperspace freeway. They are the embodiment of bureaucrats. The Vogans are inefficient, with absurdly lengthy official processes, and their continued efforts to thwart “any real progress in the galaxy.” Adams’ makes clear a metaphor: the house of protagonist Arthur Dent will be destroyed by an uncaring (and extremist) bureaucracy, just as the Vogans are doing to the planet. [9] Archives are not directly shown, but characters in the 2005 film view a restricted archival record from the Magrathean Public Archive. The record cuts off before revealing the name of a supercomputer, with a message stating that information has been deleted, as I noted in my post on the Issues & Advocacy blog back in December.
While bureaucracies are famously criticized in novels like Catch-22 and The Trial, they are a major part of other media, like the acclaimed animated series, Futurama. In the series, Hermes Conrad (voiced by Phil LaMarr), is a bureaucrat who works for the Central Bureaucracy, which manages legal, financial, and business matters in the city of New New York. In one episode, “Lethal Inspection”, a physical file archive is shown, with Hermes taking a folder out of a file cabinet. It is later revealed that he was the inspector who approved a defective robot named Bender (voiced by John DiMaggio), after be burns the file.
Brad Houston, a Document Services Manager for the city of Milwaukee, said the physical file archive is really a records center because it has semi-active records. He described how the Milwaukee records center works, noting the importance of filling out transfer forms correctly, pointing out that records are organized by box with specific assigned numbers, and importance of records management training. As another archivist put it, information and records management is as much about understanding bureaucratic processes and human behavior as it is about the records and information.
While there are many other examples of fictional bureaucracies, [10] one specifically comes to mind: the Elven bureauacracy in the children’s adventure and supernatural comedy-drama animated series, Hilda. An elf named Alfur (voiced by Rasmus Hardiker) is a series protagonist. Like the other elves in the series, they can only be seen if their tiny paperwork is signed and filled out. In the first episode, the protagonist, Hilda (voiced by Bella Ramsey), tries to come to peace with the elves, who see her as a menace because she stepped through their houses for years without realizing it. In the process, she goes through various Elven political officials who declare there is nothing that can be done and that the matter is out of their hands.
As the series continues, Alfur becomes a correspondent in the city of Trolberg, and files reports about his daily activities in the city, where Hilda is now living. Characters such as Frida (voiced by Ameerah Falzon-Ojo) and Deputy Gerda (voiced by Lucy Montgomery) are shown to care about the paperwork as much as him, as does the witchy librarian named Kaisa (voiced by Kaisa Hammarlund). In other episodes, Alfur proudly tells a legendary Elf story about a fight over a real estate contract, he meets a society which doesn’t use paperwork, and emphasizes the importance of reading the fine print. The series also features elf-mail, known as “email”, which is sent from the countryside into the city with various couriers, Alfur saying that elves pride themselves on the accuracy of historical records, and impressed by how Hilda is able to use loopholes. In the next to last episode of the show’s second season, Alfur is able to convince an elf sent as his replacement to write an eyewitness confirmation form, confirming that his reports from Trolberg, said to be “the most requested from the official archive”, are accurate and true.
Hilda, emphasizes importance of accountability within hierarchies more than fictional bureaucracies shown in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and Futurama. Alfur is graded on a performance management system and experiences some level of bureaucratic accountability. The latter is achieved, within institutions, through strategies, administrative rules, budget reviews, and performance management. It can also be accompanied by citizen accountability, which attempts to hold government administrators accountable through forums and laws, using communication technologies to directly access bureaucratic information, monitor government activities, and give feedback on delivery of public services. However, Futurama and Hilda make clear the value of records managers (and archivists) who have developed strategies and experience with relationship-building and negotiating bureaucratic politics.
Many archives, these days, are not “faceless” or “nameless” as those in fiction, nor do they encourage falsification of information to protect individuals. Instead, some likely came into existence during the Progressive Era to “lessen anxiety” about issues such as race. While some bureaucratic records, within archives, may be considered “cold”, there have been efforts to humanize the files, especially those about human atrocities. Even so, some archivists remain impatient with “inanities” of bureaucracies they are part of. [11]
Bureaucracy remains part and parcel of archives. There have been efforts, in recent years, to reduce bureaucracies said to be “overlapping” and related claims that government by bureaucracy is dead or no longer necessary. Despite this, committing information to paper, then managing, or shuffling, that paper within a bureaucracy remains a “source of an essential power.” After all, records have the power to legitimize bureaucracy, while promoting political hegemony and constructing social memory. In fact, in the 1985 film, Brazil, a controlling bureaucracy rules people’s lives and crushes spirits. [12] The film’s protagonist, Sam Lowry, has been described by some as an archivist who has “dreamlike moments” and sees himself as a winged superhero. He tries to tamper with data in order to save the woman he loves before his vision is shown to be an illusion.
While there won’t be any “bureaucratic cock-ups” or Vogan Constructor Fleets demolishing Earth to make way for a hyperspace expressway, [13] sophisticated and complex bureaucracy will remain an integral part of archives, whether we like it or not.
[10] The Wikipedia category “Bureaucracy in fiction” lists 50 entries, including Loki TV series, the anti-communist novel 1984, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and The Pale King.
[13] Adams, Douglas. “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” In The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide, 16, 25-26. New York: Gramercy Books, 2005. Vogans are also described, on page 38, as “one of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy…[not] evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous”.
Steering Shares are an opportunity to find out more about the I&A Steering Committee. This post comes courtesy of Steering Committee member, Burkely Hermann, National Security Archive.
Hello everyone! In today’s post I’d like to share a project that I’ve been working off-and-on since 2019, in my spare time, which relates to digitization, archival ethics, and access. Since then, I have been using MuckRock to request documents from county jails and state prisons about FamilySearch’s program to have inmates index public records, like censuses and military records, which are then used by genealogists and the general public. In order to put this project into context, I’d like to give some background to highlight why this project matters.
In February 2020, in my first article on the closure of the National Archives facility in the Seattle area, I noted that some U.S. legislators criticized the partnership between the National Archives and FamilySearch, who stated that this partnership, meant to digitize records, has not “resulted in actual access to records that have been prioritized by stakeholders.”
Currently, NARA’s webpage on digitized microfilm publications and original records states that digitization partners like Ancestry, Fold3 (owned by Ancestry), and FamilySearch “have digitized microfilm publications and original records from NARA’s holdings and made them available on their websites.” NARA has had a partnership with FamilySearch since 2005, with NARA describing them as having a “clear focus on records of interest to genealogists.” The current partnership agreement with FamilySearch will remain in effect until NARA or FamilySearch terminates it, which is unlikely.
All of this matters because FamilySearch, a division of the Mormon Church (LDS), is using inmates to index many of these public records. This means that the records you might be using on Ancestry, which FamilySearch shares records with, or on the latter site, have likely been indexed by inmates.
It is important to keep in mind that jails and prisons are not the same. Jails are run by counties or cities, housing those with short-term convictions or awaiting trial. Prisons are operated on the federal or state level, with inmates who have longer-term convictions.
I became interested in this topic after reading Shaun Bauer’s short article in Mother Jones in August 2015 entitled “Your Family’s Genealogical Records May Have Been Digitized by a Prisoner”. Unfortunately, Bauer never wrote a follow-up piece, and some genealogists, like assorted people on social media and Megan Smolenyak, more prominently, defended the indexing, claiming that a “few key aspects” were left out.
In contrast, Jarrett M. Drake, a Harvard University PhD candidate who focuses on “archival, educational, and organizing projects that pertain to prison abolition,” argued, in a 2020 book, Paths to Prison: On the Architectures of Carcerality, that the national and state governments that partner with FamilySearch certain “untold millions of dollars” by sharing their records for indexing and digitization, and argued that “millions of archival records have been made available by incarcerated labor.”
Although my research on this subject is still ongoing, there is clear evidence that sometime in the 1980s, LDS opened a Family History Center at Utah State Prison, followed by one at California’s Tehachapi State Prison in 1989. In February 2001, the Chicago Tribune acknowledged that the Freedman’s Bureau records, which are popular especially with Black genealogists, were collected and culled by 550 inmates at the South Point Correctional Facility at Utah State Prison.
Smolenyak’s interview with one of the indexers, Blaine Nelson, said that the indexing of the Freedman’s Bureau records took eleven years, 600 inmates, and “over 700,000 volunteer hours.” He declared proudly that, by February 2001, “some 480,000 Freedman’s Bank records had been extracted and indexed.” This means that one of the “richest databases for African-American research” as Ed Lunt, who helped establish the indexing program at the Utah State Prison in 1990 with his wife Penney, described it, was only possible due to the large amount of unpaid inmate labor.
The indexing did not end there. It has continued since then, with millions of names indexed by inmates, not only in Utah, but in other states, like Idaho and Arizona. Some even declared that this indexing means that prisoners are “working to strengthen everyone’s family tree.”
In 2021, Steve Collings, a product manager for the FamilySearch Correctional Services program, stated that LDS had “35 different facilities” with where inmates do indexing across the Mountain West, including Utah, Wyoming, and Arizona, with plans to expand nationwide, then worldwide. Whether the indexing provides “personal growth” to inmates as LDS claims, or not, LDS has been mostly tight-lipped in providing many details about the indexing and noting the exact locations where LDS has contracted prison indexing.
In my research, I’ve found that five jurisdictions in Utah currently have contracts with LDS to have inmates index records: Box Elder County, Cache County, Duchesne County, Kane County, and Summit County, as I note on the “Documents received” sheet within my “FamilySearch and prisons” spreadsheet. Sevier County presumably also has a contract, but I have not received documents from them. The most recent one I received, for Box Elder, shows that FamilySearch is all in on the inmate indexing as it was signed earlier this year by Stephen Valentine, who is the Senior Vice President of FamilySearch International!
From my requests I also learned that there are genealogy programs in Idaho prisons, but they reportedly have no policy related to the program. The same is the case for the Utah Department of Corrections. I also received redacted emails from the Washington Department of Corrections showing communications about Mormon volunteers coming to the state’s prison facilities. Otherwise, I learned that Beaver and Washington counties have volunteer programs but reportedly do not have records of that program.
In order to do these requests, I’ve been using MuckRock, which allows you to submit freedom of information requests to any governmental agency within their databases and keep all of the interactions public, or even private. Unfortunately, it has been somewhat costly to do this work, costing $5.00 per record request, making it hard for those without adequate financial resources to make these record requests and hopefully receive documents which can become public, even if they are heavily redacted. Where I work, the National Security Archive, has the same goal, but on a much larger scale, with various projects and experts on certain subject areas.
As I continue my research, with the impending end of requests to county jails in Utah, I’ll be trying to find out more about this program beyond Utah, to other states. I’ve done this a little with requests to counties in Wyoming, Arizona, Nevada, and other states such as Colorado and Arkansas. Although I’m not sure what I will learn about this indexing program going forward, and how widespread it is, I am confident that it will remain a learning experience which will inform people, particularly archivists and librarians, about those who index the public records which are used on a daily basis. Hopefully, it will also encourage a push for a larger NARA budget, so that more digitization of their records can be done in-house rather than contracted out to FamilySearch or for conditions be put on the next agreement to prohibit indexing by inmates.
Steering Shares are an opportunity to find out more about the I&A Steering Committee. This post comes courtesy of Steering Committee member, Burkely Hermann, National Security Archive, and current I&A Blog Coordinator. Other members currently on the I&A Steering Committee include Danielle Simpkins, Caitlin Rizzo, Sheridan Sayles, Liz Call, Holly Rose McGee, and Claire Gordon.
1) What was your first experience working with archives?
I first worked in an archives after graduating from college with my B.A. in Political Science and History, as a researcher at the Maryland State Archives for a project trying to track down the stories of Maryland Revolutionary War soldiers, called the “Finding the Maryland 400” project, having a flexible start and end time, often either working with a historian on staff or independently. While that job only lasted six months as the grant money from a non-profit ran out, it began my interest in archives, which was rekindled in later years when I started my MLIS degree and worked at NARA’s College Park location as a work study in my last semester.
While I was drawn toward genealogy when working at the Maryland State Archives, I remember digitizing documents, using a push cart to move heavy books from the stacks to my desk, the in-house system I used to input information, or the many databases I used day in and day out. On the other hand, there were mold remediation efforts during the end of my time there. Worst of all, however, was the public transit nightmare I endured to get to the archives. Every day, I went on a light rail train to the end of the line, then a caught bus down to the archives itself. One wrong transfer or traffic would cause delays either by minutes or by hours. One major lesson I learned from the whole experience was to work somewhere that is accessible through public transportation!
2) What is an archival issue that means a lot to you?
That is a hard question. I would say precarity in the archives profession is very important, as many of my jobs since graduating have been precarious, whether working at a grant-funded position at the Maryland State Archives, an unpaid internship for NARA, or a graduate assistantship at University of Maryland, where I earned my MLIS degree, focusing on Archives and Digital Curation. Connected to this are those trying to unionize archivists, have fair pay, and safe working conditions, among other efforts to help archival issues.
Currently, I work at a non-profit which relies on grant funding, so in that way, it is a bit of a precarious position, I suppose, as a loss of funding could lead, possibly, to cuts in wages and benefits. I am glad that archival precarity has received a lot of attention in recent years and I hope that it continues to be seen as important by those in the profession, including in the SAA. This seems by the case from what I can gather when filling out the A*Census II.
3) What do you hope to gain by being on the I&A Steering Committee?
I hope to connect with like-minded archivists who are concerned with various archival issues, such as reparative processing, redescription, institutional sustainability, institutional racism, and preserving social media posts. I’ll be using my perspective to positively contribute to the Issues & Advocacy Section (I&A) to continue existing advocacy and outreach efforts, including continuing to promote the value and importance of the archival profession.
4) What can we find you doing outside of the archival profession?
Well, read a lot of webcomics and watch a bunch of animated series. And I write reviews of shows and comics I read, some of which have archivists and librarians! Also, for fun, I write fiction and incorporate some archivists into some of my stories. I occasionally do family history research for both sides of my family and have some blogs about that as well. When I’m not doing all of that, and it’s good weather, I go on hikes and read books.
Steering Shares are an opportunity to find out more about the I&A Steering Committee. This post comes courtesy of the Steering Committee member, Caitlin Rozzo, Archivist at the Shelby White and Leon Levy Archives Center, Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University. Other members currently on the I&A Steering Committee include Danielle Simpkins, Burkely Hermann, Sheridan Sayles, Liz Call, Holly Rose McGee, and Claire Gordon.
What was your first experience working with archives? This is always a favorite question of mine! The first time I encountered the archive, I was a sophomore in college. In the spring, I decided to launch myself head first into a project that I was objective unqualified to perform and I applied for a summer job as a Research Assistant for a professor on campus, Dr. Marguerite Rippy. I spent what felt like a magical summer researching an all-black production of Macbeth that Orson Welles directed as part of his work with the Federal Theatre Project, which required me to go to places like the Library of Congress and National Archives and Records Association. I remember very distinctly my first ever trip to an archive was the Library of Congress. The day before I met with Dr. Rippy who told me very plainly that the goal for the first day was simply to get my research card and warned me that the first day of research you always feel very lost and a little like an idiot, so as long as I got the card I should celebrate my success. Fast forward to a very confused 19 year old wondering in the tunnels (I am not even sure how I got there) at 3:00 p.m. so desperate to leave and so terrified of asking for help that I followed a group of people with suitcases around for about ten minutes hoping somehow that suitcases signified an intent to leave a building. (Truly, who would drag around suitcases if they were just planning to Sorkin walk through the tunnel? This part of the story remains a mystery.) The good news is that an hour later, I did manage to find the exit and, utterly disoriented, make my way to the metro. I kept coming back and about a week later I made my first archival “discovery”—a little advertisement for the show in Texas where the black-cast was segregated from white production staff. Two years later, when I was searching for internships I applied to the Library of Congress Junior Fellowship program. I ended up staying there for three fabulous years (and, reader, I still wound up lost in those tunnels again and again, but seriously it remains very worth it.)
What is an archival issue that means a lot to you? This is difficult for me to answer because there are a lot of things that concern me in archives. I was incredibly fortunate to get my MLIS at the University of Maryland when Dr. Ricardo Punzalan was teaching there and I often repeat a phrase he would say that feels central to my engagement with and love of archives: “History is offensive. If it doesn’t offend you, then you might not be looking that closely.” He is such an amazing example of how a critical approach to a subject is born out of a great love for that subject and a belief in that subject’s value. This is a nice way to say that many things concern me, but that’s probably because I actively strive to be a person who is concerned and who is attentive to the struggles of others.
I would say if I had to pick one thing to talk about in this moment that issue would be divestment and prison abolition in archives and special collections. I am part of a wonderful group that meets regularly to talk about the ways the ideologies of the prison-industrial-complex pervade special collections and the ways that we benefit as a profession from prisons and prison labor. I recently have been working on a statement and thinking about how to phrase this for folks that might think that Special Collections exists in another universe from the systemic oppression of millions of the most vulnerable populations and communities around us. I think for me the idea that right now in the United States about 2.3 million people are desperately in need of evidence, of records, of proof to set themselves free should feel sinister to us as archivists. How does that word ‘evidence’ that sustains our positions (our jobs, our material wealth, and our freedom) condemn others? What do we have to do with that if we benefit from it? And truly how do two worlds seem at first so completely separate? I know of several librarians that work with incarcerated populations but very few archivists have anything to do with the incarcerated. Why is that? There are researchers, users, scholars (whatever you would like to call them that would connote to you their worthiness) who happen to be incarcerated. I have read their poetry, transcribed their letters, and maintained their work in the archive. I think we owe these individuals something better.
What do you hope to gain by being on the I&A Steering Committee? I hope to gain a sense of how advocacy can work in technical services. I’ve actually just started a new position that is a little more capacious, but previously all of my archival experience centered on technical or collection services. Most recently, I served as the Head of Collection Services for the Eberly Family Special Collections Library, but I often find that the work can sometimes feel unconnected from the conversations that seem the most interesting and necessary for the profession. I think largely that’s been changing with the incredible work of archivists that are tackling issues like redescription and reparative processing; however, I have found that it can be challenging to argue for advocacy in technical services. There is always the backlog, there is always software that need refinement or managing. I think of the words technical debt which always weigh heavy on your shoulders in technical services. Sometimes I think technical services gets too weighed down by those burdens of the “traditional” work of processing, description, and digitization to get to participate fully in these conversations, but the best professional development work I ever got to do was attend a Project STAND conference in Chicago and hear former Black Panthers speak to their experience with archives and activism. Those kinds of experiences feel vital and necessary to the work I do. The technology and the archival labor is not neutral. When you are so stuck trying to catch up with other institutions or new rules, it can feel really challenging to engage in what some people might cast as “value-added” work. The truth is that engaging critically with the issues and advocacy around the practice is foundational and necessary work for all of us. I firmly believe it cannot be additional or optional.
What can we find you doing outside of the archival profession? Well, lately my love of loafing and people watching has been cut short by the pandemic. I am at my core such a literature nerd, but somehow this also translates to a deep love for really “bad art.” I love bad poetry, strange/awkward one man shows, bad movies—I like seeing the things that don’t quite work out or materialize the way you thought they would. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the podcast “How Did This Get Made?” but I could listen to that endlessly. I also love podcasts from this moment deep in quarantine. The “Still Processing” podcast just came back and I could listen to the episode that breaks down the culture of public apologies a million times over. Other than that, I am generally playing around with one of my own failed crafting projects and loving on my furry family (one dog, two bunnies, and many unrealized plans for expansion of the pack).
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. The following is from Burkely Hermann, recent graduate of the University of Maryland – College Park’s graduate program in Library and Information Science, with a concentration in Archives and Digital Curation.
On February 16, John C. Coughenour, a Reagan-appointee and Senior Judge of the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Washington, blocked the sale of the National Archives facility at Seattle, one of the Federal Records Centers (FRC) in the U.S. with a preliminary injunction. This ended the movement of records from the facility to FRCs in Missouri and California, many of which are “un-digitized records.” He called the situation a “public relations disaster” of the Public Buildings Reform Board (PBRB), the entity which proposed the sale, and said that the PBRB had “a stunning lack of appreciation of the issues” of indigenous people. While the attorney generals of Washington State and Oregon applauded the decision, as did indigenous people, genealogists, U.S. Senator Maria Cantwell, and others, the fight is not over. The Stranger said that history “requires defending in the present,” The Cut argued that the fate of the Seattle FRC “remains undecided,” and MyNorthwest noted there is “more potential trouble” in the future if noting about the facility changes going forward. On February 18, local Seattle leaders and the governor of Oregon both wrote President Biden, calling on him to stop the sale of the facility. Even with the injunction, it is short-lived, meaning that the facility remains under threat. As such, it is important to once again, as I noted in February and November of last year, to explain the negative impact the closure of this facility will have on those in the Pacific Northwest and in the U.S. as a whole.
Over the past year, there have been legal efforts to delay the closure. Kim Wyman, the Secretary of State of Washington State, began meeting with the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) and other stakeholders, in hopes of brokering a solution to keep the archival materials, which document “history across the Pacific Northwest” in the state of Washington. At the same time, Washington Attorney General Bob Ferguson made filings in federal court, including the recent lawsuit which included almost 600 pages from indigenous peoples, individuals, and interested groups which attest to the value of the Seattle facility and materials which are held there. If the “nearly million” boxes of archival materials from the facility were moved to Missouri and California as planned, access to records about Asian American history would be made more difficult, as would records that relate to the “cultural preservation, history and treaty rights” of various indigenous nations in the Pacific Northwest. Moving the records to facilities in those states would make them less publicly accessible, destroying one of the “wellsprings” from which the “collective memory” of the region and nation is formed, as argued in the case in the amicus brief by the Korematsu Center. A recent successful lawsuit filed by Ferguson in early January, joined by 29 indigenous groups, and historic community and preservation groups, to stop the relocation and sale of the Seattle FRC, explains the problem succinctly:
“This action shows a callous disregard for the people who have the greatest interest in being able to access these profoundly important records…The facility contains the DNA of our region. It provides public access to permanent records created by Federal agencies and courts in Alaska, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington…the National Archives at Seattle is the only property among those the PBRB recommended for sale that has profound importance to the region in which it is situated and is regularly used by members of the public…These irreplaceable archives are primarily un-digitized and do not exist elsewhere.”
The closure of the facility would violate NARA’s own principles to preserve and provide access to U.S. records and document U.S. history, especially those documents essential to U.S. government actions, rights of U.S. citizens, and any other records which “provide information of value to citizens.” It also runs afoul of NARA’s commitment to drive “openness, cultivate public participation” and strengthen U.S. democracy through “public access to high-value government records.” That same commitment states that NARA will lead the “archival and information professions to ensure archives thrive in a digital world.” That seems unlikely since only about 1% of the NARA’s record holdings are digitized and even less than 1% of presidential library records have been put online.
Furthermore, moving the records from Seattle to the FRCs in California, whether in Riverside or in San Francisco, and St. Louis, Missouri, would disregard the core values of archivists outlined by the Society of American Archivists. These core values state that archivists have a duty to foster greater access and use to records, maintain records which allow “contemporary and future entities” to seek accountability, serve as responsible “stewards for primary sources,” and root their “ethics of care that prioritizes sustainable practices and policies” when it comes to archival duties. The “boxes of information” within the Seattle FRC, highlighted by one local Seattle reporter, Matthew Smith, would be made less accessible if the records were moved elsewhere in the country. If the Seattle FRC is closed, it will be a sad day for archives, records, and preservation of U.S., indigenous, and community history.
Although the closure of the Seattle FRC has been halted by Judge Coughenour, this is only a temporary measure. In the short-term, you could contact the management team of NARA, especially chief archivist David Ferriero (david.ferriero@nara.gov), deputy chief archivist Debra Steidel Wall (debra.wall@nara.gov), and Chief Operating Officer William J. Bosanko (william.bosanko@nara.gov), and the PBRB at fastainfo@pbrb.gov, to express your opposition to the closure, while calling on President Biden to follow the judge’s decision and keep the facility open. In the long term, NARA needs increased funding and you can use the information put together by the Archival Researchers Association to contact your members of Congress to push for legislation which would increase the agency’s budget.
Archivists on the Issues is a forum for archivists to discuss the issues we are facing today. The following is from Burkely Hermann, recent graduate of the University of Maryland – College Park’s graduate program in Library and Information Science, with a concentration in Archives and Digital Curation.
The NAS facility is key to many different communities. The official page for the facility specifically highlights information they hold about Chinese immigrants and indigenous affairs, along with land records, court records, and genealogical resources. This includes tribal and treaty records of indigenous people living in the Pacific Northwest, and original case files for Chinese immigrants in the 19th century. Volunteers have been trying to index the Chinese immigrant files and create an “extensive database of family history.” This will be interrupted if the files are moved, making the database incomplete.
The NAS facility itself has regional significance. The property the facility sits on was once the location of a prospering farm owned by Japanese immigrant Uyeji family from 1910 to 1942. [1] These immigrants were evicted from their land during World War II and put into concentration camps, like the over 120,000 Japanese Americans. The immigrant Uyeji family never returned to their home, and the land was seized by the U.S. Navy in 1945, after it had been condemned in earlier years, in order to build a warehouse. [2] The warehouse was later converted into a facility and began to be occupied by the National Archives after 1963. This transfer of ownership intersected with the history of Seattle’s development which benefited White people above those of other races, from 1923 onward.
There is more to be considered. As Llewellyn and Buchanan argue in the Journal of Western Archives, the closure of NAS is harmful, a failure at “multiple levels of government,” and was made without considering how valuable marginalized communities in the area see the records held at the facility. [3] 58,000 cubic feet are permanent records of federal agencies in the Pacific Northwest, while 6,600 cubic feet are occupied by records from the Bureau of Indian Affairs alone. [4] Neither should be destroyed per NARA guidance. This amount of cubic feet is equivalent to about 1,871 side-by-side refrigerators or about 1,234 top-mount refrigerators. [5] No matter how the size is measured, the NAS facility is well-used, as is its digital resources, by Asian-Americans, indigenous people, and various researchers. [6] Some indigenous people even called the closure and movement of records to other locations a “paper genocide.” As Bob Ferguson, the Washington State Attorney General, stated in February, moving the records from the NAS facility, to states such as California and Missouri, contradicts the purpose of the archives and impedes efforts by local families to research their ancestors.
There are other problems with the closure. Llewellyn and Buchanan pointed out, for one, the errors in the Public Buildings Reform Board (PBRB)’s assessment to close the facility, noting the significant level of foot traffic, the lack of public hearings on the closure, and NARA management agreeing with the decision to close. [7] There is also concern that not all the records held at the NAS facility could be digitized. Some news outlets, like MyNorthwest, have rightly pointed out that large items like bound books and maps might not be “properly scanned” or digitized at all. Llewellyn and Buchanan further note the involved process of digitization, and extra costs researchers will have to pay if the records from the NAS facility are moved. [8]
Readers may be asking what can be done about the closure. Now is not the time to sit back and let the Washington State government to the heavy lifting, nor the Seattle media. In the latter case, the Seattle Times opinedagainst the decision to close the NAS facility. In the case of Washington State, Ferguson, mentioned earlier, proposed a compromise to keep the regional facility of NARA in Washington State, worrying, like others, of the prospect of losing access to “over a century of history.” But his noble efforts have been for naught. The closure is on track, with NARA justifying it based on experience with the COVID-19 pandemic, saying the agency will be “less location dependent” in the future, with users accessing resources remotely rather than in-person. On the legal front, in August, Ferguson filed federal Freedom of Information Act lawsuits for public records against NARA, the Office of Management & Budget (OMB), and the General Services Administration (GSA). He also requested documents from the PBRB the same month. He stated that NARA and OMB failed to respond to requests he made in early February, while the GSA has not sent records it promised in the summer of this year. The PBRB, on the other hand, wanted taxpayers to pay about $65,000 to redact information from documents even though no sensitive information is present, as stated in various articles in the Seattle Times, HeraldNet, and Seattle Weekly. These efforts will likely go forward as Ferguson won the race to be the Attorney General of Washington State against Republican challenger Matt Larkin.
In the short-term, readers should email the OMB Director Russell Vought at Russell.t.vought@omb.eop.gov, the GSA Administrator Emily Murphy at emily.murphy@gsa.gov, Archivist David Ferriero at David.Ferriero@nara.gov, and the PBRB at fastainfo@pbrb.gov, opposing the closure of the NAS facility. Currently, the NAS facility has not been listed by the GSA for sale, whether on its database of real property or its database displaying federal properties being auctioned off. While COVID-19 makes the push for more remote learning attractive, it is still possible and vital to open in-person facilities, in line with existing rules and regulations to ensure the safety of the staff and patrons at specific facilities. In the long-term, if the NAS facility is closed, it could put other NARA facilities in jeopardy, as Llewellyn and Buchanan point out. [9] At the same time, archivists should advocate for a “massive investment in time, money, and planning” to digitize more of NARA’s holdings, as the aforementioned scholars argue for, [10] with not even 1% digitized at the present! Whether the facility is closed or not, there are dark times ahead for NARA, as less government spending may be on the horizon, unless the proposed budget for NARA is approved by the House of Representatives and Senate.
[5] Karie Lapham Fay, “Dimensions of a Standard Size Refrigerator,” SFGate, December 17, 2018, https://homeguides.sfgate.com/dimensions-standard-size-refrigerator-82262.html. I used the largest size of a side-by-side refrigerator (31 cubic feet) and largest size of a top-mount refrigerator is 47 cubic feet when using the highest numbers in Fay’s article.
Issues & Advocacy 