Neal
Kane, chair, The History Project
Preparing for The History Project’s
presentation in conjunction with the Lyric Stage’s April 12 performance of The Temperamentals has enabled the
members of our group to revisit some of the original research we compiled for
our 1998 book Improper Bostonians. While
helping to assemble the information for the mini-exhibit created by THP for the
Lyric’s lobby, I thought of Edmund White’s essay collection The Burning Library, whose title refers
to the idea that when someone dies, a library burns.
What was life like for lesbians and
gay men in Boston during the years chronicled in The Temperamentals? This is a question we will seek to address in
our presentation – one that is difficult to answer for a number of reasons. Key
among them is the fact that while American society had never been hospitable
toward men and women who identified as homosexual prior to 1950, the atmosphere
of paranoia and suspicion that characterized the Cold War era compelled gay
people to adopt an even greater degree of secrecy. As a result, thousands of
gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender individuals had to live with the
reality that the substance of their experiences as loving and sexual beings
would never find validation in the historical record. They were
compelled to burn – metaphorically, and sometimes literally – the
libraries of their lives.
Lost to history
The History Project’s work to
restore gay New Englanders to their rightful place in the historical narrative
of the 1950s and 1960s has often been a somber exercise. In attempting to
document gay life during the Cold War, archivists and researchers are confronted,
for the most part, with a melancholic silence. During that time, gay people had
every incentive not to preserve the
substance of their lives in letters, photographs, and public records – the
building blocks that constitute the very foundation of historical research. A
snapshot or love letter could serve as grounds for termination, disinheritance,
or blackmail. We will never know the number and volume of records destroyed by
gay New Englanders and their families in the name of “privacy” and “discretion”
during that period. When those individuals died, the library of their lives
perished with them – and no one was there to preserve it.
As a result, the efforts of The
History Project to reconstitute that period of New England’s LGBT history have
been limited to preserving the sparse remnants of historical information that
survived the period before Stonewall: a few oral histories, a handful of
publications, and a meager store of photographs.
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| Drag king and queen, late 1950's, Boston |
The members of THP are motivated,
in large part, by a commitment to honor those brave LGBT individuals whose
stories were lost to history. Having amassed one of the largest LGBT archival
collections in the country, which spans both the pre-Stonewall and post-Stonewall
eras, we lovingly preserve those documents for posterity and share them with
researchers and the public. Our archives chronicle the rich tapestry of gay
lives in Boston and beyond – how we have lived, loved, struggled,
protested, and triumphed. As an independent archives, we are able to save
records that would otherwise be destroyed, and create opportunities for the
public to experience how the history they contain can be brought to life.
Programs such as our series From the
Archives give individuals the opportunity to learn more about the social
and historical significance of our collections. Collaborations with other
organizations such as the Lyric help us educate community members – both
gay and straight – about the contributions of LGBT individuals to the
historical narrative.
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| Scott Erickson discussed the button collection he donated to The History Project as part of our From the Archives series |
Our dream is to acquire a space
that will serve as a permanent home for our archives and a center for scholarly
research and public exhibitions related to New England’s LGBT history. As we
pursue that dream, we continue to process thousands of documents annually,
thanks to the tireless efforts of volunteers who spend their nights and
weekends transforming chaotic boxes of paper into carefully preserved and fully
indexed collections. Their work is informed by pride, patience, and a shared
goal: ensuring that the achievements of LGBT individuals assume and maintain
their rightful place in history for generations to come.
