JOHN H. JAMESON. JR.

It is likely that the waning years of the 20th century will be identified in the history of archaeology as a time when the profession, as a whole, came to the realization that it could no longer afford to be detached from the mechanisms and programs that attempt to communicate archaeological information to the lay public. In the face of an increasing public interest and demand for information, archaeologists are collaborating with historians, museum curators, exhibit designers, and other cultural resource specialists to devise the best strategies for translating an explosion of archaeological information for the public. The 1980s and 1990s have seen a great proliferation of efforts to meet this demand, with varying degrees of success. While many innovative interpretive programs have been created, little has been written about them.
        This book is part of the Public Interpretation Initiative (Jameson 1994a), a public outreach program initiated and coordinated since 1990 by the Southeast Archaeological Center's Technical Assistance and Partnerships Division (formerly the Interagency Archaeological Services Division). The Initiative programs are designed to foster an exchange of ideas between archaeologists and education professionals who are striving for a more holistic approach to the public interpretation of archaeological information. The program's activities have included the organization and coordination of academic symposia, workshops, and training sessions presented in a variety of national and international forums. The articles in this volume were generated by these sessions or from follow-up discussions. With the exception of some notable contributions from Stone and Molyneaux's The Presented Past, published in 1994 (Stone, this volume), comparatively little has been published on the subject of public interpretation.
        The purpose of putting together this volume was to begin to fill this void in the literature by providing some philosophical background and examples of approaches and programs that have worked. Although the case studies described here are examples of successful strategies, some include warnings of pitfalls to avoid. While the models presented in this volume are worthy of replication, they also provide some useful guidelines against reinventing the wheel.

The articles in this book can be grouped under a developing specialty in archaeology that can be termed the "public interpretation" of archaeological information (Jameson 1994a). As used here, public interpretation includes a broad scope of endeavors ranging from formal education and curriculum development to less structured programs such as site tours and museum displays. The term also encompasses singular communicative devices such as the publication of popular histories, public awareness posters and brochures, and development of multimedia presentations including the fast emerging Internet sources and World Wide Web sites of modern cyberspace. It embraces outreach programs and other systematic attempts to provide educational and awareness services beyond conventional boundaries.
        Public interpretation involves the development of communication strategies between the technical scientist-archaeologist and nonspecialists such as park interpreters, whose job is to deliver the "message" of archaeology to a variety of public audiences. The specialists and professionals who carry out these programs include archaeologists, historians, on-site interpreters, teachers, writers, artists, curators, exhibit designers, and other cultural resource specialists. They are often assisted by trained volunteers who help alleviate the inescapable shortages of staff power and resources needed to carry out successful programs. When resources allow, programs are most effective when these specialists form interdisciplinary teams for design and implementation (Honerkamp and Zierden, this volume).
        Although closely tied philosophically, public interpretation differs in its scope from more technical discussions of interpretation of academics in that it has as its focus the translation and simultaneous communication of archaeological information and concepts to a wide array of audiences that comprise the general public. This is not to say that many research-oriented archaeologists do not engage in public interpretation of their data, as Stanley South and others aptly demonstrate in this volume. The differences between technical or academic versus public interpretation can be explained in terms of intended audience. When scholars such as Ian Hodder (1991c; Hodder et al. 1994) discuss the current approaches to archaeological interpretation, their primary intended audience is other archaeologists and social scientists. While their observations and conclusions are useful in debating the intellectual issues of the interpretation of observed phenomena in archaeology, rarely do they encompass the issues of effectively conveying archaeological information to public audiences. Nor do they include concerns about engaging, entertaining, and informing in an ethically sensitive manner-issues that are among the central themes of public interpretation (Jameson 1994a; 1995).
        In today's increasingly multicultural and technological world, archaeologists working in tandem with professional interpreters and exhibit designers are challenged to make archaeologically generated insights more accessible to the public. They do this by empowering members of the public to participate in the critical evaluations of historical and archaeological interpretations that are presented to them and helping them to understand how and why the past is relevant to the present (Jameson 1994b; Davis and Hoffman, both in this volume).

It has been 30 years since the passage of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, the key legislation that began a surge of federally mandated archaeological and historical studies in the United States. Since passage of the Act, hundreds of thousands of professional reports have recorded millions of archaeological and historical sites containing hundreds of millions of cultural objects. Yet, in most areas, we are just beginning to sample and record the evidences of the rich archaeological and historical heritage left behind by our cultural forebears. The continuing flow of information and the evolution of field methodologies and standards have sharpened our ability to focus on the important aspects of this heritage. In fact, we often cite these success stories as the principal arguments and justification for continually building and adding to this already vast database. But, despite the promises and predictions of 30 years ago, what has the public, who has footed most of the bill in terms of tax dollars spent on these studies, appreciably gained?
        In our enthusiasm to enforce the 1966 Act and a bevy of other protection laws, have we lost sight of the ultimate purpose and raison d'être of the compliance process, which is to provide public enjoyment and appreciation for the rich diversity of past human experiences? I believe that we need to reevaluate how we carry out the letter and spirit of these laws that recognize the reality, as expressed in the 1966 Act, that: "the spirit and direction of the nation are founded upon and reflected in its historic heritage"; that this heritage should be "preserved as a living part of our community life.in order to give a sense of orientation to the American people"; and that federal agencies are required to take the lead in establishing programs for the protection of significant historic resources "for the inspiration and benefit of the people.." (Jameson 1994b).
        The spirit of these legal mandates requires us to ensure that archaeological information is provided to the public in an informative manner. While most people do not have the necessary knowledge or training to evaluate the results of archaeological research directly, they can and should be given this information in an accurate, "de-jargonized," and entertaining manner. When research is not adequately made meaningful to the nonspecialist, it is ultimately an empty endeavor.
        As pointed out by Karen Lee Davis and others in this volume, we also need to foster a dialogue with the public that distinguishes between the goals and objectives of public interpretation and those of pure research. Just as archaeological methodology is guided by well-defined research goals, public interpretation must be guided by an understanding of what it focuses on, and to whom it is directed. The ultimate relevance of public interpretation and outreach programs lies in the ethical responsibility among professional archaeologists to make the past accessible and to empower people to participate in a critical evaluation of the pasts that are presented to them (see Davis, this volume). We achieve success when we recognize and practice this ethical imperative.
        Public interpretation of archaeological research is essential if we are to provide increased access to and input about the past. While only a relatively small percentage of practicing archaeologists are involved in researching the past, there is no reason why the public cannot participate in this process through a critical evaluation of the interpretations that are presented to them. To do this we must provide the public with opportunities to participate as well as to develop evaluation skills. As we prepare for the 21st century, we must summon ourselves to reach out to the people and involve them in the rich diversity of their national and ethnic experience. The challenge is to bring the fascinating subject of archaeology into focus. To do that, we must learn and instruct ourselves in the most effective public interpretation and outreach methods (Jameson 1994a, 1994b; and in this volume, Davis, Hoffman, Yamin, and Honerkamp and Zierden).

We have organized this volume into four parts, ranging from more broad, philosophical discussions, to more specific case studies. Part I contains general concepts that should be relevant to all settings in the public interpretation of archaeology. While contributing additional philosophical backdrop, the subject matter in Part II is more focused and contains descriptions of proven strategies of broad application. The articles in Part III concentrate on programs and strategies applied to urban settings, and Part IV includes detailed descriptions of successful programs and how they were carried out.
        In "Part I: Background," four authors discuss broad philosophies of how information about the past, generated through archaeology, can be presented to enable the public to enhance its knowledge of the past, and, consequentially, its quality of life.

In "Presenting the Past: A Framework for Discussion," Peter Stone of English Heritage introduces us to basic concepts in framing a discussion of effective public interpretation within formal and informal education venues. This article describes what he calls "the educational role of archaeology" as it has been applied around the world. One key conclusion is that archaeology is an excellent tool in training students to work more carefully and critically rather than memorizing information about a particular time period or culture, as is often the case in the formal curriculum of schools. Students learn the value of unrecorded information not found in the traditional curriculum or textbooks, and discover how archaeology can fill important gaps and even provide corrections to historical records and accounts. By seeing history as nonstatic and constructed, and therefore open to reinterpretation and coexisting divergent interpretations, students learn that "true history" is redefined and rewritten as new information becomes available. Since archaeology nearly always produces new information, conclusions about "truths" in history are only temporary, subject to reinterpretation, and never complete. Stone also cites research showing that students who study the past through archaeology rather than the traditional document-based approach retain more and enjoy their studies more.

In the second and third articles in Part I, Parker Potter and Nancy Jo Chabot expand on another important concept mentioned by Peter Stone: that, in the realm of public interpretation, the interests and the prejudices of the messenger/interpreter have as much to do with the message as do the inherent qualities of the information. Archaeologists should strive to empower the public to be more in control of its own learning by giving it the intellectual tools that archaeologists and historians use to interpret sites. With these tools, people can participate in the creation of historical knowledge and in the definition of the historical context of both themselves and their culture. This knowledge produces a greater sense of well-being. Potter and Chabot concentrate their discussion on the makeup of an effective site tour, citing examples from Annapolis, Maryland, and Lochmere, New Hampshire, respectively. They frame their discussion around varying approaches to interpreting the "truths" about the past that exist among the visiting public. Each tour or presentation is seen as a unique event (an artifact, if you will) that depends on the identity and approach of the interpreter as well as the makeup of the audience. With this approach, each presentation can reveal multiple truths about the site that transcend mere description of what was found in the ground.
        As are several other authors in this volume (for example, Davis, Honerkamp and Zierden, Hoffman, and Yamin; also the reactive comments by South), Potter and Chabot are influenced in their thinking by the philosophy of critical theory in archaeology, which argues that when the past is interpreted and becomes history it tends to become ideology (Leone et al. 1987). The consciousness or awareness of that process helps those who write about or explain (interpret) the past to realize the ideological notions that generate modern everyday life. Interpreters realize that the meanings they impose on the past are particular to their own cultural and social background. With this awareness, site interpreters can help their audiences appreciate that many, if not all, of their preconceived notions about time and space are actually part of their own, modern, historically based ideology (Hodder 1991c:174-180; 1994:164-168). Thus, audiences can appreciate that knowledge about the archaeologically revealed past is useful in giving meaning to the present (Potter, this volume).
        Reacting to what he calls "the current antiscience fad of critical theory," Stanley South provides the last contribution to the background section of this book by discussing the value of generalized interpretations that are "sensitively done and based on empirical data." He warns archaeologists against going too far in accepting the conclusions of critical theorists, posits that there are no facts or truths in archaeology, and asserts that the past is not knowable with any integrity (Hodder 1991c:178). If the past has no integrity, then anyone's interpretation is as good as anyone else's. Thus, the interpretation would be open to anyone's political or ideological whims. South offers an analogy to some museum displays that pour too much on the visitor and leave them bored: "You can never literally re-create a complete account of past lifeways, but a generalized display based on empirical data, if done properly, can fire the imagination at every turn." In pointing out the achievements in archaeological interpretation of historical archaeologists in America, he shows how a generalized approach to interpretation provides a visual image that allows the visiting audience to imagine the past. It is interesting to note that all case studies and strategies described in this book by necessity employ elements of generalized interpretation as South defines it, but also, when available, supply details of the site and material culture that are corroborated by the archaeological evidence.

In "Part II: Strategies That Work," three authors describe proven strategies of broad application in the public interpretation and teaching of archaeology. These programs are exemplary and provide basic guidelines for success relevant to archaeological research facilities, government agencies, managed sites, and parks.
        In explaining the successes of the Crow Canyon Archaeological Center in Colorado, Megg Heath emphasizes the importance of integrating the public into actual research. The maintenance of high-quality research allows the Center's staff archaeologists to emphasize the importance of systematic methods in research design, analysis, and record keeping. This also allows the staff to follow and transmit ethical standards.
        Expanding on the theme of public participation, Teresa Hoffman describes the Arizona state government's efforts to make archaeology come alive for people. In a state where archaeology enjoys a high public profile, pioneering programs such as Arizona Archaeology Week and the more recently developed Archaeology Month have helped to raise public awareness and at the same time combat vandalism.
        As background to her discussion of the special challenges at sites where fieldwork is no longer ongoing, Karen Davis articulates many of the key concepts of public interpretation in archaeology. With so much research funded by tax dollars or through the Cultural Resource Management (CRM) compliance process, archaeologists have a professional obligation to ensure that public interpretation of newly generated archaeological information is carried out; people support things they understand. Archaeologists should engage the general public in dialogues about why we should care about and preserve the past; this is essential, says Davis, to developing a supportive constituency. Archaeologists are socially responsible not only for preserving the past but also for making that past accessible. When active archaeological sites are not available, indirect approaches, such as exhibitions, tours of the property, and signing, are utilized.

Unique problems exist when public interpretation is practiced in large metropolitan areas. In "Part III: Interpreting Archaeology in Cities," the authors provide three examples of perseverance in the face of formidable political and logistical problems.
        Karolyn Smardz describes the creation and development of her unprecedented and inspirational program that established archaeology as a formal element of the school curriculum in Toronto. In working with young students, the goal of Smardz and staff was to make archaeology accessible but also fun. The challenge was to foster successful, popular, and sustainable programs with a substantially international and multicultural audience.
        In the second article of this section, Sherene Baugher and Diana Wall describe the evolution of three exhibits in New York City that, despite substantial legal and political issues as well as chronic problems of maintenance and design defects, were precedent -setting in the use of urban spaces for public interpretation. Building on their experiences with earlier projects, they were able to avoid certain political and logistical pitfalls that plagued previous efforts.
        In an excellent example of public interpretation resulting from CRM-driven research, Nick Honerkamp and Martha Zierden recount the development of the Charleston Place project in South Carolina. Their conclusions emphasize the value of interdisciplinary cooperation in accomplishing both research and public interpretation goals. This project offers an excellent illustration of methods in presentation that allow the public to appreciate the value of archaeology in correcting and revising history.

The last section of this book, "Part IV: Interpreting Archaeology at Museums, Parks, and Sites," contains descriptions of on-site programs that have achieved success and, in some instances, that have even been the victims of this success (Whittlesey and Farrell), or that may have fallen short of their potential (Bograd and Singleton).
        Describing the world-class interpretive center at Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site, Bill Iseminger recounts the history of public interpretation at the prehistoric Illinois site from 1925 to the present. The scheme of interpretation at Cahokia has changed as public awareness and site visitation increased. Cahokia has developed a program that attempts to engage and educate by targeting several categories of visitors that Iseminger terms "levels of public interest." These levels range from the professional interests of archaeologists and anthropologists to the personal and educational interests of tourists, students, and teachers. To avoid serving as "baby-sitters" for school groups, Cahokia adopted an educational program that makes efficient use of staff and well-orchestrated volunteer program. Before scheduling school group visits, teachers must attend an orientation workshop and receive a packet that includes pre- and post-visit activities. Native Americans participate in the Heritage America program and several other activities throughout the calendar year.
        An exemplary case of collaboration between scientific and native communities is the program established at the Hatzic Rock Site, British Columbia. As authors David Pokotylo and Gregory Brass point out, the archeologists and indigenous peoples could have competed with each other for the authority to interpret the site, but instead they have come together in the spirit of compromise and collaboration in respecting each others' perspectives and philosophies. This cooperation and the resulting alternative perspectives for the interpretation of "truth history" at the Hatzic Rock Site show how the archaeological record can contribute to a diversity of uses and interpretations in contemporary society.
        At Sabino Canyon, near metropolitan Tucson, Arizona, Stephanie Whittlesey and Mary Farrell confront a problem for public interpretation common to so-called "natural parks," where the significance of archaeology and cultural resources is overshadowed by the splendor of the park's natural environment. To combat this handicap, the approach at Sabino Canyon has been to "put people back into the landscape." They do this by showing that, for the prehistoric and indigenous peoples, the canyon was primarily a seasonal resource for food and water. Since prehistoric groups and the historic Hohokam spent only part of their time in the canyon, the interpretations have focused on providing a wider perspective by placing Sabino within the context of the local area and larger region. Thus, visitors can learn how people have adapted in various ways to the unique conditions of the Sonoran Desert.
        Barbara Heath supplies another superior example of archaeology's filling important information gaps in the historical record. In this case, it is the life and environment of one of the most important "founding fathers" of the United States, Thomas Jefferson. At Poplar Forest, Jefferson's Bedford County plantation and retreat, archaeological information is being gathered that will shed new light on the material world and standards of living of Jefferson, his slaves, and his free workers. Public interpretation of this information is carried out through a variety of media ranging from temporary exhibits, guided tours, and lectures to written communications, including brochures and articles. At Monticello, the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation uses all of these interpretive media, plus permanent exhibits, restored buildings, gardens, and modern reproductions of archaeologically recovered objects that are produced for sale in the museum shops.
        An alternative perspective is offered in the article by Mark Bograd and Theresa Singleton, who see archaeology as a tool to help fill the information and interpretation voids of social history: "The mission of social history," they write, "is to render significant what has been thought incidental; to make central the important contribution that the common person has made to America's past..The ultimate goal of social history and good interpretation, is not simply to add voices to mainstream history, but rather mainstream those voices into history." If history museums espouse to be representations of America, they "have an obligation to present a history that includes all of us." Sites such as Monticello and Mount Vernon are seen as "interpretive islands of black history surrounded by a sea of interpretation that neglects the contributions of women, minorities, and the poor." At Colonial Williamsburg, where the line between the interpretation of history and the commercialization of history can be blurred, the interpretation of slavery is obscured. "There is always the fear," the authors write, "that, if we depict and discuss slavery or present a mussed-up version of history, we may offend visitors, who may then not want to return to visit. Underlying this fear is a presumption that the public does not want to be challenged.they come simply for entertainment or to have their preconceived beliefs affirmed." The reader will note that this discussion has direct parallels to the points made by Peter Stone (this volume) that the archaeological approach can provide a "reinterpreted" and more complete historical record of society's disenfranchised that allows individuals to better understand and appreciate their historical role.
        Rebecca Yamin gives us a case in point to discussions by Potter and Chabot (this volume) and others, following the example of Mark Leone and colleagues, that "people do make their own history and can change it by their actions in the present" (Tilley 1989:114). The experience of visitors to the Morven House excavations, through the public interpretation programs, was that they were able to momentarily drop their romantic vision of how things should have been and begin to appreciate and accept the changes that had taken place through time. Politics and public symbolism intervened, however, when orders came that the site was to be restored to a single idealized moment in time: the late 18th century setting of the home of Richard Stockton, signer of the Declaration of Independence. In this case, despite the generally positive reaction of the visiting public, the local media, reacting to political hype, venomously attacked the project for its destruction of the pristine 18th century setting and for its attention to other historic periods. One question can be asked from this experience: "Is the dismantling of public symbols an appropriate role for archaeology?"
        Meggett Lavin describes the transformation of public interpretation at Drayton Hall plantation in the aftermath of Hurricane Hugo in 1989. Prior to that year, site tours focused on the architectural significance of the 1790s main house, the state of preservation, and the unprecedented decision to leave the house unrestored and unfurnished. Interpreters were often tempted by the abundance of undocumented stories and local legends to expand on the "great planter, great wealth" story line, inspired by the dramatic and aesthetic surroundings. Eventually, however, the documentary, oral history, and archaeological research projects focused on the "truth" of everyday living, information that has created a new and much more interesting story line rooted in reality. Archaeology's most critical contribution to Drayton Hall has been to provide a model for examining the site as a whole and broadening interpretive thinking beyond the "great family, great wealth" approach. The focus of present-day interpretive programs is to help visitors understand how the architecture of the building, in combination with archaeology and history, documents changes in everyday life over the past three centuries. An education program for school children is framed by the question, "How do we know what we know?" Elements of this program include: Diaries in the Dirt, a program that puts students in the role of archaeologists trying to piece together the time line of events using oral history accounts, architectural clues, documents, artifacts, and photographs of actual excavations; and Plantation Excavation, where the students participate in a three-hour model excavation.
       Doug Scott of the National Park Service describes another example of "a blessing in disguise" in relation to a natural disaster that has prompted new opportunities for archaeological research and public interpretation. Following a grasslands wildfire in 1983, the superintendent of Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument recognized the opportunity to investigate the newly exposed battlefield for archaeological evidence. Since the site of the Battle of Little Bighorn is one of the most notorious and debated battlegrounds in America, and a popular unit of the National Park System, there was certain to be widespread public and press attention focused on the project. As Scott points out, with the strong public interest, the on-site interpretive program quickly evolved from a one-person operation to a highly coordinated team effort involving daily briefings by the archaeologists, press releases, daily updates furnished to staff interpreters, and small group tours. These presentations served to inform the public about the process of archaeology. The approach taken, which met with great success, involved comparing the archaeological investigation to a crime scene investigation.
        In the final article, David Kirkpatrick describes another example of a project that had to cope with a subject where the "truth" is often lost in legend and myth. For over one hundred years, Billy the Kid and the Lincoln County War (1876-79), New Mexico Territory, have fascinated historians and the public and have provided material for western novels and movies. Archaeological excavations at the McSween House, site both of a famous five-day battle between rival factions and of Billy the Kid's daring escape amid gunfire, provided an opportunity to develop a unique public education and interpretation program. The program focused on revising the public's perception of archaeology and archaeologists, the reality versus the myth of Billy the Kid and the Lincoln County War. Site tours, museum displays, active excavations, and a well-organized volunteer program all provided opportunities for better interpretation that resulted in increased public awareness about the role of archaeology in enhancing everyday life.