Two years ago, I had the great opportunity to sit in a unique classroom for a two-day seminar Slavery in New Netherland and the Dutch Atlantic World. It was labeled a conference, but to me, it was like being in an amazing living library. Absorbing words, making mental connections to material, books, articles I had read, filling in the gaps in my understanding, answering questions I had pondered, and opening the way for more, was spectacular. Listening, had me rethinking text I was writing for an exhibit, considering new programs and digital material that could be produced. I couldn’t wait to buy the book. The one with copies of the papers, so I could sit and take it all in again, but slower, in more manageable chunks. Thinking about the footnotes and citations was so exciting. The book would fill hours in a way television never can for me. But the joke was on me. Because there was no book. There were no reproductions of any of the papers presented. There were no footnotes, not even Cliff notes, and it had not been recorded. What?

I could not believe it. The latest research on so many different avenues within one area of content. I had barely taken any notes because I was so engrossed, so focused on being present. I could only give thanks that I had been there. But what was I to do with it now? How could I use it? How could I share it others?

My trip home gave me space to see again the disconnect that happens too often between those in the academy and public historians. We are codependent, yet there are times I feel that there is a lack of understanding of the important role people like me play. Public historians, historic interpreters, those who exist between the scholars and the public, and who are scholars themselves. People who work in museums of one sort or another, in historic houses, and historic societies. Those who craft exhibits, tours, school programs, and public events. Without the latest research being shared there is a chance that we could just keep repeating half-truths, and the public would be destined to read new exhibits with material that is ten to twenty years out of date.

We all understand that research takes time and is not easily done. But we are not all aware of the fickle focus of the public and their growing hunger for truth. They want the whole story, with all the people put back in place. They are tired of hearing the same old myths from their early school days, and even though they push back with “Why didn’t I learn this in school,” their annoyance is softened when we say this was only recently discovered. It is new, we did not know this years ago.

The general public wants to understand our nation’s history and they depend upon us to give it to them. What we say to school children is not crafted the same way for adults. To be flexible with language, and prepared for the questions that may ask, requires us to hold far more knowledge than is often easily shared. It requires us to link with the academy for the research we cannot do ourselves. To link it with our collections, and to weave it into material that captivates, intrigues, and brings visitors back. We must be on top of what is discovered, so the narratives make sense not just in one house, but across the state, and around the world.

Using the latest research available, talking to our colleagues to support a deeper and more truthful narrative, attending conferences and programs helps us speak truth to power, and engage in ways that ensures a future interest in New York’s history. Without it we cannot survive, particularly at a time when difficult or challenging history is being forced out of public view.

This special feature, an effort by the New Netherland Institute to present new research on slavery, the slave trade, and the lives of the enslaved, helps meet the needs of historic interpreters. We, as well as the wider general audience, are grateful to these historians whose offerings here bridge the gap between the academy and the public. Their work will mix with ours and become words that feed curiosity, and keep people interested beyond the hour or so they spend in a museum. We look forward to seeing more of their work presented here in the future.