By: Jason Evans
For
my second blog for Pikes Peak, I thought I would share why I love history so
much. This might take a while, so be patient. To be fair, I think my love of
history was originally an infatuation with trivia and quirky events that
evolved into love, then obsession.
In
1984 I entered Mr. Perdy’s 7th grade World History class at Woodrow
Wilson Jr. High, in Pasadena, California. (Does anybody remember Jr. high
school?) Mr. Perdy was this really cool guy. Older, jovial, and full of jokes,
he had great classroom management and taught really well. We were about six
weeks into school, learning about the ancient Romans and Greeks, when he
brought a film for us to watch; Cleopatra, starring Richard Burton and Elizabeth
Taylor.
I
had never seen a film in class before, and this film was epic. The costumes,
the plot, (the overacting), I was completely hooked! I think that was the first
time I realized that history was about people. Real, flesh and blood people,
who dreamed, became jealous, failed and succeeded.
For
the rest of that year, my number one question in class was: why? Why
did the Romans declare war on Carthage? Why
did European Christians start the Crusades? Why would anybody live that way? . . . Why?
Many
years later I was at community college, hanging out with the misfits in the
cafeteria, when I discovered that a bunch of them worked at the Southern
California Renaissance Faire. At my faire, the actors are divided into social
groups named after saints. The military guild was called the Guild of St.
Michael (patron saint of soldiers). The Queen’s court, (it was an Elizabethan
faire,) was named the Guild of St. George (patron saint of England).
So
my friends were in the Guild of St. Andrews. They played Scots & Irish. Now
for some reason, this 350 pound black man was always infatuated with kilts and
bagpipes. So I begged and pleaded to be an actor at faire. Long story short, I
worked faire for seven years. These people were my friends, and my family.
They
were also really into peer pressure.
See,
you had to know your history to work the Southern Faire. (That’s what we called
it because there was a Northern Faire in the Bay area.) I was given a freakin’
bibliography of books and was told to read them. Now, no one was going to kick
me out if I didn’t read, but I learned quick that the ignorant were mocked.
I
also learned that every group specialized in its own history. That people would
get into heated arguments about fabric fibers, blade lengths, historical dyes,
and the political motivations of monarchs dead centuries.
Faire
impressed upon me a second time that history was about people; how they lived,
what they did, and why they did it.
In
1994, I got accepted at UC Santa Barbara. (Home of the Gauchos!) While
applying, I discovered that being a double major was pretty simple. I also
discovered they had a Renaissance Studies major. So guess what I did?
Yup,
I doubled majored.
Now
Renaissance Studies was an interdisciplinary major, meaning I could take
classes in
theatre arts, history, art history and English. I took about four
history classes for that major. I also took two theatre classes (on costuming),
two art history classes on Dutch painting, a classics class and an English
class on Renaissance Theater. I read the revenger’s tragedy and the Spanish
tragedy, among other plays. (Both had plots and characters Shakespeare lifted from
Romeo & Juliet and Hamlet.)
Both
majors reinforced what I already knew; history was about people. What UC Santa Barbara did was introduce me to their words.
I read Shakespeare, Daniel Webster, and Frederick Douglass. I read speeches
Vichy French politicians gave imploring their fellow leaders not abandon France
to the Nazis. I held an original pamphlet declaring South Carolina’s secession
from the United States. I read the Sykes-Pico Accords, which laid the
foundation for the Mideast as we know it today.
As
I finished my studies and graduated from college I realized I had something
more important than a bunch of facts in my head, or the ability to write killer
essays. I realized I could now envision how our world got to the place it is
today. More importantly, I knew why.
History
is important because it answers that question. Why is the world in the state
that it’s in? Why does our government implement the policies that it does? Why
are some groups disadvantaged while others flourish? Why do we have an
electoral college, instead of direct elections for President? Why?
When
I’m sad or lonely or angry about an injustice, I’m comforted by the fact that I
am not the only one who has felt this way. Teenage boys in ancient Egypt mooned
over girls they would never kiss. English nobles frequently got in trouble with
banks, and that in spite of their profound faith, the Puritans were wracked
with guilt and fear, just like some of us.
Understanding
that we express the same hopes and fears for our children, make the same
mistakes and carry the same kinds of prejudice somehow makes me feel better.
Like I’m not alone. History makes me feel like we are all in this together.
And,
if you’re really wise, then you can learn
from history. Learn that courage is not the absence of fear, but acting in
spite of it. That things could have been different if this person had gone left
instead of right. That the world we live in was built by courageous, imperfect
people who worked hard for what we have today. That at the end of the day, we
are all human. Flawed and petty, but full of hope.
And
THAT, gentle reader is why I love history. Now tell me why you love history?
Leave your stories in the comments section below.
About the Author: Jason Evans always wanted to be a writer, he just didn't know it. He grew up in Pasadena, California, in the 1980s where he watched way too much television, but was introduced to literature by his grandfather and his favorite middle school and high school teachers. He wasted his youth working at the So Cal Renaissance Faire (a dangerous place because it’s the gateway drug to other historical costumes,). In his leisure time he’s an educator, a writer, and a bon vivant. He is a graduate of UC Santa Barbara, with degrees in History & Renaissance Studies, a teaching credentials from CSU Los Angeles, as well as a graduate degree from the University of Colorado, Denver. He currently resides in Denver with his wife, the fetching Mrs. Evans, their three dogs and a mischievous cat who calls him his thrall. Find out more about him at www.jason-evans.net @evans_writer
"Learn that courage is not the absence of fear, but acting in spite of it."
ReplyDeleteThis is so true. Many historical situations teach this lesson, yet we struggle with it every day.
What do I love about history? Standing in a home used by countless families and imagining their day-to-day lives playing out.
~Summer
I learned a love of History through listening to my grandda tell stories. His rich voice brought people like Mick Collins, De Valera, Connelly, and Pearse to life in a way a textbook never could.
ReplyDeleteGrandda's stories showed me that people are basically the same, whenever they lived. The problems they faced are about the same problems we have, give or take some level of urgency. The ideas they hold are generally sensible, given the information they have to work with and the spare time they have for thought.
I grew up in a place where history was all around us. Today, I enjoy doing everyday tasks like baking bread or spinning wool in the way they would be done 3 or 4 centuries ago, just to get the satisfaction of mastering a craft.
I grew up in Wyoming,a venerable plethora of history; cowboys, indians, robbers, farmers, ranchers...the list goes on. There were county wars, homesteads burned and people killed, for nothing more than the fact that they were there. Life is all about those type of moments, history in miniature, lived daily by people who breathed and loved and cried and laughed. That to me is why history is so wonderful. There is always some person we can relate to and appreciate their angst as it is also ours.
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