In his new book, A Century of Tomorrows: How Imagining the Future Shapes the Present, historian Glenn Adamson muses, “every story about the future is also a demand to intervene in the present.” I should also add that every story about the present has its roots in the past.
I was trained as a historian, receiving a Ph.D. in Latin American history way back in 1969. I taught history for twenty-six years at the University of California, Riverside. Different kinds of history. Latin American history. Chicano history. Film and history. History of the mass media.
Fifty years after receiving my Ph.D. and long removed from the history classroom, I still draw on my favorite subject. I draw on it when giving lectures or doing workshops. I draw on it when analyzing issues. I draw on it when consulting with organizations. I draw on it when contemplating the future.
Because of my more than sixty years of working in history (I started my Ph.D. program in 1962), I respect that subject. But I also fear it, because history inevitably creates dilemmas, inescapable dilemmas. This is certainly true when it comes to diversity.
Consider the following diversity-related dilemmas. In addressing history, whom do you include and whom do you exclude? How do you address history without becoming imprisoned by it? How do you go beyond the obvious to identify the more subtle nuances of history’s impact on the present? How do you draw upon history to re-envision and develop effective strategies for the future?
Take the issue of inclusivity, one of the essential values of the diversity movement. In January, 1970, I found myself dealing with that issue when I began teaching Chicano history. I didn’t have much precedent to draw on. I had never taken a course on the subject I was then teaching . . . for a very good reason. When I went to college, Chicano history was not being taught. I found myself in the first wave of Chicano history professors. We were building almost from scratch.
For that class, I required each student to complete a Chicano-focused research paper. As one option, Chicanos could write about their own families. Non-Chicanos could choose to interview a Chicano family.
Shortly after my explanation of that requirement, one young lady of Irish American ancestry came to me and asked if she could write about her own ethnic family. Since it was a Chicano History class, my immediate reaction was to say no, that she had to write about Chicanos. However, instead I told her I would give it some thought.
I did, and recognized that my assignment did not live up to the standard of inclusivity because it excluded this young student who yearned to find out more about her own roots. So I gave her an alternative assignment. She could write about her own family. But because this was a Chicano History class, she would need to write a comparative paper that addressed the similarities and differences between her family’s journey and the Chicano historical experience.
The young lady wrote an excellent paper. The next year I included this more-inclusive comparative history option in my course syllabus. Lesson learned.
Then there is the issue of becoming trapped in history. History can serve as a force for liberation and progress. But it also can create a mental and emotional prison by shackling the process of thinking and feeling. As part of diversity renewal, we need to take charge of our approach to history.
I began last month’s column with my three-line, fifteen-word personal action mantras.
“Look unflinchingly at the past.
Apply it to the present.
Then pivot to the future.”
Diversity advocates should hone their ability to pivot from the past and present to the future. We should not allow history to foster a Groundhog Day comprised of endlessly recycling personal and group angsts. We should not let the study of history become an action-freezing process of historically “admiring the problem,” a concept I discussed in my last column.
Over the years I have observed diversity educators and trainers who encourage people to admire, re-admire, and further re-admire problems revealed by history. Like inequality or racism or oppression. Like intergenerational trauma. Like structures of inequality produced by history.
History can provide insights for analysis and change, but there becomes a point when obsessing about history becomes counter-productive. That point is reached when, instead of pivoting to the future in pursuit of effective action, we encourage people to continue wallowing in the past in order to cleanse their souls in the present. When it comes to pivoting to the future and actually making things better, such an approach contributes little to constructive change.
One of my ah-hah moments as a diversity educator came several decades ago when I was honored by being asked to co-facilitate a two-day educators’ retreat with my friend Vine Deloria, Jr. A noted Native American scholar, Deloria wrote the seminal book, Custer Died for Your Sins. In that book he illustrated the power of history to reveal, but then moved beyond history to address the future.
Moreover, Deloria didn’t just talk the talk. In our two days together he proverbially walked the walk. Whenever a participant would launch into ritualized whining about the terrible things that have been done to the American Indian, Vine would intervene and ask the F question: so what are you going to do about the future when it comes to Native Americans? He refused to allow participants to cleanse themselves with apologetic language and then walk away feeling that they had paid their restorative dues by confessing the sins of their forefathers. Deloria insisted on reflective action.
Let’s be honest. Probably most of the people reading this column are beneficiaries of settler colonialism by owning homes on land that once belonged to some Native American nation. I certainly am. But I’m not going to sell my home and give all of the money to Native people. Nor are you. That’s why superficial performative acts like calling for the eradication of settler colonialism ring so hollow. They don’t begin to meet Vine Deloria’s future-oriented challenge.
So let’s all become future-oriented historians. Let’s not simply pursue a better understanding of the past and recognize its impact on the present. Let’s move beyond historical wallowing, personal cleansing, and self-imprisoning. Let’s focus on drawing on historical awareness to drive an action-oriented future.
Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash
- Renewing Diversity #5: Wrestling with History –by Carlos Cortés - February 3, 2025
- Renewing Diversity #4: Pivoting to the Future – by Carlos Cortés - January 13, 2025
- Renewing Diversity #3: We Failed George Floyd – by Carlos Cortés - November 4, 2024