(Curators are a special breed of people. They bring together elements of scholarship, pedagogy and—I hate to say this but here goes—entertainment. I'm always fascinated by the choices they make, their mindset, their personality and how all that is expressed in an exhibit. In this vein, we welcome guest blogger Aimee Klask, curator of the Oakland Museum's
exhibit Aftershock, Voices from the 1906 Earthquake and Fire.)
I am ashamed to say, I have visited a few psychics in my life. Not one of them ever revealed to me that one day I would be the curator of an exhibition about the 1906 earthquake and fire
. When the exhibit was assigned to me, I thought to myself, “How am I going to make this exhibit interesting, it is a topic so many people think they already know and find boring.”
As I scoured the books pertaining to the subject and the collections housed at institutions, I was surprised by how only one type of story was presented over and over again—middle class white woman feels earthquake, sees refugees, and helps those who are displaced. The first time I read this type of account I thought it was interesting, but after the third and fourth time, ennui set in. I pondered, “Out of 200,000 people displaced by one of the disastrous fires in American history, there is only documentation from this small group of the population? That doesn’t seem right.” Then, when I was reading a recent publication about the disaster and the concealing of the story by officials, I came across a justification as to why non-white and non-middle class people were not documented in this book in an ‘author’s note,’ and let me quote from the source—“[d]espite making an extensive search and asking others for help, I was able to locate only a few accounts by low-income Anglos, Asians, and southern Europeans. Native Americans and Afro-Americans were minorities within a minority of color at the time. It was as if they hadn’t existed…These voices are absent for a number of reasons. Such persons (emphasis added) may not have been literate, or literate in English; they may have lacked a tradition of documenting personal experiences…” This was my call to arms!
Such persons? Not literate? Using the term Afro-Americans instead of African Americans in 2005? I couldn’t believe it! I decided that I would do the extra work and uncover these undocumented stories. Knowing that the official collections were not going to have what I was looking for, I started to ask people connected to the museum. I asked our History Interpretive Specialist, Carolee Smith, if she knew of an African American family who could trace their roots back to 1906. I contacted the Chinese Historical Society of America
located in San Francisco about their constituency. I went to our museum’s Latino Advisory Council, Asian Pacific Advisory Council, and African American Advisory Council in search of these untold stories. I also got connected to Taren Sapienza
, longtime coordinator of the Lotta’s Fountain annual event, to see if she knew of people who might want to share their story with me.
As I started to find people and family’s with diverse stories, I realized that the exhibit needed to show how these stories were not from random people; instead, these people were part of communities, all affected by the disaster. I asked the exhibit’s chief historical consultant, John Freeman, to put together a “Map of Diversity” showing the plurality of San Francisco’s population in 1906. It is one of the first graphics you see when entering the show and is one of my favorite elements of the exhibit. Along with the charting of these communities, the exhibit has personal stories panels highlighting the reality of the disaster and the perseverance of the human spirit. So save your money the next time a friend asks you to go see a psychic; instead, check out Aftershock! Voices from the 1906 Earthquake and Fire.