Connecting History
By Paige Figanbaum
On March 7, 2020, a childhood friend of mine came to visit. I took her shopping on the famous Las Vegas Strip. One to never pass up an opportunity to walk around the extravagant Caesars Palace Hotel, we jumped into my car, navigated the construction-ridden roads, and managed to find parking along the bustling Las Vegas Strip. After walking through the Bellagio Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, we entered Caesars Palace's Forum Shops, where I received a notification on my phone, "Reported cases of Coronavirus Disease (COVID-19) reported in Clark County." After showing my friend, she asked, "Do you think COVID-19 is serious?" I felt a sense of alarm in her question. The following week while walking on the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV) campus, I could feel anxiety and uneasiness of everyone moving forward into spring break. A few of my classmates, including myself, rushed to UNLV’s special collections in order to gather as much research as possible. We had no idea what the future held.
At the beginning of the semester, I purchased a plane ticket to visit my family during spring break. In the usual chaos of graduate school, it was difficult to fly back to my hometown in Iowa. I looked forward to relaxing during spring break. My goal was to organize research for the end of the semester projects, grade students' work, and enjoy being home with my family. While stuck in the airplane for three hours, I fixated on the thought of the uncertainty and impact the "COVID-19 virus," would have across campus. I knew UNLV would take the necessary precautions of closing campus for a week, possibly even two weeks, but I had no idea this would be the last time I stepped on campus in 2020.
Now What?
During spring break, as COVID-19 cases surged, the professor that I was a teaching assistant for emailed the cohort to quickly develop a game plan of converting our once in-person class to online. The five of us scrambled to figure out how to deliver an online curriculum for nearly 300 students. My main priority during spring break was creating assignments, discussion boards, and building reference guides for my students, who would now be online. I felt out of control as the world was affected by COVID-19 and changing rapidly. The only thing I could control was my ability to work on my research. As the week progressed, my classwork began to take center stage. My inbox quickly filled with multiple emails from professors looking for the best approach to working online. In addition to my class work and teaching I was working on the Walking Box Ranch Project with other students in my Public History class. We began emailing each other to determine the next steps for the Walking Box Ranch Project.
“View of the ranch house at Walking Box Ranch after addition was added,” 2010, UNLV Digital Collections. University of Nevada, Las Vegas Libraries, https://d.library.unlv.edu/digital/collection/box/id/375/rec/1 .
About a year before the pandemic and lockdowns, I was allowed the opportunity to work on the Walking Box Ranch Project. The 1930s silent film star Clara Bow and her husband, cowboy-film star Rex Bell, built the ranch in the desert west of Searchlight. Since 2004, UNLV’s Public History program has collaborated with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) to preserve and interpret the historic ranch and its objects. I joined in the summer of 2019 to assist in moving the collection to a new facility. One of the reasons why public history inspires me is that projects are never simple; they are usually multidimensional and lead you in different directions. What started as moving the collections to new locations, led to several opportunities to meet people, network with organizations, and eventually create a public history website, all while navigating the COVID-19 pandemic.
“Clara Bow (left) with Rex Bell (George Francis Beldam) (right) and Clara's horse at the Walking Box Ranch,” 2010, UNLV Digital Collections. University of Nevada, Las Vegas Libraries, https://d.library.unlv.edu/digital/collection/box/id/506/rec/16.
The Many Forms of History
My passion for history and museums originated from a visit to Chicago’s Field Museum when I was 10 years old. As I progressed in my schooling, museums became places where I could interact with history in new ways. Museums are public history sites where people come together and experience history. The objects provide a window into someone's life—a tangible item highlighting events and interactions among people and the environment. Public history projects that collect and preserve objects give insight into the past lives of others by linking the past, present, and future. This can be evidenced in the Walking Box Ranch Project.
Given the opportunity to work on the Walking Box Ranch Project was exciting. Since arriving in Las Vegas, it was my first chance to interact with important figures of Nevada's history. As the project progressed into the school year, the question of how to involve the public in experiencing the ranch and its rich history was discussed. Luckily, through the years of my growing interest in museums, I worked with traditional museum databases and understood the accessioning process embedded within public history work. In the spring semester, I began working within my Public History 750 class creating a website allowing the public to visit and engage with the ranch’s objects and material culture. The website would also include students’ past work on the project highlighting the ranch as a place of learning. I knew the site needed to be easily accessible and display the ranch's objects, research, and history.
Exhibiting The Ranch. Photo/Paige Figanbaum.
There are a plethora of website-building tools across the internet, but when working on public history projects, the needs and support of a website are unique. The website becomes a dimensional learning tool allowing people to learn, research, and engage with the ranch's history and the people who lived there. The website needed to house thousands of objects and have room to grow, all while living within a safe server. In order to develop a successful website and complete the project collaboration and communication is vital. Unfortunately, the pandemic did not allow the typical collaboration and means of communication as experienced in the past. My classmates and I needed to be creative and use innovative ways to collaborate and communicate.
The Art of Communication
When I received notice that the UNLV campus was closing due to the pandemic, my cohort and I began communicating what to do next. Part of the Walking Box Ranch Project was planning a future event that opened the ranch for the public to observe students’ projects. We tentatively called it Ranch Day. The day had to be cancelled and the question came to the forefront, “What now?” I was building the website, and other students were working on object research, exhibits, and tours. Meeting on campus or in the collections room was no longer an option to exchange ideas or problem-solve. As the weeks continued in lockdown, I felt oddly isolated. I was around my family but struggled connecting with classmates. The pandemic illustrated how vital constant communication is when working on public history projects. We exchanged messages asking questions or updating one another. Still, there was always a communication barrier. I struggled teaching people how to input their exhibit on the website or uploading photographs and other materials. One method I used was typing up directions in detail, but I would then receive messages asking specific questions illustrating that the directions were vague. The pandemic made me realize the importance of looking at things through other’s perspectives. Writing the directions, I made the mistake of assuming everyone had a similar foundational skill set of working with online formats. I quickly realized how this assumption was problematic. After a few attempts, I found that providing different forms of communication consistently was the key. Some students appreciated how directions were written step-by-step for uploading condition reports or editing the format of their exhibits. Others preferred speaking on the phone. A new source of communicating was Zoom meetings. These meetings became the key to school life, especially the "share screen" feature, which became my lifeline. Some students liked both formats but, working solely online caused a critical look in how I teach and communicate with others. Understanding how people learn in different ways has led me to re-examine the way I write, present my research, and teach.
Coming Together
The Walking Box Ranch. Photo/Paige Figanbaum.
As the pandemic continued, my classmates and I utilized Zoom meetings and emails to collaborate. The website became a place to exhibit student’s work. The ability to meet in person no longer existed, therefore the site allowed people to virtually interact with the Walking Box Ranch. Students started updating their exhibits and included different insights about Clara Bow, Rex Bell, the Ranch, and the Mojave Desert. The integrated objects were loaded with information, references, and photographs. A virtual walking tour of the ranch and the surrounding environment were added. After exploring alternative databases, OMEKA was the best fit to house the research. This database is an open-source content management system. It is created for public history projects to publish and exhibit cultural heritage objects. The website was published with a strong foundation of information and room to grow. The students in the class felt accomplished and celebrated in new fashion via Zoom.
It is not unique creating a website for a public history project, but during the middle of a pandemic the normalcy of collaborating in person quickly changed. The pandemic demonstrated how valuable digital projects are in presenting history through a new lens. The ability to work on something I am truly passionate about gave me a sense of normalcy during the pandemic. Progressing forward in the UNLV History Program, I have developed a new appreciation for presenting my research and knowledge in digital formats. The COVID-19 pandemic has been challenging for many, leaving lasting consequences. I feel it has pushed my comfort zone to present my research in distinctive formats. During lockdown, I explored different ways of communicating and was able to meet with friends, students, and professors even though I was 1,500 miles away from the UNLV campus. History allowed me to connect in a time when I felt isolated. Creating the Walking Box Ranch website allowed me to connect with history in a new way, and I felt less isolated.
“Walking Box Ranch front view.” Digital Image. Atlas Obscura. 2021. Accessed June 17, 2021. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/walking-box-ranch.
Photo/Paige Figanbaum.
Paige Figanbaum is a doctoral candidate at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the Post- Baccalaureate Program. Her research focuses on the development and perpetuating romanticized narratives of Nevada and the American Desert. Her work uses an interdisciplinary approach of environmental history and public history to study the American desert and the people who lived in the desert environment. Studying interpretation sites, Paige examines the stories and romanticized narratives projected in these sites that shape the American identity. She intends to deconstruct these spaces to center conversations and collaborate with communities to exhibit peoples' rich, diverse histories. Paige has been in the Public History Field for six years and developed a Public History Workshop at UNLV. She created an OMEKA website for relating to the Walking Box Ranch's historic landmark in Searchlight, Nevada. Her career goal is to become a Museum Director.
Prior to UNLV, she completed her B.A. in History, Public History from the University of Northern Iowa, in 2016. She has presented research across the United States and is the Nevada co-delegate for the Southwest Oral History Association.
Thank you for visiting Humanities Heart to Heart, a program of Nevada Humanities. Any views or opinions represented in posts or content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage are personal and belong solely to the author or contributor and do not represent those of Nevada Humanities, its staff, or any donor, partner, or affiliated organization, unless explicitly stated. At no time are these posts understood to promote particular political, religious, or ideological points of view; advocate for a particular program or social or political action; or support specific public policies or legislation on behalf of Nevada Humanities, its staff, any donor, partner, or affiliated organization. Omissions, errors, or mistakes are entirely unintentional. Nevada Humanities makes no representations as to the accuracy or completeness of any information on these posts or found by following any link embedded in these posts. Nevada Humanities reserves the right to alter, update, or remove content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage at any time.