Editor’s note: This is the twenty-fifth entry in a series on how historians—especially contingent historians and those employed outside of tenure-track academia—do the work of history. If you know of someone we should interview, or would like to be interviewed yourself, send an email with the subject line HOW I DO HISTORY to pitches@contingentmag.org.
Sara Georgini standing in front of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Photo by Laura Wulf.
Sara Georgini (@sarageorgini on Twitter) is a public historian and series editor for The Papers of John Adams. Here’s how she does history.
What’s your current position? How long have you worked there?
I am the Series Editor of The Papers of John Adams, part of the Adams Papers editorial project based at the Massachusetts Historical Society (MHS) in Boston, where I have worked since 2008. I spent many joyful hours in the reading room scouring rare church records for my master’s thesis on revolutionary Anglicans, and when I heard of a job opening here, I leapt at it. Public history is my passion. Our goal at the Adams Papers is to bring people into dialogue with the past through primary sources. The Adams Papers comprise a quarter of a million manuscript pages, or 608 microfilm reels—all open for research onsite and online. We have the incredible opportunity to show and tell ten generations’ worth of the American experience, from the Declaration to disunion. The Adamses wrote for the archive, always hoping to be heard. Plus, they operated at the heart of American political and cultural power for more than two centuries. Curious and cosmopolitan, the globetrotting Adams family offers a backstage pass to American history.
Tell us about the MHS, the work it does and the people there.
The MHS is the nation’s first historical society, created in 1791 as a way to preserve early American manuscripts and artifacts relating to the Revolution. And then we kept on collecting, preserving, and communicating what we discovered. It’s a welcoming scholarly home to many. One of the many perks is that I see my fellow scholars as their projects grow and change, from that first call slip to a full-blown book talk. My MHS colleagues are endlessly curious about the treasures under this roof and always eager to share their finds. It’s real ensemble work, too. Psst, graduate programs: Sing the praises of humanities teamwork; good collaboration is a key skill. At MHS we have a steady symphony of work afoot in our public programs, donor events, new publications, researcher assistance, digital projects, National History Day support, and much more. Clocking in at MHS means taking to heart the American Historical Association’s terrific credo to broaden the definition of historical scholarship while nurturing engagement with diverse audiences. We think a lot about voices and choices: who “gets” to tell a narrative, and why. We also have the chance to change it, so finding and cultivating new interpretations is a daily goal.
Massachusetts Historical Society in Boston (Wikimedia Commons).
What’s your typical work day like?
Busy, busy, busy! Every day is unique in public history. Improvisation and skills dealing with the unexpected are a must. Right now, we are researching and writing annotations for new Adams Papers volumes featuring John Adams’ executive era, and planning how to index 18th-century worlds for 21st-century digital platforms. I may be teaching transcription workshops, visiting local classrooms to lecture on Franco-American relations, designing pop-up exhibits about Abigail Adams’ political views, or thinking through institutional plans for 250th anniversary events to be held in 2026. When I can, I’m sharing word of our archives with wide-ranging publications like Smithsonian.
Photo by Sara Georgini.
You’re the Series Editor for the Adams Papers Editorial Project. What does a Series Editor do and tell us about the Adams Papers? Why should scholars consult this source?
My job as Series Editor is to lead the research, writing, and production of every Papers of John Adams volume, every year. Here’s an inside look at our process. We’re currently in the Adams presidency (no spoilers, please!) so we’re focused on thinking about the relationship between executive and popular power. As we move from manuscript to book, we 1) create an authoritative transcription for scholars 2) provide annotation that puts peoples, places, and events in historical context and 3) make it all accessible through a clear, cogent index. We publish the diaries, letters, and papers of John and Abigail Adams and their descendants. But that’s not all. Our volumes chart changes in U.S.-Indigenous relations, foreign affairs, gender roles, and partisan politics. When the project began in the 1950s, editor Lyman H. Butterfield and his colleagues thought that making the papers available would set “a new north” for scholars. We still make that a main part of our mission, and we love to hear how people use the archives.
What is your earliest memory of a historical event?
One of the standout milestones was the pageantry and history of the Brooklyn Bridge centennial held in 1983. Growing up in beautiful Brooklyn, local history can be epic. I did the research, investing 10 cents in a previously owned National Geographic special issue at the local library. I did the marching, joining my fellow Girl Scouts in a citywide parade that sent us hopping and skittering over the unevenly patched bridge. The East River glittered deep and churned greenish below. Raucous crowds walled the streets to shout and cheer. Certainly, I earned my history badge that day, but what I remember most was the gleeful rush of curiosity in the months before and after the celebration. Where could I get more information about such a big moment in history? Who knew what really happened? And, yes, please tell me all about the woman (Emily Warren Roebling) who helped to build that bridge?
Boston University History Department. Photo by Sara Georgini.
Tell us about your undergraduate and graduate school experiences. Was history your main area of study?
Very grateful to say that I went to Boston University (BU) for it all: B.S. in print journalism, then a B.L.S., M.A., Ph.D. in history.
Was there a moment that made you want to study history or become a historian?
Winding careers can be a windfall for scholars, I think. After stints as a newspaper reporter and a Tiffany & Company sales professional, I returned to BU for a graduate degree. A Ph.D. meant time, money, and energy—originally that was not in the cards. Then, like so many others, my first year’s worth of hardcore reading pushed me to stick around and aim high for the doctorate. I often pin it to the late night/early morning that I spent reading Marc Bloch’s Feudal Society. It’s a gem of medieval insight and a wartime hymn to the power of reading the past in a nuclear age. Gleaming with details about the inner lives of vassals and their vendettas, of the medieval moment when village bonds hardened into class ties, Bloch’s analysis sold me on the idea that producing high-quality history for the “general” audience was/is an attainable goal. And what a writer! He laid low the paper wars of historiography and hoisted up the human aspects of history. There’s an amazing move Bloch makes early on, spinning you out from a stray knight’s stirrup into a realm where chains of allegiance hold together a very fragile world. All the senses are afire and an easy, readable narrative: I gaped at his skill. How’d he do that? I. Was. Hooked.
Tell us about your 2019 book, Household Gods.
One manuscript set my book in motion. In a July 1812 dispatch to Benjamin Rush, John Adams paused to reflect on the importance of keeping up a Christian worldview. “What has preserved this race of Adams’s in all their ramifications, in Such Numbers, health peace Comfort and Mediocrity?” he wrote. “I believe it is Religion. Without which they would have been Rakes Fops Sots Gamblers, Starved with hunger, frozen with Cold, Scalped by Indians &c &c &c been melted away and disappeared.” About a month into my work at the Adams Papers, routine transcription yielded a new story to investigate. Religious inquiry marked every part of their lives, and the Adamses contributed significantly to the intellectual ventures and cultural opportunities of the new nation. In order to understand how and why they did so for three centuries, I seized on John Adams’s cue to follow the family history of religion. Luckily, we have the archives for it. Plus, to trace a 300-year tale across continents and through cultures, I’m so grateful to the exquisitely maintained Adams National Historical Park and United First Parish Church for their resources.
Are you currently working on a new project?
Yes, Our Library in Paris (Oxford University Press, forthcoming). As librarians, spies, and educators, a unique staff has powered the American Library in Paris (ALP) since its 1920 founding. When German occupation constricted life in Paris, the ALP staff created an underground circulation system for Jewish readers, covertly running books door to door. To step inside and walk around in the library’s past is to realize how people read the conflict consuming Europe, and where they went to talk about the pressures of life in a new postwar world. Our Library in Paris shows how American women and men abroad relied on and shaped the federal government’s efforts to salvage French culture and promote free access to knowledge in the largest English-language lending library on the continent. Whether or not the library would endure World War II—and how political it became as an institution—sets it apart in American and French histories of the conflict. Our Library in Paris investigates why the American Library grew into a self-described “intellectual Red Cross” for war-torn Europe, how a small band of librarians battled Nazi rule and propaganda—and what came next.
It’s been an absolute joy to jump from early America to the 20th century. I hope readers will savor this saga and think about the critical role of libraries in history. Full of conflict, change, and community, libraries are louder than we might expect in history. Libraries are about so much more than the books they hold. They represent liberty of thought, open knowledge, and clear channels of communication between social groups. Libraries boost new ideas, lead culture, court controversy, and fight daily for freedoms. They are political institutions by nature. Far from a stodgy institutional history, this is the inside story of how a library brought liberty and light to Paris, in peace and war. Coming soon!
American Library in Paris Staff, April 10, 1940. Credit: Harcourt Studios, Paris, American Library in Paris Archives.
You’re a historian of Early America. For those interested in the field and wanting to learn more about it, what are some Early America history works/resources that have informed your work? Who are some historians that have inspired you?
Kudos to the entire Adams Papers team, and to documentary editors in general! My #BookSquad writing group is a font of wisdom, dispensing helpful edits and mint chip ice cream as needed: Liz Covart, Joe Adelman, Heather Cox Richardson, Karin Wulf, Caitlin Hopkins, Reed Gochberg, Megan Kate Nelson, Kevin Levin, Chris Parsons, Nina Silber, and Kate Grandjean. Check out and cite their scholarship! Last fall, I had the chance to sit down with another fantastic scholar, Stacy Schiff, to talk about the nuts and bolts of revolutionary biography. Here’s a look.
For you, what is the toughest part of tackling a research project?
Sifting through sources to build the story—that’s an eternal challenge as we workshop writing and implement feedback. Also, time and money! Working on the dissertation-to-book process was a real education in time management. I learned that I like to edit in the mornings, when I’m a little less caffeinated and a lot more ruthless with the text. Generally, I save new writing for the evening, so that the day ends in creation. I’d like to see more research fellowships built with contingent scholars in mind. Even a short absence to visit an archive can grow quite costly. We’re addressing this over at the Society for U.S. Intellectual History with the launch of our Community Scholars program in partnership with IUPUI’s Institute for American Thought. Research access is pivotal, especially for historians working beyond the traditional academy.
What’s the best advice you have received or tell people about conducting research?
Reading sources is the hardest thing we do. Persevere! Many moons ago, I read this sharp AHA post on the highways and byways of navigating archival research. After nearly 15 years at MHS, here are my top two tips:
- Strategize via catalog before you go. I like to group sources by collection, and within that, by author, so I have a sense of what one person is providing me with at a time. If a catalog says the collection is offsite, expect a multi-day wait. Always look for a finding aid to a big collection and know that if there’s microfilm available, you may be asked to start with reading that, not the original manuscript, for conservation’s sake. If there’s no finding aid, consult the reference staff to see if the library has a shelflist.
- Archive YOUR archive. However you save material, develop a workflow to your finds and hold fast to the process. A digital camera (no flash, no tripod is the general rule) will save you money in copy orders, and most microfilm readers have a handy “scan to email/flash drive” button. An iPad mini is a good archival investment, and you can use the camera app within the iPhone notes app to create, save, and send PDFs. N.B.: You may need to fill out a permission form as you go; the reading room staff will alert you. When I started doing research at MHS, I made compulsive notes with every document, but now that’s faded a bit. Often I take a free-form approach, just sitting and reading a collection intensively, then reflecting to see what sticks after a few hours. I keep a “later” file for items that are delightful finds but beyond the project at hand. As for whether you like OneNote or WunderList, there’s plenty of techie options to save, sync, and cloud-store research, but I find a lunchtime walk is the best way to review & organize research.
Tell us about your work for The Junto and S-USIH. What are they, and how can folks find out more about them?
We started The Junto: A Group Blog on Early American History as a way to publish scholarship, encourage community, and network with other early-career scholars. It’s due for a renaissance, for sure, given all the excellent new work I’ve been seeing in the field, and you can learn more here. Currently, I am proud to serve as president of the Society for U.S. Intellectual History, an organization that brings together scholars by providing dialogue and resources. Check out our award-winning blog, online reading lists and workshop materials, plus much more. We’d love to see you and your scholarship at our November 2023 conference in Denver, CFP due May 15. Ideas welcome!
How well did your particular history training prepare you for your work at Mass Historical?
BU is a terrific place to get a Ph.D. in history; faculty and fellow students were endlessly supportive of my choice to work in public history. I worked full-time at MHS throughout my entire Ph.D. career. Content-wise, I felt ready for the challenge. The program’s solid grounding in American, European, and African historiography was a great catalyst for deeper inquiry.
In a June 2, 1785, letter to John Jay, John Adams described his first meeting with King George III. Credit: Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
What do you think is the biggest misconception people have about what historians do and how they work?
Public history work is often more interdisciplinary than you might think, and cutting-edge research is ALWAYS on tap in libraries, archives, museums.
If money, time, or distance were not issues, what’s a dream project you’d love to tackle? Or a class you have always wanted to teach, but just haven’t had the opportunity to?
I’d love to team-teach with a local high school, reaching out to younger scholars who might be considering how to use history skills in an array of careers. We’re on the cusp of a major milestone in 2026 (250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence), and I’d love to see high school students “remix” the revolutionary age in exhibits, podcasts, or mini digital editions that star MHS collections and related archives. Or help them to recast Boston’s Freedom Trail(s) to talk about monuments, myths, and history-making. I think there’s great value in bringing some historical methods (gathering evidence, making arguments, reconciling narratives) into STEM, humanities, and language arts classrooms. More collaboration, please! That’s how I do history. Showing students that side of the field is critical for our future, as citizens and scholars.
If you weren’t a scholar, what other kind of work do you think you’d be doing?
Dancer! Ballet always focuses my mind and sparks different narrative paths as I dance.
Sara Georgini speaking at the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the U.S. Senate. Photo by Kanisorn Wongsrichanalai.