I am proud to say that at the close of my internship this week, I completed arrangement of the Financial series, cleared up some confusion in the Photographs series, cleaned up minor issues that I had set aside along the way, and began some refoldering work--it's all downhill from here! Though I will not be 100% finished processing Mystery Writers of America mss. by the time my internship officially ends next week, I feel really good about the progress I made thus far, given that this is the third collection (a decently sizable one at that) I will have worked on over the course of less than five months. All the difficult work is largely finished, and what remains is brushing up the collection description, building the collection level catalog record, chronologically arranging all correspondence as per Lilly Library popular practice, and physically rehousing each folder of materials.
Rehousing will entail hand-labeling new folders and building new, archival quality boxes which will be best for long term preservation. These activities are in line with professional ethics, though rehousing is not a uniform practice across all repositories. For example, at some institutions, I know that refoldering is not always an option given budgetary constraints and the time required to hand-label each one. I am admittedly not a preservation expert by any means, but from what I understand in layman's terms: Acid free folders are ideal as buffers to control acidic paper's deleterious effects on surrounding papers. Documents made with highly acidic ingredients (i.e. most of those produced in the late 19th through mid twentieth centuries) releases acidic compounds, which may cause surrounding papers to become brittle. However, as I learned from my whirlwind day at the IU Preservation lab, acid free folders do not actually stop acidic deterioration. Simply because papers are stored inside an acid free folder does not mean that they are protected from one another, as no buffers exist directly between individual items. Rehousing in acid free folders does, however, provide some peace of mind in knowing that storage materials are not contributing additional harm to collection contents, and they also give a clean, polished look to a collection. Though appearances don't necessarily contribute to preservation objectives, they do appeal to donors and users, representing that a repository cares for its collections.
I am not exactly looking forward to the laborious penciled labeling of new folders, however I am excited about the final product which will debut as a fully processed collection in the not so distant future. I plan to finish up my processing work with Mystery Writers of America mss. after the semester closes. Over all the hours we've spent bonding together--looking at old photos from the organization's youth, peering in at intimate monetary details, and watching the group's overall development from a small group of like-minded authors to a comparatively renowned organization with members from all corners of the United States--I want to see the collection through to completion. This also seems wise, as I imagine it will be much easier for me than for anyone else to compose the collection description and catalog record content since I've spend so much time with the materials. Because I am still busy on the job-hunting front, I'll be living in Bloomington possibly as long as late July, so I will volunteer at the Lilly (at least) one day per week. With work at the IU Archives, volunteering at the Lilly, volunteering at Wylie House Museum, and applying for jobs, I will most definitely have no problem staying busy, though I also hope to spend a bit of time enjoying the outdoor air.
That's all for right now. I'll post a few more collection photos over the weekend!
Amy
Friday, April 22, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Week Fourteen: The Dreaded Financial Series
Well, I finally caved. Despite my skillful month+ long avoidance of the six dreaded boxes of Mystery Writers of America financial materials, last week I had to "man up" and face the folders of bills, envelopes bursting with canceled checks or deposit slips, booklets full of account stubs, and ledgers galore. My initial reluctance to deal with these materials stems from the stigma that my mind must have attached to finances. No, they aren't pretty. The stationary is never ornate (at least not these from second-half of the twentieth century). It's also highly unlikely that I would happen across any juicy or otherwise thought provoking details while flipping through to gauge general folder contents and date ranges, as I often do with materials of other genres. Financial records, at least in my opinion, are not necessarily interesting in an overt or otherwise independent sense. However, surely I understand that when considered as a group or in tangent with other related documents, their evidential value can potentially shed insightful light on the practices and interests of the record creating/compiling body. For this reason, the Lilly desires to retain all financial records--regardless of how minute.
I believe I mentioned a few posts back that the Indiana University Archives, where I also work as a processor, has appraisal policies which dictate the exclusion of financially oriented items such as significant volumes of itemized receipts or account statements. Major financial documents (such as annual budgets or statements which provide a broad overview of financial standings) are retained because they can say a lot about an organization or person without taking up significant space; itemized financial documents tend to accumulate quite quickly! However, I sense that the IU Archives, which documents institutional memory in relation to departments, specific people, or groups affiliated with the University, rejects detailed financial records to avoid voluminous duplication of information shared among multiple collections, as well as because informational value is generally extremely low among these documents. Even the evidential value fades after significant time passes, when weighed against processing time and precious shelf space. Because so few reference requests come in to the Archives in regards to financial information (i.e. to what charities Prof. So-and-so donated in what specific amounts in December of 1963, or how much an academic department spent on coffee for the break room each week from 1952-1976), and because navigating disorganized financial records can be incredibly taxing, it further makes sense to me that this is one content area that is easy to justify not retaining.
Still, I can see why these records will be saved in regards to the Mystery Writers of America mss. at the Lilly. For one, the organization is much smaller than something so big as an entire university system. MWA has only been in existence since 1945, and the Lilly currently holds its entire inactive administrative record. In this situation, financial details documenting the group's formative years and those from subsequent decades may play a worthwhile role in preserving the organization's history. I hope that this rational does, in fact, sound rational. It seems a bit hard to articulate, though it all makes sense in my head (very reassuring, I know).
Anyhow, any attempt at theory aside, I spent the week wrapping up series arrangement and got a good start on wrangling the financial documents. The hardest part about processing this series for me is determining document genres. I try to mentally recreate the business processes of the organization--the cycle of disbursements, receipts of payment, various avenues of funding--but in the end, sometimes it's easier to leave a bit of that up to the researcher. When obvious, I retained folder titles as they were written upon arrival. For items such as unlabeled ledgers, I chose to err on the side of caution and arranged all of these chronologically, though some ledgers overlap and were obviously kept to document different purposes. This made sense to me, however, because from the average researcher's perspective, it seems easier to approach things chronologically than categorically for a more holistic approach. The collection is also still small enough that having to do a little digging wouldn't be too arduous. Overall, this "think like a researcher" strategy has been very helpful with my processing projects, especially when I let my nit-picky perfectionism start to take over and need to ground myself in terms of what the real goals and expectations are in description and categorical analysis.
I anticipate that I will complete arrangement of the financial series during week Fifteen, after which I'll clean up my inventory a bit (I have a horrible "notes to self" habit), then send it along to Craig and Cherry. After the inventory's official approval, I can start on refoldering and reboxing. There are a few items set aside for the Preservation department to address (two fragile scrapbooks, the brittle 100+ year old pulp magazines, and some oversized newspapers; more on all that next week). At this point, I doubt that all this will be completed by the end of the semester, but you never know! As usual, I'll keep you updated. Either way, the Mystery Writers of America mss. is well on its way to intellectual arrangement, description, and access! What a beautiful archival cycle.
Amy
PS: One more article abstract to come... and hopefully some more photos to round out the semester.
I believe I mentioned a few posts back that the Indiana University Archives, where I also work as a processor, has appraisal policies which dictate the exclusion of financially oriented items such as significant volumes of itemized receipts or account statements. Major financial documents (such as annual budgets or statements which provide a broad overview of financial standings) are retained because they can say a lot about an organization or person without taking up significant space; itemized financial documents tend to accumulate quite quickly! However, I sense that the IU Archives, which documents institutional memory in relation to departments, specific people, or groups affiliated with the University, rejects detailed financial records to avoid voluminous duplication of information shared among multiple collections, as well as because informational value is generally extremely low among these documents. Even the evidential value fades after significant time passes, when weighed against processing time and precious shelf space. Because so few reference requests come in to the Archives in regards to financial information (i.e. to what charities Prof. So-and-so donated in what specific amounts in December of 1963, or how much an academic department spent on coffee for the break room each week from 1952-1976), and because navigating disorganized financial records can be incredibly taxing, it further makes sense to me that this is one content area that is easy to justify not retaining.
Still, I can see why these records will be saved in regards to the Mystery Writers of America mss. at the Lilly. For one, the organization is much smaller than something so big as an entire university system. MWA has only been in existence since 1945, and the Lilly currently holds its entire inactive administrative record. In this situation, financial details documenting the group's formative years and those from subsequent decades may play a worthwhile role in preserving the organization's history. I hope that this rational does, in fact, sound rational. It seems a bit hard to articulate, though it all makes sense in my head (very reassuring, I know).
Anyhow, any attempt at theory aside, I spent the week wrapping up series arrangement and got a good start on wrangling the financial documents. The hardest part about processing this series for me is determining document genres. I try to mentally recreate the business processes of the organization--the cycle of disbursements, receipts of payment, various avenues of funding--but in the end, sometimes it's easier to leave a bit of that up to the researcher. When obvious, I retained folder titles as they were written upon arrival. For items such as unlabeled ledgers, I chose to err on the side of caution and arranged all of these chronologically, though some ledgers overlap and were obviously kept to document different purposes. This made sense to me, however, because from the average researcher's perspective, it seems easier to approach things chronologically than categorically for a more holistic approach. The collection is also still small enough that having to do a little digging wouldn't be too arduous. Overall, this "think like a researcher" strategy has been very helpful with my processing projects, especially when I let my nit-picky perfectionism start to take over and need to ground myself in terms of what the real goals and expectations are in description and categorical analysis.
I anticipate that I will complete arrangement of the financial series during week Fifteen, after which I'll clean up my inventory a bit (I have a horrible "notes to self" habit), then send it along to Craig and Cherry. After the inventory's official approval, I can start on refoldering and reboxing. There are a few items set aside for the Preservation department to address (two fragile scrapbooks, the brittle 100+ year old pulp magazines, and some oversized newspapers; more on all that next week). At this point, I doubt that all this will be completed by the end of the semester, but you never know! As usual, I'll keep you updated. Either way, the Mystery Writers of America mss. is well on its way to intellectual arrangement, description, and access! What a beautiful archival cycle.
Amy
PS: One more article abstract to come... and hopefully some more photos to round out the semester.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Article Abstract - "Maximal Processing, or Archivist on a Pale Horse"
While browsing through several journals in search of relatively recent articles written about processing in archives, I came across Robert S. Cox's article entitled "Maximal Processing, or, Archivist on a Pale Horse," as published in the Journal of Archival Organization in 2010 (Vol. 8, Issue 2). For some reason this particular journal has thus far eluded my serious attention. I often find articles in SAA's American Archivist and ACA's Archivaria, but I'm definitely going to add this journal onto my repertoire of sources. It is a relatively new publication, the first volume of which debuted in 2002. From my initial browsing, it looks like the journal covers a lot of practical topics that may be really valuable for easily accessible professional advice on the job. I wonder how long my database access will prevail post-graduation! (Fingers crossed)
Anyhow, the article is a reactionary piece to the pervasively sited Greene and Meissner article "More Product, Less Process: Revamping Traditional Archival Processing," which started a bit of a revolution in processing theory and practice. For anyone unfamiliar, More Product, Less Process (MPLP) is a strategy by which archivists minimally process collections to maximize access by potential users. Levels of processing may vary, but collection level description is the standard absolute minimum, preferably accompanied by an inventory of folders. MPLP was largely embraced for its realistic answer to reducing unprocessed backlogs with respect to financial constraints and limited staffing. In his "Maximal Processing..." article, Cox argues for a modification of MPLP that he thinks more appropriately in line with archival ethics and long-term goals.
The article starts off with a metaphor aboutAlbert Pinkham Ryder's master paining, The Race Track (Death on a Pale Horse), which features the grim reaper on horseback winding around a race track. This was an interesting approach by which to broach the subject; it helps align archival history with a visual metaphor and forces readers to think creatively from the outset--something that I believe is difficult when confronting MPLP with a critical lens, due to its widespread appeal. From this metaphor, Cox explains the symbolic meaning of the image in terms of "amnesiac" professional habits:
"...those of us who do not learn from the past are condemned to reinvent it, and we have driven ever onward, wielding our sharpest technologies as we visit and revisit a suite of seemingly irresolvable tensions at the core of our profession: tensions between technological innovation and technological gaps, between the desire for uniformity in standards and the need to accommodate diversity in our collections and researchers, the tension between our ideals and the realities of our resources." (pg. 135).
As the article progresses, it becomes apparent that Cox is warning archivists against following MPLP simply because it has become the current trend. Minimally processed collections across the board may be creating yet another inaccessible backlog of materials that require further processing in order to make materials accessible to users in a feasible manner. To combat this threat, Cox proposes his own strategy, deemed "maximal processing." A variation on rather than opposition to MPLP, maximal processing considers record collection context in the processing plan. It recognizes that description does not exist in a vacuum and because of this takes the full range of professional activities and responsibilities into account in deciding how best to process each individual collection.
In the section of the article entitled "Life on the Minimum," Cox explains the details of MPLP. He certainly does not criticize the rational behind it, but he does point out weak points including archivists' current tendency to perhaps go too far in foregoing rearrangement in the name of prudent economic and temporal judgment. He also touches upon recent trends to seek reduction in description costs, including crowd sourcing and "wikified" finding aids, in which archival users play a role in providing collection context. He does not explicitly point out why these tactics may not be the best choices (surely I could give an argument for either side), but his later emphasis on using sound professional judgment in descriptive practices leads me to believe that he is not a large proponent of user-generated metadata. However, Cox does mention Christine Weideman's (Yale University) strategy to inquire for description and potentially arrangement from donors, many of whom are often eager to discuss the contents of their collections (pg. 137). The section concludes with Cox's criticism that under MPLP, every collection is treated identically at a minimal level, which is essentially leading the profession to a loss of connection with products, services, and patrons.
In the next section, "Truth and Consequences," Cox analyzes the impact that minimal processing decisions will have on our ability to function as archivists in the traditional sense, as well as users' ability to connect with the materials which they seek. He weighs all of this in terms of external costs accrued through complex relationships on the practical, professional, ethical and social levels with other archivists, institution administrators and other coworkers, donors, researchers, the public, etc. According to Cox, minimal processing will cause strains for all of these relationships, thus increasing the external costs and equalizing or even tipping the scales on internal costs saved through minimal processing (more in, more out, less time, less staff). I thought that this was an incredibly insightful way to frame the processing dilemma. It is often difficult for me to itemize costs which are lack direct monetary value, however it is obvious that all of the aforementioned in total will have a serious affect. Minimal appraisal, a relatively hands-off management of privacy rights, reduced intellectual control resulting in difficulty providing reference assistance, preservation concerns going unresolved, reduced job satisfaction... the list goes on and on, but the sum total adds up to one serious potential hazard for the future of the profession.
Cox explains the various costs in detail, emphasizing that the effect will be an exponential one as time goes on. Some points that resonated with strength for me include his commentary on researchers' difficulty approaching a collection that is minimally described. I speak from experience when I say that an inconclusive collection level description is not always encouraging for the prospects of researchers to take the initiative to physically delve into the unknown depths of generalizedboxes. Though a collection itself may technically shed its status as "hidden" as soon as it is described at a basic level and launched on a repository's database, the contents themselves remain a mystery. Researchers, especially students (yes, I am generalizing here) frequently operate on a level of complacency. If a collection description fails to explicitly satisfy his or her research interests, it is highly probable that this collection will be passed over, even if it harbors potential. Furthermore, even when a basic inventory is created for a collection which is not rearranged into an intellectual order during archival processing, it may not satisfy the shift in historians' interests toward cultural moments and ideas and away from solid names or places which are more likely to appear in an archival inventory. "Thick description" is a potential solution to elucidate otherwise "hidden" themes, connections, and subject matter cover by collection materials, thus he supports this practice in maximal processing.
Cox brings up another great point in terms of archives as a marketing tool. When archivists themselves do not have an intimate knowledge of collections, it is difficult to effectively market holdings and services. We may be steering ourselves toward a profession where we are merely the point of access for information, rather than collection navigators and interpreters.
One more point that Cox brings up is something that I had not yet considered: the idea that researchers choose archives by way of geographic convenience and other personal interests outside of collections themselves. "Because research projects typically span geographical, conceptual, or personal borders, because we have such a rich, varies, and highly distributed historical record in the United States, and because researchers approach questions from any number of novel perspectives, most of us are, as archives, replaceable." The horror! But in all seriousness, Cox makes a good point. Our patron base operates on subjectivity and choice; we must work to make collections accessible and descriptively appealing in the interests of maintaining viability as active repositories.
The final section of the article, "Maximal Processing: The Model," describes Cox's ideal processing model in detail; from what I gather, his model mirrors the process he put in practice at his own institution, the University of Massachusetts. He begins similarly to MPLP, with a "phase one" survey method of all archival collections within his own repository, which proved effectively in raising use of a number of previously "hidden" collections; this is known as pre-description. Basic two paragraph abstracts are composed for each collection, and these descriptions (all EAD compatible) are launched into a searchable database. Post-survey, after all backlogs have been basically described, Cox suggests adjusting work flow to incorporate basic descriptions at the point of accession.
The "phase two" of maximal processing, which does not appear in MPLP, involves all collections being placed in a queue for full processing at the level ideal for each individual collection. Priorities for full processing are weighed by the archivist and may include donor relations, research interest, and exhibit or marketing potential. At this stage, processing involves appraisal, arrangement, and description (generally at folder level) pursued with respect to financial costs and professional interests. Cox believes that arrangement and description are key in making collections accessible for researchers. Furthermore, he does not lay out a definitive processing strategy, rather Cox urges archivists to use best judgment informed by academic training and archival experience. Subjective guidelines such as these are difficult to approach and may be interpreted differently depending upon the individual, but this is also the whole point. Archivists must individually weigh all priorities and abilities in assessment of processing goals on a collection by collection basis.
Cox sites a third step, "post-description," in which collection descriptions are continually reassessed for and dynamically changed as a result of changes in professional descriptive standards, technologies, and historical practice. This will not not always be a feasible option given the strain already placed on archivists' abilities to manage collection building, processing, and services, however it's something that needs to remain a possibility. Archives, history, and documentation formats are not static. The world is constantly in flux and development, and we as a profession must anticipate and react to changes in the name of archival duties and ethics.
In conclusion, Cox rehashes many of his points and offers a final commentary on lexicon: "The word minimum is a clarion for our limitations and for what we cannot do; maximum shines a light on the goals to which we aspire" (page 147). However poetic and idealistic, I appreciate Cox's metaphors and idealism. As a profession, we cannot expect to thrive unless we critically examine, fine tune, and attempt to perfect our practices to the best of our abilities in respect to finances, time, technology, and ethics. I have always been a proponent of the "nothing is black and white" perspective, and I believe that maximum processing is also a reflection upon that theory. MPLP is not an end all approach to archives in the twenty-first century, but it remains a respected, effective method of processing toward a unified goal for access to which modifications informed by sound individual professional judgment may be added for a more dynamic and fruitful archival future.
Anyhow, the article is a reactionary piece to the pervasively sited Greene and Meissner article "More Product, Less Process: Revamping Traditional Archival Processing," which started a bit of a revolution in processing theory and practice. For anyone unfamiliar, More Product, Less Process (MPLP) is a strategy by which archivists minimally process collections to maximize access by potential users. Levels of processing may vary, but collection level description is the standard absolute minimum, preferably accompanied by an inventory of folders. MPLP was largely embraced for its realistic answer to reducing unprocessed backlogs with respect to financial constraints and limited staffing. In his "Maximal Processing..." article, Cox argues for a modification of MPLP that he thinks more appropriately in line with archival ethics and long-term goals.
The article starts off with a metaphor aboutAlbert Pinkham Ryder's master paining, The Race Track (Death on a Pale Horse), which features the grim reaper on horseback winding around a race track. This was an interesting approach by which to broach the subject; it helps align archival history with a visual metaphor and forces readers to think creatively from the outset--something that I believe is difficult when confronting MPLP with a critical lens, due to its widespread appeal. From this metaphor, Cox explains the symbolic meaning of the image in terms of "amnesiac" professional habits:
"...those of us who do not learn from the past are condemned to reinvent it, and we have driven ever onward, wielding our sharpest technologies as we visit and revisit a suite of seemingly irresolvable tensions at the core of our profession: tensions between technological innovation and technological gaps, between the desire for uniformity in standards and the need to accommodate diversity in our collections and researchers, the tension between our ideals and the realities of our resources." (pg. 135).
As the article progresses, it becomes apparent that Cox is warning archivists against following MPLP simply because it has become the current trend. Minimally processed collections across the board may be creating yet another inaccessible backlog of materials that require further processing in order to make materials accessible to users in a feasible manner. To combat this threat, Cox proposes his own strategy, deemed "maximal processing." A variation on rather than opposition to MPLP, maximal processing considers record collection context in the processing plan. It recognizes that description does not exist in a vacuum and because of this takes the full range of professional activities and responsibilities into account in deciding how best to process each individual collection.
In the section of the article entitled "Life on the Minimum," Cox explains the details of MPLP. He certainly does not criticize the rational behind it, but he does point out weak points including archivists' current tendency to perhaps go too far in foregoing rearrangement in the name of prudent economic and temporal judgment. He also touches upon recent trends to seek reduction in description costs, including crowd sourcing and "wikified" finding aids, in which archival users play a role in providing collection context. He does not explicitly point out why these tactics may not be the best choices (surely I could give an argument for either side), but his later emphasis on using sound professional judgment in descriptive practices leads me to believe that he is not a large proponent of user-generated metadata. However, Cox does mention Christine Weideman's (Yale University) strategy to inquire for description and potentially arrangement from donors, many of whom are often eager to discuss the contents of their collections (pg. 137). The section concludes with Cox's criticism that under MPLP, every collection is treated identically at a minimal level, which is essentially leading the profession to a loss of connection with products, services, and patrons.
In the next section, "Truth and Consequences," Cox analyzes the impact that minimal processing decisions will have on our ability to function as archivists in the traditional sense, as well as users' ability to connect with the materials which they seek. He weighs all of this in terms of external costs accrued through complex relationships on the practical, professional, ethical and social levels with other archivists, institution administrators and other coworkers, donors, researchers, the public, etc. According to Cox, minimal processing will cause strains for all of these relationships, thus increasing the external costs and equalizing or even tipping the scales on internal costs saved through minimal processing (more in, more out, less time, less staff). I thought that this was an incredibly insightful way to frame the processing dilemma. It is often difficult for me to itemize costs which are lack direct monetary value, however it is obvious that all of the aforementioned in total will have a serious affect. Minimal appraisal, a relatively hands-off management of privacy rights, reduced intellectual control resulting in difficulty providing reference assistance, preservation concerns going unresolved, reduced job satisfaction... the list goes on and on, but the sum total adds up to one serious potential hazard for the future of the profession.
Cox explains the various costs in detail, emphasizing that the effect will be an exponential one as time goes on. Some points that resonated with strength for me include his commentary on researchers' difficulty approaching a collection that is minimally described. I speak from experience when I say that an inconclusive collection level description is not always encouraging for the prospects of researchers to take the initiative to physically delve into the unknown depths of generalizedboxes. Though a collection itself may technically shed its status as "hidden" as soon as it is described at a basic level and launched on a repository's database, the contents themselves remain a mystery. Researchers, especially students (yes, I am generalizing here) frequently operate on a level of complacency. If a collection description fails to explicitly satisfy his or her research interests, it is highly probable that this collection will be passed over, even if it harbors potential. Furthermore, even when a basic inventory is created for a collection which is not rearranged into an intellectual order during archival processing, it may not satisfy the shift in historians' interests toward cultural moments and ideas and away from solid names or places which are more likely to appear in an archival inventory. "Thick description" is a potential solution to elucidate otherwise "hidden" themes, connections, and subject matter cover by collection materials, thus he supports this practice in maximal processing.
Cox brings up another great point in terms of archives as a marketing tool. When archivists themselves do not have an intimate knowledge of collections, it is difficult to effectively market holdings and services. We may be steering ourselves toward a profession where we are merely the point of access for information, rather than collection navigators and interpreters.
One more point that Cox brings up is something that I had not yet considered: the idea that researchers choose archives by way of geographic convenience and other personal interests outside of collections themselves. "Because research projects typically span geographical, conceptual, or personal borders, because we have such a rich, varies, and highly distributed historical record in the United States, and because researchers approach questions from any number of novel perspectives, most of us are, as archives, replaceable." The horror! But in all seriousness, Cox makes a good point. Our patron base operates on subjectivity and choice; we must work to make collections accessible and descriptively appealing in the interests of maintaining viability as active repositories.
The final section of the article, "Maximal Processing: The Model," describes Cox's ideal processing model in detail; from what I gather, his model mirrors the process he put in practice at his own institution, the University of Massachusetts. He begins similarly to MPLP, with a "phase one" survey method of all archival collections within his own repository, which proved effectively in raising use of a number of previously "hidden" collections; this is known as pre-description. Basic two paragraph abstracts are composed for each collection, and these descriptions (all EAD compatible) are launched into a searchable database. Post-survey, after all backlogs have been basically described, Cox suggests adjusting work flow to incorporate basic descriptions at the point of accession.
The "phase two" of maximal processing, which does not appear in MPLP, involves all collections being placed in a queue for full processing at the level ideal for each individual collection. Priorities for full processing are weighed by the archivist and may include donor relations, research interest, and exhibit or marketing potential. At this stage, processing involves appraisal, arrangement, and description (generally at folder level) pursued with respect to financial costs and professional interests. Cox believes that arrangement and description are key in making collections accessible for researchers. Furthermore, he does not lay out a definitive processing strategy, rather Cox urges archivists to use best judgment informed by academic training and archival experience. Subjective guidelines such as these are difficult to approach and may be interpreted differently depending upon the individual, but this is also the whole point. Archivists must individually weigh all priorities and abilities in assessment of processing goals on a collection by collection basis.
Cox sites a third step, "post-description," in which collection descriptions are continually reassessed for and dynamically changed as a result of changes in professional descriptive standards, technologies, and historical practice. This will not not always be a feasible option given the strain already placed on archivists' abilities to manage collection building, processing, and services, however it's something that needs to remain a possibility. Archives, history, and documentation formats are not static. The world is constantly in flux and development, and we as a profession must anticipate and react to changes in the name of archival duties and ethics.
In conclusion, Cox rehashes many of his points and offers a final commentary on lexicon: "The word minimum is a clarion for our limitations and for what we cannot do; maximum shines a light on the goals to which we aspire" (page 147). However poetic and idealistic, I appreciate Cox's metaphors and idealism. As a profession, we cannot expect to thrive unless we critically examine, fine tune, and attempt to perfect our practices to the best of our abilities in respect to finances, time, technology, and ethics. I have always been a proponent of the "nothing is black and white" perspective, and I believe that maximum processing is also a reflection upon that theory. MPLP is not an end all approach to archives in the twenty-first century, but it remains a respected, effective method of processing toward a unified goal for access to which modifications informed by sound individual professional judgment may be added for a more dynamic and fruitful archival future.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Week Thirteen: Addressing Loose Ends in Arrangement
Week thirteen came and went. Despite my claim for what has probably been two weeks now that I am "almost finished" with initial arrangement of Mystery Writers of America mss., I still have a little ways to go before I can call this step complete. I continue to avoid the financial series, as I wanted to solidify the rest of the arrangement before delving into it. This past week, I remembered that I had neglected to address a few more boxes which were not included in the inventory with which the collection was accessioned. I initially put off arranging the materials in these boxes, as their processing would be pretty straightforward.
The boxes contained publications (The Third Degree newsletter and Mystery Writers Annual), manuscripts for several MWA anthologies published within the last five years, and some random loose papers--also created within the most recent few years. I just had to basically sort everything, type up the inventory, and physically arrange materials to match the assigned intellectual order. The publications were a breeze; despite not having a complete run of these materials, it was all chronological order. None of these items were foldered as of yet, so I'll have to see what Craig prefers--one folder per issue, or several issues per folder. It's really just a question of time, resources, and whether or not item level foldering will be ideal for collection navigation and access in the future.
The manuscripts were a bit trickier. This is my first experience with this realm of materials. I got a bit turned around on the terminology (proof vs. copy edit vs. shelf copy) and couldn't always tell in what order the revisions took place, though in the end, it shouldn't be a big issue. So long as my descriptions adhere to the characteristics and identification provided on the documents themselves, it will be up to the researcher to determine the progression of edits.
The loose papers proved a bit more of a challenge, as did the infamous "question" pile where I designated all folders I wasn't so sure about. The loose papers were largely unrelated to one another, so it didn't seem to make sense to lump them all together. However, there was a group related to Edgar awards from recent years which I lumped together. Other loose papers obviously fit in with other topics covered in the collection, and I was quickly able to configure their appropriate placement within the existing series. The "question" pile proved a bit more of a problem. It turned out that all the folders I set aside were labeled "Miscellaneous," "Untitled," or "Loose Papers"--not exactly informative for researchers! Most contained a myriad of documents through which I could not detect any overarching theme. However, my own inability to understand the material groupings should not supersede. In the interests of retaining original order for any intellectual value the documents may have specifically in relation to one another as presently grouped, Craig advised me to assign generalized titles, while noting major portions of the contents [i.e. Correspondence, general, 1973-1984 (includes related clippings, administrative memos, and financial documents)]. Surely such a description still leaves much of the folder contents "hidden" while browsing the finding aid, but it's a legitimate compromise in the interests of melding professional ethics with the realities of time and resources.
Aside from setting a few folders aside to send to preservation (some tragically brittle pulp mystery magazines from the 1890s), now my next step is to physically arrange the series in the proper integrated order. Right now I have boxes for each series, but they are independent from one another. I'll also finally come to terms with the (dare I say dreaded?) financial materials. It's an exciting time to be a processor nearing the end of the arrangement tunnel!
In other news, a shameless plug: to anyone on the Indiana University campus who has a little extra time in his/her schedule during the next two weeks, consider stopping by the Lilly Library's Lincoln Room to view my exhibit entitled "Paul Weatherwax and Zea mays: IU Professor and Pioneer in Holistic Study of the Corn Plant"! Curated as a project for my SLIS Manuscripts course, the exhibit features highlights from Weatherwax mss, the papers of a celebrated Indiana University botanist who researched and published prolifically during the mid-twentieth century on the topic of corn origins, both morphological and anthropological. I will take some photos following the exhibit installation tomorrow afternoon!
That's all for now. My article abstract on RDA and its influence on Archives will be posted in the next couple week, but I plan to abstract on Robert Cox's article entitled "Maximal Processing; or, Archivist on a Pale Horse" in the next few days. It's an interesting reactionary piece to Greene and Meissner's much heralded "more produce less process" approach to archives work.
Equally important, I hope you're enjoying the onset of spring! Bloomington is certainly beautiful this time of year--that is when one does not find him or herself confined to a windowless processing space. I'm convinced that just makes me appreciate sunshine more when I can get it!
The boxes contained publications (The Third Degree newsletter and Mystery Writers Annual), manuscripts for several MWA anthologies published within the last five years, and some random loose papers--also created within the most recent few years. I just had to basically sort everything, type up the inventory, and physically arrange materials to match the assigned intellectual order. The publications were a breeze; despite not having a complete run of these materials, it was all chronological order. None of these items were foldered as of yet, so I'll have to see what Craig prefers--one folder per issue, or several issues per folder. It's really just a question of time, resources, and whether or not item level foldering will be ideal for collection navigation and access in the future.
The manuscripts were a bit trickier. This is my first experience with this realm of materials. I got a bit turned around on the terminology (proof vs. copy edit vs. shelf copy) and couldn't always tell in what order the revisions took place, though in the end, it shouldn't be a big issue. So long as my descriptions adhere to the characteristics and identification provided on the documents themselves, it will be up to the researcher to determine the progression of edits.
The loose papers proved a bit more of a challenge, as did the infamous "question" pile where I designated all folders I wasn't so sure about. The loose papers were largely unrelated to one another, so it didn't seem to make sense to lump them all together. However, there was a group related to Edgar awards from recent years which I lumped together. Other loose papers obviously fit in with other topics covered in the collection, and I was quickly able to configure their appropriate placement within the existing series. The "question" pile proved a bit more of a problem. It turned out that all the folders I set aside were labeled "Miscellaneous," "Untitled," or "Loose Papers"--not exactly informative for researchers! Most contained a myriad of documents through which I could not detect any overarching theme. However, my own inability to understand the material groupings should not supersede. In the interests of retaining original order for any intellectual value the documents may have specifically in relation to one another as presently grouped, Craig advised me to assign generalized titles, while noting major portions of the contents [i.e. Correspondence, general, 1973-1984 (includes related clippings, administrative memos, and financial documents)]. Surely such a description still leaves much of the folder contents "hidden" while browsing the finding aid, but it's a legitimate compromise in the interests of melding professional ethics with the realities of time and resources.
Aside from setting a few folders aside to send to preservation (some tragically brittle pulp mystery magazines from the 1890s), now my next step is to physically arrange the series in the proper integrated order. Right now I have boxes for each series, but they are independent from one another. I'll also finally come to terms with the (dare I say dreaded?) financial materials. It's an exciting time to be a processor nearing the end of the arrangement tunnel!
In other news, a shameless plug: to anyone on the Indiana University campus who has a little extra time in his/her schedule during the next two weeks, consider stopping by the Lilly Library's Lincoln Room to view my exhibit entitled "Paul Weatherwax and Zea mays: IU Professor and Pioneer in Holistic Study of the Corn Plant"! Curated as a project for my SLIS Manuscripts course, the exhibit features highlights from Weatherwax mss, the papers of a celebrated Indiana University botanist who researched and published prolifically during the mid-twentieth century on the topic of corn origins, both morphological and anthropological. I will take some photos following the exhibit installation tomorrow afternoon!
That's all for now. My article abstract on RDA and its influence on Archives will be posted in the next couple week, but I plan to abstract on Robert Cox's article entitled "Maximal Processing; or, Archivist on a Pale Horse" in the next few days. It's an interesting reactionary piece to Greene and Meissner's much heralded "more produce less process" approach to archives work.
Equally important, I hope you're enjoying the onset of spring! Bloomington is certainly beautiful this time of year--that is when one does not find him or herself confined to a windowless processing space. I'm convinced that just makes me appreciate sunshine more when I can get it!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Abstract - Archivists' Toolkit, Archon, and ArchivesSpace: What's the Difference?
As a student studying Archives, it's a given that Archivist's Toolkit, Archon, and ArchivesSpace register in my vocabulary as a professional buzz words or phrases. However, because Indiana University does not employ Archivist's Toolkit or Archon in electronic description of its archival materials, and Archivesspace remains a plan in the making, the concept remains in the abstract for me. For this reason, I thought that delving into the applications' documentation would make for an excellent blog post in preparation for a component of archival processing that I may encounter in my future career. Though we dabbled in these technologies during my Introduction to Archives course in Fall 2009, I think I could use a more in-depth refresher.
For anyone not familiar, I will provide a brief overview of the various technologies:
Archivists' Toolkit (AT) is an open source application created "for archivists by archivists"--more specifically, it was created by the University of California San Diego Libraries, the New York University Libraries, and the Five Colleges, Inc. Libraries thanks to a Mellon Foundation grant. It operates on a web-based interface, can be networked or individual, and can be locally customized for tailored input and/or output. Originally released as Version 1.0 in 2006 with the latest updated (2.0 Update 8) released in October 2010, AT is the "first open source archival data management system to provide broad, integrated support for the management of archives" (archiviststoolkit.org). The application is meant to be easily accessible by archives staff for collection management and creation/maintenance of metadata to support digitally described archival collections. In broad terms, the goals of AT include: support processing and materials access, promote standardization of data and metadata, increase staff efficiency of efforts towards electronic description, and make training easier, thus more cost effective.
Simply put, Archivists Toolkit is a management tool which supports archival management as applied by individual institutions. This includes input information--such as accessions, description at varying levels, authority control, and physical location--as well as access outputs--such as digital finding aids, MARC catalog records, statistics, reports, etc. Because of AT's open access on the web, it is meant to be a point of consensus upon which standards may evolve to a greater extent, perhaps transforming into an online Union Database of sorts through which holdings could be compared and searched in a "one stop shopping" sense (pardon my cliche). Rather than rely on "home grown" databases or methods for accession, ead encoding, finding aid creating, etc., the goal is to create an all-purpose tool which will save time and money while decreasing redundance. To help interested potential implementers, the AT site includes a number of presentations given at professional group meetings, workshops--some of which are available in text, interactive forums, and and a wiki. All in all, it seems straightforward enough for someone such as myself to learn the technology simply through user-friendly documentation.
According to the project's website, which lists self-identified institutions currently employing AT, use varies by state, with 18 repositories listed for California and a whopping zero from Indiana. It is likely that not all users are officially listed on the site, however it is clear that the technology has not taken off with the majority as of yet, though I suspect this is because it is still under development to some extent.
Archon, on the other hand, is more focused as an output software. This technology, as developed by my undergraduate alma mater, the University of Illinois, is touted as an "award-winning software." To quote the Archon website:
"It automatically publishes archival descriptive information and digital archival objects in a user-friendly website. With Archon, there is no need to encode a finding aid, input a catalog record, or program a stylesheet. Archon's powerful scripts will automatically make everything in the system searchable and browsable on your repository's website!"
The Archon site is a bit more basic than that of AT, but this makes it easier to navigate for core information. The site is more "user friendly" to an interested archivist, whereas the AT site is more interested in providing as much information as possible to potential users. Still, the Archon site includes application features, documentation and reports, forums, and listserv access in an accessible format that leaves me much less overwhelmed. From what I gather (and through some helpful pointers via a handy slideshow by Brad Westbook at the ALCTS forum of the 2011 ALA midwinter meeting), Archon differs from Archivists toolkit in that it was developed by a single institution, focused more on end-user web access to finding aids and/or digital content, and is a web application. It seems to be less dynamic in terms of front-end description than AT, however the public interface provides a fantastically streamlined approach to online collection access. If I understand it correctly, Archon provides a relatively complex web interface and search capabilities with very little technical knowledge or effort by the individual performing metadata input. A special administrative interface simplifies editing for archives staff, allowing one to view and change the completed finding aid information, including sections which would not appear to a general public user and make changes as appropriate. The Archon User Manual includes a robust "how-to" tutorial, including marked up screen shots which take the potential implementer through the technology step by step. Though the list of Archon implementers does not look quite as long as that for AT, it is clearly in place at a number of major archival institutions including universities, historical societies, even the San Diego Zoo!
In light of the strengths and weaknesses of both Archivists Toolkit and Archon, the two teams (NYU Libraries and UC San Diego from AT, University of Illinois from Archon) are at present working together to create a "next-generation archives management application" which will meld the best features of both technologies. This hybrid is deemed ArchivesSpace--I'm assuming this name is in relation to the Dspace of the digital library realm. The team will also look to solidify a foresighted plan to ensure a low cost for future application maintenance/administration, interoperability with other archive and digital library applications, and generally improve upon the technological sustainability of the project to avoid the need for painstaking migration in the near future. At present, publicly available documentation for ArchivesSpace includes technical documents, specifications for various types of records, and the latest updates on AT and Archon themselves.
All in all, ArchivesSpace looks like it is going to be a fantastic resource that I hope to use in my future career. Its dynamic, user and archivist friendly design sounds as if it will be accessible and appropriate for archivists at institutions of varying sizes and collection focuses. Surely I did not do it, or the other two related technologies, justice in this blog post, but I think I gained a more immediate awareness of the major differences and interrelationships which will shape the online archival landscape in the future. Theoretically, a tool such as ArchivesSpace could eliminate, for example, a university archives' dependence upon a digital library or IT department to assist in enabling an online presence for collections. Independence sounds great to me. I signed myself up for the ArchivesSpace google group to keep abreast of changes as they come along and look forward to its anticipated release in the next year or two!
For anyone not familiar, I will provide a brief overview of the various technologies:
Archivists' Toolkit (AT) is an open source application created "for archivists by archivists"--more specifically, it was created by the University of California San Diego Libraries, the New York University Libraries, and the Five Colleges, Inc. Libraries thanks to a Mellon Foundation grant. It operates on a web-based interface, can be networked or individual, and can be locally customized for tailored input and/or output. Originally released as Version 1.0 in 2006 with the latest updated (2.0 Update 8) released in October 2010, AT is the "first open source archival data management system to provide broad, integrated support for the management of archives" (archiviststoolkit.org). The application is meant to be easily accessible by archives staff for collection management and creation/maintenance of metadata to support digitally described archival collections. In broad terms, the goals of AT include: support processing and materials access, promote standardization of data and metadata, increase staff efficiency of efforts towards electronic description, and make training easier, thus more cost effective.
Simply put, Archivists Toolkit is a management tool which supports archival management as applied by individual institutions. This includes input information--such as accessions, description at varying levels, authority control, and physical location--as well as access outputs--such as digital finding aids, MARC catalog records, statistics, reports, etc. Because of AT's open access on the web, it is meant to be a point of consensus upon which standards may evolve to a greater extent, perhaps transforming into an online Union Database of sorts through which holdings could be compared and searched in a "one stop shopping" sense (pardon my cliche). Rather than rely on "home grown" databases or methods for accession, ead encoding, finding aid creating, etc., the goal is to create an all-purpose tool which will save time and money while decreasing redundance. To help interested potential implementers, the AT site includes a number of presentations given at professional group meetings, workshops--some of which are available in text, interactive forums, and and a wiki. All in all, it seems straightforward enough for someone such as myself to learn the technology simply through user-friendly documentation.
According to the project's website, which lists self-identified institutions currently employing AT, use varies by state, with 18 repositories listed for California and a whopping zero from Indiana. It is likely that not all users are officially listed on the site, however it is clear that the technology has not taken off with the majority as of yet, though I suspect this is because it is still under development to some extent.
Archon, on the other hand, is more focused as an output software. This technology, as developed by my undergraduate alma mater, the University of Illinois, is touted as an "award-winning software." To quote the Archon website:
"It automatically publishes archival descriptive information and digital archival objects in a user-friendly website. With Archon, there is no need to encode a finding aid, input a catalog record, or program a stylesheet. Archon's powerful scripts will automatically make everything in the system searchable and browsable on your repository's website!"
The Archon site is a bit more basic than that of AT, but this makes it easier to navigate for core information. The site is more "user friendly" to an interested archivist, whereas the AT site is more interested in providing as much information as possible to potential users. Still, the Archon site includes application features, documentation and reports, forums, and listserv access in an accessible format that leaves me much less overwhelmed. From what I gather (and through some helpful pointers via a handy slideshow by Brad Westbook at the ALCTS forum of the 2011 ALA midwinter meeting), Archon differs from Archivists toolkit in that it was developed by a single institution, focused more on end-user web access to finding aids and/or digital content, and is a web application. It seems to be less dynamic in terms of front-end description than AT, however the public interface provides a fantastically streamlined approach to online collection access. If I understand it correctly, Archon provides a relatively complex web interface and search capabilities with very little technical knowledge or effort by the individual performing metadata input. A special administrative interface simplifies editing for archives staff, allowing one to view and change the completed finding aid information, including sections which would not appear to a general public user and make changes as appropriate. The Archon User Manual includes a robust "how-to" tutorial, including marked up screen shots which take the potential implementer through the technology step by step. Though the list of Archon implementers does not look quite as long as that for AT, it is clearly in place at a number of major archival institutions including universities, historical societies, even the San Diego Zoo!
In light of the strengths and weaknesses of both Archivists Toolkit and Archon, the two teams (NYU Libraries and UC San Diego from AT, University of Illinois from Archon) are at present working together to create a "next-generation archives management application" which will meld the best features of both technologies. This hybrid is deemed ArchivesSpace--I'm assuming this name is in relation to the Dspace of the digital library realm. The team will also look to solidify a foresighted plan to ensure a low cost for future application maintenance/administration, interoperability with other archive and digital library applications, and generally improve upon the technological sustainability of the project to avoid the need for painstaking migration in the near future. At present, publicly available documentation for ArchivesSpace includes technical documents, specifications for various types of records, and the latest updates on AT and Archon themselves.
All in all, ArchivesSpace looks like it is going to be a fantastic resource that I hope to use in my future career. Its dynamic, user and archivist friendly design sounds as if it will be accessible and appropriate for archivists at institutions of varying sizes and collection focuses. Surely I did not do it, or the other two related technologies, justice in this blog post, but I think I gained a more immediate awareness of the major differences and interrelationships which will shape the online archival landscape in the future. Theoretically, a tool such as ArchivesSpace could eliminate, for example, a university archives' dependence upon a digital library or IT department to assist in enabling an online presence for collections. Independence sounds great to me. I signed myself up for the ArchivesSpace google group to keep abreast of changes as they come along and look forward to its anticipated release in the next year or two!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Week Twelve: Moving Right Along
I shall start off with my standard "Oh gosh, I can't believe I only have four weeks left before the end of my internship!" line. The days are rolling by. I think it's definitely a good sign for my future career satisfaction prospects that I still get to the end of each day and think, "Well, that was fast."
Week twelve didn't hold a lot of groundbreaking revelations, to say the least, but I'm still moving along with processing. I finished with the majority of the difficult sorting and arranging--i.e. breaking up a number of subject file series (series-es?) into the logical series that I devised for the collection. When I began, the materials were oddly arranged to some extent in series, but with the majority of materials filed under a generic "Subject Files" series. I retained this designation for some files, but I found that many folders more appropriately fit under "Administrative," "Correspondence," "Events," "Regional Chapters," etc. than were originally oriented as such.
I honestly encountered no big ethical dilemmas over the course of the week. Though I do have a "Questions" pile that I've thus far avoided, I don't think it will be too much trouble to sort things out. I tossed most materials in the pile during the first week or two of arrangement. Since then, I think I've gained a good grasp on the differentiation between series, even when topics, qualities, or formats overlap. [Clarification: The toss was figurative, of course!] Craig and Cherry will check over my inventory once I get to a good review point, but until then, I'm feeling confident.
No, I have not yet tackled the bulk of the Financial series. About four boxes stuffed with small, itemized ledgers, envelopes full of check and deposit stubs, receipts, tax forms dating back to the late 1940s, etc.. remain... it's a bit of a mess. I plan to find Cherry on Thursday (During this week, number 13, I am yet again a bit late in posting) and talk things through with her. I don't want to make any suppositions, but I also don't want to waste my processing energy on anything that should be "de-accessioned," "weeded," or whatever the appropriate term may be in this situation. I will also make it my point to find out what the appropriate term is!
Otherwise, I have a couple more boxes of manuscripts to add to the inventory, which are large files that will not take much time at all to process. After that, I'll address the "Questions" pile and get the series into the proper order. Right now I just have boxes per distinct series but not in relation to one another (i.e. two boxes of Correspondence, two boxes of general Events, two boxes to the Edgar Awards Dinner (annual) event.). Like I explained in my last post, it will be easy to shift the processing on to my predecessor, whoever the lucky individual may be!
Now, I leave you with a couple more photos!
Article abstracts soon to come on what RDA cataloging means for Archives, an overview of Archon software, and one more yet to be decided--not for lack of options, rather for an overwhelming abundance of options Should you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to post a comment!
Best,
Amy
Week twelve didn't hold a lot of groundbreaking revelations, to say the least, but I'm still moving along with processing. I finished with the majority of the difficult sorting and arranging--i.e. breaking up a number of subject file series (series-es?) into the logical series that I devised for the collection. When I began, the materials were oddly arranged to some extent in series, but with the majority of materials filed under a generic "Subject Files" series. I retained this designation for some files, but I found that many folders more appropriately fit under "Administrative," "Correspondence," "Events," "Regional Chapters," etc. than were originally oriented as such.
I honestly encountered no big ethical dilemmas over the course of the week. Though I do have a "Questions" pile that I've thus far avoided, I don't think it will be too much trouble to sort things out. I tossed most materials in the pile during the first week or two of arrangement. Since then, I think I've gained a good grasp on the differentiation between series, even when topics, qualities, or formats overlap. [Clarification: The toss was figurative, of course!] Craig and Cherry will check over my inventory once I get to a good review point, but until then, I'm feeling confident.
No, I have not yet tackled the bulk of the Financial series. About four boxes stuffed with small, itemized ledgers, envelopes full of check and deposit stubs, receipts, tax forms dating back to the late 1940s, etc.. remain... it's a bit of a mess. I plan to find Cherry on Thursday (During this week, number 13, I am yet again a bit late in posting) and talk things through with her. I don't want to make any suppositions, but I also don't want to waste my processing energy on anything that should be "de-accessioned," "weeded," or whatever the appropriate term may be in this situation. I will also make it my point to find out what the appropriate term is!
Otherwise, I have a couple more boxes of manuscripts to add to the inventory, which are large files that will not take much time at all to process. After that, I'll address the "Questions" pile and get the series into the proper order. Right now I just have boxes per distinct series but not in relation to one another (i.e. two boxes of Correspondence, two boxes of general Events, two boxes to the Edgar Awards Dinner (annual) event.). Like I explained in my last post, it will be easy to shift the processing on to my predecessor, whoever the lucky individual may be!
Now, I leave you with a couple more photos!
 |
| To help visualize the financial materials... here is an exciting box full of canceled checks! |
 |
| An invitation to the 1953 Edgar Allan Poe Awards Dinner -- the MWA's annual event during which the organization awards prizes to mystery authors/books/related, including a best novel of the year, best novel by a new author, best short story, etc. |
 |
| An Edgar Award certificate (with editing on the date at the top; I assume this was a draft!) for George Thurston Scott's first novel, "Cure it with Honey" |
Article abstracts soon to come on what RDA cataloging means for Archives, an overview of Archon software, and one more yet to be decided--not for lack of options, rather for an overwhelming abundance of options Should you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to post a comment!
Best,
Amy
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