I Didn’t Choose History, History Chose Me: Exploring Collective Journeys
Since 2007, it has literally been my job to not only visit museum and history organizations, but to get to know those who work in them…
Since 2007, it has literally been my job to not only visit museum and history organizations, but to get to know those who work in them. Thus, I have been actively engaged in finding and disseminating the ideas and work of colleagues across the spectrum of the history enterprise. Such is the case with Richard Josey, founder of Collective Journeys. Below is our conversation.
Share a bit about your background: your education and career trajectory. Why or how did you end up in the history/museum field?
First, I didn’t choose history, history chose me.
I began working at Colonial Williamsburg in the mid 80s. During a church service, there was an announcement that Colonial Williamsburg had started a program where the youth could learn history and help teach it. My grandmother thought it was a good opportunity and signed me up and I started this journey of understanding the connections between the past and the present.
Frankly, I had no intention on this being a long-term career. I went into the Air Force and shortly after I finished my term, I studied Computer Science at ECPI College of Technology. However, I was brought back to history in 1998 by Emily James (a phenomenal historian and performer at CW), who came by my house and brought me an application! And I’ve been working in the history field since then.
I’ve been blessed to perform on stages and sites from Oregon to Key West. I’ve learned practical techniques and methodology from mentors like Dr. Rex Ellis, Dylan Pritchett, and Christy Coleman (just a few names). I’ve managed programs and staff and was part of a career-changing experience in starting the Revolutionary City at CW. Colonial Williamsburg was the place that sparked my critical thinking process.
I’ve also been blessed to be able to attend the Getty Leadership Institute and the History Leadership Institute. I left CW in 2012 to accept a position at the Minnesota Historical Society as their Manager of Programs, overseeing programs and operations at 13 historic sites across the state. This was an incredible opportunity to see further into the world of historical organizations and assess the challenges in the larger museum field.
Working at MNHS placed me into a position where I was forced to see my weaknesses as a professional and further find my voice and purpose. MNHS is where I found my sweet spot between the essential nature of history thinking, truth telling, and need for greater intentionality in legacy thinking. This is also where I began to establish closer connections with AASLH and have been a part of various committees and task forces, like the History Relevance Campaign, US250 task force (focused on preparing for 2026), and the Diversity and Inclusion team.
What’s the best part about the work?
The best part of this work is the relationships. It took me a while to realize that. People are wonderful, complicated, complex beings. I really enjoy the conversations, the “ah-ha” moments, and the real collective sense of belonging that comes out of establishing authentic relationships. I love the dialogue that connects when exploring the past. For me, this confirms that fact that historical organizations can best serve humanity by simply being venues that bring people together diverse people simply to create new relationships; discovering and exploring history (and meaning) as the vessel.
Do you care to share any of your frustrations?
I can sum up my concerns in one phrase — the perceived absence of intentionality. I didn’t know how to phrase this until I read Randi Korn’s work, (beginning with “The Case for Holistic Intentionality”) and held conversations with Conny Graft (research and evaluation guru).
I’ve learned that good intentions aren’t enough to be relevant, or better yet, essential to creating greater positive impact for the totality of society. I’m convinced that we need to be more intentional about our desired impact. Then, every step that we take must be moving in that direction with a strategy for working with the community to create that impact that is mutually beneficial.
I get frustrated with what seems to be a lack of urgency, which leads to normalized ”response mode.” Due to this lack, we’re constantly forced to act in response to a crisis rather than part of an intentional effort to resolve systemic issues. Change doesn’t happen overnight. It can be a slow process. But when organizations find themselves in reaction mode, they can become distracted by all the other issues and before you know it, 10 years has gone by and they’re still on page 1 of their diversity and inclusion playbook. This isn’t indicative of well-intentioned folks. I applaud the intention.
When good intentions don’t equate intentional work practices, we continue a cycle that’s not as beneficial to the whole of society. I’m also growing more concerned about who institutions feel they are to serve. We live in a society that is so divided. We profess that “Museums are not neutral.” While I truly appreciate the sentiment and the power it brings to so many, I’m concerned that we have not placed enough emphasis on is the bigger question: If not neutral, then what are they? That seems to be more empowering to me. But, that’s my opinion and in no way intended to diminish efforts to create a more inclusive field.
After 20 years, I am interested in moving the conversation forward so we can get to deeper issues, like how can we further support the work of history educators in the classroom and universities or how can we diversify donor and sponsor lists so more financial support is aimed at efforts of diversity and inclusion. I believe we are much better than the present circumstance.
Recently you wrote in reply to something I sent to you, “I’m just trying to be a good ancestor.” Tell me a little about what that means and how it impacts your life and work.
One of the most transformative moments of my life was when I heard a Dakota elder ask, “What kind of ancestor do you want to be?” When I followed up with him, I found so much wisdom, that I hope I can honor him for the rest of my days.
I realized that every day, we have the power to positively impact someone else’s life. That is a power that no one can take from us. So, when we leave this Earth, as we all will, what is it that we want to leave behind?
The 7th generation principle explains the urgency of this even better…that every decision we make will impact us for 7 generations into the future. Consider the power behind that concept. To me, this means our work, our deliberations, and planning is just as important as other fields, like science and technology.
This is the foundational principle of my present work. Everything that I do must speak to the type of world that I and many others wish to create and leave behind. I don’t want to tell a good story as much as I want to help someone create a world where they see themselves as a vital asset in a larger story.
Among the many things you bring to the history field is a deep, abiding understanding and intuition in the interpretation of slavery. How did you get engaged in that work?
I remember being around 10 years old and going to the Benjamin Powell House in Williamsburg. This was part of the African-American Juvenile Interpreter program at CW. I remember seeing Christy Coleman portray an enslaved woman by the name of Cate. Cate was scary, maybe even seemingly aggressive, but was the realest thing I had ever seen in theater. I had never seen anything like it!
The topic of slavery wasn’t a normal conversational topic. It was (and often is) something you don’t talk about. And yet, after meeting Cate, I wanted to talk about it…a lot. I wanted to know why she seemed so angry. I wanted to know if there were ever any “good days.” There was so much I wanted to know about her.
As I began to understand other people of the past, I felt an obligation to show people what I see. I wanted them to see a strong resilient people who were people first. I hated how enslaved individuals were lumped into overarching categories as simply subjects or victims.
Perhaps, I was impacted even further by the social climate of the late 80s as well. But it’s clear that I was surrounded by some of the most intelligent and insightful museum professionals that showed me a different picture of our ancestors that leave them stuck as the nameless, faceless victims we often hear about: the “slaves.”
To be clear, I’m not saying that they didn’t experience crimes against humanity. That is a fact. What I’m saying is that a critical reflection on the history of individuals helps better understand the group and helps us better discuss them as humans.
I’ve always hated how we use race-based laws as the defining identification for people. I don’t see them as slaves. I see them as mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, etc. who were enslaved.
Can you share some ideas for how history organizations can grapple with the subject?
Two things come to mind immediately: the immediate and the strategic.
Immediately, I think history organizations should look at their collections, sites, etc. and begin rethinking the previous interpretations of them. Create interpretations using names, ages, etc. Also, rethink the language used to communicate about them. For example, if Joe used this pot, say “Joe used this pot,” instead of “Joe would have used this pot.” This might sound minor, but there’s power in the words we use to describe them and their experiences.
Also, use interpretations to create moments where guests dialogue with each other to create meaning. I think dialogue is one of the most powerful, yet underused assets in history organizations.
More strategically, I’ve learned from International Coalition of Sites of Conscience about what we call the “Four Truths” — forensic truth, personal truth, social truth, and healing truth.
In 1995, the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was set up by the Government of National Unity to help deal with what happened under apartheid. An outcome of the TRC was establishing a clear understanding of four notions of the truth as a structure for dialogue around contentious issues. These notions of truth serve as my framework to helping history organizations and educators create experiences that help people see the world through the eyes of others not like them. That, for me, is of utmost importance.
You and I have had lots of discussions over the years about diversity and inclusion and in many ways you’ve helped form and shape my own views on the field’s imperative(s) in this area. Can you share a bit about what you’re seeing?
Let me start with an example. I called a notable poet in Norfolk, Virginia because I wanted to do a whiteboard animation video describing Collective Journeys LLC, my consulting business. Instead of a narration with the typical museum jargon, I wanted some spoken word that would help put out the vibe I’m on.
The next day, he asked me to call, gave me a sample of what he was writing, and 1 hour later, we had a whole new concept that I think will blow people’s minds. I felt good. He felt good. And we’re moving forward and bring multiple people into a project intended to have a great impact on multiple communities and identities.
But what’s important is that I’ve now linked up with somebody else who wants to change the world for the betterment of humanity. We come from two different backgrounds, but with a common purpose, we can produce something phenomenal.
Now, I think history organizations are of best service when they come to the table with ideas but are deliberate in leaving room to create something new with partners and collaborators. Come to the table with a commitment to build lifelong sustainable relationships with diverse communities.
Include them early and often, not just when it’s an exhibit or program focused on them. Show up at community events and show support. Be a good friend and advocate for the community. Museums are best when they are part of the community and seen as such by the community. Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable.
Tell me about Collective Journeys. What is your ultimate vision for your work?
Collective Journeys LLC is a museum consultancy aimed at helping history organizations create inclusive narratives and sustainable community relationships. We believe that museums and historic sites are the perfect venues for bringing together diverse people to begin the important process of reconciliation. When we speak of reconciliation, we mean an ongoing process involving forgiveness, resolve to change, and justice.
Exploration of the past in a critical way gives us the ability to see each other’s stories in a new light, thereby allowing the creation of new relationships and breaking down barriers that prevent a collective spirit among members of a civil society.
This isn’t about merely creating feel-good moments. This is about connecting several strands of theory to create a new practice of encouraging everyone to consider what kind of ancestor they want to be.
We find that there are 3 critical areas of importance when considering creating inclusive narrations:
1. Interpretive planning
2. Learning and development
3. Community engagement.
We aim to help institutions capitalize on their existing resources and relationships to create greater impact of social benefit.
I think the most inspiring aspect of Collective Journeys as a business model is that we offer a service that is bigger than what I alone can bring. The real power of movements and revolutions seems to be grounded in the “we before me” mentality.
Although there are only 2 people listed in the staff makeup of Collective Journeys, for now, we didn’t get here without the spirit of a collections of people from different fields of work and life experiences. So, when Collective Journeys shows up, we show up with a network of resources that are a phone call away. Although we have expertise, we don’t consider ourselves the experts. We’re merely folks looking to create a sustained movement where 7 years from now, we aren’t having the same conversations as we did in 1985.
In the end, if we can help the people meet new people, break down barriers and help them consider and validate (when applicable) other truths, we place them on a path of creating a new reality.
We just released an introductory video that explains a little, while displaying the vibe that we’re on. (NB: STOP RIGHT NOW and watch the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fqmz6Q1g_8g.)
Our vibe is really important to us as we push to connect to communities that don’t see themselves reflected in museum work while also aiming to avoid creating new disproportionate representation in the field. We aim for results and are convinced that when institutions focus more on their impact, they become more essential to the community.
In the end, if we can help the people meet new people, break down barriers and help them consider and validate (when applicable) other truths, we place them on a path of creating a new reality.
Thanks Richard. I look forward to working with you on your journey. For those looking to contact Richard, you can reach him at these places:
A twenty-year veteran of the nonprofit world, Bob Beatty is founder of The Lyndhurst Group, a history, museum, and nonprofit consulting firm providing community-focused engagement strategies for institutional planning, organizational assessments, and interpretive direction.