Editorial
On a rare excursion from our newsroom, a group of Herald editors and writers trotted through the Sunday wind to the University archives at the John Hay Library, in which two-and-a-half centuries of College Hill history are stored in diaries, tapes, photos and notes. Even the most curious among us had spent little or no time in this corner of the library. While we’ve canvassed most of campus for stories, we needed a tour from a University archivist to get our bearings there.
We browsed pictures of our former live bear mascots, which were staples at football games for most of the last century. We laughed as we flipped through a century-old issue of our own paper, in which the weekly orchestra rehearsal made front-page news. We perused the oldest Corporation records, and were reminded that, even generously adjusted for inflation, our $312 budget for financial aid in 1897 shows we’ve come a long way since.
Looking into the University’s past reminded us of its rich history and also of its uglier sides. We read of President William Faunce, class of 1880, resisting coeducation at Brown. We saw old pictures of The Herald’s editorial staff – all white, male and mustachioed.
Students can easily spend four years on College Hill without ever stepping into the Hay, and it’s even easier – nearly a given – for many never to wander into the small corner room brimming with filing cabinets and memories. We donned the white gloves to handle one of the tens of thousands of photos donated by alums that are now filed away in the archives’ cabinets, knowing we were likely the first and last person to touch it for years.
It’s a quieter part of campus. While College Hill is known for being dynamic – with a new building here and naked students there – the archives serve instead as a place for pensive reflection.
Certainly, covering breaking news stories gets any reporter’s heart pumping. Running toward gunshot sounds at the Rock – even if it turns out to have been a stone from a slingshot – is an exciting chase.
But a departure from the immediacy of the newsroom to peek into the timelessness of the archives refreshed our sense of context. In the age of e-everything, actually putting our hands on our University’s history – thumbing photos of old dorm room interiors and squinting at swirly handwriting in student diaries – was a real treat.
The historical memory of the Brown community is invaluable. We hope that, a century from now, the Herald’s 218th editorial board will make a similar trip to look at the University’s archives and will also be able to peer at their past to measure their present.