sitting and stitching, watching Pierre in the lists |
Learning to be served is as often difficult as learning how to serve. In today's world, we are expected to be able to do everything ourselves, to ask for help is seen as weakness. In reality, none of us would get by if we didn't rely on the people around us. I am naturally a helper, I love to help other people, I love to cook for them, to make things for them. I show my love through my actions more than by words. Close friends smile at how I seemingly wait on other people, especially my husband. This is especially true when he is gaming. Food and coffee magically appear at his desk when he is in the game, his buddies in the Twitch stream laugh and say 'good morning Mrs. Onix!' Little do they realize that Pierre waits on me too, in other ways. We are a team.
But back to service, from an SCA standpoint...
When I was in service, I would take it upon myself to learn what my Lady/Laurel/Queen liked to eat and drink, and how it was prepared. I carried a basket with things like a notebook and pen to take notes on everything from who to later write thank you notes to, to finding out where to make dinner reservations and for how many. I helped them dress at the beginning of an event, change during the event, and undress afterwards. I made sure their table was set properly, washed dishes afterwards, and helped repack the vehicle at the end of the evening.
Then I became an Honourable Lady, then a Baroness myself, and I had to learn how to be served. I found it far easier to have people around me who knew me very well. There were growing pains, for sure, as I was so used to handling everything on my own. But I had to give up that control to another. I still don't do it very well. But I try.
What does this have to do with living history events? Well, to start, we have been going about attending events in a way that may not do service to either the site, or to each other. We have been going about eventing from an individual's standpoint instead of a community standpoint. And this often happens to both the re-enactor and the site coordinator. From a site coordinator's perspective, they want visitors through the door, money in the bank account. They may not know how to deal with the influx of temporary staff though, either in sheer numbers, or with volunteers who travel a distance to get there. The best events I have attended have provided a good bit of background information on why the event is being held. There is often enough time in advance for me to tweak our kit, if necessary, but also to allow me to develop our own personal interpretation for that event. Each event is different, and a good living historian understands that. It's not simply a matter of showing up with all our material culture, setting up, and camping for the public. We have some kit that we bring that we can carry on our backs, like when we are portraying refugees, and other times we can bring the whole tavern set-up. I also need to know what clothes we need to be wearing, even as civilians. Fashions change by the year, even in wartime, but also in social scenario. It's not simply about providing firewood, straw, water, and a clean blue rocket. I need information. A site coordinator should also provide an event scenario, and this is where dramaturgy comes into play. What is the event? What were the events, in history, that lead up to this event happening? Who were the key players? Who were the common men and women? What are the guidelines that we should be following? This is all service that event staff need to be doing for the living historian.
And the living historian needs to do the service of preparing for that event in order to provide the best experience for the visitor. What year are we portraying? What social class are we? Would we even be there as military? or civilian people? We have a lot of 'stuff' but it's not all appropriate for every event. In fact, the full tavern has only been out once in the three years we have been here. There are other opportunities for different interpretive experiences. We have played Loyalist refugees, British army support staff, American army support staff, common folk just evacuated from their homes in a time of crisis.
In all these situations, I have relied on my community to help me to prepare for the event. I learn from other community members as much as from books. The public sees this as well. They notice the differences between event types, and there is a noticeable shift in how that public goes to and consumes living history events. There is still a market for the 'really big show' types of events, just as much as there is for the small, immersive experiences. The difference is in the quality of the show. The public is learning what looks 'right', versus what seems to be 'historical fantasy'. They understand the difference between history and Hollywood. There is a place for each, but they should not be at the same event.
It behooves us to put our best foot forward, both as event organizers, and as living historians. We should be spending more time as a community to help provide the best experience possible for the visitor. These notions of service can help us understand our roles when we are interacting with each other in eighteenth-century living history too though. The more we get to interact with each other, the better we get to know one another, the better a team we become. And we really need to understand that we are a team, both site coordinator and living historian. I would love to be able to interact with everyone more personally than on facebook. I would love to be helping to coordinate living history events so that everyone can have the very best experience. I would love to see more opportunities for us to get together in the off-season to help each other grow and develop broader programming, more interesting experiences for each other, as well as the public. I guess I am missing that camaraderie that develops among friends and colleagues. That working together as a team. And I am still better at the serving side of things than I am at being served...
Feeling a bit lonely these days.
Elizabeth Hickman, d.1784, Cook |
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