Robots, Vikings and Lots of Twinkl Worksheets: Why We Should All Take Part in Community Engagement

When I decided to run a children’s local history scheme over the school summer holidays at my town’s library, I had visions of becoming a modern-day amalgamation of Terry Deary and Raphael Samuel. A history wizard who would ward off the scourge of the terrible Horrible Histories reboot today’s children have been subjected to and inspire them to become the historians of tomorrow. I could already see the mention of my name after they won a Royal Historical Society prize, the thank you at the front of an acclaimed monograph. Twenty minutes into trying to help five children make Florence Nightingale-style lanterns out of printer paper and supermarket own-brand glue sticks, however, and the dream of being the catalyst of success had been hit by reality.

This is not to say, however, that my experience was not a good one. Yes, there were a lot of side-tracked discussions about robots, and misinformation about the Vikings and the rampage they had apparently taken through the town, but alongside this, there to make it all worth it, were the moments when the children got it. When they really concentrated on filling in a worksheet correctly, their pride when showing off the paper vintage car they had created to their parents, their belief in their ability to ask relevant and interesting questions growing more and more as the weeks went on. Whilst my plethora of Twinkl worksheets and boundless optimism may not have changed the trajectory of any lives, my experience did reaffirm, in an era of endless questions about the purpose of a history degree and even history as a subject of study, that what we as history students can contribute to society is incredibly worthwhile.

That said, there is, of course, no requirement that us students do anything other than submit half-decent essays on time, unlike academics, who are bound by the requirements of the Research Council UK and Research Excellence Framework to illustrate the potential ‘impact’ of their work in order to be granted funding. But to not take a leaf out of the professionals’ book and partake in Public History whilst we are within a university environment is to sell ourselves, our subject and even (excuse the dramatics) our futures short.

Have you ever tried to come up with two new workshop ideas a week good enough to impress a group of 7–11-year-olds? Trust me, it takes more creativity and innovation than you’d think-and it’s in this acquisition and demonstration of ‘soft skills’ that Public History really comes into its own. By participating in community engagement, you are putting your degree into action, taking responsibility for the success of a scheme with real-world implications and proving that you have the time-management, communication and leadership skills that all future employers want to see. If that isn’t enough, community projects are also mutually beneficial. In my case, the children who participated in the scheme, whilst unlikely to ever put their newfound skills to use as historians, did develop a high level of inventiveness, astuteness and critical thinking that will likely serve them well as they grow up within the modern world. Equally, working in a community setting with adults and giving them the opportunity to share their knowledge and experiences and access new resources and ways of thinking is incredibly important.

Community engagement may seem a little small fry when compared to the political advisor roles and appearances in light entertainment documentaries evidenced by professionals as their public impact, but it is, as I hope I’ve persuaded you, still extremely valuable (and also the only option available to students, our participation in the others could result in disasters of international proportion). If you want to create a history-focused community engagement scheme, volunteer at a heritage site or support the maintenance of a local archive, then go for it! Email your local library, keep an eye out for opportunities on the Warwick Volunteers website and in your hometown, and don’t be afraid to try. I promise, you will be regularly surprised, perplexed and accosted for discussions about topics that have absolutely no relevance to what you are trying to do, but it will be worth it. Now, I know I said students in documentaries would be a bad idea, but if any producers are reading, I know a not insignificant amount about a Viking raid that never happened, if you’re interested…

Bibliography

Keane, Hilda, ‘People, Historians and Public History: Demystifying the Process of History Making’, The Public Historian, 32.3 (2010), pp.25-38, doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/tph.2010.32.3.25.

King, Laura and Rivett, Gary, ‘Engaging People in Making History: Impact, Public Engagement and the World Beyond the Campus’, History Workshop Journal, 80 (2015), pp.218-233, doi: https://doi.org/10.1093/hwj/dbv015.

Lloyd, Sarah and Moore, Julie, ‘Sedimented Histories: Connections, Collaborations and Co-productions in Regional History’, History Workshop Journal, 80 (2015), pp.234-248, doi: https://doi.org/10.1093/hwj/dbv015.

Tosh, John, ‘Public History, Civic Engagement and the Historical Profession in Britain’, History, 99.2 (335) (2014), pp.191-212, doi: https://doi.org/10.1111/1468-229X.12053.