Bookish Disposition

Digital Natives and the Records Management Old Country

     There has been an interesting discussion on the Second Life Educators (SLED) list this week about "old digital natives."  The term "digital native" is usually used to refer to students who grew up with technology and speak its language with the ease of a native speaker.  This is contrasted with those who arrive on technological shores from outside that world and must learn that particular language.  A digital native isn't necessarily defined by age.  Many on the SLED list this week have identified themselves as "old" digital natives - those who are in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s who have used technology since the days of punch cards and home-built computer kits. 

     There has been a lot of discussion in the education community about how accurate or helpful the "digital native" stereotype is (or isn't), and like any generalization, it can only take us so far.  As I read that discussion, though, I am starting to see a parallel to the way we think about records management.  Our mindsets and our approaches to records management determine how fluently we can speak its language and how comfortable we are with its concepts, but they also determine how we approach the new challenges of the digital world.

Instant history, international connections, and infinite shoes:

Why archivists and records managers should consider virtual worlds

     I have a confession:  For over a year now, I've been living a Second Life.  Last August, I saw a demonstration of the virtual world called Second Life at an educational technology conference.  The speaker showed how three-dimensional online virtual worlds could be used for distance education, conferences and meetings, small group discussions, or even film set design. The possibilities are astounding:  You can fly up to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, tour an art gallery and walk right inside the paintings, swim through a shipwreck, or attend a lecture at the Coliseum. 

     I could see the opportunities for archival collections.  Exhibits could be created and rotated as often as you like.  In a virtual world, it's easy to repaint the walls in two seconds, renovate the entire building in two minutes, or host an exhibit outside under the stars.  Why not show a Civil War map and give the viewer a chance to walk through the battlefield?  I could also see the challenges.  If we think e-records are tough to handle now, how will we archive and preserve collections of three-dimensional objects that interact with the user? 

     I just had to check it out.  I signed up for Second Life, got hooked, and eventually created a simple exhibit using some family photos and stories.  There are many other uses for virtual worlds, and I must confess that I have been sidetracked by live music concerts and filling my virtual closet with a ridiculous number of shoes, but the records manager in me still lives.  I believe my fellow archivists and records managers ought to check out virtual worlds, too.  Here are some reasons:

Risk is right

     One of the songs on my much-cherished iPhone these days is "Risk is Right" by a group called Tin Cup Gypsy.  It's catchy, and although the band might not have realized this, it's about records management. (Play the song on the band's Facebook or MySpace page.  You'll like it.)

     We talk about records management and risk together all the time, and we should.  What are the risks to our company if we don't keep this record long enough?  What are the risks if we keep it too long?  How do we manage the risks to our organization through disaster recovery planning?  How do we manage information and the risks involved with legal discovery?  There are days when risk alone is enough to turn staff, management, and IT into records management true believers. 

     For some of our organizations, though, things like lawsuits and disasters and loss of institutional knowledge don't feel real.  Those things happen to other people, not to us.  You hear things like, "Show me one government official or corporate middle manager who's gone to jail because he/she destroyed records," and "Well, we've never had that problem here," and "I don't have time for this - I have work to do."  Risk is only scary when it's seen as real, and too often, records management is only seen as necessary after it's too late.

Records and the Cats of Mirikitani

  Records tell a story.  They help us know what happened, who we are, and from where we came.  When we fail to maintain them, we lose our stories, our history, our past, and our ability to see clearly.   Some records tell us about our companies, our communities, our culture, or our nation.  Some records represent people - their lives, their rights, and their own stories.   This is why what we do as archivists and records managers is so important. 

I watched a documentary called The Cats of Mirikitani today.   I ordered it from Netflix because a reviewer on local radio recommended it, and because hey, I like cats.  I was not looking for a film that would tear my heart out, but I found one, and I am very glad I did.

The Cats of Mirikitani is the story of 85 year old Japanese-American artist Jimmy Mirikitani.  The film begins in 2001, a few months before the Towers fell.  Jimmy is living on the street, painting, and accepting help from no one, especially the government.   As the film unfolds, we learn where Jimmy came from, why he's an artist, and why he's on the street.  We learn Jimmy's story one brush stroke at a time.  This is a story about an artist, about the deep pain caused by war, about helping others, and about healing. 

This is also a story about records.  I'd tell you how, but I want you to see this film, so I'll just say this:  Watch for the pictures and story of Tule Lake.  Watch for the moment when Linda writes to Washington for information from Jimmy's file.  Watch for the story of Jimmy's lost citizenship and a lost letter.  Records tell part of this story, too.

Watch this film.  It will make you laugh, cry, and think.  It might remind you of someone you know.  Those who are owned by cats will especially recognize the scene when the filmmaker comes home late and is scolded by a worried Jimmy and a hungry cat.  The story continues on through the credits, so be sure to watch them, too.