As I was recently processing the papers of John McGuckin— former Nielsen Professor of Late Antique and Byzantine Christian History at Union, British theologian, Orthodox Christian priest, and poet– I came across something interesting: scribbled throughout a good third, if not closer to half of the collection, are annotations, notes, and even little jokes!

 

 

These seemed to be less “in the moment” notes that McGuckin might have made to highlight something interesting or something to remember, and more explanatory– and even self conscious in the most literal sense of the word– in nature. For example, see below where McGuckin explains on the back of a letter who the person is and fits them in a narrative of his scholarly life, and also see an annotation on a postcard giving important information and context:

 

 

 

As I thanked McGuckin in my head for making my job easier in terms of organizing and describing his papers, because he had already explained a lot of what was important, I found myself asking: were these notes meant for me? My gut told me yes– that these notes were indeed for later users of his papers, whether it be me, an archivist doing the processing, or students and researchers using the collection. Why?

 

In addition to the annotations, McGuckin’s papers were carefully curated. They were clearly not stuffed from a file drawer or desk into a box, haphazardly, at the last moment, maybe by someone else, as is the case for some archival collections (no shade to those, of course! We love collections of all kinds!). McGuckin purposefully included items and categories of material of personal and professional significance, including relevant early coursework and his dissertation, correspondence about the major event of his becoming Orthodox (already together in one neat envelope), photographs of his ordination, and copies of his writings and lectures. He even printed out historical photos of his family and locations of importance, noting who/what/where for everything, and also included a self-authored family narrative as if to give the full context of his life and work. This indicated to me that, at least in some sense, McGuckin had consciously prepared his archives. See below for some clear evidence of this curation (and consciousness of wanting certain things to be kept and known), as well as his sense of humor!

 

 

 

In all my intro to archives classes, and as an answer to a question I get a lot as an archivist, I explain that archives are records of unique historical value that are created in the context of everyday life and functioning. This means that for the most part, people aren’t going around thinking that their records are going to be part of an archival collection, and either aren’t able or don’t care to curate their records before donation. But here was an exception to the rule!

 

Did this make me do my work on the collection any differently? Yes! Because I knew McGuckin had already curated his papers to an extent, I didn’t remove much at all. Normally archivists remove, or weed, items that contain personal or sensitive information, items that can be found elsewhere (such as published material), and items that aren’t particularly relevant to the collection (a photo of professor X’s family vacation mixed in amongst her scholarly work, or a promotional t shirt for an event attended by professor Y, for example). Even things that I would normally weed, such as copies of and information about the work of McGuckin’s wife, or the receipt of payment for his first book, I kept in the collection because I had a hunch that McGuckin had included it for a reason.

 

I don’t often get to talk to the creators of the collections I process about their whys, about what’s included in their papers and records. And while it wasn’t a face to face conversation, I truly enjoyed the “conversation” I got to have with McGuckin through his notes. For more information, or to set up an appointment to view these materials, see the finding aid (or guide) to the collection.) -LE