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Research in the Archives of the GLS

This Summer, Megan Thomas from the University of Liverpool undertook a Masters Research Internship supervised by RomMig Co-I Tamara West and by Katy Hooper from the University of Liverpool Special Collections and Archives. In this invited blog, Megan reflects upon her complex work during the internship, the potential of visual mapping, and on the need for compassionate archival practice.

In April, I began work on the Gypsy Lore Society (GLS) Archive in the University of Liverpool’s Special Collections & Archives (SCA) as part of the Masters Research Internship Scheme (MRIS). My small role within the larger interdisciplinary collaboration was designed to build upon understandings of the collection through an exercise in ‘identifying’ missing or separated material. Here, photographs, correspondence, postcards, and newspaper cuttings previously separated from this central record series (to be rearranged in the ‘photograph’ series, for instance) were flagged within the GLS SCA finding aid. This affects the reinscription of meaning and relationships between archival material, subjects, and creators. The meticulous process of combing through Society correspondence from 1926-1966 illuminated the multiple and capacious networks represented across the GLS collections.

Photographs from University of Liverpool Special Collections showing photographs alongside correspondence.

Setting the tone for the duration of the internship, my first day in the archive saw the surprising identification of a photograph, acting as somewhat of a ‘missing piece’, in the visual record of the 1906 Romani migration to the UK from Germany. Here, recently relocated photographic evidence of historical presence offers the exciting potential to ground community narratives in a visible, tangible past. The applicability of this for the RomMig project is immediately striking.

Throughout this internship I was fortunate enough to gain some insight into the amalgamation of archival research, cultural geography, and community outreach in the form of the geospatial storytelling software, Humap. The software seems uniquely appropriate to represent what Humap itself calls ‘imperfect spatial data’. Tracking the physical movements of any group or individual through the archive will be, as a consequence of preservation or interpretation of ‘value’, by nature ‘imperfect’; however, material representations Roma and Sinti migration to the UK in the early 1900s are increasingly dislocated by racist generalisations in the British press and the assumption/appropriation of the cultural authority by academics (‘gypsyologists’). This, in turn, has resulted in multiple and disparate assemblages of archival material across the country relating to Roma and Sinti migration (often remaining out of community control).

Promisingly, Humap makes possible the visual collation of what is known rather than be ensnared by absences. The opportunity to build upon pinned geographical locations and previously ‘unfindable’ photographs with rich, textured narratives is made possible by community collaboration in a software that interactively layers geographical space-time with archival material.

An example of Humap showing the University of Liverpool’s ‘Mapping Memory’ project

Relating to my MA study of Archives and Records Management, the MRIS project engages multiple strands of critical archival theory with its principle objective; ensuring the usability and accessibility of the collection. Compassionate archival practice creates space to negotiate how previously harmful collecting practices can be mitigated in the present to avoid recreating or perpetuating traumatic interactions between the GLS archive and the community it purports to represent. This became a key element of my process when surveying GLS correspondence.

The finding aid used by SCA is helpfully flexible in allowing additional layers of contextualisation and description. When working with particular periods of GLS correspondence, eg. late 1930-40s, it seemed necessary, both in consideration of potential users and recognition of the subjects of the correspondence, to flag the material with Nazi iconography or policy. Similarly, my close reading of the collection series highlighted additional material that requires more compassionate archival care. Flagging photographs of children, as well as, racist language, and sexist/violent descriptions of women demonstrates a recognition and move away from the colonial, ethnographic interpretation of Roma and Sinti lives that were foundational to the practice of GLS “research” and publishing. An awareness of the presence of this material, made visible by sensitivity flags, promotes dialogue between the archive and its users; particularly, in regard to collaborative records-management approaches (eg. repatriation and record closure). Acknowledging potentially traumatic material emphasises the necessity of archival approaches that redress the unequal power-dynamics and colonial mindsets which facilitated the breadth, extent, and intimacy of collated GLS material.