Understanding the Smithsonian’s Role in American History

The Smithsonian Institution is often referred to as the nation’s attic, which seems a bit off. I mean, attics are typically just about storage, right? The Smithsonian, on the other hand, plays a crucial role in how we understand ourselves as Americans.

This responsibility feels even more significant as the U.S. marks its 250th anniversary while also transitioning to new leadership at the Smithsonian. There’s quite a discussion happening about how American history is presented there. Recently, a review by the White House has pointed fingers at the National Museum of American History, suggesting that ideology is pushing aside a more unified understanding of our historical narrative.

Leaders and historians at the Smithsonian have defended its academic independence. They warn that allowing political pressures to dictate the version of history we tell can be dangerous. It’s not about picking sides; we need to balance different perspectives.

Outgoing Smithsonian Secretary Lonnie Bunch emphasized that the institution needs to showcase both the highlights and low points of our history. He has framed America not just as a physical location, but as an ideal—aspiring toward liberty, fairness, justice, and equality.

But one can’t help but wonder: is the Smithsonian accurately portraying the American experience?

A tougher, more nuanced question arises when considering the balance: how can our national museums present both the uplifting and unsettling aspects of our history? Over the last twenty-five years, I’ve been involved with museums and historical organizations in Virginia. That experience taught me that upholding historical integrity goes beyond just presenting facts—it’s about context, proportion, and perspective.

It’s vital that America’s museums tell our story with honesty, acknowledging our failures, contradictions, and moments when we’ve strayed from our founding principles. However, these shortcomings shouldn’t become the lens through which we view the entire American experience.

The narrative of our nation is remarkable when viewed in its entirety. A group of colonies boldly claimed that certain rights aren’t granted by governments. Then, Americans constructed a lasting constitutional republic grounded in representative governance, individual freedoms, and the rule of law. Such ideals fundamentally shifted the course of human history.

The nation that emerged from those ideals survived its own civil war, expanded civil rights, welcomed waves of immigrants, became a scientific powerhouse, triumphed over fascism and communism, and even landed humans on the moon.

When America hasn’t lived up to its principles, subsequent generations have returned to those ideals, demanding better. It’s crucial to differentiate between a critical examination of America and an outlook that encourages cynicism. A well-regarded national museum should embrace the former while steering clear of the latter.

Museums inevitably make choices—deciding which artifacts to display, what stories to emphasize, and the context in which these stories are framed. It’s possible for specific facts to be accurate, yet if they’re pieced together without care, they can present a skewed impression of history.

The Smithsonian must resist any interpretation that begins with current political or ideological frameworks and then seeks to reinterpret history to fit those molds. While history can certainly inform today’s conversations, it should be approached on its own terms without undue contemporary influence.

A shift from one political view to another isn’t a solution, either.

The Smithsonian has weathered the leadership of different political administrations over the years. Its credibility stems from its independence, scholarly work, and the trust of the public. It’s critical that the exhibits in our national museums remain steadfast against the tides of changing political power.

James Smithson envisioned the Smithsonian as a place dedicated to the “increase and diffusion of knowledge.” Fast forward two centuries, and it now houses significant artifacts belonging to all of us. Think of General George Washington’s uniform, Lincoln’s hat, the Star-Spangled Banner, the Wright Flyer, Harriet Tubman’s hymnal, the Greensboro lunch-counter stools, and the Apollo 11 command module.

These items collectively narrate a powerful story of ambition, struggle, achievement, and progress.

No single curator owns this narrative. It doesn’t belong to any president, political faction, academic trend, or generation. We collectively hold this story in trust. This principle is especially relevant as we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary. It should be a time for thoughtful reflection—though reflection shouldn’t devolve into self-criticism.

This semiquincentennial shouldn’t become a somber reflection solely fixated on cataloging our flaws while overlooking our triumphs.

There’s a lot to celebrate.

When visitors come to the Smithsonian, they should leave with a deeper understanding of our history that includes both our failures and our accomplishments. They should feel a sense of pride in what we have built, moved by the sacrifices made, grateful for the inheritances passed down, and motivated to contribute to our society’s growth.

Yes, they should even feel proud.

Pride in one’s nation doesn’t negate historical comprehension. In fact, grounded in truth, it can very well be one of its outcomes.

The Smithsonian doesn’t need to dictate what Americans should think about their own country. Rather, it should provide the artifacts, the research, the context, and the perspective necessary for individuals to understand the heritage that is rightfully theirs.

We must tell both the tough and the inspiring stories. Trust Americans with both sides of the narrative.

After 250 years, the American story is still being written. The Smithsonian has the responsibility to preserve it faithfully, interpret it authentically, and ensure that future generations grasp why it is a narrative worth celebrating.