“Edutainment”

When I was in college, my history professor showed my class two books. One was the latest Steven Ambrose bestseller. I don’t remember which one, but it had something to do with a war. The second was about farming in Latin America from, let’s say, 1785 to 1792. Now the first one was a bestseller, but as my professor said, probably ten copies of the second sold, and his mother bought five of them. He’s exaggerating, of course, but not by much.

You’re probably not aware of this, but there’s a war being fought over the very heart and soul of our history. On one side stands the stuffy, elbow patch wearing, pipe smoking, gray haired, big-word using academic. On the other side stands everybody else who creates history. They’re like two superpowers in a not-so cold yet not-quite nuclear war. Let’s call one country Academistan and the other Publicia. Both know, and I mean know, and by that I mean are absolutely convinced beyond a shadow of doubt that their way is the right way. So every day they fight, lobbing shots across a heavily protected border in a war that’s been fought so hard and for so long that only Orwell himself could imagine a longer one.

And then there are people like me, people with no formal allegiance, stuck in the not-so demilitarized zone between the two front lines. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not Sweden. I’m simply sick of the war. You see, I had a job interview recently, and the interviewer asked me what I felt about “edutainment,” a word that, when spoken by an Academistani, is punishable only by being forced to watch reruns of “Yes, Dear” for a week straight. (This is hell for an Academistani, trust me.) “Edutainment” is the systematic deceit of American youth by giving them an education through entertaining methods. It’s surreptitiously vile, of course, but occasionally effective. A lot of museums across the globe are using “edutainment” to pack people in the doors so their education staff can collect their big fat paychecks.

You see, when I talk about edutainment like I just did, it sounds evil, right? I don’t believe it is – by definition, anyway. When people are in a comfortable environment faced with labels and interactives and artifacts they can understand, they learn more. And that is our job, isn’t it? To teach. To touch. To give the visitor something they did not have before they walked in our door. Most people don’t like feeling stupid, and yet Academistanis would place a large obstacle – the learning curve – in front of the visitor’s desire to explore. I don’t believe the academic and public views are separate. I believe the two countries, like most warring countries, have much more in common with each other than not. Most people who have knowledge of any kind want to share it, and most people who don’t yet own that piece of knowledge are eager to acquire it. We don’t need to fight a war, daily, constantly, to battle for our visitor’s souls.

But I still felt a chill when my interviewer asked me about “edutainment.” I hope I picked the side she was on, or at least came off sounding like Sweden.