Museums have become a recent endeavor of mine.
It was after studying the Old Testament, using archeology to write a commentary on each chapter of the thirty-nine books, that my need for material evidence conspired. What does an ancient slingshot look like? What about a cherubim?
I sought out the spaces to find these answers, and if I could not venture abroad, museums across the United States was where I wanted to be.
I am a senior at the University of Michigan, currently finishing up my last semester, and graduating with a bachelors in Ancient Near Eastern Studies. The degree is focused on the study of ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, exactly how I wanted it. I did not want to solely study ancient Israel or learn theology, but I wanted to understand the cultural context that influenced Israel, allowing me to write my own theological conclusions.
I have taken classes from ancient Egyptian religion, Egyptian archeology, the narration of Egypt, museum exhibitions of Egypt, the history and culture of Mesopotamia to language courses in Classical Hebrew and Middle Egyptian--yes, Michigan teaches hieroglyphs.
I originally entered the program with all intention to continue on to graduate school. Now, as I receive acceptance letters, I am faced not only with the decision of which program but the question of "Is it worth it?"
I do not believe I wasted anytime time at the University of Michigan. I attempted to create and partake in opportunities related to the ancient world. I have twice attended the American School of Oriental Research’s annual conference, an organization that promotes the research of the ancient Near East and Mediterranean world. It was at my second attendance that I presented a paper under the museum category, titled “Population Groups Represented in the Ancient Near East and Mediterranean Museum: The Exclusivity of Artifacts and Impact on Visitors”. I also attended the American Research Center in Egypt’s annual conference, an organization that promotes the research of ancient Egypt. I have been able to travel to the Penn Museum at the University of Pennsylvania and Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago to conduct research. I held two summer internships under the Assistant Professor of Assyriology in my department. Additionally, it is through my connection to the University of Michigan that I became a docent at the Kelsey Museum of Archeology, a museum that specializes in the study of the ancient Near East, Egypt, and Mediterranean world. All of which would not have been possible without the generosity of my department's faculty members' time and funding from the University of Michigan.
It was my involvement with the Kelsey Museum of Archeology that led me to structure my senior thesis around museum studies. Rather than focusing on the the artifacts on display, I became more interested in the history of museums themselves.
I chose to compare three university museums that specialize in the ancient world: The Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago, the University Museum at the University of Pennsylvania, and the Kelsey Museum of Archeology. I chose university museums because as a potential graduate student and an aspiring professor, I wanted to better understand students interaction with museums across prestigious campuses.
As I investigated these museums' origins, I questioned why things were the way they were. Henry Breasted, "the father of Egyptology" established the Oriental Institute "as research laboratory for the use of the investigation of the early human career, especially the transition from savagery to enlightened life; of the emergence of civilized societies; and of the Oriental background of European and American Civilization.” Why did he believe that humans were savages before the enlightenment? In 1910, the Penn Museum budgeted for maintenance and excavation at $3,500,000 per year (equivalent to $90,773,383.84 in 2019). Why was the museum's budget so generous? Who gave donations and where was the money allotted?Like the Kelsey Museum, why were these museums on university campuses?
I argue that the artifacts on display such as bowls, jewelry, clay tablets inscribed with text, figurines, etc. show that we are not so different from those of the ancient world. We may use technology that looks different, or contribute a phenomenon to a different source of power, but all is a means to an end. We still share similar social, political, environmental, economic, and spiritual concerns.
If this is true, why does it seem that the narrative of artifacts has changed with each new era? In the 19th century, Romanticism influenced the “secret knowledge” of the past, needing to be uncovered to be revealed. In the 20th century, Biblical scholars encouraged excavation to recover evidence from the holy lands to prove the Bible's authority. Simultaneously, Darwin’s Origin of Species encouraged the idea that humans progress. The need to uncover the past was fundamental to understand adaptation and survival of the fittest. This led to a more scientific approach towards artifacts, analyzing them as data rather than as treasure. Now, in the 21st century, there is a discussion of cultural heritage, "Who do these artifacts belong to?" I argue that these changes are due to political, social, and economic shifts that influence the narrative of who is deemed important at the time. Thus, histories are sought after and put on display in the form of an artifact to authenticate a group of people's importance.
As for the artifacts themselves, they remain the same. Not only do we still use similar objects in our daily lives but there still remains an unequal balance of power between groups of people. Thus, We are not so different from those of the ancient world.
Not only did I invest my leisure time inside museums of the ancient world, but I invested my academic and future career.
I wanted to understand students' experiences that were outside of my own in order to learn how to help engage students.
Shifts in power change the dialogue of artifacts.
As I began to ask why? I began to uncover that the artifacts on display are more than data collections of what is important—but who.
"Is it worth it to dedicate my career, my years, my life, to the study of the ancient world?"