An Interpreter In Training

The staff at Conner Prairie oftentimes refer to first-person historical interpretation as “paid schizophrenia,” and from what I’ve seen so far, this label is certainly appropriate. Where else are you hired to be someone you are not, trained to act as someone you are not, and paid for being someone you are not? Indeed, you could wake up and go to work a different person everyday. At Conner Prairie, the interpreters greet each other by asking, “And who are you today?” As if they don’t know each other by now! It’s all part of the theatrical chaos that occurs behind the scenes at this living history museum. Every morning the interpreters begin their day at a staff briefing where they review who’s who in the village on that particular day. An interpreter could be a mother with four children one day and a widow with no descendants the next. It all depends on what role you are trained to assume and what character you have been assigned for that day As you can imagine, this frequent change in interpreters’ names and roles complicated my effort, as a new employee, to learn the names of my co-workers. I was faced with the daunting challenge of learning each person’s legal name as well as his or her character name. I oftentimes confused the two. During my first two weeks at Conner Prairie, I frequently toured through Prairietown to acquaint myself with the interpreters and the setting of the village. As I ventured from building to building, I introduced myself as an intern for Steve Cox. Almost without fail, the interpreters cautiously responded by inquiring, “Are you one of us?” The question implies that the interpreters are members of an alien nation which, knowing some of them quite well, is a definite possibility. Forming a Star Trek greeting with my hand, I respond to their question by saying, “Yes. I am one of you.” Again, this is all part of the oddity characteristic of a living history museum. At lunch time, interpreters disperse, in full costume, to the local McDonald's and Burger King to purchase their modern meals. There is nothing more humorous than watching a nineteenth-century German housewife inhale a burrito from Taco Bell. Indeed, the entertainment at Conner Prairie abounds, extending well beyond the confines of the village. The museum staff justifiably refer to first-person historical interpretation as “paid schizophrenia.”