Community Healing and Justice: What is our Role?
Heritage sites that offer interpretation of complex stories and multiple perspectives have incredible potential to play a part in healing and justice work. Interpreters who bring in various lived experiences alongside objective facts can create space for exploration and empathy, and help audiences imagine a path forward that heals wounds of the past and creates social space where everyone can thrive. Getting all the facts into the mix can be uncomfortable, and that very discomfort can raise questions to be explored. I think that’s a good thing. Those are the programs I seek out as an audience member (even at zoos, aquariums, and parks – this isn’t just a historical site thing!)
But this work is under pressure. Recent directives urge sites to present only “positive, unifying” images of America. Some even encourage the public to report signage or events that “disparage” Americans. That’s not patriotism, that’s erasure. It’s historical lobotomy. I’ve spoken to countless professionals who are deeply unsettled by this trend.
There is no doubt that it requires bravery to keep diving into touchy subjects when the fear of funding loss or getting caught in the outrage machine is a real possibility. That said, getting into uncomfortable territory with visitors has always required a little bravery, and we can capitalize on that as we decide what role we want to play in healing and justice work.
First things first: Let Your Mission Lead
When I teach interpretation, one of the first lessons is this: an organization’s mission statement is the first stop on deciding if an initiative is the right choice for them. Whether your organization is rooted in natural history, cultural heritage, or science education, your mission, vision, or purpose statement can guide you to the precise role that is right for you.
That said, if you’ve ever worked with me, you’ve undoubtedly heard me say that the work we do has the potential to change the world, one person at a time. That includes being a site for truth-telling, repair, belonging, and growth. Our job as interpreters isn’t to script comfort, it’s to hold space for truth. Sometimes that truth is painful. Sometimes it’s healing. Maybe, your work will be both.
So, what can that look like?
Truths, Plural
Let’s define truth. It’s everywhere in the conversation at the moment. People want truth and only the truth. But what is true when our understanding of a subject is always evolving as new evidence and perspectives are uncovered?
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission offers a helpful four-truth model:
Forensic truth (just the facts)
Personal truth (lived experiences)
Social truth (systems and context)
Healing truth (truth-telling as reconciliation)
We don’t reach truth by clinging to one version. We get there by holding multiple truths in conversation.
Yesterday, I was discussing this with students. We talked about how biased sources, like diaries and letters, offer invaluable insight. Five people can write about the same event and give five completely different (and valid) interpretations, depending on their role, status, and experience. One may have benefited from the event. Others may have suffered. All of their perspectives are personal truths.
Add in the forensic facts, the social context, and the consequences, and you begin to see the full picture. It’s not a tidy story, but a deeper one. One that invites empathy, reflection, and maybe even healing.
When we oversimplify or shy away from injustice to protect feelings, we don’t create unity. We create silence. And silence helps no one.
Calling People In
So, how do we call people into this kind of exploration? After all, even interested listeners might be uncomfortable hearing truths that challenge their worldview or question things they’ve benefited from.
I’ve built entire trainings on this, but here are a few pro-tips to get you started:
Name the discomfort. Tell people up front that the conversation may get uncomfortable, but you’ll navigate it together. Some might opt out, but those who stay will feel more prepared and more supported.
Be mindful with language. We all use terms we assume are neutral but aren’t. If you must use potentially polarizing language, define your terms. If you can, consider rephrasing in plain language that invites understanding without pushing buttons.
Practice being an impartial facilitator. Impartial doesn’t mean neutral. It means you don’t put your thumb on the scale. If someone with a different worldview feels you’d judge them for their beliefs, they won’t stay in the conversation. People believe their values make them good. If you can represent their views the way they would, you earn their trust.
Ask self-reflection questions. Instead of telling people what to think, ask what it feels like to face a tough choice. To risk or sacrifice for the common good. To live with the consequences of others’ decisions. Invite them to connect their own life experience to the story you're telling.
Interpretation doesn’t have to solve these issues. But the right preparation can make space for reflection, honesty, and growth. And that matters.
What If...
Back when I was binge-watching Marvel everything, I got hooked on their What If… series, alternate-universe stories that flipped the familiar and explored new perspectives. I think about those stories a lot when I hear calls to focus only on “American glory.”
Because what if…
What if we defined glory as the courage to look honestly at our mistakes and the will to do better?
What if our national pride came from creating more justice, more thriving, more space for more people?
What if “disparagement” meant erasing the struggles and triumphs of entire communities and we reported that?
What if instead of using words like unifying to erase, we use them to include?
Maybe it’s a slightly naïve form of resistance.
Or maybe it’s the beginning of something braver. Glorious even.
Find Your Role
Taking on the role of impartial facilitator and meeting visitors where they are is hard. Especially when we care so deeply about helping those who have been harmed again and again and again. But welcoming all perspectives, without demanding agreement as the price of entry into the conversation, creates space where more people will drop their guard and explore with us.
While we can’t fix deeply ingrained, longstanding injustice alone, we can:
Name what needs naming
Stop protecting comfort over truth
Choose to present complexity
Ask thought-provoking questions
Make room for curiosity, reflection, even grief
Keep people and all their varied, messy truths in the conversation
We don’t do this work because it’s easy.
We do it because it matters.
— Kristin