Interpreting Enslavement in the North at Philipsburg Manor

Presentation given at the Huguenot Historical Society by Margaret L. Vetare, Director of Reinterpretation, and Michael A. Lord of Associate Director of Reinterpretation on November 3, 2002.

Part 1: Introduction, and Eight Steps to Reinterpretation

Margaret L. Vetare
Director, Philipsburg Manor Reinterpretation

Thank you very much for the introduction and for inviting us to speak today. As representatives of Philipsburg Manor and, by extension, the museum community, it's important to acknowledge with gratitude the work of all the individuals who have spoken earlier today and the fields that they represent. As public historians, the work of museums like ours is not so often the pursuit of original research or field work as it is the distillation of the research and writing of archaeologists, academic historians, and others into accessible public programs. So while Historic Hudson Valley has certainly engaged in original research over the decades, we are deeply indebted to and reliant upon the work of academics.

I want to spend half of our time today talking to you about the background and some of the pragmatic aspects of developing a new interpretation for Philipsburg Manor, and then I'll turn the podium over to Mike Lord who'll share with you a conceptual framework for the visitor experience.

Philipsburg Manor is a nationally significant survival of a late 17th/early 18th-century milling and trading complex owned by an Anglo-Dutch family of merchants, tenanted by farmers of diverse European backgrounds, and operated by enslaved persons of African origin. The site is of particular interest because of the size of the enslaved community and the quality of its documentation. At 1750, the time period we interpret, there were 23 enslaved people living at Philipsburg Manor-the only full-time residents of the part of the manor that surrounded the gristmill, wharf, manor house, and farmland retained by the Philipses. It is a living history site where visitors gain their primary knowledge through interactions with interpreters and through sensory experiences of immersion in the daily activities of the mid-18th century. As such, we rely on hands-on learning opportunities, a strong period clothing program, and a variety of interpretive techniques such as third-person and museum theater. Through daily programs and special events we serve the general public, and through our school programs we serve nearly 11,000 students annually.

Since the 1960s, the Philipsburg Manor staff has taught colonial history through its demonstrations of period agricultural activities such as grain farming and animal husbandry, commercial endeavors such as milling, and cultural expressions such as clothing styles, decorative arts, foodways, and social customs. However, by focusing rather narrowly on the lives of the Philipse family and, to a lesser extent, their tenants, Philipsburg fell short of achieving its full educational potential. In recent years, as we expanded our perspective to include all the residents of the Manor--from the Philipses to the bound laborers of African descent--the response of colleagues and the community has been overwhelming. We know that Philipsburg Manor offers a powerful story and a unique opportunity to contribute to our national understanding of slavery in the North. But what steps have we taken to make the move forward?

Zeitgeist influences what sorts of public programs museums produce. Public sentiment in combination with political climate, as well as the research interests of academic historians, help shape the focus of a museum's interpretive program. It was about fifteen years ago that Historic Hudson Valley started incorporating the history of African Americans into its interpretation, particularly at the two sites where people of African descent had been held in slavery: Philipsburg Manor and Van Cortlandt Manor. Dr. Williams-Myers referred to the excellent work of Jacquetta Haley towards exploring the voices and the roles of the African people at Historic Hudson Valley's sites. But the effort to make slavery in the north the most important theme at Philipsburg Manor has really been the effort of the past five years.

Knowing that we wanted to make major changes to the property, including the reinstallation of a staid and somewhat misleading manor house, we sought outside help. We began commissioning additional research from consultant historians such as Dennis Maika and Susan Klepp. With the support of a planning grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities of $40,000 in 1997-98, we began the reinterpretation project under the guidance of a distinguished group of scholars, including Dr. Williams-Myers. During two weekend conferences at Philipsburg Manor and through their continuing involvement with our organization, this interdisciplinary team strengthened the intellectual foundation of the project. Additionally, the team guided us in acquiring new staff members who have moved the project from the planning to the implementation stage, and helped shape new interpretive and installation plans. In July, 2000 the NEH awarded an additional $300,000 for the implementation of the project. We are currently in that implementation phase, and expect our plans to be fully realized by the end of 2002.

Because many museums are just beginning to discover how they can put in place a more whole interpretation of American history, I thought it might be helpful to explain our process and offer it as a possible template for others. The process, though full of circuitous paths, can be broken down into eight basic parts.

1. ASSESS THE SITE'S HISTORY, DOCUMENTATION, AND RESOURCES

First we had to assess the site's history and available documentation in the context of contemporary relevance in order to determine the most important messages our site was uniquely positioned to tell. In the case of Philipsburg Manor, the three themes that emerged most clearly were the story of northern slavery, commercial enterprise, and cultural diversity in early New York. The site's archaeology (features like the wharf, the mill, the bake-house) and its written documentation (port records, wills, probate inventories, and others) assured us that the commercial nature of agricultural commodities processing and export in the lower Hudson Valley was critical to understanding the purpose of the manor and the international significance of 18th-century operations like Philipsburg.

The site's documentation regarding the African presence on the manor (not limited to captives held by the Philipse family but also those individuals held by the Philipses' tenants) assured us that we were uniquely well-suited and indeed obliged to teach about the experience of slavery in the north. All the concepts critical to understanding not only the nature of enslavement in the colonial north but also to creating a picture of individuals, not just a mass of nameless laborers, were found within the site's documentation. In the documents we found evidence of the variety of skilled jobs held by Philipsburg's enslaved people, from milling to navigating boats to language interpretation to managing a dairy; the formation of families against odds; the diversity of African cultures represented within New York society; and the whole range of individual responses to enslavement, such as running away, participation in insurrection, or passive resistance.

The multicultural nature of early New York, not only in the diversity of African cultures but also in the diversity of European cultures, is a logical outgrowth of the colony's commercial endeavors. Once again, this theme emerged clearly from a careful review of documents such as rent rolls and receipts, business records revealing the Philipses' various business partners, and in runaway slave advertisements that note the great diversity of languages spoken by early New Yorkers.

Second, we had to assess our resources, both human and financial. We considered whether we had the expertise we needed in-house, and determined we needed the help of specialists in African American history, colonial economics, and other areas. In turn, we assessed our financial resources and concluded we would need assistance in order to secure the services of these specialists as well as to implement some of the changes we knew we wanted to make. In our case, we asked for assistance from the National Endowment for the Humanities because our goals and theirs were well-matched.

2. IDENTIFY AND INCLUDE THE MUSEUM'S STAKEHOLDERS IN THE PROCESS OF REINTERPRETATION

Stakeholders, or constituents, of the museum are numerous. Before the people responsible for programming rush headlong into a new interpretation, it is critical to identify who those stakeholders are and understand their perspectives and concerns. For example, it is essential to have the support of the museum's Board of Trustees. It is important to have the input and participation of the current staff who have been accustomed to viewing the museum, and their jobs within the museum, in one way. And it is crucial to have the invaluable perspective of the community whose history is about to come to the forefront, if their history has not been told before. In Philipsburg Manor's case, we formed an African American Advisory Board from the community that has guided us forward with a dedication that has been unflagging throughout the multi-year process.

3. DOCUMENT THE TRANSITION AND THE NEW PRODUCT CAREFULLY

For the sake of institutional history it is important to track in written form the changes that characterize a reinterpretation. For the sake of efficient training of staff, it is important that new interpretive messages and furnishing plans (and the research that supports them) be clearly expressed. In our case we have created three key documents: an Interpretive Plan, an Installation Plan, and a Training Manual. The Interpretive Plan establishes the important main messages, and also designates specific learning outcomes intended for each interpretive space. At a living history museum this is critical in ensuring a consistent message is delivered despite variations among interpreters' styles and methods. The Installation Plan, which explains the rationale and content for each room setting, was created in tandem with the Interpretive Plan with the intent that the room settings reinforce the interpretive messages. The Training Manual provides the historical and methodological readings that support the Interpretive Plan, as well as bibliographies for additional reading.

4. TRAINING

As mentioned above, new content may require bringing in subject specialists, not only to advise those creating a new interpretation but also to help train the front-line staff. We have been able to draw on specialists like Graham Russell Hodges, Warren Perry, and Margaret Wade-Lewis when training our interpretive staff. In the case of Philipsburg Manor, new content has also required training beyond historical matters. Slavery needs to be discussed in ways that are acutely sensitive to visitors' emotions and previous education, so we have provided our staff with sensitivity training and with conflict resolution training. Our new Interpretive Plan has also required training in new interpretive techniques, specifically in the use of museum theater.

5. EMBED THE NEW MESSAGES IN THE MUSEUM'S WHOLE SYSTEM

The messages a museum communicates do not come only from interpreters' mouths or from exhibit text labels. They can and should be communicated systemically throughout the institution. For example, at Philipsburg Manor we have asked ourselves the following questions: Are African Americans represented across the institution, from interpretation through administration and the Board of Trustees? Do our publications (brochures, special event publicity, press releases, web site, catalogs) reflect the fact that we teach the important history of slavery in the north? Does our Museum Shop stock relevant merchandise and books? Do telephone receptionists know how to talk accurately and sensitively about the reinterpreted site's themes when assisting callers? The push to be able to answer each of these questions positively keeps us focused on our goals.

6. OBSERVE, COACH, AND EVALUATE STAFF

Any time a transition to a new interpretation is made, additional efforts at observation must be made. The time and money spent on observing, coaching, and evaluating staff toward their delivery of the new interpretation must be factored into the assessment of the museum's human and financial resources. People like to do what they are good at doing, and veterans don't generally enjoy feeling like they're "beginners" again. Add to that the worries many interpreters have about offending visitors when discussing difficult issues, and it becomes clear that constant vigilance is needed to ensure that the new messages, not the old ones, are being delivered consistently.

Following tours and observing won't usually be enough. Strong follow-up in terms of one-on-one coaching, making sure interpreters have all the tools they need to do their job well, and encouraging them to share their success stories with one and another will all be required of administrators.

7. CONDUCT SUMMATIVE EVALUATIONS WITH VISITORS AND ADJUST PROGRAM ACCORDINGLY

No matter how much work has gone into the process of reinterpreting a museum, some adjustments will inevitably need to be made to the "final" product. Staff will need to observe the success of any new logistical changes and log their observations over a period of time so administrators can make adjustments accordingly. Likewise, visitors should be surveyed in order to assess their grasp of the main interpretive messages and additional program adjustments and/or staff training should be made.

8. DISSEMINATE INFORMATION ABOUT THE PROCESS AND PRODUCT OF REINTERPRETATION AS WIDELY AS POSSIBLE

In a museum setting, we have limited time in which to share the site's history and the larger historical context with our visitors. Most visitors have perhaps two hours to spend with us, so we have to make careful choices about the most salient things to communicate. But we can also look at other ways to disseminate information; our website as well as a variety of printed materials permits us to go into much greater depth than is practical during a visit to the site. For example, at Philipsburg Manor we produced a printed Teacher's Guide to Understanding the Enslaved World in New York and at Philipsburg Manor in response to frequent requests from teachers for guidance in teaching about slavery in the north. We designed it so that it could stand alone without requiring a visit to the museum. Another way for us to disseminate historical information is through presenting at conferences like this one. Because Philipsburg Manor is one of only a handful of museums in the area dealing with the subject of slavery in the north, we have a responsibility to share the information as widely as possible.

Likewise, we have been encouraged by the NEH to share information about the process of reinterpretation with as many of our professional colleagues as possible. Again, this is done through presentations at conferences and also, significantly, through more intimate connections with other museum institutions and graduate programs. At Philipsburg Manor we have hosted teams of colleagues from museums across the country who are looking for process models to follow or, sometimes, just for encouragement to tackle difficult or controversial subjects with confidence. This information sharing is an integral part of the reinterpretation process and contributes, we trust, to the museum field.

I'll turn the podium over to Michael Lord now.

Interpreting Enslavement in the North at Philipsburg Manor
Part 2: Eight Steps from Observation to Self-Discovery

Michael A. Lord
Associate Director, Reinterpretation

As you are now aware, Philipsburg Manor's interpretation focuses on the issues of enslavement, commerce and cultural pluralism. At Philipsburg, our visitors can see, touch, smell and sometimes taste the objects and products of a mid-18th century Hudson Valley mill and farm. But how do interpreters take the visitor beyond the physical environment and explain the one thing that we do not have-the people who lived on this site in the mid-18th century?

It's a daunting task. Visitors often have one perception of Philipsburg Manor-that of a quiet little farm nestled in a sleepy corner of the Hudson Valley made famous by Washington Irving. For the visitor gazing at the site from across the millpond, Philipsburg Manor represents the "Dutch Pastoral," a scene of tranquility and simplicity. Mention to the visitor that the site was created and run by one of the largest enslaved communities in the northern colonies and they look at you as though you just introduced the snake into Eden.

How do interpreters take the visitor from their picture-postcard preconceptions to a better understanding of the individuals who lived on the site? How do we get visitors to grasp the choices and dilemmas faced by this community of 23 enslaved men, women and children-a community which left no written documentation of their own? How do we get visitors to try to come to terms with an institution so cold-blooded and foreign to our life today that it screams out "You had to be there to really understand?"

Philipsburg Manor's interpretive plan focuses on answering one fundamental question for the visitor: "Why should I care?" Of course, no one can force a person to care. At best, what we do is provide visitors with a safe place, a forum, to piece together this story and-this is key-help them find its applicability within their own lives. At Philipsburg Manor, our interpreters try to take visitors on a journey-not just from the present to the past and back again-but also from observation to self-discovery.

The journey is in a series of steps. Each attempts to build upon the former. The first step is to provide visitors with a live site introduction. The site introduction gives visitors a sense that there is more to the story than meets the eye. The first glimpse most visitors have of Philipsburg is the "view from across the bridge." This is a photo taken from the visitor center and visitors must cross that bridge to enter the historic site. It's a great image, but its serenity can be overpowering.
Our site introduction begins where that iconic photo was taken. We set the time and place for the visitor and note the basics for each building-which are original, which are reconstructions, what work is performed at each site. After answering the "what" questions for the visitor (what is on the site? what years do you represent?), we then answer the "who" questions (who lived here, worked here?); 23 enslaved men, women and children in 1750. This is also where we introduce the notion of "mythbusting." As most folks will tell you-slavery never existed in the north, it was a "southern thing." Well, we address that myth immediately. Throughout the site, interpreters are trained to address a variety of misperceptions about enslavement in the colonial north, i.e. that slavery was less harsh in the north, or that the enslaved didn't resist or rebel, or that slaves couldn't read or write, or that slaves were all field hands or all domestics, etc.

Interpreters don't go into great detail in the introduction, just a 5-7 minute overview. They simply give visitors a "heads up" that such pastoral beauty is really (literally) only skin deep.

Once visitors enter the historic core, they are immersed in the sights, smells, sounds and activities of a milling, trading and agricultural complex circa 1750. As with many living history sites, original and reconstructed buildings dot the landscape, rare breed animals are maintained and set to work, and interpreters in period clothing talk, tour and set themselves to work with functional reproductions. Most important, however, is that visitors to Philipsburg have opportunities to participate in these activities and learn by experiencing the routine of day to day life.

At Philipsburg, as with all living history sites, the visitor first begins to understand the past from a physical or sensory level. Because of a commitment to teaching "hands-on," living history museums like Philipsburg are best equipped at answering two questions:

1. What did people do back then?
2. How did they do it?

These are our bread and butter questions. Let's face it, visitors don't come to living history sites to hear a lecture. Visit our mill and you will see what the enslaved miller, Caesar, did. Our current miller, Peter Curtis, will show you the skills and responsibilities necessary for turning grain into "gold." In the mill, you will hear the squeaks and knocks as wood, water, metal and stone come into contact with one another. You will open the mill gate and feel the rumbling of the mill shaft as it powers the entire operation. You just can't get that sensory experience in a lecture.

Active participation-get the visitor to try things, to watch how they were done, and you've got them hooked. Visitors have now taken the first step; they are observing how individuals interacted with objects and their environment.

Observing daily labor and answering activity-based questions, however, does not provide the depth or breadth necessary to understand the enslaved world. Additional methods to engage visitors are required to uncover the often subtle and sometimes brutal power struggles between slave and owner. In addition to demonstrating and explaining the rigors of daily labor (the "what" and "how" questions), interpreters at Philipsburg are prepared to explain some of the ideological and sociological factors which shaped the institution and the individual. Two additional questions must be posed for the visitor:

3. Why enslavement at Philipsburg?
4. How was it maintained?

Essentially, with the site introduction and various on-site activities, visitors have learned what was done, how it was done, and who did it. The questions above address the need to place the site within the context of its time-the "big picture"-why slavery and how did this system play out on site?

Of course, explaining the political, economic and cultural factors that led to African enslavement in the New World would take far longer than the 1-2 hours our visitors spend on-site. Moreover, these issues are not easily demonstrated through activity-based learning. In the realm of living history, where action is the prime educational tool, explaining the evolution of an ideology poses a difficult challenge.

At Philipsburg, we've chosen a dual approach to explaining these issues. First, the "big picture" issues are broken down into smaller chunks and dispersed throughout the site. They are part of what we call our Desired Learner Outcomes, or DLOs. DLOs provide the interpreter with a framework-every room or space interpreted on site has 2, 3, or 4 DLOs. This is the information we want the visitor to walk away with after they leave that particular room or space.

One part of explaining "why slavery at Philipsburg" means learning the mindset of slave owners. In the Manor House, the private bedchamber of Adolph Philipse is where we talk about his role as a politician, entrepreneur and member of the gentry elite. As a politician, Philipse signed legislation that defined and regulated slavery in New York-what became known as the New York Slave Codes. Law and slavery is touched upon. As an entrepreneur, Philipse was involved both in the slave trade and as a provisioner to feed the enslaved populations on the sugar islands. Commerce and slavery gets comment. As a member of the gentry elite, Philipse was expected to have "dependants" as a part of his position in society. Slaves were considered status symbols and 18th century culture gets a nod. Three DLO's covering politics, commerce and culture are covered in 3-5 minutes. This is not meant to be a dissertation. Interpreters are noting a piece of the size and scope of enslavement, and are doing so by linking objects in the room to the key interpretive messages. These and other DLOs are often repeated in slightly altered formats at other locations on-site.

The second approach used to explain issues at Philipsburg is through the use of museum theatre. We have a collection of 10-12 minute scripted scenes-vignettes, as we call them. We think of vignettes as "issue demonstrations." At Philipsburg, we have all sorts of daily demonstrations-how the mill works, how oxen are yoked, milking, spinning, cooking, threshing, winnowingÖ so why not demonstrate an issue?
Our primary interpretive technique at Philipsburg Manor is "third-person." This means that visitors may see interpreters dressed in period clothes and performing period tasks, but these interpreters are firmly rooted in the 21st century. They are not "living in the past." In general, with an issue as sensitive and emotional as enslavement, we want our visitors and interpreters to have the freedom to move back and forth between past and present. Third-person interpretation provides a certain objective distance from the subject. It enables interpreters to use hindsight when trying to explain the issue and allows visitors a certain level of comfort with a contemporary interpreter without the fear of asking an anachronistic question.

However, the biggest drawback with third-person is that it can be too distant, too removed from the subject. That's a good safety valve and we want that for both our visitors and interpreters, but there are other times when we need to show the emotional impact of enslavement. Museum theatre "personalizes the past." Our vignettes are based on visitor-derived questions or common misperceptions-mythbusting again. If we want the visitor to care, then big picture issues need to be brought down to a human scale.

One of those big picture questions-"how was slavery maintained?"-is very important to our visitors. We use third-person and museum theatre to explain the role of the overseer-a local tenant named Elbert Aertse-and his relationship with the enslaved community. One of the myths to bust is that successful management of an enslaved labor force rested solely on physical brutality; namely whippings and such. In the overseer's office (part of the manor house tour) and at the mill we explain the negotiated relationships that developed between labor and management. The overseer can provide both positive and negative incentives to maintain production-he can give extra provisions, travel passes to market or to visit loved ones, or he can take these away. In return, the enslaved community can maintain production or can retaliate with acts of passive or active resistance.

Explaining this complex relationship through third-person interpretation can be a long and tedious process. Rather than give up out of frustration, we can place the visitor there (sort of) through museum theatre. "Trying Times" is the vignette or "issue demonstration" that allows the visitor to hear a person's vocal inflection and wonder-"was that a veiled threat I just heard?" It allows visitors to see overseer Aertse's reaction when he feels he is being manipulated, or Caesar's pain when he learns the sale of his wife has been finalized. Museum theatre and third-person interpretation help visitors understand enslavement from both the head and the heart-the intellectual and emotional levels necessary to comprehend this institution.

Being immersed in the sights, smells and sounds of the past is a good way for visitors to be introduced to the culture of a particular time and place. But the experience of being "in the past" is illusionary and fleeting. The real world is only as far away as the parking lot. Visitors must be encouraged to compare the past with the present (resolving the paradox of living history) and establish relevance with today. Getting visitors to care about the past means connecting them to it. Therefore, the next two questions attempt to bring the museum's past into the visitor's present:
3. Why is this important?
4. How does this effect me?

Up until now, an external force (our interpretation) has provided the visitor with information. Connecting past with present, however, is primarily an internal process. Now the visitor begins to take agency-moving from learning to understanding.

At Philipsburg, we make the past relevant by showing visitors how the variety of African cultures maintained by those enslaved continues to have a powerful influence on American culture. As an occasional interpreter, I enjoy this part of the process best because I get to see visitors facial expressions change from skepticism to acknowledgement to respect as they begin to accept their African cultural connections.

African source cultures are covered extensively in the barn and farm areas. Interpreters also talk cultural pluralism in the lower levels of the manor house. However, showing visitors their own contemporary African cultural connections can be illustrated nearly anywhere on-site. For example: How many of us have toted around a notebook, handbag or umbrella? Most of us are familiar with the word "tote." This is a BaKongo word, "tota," meaning to carry. There are other obvious ones; "gumbo"-from "kigombo," common in several West African languages for thick soup; "Jitterbug," from the Mandinko "jitu-bag' meaning a type of fast dance. The words "hip" and "dig"-slang dating back to bebop? No. These are Wolof words meaning to understand, to be aware. There is an entire dictionary of African words in American language-words like "juke," "jive," "goober," "o.k."-etc.

What about our stories and legends? African trickster tales-stories about the weak using their wits to defeat a stronger or faster opponent. Small animals like rabbits, monkeys and spiders get over on lions, elephants and people. Anansi the spider in Akan culture became Nancy stories in the West Indies. Fanti and Ibo Rabbit tales were popularized by Joel Chandler Harris in the late 19th century as part of his Uncle Remus collection and in the 20th century have been retold in cartoon form as Bugs Bunny-a classic trickster.

For visitors-black and white-getting acquainted with their African cultural past personalizes the story of enslavement. Visitors don't have to feel guilty, alienated or angry due to our focus on the enslaved community. Although interpreters at Philipsburg address the physical and psychological brutality of slavery as an institution, interpreters also convey a respect for the cultures of those enslaved and their ability to survive in spite of the situation.

Essentially, by connecting the 18th century with the present, we've stopped placing the visitor in the past and have begun placing the past in the visitor. Visitors internalize this information and they can take it with them. If all goes according to plan, the interpreter has created an atmosphere conducive to the final step of the visitors process-self-discovery. Establishing a personal connection between the visitor and those who lived on the site should result in another question:
7. How would I have reacted in this situation?

Of course, this is a rhetorical question and interpreters should not attempt to answer it for the visitor. This is the question that makes it personal-moving from the interpreter teaching the visitor, to the visitor teaching him or herself.

Because the visitor has moved from an objective/intellectual discussion of enslavement to a subjective/emotional reaction to enslavement, it is also a time when the visitor is most sensitive or vulnerable. Handle with care! Moving from the objective to the subjective leaves the visitor open to new or alternative perceptions of the past. Previously held beliefs or assumptions can be re-examined and scrutinized as the visitor "sees" the past from a different perspective. If this process of internalization is successful, then the visitor should exit the site thinking:

8. I never thought of it that way before.

We cannot expect to achieve this result with every visitor. Other satisfactory responses from visitors would include: I learned something new today, or I was touched by your presentation today. The visitor's journey from observation to self-discovery marks the ultimate goal of understanding enslavement at Philipsburg Manor.

So, how do these steps answer the visitor's initial question; "Why should I care?" If successful, the visitor's concept of the past is both expanded and internalized. By learning new things about "then" and being shown how they are applicable to "now," visitors possess the tools necessary for examining their own perceptions and misperceptions. We can't make visitors use those tools, but at least we can show them where they are. Visitors "care" not so much because they learned something new about Philipsburg, but because they learned something new about themselves.

If that sounds a little saccharine, I assure you that is not the intent-we're a little more cynical than that and we don't expect to give visitors a life altering moment on-site. Providing visitors with a little food for thought is a best case scenario. But let's face it, the only way visitors will remember anything about Philipsburg's story-the story of colonial enslavement in the north and its effects on the commercial and cultural development of New York-is to make it "their" story and get them to connect it to their lives.

In conclusion, we hope that the visitor to Philipsburg Manor will experience a step by step process of moving from observation to self-discovery by finding relevance with the past.