Introduction

Change is hard; some might even say difficult. It does not come without risk, but it does offer the opportunity of great reward.

As oral historians, we are familiar with change. We have moved from attempting to rapidly scribble down the thoughts of our narrators, to wire recording devices and on to reel-to-reel and cassette tape recorders. Increasingly, oral historians conduct their interviews with digital media: audio and video, streaming to online applications.

Just as we have changed format, so have our ideas about oral history transformed. Rather than the great white men's anecdotes that we once collected, we now contemplate life from the "bottom up," seeking the stories of those whose lives might otherwise go unheralded. Moreover, we debate the concepts of aural history, empowerment, shared authority, linguistic structures, memory, its creation, and its impact.

Now comes the time to reconsider the presentation of oral history, and, accordingly, to reconsider the manner by which we conduct our craft. Our switch to Oxford University Press as a publisher for The Oral History Review provides us with unique opportunities. Not only can subscribers now see the journal online before it reaches print stage but they can also access the journal online to delve the sources created and utilized by the authors published.

For instance, with a point and click, a reader can hear the words of a Columbine parent describing the horror of the school shootings or an elderly resident of Michigan telling what it was like growing up Dutch, albeit having been born in the U.S. The features made possible by our switch to Oxford University Press allow us to access photographs and moving pictures, detailed statistical analyses, or background materials, such as songs, chants, maps, factory sounds or … .

The challenge, however, to publishing such materials is to have them submitted. So, dear reader, here is your challenge: think about the ways you can augment your essay, ways by which it could be made substantively different or theoretically stronger; consider the broader ramifications of your work, not only for yourself but also for the readers and practitioners to come. We look forward to your labors and promise to publish the best. We will work with you to prepare the technology to make this possible. Technophobes fear not!

This plea for new ways of contemplating and publishing does, in no way, detract from the fine essays of this particular issue of The Oral History Review. For your contemplation, this time are two essays examining aspects of Hurricane Katrina. Stephen Sloan asks us to think about the "shouts and silences," while Anna Hirsch and Claire Dixon contemplate the role of creative writings drawn from oral histories.

In this same vein, Carolyn Mears explores the 1999 Columbine High School massacre, using her narrators' words to prepare free form verse. And Peter Monteath provides us the opportunity to contemplate World War II-era Germany and those who suffered under the dictates of the Third Reich.

In order not to devote an entire issue to matters dark and sorrowful, Peter Ester's essay "'It was very, very churchy': Recollections of Older Dutch-Americans on Growing up in Holland, Michigan" provides a lighter look at the uses to which oral history can be put, delving the lives of first-generation Americans in a devoutly structured Dutch community.

As always, let me know what you like and do not like about the Review. I look forward to hearing from you, particularly if you wish to take advantage of the new opportunities provided by our new format and publisher.

Happy reading!