AFTERWORD: FINNS: An Oral History

New Ipswich Historical Society

FINNS: An Oral History of Finnish-Americans in New Hampshire’s Monadnock Region

Afterward by Patricia Kangas Ktistes, Rockport, MA, June 12, 2023

AFTERWORD:

This oral history originated in 1997 as a thesis for the Master of Arts in Liberal Studies (MALS) degree program at Dartmouth College. Prior to enrolling, I worked at Dartmouth in communication and media relations, which taught me about interviewing. From April 1996 to mid-May 1997, I requested, recorded, transcribed, and edited stories about the lives of people in or from the greater Monadnock Region. In trying to combine these into a cohesive narrative, I expected to encounter roadblocks, and some were predictable:

• Persuading sources that their lives and experiences were indeed worth talking about;

• Reassuring sources who grew anxious and blanked out upon seeing a recording device;

• Trying to fairly represent opposing views, especially within families for whom certain topics were contentious;

• Dealing with sources who tried to use their interviews as a forum to promote ideas unrelated to the thesis.

Gathering information that is spoken in the moment requires intuition and patience. As humans, especially those unaccustomed to interviewing, we can ramble, backtrack, misremember, change our minds, etc. That’s okay—even desirable—because vital energy develops as people tell their stories. This process does more than just share information; it shares our humanity. Not everyone experiences an event the same way; people disagree but that makes stories interesting. Even as individuals, we may today describe something one way but tomorrow describe it differently. Oral history is a story-telling genre, an inexact art, not journalism or court testimony. After an interview, as sources we may want to re-think or clarify what we said. And that’s okay, too. The toughest interviews are of those who, fearful, constantly self-censor. They forget that how we speak may differ from how we write. They worry upon reading transcripts of what they’ve said. They disapprove of the casual manner in which they spoke; their grammatical errors and disorganized thinking; their choice of phrasing that may offend the wrong people. They then seize the opportunity to review their remarks and proceed to drain some of the life out of stories. But even that, though not optimal, can be okay as long as it’s in their authentic voices.

In editing dozens of interview transcripts, oral historians must make difficult decisions. Not all sources will be happy about what we leave out. But if we include everything, the result will be 1,000 pages nobody wants to read. Which material best supports a theme? Which should be scrapped? To assist MALS students in their projects, faculty advisors are tasked with answering such questions to keep things moving forward. Some of the unpredictable roadblocks I encountered in creating FINNS were daunting. Among them was the feedback of my principal faculty reader, a chief advisor assigned to me by the College. Before I could submit my oral history, I had to weigh his recommendations against those of three other readers whom I’d been allowed to select. My principal reader was renowned in academia; a tenured professor on whose judgment the MALS program relied. During a working lunch with him to discuss next steps for my 330-page rough draft, he insisted I not change anything in it. Not a word, he said.

I sat there, stunned. My gut said the unwieldy manuscript required heavy editing, but I was exhausted after 10 months and didn’t know how to start. At this point, he insisted, demonstrate your rebellion against Finnish-American culture. Write more, he urged. Include print articles as context to counterbalance the insider stories. Then analyze and criticize. So I went home and attempted to write about rebelling, but it wasn’t the reason I’d conceived the project in the first place. His advice felt wrong, but I was afraid if I didn’t follow it, I wouldn’t graduate. We were in the final weeks allowed to complete requirements for the MALS degree.

The late Myrna Katz Frommer, my second faculty reader, offered a solution. She and her husband, the late Harvey Frommer, were native New Yorkers and relatively new adjunct faculty at Dartmouth. Harvey, a nationally prominent sports historian, told me that years ago in a City newsroom he’d even heard of the legendary 1930s Fighting Finns basketball team of N.H. The Frommers was extensively published, including several critically acclaimed oral histories.

When I related to Myrna the advice of my principal reader, she appeared horrified. Oral history, she insisted, is about preserving a culture, not railing against it. In your rough draft, she said, mine for the gold. Cut the word count by one-third. Keep the best material and eliminate repetition. Her advice felt right.

Worst among unpredictable elements during that period was my sister’s mental health crisis. Only much later, after she passed in February 2023, did our family learn that among her diagnosis was bipolar disorder. In hindsight, this explained much of what happened to her. As a result, before completing FINNS, I had time for only one course of action. I could either (a) postpone dealing with my sister, let other family members try to cope with her situation, and focus on my thesis. Transform the oral history into everything it should be. Transcribe the remaining interviews left in limbo. Incorporate photos and graphics. Follow recommendations of two professors and render it suitable for submitting to University Press of New England for consideration. All of this would require working on the manuscript throughout that summer. Or I could (b) submit the cut-down draft—warts and all—to the College, pray it would pass, and assist my family in helping my sister. This would involve commuting 50 miles each way over several months to the Monadnock Region to take her shopping for necessities. To meet and prepare for her disability hearing. To consult her medical team and attend appointments. To visit her in the hospital. No matter what our family tried, her condition deteriorated. I chose (b). Fortunately for me, the College accepted FINNS as submitted and I graduated. Then-Prime Minister of Finland Paavo Lipponen spoke at our commencement. We were introduced and he requested a copy of my thesis. That day should have been momentous. But I felt ashamed of the oral history’s flaws; I wimped out and didn’t send it. There was no time to dwell on this, however. I was deeply in debt and needed to find a job fast: my student loans were coming due. Now, decades later, I understand the responsibility to help my sister may have been a gift. But during that time and long afterward, whenever I drove to N.H. to see family, I cringed. So many people hadn’t been interviewed and, for some of them, it was too late. I hoped to write a sequel titled FINNS: The Next Generation, but couldn’t manage the project alone. Events of this past spring, however, suggested a possible route around that particular roadblock. In correspondence with a friend of my extended family—a well-established area businessman and long-term culture watcher of the Finns—he indicated the oral history-making should continue. But, he said, it must come from within the community itself. Separately, Emari Traffie of the New Ipswich Historical Society contacted me. She and I met to explore avenues through which FINNS could be incorporated into the Town’s ongoing history project. And so to people residing in or from the greater Monadnock Region, start thinking. The Finnish immigrant story represents a microcosm, part of the American story. Yes, it’s only a small corner of the globe, but it’s of cultural importance. Send forth interviewers to speak with those who have been eye- and ear-witnesses to life in their communities and elsewhere. Technology can help preserve authentic stories of Finns residing here or who have moved South, West, or in other directions. Almost everywhere, we have sleeper cells of stories to tell.

Patricia Kangas Ktistes, Rockport, MA, June 12, 2023

NOTE:

Recording oral histories is one of the projects of the New Ipswich Historical Society. Thank you Patricia for providing us with these accounts and stories.

James Roger diary entry

13th June 1912

Fair, cool and windy; wind northwest. Dave and W. Hardy on the sidewalks all day. Pomona Day at Grange. 85 present. Got letter and post card from Hamish. Grange at night. Got letter from Jennie Mair; her father has bought an auto–a Brush.