I recently returned to the United States from one of Middlebury’s J-term trips abroad. Our group traveled to Vilnius, Lithuania and Odessa, Ukraine, spending one week in each city. I was eager to participate mostly for personal reasons; my family originally came from this corner of the world. I quickly realized though that I was in for much more than a heritage tour. This experience would really change my academic outlook too.

As a history major, I was struck by the power of oral history—studying history through firsthand, oral accounts of the events—and of the importance of geography in shaping how a community deals with its history. In my opinion, the two are inextricably linked. If a story is told well, the retelling feels as vivid for listener as the experience was for the storyteller. This usually involves giving the listener a sense of place, such as in a city, or even in a specific building. It is important to know how the surroundings looked and felt to the person in that moment.

We heard firsthand about the atrocities committed in these cities. I could not help but think about the legacy of the places we were seeing. Regardless of the area’s appearance today, the collective memory came alive with one glance at an abandoned building in disrepair or at a renovation project that appeared to wipe away the past. Even for us, places became important reminders of the stories we heard. How did victims, perpetrators, and observers of twentieth century crimes view these sites, especially when they clearly brought the past back to life? From an academic standpoint, how much significance do we and should we assign to the idea of place in history?

Our group discussed these issues and experiences at meals, in our hotel rooms, on bus trips and walking tours, even while waiting for our luggage in any number of airports. We never came to any conclusions, nor was that a goal. Our conversations often ended with questions, not answers. Each one of us brought different backgrounds to the table, and our perceptions of what we saw were often radically different.

Upon returning to Middlebury, we concluded our month-long study with presentations on topics of our choosing. The idea of place was extremely important in my own description of our trip abroad. In other reflections, some of my classmates stressed the composure of those whom we had met. Collectively, we had developed a body of different stories of stories and places—quite a souvenir! Many of us often used the same anecdotes in discussion to raise different points about the central theme of collective history. How does a community interpret and deal with its own history? How should this history shape its future?

While the experience of being abroad was special in its own right, I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to travel with a group from Middlebury. My professors and peers challenged me personally and intellectually in ways I might not have experienced otherwise. I am hopeful that we will continue this dialogue well into the spring, encouraging each other to examine our attitudes and perceptions of the trip and of the nature of history in general. It will be interesting to see how our discussions take shape with time and space from our trip.