American Historian Meet American Girl (Perspectives Magazine)

I’ve never been into children’s books.

Even when I fell squarely in that all-important 8-to-11-year-old demographic, I didn’t care too much for enterprising babysitters, dystopian futures, or strange happenings in the old schoolhouse. For my beloved sustained silent reading time at school, I brought unauthorized biographies of Elizabeth Taylor and Hillary Clinton from home. I don’t know if my early reading habits were particularly wholesome, but I realize now that I was attracted to more grown-up books because I didn’t like that so-called girls’ books always had a standard exposition and pat conclusion. Even the somewhat edgier Nancy Drew series delivered the same ending every time: Nancy never failed to decipher the mystery by winding an antique clock or tapping a fake bookshelf. The cynicism that serves me well as a historian today was nursed on the stuff I believed that adults read. I enjoyed reading about real-life challenges—dramatic accidents, lost fortunes, and divorces from Richard Burton.

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