Kidada E. Williams (PhD 2005) is a professor of history at Wayne State University in Detroit. Her most recent book, I Saw Death Coming: A History of Terror and Survival in the War Against Reconstruction (Bloomsbury Publishing), was longlisted for the 2023 National Book Award for Nonfiction. During her time at U-M, Williams co-developed the Washtenaw County Underground Railroad bus tour with Carol Mull. Staff member Olivia Evans caught up with Williams to discuss her scholarship, her time at U-M, and the importance of accessible history.
How do your graduate studies at U-M inform your work as a historian today?
While at the University of Michigan, I received thorough training in historical research methods, specifically focusing on Black studies’ theoretical and methodological frameworks within the United States. This training by people who shared my sense of wonder, awe, and heartbreak emphasized the importance of centering Black people, life, culture, thought, and ethics in historical archives and narratives.
While I initially entered the doctoral program as a dedicated historian, interacting with American Culture students and faculty holding joint appointments in other departments provided me with a deeper appreciation for multidisciplinary study that has informed my research and teaching. I’m still a dedicated historian, but I am open to bringing back the theoretical and methodological tools I have gained from adjacent fields to history.
With I Saw Death Coming longlisted for the National Book Award (congratulations!), and your appearance on podcasts, documentaries, and bestsellers lists, how have you dealt with your growing public presence? Has it changed your approach to your work, knowing that you are reaching increasingly broad audiences?
Thanks! It was an unexpected but lovely surprise, and it’s been a wild ride. I wouldn’t say reaching a broader audience has changed my approach much because the rigor of the training and research remains the same; the output is the only difference. I still work like most academic historians do. However, I spend more time developing my understanding of the line between what the public wants and needs and then identifying and utilizing the resources to provide it. Many of us reinvent the wheel because there isn’t widespread support for public work in history departments and organizations and because there’s a tendency for people to hoard resources and information, so I try to help other scholars interested in public work do it well.
You’ve worked in public history since your graduate school days, starting with the Washtenaw County Underground Railroad bus tour. How did your interest in public history begin?
I came from a history-loving family on both sides. When I published my first book, They Left Great Marks on Me, I felt my family wouldn’t want to read it. Not because they couldn’t but because I wrote it for my career goals—degree, job, tenure, and promotion—rather than for history-curious people like them. Feeling that I had let down non-academic readers reminded me of my interest in creating something more accessible to a broader audience. I started sharing history sources on my Twitter account, which led to my work on the #CharlestonSyllabus and other conversations.
I continued that work with my next book, I Saw Death Coming, and was working on that at the beginning of the pandemic when Kelly Hardcastle Jones, who had worked on BackStory with the American History Guys, contacted me about hosting a podcast on the Civil War. Kelly explained they came to me because they wanted to center African Americans in the story and thought I was great at storytelling. We produced an impactful show that reached the top 1 percent of downloads. Seizing Freedom taught me many things, including the importance of being open to new opportunities to share historical research and expand my training and reach.
From your editing of the #CharlestonSyllabus in 2015 to your involvement with the Zinn Project, you’ve offered many resources to K-12 teachers with an intent to alter the way African American history is taught in schools. How did you get involved with this work, and why does it matter?
Honestly, I was asked, recognized the need, and decided to answer the call.
Working with K-12 history and social science teachers through NEH Summer Institutes and the Zinn Education Project helped me understand many educators’ lack of content training in US and African American history. The burden is on teachers to find good history content, especially when their districts’ chosen textbooks may be problematic. For many, this extra work is a bridge too far. I get it! Many of our nation’s most prestigious and cherished educational and historical institutions have educator resources on their websites, including lesson plans by grade. When talking to teachers, I recognized that most of them didn’t know about them, so I decided to make them available. It took fifteen minutes to create the web page, so when teachers or parents reach out to me, I can point them in the right direction.
Historians are well-positioned to help people understand the complexity of interpreting history, our methods, and how our tools and perspectives evolve. Dismissing distorted or problematic historical accounts is not enough; we must help people understand why they are inaccurate, how these misconceptions originated, what they achieve, and why accurate, evidence-based historical interpretations matter for understanding the past and the present.
What advice would you offer to U-M grads who want to get involved in academia and public history?
My advice would be to get trained as broadly as possible in different elements of the craft of history, writing, and communication.
I recommend consuming different types of history content: TV and radio interviews, documentary films, podcasts, graphic histories, literary and history magazines, narrative non-fiction and creative nonfiction, and audiobooks. Ask yourself: What resonates intellectually or emotionally? What doesn’t? Why? How did they do this? How do they address the “why this history matters today” question? How might you do it? Most people who are good at working in public have spent time and energy developing their skills. If your institutions and organizations aren’t providing professional development resources, ask them to.
Be open to new opportunities. But, as you do this, you must understand the potential positive or negative impact of your public work on degree requirements, job prospects, promotions, and tenure. What counts? To whom? And why?
The best work is accomplished in community. So, find your people—like-minded individuals who are eager to expand their audience, share resources and opportunities, and hold you to high standards.
Lastly, there’s enough public work to go around, so don’t hoard information, resources, or opportunities. If the media contacts you and you’re not the historian who wrote the dissertation, article, or book on that topic, then be generous and pass the mic.