In the world of special collections, unprocessed manuscript materials represent the unknown, full of possibility, each collection unique. Our basic bibliographic records and container lists, created at the time of accessioning, can only hint at the overall subject matter. The actual contents remain hidden from view, intellectually as well as physically, until subjected to thorough examination, analysis, reorganization, preservation, and rehousing, followed by the creation of descriptive on-line finding aids. This is the stuff of processing and cataloging, and while it is extremely labor-, space-, and time-intensive, its rewards are great.

Although a few collections arrive in the library in good condition and usable order, many arrive with hundreds of loose documents, undated letters in their original postmarked envelopes, labels falling off those folders that do exist, confidential letters mixed in among publications, large clips joining multiple documents of varying dates, fragile scrapbooks with brittle pages disintegrating, and unidentified photographs and audiovisual materials tucked in with other papers. The library, like most repositories, does not allow access to these collections because fragile materials may be irreparably damaged by handling, confidences prematurely revealed, and the only clues to an item’s source—provided by this original physical proximity—lost.

The Maximum Access Project is designed to deal with those collections designated as “closed until processed,” setting priorities primarily on the basis of research demand. Beginning in November 2007, we hired an additional seven manuscript processors, two book catalogers, and one audiovisual cataloger. Since that time, nearly fifty manuscript collections have been fully processed, duplicates and materials not of permanent research value have been removed (saving both storage costs and researchers’ time) from nearly 1,200 feet of papers, and the remaining 900 feet have been arranged and described.

The collections processed thus far include the papers of thirty-seven individuals and the records of thirteen organizations. Though most document the twentieth century and the beginnings of the twenty-first, a number include materials from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries—with two of those containing items from the 1600s. The collections with the greatest chronological span tend to be family papers covering several generations. Emerging from the folded and rolled packets have been not only correspondence between parents and children, but professional and business records of family members, wartime correspondence from different countries and time periods, and descriptions of travel.

Papers include those of artists and musicians, journalists, activists, nurses, educators, and other professionals. Activities of American women living and working outside the United States (in China, France, Japan, Korea, Mexico, Panama, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, and Switzerland), along with those of women and their families who emigrated to the United States (from China, Germany, Iran, Lebanon, Poland, Russia, and Syria), are also well documented in recently processed collections.

The archives of organizations are an excellent source for learning more about under-documented individuals and their communities. For example, the records of the feminist periodical Sojourner include many letters from prisoners; those of the South Boston Neighborhood House document the residents and neighborhood it served; letters to Ms. magazine discuss a wide variety of issues; and letters from preteen and teenage readers to Elizabeth Winship’s “Ask Beth” column seek advice on health, relationships, and sexuality.

We know that equally rich materials will be uncovered as the project moves forward, adding to the universe of documents upon which our understanding of the past is based.

—Katherine Gray Kraft
Senior Archivist

Photo of Allison Platt, the first editor of Sojourner, at a rally in support of battered women at Boston City Hall Plaza on August 26, 1976, by Ellen Shub