In partnership with
We’ve all heard the saying: “Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.” Unfortunately, modern society seems to be doing everything possible to forget history altogether.
Across the country, we’ve watched historic monuments removed, landmarks destroyed, and pieces of local heritage erased. In many communities, history is no longer seen as something to preserve — it’s viewed as something inconvenient, controversial, or simply unimportant.
And perhaps most concerning of all, genuine interest in history seems to be fading with each generation. It’s becoming increasingly rare to find younger people deeply engaged in local history, genealogy, historic preservation, or the stories that shaped their own communities.
The truth is, history is not always pleasant. Some parts of it are painful. Some parts are ugly. But whether history is inspiring or uncomfortable, it still matters. It is the backbone of our towns, our counties, and our country itself.
History also serves a practical purpose. It can strengthen communities economically through tourism and cultural interest.
Take the Hatfield-McCoy Feud region along the Kentucky-West Virginia border. Those communities embraced their history instead of hiding from it. Today, visitors travel from around the world to tour feud sites, museums, cemeteries, and historic locations connected to that infamous conflict.
Bath County has likewise preserved several of its historic iron furnaces and operates one of the finest local historical museums in Kentucky. Those sites not only preserve heritage — they bring visitors into the community.
Meanwhile, in Rowan County, much of the physical history tied to the Martin-Tolliver Feud — better known as the Rowan County War — has disappeared. Most of the original landmarks connected to that nationally known conflict are gone. One of the few remaining pieces is the old freight station, now home to the Rowan County Historical & Railroad Museum.
Carter County has made encouraging strides in recent years through the efforts of its historical society and public educational programs. Yet even there, the Holbrook-Underwood Feud in the western part of the county is rarely discussed today. Many of the landmarks connected to that conflict have vanished over time. The historic Underwood Fort reportedly still stood only a few years ago, though its current condition is uncertain.
That is unfortunate, because preserving those locations could provide both educational and economic benefits to the surrounding area.
So why is interest in history declining?
Part of the answer, uncomfortable as it may be, lies with some historical societies themselves.
Over the years, many organizations that were founded to preserve history have unintentionally become closed social circles rather than active community movements. Meetings are held regularly, but too often little happens beyond conversation. Fundraising efforts are limited. Restoration projects stall. Public presentations are infrequent. Opportunities to engage younger generations are missed.
Recently, I spoke with a member of a historical organization elsewhere in Kentucky about a large preservation project their group had struggled to complete. The person explained that membership had declined dramatically over the years, leaving too few active volunteers to carry the project forward. They also expressed frustration that many communities fail to recognize the tourism and economic potential that historic preservation can create.
And that points to another major issue: aging membership.
Many historical societies are shrinking because longtime members are growing older, yet younger people often struggle to find a place within those organizations. In some cases, potential new members are told there is “nothing going on right now,” or they are encouraged to wait until some later date to get involved.
Even when younger members are welcomed, they are not always given meaningful opportunities to contribute. Older leadership may be hesitant to turn over responsibility or allow newer members to spearhead projects, fundraising campaigns, restorations, or public outreach efforts.
The result is stagnation.
If local history is going to survive, that mindset must change.
Young people must become involved in preserving the stories, places, and people that shaped their communities. But historical organizations must also open their doors wider, welcome new energy, and allow the next generation to actively participate — even if under the guidance of more experienced members.
Historic preservation cannot survive through nostalgia alone.
It takes people willing to work together.
And if we fail to preserve our history now, future generations may never know what was lost.
The best HR advice comes from people who’ve been in the trenches.
That’s what this newsletter delivers.
I Hate it Here is your insider’s guide to surviving and thriving in HR, from someone who’s been there. It’s not about theory or buzzwords — it’s about practical, real-world advice for navigating everything from tricky managers to messy policies.
Every newsletter is written by Hebba Youssef — a Chief People Officer who’s seen it all and is here to share what actually works (and what doesn’t). We’re talking real talk, real strategies, and real support — all with a side of humor to keep you sane.
Because HR shouldn’t feel like a thankless job. And you shouldn’t feel alone in it.