In our western culture that is fixated on the moment, students of history sometimes seem a vanishing species. Jennifer Dijk is a refreshing counterpoint to that trend. She has received a scholarship from the Mennonite Historical Society for her work in advancing the preservation of Mennonite history.

Jennifer was raised in a very close extended family. Their closeness is perhaps exceptional even among Mennonites who have long stressed the importance of kin and community, but has enabled Jennifer's family to overcome some serious difficulties together. “We've had to work at it to make sure it stays strong,” she says. Jennifer is an energetic, confident and probing thinker. When a topic of interest is injected into the conversation, there is little need to encourage her to speak her mind. Her enthusiasm seems spontaneous.

Jennifer has been working towards a bachelor's degree at University College of the Fraser Valley. She first enrolled in university intending to major in English literature, but found that she was getting better marks in history. Besides, that was where her heart lay. History, she says, “is like a big puzzle. You know the outcome but not how you got there.” Jennifer believes that the study of history is somewhat like psychoanalysis on a mass scale, that history is simply individual behaviour multiplied. Thus its importance. “We tend to think history is irrelevant," she says, "but how our society is structured is based on our reaction to the past.” In that sense, the study of history can influence our future. We as a culture could change our behaviour if we were honest about our past mistakes. “Not that we actually listen to it,” Jennifer remarks.

The beginnings of her scholarship-winning project lay in a UCFV course called Applied Studies in History. It was a two-semester course, the first having to do with how history is taught outside of academia, for example in historical societies, videos, popular narratives. The second semester consisted of a practicum, and this is where her interview project entered. Since Jennifer is interested in Mennonite theology, and since her grandparents have their roots in the mass Mennonite flight from Russia after the Revolution, it was her desire to preserve some of those immigrant stories on tape. Jennifer would have liked to chronicle her great-grandfather's story but, as so frequently happens, it was too late for that, so she turned to the narratives of other individuals. She interviewed her grandparents, and then talked to others, mainly residents of Greendale. Greendale was chosen primarily for its convenience: its close proximity to home, and its Mennonite immigrants known to her family. Word of mouth was used as a search engine for interviewees.

Jennifer approached the Mennonite Historical Society for help with her project. She initially found its representatives a little quizzical about what she might do or say. Someone, however, suggested board member John Toews as her mentor and advisor; he consented, and "the rest is history."

Interviewees told stories from a multitude of perspectives. One individual, for example, was only six years of age when she immigrated to Canada. The stories of the two main flows of Russian Mennonite immigration, that is, of the 1920s and 1940s, were very different in tone. Some individuals needed some encouragement. "They didn't think they had anything important to say, and I had to convince them," remarks Jennifer, "but once a story was started, they were alright." Interviewees were often impressed that a person so young might be interested in their narratives.

In the process Jennifer learned a great deal about oral histories. "I learned that history is a lot more complicated than in the history books," she says. Her approach to this project emanates from an admiration for the strength of Mennonite immigrants, and seeks to avoid the sense of victimization that frequently pervades contemporary historical research. “So much history is of the oppressed these days,” says Jennifer, “but these people didn't see it that way.” One female interviewee “didn't feel discriminated against, but she felt she was equal to men.” A male interviewee was asked if he experienced discrimination. Yes, he replied, not from mainstream Canadians, but from other Mennonites. This happened because he belonged to the 1940s stream of immigration, and those who arrived earlier apparently considered him a threat to their jobs. This man, however, apparently did not nurture any resentment.

But were there genuine problems of discrimination at the time? "I think there was discrimination, but was it important at the time? It depends on the experience," says Jennifer. “What's important to us now may have felt less important back then – immigrants were so focused just on making a living.” Social relationships, she believes, are often not so much an objective fact as a state of mind. "You tend to make judgment calls, when it's not necessarily the case for that particular person – it depends on how that person regarded it.”
Jennifer's interviewees talked little about the conflict between General Conference and Mennonite Brethren churches. “Most of the time," she says, “it wasn't a big part of their lives.” As children, Mennonites connected with both denominations attended school together and became friends. Only as adults did they begin to grow apart, after baptism into their respective congregations.

Jennifer is attending Canadian Mennonite University this year, where she can pursue her study of history, but will be able to study theology as well, “just for fun,” she says, and smiles. “I like to know what I believe,” declares Jennifer, “and why I believe it." In the tradition of good scholarship, she analyzes both sides of a debate. “I tend to play the double advocate,”she says, “I don't believe something just because my parents believed it.”