Statement by the 

 Secretary 



I. Michael Heyman 



As I write these words, I have just completed my first two years 

 as Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, the tenth in a long 

 line dating back 150 years. It was my privilege to take up my 

 responsibilities in 1994, ]ust as the Institution was planning to 

 celebrate a century and a half dedicated to the increase and 

 diffusion of knowledge. The year |ust past was that time of 

 celebration and rededication. And what a year it was. 



While I would be hard put to choose any one moment as 

 the high point of the celebration for me, three moments 

 certainly stand out in my memory. The first was the February 

 opening in Los Angeles of "America's Smithsonian." That 

 unprecedented undertaking, requiring the cooperation of our 

 entire Institution, brought some of our greatest treasures on 

 national tour. It had seemed impossible to pull off in so short 

 a time. But there we were at our inaugural stop, the 

 exhibition looked wonderful, and the people of Los Angeles 

 let us know how pleased they were that they could visit the 

 treasures they owned as citizens in their own hometown. 



The second moment occurred here in Washington. It was 

 the time of our Birthday Party on the National Mall. Luck 

 was with us. Our actual birthday, August 10, fell on a 

 weekend. That weekend came, miraculously, between the 

 Olympics and the political conventions, so we were likely to 

 get public attention. And most fortunate of all, Washington's 

 weather turned in the most temperate August weekend in 

 memory. As a result, hundreds of thousands |oined us in the 

 cavalcade of tents that spread out from the Capitol to the 

 Washington Monument. As Aretha Franklin completed her 

 ioyous music, and fireworks the red color of the Castle 

 exploded around it, I felt connected to this wonderful place as 

 an American, not only as the Smithsonian's Secretary. 



The third moment that holds my memory was more of a 

 ramilv occasion for those of us who work here. It was a time 



we gathered to celebrate a number of our "Unsung Heroes," 

 those men and women who had been nominated by their 

 coworkers for their service and dedication. As each of them 

 came up to the podium in Baird Auditorium, a cheer would 

 rise from those who knew how good they were at their jobs 

 and could now share that knowledge with the rest of the 

 Smithsonian. It was a great moment for all of us, and it 

 reminded me again of the privilege we share in having this as 

 our place of work. 



No anniversary, even one this big, is important for its own 

 sake. We use them as opportunities to reflect on what we once 

 were, what we have become, and where we are going. The 

 150th did |ust that for us, and I would like to share here some 

 of my conclusions about what this Institution has come to 

 represent for the American people and, with their support, 

 how we might continue to serve their needs. 



James Smithson, that generous, mysterious donor who left 

 his fortune to a nation he had never visited, would certainly 

 be surprised to see the scope of the modern Smithsonian. We 

 like to think he would be pleased. But there was no way he, or 

 the Americans who took up his charge to create an institution 

 committed to the dual purpose of research and education, 

 could have anticipated the mixture of disciplines, collections, 

 programs, and public spaces we have become. 



There was no master plan for the development of the 

 Smithsonian, no defined series of goals and attributes that 

 predetermined our growth. What Smithson left us was an 

 inspired and briefly worded mandate and the resources to work 

 out its possibilities. His was as much an act of faith as an act of 

 generosity. 



Each nation has its own combination of attributes, its 

 genius." Ours proved to be particularly suited to the spirit of 

 Smithson's bequest. Once Congress, led by John Quincy 



