Punk rock, archives, and an invitation to our September 25 event
In her essay, “Students, Archives, and Metaphors,” historian Amy G. Richter recalls the instructions she gave every year to new Clemente Course students in Worcester. She challenged each of them to think of themselves as an archive.
An archive, Richter told her students, is a collection of “valuable records collected and organized by an individual or organization.” The contents of the archive can vary widely, from expense sheets to love letters to newspaper ads. The archivist must decide what is worth keeping. “The archival challenge,” she writes in Clementinos: Voices from the Clemente Writing Project, “is to make decisions that build upon past priorities, reflect what is important in the present, and anticipate the questions of those who will come after us.”
During a course, a student must select the emails, readings, and discussions that they believe will serve as a resource in the future. In our lives, we do the same, gathering along our journey the moments and materials that matter to us.
We will need this, the archivist says.
On September 25, Mass Humanities will honor Ken Casey because he tells stories that we will need in years to come. I hope you can join us to celebrate Casey’s commitment to forging new artwork from the past, his punk rock courage, and the Dropkick Murphys’ unique impact as chroniclers of Massachusetts. We are grateful to present him with a 2025 Massachusetts Storyteller Award. His work—onstage and in the archives—belongs in the archives of this place we call home.
Casey writes about soldiers and single mothers, rumbles on the T and life on the road, barrooms, landlords, and far away coasts. The band’s earliest recordings drew on a deep distrust of the powerful and a raucous sense of humor, sharing with the world the vantage point of young men in Quincy who saw themselves as outcasts and freedom fighters. The title track on their first EP was a tribute to Casey’s grandfather, John Kelley, who Casey described as an organizer for “most of the union workers down on the fish pier.”
Say hey Johnny boy, the battle call.
United we stand, divided we fall.
Together we are what we can’t be alone,
We came to this country, you made it our home.
This man so humble, this man so brave.
A legend to many, he fought to his grave.
Saved family and friends from the hardship and horror,
in a land of depression he gave hope for tomorrow.
–“Boys on the Docks,” Dropkick Murphys, 1997
The Dropkicks released their 11th album, For the People, on the 4th of July this year. Over the band’s thirty-year run, Casey’s defiant independence has been the constant and so very, very Massachusetts. Founded in 2009, the band’s foundation, the Claddagh Fund, supports underfunded non-profits that champion the needs of children, veterans and individuals suffering from alcohol and drug addiction.
At the event, we’ll travel into Casey’s archive to hear how his experiences shaped his music. We’ll talk about his influences and his experiences in the Woody Guthrie Center’s archives in Tulsa, Oklahoma. “I would literally hold the paper so gently in my hand,” he explained in the 2024 documentary, This Machine Rising. The band recorded two albums of Guthrie material. They do more than cover folk songs—they turn their instruments to illuminating the lyric books and journals of an American who used his voice to call out injustice against migrant workers, people of color, and the displaced.
As Dr. Richter wrote, archives are “living, dynamic institutions that at their very best want to be surprised, stretched, challenged, and reinterpreted by contact with others.” In the hands of a Boston punk band, the primary documents come alive again, necessary and buoyant in a nation once again navigating economic upheaval and political unrest.
I know how it feels when you ain’t got a friend
You’re a long, lonesome way from your home
And I know how it feels when you slave like a dog
And you ain’t got a thing that you own
I know how it feels when you walk on the street
And you don’t see a face that you know
And I know how it feels to work ‘til you drop
And it’s 10,000 bills that you owe
-“I Know How It Feels,” Woody Guthrie lyrics, adapted by Dropkick Murphys, 2023
Since 1974, Mass Humanities has supported people who protect and replenish the archives. We believe that the humanities belong on the street corner and in the classroom, in your earbuds and at town hall. We champion the storytellers who, like Casey, find beauty in the struggle, who refuse to forget the histories and melodies of their people.
We lost our federal funding this year, but Mass Humanities never lost faith in the genius of the people of Massachusetts. We commit to being here for the archivists, the writers, and the organizers for years to come.
So we need your support.
Please make a donation, buy a ticket, invite a friend, or choose a sponsorship level. This is a critical time for Mass Humanities. Your support will allow us to sustain our staff, plan for 2026, and withstand the ongoing challenges we face from federal cuts and policies.
Our hope for the event: a room full of people who believe in the power of song to change the world. We want to be with our partners and supporters, to celebrate Ken Casey, and to add to the archives a new collection of stories and memories that we’ll need in the future.
It will be great to see you there.
All my best,
Brian Boyles
Executive Director