You don’t have to believe the country is falling apart to notice Americans struggling to come together. Last year the U.S. Surgeon General issued an advisory report on our “epidemic of loneliness,” a dark flip side to the loud and impassioned public dialogue that has become a hallmark of 21st-century life. Meanwhile, we give less than ever to charity, belong to fewer organizations, and distance ourselves from the categories and etiquette that once defined individuals’ relationships to a larger community. We want to be seen and heard, and yet we sometimes lack the tools and patience to see and hear one another.

From the neuroscience of spatial experience to the awe inspired by thinking across expanses of time, house museums hold powerful means to opening our minds. If we treat them as laboratories rather than as repositories of information, they can teach us to look closely at the residue of the past and use multiple kinds of intelligence to grasp the complexity of the human relationships intertwined with it. A century ago, old rooms and their furnishings were part of a bold new strategy in museums to lift up society by drawing attention to the objects that surround us. This lecture, adapted from an address last winter at the Colonial Williamsburg Antiques Forum, focuses on the ways in which our national treasures in Historic Wethersfield can help us observe, listen, and relate to one another with the same curiosity and respect we accord to people of the past.