Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum

Growing up, I knew just two things about Jimmy Carter, aside from the fact that he was once president of the United States. The first was that he was a peanut farmer from Georgia, and the second was that he cared about world peace. In becoming a historian, I’ve learned much more about Jimmy Carter, and have been amazed by his commitment to a life of service. A place that has deepened my understanding is the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library Museum in Atlanta, Georgia, part of The Carter Presidential Center. The museum dedicated to Carter's time in office emphasizes his decades of public duty, taking a long view of his contributions to humanity beyond his one term in office.

James “Jimmy” Carter, the nation’s 39th President, was born in 1924. “The Man from Plains” was raised on a farm where Black sharecroppers cultivated peanuts on his family’s land. Carter entered public service early, graduating from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1946. After success in state politics, Carter was elected president of the United States in 1976, serving from 1977 to 1981. Alongside Jimmy was his wife Rosalynn Carter, a fierce and independent companion who promoted mental health care as First Lady. Carter has been working now as a “retired” politician for more than forty years—the longest position he has held by far.

Carter’s library and museum were built in 1986, alongside The Carter Center, a place designed for “Waging Peace, Fighting Disease, and Building Hope.” The adjacent Center has meeting spaces for peacekeeping summits and boardrooms for dignitaries; people working for the Center use this as a base for their global efforts. Visitors coming to learn about Carter’s time as a world leader will also see how important his work after his presidency has been to his sense of self. Peace was not simply something Carter hoped to broker between warring leaders at Camp David; an ethic of striving for a better world infuses the entirety of the presidential site. Work that Carter began as president in fact continues on the grounds of this Center.

All visitors to the thirty-five-acre complex, just over a mile from downtown Atlanta, are immersed into a remarkably quiet, green retreat center or “oasis,” in the words of the Center. A sloped, tiered walkway with a central bay of fountains provides an inviting entrance. There are lush gardens all around, providing places for rest, relaxation, and contemplation and serving as a tangible link to Carter’s vision of a more peaceful world. This is the only presidential site I have visited where an inner sense of calm is a desired visit outcome.

The land is also rich with its own history. Signage from the State of Georgia reminds visitors that this was once a plantation, and that the grassy hill overlooking the exit road was once occupied by soldiers fighting for a seditious army. This is a fitting pre-story for Carter, who grew up in an era of sharecropping, the world built up in an unfinished process of Reconstruction. Motorists travel to the site on the John Lewis Freedom Parkway, a road named for a local Civil Rights hero. Pedestrians might encounter The Carter Center on a heavily marked walking trail that links the museum to Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthplace. Visitors can easily move between the two heritage sites and are encouraged to learn about their political views along the way.

Once inside the museum, visitors see some of the usual signage of a federal building. The National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) manages Carter’s library and museum along with fifteen other presidential libraries. Under NARA’s management, Carter’s presidency is interpreted within 15,000 square feet of exhibit space; collections occupy 20,000 square feet.

The museum space includes a classroom, gift shop, theater, and an exhibition. Martin Sheen, who played a fictional West Wing president, narrates the basic outline of Carter’s life in the orientation film with authority. During my viewing, I wondered if this was a place to think about or celebrate Jimmy Carter (maybe both). Despite the triumphalist music in the film, it also told visitors that the Carters’ life work, their missions for “free and fair elections” and “peace for the world,” remained unfinished and further reminds viewers of visitors to the Carter Center who might be battling public health crises, striving for free elections, or meeting to broker a truce or lasting peace.

Leaving the darkened theater, visitors are shuttled into a long corridor that starts with Carter’s birth and proceeds chronologically through his early life. While learning about Carter’s childhood, service in the Navy, his marriage to Rosalynn, and rise through the ranks of Georgia Democrats, election to the presidency does not feel inevitable, and interpretive panels on the way to the recreation of the Oval Office remind visitors that Carter was an unlikely winner. When he ran, Carter was a relatively unknown politician who had to use his image as a peanut farmer to garner support for his presidential bid. One panel says simply “Jimmy Who?”

As with any museum space dedicated to a particular person or a moment in time there is a balance between emphasizing significance and pulling visitors out to see a longer, bigger story. Does Jimmy Carter matter, in other words, simply because he was president of the United States? I found that the exhibit did not stick to a simplistic notion of Carter’s significance. Instead, curators chose to present complex insights into global issues he faced. A large rotunda called “A Day in the Life of the President” invites museumgoers to go deep into Carter’s term, to see the challenges he faced.

The panels and objects on display provide depth on controversial topics, such as the Panama Canal and the energy crisis. First Lady Rosalynn Carter’s work as an advocate for people living with mental illnesses is also granted considerable space (“An Independent Partner”) along with items people may expect to see, such as garments she wore to formal events. I was surprised to see such extensive information about Carter’s family, as well as insights from many of the people on his team.

People interested in the politics of the 1970s will find plenty to mull over in this section of the museum, and in the mini gallery dedicated to Carter’s time at Camp David. Perhaps more striking, however, was a large wall of high glass panels shielding row after row of plain archive boxes. More than any other part of the Carter complex, this section showed democracy in action, with part of his archives laid bare. The sight of the archive boxes—tangible evidence of the importance of the democratic process—moved me and made me think. Saving and documenting democracy does not simply happen: curators, archivists, and ordinary civil servants have to choose to keep leaders accountable.

While standing in the museum’s final exhibit space, a store that sells Jimmy Carter pencils, peanuts, postcards, and peach ice cream, I understood better why I had easily reduced the Carter legacy to those small, tangible facts. The Carters have worked to wage peace for decades, yet it is easier in a cynical democracy to undercut the dream of world peace. It is also simpler to call Carter a peanut farmer; the truth is his family hired Black sharecroppers, a fact I learned at this museum. In the end there is much more I’d like to know about critics of the Carters, a task that is hard to begin in a place designed to preserve their legacy. The feeling of awe at looking up at archive boxes, cared for by people who know that this position wields an almost unthinkable amount of power, will stay with me. I will also continue to wonder about the Center and wonder about the people holed up in meeting spaces, trying to solve big problems, continuing the work of a man raised miles away, in a small place called Plains. This museum is as much about the work that will never be finished as a short, if impactful, presidential term.