Showing posts with label abundant thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abundant thinking. Show all posts

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Looking for a Mentor? Now's Your Chance!


Hard to believe, but this is the 7th call for my annual mentorship program.  Should you be interested?  It's often hard to know where a career in the museum field might lead you--and how to navigate the world of co-workers, organizational structure, and larger issues in the field as a whole.  If you think that might be helpful--maybe this is for you.

All kinds of colleagues have been mentees over these seven years:  educators, curators, archivists, directors, people in the United States, people working globally, students in Ph.D programs or just finishing a museum studies program, mid-career folks, people looking for a career shift or looking to make the most of where they are.  All kinds of people.

This week, I reached out to previous mentees to find out how they viewed the experience after a bit of distance.  Here's what some of them said:
"I think for me the biggest takeaway from our conversations was the encouragement to write, and this summer I had a narrative essay published in FWD: Museums, a peer-reviewed journal published by the Museum Studies and Exhibitions program at the University of Illinois at Chicago."
"It taught me how to approach mentoring others... I’ve gotten involved with the mentoring program that EdCom is doing. I’ve had a couple of mentees in that program as I “pay it forward.” "
"For me, as a new museum professional at a small museum that, in some ways, was isolated from mainstream museum practice, it was helpful to have someone removed from the situation to discuss challenges with. It was also great to have someone knowledgeable about the museum literature to discuss issues with - I knew I was getting advice that was grounded in best practice, as well as solid ideas on where to look for further resources. The fact that the meetings were regular and were things I didn't have to initiate meant that I was forced to find time in my schedule for reading and reflection - things that should be an integral part of the work of anyone new to cultural heritage work, but a part of the work that's hard to find time for in an entry-level job."
What do I gain from it?  Even though I now have "network" in my official job title, it's always been a key part of the way I approach my work.  I love new ideas and new perspectives--these monthly conversations provide that for me as well as for mentees.  Approaching work in a spirit of generosity repays itself in so many ways and helps expand a community of museum colleagues.

What's the Mentorship Look Like?

We'll schedule monthly Skype conversations at times convenient for us both, and you can apply no matter where you live or work or what stage of your career you're in. I'll expect you to be both a good listener and a good questioner--and be willing to look at your self deeply.

From you, I'll expect one or two blog posts over the year on deadlines we mutually set and of course, active participation and questioning when we talk. In addition to the monthly conversations, I'll also provide feedback, introductions as I can, and loads and loads of opinions!

If you want to know more about my work and my approach to the field. please read blog posts, check out my LinkedIn profile, follow me on Twitter or Instagram, and of course, check out Creativity in Museum Practice, co-written with Rainey Tisdale.  You might also want to check out the work of the organization I work for, the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience.

What Makes a Good Mentee?

I'm particularly interested in people who have entered the field from different directions and who bring different perspectives to the work. At the moment as well, I'd love to hear from activists who see museum and archive work as a way to build a more just society. Unfortunately, you must be an English speaker, but you can be from anywhere in the world because we can always work out the time zones! I find that the quality of curiosity is a great bonus.

Okay, I'm In! How do I Apply?

If you're interested, by January 7, 2019, send me an email with the subject line "mentorship: [lastname]" that includes two attachments: your resume and answers to the following questions:
  • What are you passionate about?
  • What questions would you like to discuss with me during the year?
  • What was an early creative act? (I mean, not in work, but early, as in childhood)
  • What's the most interesting museum experience you had in the last year and why?
  • What's one thing wrong with museums?

How Do I Decide?


Because this is my own individual project, I get to make my own decisions, sometimes with the counsel of a few trusted colleagues. I'm probably not very interested in you if your key questions are about becoming a consultant. Non-US colleagues, people of color, and those entering the field from unconventional ways, you're particularly encouraged to apply.

I want to be challenged and intrigued, I don't care about your Meyers-Briggs type or your grades in graduate school. I appreciate people who don't take themselves too seriously. I want to get off that Skype call every month ready to think more about your work and my work and the ways we can make change. Museums have a larger role to play in this complex world--but only if we dig in and get at it.



Sunday, February 5, 2017

Learning Together: The 2017 Mentees


Once again, my annual call for participants in my small mentor program resulted in the chance to get acquainted with a number of you who made the effort to reach out and submit an application.  My thanks to all of you who shared your questions, your work, your ideas and more.  I'm pleased to announce this year's two mentees.


Tania Said is Director of Education at the David Owsley Museum of Art at Ball State University in Muncie, IN.  She's had a varied career bringing her to this point--at the Smithsonian, in positions from an internship to Community Services Manager, at the Smithsonian's Center for Education and Museum Studies.  She worked at AAM and as Director of the Bead Museum in DC, but has now returned to where she did her undergraduate work.  Tania's questions revolve around ways to increase community engagement and ways to be an advocate for a more diverse workforce.

I loved her description when I asked an exhibit she had found interesting in the last year:
“What Lies Beneath” is a conservation exhibition at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. I found it especially interesting because of my 12-year-old son and his friend’s reaction to it. They immediately dove into the answering the question of who painted the work of art in question, donning lab jackets, exploring the available tools, reading the docket, and writing their responses. While they skipped the introductory video, they clearly thrilled in finding out about the underlying painting by using and learning about x-ray and infrared scanning tools. The children’s reactions contrasted with the more typical response of watching me enjoy an exhibition and enduring any conversation I may want to have about it; instead, they were self-motivated. I believe this was not just how the exhibition was organized, but the diversity of information providers, and the excellent design presenting all of the opportunities for interaction. Adults visiting the small exhibition (less than 400 sq. ft.) seemed equally curious and willing to explore by not just reading and seeing works of art, but discussing it as well. 

The second mentee is Hannah Hethmon, currently familiar to many of you in the history museum field as Membership Marketing Coordinator at the American Association for State and Local History. Hannah came to the museum field from gaining a Master's degree in Viking and Icelandic Studies at the University of Reykjavík, Iceland, and previous experience as a marketing coordinator for Granite Grannies, Inc and a freelance copywriter.

Hannah wrote, "At the moment, I'm really interested in the ability of new technology, particularly social media, to democratize the museum invitation and become a powerful tool for letting more diverse (racially, economically, socially) audiences know that museums are for them as well."  That interest extends to her key questions for the year:
How can I help AASLH's emerging professionals create meaningful connections within the field without requiring physical attendance at costly conferences? And how can small museums use technology to become a valued part of their community member's lives before those people ever step foot in the building?

Secondly, I am trying to take advantage of as many opportunities as possible to learn new aspects of the museum trade, participate in projects (or discussions, like the NCPH 2017 working group on "Community Engagement in a Digital World" I've joined), and make meaningful connections to others in the field from whom I can learn and with whom I can discuss ideas and strategies.
Again, thanks to all who applied.  And to Tania and Hannah, I look forward to a great year of conversation as I know I'll learn as much, or more, than I share.

Top Image:  women shipyard workers, Beaumont, TX,  by John Vachon, 1943, Library of Congress collection

Monday, December 19, 2016

Need a Mentor? Round 5 Begins!


In my last post I wrote about becoming a mentor. In this post it's all about those of you who want to become a mentee. Are you looking for an outside voice to help you think deeply about both your career and tough issues in the field? A push and/or a sympathetic ear? If you are, consider applying for my own little venture.

What's it like? The word cloud at the top of the post includes words that previous mentees used to describe the process after their year. Here's the deal for the coming year. Mark your calendar: the deadline for applications is January 4.  I welcome and encourage applications from anywhere in the world, although I'm sadly only an English speaker.

The Shape of the Mentorship

We'll schedule one-hour Skype or Google Hangout conversations at mutually convenient times once a month. In addition to the monthly conversations, I'll happily provide feedback, introductions as I can, and loads and loads of opinions. If I can, I'd love to meet you in person if we can intersect. From you, I'll expect two or three blog posts on deadlines we mutually set and of course, active participation and questioning along the way. It's your mentorship and it's up to you to take responsibility in shaping it.

How to Apply

If you're interested, by January 4, send me an email that includes your resume plus your responses to the following questions. No word count specified. Say what you have to say, short or long.
  • What change would you like to make in the museum field?
  • When did you fail and what did you learn?
  • What's the most interesting exhibit or program you saw in the last year?
  • What key questions would you like to discuss with me during the year?
  • What non-work related book are you reading?
How Do I Decide?

Because this is my own individual project, I get to make my own decisions, sometimes with the counsel of a few trusted colleagues.  Previous year's mentees have been in graduate school, emerging professionals or mid-career types. I'm probably not very interested in you if your key questions are about becoming a consultant. This year, I'm particularly interested in those of you entering the field from alternative ways or whose career has taken a surprising path. Outside the US applicants, you're particularly encouraged to apply as well.

I want to be challenged and intrigued, I don't care about your Meyers-Briggs type or your grades in graduate school. I appreciate people who don't take themselves too seriously. I want to get off that Skype call every month ready to think more about your work and my work and the ways we can make change. Museums have a larger role to play in this complex world--but only if we dig in and get at it.

Questions, ask away!

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Pondering Museum Futures: Honest Questions


I've been lucky enough to have many great conversations about museums in three different countries over beer, vodka and prosecco, with my friend and colleague Katrin Hieke from Germany. That's why I'm so pleased to share this guest post with her observations, thoughts and questions about a Swiss museum conference. The idea of questions is an intriguing conference theme, and as you'll see below, the organizers worked hard to embed it all the way through.  We hope you end up with some questions of your own!

At the end of last month I had the pleasure to attend the annual congress of the Swiss Museum Association & ICOM Switzerland on Museum Future(s). It resonated a lot with me and stirred up quite a few questions. Maybe that was not only because the museum field seems to be very much on the move (has it ever not be, I wonder?), but so am I -- reconsidering my own professional future having nearly finished my long ongoing dissertation project. And since future(s) of all kinds are a constant thread in Linda’s and my discussions, it seemed appropriate to write here, and to pass on my thoughts and questions.

Thinking about the future(s) of museums, you might say, is nothing new. Your are right. We all do it in a way when we set the course for the next years in programming, when a new board takes up its work or we compile financing plans. And there are, among others, change-makers like Jasper Visser and The Museum of the Future blog, or the AAM’s Center for the Future of Museums, whose thinkings are devoted to the future(s) on a regular basis.  However, in terms of museum conferences in Europe, it was the first that took on this topic in general and it seemed utterly appropriate to do this on neutral, Swiss ground.  

It all starts with questions
I loved how the whole conference was set up around questions. Questions cards were distributed on registration by mail long before the conference, and at the conference itself, on coffee tables and in the delegates bags. Speakers were asked a crisp question about the future(s) of their museum or museums in general first, before they presented. A whole booklet about the conference topic, published some weeks before and as a result of a workshop, comprises pages and pages of questions - some easy, some tough - about the status quo of your museum, how you assess this, what you wish for and where you might see room for improvement. Some of my favourites include:
  • What is your greatest weakness in terms of content, and how did it evolve?
  • Which offers with societal impact would you like to have in 20 years?
  • Do you actively ask your audience for feedback?
  • Would you be willing to run exhibitions and events solely for reasons of revenue increase?
  • How does the effort for communication relate to the one for content?
  • What is the role of individual, what of collaborative working?
  • Which image do you have of your own institution regarding its social and cultural relevance? Are you a preserver? A content provider? A stimulator of discourse? An opinion maker? A changer?
I believe that change starts with honest questioning, aloud or to yourself, and an open conversation; it continues with getting out of your comfort zone, scrutinizing what your are doing and why you are doing it, and if it's still in line with your ideas; it's about dreaming of where you want to go and some risk taking in leaving your own tracks in thinking and doing.

The whole setup of the conference acknowledged that there is no simple answer, and not the  one right answer for all museums. But rather very individual solutions, futures in plural, which requires knowing the individuality of your museum, first. And it is work. Or, as Isabelle Chassot, director at the Swiss Federal Office of Culture, put it: Museums can't be updated like an app; their future(s) need to be negotiated with society and politics in a long, but rewarding process.


Future is not (only) about technology
Future scenarios are often equated with technological progress, but that's only one side of it. The concept discussed at the conference aimed at a broad mindset, as the sample questions above indicate. Of course, questions about the future(s) of museums can not do without tackling issues like digitalisation. But globalisation, changes in demography, individualisation, urbanisation, economization, and flexibilisation -- trends identified by futurologists -- play an equally important part. And they create much tension, e.g. between programming for content and/or audiences; between niche and/or mainstream, between the amateur and/or professional and so on.

We have the choice
One of the very best parts about the conference was the emphasis on the “we”. The full title of the conference read: Museum future(s): We have the choice. It places the responsibility, but also the obligation, into the hands of us, the museum professionals. It reminds us that there are different paths and options to be considered. And that the future is not exclusively determined from outside, but that instead we should not give it out of our hands and start the shaping the future today. This empowerment is remarkable especially in German speaking countries, where it is quite common to delegate responsibility and action to political institutions and public authorities as the main financiers of museums. Yes, they do have the power to influence the course, but they are certainly not the strongest force, if we don’t let them. So the message here is let's not get pulled, but rather let's push things forward ourselves.


The hard way from theory to practice
The morning of the first conference day was devoted to magnificent, comprehensive, mostly provocative and rather theoretical reflections on the general positioning of the museums of the future as well as the visions of the future in previous centuries and what we could learn from this for today. Pascal Griener from the University of Neuenburg reminded us to be aware of the ideological residues stemming from 19th century when discussing current and future museum concepts. Zeev Gourarier, director of the MUCEM, named the importance of objects and collections, interdisciplinary approaches and a return to enchantment as keys to museum futures.

The afternoon sessions were meant to be devoted to deeper dives and to move on to the practical side of things. However, these got stuck more or less in the contemporary. The session on content and audience comprised descriptions of current education projects and stood pretty much clear of the actual topic of the conference, the future, for which subjects like the prerogative of interpretation must be discussed.

What makes it so difficult to take a look beyond now and some general plans for the future? What does it need, in terms of institutional frameworks and/or personal requirements? How can the many good questions raised at the conference and in the booklet be a starting point for active considerations - and maybe change?

Basil Rogger from the Zurich University of the Arts and author of the booklet, believes that we need to develop a culture of dealing with the future: we need to take care, to be persistent, to have fun, to find ease, and to actually shape the future and have the belief to do so.

Do you agree? What does it take to be a visionary these days, especially in the face of wearing daily business and given that the institution concerned is in itself devoted to the past? 
  

Take it further
If you can read one of Switzerland’s languages (German, French or Italian) I highly recommend downloading the booklet ‘Museum Futures’ by the Swiss Museum Association, which is full of food for thought and many more questions than the ones above. 

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

What AM I doing?

In a conversation with my great Take 5 colleagues the other day, we were talking about the shape of our days, our weeks and our months as independent professionals.  It's fairly often that I get asked questions about what I do, either by people interesting in becoming freelancers (by choice or not), people beginning their career and wondering how I got from there to here; and even people I met on airplanes, who ask things like, "so you pick the stuff on display?"  I thought I'd give a one-month (slightly longer) recap, to give a sense of what independent consulting means, at least in my case. Here goes:

In mid-July, I headed off to St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada, where I'm in the final stages of an managing and curating an exhibit for the headquarters of the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary.  An exhibit in a police headquarters is a first for me, and I'm working with an enthusiastic group of volunteers and designer Melanie Lethbridge.  I love St. John's, so I always make sure that my time there includes not only the archives, but also some walks out and about. This time, an evening spent watching whales cavort off Cape Spear, the easternmost point in North America.  Plus, time planning a new book project with Jane Severs, checking out the new exhibit at the Rooms, and a lively lunch with Jane and Kate Wolforth, talking all things interpretation.


In late July, I was a keynote speaker at the Association of Midwest Museums conference in Minneapolis.  I got to meet tons of great people, share some ideas on creativity and innovation, hear other great ideas, eat some amazing food and see the American Swedish Institute's beautiful new building and their historic house (plus, a chance to walk my creativity walk with some on-the-fly, totally unserious, historic house tour-giving.)  I also got a chance to catch up with Barb Wieser, an American friend from Ukraine and attend an event at the Ukrainian Cultural Center.  A big shout-out to the fabulous Paige Dansiger who captured me (above) and other speakers with her great on-the-spot sketches.


In between, and during travel, I'm catching up on emails, attempting to write blog posts, checking in with various clients, and thinking about new work including writing proposals that may or may not come to fruition. Hopefully each trip home includes a bank deposit, but not always.  See risk, below. Plus of course, finding time to enjoy summer in the Catskills--it's beautiful up here.


A relatively quick turn-around and I was off to Concord, MA, where I'm working on re-interpretation of The Old Manse for the Trustees.  The Old Manse is an historic house with a fascinating complex story, and this trip was to begin the prototyping process.  I did a training session with interpreters and some actual prototyping. It's always energizing to get feedback from visitors directly. Whether prototypes are successful or not, it's a process worth embarking on to deepen our thinking and challenge our assumptions.  On that same trip, one dinner with Rainey Tisdale, planning for a trip to Columbus, as well as catching up on everythin; and another dinner with a former Fulbrighter to Ukraine.  On the way home, I visited Fruitlands, a museum I'd heard about forever but had never been to.  If you're interested in museums I visit, I actually, and nerdily, maintain a Google map of those visits.

Again, a quick turn-around at home, enjoying summer, my husband, and a homemade music festival (thanks Gohorels!); also working to line up three international museums for my Johns Hopkins course, International Experiments in Museum Engagement, starting this week. Stay tuned for more on that.  I also agreed to serve as a Fulbright reviewer and Rainey and I began work on a journal article together.  Farmers' markets, walks in the cool evenings, and appreciating other people's gardens, all a part of home.  Plus of course, bills and invoices, emails, and other writing, and a conference call or two.

Off to the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center with a day-long review of our work together over the last several years, an appearance on public radio talking historic houses with Shannon Burke and Cindy Cormier, and making final plans for the exciting new visitor experience next year. Back home again after three days.  The week at home included work on the Old Manse, writing final text and reviewing designs for the Constabulary exhibit, JHU course prep, and prepping for a one-day workshop at the Ohio History Connection with Rainey. Plus a small bit of work for my ongoing client, Context Travel, commenting on a Paris walk framework and and a phone call about a possible speaking engagement.


That week also brought the start of an exciting new project.  With Lithuanian colleague Vaiva Lankeliene I am conducting an assessment of cultural heritage needs in Ukraine for the British Council/European Cultural Foundation.  There's much to dig in on and plans to make for a research visit in October. Thanks heavens for Google Translate, also getting used as I try to read French materials for another project possibility.

That Sunday we had an all-too infrequent Take 5 meeting here at my house.  Carolyn Macuga made the trek up a day early, so we jampacked Saturday with the Bovina Farm and Studio Tour and the Delaware County Fair.  Take 5 is always a wonderful time to reflect on our work, individually and collectively. Haven't checked out our website or signed up for the newsletter?  I hope you'll find them both useful and thought-provoking.  We talked ethics, book projects, SEOs, interpretation, and as always, ended with an infused vodka toast (this time, sour cherry, cucumber and basil, or blueberry).


An early morning departure once again (coupled with the desire that I could both live in a beautiful place and close to an airport), off to Columbus, Ohio,  A meet-up with Rainey and a fascinating tour of the Columbus Museum of Art, a place that has embraced creativity as a key part of their mission, followed by dinner with Megan Wood, one of my former mentees. The next day, two half-day workshops at the Ohio History Connection, trying out Creativity Karaoke (amazing job, all of you!), and some deep dives into embedding creativity into an institutional culture.

Back home again, to a day full of phone calls (not as common as it once was thanks to emails): brainstorming ideas with a potential new client; talking to a professional considering career changes; catching up on prototyping at the Old Manse with Caren Ponty, one of last year's JHU students who is helping out with the project;  and trying to puzzle out the laws of Ukraine regarding museums with Vaiva. I juggled scheduling video interviews long-distance  for the Constabulary exhibit and trying to plan a few blog posts. Ended the day in a Newfoundland way by trying out one of the recipes for the Colony of Avalon's Colonial Cookoff--reasonable success with apple fritters.

What's the point of this crazy narrative?

First, if you want to be a freelancer, think about what risks you really are comfortable with.  Everyone does it differently, but for me, it means serious multi-tasking (hence why I find typos in these blog posts!)  and more than a bit of risk. There's risk in bidding new projects, and continual uncertainty in a financial sense.  I love the challenge of all that, but it's not for everyone.

Second, reflect. I've spent more time this year reflecting on my own process and the ways in which I connect with clients and audiences.  The better I understand my own process, the better I can present my work to clients.

Third, gratitude.  My career has been a complicated, sometimes surprising and circuitous line of choices, but along the way, Drew and Anna, mentors, mentees,  Rainey, my Gang of Five, other colleagues, and clients have all helped me think more deeply about the work I do, how we might do it together and what risks we might take.  I try and pass my own experiences and knowledge forward, when people ask, but I will say, honestly, the thank-yous really matter.  I'm always willing to find time for coffee or a drink to meet new people, but I've been surprised this year when I made time for a couple young professionals who never followed up with a thank-you email.  Gratitude does matter.

Fourth, network, but gently.  I don't want to be in your face or in your social media feed constantly, but I do want you to think that I'm around, that I'm doing interesting things and that you might have a good project for us together. There's a ton of advice out there about your social media presence--I just blunder my own way and I know fellow consultants who have none, but make your own decisions about it.

Fifth, keep learning.  My work is predicated on my ability to learn new things:  new tools to help me work efficiently (hello, Slack), new ways of thinking about our work (on a regular basis, hello Nina Simon),  new places to understand (hello, Latvia),  new perspectives (hello #museumsrespondto Ferguson tweetchat) and new challenges (hello, Ukrainian cultural policy).  I still think of myself as an Emerging Museum Professional, because I always think I have more to learn.

If you're interested in working with me or pondering through a new project together, be in touch!

Monday, February 8, 2016

What am I doing in Latvia?

Late last night, I arrived in Riga, Latvia, waking up this morning to the view above from my home for the next two weeks. Building from a chance conversation I had when I stopped over here in fall, 2014, I'll be facilitating a series of workshops for colleagues here on topics that include creativity in museums, community engagement and more.

I'll write more as I go along about my partners and sponsor, but this post is just a quick reflection on how grateful I am to have these experiences. In talking about the upcoming trip with a colleague a couple weeks ago, he said, "how great! You get to go into people's offices!" And then went on to explain that what he really meant was that this experience, and my others in Ukraine, give me the rare chance to see museums not as a tourist or visitor, but to understand the challenges, the dreams, the creative successes that we might only see from the inside--from that staff office.

But even if you're not headed to Latvia--you can do the same. Try a day at work when you change offices with a co-worker. Does it shift your perspective? Do a one day job exchange with a colleague. What do you learn? Go work somewhere else for the day or take the time to go have coffee with someone in a related but not exact profession. Embrace curiosity as a key element of your work--I have, and the results have been amazing.

One goal of this two weeks is to write frequent, if brief blog updates, so stay tuned. If you're so inclined, you can also find my visual note taking on Instagram as @lindabnorris.

 

Friday, January 29, 2016

Meet the Mentees

One of the best parts of my year, yet one of the hardest, is choosing for my mentorship program each year. This year, more than 30 of you shared your dreams for the museum field, your personal hopes for the future, your creative heroes, and objects that moved you emotionally. Thanks to all of you and I only wish I had time enough for everyone.

Related wish: that my other more experienced colleagues would do the same. So I'll begin with that offer. If you think you have something to offer as a mentor, be in touch with me and we'll see how we could expand the pool of people willing to engage in deep conversations about the future. I can guarantee that you'll gain as much if not more than you give. Our professional organizations are mov slowish or not at all on this, and I know from my JHU students and from applicants that more mentorship opportunities are sorely needed. I can move faster than an organization so let's get going!

I wanted to share some of the great responses. Creative heroes: only one person got mentioned twice. Jim Henson of the Muppets. But also on applicants's lists were David Bowie and David Lynch, a sit-com writing dad, Lin Manual Miranda, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, several colleagues, and others.

Emotional objects: the range of objects was incredible from the way a child's shoe in a Holocaust exhibit moved a young mom, to human remains, to contemporary art, to a frozen piece of mutton, and emotions ranged from joy to deep sadness and everywhere in between.

My two choices were surprising to me and in retrospective, they have some connections I hadn't quite articulated in my head before having our first conversations. David Lewis and Amanda Guzman have or are working on their PhDs, and they both come from outside the history world. As the field considers how what kinds of training and degrees are useful, it's intriguing to consider the place of emerging scholars in museums (and, whether it was all worth it). I think my world view will be expanded by theirs, which is one of my hopes in the mentorship.

They'll each be writing blog posts over the course of the year, so you'll hear more from them directly, but for now, a brief introduction in their own words.

Dave Lewis (and, by the way, the first male, and as always, one of very few male applicants ever, a conversational subject for another day.).

Dave is Curator of Collections and Digital Media at the Birthplace of Country Music Museum in Bristol, TN. It's his first museum job and he will defend his dissertation this summer on music, AIDS and public health in Trinidad and Tobago.

His big questions framed around several areas--how do we think about collections in ways that matter, and in ways that reflect honest relationships with the communities such material comes from? He's also interested in thinking about how museums can participate in tourism events, and at the same time, enhance our roles as places of learning. Plus (Dave had a long list of questions) thinking about broad digital accessibility, and how collections can be more valuable in ways both economic and intellectual.

His creative hero: Diamande Galas. Check her out.

Amanda Guzman

Amanda's currently a PhD student at Berkeley in anthropology. She's interned at the Smithsonian, both at the Museum of Natural History and the Museum of the American Indian. She has a particular interest in the ways museums with Caribbean archaeological collections engage with both the diaspora and those in the community on the islands. Some of her big questions:

  • What constitutes a compelling museum narrative?
  • Should museums continue to be object-oriented display environments?
  • How can one balance academic concerns and creativity in museum work?

The change she'd like to see, like many of you, comes from her own experiences.

I would personally advocate for the introduction of an earlier, easily accessible stage of deepengagement with museums - specifically as a potential career option. As a native New Yorker with ahistory buff mother, museums were ever-present in my childhood as trans-formative places ofencountering new social worlds through the exhibition of often unfamiliar objects. Yet, it was only through free educational programs (e.g. taking anthropology classes) and internships (e.g. giving toursto school groups and working in an archaeology laboratory) respectively in both high school andcollege, that I became aware of my own ability to participate in museums in a role other than that of avisitor. These experiences are what introduced me to the intersection of the fields of anthropology andmuseum studies. They informed my decision to major in anthropology and current pursuit of a PhDdissertation topic which privileges the analysis of the history of anthropology and the history ofmuseum collecting in the given geographic area of the Spanish Caribbean, specifically Puerto Rico.

I'm looking forward to a great year of conversations and my immense thanks to all of you who applied--I hope all of our paths cross in person at some point as you set sail on your careers.


 

Monday, January 4, 2016

Surprise! Looking Back at 2015

Like most bloggers, I spent the last few weeks contemplating my year-end post. So much time, in fact, that the year ended! I was lucky enough to ring in the new with Drew, Anna and thousands of Romans and visitors to Rome overlooking the Coliseum. But now, time for some reflection. I visit lots of museums, so many in fact that I keep track on a google map (2014 and 2015 combined). I realized that the one thing I wanted most in a museum or historic site visit was to be surprised. So here, in roughly chronological order, are the museums, exhibits and historic places that surprised me or made me feel a sense of joy and importance in our work. I've written about some of these, but others are thought of and shared often in person but I just didn't find the time to write about.

Sherlock Holmes at the Museum of London
One of the smartest, most clever exhibits I'd seen in a long time, as befits the master detective. I loved the way historic objects and images were used to tell the story of Holmes in London. The place became real, but so did those 19th shoes used to explain Holmes' observation skills, and of course, that blue coat worn by Benedict Cumberbatch.

Dennis Severs House, London
Like magic. Entering at night, by candlelight, visiting in silence, voices rustle away as you enter a room. What is going on in this 18th century house? It was thrilling to see a historic house as an artistic creation by a single individual, with the ability to transport us to a different time with no more bells and whistles than candlelight, a room in disarray and a subtle sound track.


The Battlefields of the First World War, France
I would not have believed you if you told me one of my memorable historic site visits this year would be a visit to battlefields, on a chartered bus guided tour with college students, but it was. Why? First, a good, lively guide, with good knowledge and ability to judge his audience. Second, the people I was with. Watching students take in the enormity and waste of war in direct ways. Third, the physical places themselves. To walk in a trench now softened and green, to see a bomb crater, to read the names and names and names at a memorial. And lastly, to have a bit of meaning-making come full circle. We stopped at the Beaumont-Hamel Memorial, commemorating the first day of the Battle of the Somme when an entire Newfoundland regiment was virtually wiped out. The centennial is approaching and there are many commemorative efforts underway in Newfoundland. This summer, at a small outport town. I happened to have a conversation about visiting there. "You did?" said an older man, "my father lost an arm there." All of a sudden that battle was even more real, echoing down the years.

Museum Karel Zeman Prague
"Why do I make movies? I'm looking for terra incognita, a land on which no filmmaker has yet set foot, a planet where no director has planted his flag of conquest, a world that exists only in fairy tales." Karel Zeman

Pure joy. Just steps away from the Charles Bridge, the museum focuses on the work of pioneering Czech animator Karel Zeman. Using the hand-drawn early 20th century animations as a design starting point, combined with hands-on activities that explain the special effects, this museum turned our group of serious adults into a group deep into serious play. A perfect match of creative content, design and interpretation.


Context Travel Walks in Berlin, Prague and Budapest
Context Travel has been a great client for three years now and as result I've been on a number of their scholar-led small group deep dives into art and history. With them I've learned about art in the Vatican, Revolutionary Paris, the Golden Age of Amsterdam and even the food of Istanbul. But this year, four walks in these three Central European cities really stood out for me. The walks were on Jewish history and the Berlin Wall in Berlin, and the Communist era in both Budapest and Prague for three main reasons: a strong sense of place, even when some of the elements of a particular place had vanished. As I stood at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin, a great docent helped us understand that the site had once been surrounded by the buildings in which the bureaucratic apparatus of Fascism functioned as a killing machine. Two, a sense of real people's history.

It was on the same walk that I first encountered artist Gunter Demnig's Stolpersteins, or stumbling blocks. The size of a cobblestone, these brass plaques are installed in front of the former homes of Nazi victims with just a simple name and date. You can now find them in many European cities-I saw them most recently in Rome last week.

But the most important factor in making these walks memorable were the docents' own stories. It always a fine line to work between over sharing and just right, but I'll long remember the story of one docent's brother participating in the 1968 protests, another sharing his story of being brought up in West Berlin when it seemed the height of teenage rebellion to go piss on the wall after a night of drinking. In Budapest, our docent, raised in Romania, helped us compare personal lives under regimes.


National Art Museum, Kyiv, Ukraine
Two exceptionally smart exhibits here last spring demonstrated the value of deep thinking about museum collections and the history of how museums have thought about the objects they hold. Heroes looked at art in the museum collection categorized as "hero" from Lenin to poets to heroic workers while another exhibit examined those works that had been blacklisted by various regimes and the roles (sometimes heroic and sometimes not) that museum staff played in categorizing and sometimes safeguarding such works. We have much to learn from examining our own histories. The museum's innovative director, Maria Zhadorzha, departed at the end of 2015; I only hope the Ukrainian Ministry of Culture has the initiative to name an equally talented director to lead the museum's exceptional team.

The Exploratorium, San Francisco and The Oakland Museum, Oakland
Paired together for two reasons: one, the same trip west, but two, places whose reputation precedes them. It's great to see that places you read about live up to their reputations. Great experiences both places but at the Exploratorium the surprises were how welcoming the exhibits were to adult experimentation and play and how they're expanding beyond the physical sciences to take on more complicated topics. In Oakland, the talk-back labels were genius, and visiting on a Friday community night showed that museums can attract broad segments of visitors, if they really make an effort.

The New Founde Land pageant, Trinity, Newfoundland
This seemed possibly hokey to me, and parts of it were. But the other hand, a musical theater production that moves the audience from place to place within a historic village while providing us all with a bit of Newfoundland's complicated history, proved unexpectedly moving.




Scandale:  Vice, Crime and Morality, 1940-1960,  at the Montreal History Center
This shouldn't have been a surprise to me because the exhibit Scandale was curated by one of my 2014 mentees, Catherine Charlebois, and our conversations that year often ranged widely over the issues of developing creative exhibitions. The exhibit uses oral histories as a framework, installed in all sorts of ways: a nightclub tables, in mug shots, at a card game. There were not many objects in the exhibit so, purposefully so, the oral histories and photographs do the storytelling work. Most surprising: walking in a recreation of a prostitute's room and seeing a downward video projection of a couple on the bed!

Lessons Learned
The lessons for me in all these surprises? Experimentation, a sense of humor, a deep commitment to place, and most of all, the sense in exhibit and historic site interpretation that our complicated human natures can make almost every story compelling and moving. I'm grateful to my clients, old and new, who embrace our creative process together.

What will surprise me in 2016? I've already got a few museum visits already completed this year and it's only the first week of January, so I know there will be surprises coming. In your work, consider making a resolution that surprise and joy are a part of your next project. Surprise me! What could you do differently?

(And please forgive the somewhat wonky posting and formatting. There's a learning curve on my new iPad!)

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Buzzing Around: A Mentee Reflects on Professional Development


Each year, I ask my mentees to share something about their work and their ongoing learning in a few blog posts. First up this year, Susan Fohr, who is Education Programs Coordinator at the Textile Museum of Canada in Toronto.

My identity as a museum educator has been most profoundly shaped in recent years by my involvement in two professional networks -- the Canadian Art Gallery Educators (CAGE) and the Mozilla Hive Toronto Learning Network – which have each impacted my practice in very different ways.

CAGE is Canada’s professional organization for educators and programmers working in the art gallery field, which hosts an annual symposium in a different region of the country each spring. I attended my first CAGE symposium in Toronto in 2012, during which I realized I had found a group of people who face the same joys and challenges in their day to day practice, and who share a similar philosophy about the role of educators within our institutions and society at large. I did not hesitate in putting my name forward to be a part of the CAGE executive at that year’s annual general meeting, wanting an opportunity to be a part of ongoing conversations with my colleagues throughout the whole year. Being a part of the CAGE executive, a volunteer role, has allowed me to develop new professional skills outside of my role at the Textile Museum of Canada– I have been involved in the planning of three national conferences, handling registration in the role of Treasurer this year.

The symposium has become a highlight of my professional year over the past four years, allowing me to reconnect with colleagues from across the country as well as learning from international leaders within the field of museum education. Paging through the now full notebook that I have brought with me to Toronto, Montreal, Kelowna and Regina is a testimony to the range of ideas, perspectives and approaches that characterize contemporary gallery education both nationally and internationally. From sessions on best practices using tablet computers on gallery tours to conversations about representing and working with indigenous communities I have been introduced to a wide range of interpretive strategies that I have been able to apply in our programming at the Textile Museum of Canada.

The CAGE symposium provides a wonderful recharge every spring, but it has helped me appreciate the need for a local network and professional colleagues with whom I can connect in person and work with collaboratively on projects throughout the year. Interestingly the professional network that I have developed in my own community consists mostly of educators working in other informal learning settings like libraries, maker spaces and neighbourhood programs for youth.

Toronto is just one city in which the Mozilla Foundation has initiated a learning network (New York, Chicago and Pittsburgh are others), allowing organizations with the shared purpose of working with youth and promoting digital literacy “to explore how to better link to, learn from and support one other, while thinking strategically about how to make it easier for great programs to spread, and to connect mentors with shared affinities to generate richer experiences for youth.” In addition to the promotion of digital literacy and 21st century skills, entrepreneurship and a celebration of all forms of making are touchstones of programming supported through these networks. The former director of Mozilla Hive Toronto often used the analogy of a buffet to describe the network -- each of the 60+ organizations is invited to sample from a range of opportunities provided through the network. From monthly conference calls and meetups to funding to support projects developed collaboratively by more than one member organization, Mozilla Hive Toronto provides professional development for educators within the network, as well as opportunities to share knowledge, tools and audiences, ensuring that resources are used most fully and holistically across the network and the communities in which we work.



As one venue for informal education, museums have a lot to learn from maker spaces, neighbourhood youth programs, entrepreneurship programs, and tech startups. My involvement in both CAGE and Hive have revealed the common challenges that we face as educators across disciplines can only be addressed through collaborative practice and an openness to share knowledge, resources and expertise. By identifying our own unique strengths and needs, as well as those of our colleagues and partners, we can develop ways to work more efficiently, creatively and respectfully.
Here are some examples of symbiosis that have been achieved by working strategically within these professional networks:

Connecting with new audiences
In the spring of 2014, the TMC was developing a series of workshop modules for youth that explore the future of fashion. We wanted to explore 3D printing, wearable electronics, printmaking and garment construction; some of these topics were new to us, so we reached out to our partners within the Hive Network who could help us develop our competencies so we could lead future workshops ourselves. Recognizing past challenges we’ve faced in attracting youth participation in programs at our museum, we offered to host our workshops in the well-established youth drop-in programs offered by Hive partners at public library branches, another museum and neighbourhood youth programs. These organizations were able to provide new workshop offerings, and we were able to develop our competencies in delivering content related to 3D printing and soft circuits.



Sharing unique knowledge and best practices
In 2008, the TMC organized an exhibition of carpets from Afghanistan which incorporate images of war such as tanks, grenades and helicopters.  Understanding the challenging nature of some of the subject matter within the exhibition, we developed a resource guide to distribute to educators, anticipating some of the questions that might arise from the exhibition and providing background information about the historical and cultural context of the objects on display. As the exhibition began to tour Canada, this resource guide was included in the touring package, Having met me at a few CAGE conferences, a colleague from one of the institutions that hosted the exhibition reached out directly for additional advice on how to engage students in the exhibition content and recommendations for potential public programs. It was rewarding to see how another institution could build on our successes and adapt the content to the needs of their own community.

I hope these examples will provide inspiration for looking to your own networks for support as you embark on a new project. Our professional networks should allow for more than just opportunities for reflective practice and considering the big issues within our disciplines; our professional networks are there to support our day-to-day practice as museum professionals.

Images, top to bottom:

Integrating traditional skills and new forms of making in a wearable electronics workshop, spring 2014 Photo by Susan Fohr

2015 CAGE Symposium delegates receive a tour of the exhibition Moving Forward, Never Forgetting with curators Michelle LaVallee and David Garneau at the Mackenzie Art Gallery, Regina, Saskatchewan Photo by Carey Shaw

Installation view of the exhibition Battleground: War Rugs from Afghanistan, 2008 Photo by Jill Kitchener

Monday, March 16, 2015

Why Aren't You a Mentor? Yes, You!


Over the past couple weeks I've had in-person, on the phone, and email conversations with mentees from all three years of my own little mentor program.  I've rejoiced in one new job; heard stories of grandparents who marched across that bridge in Selma fifty years ago; talked about why it all matters, the work we do;  puzzled over objects and emotions; and got my thoughts around some ideas about object interpretation for a call later this week.

I started my mentor program because I thought perhaps I had something to pass forward. I'd had many people in my own professional life who had mentored me along the way and whose lessons I still remember.  But I'm finding out that I'm getting back far more than I'm putting in.  My own network expands with each of our deepening conversations and my chance to learn about other people's lives, histories, and ambitions only broadens my own world view.

So here's the question.  Why aren't more of you mentors?  I hear some pretty regular complaints from experienced colleagues about young professionals not understanding, or not wanting to work hard like we did, or ....  .  I like to suggest that more of us need to step up as mentors--and that you don't have to have been in the field forever to be one.  This morning, I read this about how scarcity thinking holds nonprofits back.   I think we've got far too much scarcity thinking in how we approach our colleagues as well.  Our field needs to be abundant and generous, welcoming all kinds of people, with all kinds of training, all kinds of viewpoints, and all kinds of experiences.  Yes, you can find the time.

A challenge to our service organizations:  AAM, AASLH and NCPH.  How about establishing working, nurturing mentor programs?  What are you waiting for when there's a clear need?

Special thanks for this post's to Alicia Akins, Megan Wood, Catherine Charlebois, Shakia Gullette and Susan Fohr, my mentees, past and present, for inspiring a blue sky future.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Abundant Thinking

Like many Americans, I spent yesterday, Thanksgiving Day,  surrounded by abundance:  of family, of food, of laughter and stories--all a reminder of how grateful and lucky I am.  But a conversation earlier in the week reminded me of how much more aware we could all be of abundance in our professional lives.   In talking with a colleague about what I'd learned at the NEMA conference,  she mentioned that she couldn't remember a workplace where there was space or time for those who attended conferences to share what they had learned.  But how easy would that be?  Rather than hoarding your knowledge, when you go in on Monday,  send out an invitation for a brown bag lunch conversation to share new knowledge--from conferences, from books, from blogs, from your hobbies.

Rainey and I have been thrilled that we've heard from a number of colleagues who have read Creativity and Museum Practice together as a staff, trying out ideas and sharing perspectives.  So if you don't know where to start--the Try This sections of the book are free ideas to jumpstart your creative efforts.

And to push the abundance further out, include people outside of your regular sphere:  invite other departments; volunteers; whoever you can think of.   Take that turkey-filled abundance back to work with you.  The more we think together, the more solutions we can find for the tough problems all of our organizations face.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

11 Questions to a Museum Blogger on the Day After


Jamie Glavic, one of the co-organizers of Museum Blogs Day yesterday tagged me with 11 Questions for a Museum Blogger (you can see her responses here on her blog Museum Minute) that originally came from Blogstockchen).  I didn't quite make my answers in time for the day, but here they are.  I loved learning about blogs to keep an eye on, and thanks to Jamie and Jenni Fuchs at Museums140 for a great day.

1.  Who are you and what do you like about blogging?

I’m Linda Norris, and despite a pretty considerable amount of time in the field, still think of myself as an emerging museum professional.  I live in a tiny village in upstate New York and have done everything in museums, from working at a children's museum, giving tours at a wine museum, running a small historical society, developing exhibits and interpretation, heading up a museum service agency, and now working independently. I blog as a way of keeping conversations going.  Sometimes those conversations are just with myself, sometimes with museums I’ve visited, with ideas, and most of all, with you, my colleagues.  It’s been incredible when those conversations (like with Jasper Visser last month) have turned into in-person ones.  I love it when blog readers come up at conferences and introduce themselves to talk. In our book, Rainey Tisdale and I talk about creative people being open, generous and connected--the blog lets me be all that.  I also like that I can do it in my pajamas.



2.  What is the most popular post on your blog?

The most popular posts often seem to be those where I’m just an observant museum visitor, reporting on what I see and learn from big places. Recently a post about the Rijksmuseum’s great labels and handouts got great traffic, as have posts on the Minnesota Historical Society’s inventive labels and a wonderful docent at the Getty Museum.

3. And which post on your blog is your personal favorite?
I’ve been blogging a long time (since 2007) so picking one favorite is hard as so much of my blogging is so tied up with my own memories and experiences.  But as I look back, my favorite ones are from my first months in Ukraine as a Fulbright Scholar, where now, I can really see myself trying to puzzle my way through an entirely different culture and way of thinking about museums.  You can find those in January-May, 2009 if you’re interested.
  
4.  If you had a whole week just to blog: which subject would you like to thoroughly research and write about?
I am just a ditherer, with so many things I’d like to spend more time on. Currently these questions on my short list:

  • Are museum studies programs producing the next generation of great, creative museum professionals?  And if not, why not?
  • How can service organizations inspire their member museums in addition to serving as a place for information and resources?
  • And the really big one—how can museums be more meaningful in their communities, particularly in communities undergoing rapid change or disruption?



5. If you could ask anyone at all to write a guest post for your blog (you can be as utopian as you like), who would you chose and what would you ask them to write about?
Hmmm…I think I’d ask some great storytellers to write about narrative.  I’d love Hilary Mantel or Adam Johnson, both of whose books enthralled me;  or alternatively, Wes Anderson, about how he creates entire visual worlds in his films and how that might relate to what we do.

6. What has been your most memorable museum experience? 


Definitely impossible to choose. 

7. What was the last museum you visited and how was it?
Fascinating, unexpected, slightly impenetrable—my last museum visit was to the Museum of Innocence in Istanbul.  I’m still pondering on how to write a blog post about it.

8. Share your favorite photo with us that you took at a museum.
A couple different ones (do you get the sense I have a hard time making choices?)  At the top of the post, boys on a school trip at the Louvre filling out worksheets on nudes;  and center, someone role-playing at the DDR Museum in Berlin.  I still remember Katrin whispering to me upon seeing him, "Look, he makes himself physically like a bureaucrat on the phone!"  Totally immersed, solitary, in the moment.  

9.  If time and money were not an issue, which museum in the world would you most like to visit?
I’ve been really lucky that my work life over the last couple years has led me to so many amazing places around the world—but the museum I would most like to visit is one that surprises me—so I won’t know until I stumble across it.


10. There are many big and famous museums, but which is your personal favourite ‘hidden gem’?
At the moment, Museum of Jurassic Technology, Los Angeles and Teyler's Museum, in Haarlem, the Netherlands.

11. Do you have any insider tips on any of the museums you have visited or blogged about?
Here’s a tip I learned from my colleagues at Context Travel who provide in-depth walks of many of the world’s great museums.  Go the opposite direction from everyone else.  Sounds silly, but it’s amazing how often you can find galleries with a bit of space for solitary reflection when you reverse against the crowd.  And the second:  if you travel at all, an ICOM membership is a fabulous thing—admits you free almost everywhere. (and it’s also great to be a part of that world-wide community).

And passing it forward, I'm tagging three more bloggers I admire:  Gretchen Jennings, Anne Ackerson and Nicole Deufel in the hopes they'll respond as well.  Here's your task: 
  • Answer the eleven questions – you can adapt them a little to fit your blog, if you like.
  • Include the BEST BLOG image in your post, and link back to the person who nominated you (that would be me, by the way, or more specifically, this blog post).
  • Devise eleven new questions – or feel free to keep any of these ones here if you like them – and pass them on to how ever many bloggers you would like to.

Here's my questions for you. 
  1. Who are you and what do you like about blogging?
  2. What search terms lead people to your blog?
  3. Which post on your blog is your personal favorite?
  4. If you had a whole week just to blog: which subject would you like to thoroughly research and write about?
  5. If you could ask anyone at all to write a guest post for your blog (you can be as utopian as you like), who would you chose and what would you ask them to write about?
  6. What was your first museum job?
  7. What was the last museum you visited and how was it?
  8. Share your favorite photo with us that you took at a museum or historic site.
  9. If time and money were not an issue, which museum in the world would you most like to visit?
  10. What's the biggest lesson you learned from a failure?
  11. If you could work anywhere, what museum would you like to work in?