Why Aren't You a Mentor?

Who me?  Yes, you, that experienced professional, emerging professional, or even grad student. You!

As regular blog readers now, every year I put out a call for mentees, and each year work with one or two of you. That call will be coming next week, but I wanted to push more of you to consider becoming a mentor yourself.  I've heard from many people that they would like mentors, but don't know how to find them and that the need for mentors outstrips the supply.

I emailed all my mentees (hi, you guys!) and asked some questions about my own program. I was struck by how many of them said some version of the same thing: "What struck a chord with me is this idea of former mentees paying it forward and magnifying our efforts."  Said another,

I would love to be a mentor someday but when I was doing it with you I would not have had the time to do it in exchange. But, for example, you could write up a little guide on your blog about mentoring museum professionals that would encourage and inspire others do to it.

So here goes: my five tips for being a good mentor, interspersed with some quotes from my mentees.

1.  Be honest.  Be honest about the time you spend, and more importantly, be honest with the mentee. You are not their boss, their significant other, or even a work colleague. They need you to be honest. I have found that sometimes I needed to be what felt like brutally frank about where people are in the field and where they might head.

I think for me, the mentoring process came in phases. Our conversations built my confidence and I began to change my thinking. After I believed in my abilities I needed to create a plan to succeed, but I soon realized that I had limited resources and I needed to create a network.

2.  Don't be afraid of what you don't know.  Being a mentor is not being Wikipedia. Sometimes a question would send me looking for more information and ideas, and along the way, I learned as well.

This is also why I enjoyed the informal nature of the mentorship; each mentee had the opportunity to shape the conversations, and while I did appreciate the tangible task of writing the blog posts, I did also welcome the openness regarding how many posts we could write, and allowing the topics to emerge out of our conversations.

3.  Be generous.  You need to commit time, but I found the generosity that might be most important is generosity about your own experiences, including those failures along the way.

I have valued the ability to speak freely about what has driven my interest in museum research and what has stood out to me in today's exhibition content. On the flip side, I have enjoyed learning about what you do (as well as what that entails on a practical note) and the many different museum audiences that we can get at with our work (of particular interest being the U.S. v. Europe case study).
4.  Be committed.  I spend one hour a month Skyping with each mentee.  It's up to the mentees to chose the topic, and we try and schedule the next month as we finish.

For me it was a real connection and we took the time to really meet and talk. It had the value of obliging me to pause, discuss and reflex on my work, aspiration and challenges as a professional but in an other dimension then my day to day work.

5.  Be a lifelong learner.  

I have had the experience previously of moving from mentee and mentor; it is a powerful experience to be empowered to build on what you have been taught and to share your experiences.

I think it's particularly important as we work to make museums more diverse, inclusive spaces, that we look to mentor all kinds of people.  If you're in graduate school, can you mentor a high school or undergraduate student, to introduce them to the work of museums?  If you're an emerging professional who went to graduate school, consider looking for a mentee who is entering the field from another direction?

But, I can hear you thinking, where am I going to find a mentee?  Aren't they supposed to find me? I know some people seek out mentors, and several of my mentees have sought out next-step mentors, based on their experiences with me.  You can make it known that you're committed to the future of the field.  Talk to colleagues at other organizations and ask them to suggest potential mentees.  Go to Drinking About Museums in your city, meet people, and be open. Put a post on your LinkedIn profile.  If you appear open and enthusiastic, people will find you. Your mentee might be someone older than you;  or someone younger.  It honestly doesn't matter.  What does matter is that you pay it forward in some way, and that together, we make our field a meaningful place for everyone.  My little experiment in mentorship over the last four years has repaid me in more ways than I can count.

What questions do you have about being a mentor?

And stay tuned, for this year's mentor announcement.

What Do We Want From Our Professional Organizations?

Over the past month or so, I've had several different conversations, online and in person, with colleagues talking about what we want from our professional organizations.  These discussions ranged from encouraging AAM, AASLH and other organizations to take stronger stands on issues such as diversity and inclusion, unpaid internships, or whether our own professional organizations could embrace the role of museums as the Canadian Museum Association did in their statement (below) welcoming refugees.

In my JHU online course, International Experiments in Community Engagement, my students reflected on what they, as emerging professionals, wanted from AAM and other professional organizations. Here's a bit of what they said (emphases mine).

I think one of the most critical things that AAM needs to address, although maybe not resolve, is the question of what the role of the 21st century museum is? We've discussed this at various points in this course, and I envision the AAM as serving in the role of facilitator of this larger discussion to make sure that it continues to happen. While AAM may not be able to define the answer and impose it on museums, I think that sponsoring a campaign like "Museums Change Lives" could be very effective. Beyond this critical question, I think that the AAM needs to look at where it and museums in general are at in the context of larger social issues as they apply to the work of museums.

I think that museum related professional organizations must be more proactive in pushing for museum staff to be more diverse, phase out unpaid interns, and close the paygap. (Unlikely that this can be accomplished, but I can dream). This can be done through mentorships, funding paid fellowships, and allowing for more opportunities for professional development for young professionals and students from diverse backgrounds. ...For people of color, the statistics of employment for curatorial, and management jobs are appalling and highlight the fact that as a POC the opportunities for actually entering the profession are daunting and nearly impossible. I also think that more needs to be done about changing the practice of using unpaid interns. And professional organizations should take a stand against this practice. 

Many of these organizations, especially AAM are expensive, and if you sign up at a lesser rate, you do not get the benefits of the higher rate such as access to sample documents. For someone like me, that works in a very small underfunded organization, having access to this information is beneificial across the board...Having "tiers" is exactly what we don't want in the museum community- a higher echelon that dictates as opposed to working with -aka in the trenches- for the community it supports.

I would like an organization that provides standards for ethics and advocates for museum and museum workers. It should provide a platform for discussion amongst peers whether it is job search, references, or furthering education. It would also be nice to have some sort of job search help with resume and CV writing.

I think a key part of the AAM's new strategic plan should revolve around community museum relationships...The AAM can play an important role in making these kinds of case studies widely available and encouraging dialogue. Just like AAM has spurred on discussions about evaluation and technology, the AAM can take on the same role when it comes to encouraging museums to pursue community partnerships. The AAM can create the safe space for museum professionals to discuss, brainstorm, and work through how to best going about engaging the community and finding relevancy through relationships. 

I think a vital aspect of a professional organization is to provide a robust community of continued learning.

The second thing I’d like from a professional organization is a more personal need, which is guidance and mentoring. I’m new to the field, as are many of us, and ongoing help, guidance, and coaching would probably reduce my anxiety as I launch myself into whatever awaits. AAM has a good career center, but I didn’t get the impression they were as strong in career guidance as in providing job resources.

Working smarter, not harder could save organizations money, time, and energy. In listing strategies to accomplish sustainability, AAM lists four that include memberships, business opportunities, becoming goal-oriented, and strengthening its brand. However, I think this could be expanded to include other aspects such as ethics or something we’ve been working hard towards in this course: community engagement.

I agree that the those real world case studies is one of my favorite things about AAM. Their conferences especially do an excellent job bringing professionals together to share their stories and experiences.

After the events on Friday and our discussions this semester, maybe they should also address crisis management issues in museums from a collection, a community and global support perspective.

One of the first things that I think (and am hoping) the AAM gets on board with is addressing diversity both internally and externally.

I’d also like to see programs to support employment at small rural museums or institutions that are generally off the radar. It seems like there is a lot of turnover and competitiveness in the field, but most of what is advertised are positions at large reputable museums. It would be nice to see equal enthusiasm as well as grant-supported positions and advocacy for a diverse body of institutions. Maybe something like the Teach America program, in a museum setting. 

I also like the idea of a huge, shared database of national museum collections so museums can share resources and collaborate with their peers in a more streamline manner. 

I think it is essential that the role of the curator be opened up to include the intellectual and social engagement of the museum’s entire community, but I’d like to see the AAM and other professional organizations work toward redefining this role so that specialized or advanced knowledge is still a celebrated aspect of curatorship.

I would personally like to see two things prioritized for AAM members: a regularly updated, well-publicized job board where museums can post open positions and individuals can search for them, and continuing education opportunities.

Professional Development opportunities are sometimes few and far between for smaller museums, and is often the first thing to get cut. AAM has the unique opportunity to help fill that void. However it needs to be accessible and affordable. Online is definitely a viable way to create more affordable programming that doesn't require travel!

I would love to see more museum advocacy aimed at increased awareness in communities of what local and state museums have to offer. I know there is a "National Museum Day" and other days like that, but I would like to see something more tangible. Does AAM have a goal of increasing museum visitor numbers overall?

What are my take-aways from this?  The needs and desires are many, and there's no way any single organization can address all of them.  But that said, there appears to be, from my students and others in the field, the sense that museums need to look internally at our practices; and to be better community partners--and that our professional organizations can take the lead in supporting both of those ideas.   In addition, the affordability of resources including professional development, is a key question for both small organizations and emerging professionals.  Perceived value for money will determine participation. As one of my students said above, "having "tiers" is exactly what we don't want in the museum community."

And finally, there's a need for coaching and mentoring.  Don't forget to apply for my own mentorship program, with applications due December 18.  

What do you want from your professional organizations?

We are the Change: Mentorship Round 4

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.
                                                                                           Barack Obama

The winds of change are blowing through museums this year, heading us down uncertain paths, both exhilarating and sometimes scary. For once, it's not the financial shivery wind of a recession, but a deeper gust, about our place and our responsibilities in society. One of the ways to face that change head on, in our field and in our careers, is to work together. We need to reach out collectively to explore not just how to build a career, but how to make museums more vital, more meaningful, more important places to more people. And so, as our field sails on uncertain seas, buffeted by winds of change, it's time once again for my own small mentorship program. 

I started this three years ago because I was impatient with our professional organizations. I wanted to make more of a contribution to the field but on my own terms (those of you who know me will easily recognize that quality of mine). Selfishly, I wanted to ensure I continued on my own path of lifelong learning and generously, I wanted to see how my own knowledge and experiences might be useful in other paths.  I've had an unusual career, from small museum director to running a museum service organization to teaching, to freelance work that now takes me to more places around the world than I ever imagined. Over the last three years, the chance to develop new relationships with amazing colleagues has kept me on that lifelong learning path, expanded my own web of connections, and brought new surprises into my work.  And that's why there's a Round 4.

Do you need a mentor?  This is open to anyone, at any stage of their career, anywhere in the world. Sadly my language skills mean you must be an English speaker. I'm looking for passionate, curious people--because I'm also learning during the year. Your curiosity and passion make great conversations happen for both of us. You might want to explore how your interests and museum work intersect, to learn to work more collaboratively with colleagues, to push interpretive ideas or to consider how to change the field. What do I bring to mentoring?  I'm a great questioner, wanting you to go deeper in your thinking. I love connecting ideas and people. I'm honest with my feedback. And I care passionately about the museum field and the communities we live and work in. 

But it's not my solely my perspective that matters in this process. Here's what previous mentees shared with me. They are each very different people, thinking about different ideas and at different places in their career, so a year's conversations were equally varied.

Susan Fohr of the Ontario Textile Museum, a 2015 mentee, wrote:

I've really appreciated having a colleague to whom I could talk on a regular basis about the big ideas and issues facing our profession, in particular interpretation and community engagement. Your willingness to share your professional experiences while encouraging me to share my own perspectives has given me greater confidence to make my voice heard. One of the things that has resonated with me the most from our conversations is something you mentioned during our very first meeting: write! 

Writing does not come easily to me, but some of the work of which I am most proud are things that I have written. Whether it was writing my responses for my mentee application or writing blog posts, I had the opportunity to craft lines of thinking that have never been as fully formed or articulated as I would have liked. There will be a lot to unpack in the new year, and I hope I can continue to develop the ideas we explored together in another forum that involves both conversation and writing!

And Megan Wood, of the Ohio Historical Society shared a longer lookback from her 2014 mentorship:

During my mentorship with Linda, I was at a couple of pivotal points in my career and was making choices that impacted my work and my personal life. Having a sounding board who was totally outside of my sphere, that had no stake in the decisions I made, was really helpful. Even after the mentorship was over and I needed some important career advice, Linda was more than happy to talk with me. On a micro-level, it was also refreshing to talk about ideas and examples for programs and projects I was working on. I find professional conferences refreshing because of the infusion of outside insight and having the monthly call with Linda was like a mini-conference.

The Shape of the Mentorship

We'll schedule hour-long 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 December 18, 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.

• Describe an object in a museum that elicited an emotional response from you.
• What key questions would you like to discuss with me during the year?
• Tell me about a creative hero of yours.
• What change would you like to see in the museum field?  
• What non-work related book are you reading?

How Do I Decide?

This is far from a scientific process (the advantage of running my own small project).  I'm interested in mentees that stimulate my own thinking and in working with those who I believe will make a contribution to the field.  If your application is primarily about finding a job, I'll be unlikely to select you.  Previous mentees have been both emerging and mid-career professionals. I've seriously considered applications from career transitioners, recent graduates and more, from anywhere in the world. Be interesting not dull; have a sense of humor, and demonstrate an interest for the field rather than just in your own career.  This year, I'd love to see applications from people who are making their way into the museum field along non-traditional routes.  I'll make a decision no later than January 7, 2016.

Questions, ask away!

Teaching/Learning: What's the Take-Away?

A few weeks ago, I wrapped up my first semester of teaching Museums and Community Engagement online for the Johns Hopkins University Museum Studies graduate program.   This experience was very much about both learning and teaching for me. In this post, I'll share a bit of what I learned about my own professional practice and excerpt some of the students' plans about deepening their practice around community engagement.  I'm sharing my lessons learned not because I think all of you, dear readers, will become online professors, but because the challenges I faced are the challenges that many museums face as we work to engage virtual visitors.

What did I learn about teaching?

First, online teaching is different than classroom teaching (no kidding, right?) and both of those are different than doing professional development workshops.  Mastering the mechanics of online learning was definitely a learning curve for me,  but equally important, and sure to be the subject of more of my experimentation, was how best to build a sense of community among 15 students, all over the world, and me, all working together.

Second, structure matters more than in an in-person process.  I found there's more give in in-person teaching--there's a chance to explain further, to see a puzzled face, to ensure that there's full understanding.  It was a lesson for me (a great lesson to always be reminded of) that we need to meet our audience (be it students or museum-goers) where they are--not where you assume them to be.

Third, levels of risk-taking vary.  In any workshop I do, I always have at least one new element as a way of challenging myself.  I changed a fairly substantive element of this course part-way through, and some students found it easy to address that challenge, others found it perhaps confusing and difficult.  Both those thoughts are equally valid, and it's my job to explain the why and the how better, to make those less comfortable with risk (a key element of creativity) more comfortable with a new process.  Giving a grade, something that never happens in professional development workshops, complicates that process of risk-taking,  but is a reality none-the-less.

Fourth,  keep building those skills. My skill as a forager of information proved to be important.  As #museumsrespondtoFerguson and other topics of discussion surfaced in the field over the last few months,  I found it important as a teacher to continually share new information.  My networking skills and social media presence made it possible to easily find five organizations to serve as case studies. A big shout out to Jakob at the Skagen Museum, Tania at the David Owsley Museum of Art at Ball State University, Megan at the Henry Ford Estate-Fairlane, Laura at the Carbon County Museum,  and Lindsey at the Laurel Historical Society.   I put out a call for volunteer organizations on this blog's Facebook page and instantly got volunteers.  These five, representing a diverse range of organizations, generously shared their time and perspective with collaborative teams of students, providing some real-world experience as they developed a community engagement plan.  Although many of the students in the program are already working in museums, this provided them with a chance to work on an issue outside their regular job duties and outside their institution.

And what did my students learn?  Because, after all, that's what really matters.  As part of their final reflection paper, I asked them to share a personal or organizational plan for continuing to deepen their understanding of community engagement.  I found so many of their thoughtful responses worth considering for myself, and wanted to share some of them here.

Here's one personal plan:

• observe
• participate
• communicate
• stay informed
• practice and evaluate

And another:

• actively researching the new resources I have been provided this semester
• sharing this information and opening up dialogue in the workspace
• networking with others in the field

Several students were quite direct about how they were going to improve the community engagement process in their own institutions.  It was exciting for me to learn how they were going to put specific tools and knowledge to work.  One wanted to strengthen her evaluation skills, so as to understand more about audiences; while several others felt more equipped to ask more challenging questions as a part of any planning process.  Said one, "During these discussions it will be important for me to have case studies and research evidence ready...in the future, after starting a dialogue with my supervisor, I we might then be able to put together a focus group of employees from different departments who would help to spread across the museum the results and positive effects of community engagement initiatives."   One action plan identified the goal, actions, resources, potential issues, and potential solutions for engagement at a complex site.  Her clear analysis made the chances of success more likely.

I loved that one student found herself sharing her observations on weekly readings, AAM talks, and other materials in staff meetings and even in carpools...and her frank thoughts on why she wasn't always successful.  As she wrote, "[community engagement] is a process that I now understand truly never ends."

In working on creativity, Rainey Tisdale and I are often sharing about simple tools that each of us can use to build organizations' shared creative muscle power.  Seeking out stimulation from a broad pool and sharing that information is critical. It was very rewarding to see how many thoughtful ways my students came up with to accomplish the tasks of seeking, sharing and spreading.

But the two biggest takeaways from my students came perhaps from a single essay:

"Now I use every chance I have to listen."

"Change is hard and scary."

Go to it, students!  And thanks to the 15 of you for such a stimulating semester of learning for all of us.

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.

Are You the Fifth?

Are you interested in professional feedback and collegial exchange of ideas?

My tremendous Take 5 colleagues Anne Ackerson, Marianne Bez, Gwen Spicer, and I are seeking a creative, independent cultural professional with broad experience and interests, who is looking to collaborate in rewarding and productive ways to join our informal group. We enjoy sharing experiences that help us gain new insights about our work and our careers. Together we produce the monthly newsletter Take 5. We meet in upstate New York three or four times a year and support each other through regular phone and email contact.  You can see more about our process here.

To apply, please answer the following questions, and include a resume and any other relevant materials you'd like us to see (websites, blogs, etc.) to Take5colleagues@gmail.com by April 1, 2015.

• What are your career aspirations?
• How do you see this group bringing renewed focus to your career?
• What skills or attributes would you bring to our group?
• If you could create a meal for us, what and where it would it be? Why?

 We look forward to hearing from you!

Celebrate Small Success but Aim Big

I had asked one of my 2014 mentees, Megan Wood, Edsel and Eleanor Ford House (above) Associate Vice President of Education & Visitor Experience, to do a wrap-up about success, failure and learning in a new job--as that was the focus of many of our year-long conversations. Here's her thoughts.

2014 was a really big year for me.

We bought a house, we sold a house.
We moved to a new state.
My husband and I left our jobs and took on new jobs.
Every one of our siblings either moved and/or had children in some combination.

In my new job, I decided to tackle a few big projects while hiring new staff, learning my responsibilities, and continuing to staff and program the site. The first project was comprehensive visitor studies that would provide us with data about our visitors’ pre-conceptions, understanding and takeaways. The second was a brand new interpretive plan to serve as a decision making tool for all programming and on site interpretation.

Being new and taking on big projects has its real benefits and drawbacks.

Benefits:

• Coming in with a fresh set of eyes and not being afraid of the outcome.
• As the “new person” your ideas can sometimes seem fresher, even if someone else has already being trying to accomplish the same task.
• There can potentially be more support of the project because there is an expectation that new people will do new things.

Drawbacks:

• Going down a path that has already been trudged and staff are weary.
• Accidentally stepping on toes or feelings.
• It can be hard to navigate project management while also learning the culture of a different institution.
• Trying to advocate for a project while still building trust can take a lot of time.
• Learning a new job is hard enough sometimes!

How’d I do?

• I would say I had 75% success on one project and about 20% success on the other.
• We’re about to get reporting on a visitor studies project. It is not the full scope of the original project, but rightly so, my boss wanted to see results before agreeing to commit more resources.
• We are still in the middle of interpretive planning. It has been an evolving process and that has both grown and shrunk over time. Do I wish I was further along? Yes. Do I think it’s actually possible to have this project almost done sitting here almost a year later? No.

What did I learn?

• I think it is ok to dream big with projects, but I think I can be more realistic in my dreaming in 2015 now that more experienced in managing projects at my new workplace.
• I will celebrate small success more and not beat myself up for what didn’t get done. Chances are, we’re still doing a lot of good.
• Continue to be ambitious and excited about the good work I want to do and bring my colleagues along with that enthusiasm. Roadblocks are not the end of the world, just the end of one path. Maybe there’s a better path to follow.

In closing, I want to thank Linda for her year of mentorship. Big years are good years to have an outside, somewhat disinterested, party to listen and give advice. It was a great help and kept things in perspective.

Abe, You and Me: Mentorship Round 3

“The best way to predict your future is to create it”
                                                  Abraham Lincoln

As regular readers of the blog know, for the past two years I've had my own informal mentor program. I started it, honestly, because of a certain dissatisfaction with the field. I wanted to make a contribution to the future on my own terms (after a round of a number of session proposal rejections) and because I don't work in a museum, there weren't opportunities to mentor colleagues on an organizational basis. I'm continually reminded that our field is facing big, thorny, complicated issues that will take all of our energy to solve.  Taking Lincoln's advice, this project is my small shot at creating that brighter future for museums. It's been an experiment all along the way--but worth continuing. So it's on to Round 3!

What do I bring to mentoring?  I'm a great questioner, wanting you to go deeper in your thinking.  I love connecting ideas and people.  I'm honest with my feedback.  And I care passionately about the museum field and the communities we live and work in.

Who Can Apply

This is open to anyone, at any stage of their career, anywhere in the world.  Sadly my language skills mean you must be an English speaker.  I'm looking for passionate, curious people--because I'm also learning during the year and your curiosity and passion make great conversations happen for both of us.

The Shape of the Mentorship

We'll schedule hour-long monthly Skype or Google hangout conversations at times convenient for us both.  In addition to the monthly conversations, I'll happily provide feedback, introductions as I can, and loads and loads of opinions.  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.

But it's not my solely my perspective that matters in this process.  Here's what the three mentees from the last two years shared with me.  As you can see, they are each very different people, so the year's conversations were different for each of them (and me).

Catherine Charlebois: I got to meet someone new, expanding in the process my horizons and having the privilege to access her experiences and sharing thoughts on museum's inner works. 

Each month I was looking forward to our meetings but never (I have to be honest here), had the time to think deeply on what our conversation should be about. I felt bad, because since I was the one who had applied for the mentorship, I should at least prepare something or know what the theme should be... And each time I was just surprised that we didn't need that much directions afterward, it was just the real and authentic pleasure of sharing thoughts, desires and dreams of what museum are and should be that guided us through our conversations and each time these filled up my tank of energy.

Megan Wood: This year of mentorship was great as I transitioned into a new job. It has been valuable to have someone outside my daily life to talk to and get advice from. While many of us have informal mentors, the structure of this pushed me to think about progress from month to month.

Alicia Akins: The opportunities to guest post, be introduced to people, have an unbiased third party take my questions seriously, and to realize that in the midst of learning I could also be learned from have bolstered my confidence and helped me think more proactively about the future.

How to Apply

If you're interested, by December 21, send me an email that includes your resume plus responses to the following questions.  No word count specified.  Say what you have to say, short or long.

• Tell me about one thing you're particularly curious about--in any part of your life
• Describe an object in a museum that elicited an emotional response from you
• What key questions would you like to discuss with me during the year?
• Share a description of your first creative act 
• What change would you like to see in the museum field?  

How do I decide?

This is far from a scientific process (the advantage of running my own small project).  I'm interested in mentees that stimulate my own thinking and that I believe will make a contribution to the field.  If your application is primarily about finding a job, I'll be unlikely to select you.  Previous mentees have been both emerging and mid-career professionals. I've seriously considered applications from career transitioners, recent graduate students and more.  Be interesting not dull; demonstrate an interest for the field rather than just your own career. I'll make a decision no later than January 5, 2015.

 Questions, ask away!

A Buyers' Guide for Museum Studies? And Two More Big Questions

Last week at the NEMA meeting, Amanda Gustin of the Vermont Historical Society facilitated a lively conversation between Cynthia Robinson, the director of the Tufts Museum Studies Program; me;  and a jam-packed room of participants,  on the Graduate School Conundrum.  Go or don't go? What kind of program?  How do I choose?  We covered lots of ground in the conversation and Amanda will be sharing the results of her informal online survey on her own blog, but I wanted to share, as many people are beginning the work on graduate school applications, the talk about a buyers' guide for museum studies programs.  It's very exciting that the public history world is embarked on such a project, but there's definitely a need for a specifically museum-focused one as well.  What would it include?

Here's the list, in no particular order, of the topics the session participants would love to see in a consumer guide to choosing a graduate program:

• Placement rate:  in museums, in full-time jobs, in other positions.  One year out, five years out and overall.  Kinds of placements: in what type of museums, in what type of positions.
• Course requirements and content
• What's the work load?
• What skills are really taught?  When was the last time the program analyzed the skills needed?
• Cost and its unfriendly associate, average amount of debt upon graduating.
• Financial aid available
• Certificate or degree; online or in person or a combination
• Evidence of faculty involvement in current museum work; ability to take courses from a range of faculty members
• What kind of networking is available?  How do current and former students make use of it?
• Diversity and gender equity among faculty and students
• Internships:  where, how often, paid or unpaid?
• What are the application criteria (i.e. should you have worked in a museum before applying?)  What kinds of career counseling is offered for incoming students, including those transitioning from other careers?

We ended up this part of the discussion talking about whose job it is to undertake such a buyers' guide.  Is it the graduate programs themselves--is there one willing to take the lead, set standards and metrics?  Is it the American Alliance of Museums?  Their newly released salary survey talks about conditions in the field--wouldn't it be useful to know more before you entered graduate school?  Who will step forward--and even more importantly, the field changes when we ask it to.  When will we start really pushing for this?

But don't forget my two big questions.  The first came before the session, over lunch with Sarah Sutton, who asked, 

Why is it, for a field that is all about free-choice and independent learning, that we have made graduate degrees a prerequisite for entry into the field?

and the second came from the session conversation,

If graduate schools are highly valued for the networks, and graduate schools, like the museum field, continue to lack diversity; doesn't using those only those networks to connect with and hire, ensure that our field continues to lack diversity?  In other words, same old, same old.

Readers, what say you?  Would a buyers guide be useful?  What should be in it?  And what other big questions do you have?

Special thanks to Amanda for putting together such a great session; and to NEMA, for such a thought-provoking overall conference.

Take 5 x 2 Years = ?

Just over two years ago,  a question from my Pickle Project co-founder Sarah Crow caused me to say "hmmm...." and pick up the phone to call Anne Ackerson (above, left to right:  me, Anne, Marianne Bez, Gwen Spicer and Christopher Clarke).  Sarah had asked if I had a personal strategic plan.  I had to admit no,  despite the fact that I do a fair amount of advising on plans;  turns out Anne, who also consults on planning,  didn't have one either.  From that first conversation,  we decided to gather a small group of freelance colleagues to begin a conversation about our work.  You can read about that first gathering in a blog post from that summer;  but two years on, I thought I might update readers on our progress.  We met, as we always do, over a meal, this time at Gwen's, to talk, chat, plan, ask for advice, and, in this case, admire the household chickens.

We've shared our process in numerous places over the last few years:  at conferences including AAM,  NEMA, and MANY;  and in countless conversations with many of you who wondered whether putting together a career posse might be right for you.  Just a year ago, we started Take 5, our collaborative monthly newsletter that provides a quick and intriguing 5 minute read every month.  We've been gratified by the response from colleagues near and far,  and pleased with the newsletter's increasing readership.  (don't receive it yet?  Signing up is easy).    Stay tuned for some additional ways in which we'll be sharing that process.

But what about our own careers? In one chapter of our new book, Rainey Tisdale and I reference a great blog post by Seth Godin.  Here's how he describes what he looks for in a co-worker or colleague:

Open to new ideas, leaning forward, exploring the edges, impatient with the status quo... In a hurry to make something worth making.
Generous when given the opportunity (or restless to find the opportunity when not). Focused on giving people dignity, respect and the chance to speak up. Aware that the single most effective way to move forward is to help others move forward as well.
and connected. Part of the community, not apart from it. Hooked into the realities and dreams of the tribe. Able and interested in not only cheering people on, but shining a light on how they can accomplish their goals.

And that's exactly how I think of my Gang of 5.  But I also asked them to reflect on what our get-togethers had meant for them.  One laughingly admitted to being pushed towards the use of technology and social media;  another successfully made the transition from one job to another;  another managed to re-frame the presentation of her work in order to generate more of the kind of work she loved.  All of us agreed that the regular meetings let us articulate our personal goals and make them actionable--and accountable in the nicest kind of way.  And all of us agreed that we'd made surprising progress on our plans.

Want to consider starting your own group?  Here's some of our advice:

• approach it with a spirit of abundance
• put together a group who know each other, but not too well
• the group should be diverse, but also have some commonalities
• always have good food, drink and time to talk about things other than work
• meet often enough, and start an online group,  to keep the momentum growing
• don't be afraid to ask hard questions
• make sure the group has (and the same people may be in these roles at different times) both doers and reflectors
• have fun!

If you've been at one of our sessions or read earlier blog entries and started your own group or thought differently about your career, we'd love to hear from you.  Tell us how you're doing in the comments below.

Got an Idea? Let's Talk

The first couple months of 2012 have been pretty quiet, with a fair amount of finishing up reports and grant-writing, both of which keep me pretty close to my messy desk.  But starting next week,  I'll be out and about much more.  So this post is an open offer--if you have a project you're interested in starting and want someone to bounce ideas off,  if you want a little career advice,  or if you want to chew over what the museum field is right now and what it might be,  below are some places and times where I'd be happy to sit down over a cup of coffee (on me, even!)  and chat.  And of course, you can always find me here.

A colleague gently nudged me last fall telling me that I wasn't very good in this blog at telling people what I actually do--and encouraged tell readers that I actually work for organizations, in addition to writing the blog.  What might I work with you on?  Projects that are about shaping compelling narratives in either an exhibition or historic site;  developing new skills;  and listening to communities through prototyping, community conversations or other activities that connect your organization with the diverse communities you work in.   I like experimentation and like working with museums and historic sites that are ready to change things up,  to try something new (and I like to have fun).

So, if you're contemplating that leap into the new and want to talk about it,  here's where you can find me in person:

February 27-28,  Indianapolis, IN, facilitating a train-the-trainer session for AASLH's StEPs program.

March 5-6,  Regina and Swift Current, Saskatchewan, facilitating a workshop on exhibit development for the Museums Association of Saskatchewan

March 8-9,  New York City—so what exhibits should I make sure to see?

March 12,  Long Island, facilitating a workshop for the Long Island Museum Association

March 16-20,  Washington, DC, for a meeting at AAM and lots of museum-going.  Again, what should I not miss?

April 22-24,  at the Museums in Conversation conference, Albany, NY doing a session on career planning with colleagues Anne Ackerson, Marianne Bez, Gwen Spicer, and Christopher Clarke

April 25-26,  Burlington, VT, for a talk with Sarah Crow about the Pickle Project at Shelburne Farms

April 28-May 2 at the AAM meeting in Minneapolis participating in a session on memorials and memorial museums and one on career planning.

May 21-22,  Middletown,  CT,  facilitating a workshop for the CT StEPs program of the Connecticut Humanities Council and the Connecticut League of Historical Organizations

Photo:  Uncle Chicken on Flickr

The List--What's on Yours?

Leslie Kesler's last guest post,  about what she learned in leaving a job,  generated a great deal of conversation.  I'm really pleased to have her return with the thoughts about what she's doing with the unexpected free time that has unfortunately become a part of many museum workers' lives.  Check out her to-do list--but more importantly, her thoughts on how that surprising list connects to her professional self. 

In my last post, I mentioned that one of my coping techniques, anticipating a layoff, was making a list of things that would be fun to do. Not necessarily trip-to-the Riviera-fun – though I certainly wouldn't turn my nose up at that – but realistic, budget-friendly, possibly skill-building fun.

Some selections from my list:

• edit a Wikipedia article
• finally make a dent in scanning all the old family photos I've been promising Mom I'd get to. Maybe start a tumblr with them. Add a few to Historypin
• start a blog.  Or, hey, maybe guest blog somewhere
• try out the new National Archives citizen archivist dashboard
• finally sit down and figure out what Google+ is all about and if I should be on it

You may be sensing a tech theme here, and if so, you'd be partially right. Playing with new technology is something I enjoy, something that gets me energized thinking about new possibilities. I'm not especially proficient at it, but I think it's fun.

But it's not all about the electronic devices.  Also on my list are:

• (re)learn how to use a sewing machine
• tackle some around-the-house projects that stretch my comfort zone with tools and handyman tasks
• try some new recipes. Bake some bread
• poke around in flea markets and thrift stores

I've noticed a couple of themes running through my list. One, of course, is a focus on skills and on producing tangible products. I suspect there's some compensation going on there and I am amused by it  even as I find it unarguably therapeutic. I picture my inner six-year-old storming around inside my head, defiantly stomping her foot at the universe and insisting that yes, I am, too, competent – despite having recently had the pins knocked out from under my professional self – because I can make things! So there.

The other theme I notice is about giving myself permission to spend time on things that I'm not very good at (yet), and that I'm certainly not going to be efficient at. In fact, I'll probably fail at some, and I'm telling myself that's OK. One of the costs of being on an ever-accelerating treadmill, at least for me, has been reluctance to try things that might not work. When every minute counts, it's hard to justify the  time to take chances. But losing track of time while totally absorbed in the process of figuring something out is one of the real joys of work, at least for me. Plus, that's often where some really good creative stuff happens.

When this blog post was still just a concept, Linda insightfully pointed out that it probably had some synergy with Jasper Visser's post here. I think that's right. I've been missing having time for play – constructive play, not goofing off – and it's something I need to recapture for myself before I find my way back onto the treadmill.

What about you? What recharges you? What would you put on your list?

List by flickr user Ben Cumming  

An Artist's Workbench by flickr user empiredude1

Learning While Leaving: Unexpected Lessons on the Way Out the Door

Late last year I invited readers to become writers--to consider writing as a guest blogger here at the Uncataloged Museum.  I was thrilled to have several people take me up on that offer--and very excited to share this post from Leslie Kesler (read more about her at the end of the post).  In this and upcoming posts Leslie provides food for thought from an important vantage point that's facing many colleagues these days.  Thanks Leslie!

On December 1, I learned that my job, historian and curator at a local history museum and historic house, was being eliminated. Like many other non-profit organizations, our museum had experienced a pattern of revenues lagging behind expenses. Faced with an unsustainable trend and a duty to ensure long-term survival, trustees determined the time had come to make deep cuts, cuts that would include eliminating more than half of staff positions.

It is hardly a unique story. I have several museum colleagues who've been through a variation on this scenario and you probably do, too. Stories others had shared, including at sites like Blue Avocado, were both helpful and comforting as I navigated through shock, grief, and confusion.

At my museum, the decision had been made to implement layoffs with a month's notice, a choice for which I am sincerely thankful. Everyone responds differently, but for me it was therapeutic to be part of wrapping up my projects. I felt that I was a still a trusted (albeit short-term) member of the team, and that what I did would make a difference, two things gave me a much-needed short term focus.

Surprisingly, wrapping things up turned out to be a learning experience. Closing down my job gave me more insight into my strengths and weaknesses than any formal performance review I've ever had. It illuminated some of the unconscious choices I'd made in doing my job and showed me their ramifications. More than once, I found myself making mental notes for the future. “Okay,” I'd mutter to myself, standing in the chaos of a half-packed office, “Next time, please remember . . . “ 

To set and stick to priorities, ruthlessly

I'd been trying to do too much and part of me knew it. But it was easy to get caught up in the moment and convince myself that everything was critical, or that taking on just this one more little thing really would make a difference. It was easy, that is, until I had only a few finite weeks of time left to spend. Then it was very clear to me which tasks were the best use of my time and which ones I should drop, without second-guessing or guilt. I began to wonder how I could train myself to maintain that kind of decisive focus over the long haul.

To cultivate better digital housekeeping habits

My system works great . . . for me. But my desire to hand projects off quickly, in apple pie order, was quickly foiled by the need to cull hundreds of old e-mails about daily project minutia, purge outdated drafts of documents, and rename folders whose contents had strayed far from their original label. I talk a good game about keeping orderly records that any team member can step in and use in an emergency. But I wasn't living up to that ideal, at least in the digital realm.

To always prioritize work on critical documents

Here's one place we got to pat ourselves on the back. I lost track of the number of briefing notes I wrote that included “consult the recently-updated collections policy for details.” I marveled at how quickly our team regrouped and set priorities, something I attribute partly to time invested in disaster planning. No, we didn't have a plan for major staff layoffs. But we did have practice at thinking through scenarios of sudden change, identifying likely impacts, and making decisions about how to mitigate them. I'm convinced it made a difference.

The true potential of the work blitz

Once we had a plan, our collections team set to work on the top priorities. Some of the things we tackled had long been on our “someday we ought to . . .” list. Without the prospect of a future someday in which to do things perfectly, we forged ahead with the best imperfect solutions we could devise. In the end, we accomplished an amazing amount, including fixing some inherited situations that we'd worked around for years. Just about every place I've ever worked has declared occasional “work days” when everyone puts aside daily tasks for an all-out effort of some sort, usually focused around cleaning. What if we declared a different kind of blitz? What if the question was what can we do together in one day, or one week, to address our top priority issues now?

The hidden costs of feeling overwhelmed

A funny thing happened on the path to my last day. I kept thinking of things that I wanted to do, or try, or read, in January. So many things, in fact, that I had to start an actual list. Quite a few were related to skills I used in my job. Many were things I'd already considered, despaired of shoe-horning into my schedule, and started feeling vaguely guilty and defensive about not managing to accomplish. Now, all of a sudden, they sounded like fun again. Suddenly and viscerally, I understood that my pattern of trying to do too much hadn't just dulled my efficiency. It had also taken the edge off my zest for experimenting and learning new things, potentially depriving me of both joy and some useful new skills.

Two weeks post-job, I'm still not sure precisely where I'm headed next. Someday, I hope to again have a job very much like the one I just left. It's what I love to do, and I'm good at it. I'll be even better next time, if I can hang onto the lessons I learned on the way out the door.

What about you? What have you learned from unexpected twists in your career? 

In her twenty years as a public historian, Leslie Kesler has worked variously as a frontline interpreter, education manager, curator, and staff historian for museums in the southeastern U.S. Most recently, she was historian and curator at a local history museum and historic house in the North Carolina town where she grew up. In addition to history and museums, she enjoys running, baking, and books, with a particular fondness for mystery novels.

Top: Creative Commons licensed photo by flickr user Maker Mama

Bottom:  Creative Commons licensed photo by flickr user greg.turner