The "Repression Machine:" Telling Albania's Story

In March, I spent a week in Tirana, Albania, at the invitation of the United States Embassy in Tirana, facilitating conversations and workshops about possibilities for a rejuvenated National History Museum.  More on that experience later, but first to discuss a bit about Albania's history and the stories that museums and archives are sharing with visitors and my learning at two historic sites and one archive.

If you're like me, you don't know much about Albania's complex and fascinating history, but the part this post focuses on is the Enver Hoxha communist regime, established after the defeat of the Nazis in 1945.  This regime was initially allied with the Soviet Union, but broke away and became unaligned, and isolated from almost everywhere. The only way I can describe it is as a paranoid state that distrusted everyone, but most of all its own citizens.  In the years since the early 1990s, Albania, like many other states, has been coming to terms with its Communist legacy.  It's not an easy task, particularly as this did not involve an invader or outside oppressor, say as in the Czech Republic, but an entirely home-grown system of repression.

I learned about this history by visiting three places doing exceptional work:  the House of Leaves, Spaç Prison, and the State Security Archives.  Each one provided food for thought for anyone thinking about ways to interpret difficult issues, in this case, the "machine of repression," as Genta Sula, head of the archives, described it.

The House of Leaves is right in the center of Tirana and only opened as a museum less than a year ago. But the House itself has been long-known to Albanians.  It's the former headquarters of the state surveillance service, sequestered behind a high wall covered with leaves.  It's now a museum devoted to helping visitors understand surveillance: who did, how they did it, why they did it, and more.  From the House of Leaves I remember how much the graphic black and white design served the story.  There were loads and loads of charts--ordinarily something I might not be attracted to--but room-sized, they actually drew you in.  The mechanics of the surveillance were fascinating--and also unsettling.  You could see how some people just saw the surveillance as a technical problem to be solved, not a human rights question. And then that began to raise some unsettling questions about the state of surveillance today in the larger world.

But most importantly for me, was the sense that, throughout the entire museum, that the exhibits were based on real, individual stories.  This was brought home to me as I entered one room that listed all the people imprisoned or killed by the regime.  An Albanian colleague with me went quiet, looked up, and said, "here's my grandfather."  Those stories, one by one, are a large part of what gave the museum its exceptional power to me. The other power came from what was unsaid:  that we think about this state-sponsored surveillance, but about how we're just starting to think about the kind of corporate surveillance that we willingly surrender to.

Some of the raw material for the content of this exhibit comes from the state security archives, newly opened after more than twenty-five years.  You can come to the archives and see your own file--some of them thousands and thousands of pages.  The total archives is more than 22 million pages.  You begin to understand the web of connections:  the government spied on you, and then convince you to spy on others--and so much information was fundamentally useless--but still used to intimidate and imprison others.  Genta Sula, the director of the Authority for the Information on Former Communist Police Secret Files (that's the archives official name) views the archives also as an activist tool.  The archives are working with artist Alketa Xhafa Mripa, who is producing "Even the Walls have Ears,"  testimonies from the archives to be projected on public buildings this spring.  If there's one thing I've learned in my year at Sites of Conscience,  it's that archives can be really powerful.  These archives are a great example of both documentation and activism.

The last site of note was not quite a museum yet--and it took me far out of Tirana.  Three staff members of Cultural Heritage without Borders, a Sites of Conscience member, took me out to visit Spaç Prison. Far up in the mountains, the prison and labor camp was established by the regime and housed a number of Albanian intellectuals and opponents of the Hoxha regime.  It's been designated as a heritage site, but sadly neglected and Cultural Heritage without Borders has taken on the effort to turn it into a site of memory and a museum.  For me, several important elements stood out here:  first, the power of place.  Although most of the way to the prison is now a paved road, it used to be a very long drive to get to this remote place.  And once here, you understand that the regime's goal of isolating you and attempting to control every aspect of your life.  "Inspirational" quotes from Hoxha are still on the walls juxtaposed with one prisoner's list of movie stars on a cell wall.

But this site also reveals the challenge of dealing with the past.  The site is owned by the government and the mine itself has been leased to a Turkish company, who is rapidly changing everything around the "red line" of the historic site, as you can see in the above photo.  The buildings at the top of the photo are all new. This region, like all of Albania, is interested in economic development--hence the mine lease.  Which will win out?  Cultural  Heritage without Borders has developed a thoughtful plan for the ongoing development of the site as a site of memory--and a place where young people can not only learn about the past and but also shape a more just future.

I found one commonality in all these experiences: virtually everyone I met, of course, had their own story of these times and their family or personal experiences.  It's the integration of these personal voices that provides the strength of these places and the involvement of those affected by the regime is critical.  Everyone noted that Albanian society has a long way to go in the complex process of reconciliation, but each of these experiences showed the power that museums, historic sites, and archives can have in moving towards that reconciliation if they are unafraid.

10 x 10: My Favorite Posts from the Last 10 Years

This week is the tenth anniversary of this blog. I couldn't have guessed ten years ago, that I would still be writing on a pretty consistent basis, nor could I have imagined all the places I would go, the experiences I would have, or the lessons I would learn (some easily, some definitely the hard way). To celebrate, I've gone back and chosen a favorite post from each year. These posts weren't necessarily the most-read, but the ones that speak to me still.

2007
My own lifelong learning and the chance to support learning through Donors Choose. On re-reading, an appreciation of my parents and of the chance to pay it forward.
Learning for a Lifetime

2008
This post, about a project for the Montgomery County Historical Society, is really about the power of listening to visitors and communities.  I still share this experience on a regular basis as it continues to resonate, particularly in these times.
The Story of La Guerra Civil or Why I Work in Museums

2009

I went to Ukraine for the first time this year, initially for four months as a Fulbright Scholar.  I blogged a lot this year--124 total posts.  Most posts were me trying to make sense of my time in Ukraine. In retrospect, I can see myself learning on the fly, even in some ways I didn't quite imagine. This year is also when my readership began to rise, as I was the museum person writing in English about museums in Ukraine and the post-Soviet world. This post, about a visit to Chernobyl, another experience that remains deeply with me.

My Day as a Disaster Tourist

2010

Upon re-reading this post, I was struck by the continuing importance of deep personal connections. One of the stories is about Crimea, more meaningful and poignant now.

What Does Meaning-Making Mean:  Two Stories

2011

Not much extra comment needed.  Not much has changed since this post except more sustained attention to the issue of gender in museums.

Want to Be a Museum Director? Evidently, Be a Man

2012

I'm lucky enough that my work takes me to all kinds of museums and I enjoy reporting back on work that surprises, intrigues and stimulates me.  Here, a Parisian museum totally took me by surprise, in the best way.

When Was the Last Time You Were Surprised at a Museum?

2013

An interview, as history was being made, with my dear friend and colleague, Ihor Poshyvailo, about museums and Maidan. It's fitting that he's now director of the new Revolution of Dignity Museum in Ukraine.

"Our History Museums will Include the Events of These Days"

2014

Over the last several years I've written often about the process of re-interpretation at the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center. In this one, we're encouraged to give up chronology in the service of more interesting interpretation.

Surrender the Chronology!

2015

Connected to #museumsrespondtoFerguson, this post reflects on the ways I view my own responsibility to work for change after attending an AAM meeting.

We Are Not Separate from Politics: AAM and Beyond

2016

Back to reporting on surprising museums--and tremendous labels.

Brilliant Labels in Dublin: Sweets, Nudes and U2

Here's hoping for another ten years of museum visiting, drinking coffee, meeting all of you, traveling, blogging and learning.

What Next? A Month of Reflection

Like millions of Americans, the last month has been a confusing one for me. I returned home from Ukraine just two days before the election, proudly voted for Hilary Clinton (I just learned that a niece of mine wore different pieces of jewelry representing her grandmothers and great-grandmothers to go vote that day, in their honor) and drove to Mystic, CT for the New England Museum Association conference. Jetlagged, I went to bed early and woke up at 4:30 AM to learn that Trump had won the election.

Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out my country and its citizens, trying to determine what I personally need to do next, wondering about museums’ place in this world, and trying to listen and read as much as I can (though I have stayed away from TV news). I don’t have any answers yet but I wanted to share some ideas that have resonated with me.  It's a long post, bear with me.

Museums Can Be Essential

First, that very first morning at NEMA, I went to a session presented by Sarah Pharaon of the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience. It seemed very much the right thing to do that morning; and in fact it was. She reminded us of the power of history and of the important way that museums can move from relevance to essential parts of communities and the larger world.

Support and Action

I made a quick trip up to the Concord Museum mid-conference for the opening meeting for the development of plans for a new permanent exhibition there. Our conversations about the American Revolution and Henry David Thoreau were all shaped by the week’s events. But I’ll remember most what one of the museum educators said over coffee. She had decided on two things: support and action. This meant financial support for Planned Parenthood, an organization she supported; and action, starting to volunteer at a local organization working with refugees. That two-part approach made a great deal of sense to me.

Serious Play

Rainey Tisdale and I facilitated a session at NEMA about museums and your whole self: not just your learning self, but your spiritual self, your playful self, your civic self; and more. We were going to use the election as a starting point for our activity but it seemed just wrong, just too much at the end of a challenging week. Instead, our lively group of participants got to think about whole self museum development within the framework of kittens (and thanks, Rainey, for convincing me to do that!) Somehow that goofy exercise lifted all our spirits. We’re all going to need to be attentive to serious play as we move forward.

Be More Attentive to My Own--and Others-- Privilege 

I’m white, I went to an Ivy League college and have a Master’s degree. I teach. I’m older than many of you readers. I’m female. I have lots of privilege. I’ve vowed to be more attentive to instances where I need to check that privilege, and to call out others on the same. This also means figuring out how to be the best ally I can. For me, that’s not a safety pin, but there are certainly other times and places, in my work and outside of work,  that I can listen, speak out, and work to make a difference.

Read More

I came across an NPR piece that suggested we all needed to expand our reading—to learn about people different than ourselves. I’ve put several books on my Goodreads list (if you want, please feel free to connect with me there) and if you’re looking, check out the New York Times 100 Notable Books of the Year and the Guardian’s pieces in which authors chose their favorite books of the year. I admired my colleagues who managed to get thoughtful blog posts up over the last month, considering the role museums may play in building a more civil, civic society. In particular, I found these useful and thoughtful:

Center for the Future of Museums, “Healing the Partisan Divide”

Rebecca Herz, Museum Questions, “How Do Museums Create a Better World?”

Paul Orselli, Exhibitricks, “Are Trump Voters Museum Goers?”
Koven Smith, “Better Ways to Win: MCN 2016 and the Presidential Election"

Talk More, Listen Even More

The next week, I attended MuseumNext, which I found in different parts, fascinating and infuriating. First, the infuriating part: I’m stunned that, as a field, we consider a groundbreaking conference one where people read prepared remarks from behind a podium, with barely time for a question or two at the end. We know that’s not not how people learn. Everyone I spoke with at breaks felt frustrated. There was a strong sense that we were talking to the choir and more than a bit of discussion that seemed to frame things in terms of us and them. Although I live in a blue state, I live in a very red part of it. I think the us and them is unproductive at best. There were speakers that inspired me, and I’ll hopefully write more soon about them.

Advice from the 20th Century

I’ve had emails and Facebook comments and condolences from colleagues all over the world. This election was a big deal to everyone and uncertainty looms large, whether it’s how Trump’s relationship to Putin will affect Ukraine, how his business dealings will affect Turkey, how his approach to the world will affect the Baltics, or almost anywhere else in the world.

A Ukrainian friend posted a link to Yale historian Timothy Snyder’s Facebook post, now appearing in other places as well. I greatly admire his book Bloodlands for its deep understanding of the history of Ukraine and its neighbors; and he continues to be an active, thoughtful commentator on Ukraine and that part of the world.

He shared 20 lessons from the 20th century. I won’t share them all (you can find them in full here) but here’s a few that particularly struck me.

• Defend an institution. Follow the courts or the media, or a court or a newspaper. Do not speak of "our institutions" unless you are making them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions don't protect themselves. They go down like dominoes unless each is defended from the beginning. 
• Be kind to our language. Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. (Don't use the internet before bed. Charge your gadgets away from your bedroom, and read.) What to read? Perhaps "The Power of the Powerless" by Václav Havel, 1984 by George Orwell, The Captive Mind by Czesław Milosz, The Rebel by Albert Camus, The Origins of Totalitarianism by Hannah Arendt, or Nothing is True and Everything is Possible by Peter Pomerantsev. 
• Stand out. Someone has to. It is easy, in words and deeds, to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. And the moment you set an example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow. 
• Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down unnecessary social barriers, and come to understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.
• Learn from others in other countries. Keep up your friendships abroad, or make new friends abroad. The present difficulties here are an element of a general trend. And no country is going to find a solution by itself. Make sure you and your family have passports. 
• Be a patriot. The incoming president is not. Set a good example of what America means for the generations to come. They will need it.

But interestingly, I found one good example for future generations coming from a member of a generation too young to even have a classification. Riding the New York City subway one day, I sat down across from a little girl with a big rolled-up sign. I asked if she had made it, and could I see it? She shyly assented, and unrolled it (she's at the head of this post). I asked if she’d been out protesting. Yes, she said, and her mom and sister nodded as well. (and the mom said it was okay to take her picture). This tiny citizen, with her big sign, lifted up everyone on that train. We smiled at her and each other, spoke to each other for a minute, and I somehow felt that perhaps, we were all in this together, in a way that mattered.

Museum people, we have work to do.

Heroes. Every. Day.

This election season in the United States has shown me, as I'm sure it has many of you, how easy it is to fray the threads of civil society.  Imagine Ukraine, a nation with a short democratic history, a just three-years-old revolution, occupied territories, and an ongoing war in the East.  Plus, the still-strong remnants of Soviet bureaucracy and a tenacious system of corruption that are a part of everyday life. For the past two weeks, I've been in Ukraine conducting an assessment of the cultural heritage sector with my colleague Vaiva Lankeliene from Lithuania for the Culture and Creativity EU-Eastern Partnership Programme.

To be sure, we've found many needs and issues in the sector in great need of reform. More importantly though, it's been great to see people that really are heroes--people who, in whatever way they can, are working to make museums and cultural heritage better. Their efforts are resulting, bit by bit, in those stronger threads that weave a stronger civil society together.

Here's what I mean:

• Two years ago, a new staffer at the Ministry of Culture discovers there is virtually no information collected about the museum sector.  Using his own car, and paying for his own gas, he travels thousands of kilometers around the country, visiting museums and building statistical information that serves as critical benchmarks for the sector.  Sadly, he's now formerly of the ministry, but the useful data lives on.
• A director of a historic house museum believes that her staff should be like family, as it is a family house.  They work together, everyone sharing responsibilities--everyone gives tours for instance, as a way of staying connected and making room for everyone to pursue their research and community engagement interests. The result is a museum that is more crowded than far larger ones.  The public feels the spirit of the place.
• The collective work of the L'viv city administration who joined together to develop the newly-opened project The Space of Synagogues (below), an important and moving first step in integrating Ukraine's Jewish history into the nation's larger historical narrative.  It provides visitors to the World Heritage city a chance to contemplate and learn about an aspect of the city's history long erased.

• The colleague who received a grant to work with museums in digitizing their collections and is meeting unexpected resistance to such a project.  Some are opposed to sharing work that, of course, belong to the public.  He persists, diligently, in convincing colleagues and pondering new ways of persuasion. Not surprisingly, he's finding that lower-level staff have significant interest in collaborating, but directors,  not so much.  I know he'll get there.
• The head of historic preservation in a city, who works to control development in the historic center, despite the willingness of investors to go above her department to get a yes, when no was the right answer already given. She works with colleagues in other historic cities to develop and share guidelines for appropriate development, when most city departments are independent actors and information is hoarded.  Like it is for most of my colleagues here, corruption is the eternal subtext. Several museum directors mentioned wanting to have a lawyer on staff, because there is so much legal maneuvering, particularly about property rights.
• The enthusiastic director of a tiny small-town museum who wishes for more opportunities for professional development.  But, he cheerfully says, I took an online course on grant-writing, wrote a grant and got it. The result:  a series of public programs, tourist guides and walking tours.
• Two young staff members at a contemporary art center talk about their role as building up confidence and motivation among not just their staff members, but the community as well. They connect closely the ideas of public and personal responsibility in the realms of art and life.   Said one, the result of the 2014 Revolution was that people now understood: "No one will fix our problems.  We have no illusions left.  We just have to move our ass."

That last statement, and all my experiences this trip, have reinforced Margaret Mead's belief,

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has. 

Changing the world one day, one step at a time.  Heroes.  Every. Day.

From the new memorial in L'viv

Heroes. Every. Day.

This election season in the United States has shown me, as I'm sure it has many of you, how easy it is to fray the threads of civil society.  Imagine Ukraine, a nation with a short democratic history, a just three-years-old revolution, occupied territories, and an ongoing war in the East.  Plus, the still-strong remnants of Soviet bureaucracy and a tenacious system of corruption that are a part of everyday life. For the past two weeks, I've been in Ukraine conducting an assessment of the cultural heritage sector with my colleague Vaiva Lankeliene from Lithuania for the Culture and Creativity EU-Eastern Partnership Programme.

To be sure, we've found many needs and issues in the sector in great need of reform. More importantly though, it's been great to see people that really are heroes--people who, in whatever way they can, are working to make museums and cultural heritage better. Their efforts are resulting, bit by bit, in those stronger threads that weave a stronger civil society together.

Here's what I mean:

• Two years ago, a new staffer at the Ministry of Culture discovers there is virtually no information collected about the museum sector.  Using his own car, and paying for his own gas, he travels thousands of kilometers around the country, visiting museums and building statistical information that serves as critical benchmarks for the sector.  Sadly, he's now formerly of the ministry, but the useful data lives on.
• A director of a historic house museum believes that her staff should be like family, as it is a family house.  They work together, everyone sharing responsibilities--everyone gives tours for instance, as a way of staying connected and making room for everyone to pursue their research and community engagement interests. The result is a museum that is more crowded than far larger ones.  The public feels the spirit of the place.
• The collective work of the L'viv city administration who joined together to develop the newly-opened project The Space of Synagogues (below), an important and moving first step in integrating Ukraine's Jewish history into the nation's larger historical narrative.  It provides visitors to the World Heritage city a chance to contemplate and learn about an aspect of the city's history long erased.

• The colleague who received a grant to work with museums in digitizing their collections and is meeting unexpected resistance such a project.  Some are opposed to sharing work that, of course, belong to the public.  He persists, diligently, in convincing colleagues and pondering new ways of persuasion. Not surprisingly, he's finding that lower-level staff have significant interest in collaborating, but directors,  not so much.  I know he'll get there.
• The head of historic preservation in a city, who works to control development in the historic center, despite the willingness of investors to go above her department to get a yes, when no was the right answer already given. She works with colleagues in other historic cities to develop and share guidelines for appropriate development, when most city departments are independent actors and information is hoarded.  Like it is for most of my colleagues here, corruption is the eternal subtext. Several museum directors mentioned wanting to have a lawyer on staff, because there is so much legal maneuvering, particularly about property rights.
• The enthusiastic director of a tiny small-town museum who wishes for more opportunities for professional development.  But, he cheerfully says, I took an online course on grant-writing, wrote a grant and got it. The result:  a series of public programs, tourist guides and walking tours.
• Two young staff members at a contemporary art center talk about their role as building up confidence and motivation among not just their staff members, but the community as well. They connect closely the ideas of public and personal responsibility in the realms of art and life.   Said one, the result of the 2014 Revolution was that people now understood: "No one will fix our problems.  We have no illusions left.  We just have to move our ass."

That last statement, and all my experiences this trip, have reinforced Margaret Mead's belief,

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has. 

Changing the world one day, one step at a time.  Heroes.  Every. Day.

From the new memorial in L'viv

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. 

Team Detective: What's Your Team's Spirit?

I'm an avid mystery reader, which I always thought of as leisure, unconnected to work.  But I've been thinking that there is a connection.  Part of any consultant's job is to go into a place and size up the situation quickly.  I'm not looking for footprints or the dog that didn't bark in the night, but I am looking for how a team works together.  I want to find the spirit of an organization as it looks to change in some way.  The changes might be big or small, but my work is almost always with organizations where change is in the wind--and change never happens with one person, it always happens with a team.

There's a great deal of research about teams:  you need introverts and extroverts,  you need leaders, it should be non-hierarchal and on and on.  Every team is different but here's my outsider's view on what helps a team move towards change.

Experimentation

As a consultant, I don't believe that I come with the answers.  I come with questions and the idea that together, we will puzzle out answers.  One way that happens is through experimentation.  Above, Matt Montgomery, Chief Marketing Officer at the Trustees,  becomes a docent as he leads us through a prototype of an Aeolian harp activity at the Old Manse in Concord.  And below,  Girl Scouts tag what matters to them at Juliette Gordon Low's Birthplace (she's the founder of Girl Scouts) in Savannah.  Experimentation accomplishes several things.  It builds team confidence together (and good humor) and it jump-starts a learning process.

Cast a wide net in your experimental process.  The tags are an inspiration from your friendly Museum Anarchist, and I'm definitely stealing Jeanne Vergeront's idea of a designated reader to share with colleagues.

Visitor and Community Centered

The strongest teams understand that interpretive change is not about protecting your turf.  They understand that museums and historic sites exist for community benefit.  Strong teams have a desire to understand their visitors and their communities.  They have empathy for different perspectives and are interested in learning what visitors have to say.  Last week at the Juliette Gordon Low Birthplace we asked scouts what they wanted to see or do, before their experience began.  "Be inspired!"  said several.  What a tremendous challenge those girls have set for us.

Trust and Fear

Below, staff from the Trustees trust that Matt and his group will not lead them astray in a prototype experience, as they are asked to close their eyes and listen.  Trust isn't always this literal, but change is scary, no question and the more teams can build trust together, the better.  At a mid-point in the interpretive planning process at the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center, we began one meeting by talking about our fears for the project. There were many as the change is big. They ranged from lack of funding to timeline to what would current visitors thinking.  Talking about all those fears somehow made them better.  The team had enough trust in each other to share them, and sharing didn't make them go away, but I think it did make them feel less of a burden and we've continued to be attentive to them as interpretive planning moved forward. 

Everybody has a Voice and Everybody Listens

Last week, sitting in Lisa Junkin Lopez's sunlit office in Savannah, I worked with a team who, I think, felt all their voices mattered.  Ideas tumbled out, they built upon one another.  On my second day there, I was stopped in the hall by the head of maintenance, who had been off the day before. She'd read this blog and we had a great conversation about sounds, listening and meaning-making. Ideas come from everywhere, so it's important to create an environment where everyone feels that their contribution can build something stronger.  

This also means understanding differences of all types on a team, and listening to and respecting those differences.

But What About Dysfunctional Teams?

I'd love to say that every client is a dream team, but unfortunately not. Here's a couple things I've observed that will slow down your team's ability to cope with change.

• Body language:  arms crossed, eye rolling, unwillingness to participate in small group activities.  We all should know better.
• "We already do that, we've already done that, that will never work."  No need to say more.  That never moves anything forward.
• Unclear decision-making process.  That's frustrating for everyone, and that's a place where a leader needs to lead.
• Perfectionism.  It sounds trite, but perfect is the enemy of good.  We work in places with so many variables, including our many visitors.  We need to do our best, but honestly, we cannot perfect visitor experiences for every visitor because every visitor brings so much to the visit.

How's your team culture?  (and, in a brief commercial, if you want to talk interpretive change at your organization, be in touch!)

Listen Up! Part Two

I've been doing lots of listening lately. Dave Lewis' guest post last week had me thinking about the sound of museum missions, and this week's work with the Juliette Gordon Low Birthplace reminded me of the power of voices in this case, Girl Scout visitors sharing their desire to be inspired (and bringing back my own memories as they sang "keep new friends....")

When I think and talk about community engagement, there are a few inspiring projects I share on a regular basis -- and as it happens, one of them is about sound as well. Kelly Armor of the Erie Art Museum just updated me on the museum's Old Songs, New Opportunities project. The goal of the project is to help refugee women gain employment in childcare and to help them preserve their traditional cultures. The museum, in partnership with other local organizations, deeply understands that everyone in a community is an asset and has something to contribute. In this case, by sharing their traditional songs and culture. It's a great, joyful, meaningful project that holds so many lessons for museums of all sorts about the ways we can build bridges together with the community. The project is currently embarked on a campaign to produce a CD about the songs. Learn more (and support it) here.

And as I watched the Old Songs, New Opportunities video, I found myself re-watching this piece by journalist Christopher Livesay, about the community of Riace in southern Italy. It's a tiny community that sees refugees and migrants as community assets, a way to help rebuild a rural community. The sounds here are many--those of many languages, those of new Italian speakers, and the sounds that make up any thriving rural community.

But it's not just about the sounds, it's about the listening. At one point, the mayor says, showing off a woman's needlework, "Everyone says migrants bring nothing but trouble, but look what beautiful things she brings." It's not easy of course: there's government support and not enough jobs, but there is a sense that this community is building a new future together, in the same way that the Old Songs project is as well.

The first step of that re-shifting of our museums' focus from what we have to give, to what we can make together, is becoming deep listeners and observers--and that always involves getting outside of your museum doors.

Image: Old Songs, New Opportunities graduates at the Erie Art Museum

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?

Reflections: Moving Forward

We rarely take time to deeply reflect on our own museum experiences.  In this post, 2015 mentee Susan Fohr of the Textile Museum of Canada shares the impact of an exhibition in Western Canada. Her reflections are a great reminder of both the importance of regularly immersing ourselves as visitors and equally, the challenge of evaluating the meaningful experiences of our visitors.  After all, if Susan had not written this post, how would the Art Gallery she visited know of the deep impact the show made?

The longer I work as a museum professional, the less time I seem to dedicate to being a museum visitor.

As a museum educator engrossed in thinking about interpretation and pedagogy, I find that too often I spend my time at other institutions employing my critical eye, trying to understand the motivation for certain interpretive choices rather than enjoying an exhibition in its own right. As museum professionals, visiting other museums and questioning other institution's practices is an important part of our professional development; however, it can be refreshing to visit an exhibition and enjoy it in its own right and be open to the unexpected conversations to which it invites you to participate. These can often be the experiences that resonate with us the longest, as happened to me this past spring.

In April, I traveled to Regina to participate in the Canadian Art Gallery Educators annual symposium. The symposium was hosted by the Mackenzie Art Gallery to take advantage of opportunities to discuss Indigenous representation and engagement, a conversation that the gallery was cultivating through its current project Moving Forward, Never Forgetting.

"Moving Forward, Never Forgetting creates a space for intercultural dialogue and storytelling. The exhibition and related events encourage sharing, empathy, and deeper understanding of what it means for Indigenous and non-Indigenous to co-reside in these territories.... Presenting the personal expression of Indigenous artists alongside collaborations with non-Indigenous friends who share this territory, the exhibition addresses our complex histories in a spirit of creative conciliation. In addition, Moving Forward, Never Forgetting offers a gathering place where people of different backgrounds can meet to gain a better understanding of each other through art-making and conversation."

Having already heard much about the exhibition and its related programming from a colleague at the Mackenzie Art Gallery, I had already had a sense that this exhibition could be challenging and transformative.  I felt it was important to experience the exhibition on my own before we began our conversations as part of the symposium, ensuring a personal rather than an intellectual response to the works of art. The first day of the symposium concluded with an invitation to attend a performance of music and spoken word by Métis artists, but first I decided to spend some time in the exhibition, which was located on the same floor of the museum as the performance. Although rounds of applause could be heard from the adjacent gallery and there was additional traffic in the exhibition due to the special event, I did feel that I had the time and space to contemplate each work of art while also feeling like I was participating in a larger project of building dialogue and community.

I began my exploration of the exhibition in a large open gallery with a high ceiling; many of the artworks shared this same open space, whether they were hanging from the ceiling, arranged on the floor or more traditionally displayed on the wall. Smaller rooms were carved out of this larger space to house specific artworks. Three adjacent more narrow galleries housed additionally works of art. One of these galleries offered space for visitors to process and reflect what they had already experienced in the exhibition; tea and cookies were available, as well as books and catalogues for further research. Story keepers, a new position created by the art gallery, were present to assist visitors in learning about the stories behind the art works, and to collect stories from visitors. This was also a programming space during many of the participatory programs that were an important part of the project. The artworks that resonated with me the most reflect the range of approaches and voices that were included in the project. Illuminatis/Inabe (2013) by JaimieIsaac consisted of a series of light boxes of archival photographs from a residential school attended by the artist's relatives. One image featured a group of Catholic nuns accompanied by First Nations children holding knitting needles. This work forced me to acknowledge the role in which positive forces within my own life – my faith tradition and a hobby I practice to unwind – have been used as a tool of assimilation and destruction.

The dimly lit room that featured Adrian Stimson’s Sick and Tired (2004) was a space that was difficult to remain in when one learned that the metal bed frame and windows that made up the installation came from a residential school; this piece  brought to mind stories of residential school abuse from the news (in particular through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission) and contemporary Canadian literature. These works were an important acknowledgement of the difficult history of the country of which I am proud to be a citizen, a history very different from my own experience of what it means to live in this place.Other works moved me in other ways. Leah Decter and Jaimie Isaac's official denial (trade value in progress, 2010) invites visitors to comment on two statements made by former prime minister Stephen Harper. In June of 2008, he issued an official “Statement of apology to former students of Indian Residential Schools;” the following year, he stated in a speech at the G20  that Canada has "no history of Colonialism.” These comments are then stitched onto Hudson's Bay blankets at a series of Sewing Actions, a means of empowerment which resonated with my own personal interests in textiles.  

In Skeena Reece’s video Touch Me (2013), an Aboriginal woman (the artist), bathes a non-Aboriginal woman (another artist whose work is featured in the exhibition). The intimacy and emotion displayed by the two women was deeply moving, and exemplified that message of conciliation that was a key message of the exhibition. The use of the word conciliation rather than reconciliation is an important distinction.  As co-curator David Garneau writes elsewhere, conciliation is motivated by a desire to bring into harmony while acknowledging  and living with irreconcilable histories.

The opportunity to tour the exhibition with David Garneau and co-curator Michelle LaVallee, the conversations about the exhibition with colleagues at the conference and further reading I have done since the conference on Indigenous history and experience in Canada have contributed to the deeper impact that this exhibition has had on me. However, I do think the personal connections I made to art in the exhibition provided the key motivation for exploring the ideas presented by the exhibition in greater depth. I am still unpacking the implications of this experience on my identity as both a Canadian citizen and a museum educator, but I am excited to see how my investigations unfold over time.

Top photo credit:  Don Hall

Ally & Amplify

Fall, rather than spring, is the time I think about new approaches, new projects and new learning.  I returned home from the AASLH Annual Conference a couple weeks ago with two thoughts on my mind:  how to be an ally and how to amplify more diverse perspectives in our work and in our field.   I know that most of my readers (according to Facebook) can be placed in the emerging professional category.  But this most is really for those of you who are not in that category:  you're in a senior position, or you're a consultant, or you teach, for instance.  (for you EMPs,  get this in front of those people in your work life).

The AASLH conference had lots of important components to me--it gave me a chance to see old friends, to catch up with one mentee, to learn from others, but importantly, to question our approach and our practice.  I'm on AASLH's Leadership and Nominating Committee and over the last year we've had lots of conversations about diversity and inclusiveness in our process and are reworking how we think about AASLH's leaders.  As a result of those conversations, AASLH Council Chair Julia Rose asked me to facilitate a conversation about diversity and AASLH.  The time and place made it into the onsite conference program but we were unexpectedly thrilled to have dozens of people show up to share their perspective on the topic (and even if the word diversity is what we should be talking about rather than a different term).  Participants observed that (I'm paraphrasing) "Diversity is reality. It exists and cannot be changed.  To be inclusive is the choice, the action we can take to value and accept diversity. We can consciously broaden the scope of who we include."

When I thought about that lively, passionate, conversation, I then had to think about what I, personally, can do.   Those actions can fall into two categories:  ally and amplify.  Here's some of what I'm thinking and doing.  

Ally

• As an ally, I occupy a position of privilege on many levels in the museum field and in life.  I can listen and help make space for deep conversations and action,  whether it's about racism, pay equity, gender or a whole range of other issues affecting our field and our communities.
• To that end, I'm very pleased to be joining Aleia Brown in facilitating a conversation at the upcoming New England Museum Association conference November 4-6 in Portland, Maine. We hope that #MuseumsrepondtoFerguson: Bringing Race Into the Foreground continues to open up conversations--and more importantly--action, about the ways in which museums can address issues of race, no matter where in the country they are located.
• I'll also be continuing my own small mentor program as a way of creating connections and conversations.  Stay tuned for a full announcement in November.  For me, this project, now in its third year, has greatly broadened my own horizons and perspectives.
• This year I've been in a couple situations, both professional and random on the street, where someone said something racist.  In one, I spoke up, in the other, I didn't.  I'll try and speak up every time. (Interestingly, it was the professional one where I spoke up)
• In my role as an AASLH nominating committee member, I'll ally with others who care about a changing professional organization.
• I'll broaden my information intake (suggestions welcomed!)

Amplify

• This blog and other social media give me great platforms, thanks to all of you readers.  I'll continue to share observations, questions and my own learning.  I welcome guest bloggers, so if you have an idea, please be in touch.
• I'll also do my best to amplify and share the voices of  the growing range of thoughtful diverse museum bloggers raising important questions about our practice.
• When asked to speak or serve on a panel, I'll try to ensure that a diverse range of voices are always included that it's not just, as has been referenced, "a sea of white women," or even more unrepresentative in our field, the line-up of white men.
• I can encourage museum leaders at institutions where I work to listen to all sorts of voices--from differing communities and from the staff.  Every institution can design new ways to listen.
• AASLH has shared a set of aspirations for its work and they include one on diversity and inclusion.  I'll be commenting and encourage you to do the same. 
• When I work with students, I can make sure that they gain an understanding of key issues in the field and by amplifying diverse voices, create new allies and partnerships.

But why is this post for more senior professionals?  Because all of us need to do better.  We need to listen more and to demand more.  Our perspectives and knowledge are valued, but they are far from the only ones.  What will you do to ally and amplify?