Building a Learning Culture: Food Included

A few weeks ago, I spent two days working with board and staff at the American Swedish Institute (ASI) in Minneapolis, MN.  Since that visit,  I've been deep in learning about my own new job, but I find myself thinking about those days and about how collaborative learning cultures are built. I first visited ASI this summer, when I keynoted the Association of Midwest Museums conference. I was unexpectedly impressed (truth be told) with a place I pictured as a sleepy place with folk dancing and woodworking.  But I found a museum that was humming with invention. At a reception there, an ASI board member spoke about how the museum had shifted its mission as the community around it changed: now the museum was not just about the Swedish experience, but about the immigrant experience (particularly the Somali and Hmong communities) for many, past and present; through the lens of Sweden and the other Nordic countries.  As a result, I was thrilled when Bruce Karstadt, President & CEO, asked me back to talk creative practice in the context of strategic and interpretive planning.

What made ASI a learning organization?

Some of a culture of learning comes in an organization's DNA. It's hard to identify exactly where it comes from and hard to see from the outside (that's ASI on a gray January day, above).  For the board meeting, I shared a reading list before coming. It wasn't focused on strategic planning as a task, but readings that touched on the values of ASI: stewardship, hospitality, learning, innovation and sustainability and the museum's key themes of culture, migration, the environment and the arts. We know that our creativity is enhanced when we take in a broad range of information.  On the list were articles, Ted talks and podcasts, ranging from Theaster Gates' Ted Talk “How to Revive a Neighborhood with Imagination, Beauty and Art," the New York Times series on welcoming Syrian immigrants to Canada, Dr. Fari Nzinga's “Public Trust and Art Museums,” on The Incluseum Blog and a tech article on why Sweden is a great place for innovation. It was a broad list and I was surprised that everyone at the meeting had done the readings and were anxious to dive into conversation about the relevance to the museum.  Boards bring a wealth of experiences to their board service and finding time for them to think big picture is one of the most important things a leader can do.  Bruce Karstadt encouraged that conversation which I'm sure will bear fruit as the planning continues.  

Lesson 1:  Good ideas come from everywhere. Cast a wide net in your information sources and share.

The next day, the staff convened for a day and a half of thinking and planning. ASI is large enough that not all the staff know each other well, so the chance to learn more about each other was an important part of this process. Everyone, including senior staff, put aside time to participate in the process.

Lesson 2:  Make time to think together.  Every time there's a conversation about community engagement, people ask where they should start. My answer is always the same.  Get out there:  go to different, new places in your community.  Meet people, talk, listen, learn, repeat.  We divided up into groups and headed over to Midtown Global Market, walking distance away, with food, crafts and more from vendors serving food from their home countries, hipster foodies, and more.  The groups' assignment was simple:  observe everything you could about how a market experience could help shape a new interpretive experience in the museum's historic Turnblad Mansion.  And of course, we all needed to eat--so we each went armed with $10 to get a great lunch.

Lesson 3: Get out there and listen. What did we learn at the Market? One, the way different stall owners introduced new information to us about food. They were interpreters, in the museum sense of the word, but so friendly and always starting where we were, not where they thought we should be. We found one restaurant that gave you a discount if you did a Bollywood move or two--and even provided the instructions. We realized that the audience for the museum and the users of the market had very little intersection. How could that be changed?  The museum already has some collaborations underway with different communities--but this visit gave the team ideas about new collaborations and how to deepen other partnerships.

Lesson 4: Lead by doing. That's Bruce Karstadt, ASI President and CEO, at left, with other staff members in the photo above. Leaders who don't participate send the message that others don't need to either. Bruce, Peggy Korsmo-Kennan and other senior staff were enthusiastic participants for all the time I was there. It makes an enormous difference when your staff knows that your leadership believes in what's happening--and wants to hear from all of you.

Lesson 5: Have fun. After our market visits, the groups were tasked with coming up with new interpretive experiences in the house. Those were serious experiences, but we had a great time planning and sharing them.

Lesson 6:  Communicate, communicate, communicate.  The time spent together built new understandings of the staff dynamics. At the end of the visit, the entire team dedicated some time to talking about how to streamline communication (those long email chains?  everyone everywhere hates them) and how to design ways for creative ideas to thrive throughout the whole museum.  

The museum also had 2 elements already established that you might consider adopting at your organization:  first, the annual Elsie Pederson (I think I have her name right) Day, named after a dedicated, tidy volunteer. The day is devoted, once a year, to cleaning up and refreshing staff offices. It's that time to get rid of those old brochures, the flip chart notes, the whatever.  The second is a regularly scheduled staff fika, drawing on the Swedish tradition of a coffee break, with baked goods, to take time out of a busy day and connect.

One brief side note:  I was moved by their current exhibit, "Where the Children Sleep - Photographs by Magnus Wennman,"  memories of which returned to me when I watched the Oscar-nominated short documentary, 4.1 Miles, about a Greek coast guard captain  going out, every day, to save thousands of refugees at sea.  Look at the photos; watch the documentary.

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.

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!

Do You Age-Stereotype? A Small Rant

I've been in several conversations lately that really have me thinking about age stereotypes. Is it true that all those baby boomers still hanging on in those director's jobs are just doing nothing--just coasting towards retirement?  Are those Millenials just slackers who don't know how to work and are constantly just tweeting?  And what about those who fall in between those two generations--how do we characterize them?

I understand why these categories exist--it gives us a quick shorthand to understand our audiences or our colleagues.  But I've come to think they're not particularly useful--and in fact, may be particularly destructive in our efforts to work together.  Nina Simon's recent post about her museum's work in social bridging--bringing groups and people together--is something that we can all learn from.  And we might want to start that social bridging--that creative collaboration-- inside our own organizations.

Perhaps it's because I've spent my career either in small museums (where, as a young professional,  an ability to work with different generations wasn't ever optional) or as an independent professional, where coasting certainly isn't an option.

Do I know old fogeys of my own generation that are coasting towards retirement?  Absolutely.  Do I know young fogeys who are hiding in the basement coasting towards a fifty years from now retirement?  Yes, sad to say.  But at the same time, I know colleagues older than I am who are pushing towards new ideas and understandings and young colleagues who are elbowing their way into the field with new ideas in hand.  My own career has been enriched at every end of the spectrum--from senior citizen board members in my first director's job to my young colleagues in Ukraine who push museums forward despite some pretty serious hurdles.

So stop complaining about generations and get looking around.  Find the creative people in your organization or in your community and begin working with them--no matter what age.  Get going!

Who Wants a Mentor for the New Year?

I'm convinced that career paths are a mix of luck and intentionality--and as my friend Christopher reminded me the other day,  it's sometimes hard to sort out the two.  For me 2012 has reflected that same mix: ongoing planning with my great Take 5 colleagues, an intentional partnership initiated by Rainey Tisdale for our new book, and some freelance luck that has led me to both incredible places (Newfoundland and Europe) and some great new colleagues.

But in the spirit of holiday abundance, I wanted to spread a little of that luck and intentionality around to you, dear colleagues.  I've been lucky (or intentional?) enough to have some tremendous mentors over the years, from a board president who taught me the meaning of patience and negotiation;  a board treasurer who showed me how to think about financial statements as narratives;   folklorists who helped me understand the deeper meanings and values of communities;  an entire range of colleagues in Ukraine who made it possible for me to understand that complicated place; my own visual family, Drew and Anna,  who always encourage me to look closer and so many more.

Every career path is unique,  but I do think I've learned some lessons over the years that I could share one-on-one with colleagues.  So here's the deal:  I'll be choosing one person to work with as a mentor in 2013.  We'll set out a plan for the year, meet monthly via Skype,  and explore where you want to go in your career and how you might get there.  I'll make introductions as I can,  recommend resources, and provide a listening ear for those thorny work problems.  This is open to anyone at any stage in their career:  you can be a student, an emerging professional, or a mid-career staffer trying to figure out what's next.  And of course, in this ever-more global world, you can be anywhere in the world.  The only thing I ask in return is that, over the course of 2013,  you write three blog posts for the Uncataloged Museum.

If you think this could be a useful process for you,  here's what you need to do.  By January 4,  send me an email with following:

• Your current position and a brief description of how you got there
• A memorable, outside of classroom, learning experience at any point in your life
• Two or three key questions you'd like to address during the year and how you think I might be helpful
• Brief responses to these few questions below from Twyla Tharp's Creativity Inventory:

• What is the first creative moment you remember?
• When you work, do you love the process or the result?
• At what moments do you feel your reach exceeds your grasp?
• What is your ideal creative activity?  

Questions?  Of course, be in touch!

Image:  Set design for Holiday (act 2). Philip Barry. ca. 1940. Peggy Clark Collection. Music Division, Library of Congress.
 

Banish the Boring

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I'm just heading back from the American Association for State and Local History conference in Salt Lake City where I facilitated a session called Banish the Boring,  with the hope of getting my museum and history colleagues to think more deeply about the ways they do presentations (particularly at conferences) and be more experimental in our approach.  We know our museum audiences don't learn most effectively when faced with a dark room and dense powerpoint slides.  But it still mystifies me that we persist in making many (far too many!) conference sessions work this way.   So I thought I would start this 8:30 AM session with voting as you walked in the door--you got asked to vote for three top questions and then small groups worked to find new ideas for those top three that can help solve these common issues.  Here'sthe real-time solutions participants suggested. Special thanks for Alice Parman for not only notetaking but also typing up and sending me the notes--a really luxury as a session follow-up!   I think these provide great guides for rethinking sessions--but the larger question is how we can rethink the overall conference experience to enhance learning and connections. But that's the subject of another post!  If you have suggestions on the specifics or on the overall conference experience, please share in the comments.

Am I afraid of using humor in a professional presentation? 

• Establish your authenticity—then be as funny/real as you want. Authenticity relates to your own comfort level.

• Use video clips, etc.

• Use drama

• If a joke falls flat, acknowledge it. Just keep moving forward.

• Arrange with a friend to help you out in case it falls flat.

• Humor should be relevant to your topic.

How do I tactfully cut off someone who is taking over the session?

• Engage a person who’s not talking: “We haven’t heard from you yet.”

• Parking lot technique: after the session we’ll go into more detail.

• Subtly cue a fellow panelist that it’s time to wrap up

• Universalize—summarize

• Let’s meet afterward

• If you’re passing a mike around, hold onto it yourself

• Ringer(s) in audience to intervene

• Come with prepared questions to move things in a different direction

• Move around. Get closer to the person. Physical intimidation. Do what a Rotary president does when a speaker goes on too long.

How can I start a session with a bang?

• Use question or metaphor

• Pictures of things that look similar but are different

• Tell a personally engaging story

• Talk about something you did that fell on its face

• Ask audience members to reflect, write

• Give them a question, they write the answer; same question/written answer at end of presentation, have they changed perspective?

• Setting the stage

• Move people around

• Begin with anecdote, technology, video

• This is an open meeting, you’re in charge of the agenda

• Play music really loud (Nina Simon)

• Hire a high school marching band

How do I make my session description sound interesting, but accurate?

• Know your audience

• Be as accurate and specific as possible

• Fun things, active verbs

• Key buzzwords, but not too many

• Catchy title that refers to topic—alliteration, humor

• Write creatively to awaken interest by connecting to readers’ needs

• Session descriptions as little narratives/stories. See Ira Glass, What makes a good story? on YouTube

How can I develop small group activities that get to the point of the session?

• Copy what Linda did in this session

• Ask questions, group provides the answers

• Group builds something, solves a problem

• Engage people in something related to the topic

• Goal of activity must be established first

• Find out what people want to know

• Written instructions

• Talk to people like it’s a group of friends

• Speaker bingo: head shots of presenters, if you hear or meet 4 you get bingo, then you are entered in a drawing. Two-line bios of presenters on other side of bingo card.  (Comment: don’t read bios to the audience—especially if those bios are already in the program!)

I'm California bound--and you can join in!

Next week, I'm very pleased to be headed to San Diego's Balboa Park to be a member of a session on employee engagement at the 2012 Smith Leadership Symposium, Organizational Innovation and the Engagement Equation,  of the Balboa Park Cultural Partnership on Friday, September 6.  A tremendous line-up of speakers, headed by Chip Conley, frequent Ted Talk speaker and hotelier;  Marianna Adams of Audience Focus, Inc; Richard Evans, who directs EmcArts' programs and strategic partnerships;  and Lori Fogarty, director and CEO of the Oakland Museum,  (and me!) will work with participants to  consider questions such as:

• How do we leverage the creativity we focus on into the way we work?
• What does engagement really mean?
• How can our workspaces encourage creative work?
• What can thoughtful metrics tell us about the synergy we seek to create?   And what do those metrics say about your organizational culture?
• How are different generations approaching workplace culture and how can a culture accommodate those differences.

There will also be case studies on organizational change,  and I know there will be lots of thoughtful conversation along the way.  But if you can't make it to San Diego--you can still participate online.  In fact,  online participants get a special session, facilitated by The Center for the Future of Museum's Elizabeth Merritt,  to bring ideas  home from the morning sessions.    I'll be blogging after the fact, and trying to squeeze in a few tweets on Friday as well.

I've watched the Balboa Park Cultural Partnership from afar for a while, and it'll be great to get a chance to see their museums and other cultural organizations close up,  and enjoy the work of a thoughtful, passionate collaborative.

To register for the symposium,  online or in person,  or for more information, visit their website here. 
And as always,  if you want to join me for a cup of coffee or a drink, in either San Diego or Los Angeles,  be in touch!

Can We Get 45 Minutes of Fame?

Last week, I wrote about AAM's work in crowd-sourcing sessions for the 2013 conference.  This week, Rainey Tisdale and I, who are are working on a book about museums and creative practice (more news on that very soon) jumped into another association's crowd-sourcing idea. The New England Museum Association is running a 45 Minutes of Fame Contest for a speaking slot at their annual conference coming up this fall in Burlington,Vermont. Our entry is above, sharing some of the places and things that inspire us to think about museums in different ways. So please, watch the video, feel inspired, and like us on YouTube. If you've got a great creative inspiration to share--please comment away!

Make Sessions Better!

For next year's American Association of Museums Annual Meeting in Baltimore, AAM has embarked on an innovative process of session development.  If you haven't taken a look yet,  head on over and do so.  Until August 24,  session proposals are open for comment by colleagues.  Some sessions seem fully developed, others are looking for presenters, and still others seem very much in t the idea stage.  This gives you a great chance to comment on how proposals could be stronger,  on approaches you find useful (or not so much), and if you're thinking of attending the conference, a chance to share your own expertise.

I'm involved in several proposals and we'd love your feedback on all of them.   Rainey Tisdale and I, as part of our Museums & Creative practice project have two on the docket.  First, we're proposing a session in which we share our own learning in this process. As our proposal, Building a Creative Culture at Your Museum says,  "We’ve sought input from colleagues across the field at every step of this project, so it seems appropriate to spend some time at the AAM conference sharing the final results with you.  During this session, we’ll start by outlining the most critical things we’ve learned about museums and creativity. Then we’ll run through the most important first steps participants can take as soon as they return home to start building a creative culture at their museum."

But we also want to take our creative ideas a bit further.  In You’ve Just Won a Museum Workspace Makeover! we're going to take ideas about creative spaces and put them to work redoing those museum offices.  You'll be able to submit your own office space for the participants to rethink,  and everyone will gain tips on how to make your workplace (in the basement, the historic house kitchen, or a cubicle) into a place where good ideas flourish.

My colleagues Tricia Edwards of the Lemelson Center for Innovation and Invention at the National Museum of American History and Eugene Chervony,  this year a Fulbright Scholar at George Washington University and I have developed a session that looks at the ways in which ideas and museum practice can be adapted cross-culturally, based on our very different experiences in Ukraine.

And finally,  Greg Steven and I hope to return, joined by Anne Ackerson of Leading by Design,  for a fast-paced session, Strategize Me,  on assessing and developing your own career path.  Last year's session was standing room only with great audience participation--we promise fun and fast-paced.

So head on over to the AAM website (whether or not you plan on attending the conference) and share your feedback.  How can we make our sessions more meaningful and useful to you?  I'm intrigued by a wide range of sessions--Unintentional Lessons from Visitor Surveys; Grow or Die:  Is Expansion the Best (or only) Strategy;  Making the Case for Bricks and Mortar Museums in a Digital Age; and Cats and Dogs Living Together.  Got a session idea yourself?  It's not too late!

Reflections of an Art Museum Docent

In this guest post, Tegan Kehoe shares her ongoing adventures as a volunteer docent at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston.  I found her honest assessment of the joys--and the challenges--illuminating reading as I consider projects that work to provide docents with new skills and approaches.  Thanks Tegan, for taking us on your own learning journey.

I titled my first guest post here, about being a volunteer at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, “Learning to Talk About Art.” One of the things I have learned in several months there is that only about a third of the questions I get from visitors are about art. From my experience in other front-of-the-house museum jobs, I knew that about a third of questions would be directional or logistical:  “Where are the restrooms?” “When are the tours?” The part that I didn't predict is that because the Gardner has such a compelling founding story – it was created by one very wealthy woman with a passion for art of all kinds, and her will dictates that the arrangement of the objects never be changed – many visitors want to know more about her and about the construction of the museum. This is a blessing for a docent, because it is easier to learn and share Mrs. Gardner's story than to learn about the thousands of artworks on display.

Another discovery is that I find it hard to remember to use Visual Thinking Strategies, a technique in which a guide asks questions to encourage visitors to think about their own reaction to a piece of art. Typical VTS questioning starts with “What's going on in this picture?” but the technique in its typical form is designed for formal interactions, like a tour or a class. At the Gardner, volunteers are encouraged to use questions inspired by Visual Thinking Strategies in their conversations with visitors. However, while the training on this was quite good, I feel I could benefit from a follow-up training or discussion to help me figure out what this actually means in the galleries.

What I've learned is that asking these types of questions is counter-intuitive for me. When a visitor asks me about a piece of art, it's usually an information question. My impulse is either to answer, or, if I don't know the answer, tell them where else they could get that information. Often I'll add what I do know about the piece, even when I don't have the information they want. After I've done that, the conversation feels complete unless the visitor wants to continue it. My goal for myself is to remember to follow up my responses with a question like, “What drew you to this piece in particular?” From there, we might have the kind of conversation Visual Thinking Strategies is designed to provoke – thoughtful, and empowering the viewer to trust their own understanding of the art.

The Gardner has over a hundred volunteers, which has several implications for the volunteer experience itself. We sign up for our own shifts using Volgistics, a tool for online scheduling. It's easy to use, and as far as I know, it works pretty well for ensuring that there are between two and five of us on each shift. There's a small volunteer lounge with water, tea, lockers, and books and resources on the museum. We have a meeting fifteen minutes before each shift in the lounge. Having that space is great for settling in before the shift starts and getting updates on events at the museum. Additionally, having a space just for volunteers helps me feel like a part of the Gardner.

Another benefit of such a large volunteer program is that the Gardner welcomes volunteers who can only do two shifts of three hours each per month, and may not have a regular schedule. As a young professional with an odd work schedule, I would not be able to come every week at the same time. However, it does seem that the volunteers who can make a more regular commitment get more of the volunteer experience as it is advertised in the information sessions. They have the chance to get into a rhythm, to learn the museum's collection more quickly and perhaps more deeply. They get to know each other, and form a community of volunteers who attend lectures and concerts together, at the museum and beyond.

I, on the other hand, have yet to find time to attend one of the enrichment lectures offered to the volunteers. Volunteers get out of the program what they put into it, and this isn't necessarily in the museum's control.  Of course, most of the regulars of are retirees, and have the luxury of ample free time. For me, the main rewards of volunteering are spending time in those gorgeous, quirky galleries, and getting to share what I am learning about the museum's story and the art there with the visitors.

Photo: Mrs. Gardner on a ladder on the second or third floor. From a series of construction photos, ca. 1900.  The Gardner Museum, www.gardnermuseum.org.

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