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For the past two years, I have been a member of Americorps VISTA which is an arm of the American version of the PeaceCorps. I was stationed in a museum where I wrote community outreach programming for inner-city youths. However, my term of service ended in November and I’ve been unemployed ever since. Some folks attempt to reassure me by saying that grad students are expected to be un(der)employed and poor, but being jobless is quickly losing its charms especially since my new landlord has made it clear that he doesn’t accept conference papers in lieu of rent. What does a young public-historian do when she finds herself unemployed and living in a new city? She attempts to network.
A friend once told me that networking is the act of creating and using social interactions to expand professional contacts and opportunities. So, to cope with my unemployment, I have been asking friends, relatives, acquaintances, and strangers about their jobs and I’m calling that networking. For example, last week my roommate and I went to a local brewpub to meet her father and his friend, Walter. Much to her embarrassment, I engaged this Walter character in a conversation about what he does for a living. Shortly after he finished describing his career with excitement in his voice, I suggested in no uncertain terms that he should hire me to help him fly planes to locate the illegal Marijuana farms that dot the Pennsylvania country-side. Apparently, I’m not “qualified” for that position just because I lack a pilot’s license and don’t know what weed looks like.
A few days later at Hopewell Furnace National Historic Site, I chatted with a uniformed middle-aged park ranger behind the information booth. When I asked her about her position, she replied with a grin and explained that she is retiring in three and a half months. “Can I have your job, please? “That’s not how it works.” “Fine. Whatever lady. Nice hat.”
Maybe grilling people about their careers isn’t exactly networking. For me, the real purpose of asking people what they do for a living is to hear more about jobs I haven’t considered and at the very least it’s a good ice breaker. This morning in the used book store/coffee shop down the street from my apartment, I nonchalantly asked the owner, “is this your dream job?” 25 minutes later our conversation ended with me landing an interview with a friend of hers who owns a used bookstore in a nearby town. Perhaps there is no wrong way to network
This time of year is known for many things: holidays, the beginning of winter, and a barrage of end-of-year fundraising appeals.
Online giving is especially important in December, as people rush to make donations before the end of the tax year. In fact, a significant portion of online giving apparently happens in the final two days of the year. I guess we’re a nation of procrastinators. Fortunately, according to the Chronicle of Philanthropy, many nonprofit groups are seeing better fundraising results this year compared to 2010.
One interesting strategy I ran across this year was organized by the Connecticut Council for Philanthropy. The Council’s “Ways to Share . . . A Holiday Wish List” compiled organizations’ needs from around the state into one go-to resource for potential donors. Groups could list specific items they needed, as well as volunteer opportunities and a “big wish” item. Then, in addition to posting the resource on its own web site, the Council posted highlights from the list to its 450+ followers on Twitter and Facebook — making it very easy for donors to retweet or share on Facebook to their own social networks.
I’d love to see an association of museums or public history sites try a “history holiday wish list” or something similar. Sure, groups would be competing for donations, but we all know that we’re competing no matter what. Pooling marketing efforts just might reach a broader audience than individual organizations would reach on their own.
For other ideas for online fundraising, check out these tips for creating effective online campaigns. And for next year, make sure to investigate some of Mashable’s picks for the best online fundraising platforms.
Happy holidays, and happy fundraising.
The holiday season is upon us and in the museum/public history world it can be a challenging time. Do you decorate for Christmas? What about Hanukkah? Or Kwanzaa? Then there is programming. What kind of December programming is appropriate? A lot of these questions might already be answered for you if your institution is administered by a public entity such as a state, county or city. But for those of us who are in the non-profit world, December can bring some tricky propositions.
As private non-profit organizations, your mission should be your ultimate litmus test whether it is holiday recognitions or just day to day operations. Your strategic plan focuses your efforts toward achieving your mission and provides specific goals to work toward. I know that in my organization which has too few people for the myriad of needs that are to be met, the strategic plan helps everyone know where to apply limited resources.
But how, you say, does one look at a mission statement of a historical organization and come away knowing what do to for the holidays? Of course, you could just say, “it’s the holiday season people expect festive decorations and fun activities so what does it matter that it doesn’t serve the mission, it’s just once a year.” Maybe, like Colonial Williamsburg, your historic site has been doing the same type thing every year and if you deign to change it a hue and cry would arise from the public. (Who, by the way, may never darken your door at any other time of the year.)
This question occurred to me recently when I was visiting Colonial Williamsburg. There, buildings are decorated for Yuletide using natural materials. Evergreen wreaths are adorned with dried flowers and berries, swags are studded with oranges, door lintels are festooned with pineapples and pomegranates. There are whole fruit salads on the front of every house. And the visitors eat it up – not literally. (Honestly who would want to eat fruit that has florist’s wire jabbed through it and has been out in the damp and or freezing weather for weeks?) The tradition as it has come to be does not have roots in colonial holiday customs. They preferred to eat their fruit not hang it on their front door. It dates back to the earliest days of Colonial Williamsburg in the 1930s and speaks more about the Colonial Revival than actual colonial history. For a good article about this go to http://www.history.org/almanack/life/christmas/dec_doors.cfm
But woe to anyone who would suggest going toward a more historically accurate and for the most part austere decorating scheme. The thousands of visitors who travel every year to see the wreaths, roping and swags and who take part in special guided walking tours, purchase ready-made examples for their own homes and acquire special stands to make towers of apples for the centers of their tables would be scandalized. It would also mean a big hit in the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation’s wallet. After all the money spent in its stores, expended for tour tickets and hotel rooms all go to support some exceptionally good historical research and interpretation.
So does the end justify the means? Should we as non-profits cater to the public’s expectations for the holidays if it is ahistorical or misleading? Should we provide activities which do little to advance our organization’s mission but get people in the door in hopes of either a return visit or more importantly, to foster the feeling that the institution is a critical part of the community? If it is ok for the holiday season, where do you draw the line during the rest of the year?
I started this blog with a post called “The Civic Museum.” Civic engagement – it’s the lifeblood of a new vanguard of museums. These museums, big and small, are engaging with their communities on the issues that matter to them. They are finding new and creative ways to foster dialogue and reinforce relationships between people.
As community engagement becomes part of the basic mission of a museum, as it has at any increasing number of institutions, I wonder what’s on the horizon.
"The Esperanza Peace and Justice Center in San Antonio hosts a community protest."
Recently, I attended a conference where Graciela Sanchez from the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center in San Antonio talked about her work reclaiming the history of the Tejano community on the west side of the city. The Center is a “multi-issue cultural center;” they work to restore connections between the community and their history through community arts projects, historic preservation, and political advocacy. What Sanchez expressed so strikingly was that the historical pieces of the Center’s mission were secondary to the larger goal of advocating for their community and changing the culture of marginalization. History is one tool in their toolbox.
The Esperanza Peace and Justice Center isn’t a museum, but it’s easy to imagine museums taking on similar roles in their communities. Some already have. In October, a group of museums and gardens in Pittsburgh hosted a symposium, “Feeding the Spirit: Museums, Food, and Community.” They explored the ways in which smart, sustainable food choices could be central to the museum’s mission whether it’s through the café of the interpretation. These institions are joining in First Lady Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move campaign, doing their part to promote healthy eating and active lifestyles among children and families. In fact, AAM’s Center for the Future of Museums has as their slogan “…because museums can change the world.”
When does civic engagement become activism? In most institutions, historic interpretation or artistic appreciation is still at the center of the mission. In the future, will these sites turn that balance on its head? What might it mean for museums – places which hold unique positions in the public trust – to advocate for certain constituencies? What is the activist museum and how should it function?
It may be a bit early for New Year’s resolutions, but it’s never a bad idea to build time into your professional life for learning new digital skills.
Fortunately, you have plenty of great options for building new digital humanities skills whether you’re looking for a semester-long class, a one-week seminar, a single lecture, or just a list of tips.
Before you get too far, look at local universities’ offerings for classes, professional development opportunities, lectures and events that may help fill in gaps in your knowledge or connect you with people who have the skills you seek.
You might also be interested in the classes offered at Digital Humanities Summer Institute, sponsored by the University of Victoria, Canada.
Next, check out what’s offered at upcoming conferences. Not surprisingly, many professional organizations host seminars or workshops in concert with regional or national meetings. See what’s offered by the National Council on Public History, Alliance of Digital Humanities Organizations and American Association of Museums, among others, that focuses on new trends, new software and technology, and other useful professional development topics in the digital humanities.
Another great option is to seek out a THATCamp – the Technology and Humanities Camp. Created by the Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New Media at George Mason University, THATCamps are collaborative, productive “unconferences” where participants shape the agenda based on their own needs and interests. If you don’t see an upcoming session that works for you, you can propose organizing your own.
You can also skim through archived notes from past THATcamps online at each camp’s web site, like the one from September’s THATCamp Philly (there’s a list of more past events here). Of course, THATCamps are not alone in posting session materials online after the fact. For instance, the organizers of the annual Museums and the Web conferences post a selection of past conference papers online here.
If one group’s programming is over your head technologically, don’t be discouraged. There are plenty of options out there. You may want to check out some of the events listed here: “Conferences for Digital Humanities, Digital Archives, Digital Libraries, and Digital Museums.”
Last but not least, you may want to take the initiative to teach yourself some new skills. With some creative online searching, can find any number of forums, wikis, list-servs, digital books, articles, and more to walk you through how to develop a strong digital exhibit, how to encode text, how to use social media, and much more.
Last month I pondered the inequity between the support art organizations receive as compared to public history ones. I hope it led some of you to check into what the numbers are in your own state. When I first found out not only was state funding so disparate in Maryland but that the offices overseeing the distribution of that funding were in such different parts of the government, I was surprised and puzzled. Why is the arts council under the auspices of the Department of Business and Economic Development, Division of Tourism, Film and the Arts, when the historical trust is placed in the Office of Planning?
This indicates to me a couple of things. One, that the state recognizes the arts have a place in its overall efforts to encourage business, mostly I think through encouraging film makers to bring their productions to the state. The other is that there is some sort of disconnect between the value of history to tourism and the economy. Here in Maryland, and I wager in your states, we hear a lot about heritage tourism. Those in the tourism industry say people who are mainly interested in historical activities and in visiting historic sites and museums not only spend more money than average tourists, but also stay longer. So wouldn’t it make sense to place the agency representing those sites that are so attractive to tourists under the Division of Tourism as well?
But enough about state funding. What about public perception? After all, we non-profits get most of our money from donations by individuals, memberships and contributions from private foundations and businesses. I’ve brought up the topic of unequal monetary support with colleagues and friends to see what they had to say. In a very unscientific review of the issue, I found that among the general public (those who aren’t in “the business” ) there is little distinction between art museums and history museums – they consider both to belong under the heading “arts & culture.” Unfortunately, in reality the culture in arts & culture rarely includes history.
Among the general public, as well as among my artist friends and art-related non-profit counterparts, the fact that history isn’t at least funded the same as them, if not better, comes as a surprise. I still remember the incredulous look on the face of the executive director of one arts organization to whom I mentioned this disparity. We have all heard of the “starving artist” but “starving public historians” are real but not recognized.
I’ve heard a number of theories as to why the arts are funded, on the whole, at a much higher level than history. Some have said it is the prestige. Getting to go to glitzy galas, hobnobbing with wealthy art collectors, opera aficionados and symphony supporters, help to elevate one’s perception of one’s position in the community. Supporting the arts brings a civilizing effect to the community. I think that might be part of it, but I also think it has a lot to do with money and fame. After all, if you support a theater you never know if one of the actors will become a Hollywood star, if you support a film festival one of those film makers just might be another Steven Spielberg, that starving artist just might be the next Andy Warhol. When did you last hear of a millionaire historian?
Friends and co-workers looking to apply to graduate programs have come to me for advice and it has been satisfying to be able to offer my two cents as a mini-mentor. It is especially important to me to help out where I can because when I first considered applying to graduate school, I really didn’t have any guidance. With a general idea of what I was interested in studying, I relied on a combination of Google searches, graduate student blogs, and blind guessing. Since none of my friends had applyed to graduate school and no one in my family had gone through the process before, who was I supposed to look up to for advice and instruction? It’s not like I could learn from the experiences of reality television role models on programs such as America’s Next Top PhD Candidate, Say Yes to the Stress, Who Never Wants to be a Millionaire, or So You Think You Can Pay off Your Loans. (I hope you’re listening network television producers!) All joking aside, in these planning stages I absolutely would have benefited from having a mentor to guide me through the process.
Relationships between mentor and mentee take different forms, but generally speaking a mentor is a professional who offers encouragement and advice to a younger person looking for direction. These partnerships are invaluable and often teach rewarding lessons that are not covered in a traditional classroom setting.
The large majority of my peers who have meaningful mentor partnerships have linked up with professors with similar research interests but it doesn’t always have to be that way. While professors have guided me through the sometimes murky academic waters, as someone who isn’t primarily concerned with starting a career in academia, I have found professional mentorships to be more valuable. The best lessons I’ve learned have come from job supervisors willing to take me under their wing and teach me how to learn from their mistakes and successes. To me, this is almost a dual mentorship because these folks navigated through similar educational situations, but are also able to offer practical career advice as well.
The first bit of advice I give out to anyone who will listen is to visit the website Freerice.com. It’s an engaging game that tricks people into learning vocabulary, grammar, and math skills. In addition to preparing players for at the very least the GRE, with every right answer the sponsors of the site donate ten grains of rice to the United Nations World Food Program. Check it out.
This time of year, the Fairmount neighborhood in Philadelphia is dominated by Eastern State Penitentiary. The prison is always a strong presence, but when thoughts turn to ghosts and things that go bump in the night, those tall walls loom ominous and foreboding. The site does a great job of using this to their advantage; their popular haunted house, “Terror Behind the Walls,” turns 20 this year. I’m easily scared, so I avoid Eastern State around Halloween. Nonetheless, it is one of my favorite historic sites on the East Coast – absolutely worth it, whether you decide to go for the thrills or the rest of the tour.
Eastern State Penitentiary opened in 1829 to much fanfare. It was the first true penitentiary, designed to encourage remorse and repentance in the criminals it housed. From the very beginning, it was a unique institution; officials from across Europe and the United States came to see its distinctive architectural plan and individual cells built to house prisoners in solitary confinement. Today, you can wander through the long corridors and peek into the same cells, guided by an audio tour recorded by Steve Buscemi. (Creepily appropriate, right?) The site isn’t fully restored, and there is something evocative, haunting, about the crumbling walls and remnants of jail cell artifacts.
"A cell on the oldest block at Eastern State Penitentiary."
The prison officially closed in 1971. Over the course of its history, it held thousands of prisoners in many different kinds of prison environments. (Al Capone spent eight months at Eastern State; his luxury cell is a popular stop on the tour.) Although prison sites regularly draw tourists – think Alcatraz – Eastern State Penitentiary is unique because of the sheer length of time it was in operation. Visitors begin by contemplating the prison experience in the 19th century; the Pennsylvania System, piloted at Eastern State, focused on solitary confinement, labor, and exercise as the path to reforming inmates. Later on the tour, visitors come face to face with the 20th century: the fully mechanized death row cellblock is a stark example of changing attitudes towards criminals.
And so, Eastern State Penitentiary explores its past within a larger context of punishment and imprisonment. The prison population in America is growing exponentially and inequitably, and capital punishment remains a hot-button issue. Yet there are few forums in which to explore where we’ve come from and where we are going. What is our responsibility to those who break the law? Eastern State Penitentiary, by virtue of its own history, has an important role to play in this discussion. Historic sites are valuable because they help us understand important topics by historicizing them, by providing the perspective of the past, and by tracing that trajectory into our own future.
Eastern State Penitentiary
2027 Fairmount Avenue
Philadelphia, PA 19130
“Terror Behind the Walls,” September 23 through November 12
This little video went viral recently: a one-year-old who apparently thinks that a print magazine is no more than a broken iPad.
I don’t have a tablet myself (at least not yet), but I can see why the toddler might be confused. These days, we’re assimilating new technologies at lightning fast rates, and expect even cutting-edge features to become universal almost overnight.
Right now my own feature-envy is centered on the escape key: Facebook‘s use of escape to close images being viewed is so ingenious to me that I keep hitting escape on other sites, too, assuming that it works everywhere I want it to. If only!
As for the iPad toddler, is she a harbinger of our digital-dominated future, or of the present that’s already here? Or is she merely a toddler who likes objects that respond to her touch?
I can’t help but wonder what new technologies my own infant daughter will experience, assimilate, and eventually take for granted during her lifetime. She’s just a few months younger than the iPad toddler, but will that age-difference affect their relative experiences? Perhaps.
Fortunately, you don’t have to predict the future of technology to work in digital humanities. You just have to recognize opportunity when it knocks. Heck, it’s just a week old, but I can already imagine public history uses for digital concierges like Siri (available on the new iPhone 4S).
Future-casting. There’s an activity often met with trepidation by historians. While history might inform the present, it isn’t a tool for predicting the future. Or is it? At a conference last month, held by the UMass-Amherst Public History program on the occasion of their 25th anniversary, one presenter urged public historians to embrace their role in forecasting the future.
At first blush, it’s hard to imagine what this role might look like. But if we think specifically about museums, all of the necessary tools are in place. Museums are spaces where we gather information about the past, with art and artifacts and interpretation, and put that information squarely in the context of the present. We ask our visitors to share their ideas about how the past and the present connect. It is only natural that we throw suppositions about the future into that mix.
The National Building Museum in Washington, DC is doing exactly that. Last fall, they launched the Intelligent Cities project, with support from Time Magazine and IBM. They’ve jumped headfirst into some future-casting about our homes and our communities.
With the Intelligent Citiesinitiative, the museum is hoping to discover something about how we live in cities now as a way to explore where we want to be in the future. The museum has been gathering community input on their website, through polls and online video submissions, about how people make decisions about where they live. The website is organized around six major topics, moving outward in size from “The Home” all the way to “The Country.”
"The Space-Time-Money Continuum, by curator Susan Piedmont-Palladino (National Building Museum)."
Accompanying infographics transmit the changing nature of cities in sharp, fresh ways. The new “Intelligent City” might take better account of fuel in choosing transport methods, or child obesity in choosing how far to live from the nearest elementary school.
Part of the innovative nature of this project comes from the museum’s belief that all of us have something to offer on this topic. National Building Museum president and executive director Chase W. Rynd says, “Technology and access to information has reached a point where non-professionals can generate data and think deeply about where they live. Through Intelligent Cities, we have the means to share their viewpoints with experts in the design and building industries so that there is a true give and take between constituencies.” The eventual result of the project will be an exhibition in 2013, but as an interim step an Intelligent Cities book will be published this fall. The volume will include essays from experts in the fields of technology and design, as well as observations culled from the website and a recent public forum.
At the conference last month, we thought about what the field of public history will look like in 2036. Three major themes emerged: a stronger commitment to sharing, or a throwing off entirely, professional authority; the integration of sustainability into our mission and activities; and a deeper interest in the work history can do in the world. The Intelligent Cities initiative is an example of how those trends can come together in one project.
For the first time, more than half of the world’s population lives in cities. Historians have something to contribute to this topic, of course. Cities have alternatively been thought of as centers of ideas and hotbeds of crime – both the best and the worst that civilization has to offer. How have cities grown and changed over time? How do we want the cities of tomorrow to function? I’m pleased that the National Building Museum is leading the charge to discuss what this urban future might look like, getting input from as many corners as possible. History has work to do.
National Building Museum
401 F Street, NQ
Washington, DC 20001
