Dancing with Donors

Over the last few weeks I've been working a lot with donors, and find myself reflecting on all the class time we spent talking about donors.  I don't think there was anyone sitting in those classes who thought it was anything but a waste of time. We're all adults, most of us have worked in libraries or retail, there's nothing you can teach us about people and how to handle them, how difficult they can be, and how crazy they can make you.  Yet now I'm glad for those classes.  Some of what professors were trying to get across must have penetrated my skull, because I've been thinking about those classes all week and realizing I have actually been following my professors' advice.

Everything happens at work at the same time, so it's no surprise both my donor dances started around the same time.  One donor was concerned about cassettes he had given to the museum.  We were going to get them digitized, and this was one of the big selling points for him to give us these cassettes.  He doesn't trust museums in general, but he agreed the tapes should be made more easily available and we were the people to get it done.  Then he started worrying. Where was the digitizing going to take place? Could he be present? Should he just buy a machine and take back his tapes and do it himself (that way if something went wrong he had no one but himself to blame), we weren't going to mail them anywhere were we?  Since we are currently researching and building our permanent exhibit and the tapes were securely stored, digitizing them wasn't on my front burner when he started calling. But what it really came down to was, he needed some hand holding.  He needed to hear (from my boss who he knows better than he knows me), that we knew what we were doing, that we had a plan, that everything was under control. He wasn't worried we hadn't digitized the tapes the second we got them, he just had visions of the U.S. Mail losing these records and needed to hear that things were going to be alright.

The other story concerns a reluctant donor.  She was convinced by friends that she should bring her things to us, but wasn't really sure why.  She didn't see her notebooks or photographs as important to anyone but herself, and wasn't buying it when her friends and I talked about how she was a primary source, an expert in the area, and her notes would be important to researchers. She was willing to give us some of her things, but had too much of an emotional attachment to what we as a museum really wanted her to give us.  She finally decided to loan us what we wanted and let us scan them before giving them back.  What she was willing to donate were things I didn't really want, but took anyway.  When she called the next day to say she hadn't read the Deed of Gift I had carefully gone over with her and she had signed, and there were photographs she only wanted to loan not give, I agreed to alter the Deed of Gift.  Did I have the right to tell her she'd signed them over and couldn't take them back? Yes. Legally do these notes on archaeology of government sites even belong to her in the first place? No (but that's a whole different highly technical subject for another time). Do the things she gave us to keep have any value to us as a museum? Possible, but not likely, and I'm sure there will be a few blogs worth of figuring out what to do with them at a later time.

But our business is as much about preserving relationships with people as it is preserving the artifacts and archives we work with every day.  Being accommodating, being willing to take items that don't necessarily fit the scope of collections, or hand holding and assuring someone you really do know what you're doing, makes for building blocks in that relationship.  As much as we want to beat our heads against the wall when dealing with a difficult donor, sometimes you just have to go with it. When the donor says "but I don't know you, where's that other girl?" and you have to explain that she left for a different job but you're just as qualified, you can't take it personally. Because you're building trust, a personally connection and relationship with someone. Not as a museum, not as an institution, but as an individual. And going out of your way to make a good impression at all times leads to positive comments and, we can hope, eventually leads to convincing donors to give you the collections you really want to get your hands on.

Exhibit Reception

Exhibit design drawing- Lake Cahuilla

We've been working hard to get our permanent exhibit into the final phase and this weekend we rolled out the final exhibit design drawings to the public.  A public reception on Saturday displayed the drawings, test text panels in English and Spanish, and was a great opportunity for us to thank those who have been big supporters over the years.  This was very much the culmination of what we've been working towards since the first staff member was hired.

The event was a huge success, with 158 people in attendance for the reception and the screening of  First People Kumeyaay, a new documentary on the rich history and culture of the Kumeyaay Nation. We received a lot of positive feedback on the upcoming exhibit.  People are excited to see the progress this grassroots museum has made and be a part of the growth they see.

Exhibit design drawing- Agave roasting

I am thrilled to be a part of the growth and development of the museum and the building of this new exhibit.  I've been wearing more hats than I ever expected to since coming here, and I think for the most part they all fit: Archivist, Head Curator, volunteer coordinator, intern mentor, event planner, exhibit designer, docent, researcher, social media specialist, and a hundred other little jobs that need to happen to keep a small museum running.  A small museum and a small staff means everyone has to be flexible, and can't be afraid to learn new things.  I'm still growing into some of my hats, but every day more and more of them seem to fit a little better.

Archives: Not Just About Research, But About Life

Yesterday while doing some archival work in the lab we came across some newspaper articles, mostly from the 70s, about energy and the environment. The Imperial Valley was at that time beginning to be seen as a place where solar and wind projects might thrive and it was fascinating to see such early articles on the process, considering that today green energy is such a big part of valley life. I mentioned to my intern that these were the sort of things that high school student might use for research projects on the valley's history when we finish processing the collection.  We also found a series of articles on archaeology, the BLM, and off-roaders and the fight to preserve sites, the desert, and somehow still let people have a good time.  Also timely, since these are still conversations being held today.  It's alway exciting to see new material and know that you can use them as an example of why archives are still important to the community.

But it was what I received in the mail this week that really brought home to me the importance of archives today, and allowing us to connect to people.  I've processed many collections of the years, including correspondence, and always seen other people's letters as a fascinating research tool to see their lives and their times through their own words. But at one point, those were just letters.  Handled by the post office, telling someone about daily life somewhere else, what a friend or family member experienced on a vacation. A way of connecting two people, referring to things maybe only they would understand or be interested in.  I am one of those few people who still write letters. Not many, but there are a few people who still like getting handwritten snail mail from me. My best friend from Indonesia and I handwrote letters until recently, when we finally gave in to the lousy postal systems of our two countries constantly losing our letters and started emailing letters to each other. It's not the same, I don't think either of us likes it as much, but it keeps us connected.

Last week I got a call from my friend Allaina's mother. It was four years ago this coming May that we lost Allaina.  While going through a few things, Terrilee had found a postcard Allaina wrote to me during her trip to Ireland in 2001.  Did I want it?  The answer, of course, was yes.  As hard as I knew it would be to read, I still wanted any connection to Allaina that I could have. To hear her words and have another little slice of what she was thinking at some point in her life.  A few days ago I got the postcard.  Once again I was seeing my friend's handwriting, and hearing her voice telling me about the two identical, hard to find, postcards she had bought and the story behind them.  She referenced Yeats and I was reminded of the Irish literature class we took in college together,  the semester just before Allaina's trip.  Would someone 50 years from now know she was reminding me of that, of why it was especially interesting to her to see where Yeats lived, of the story of his muse Lady Gregory? Of the English professor who taught the class, who we loved so much we took any class with him we could just to listen to his stories?  Almost certainly not. Would a future archivist know that this postcard wasn't out of order among my papers, but had been sent to me over ten years after it had been written? That it was no longer just telling the story of a trip to Ireland through an obligatory postcard, but telling the story of my relationship to Allaina today?

When I processed William Everett's papers at the Massachusetts Historical Society, I liked to try and imagine how he would have felt receiving some of the letters I was processing.  This one from his younger sister, who he was very close to, that one from a school friend he stayed in touch with throughout their lives.  It is easy to forget that what we find and process in a collection is not only information about a time, place, and people from centuries past.  It is their life. The stories, jokes, references, secrets they shared in paper that perhaps they would never share  in person.  The pleasure in receiving a letter along with a bill in the mail, of deciding what to share with the reader that would make the letter worth the sending.  In this case, it is not just the story of a vacation, but of a friendship  that began the first day of college at a get-to-know-you outdoor picnic/mixer at Lake Forest College, IL and remains strong to this day.

Small Museum Association Annual Conference Recap

This week I attended the Small Museum Association’s 30^th annual conference in Ocean City, Maryland.  As a smaller group connected with the American Alliance of Museums, the SMA champions the cause of small museums and historic houses. Their mission is "to develop and maintain a peer network among people who work for small museums, giving them opportunities to learn, share knowledge, and support one another so that they in turn, can better serve their institutions, communities, and profession."  I was excited to be able to present at this conference, learn what my colleagues in the small museum world were doing, and make some new connections.  

Getting to Ocean City turned out to be a much bigger challenge than I expected it to be.  While conferences go to places in the ‘off season’ to get better rates on hotels, apparently ‘off season’ in Ocean City means getting anywhere- including a major conference hotel- is next to impossible.  To make a long and painful story short, let’s give the hotel its due and say they were beyond useless, and it was more complicated than the internet made it sound (although I suppose most things are). I left Ocotillo at 2:30 am PST, left San Diego at 6:30 am, landed in Baltimore with no weather trouble (to my amazement), and one 3-hour shuttle bus ride and 20 minute cab ride later, finally made it to my hotel by about 10 pm EST. Even now I refuse to calculate how many hours travel time that was. 

The conference was a day and a half and I’m proud to say I made it to a session in each of the time slots. There was a very interesting keynote talk on one museum’s experience with kids in summer programs and what they did and did not like about different exhibits that I’m still thinking about.  How to you compare different experiences and the lessons they learn to your institution? When they discovered kids didn’t like technology in their exhibits and we are building an exhibit with lots of technology? Some areas have kids completely immersed in technology, others (like mine) do not. I've always been a big advocate of hands on aspects to museums in addition to technology, and definitely have ideas and thoughts to bring back to the table when I get back to the IVDM and our exhibit development.  I also got some good tips on building a Wikipedia site for the museum, felt better after hearing most people have similar experiences with volunteers and I was even able to give suggestions to others, listened to a talk about education programs and may have gotten a few ideas for our upcoming field trips, and had an overall good experience.

I connected with several lovely ladies- including the only other person to attend the conference from west of the Mississippi. We had several similar experiences and were a little disappointed to find that the SMA is much more mid-atlantic focused than we felt it should be (they do claim on their website to serve "small museums in the mid-Atlantic region and beyond"). I’d like to see it really expand beyond the mid-Atlantic, especially since AAM always points people in small museums to SMA, no matter where they are geographically.  SMA is an all volunteer organization, and it is always easier to work in your own area, but maybe we can do some brainstorming on how to expand their reach.  It’s still much to soon after the conference for me to decide if I want to try and encourage change in this organization or not, and how I would do that.

The conference had a little less than 250 attendees, much smaller than the Society of American Archivist conferences I’ve been to in the past.  I liked this smaller approach- many people knew each other already but were always happy to draw in a new person, everyone was very relaxed and open, friendly, and made me feel right at home.  There was nothing overwhelming about the event, but it encouraged you to exchange ideas and grow as a person and an institution in a very friendly manner. I definitely hope I get to return next year, and maybe have another chance to present.

SMA Conference Presentation: On the Road Again: Adapting Traveling Exhibits to fit your Small Museum

1850 newspaper ad found through the LoC's Chronicling America site

The main reason I attended the Small Museum Association conference was to give a presentation on travelling exhibits and to share the IVDM’s experience turning Gold Fever! into a successful and fun exhibit.  While I have attended conferences, I had never given a talk at a conference before.  My time slot was the last slot on the last day and I admit I was convinced most people would head out early and skip the last talks altogether, let alone show up to hear me.

20 people were interested enough to attend my session and it ended up being pretty awesome.  They not only listened, they took notes, asked questions, and we had a really great talk afterwards about ideas everyone could implement.  I refused to make the classic mistake of having a PowerPoint presentation that was all words, or that I read from.  Instead, my slides were almost entirely pictures from our exhibit, highlighting different features as I talked about them.  Many people commented on how cool the exhibit looked, and congratulated the museum on a job well done- which I still really take pride in even though the exhibit itself has come down.  It reminded me how much I enjoyed building the supplemental exhibits, and challenged me to make our next travelling exhibit even better.  Taking a minute to blow my own horn I also got a lot of positive feedback on the presentation itself, how I gave it, how informative it and helpful it was.  Several people said this should have been one of the sessions SMA filmed (as soon as I heard they were filming sessions I checked to make sure mine wasn’t one of them.  Newbie nerves can only take so much at a time!) A few people asked for my card so they could email me with questions as they worked on exhibits of their own. 

It was a hugely positive experience for me to hear so many encouraging things from professionals who have been in the field much longer than I have, and to hear them say that both the museum and I are headed for great things.  In a way, I think this was the first time I felt like I was also a “professional” not a student, and these were my colleagues.  That I now have experiences and ideas that make me worth listening to on certain subjects blows my mind a little.  I hope I can hone in on something I’m equally passionate about for next year (and, more importantly, might have a fresh perspective on).  I’ve now set a challenge for myself both in building exhibits and in giving presentations.

Warning for my non archival friends: the next few blogs will probably end up focusing on the conference from a more professional point of view. This may bore you, but if you decide to read them, I'll try to make them worth your while.

StarGazing in the Desert

One of the most popular events we hold at the Imperial Valley Desert Museum is the StarGazing in the Desert. It's a great opportunity for people, especially families, who haven't been out to the museum before to check us out, there are arts and crafts for the kids, and a talk and astronomy photographs to see, as well as getting to actually look through telescopes.  We usually have 4-6 people bring out telescopes and set them up around the building so you can get different views.

Steve Benton and Neal Hitch checking out Jupiter

This was our sixth StarGazing party and the first where I have been one of the main people in charge. As the Museum Archivist at previous functions my job was to represent the museum, engage visitors,   make sure the volunteers had everything they needed (including taking over for them when they needed breaks), take photographs for our social media sites, work the gift shop, and anything else that came up. As Head Curator, this time I was doing all of the above but more of it and with more institutional responsibility on my head.

Overall it went really well. 165 people came, the talk on the Voyager missions was standing room only, a last minute raffle managed to raise enough money to pay for the event, and the new items I had picked up for the gift shop last week were a big hit.

Our volunteers were wonderful, helping with everything from telescopes and gift shop to snake patrol (walking around with a heavy duty flashlight and walking stick to light people's way when they were walking in the dark and surreptitiously keep an eye out for any unwanted snake visitors). Our idea for button making instead of clay was a hit and a lot easier to set up, break down, and clean up after.  I even got the chance to step outside and look at the stars myself! The Pleiades, Orion's Nebula, and Jupiter were out in full force last night- perfect, clear skies for viewing after a very cloudy night the night before, and I even saw Jupiter's 4 main moons and brown belts.  The new supernova wasn't visible from where we were, which was disappointing, but other than that you couldn't have asked for better.  The kids had a blast coloring and making buttons and looking through the telescopes. I heard several versions of "Stars are awesome!" as they ran from one telescope to the other.  Enthusiastic kids always give you a little extra boost when you look back on an event.

It all goes to show that a great group of volunteers and a lot of enthusiasm can make an event so successful that people can't wait to come back for the next time!

Steve and a junior astronomer excited over clear skies

Westward Ho!

It is a truth universally acknowledged that jobs are hard to come by in today's economy.  For the most part, we have all come to accept that the days of getting hired right out of school and working for the same company for 20-30 years are long gone. In the field of archives and library science there are still some permanent positions that come up on job post feeds or websites, which are instantly overwhelmed with applicants who range from just out of school to having 50 years of experience.  The norm now in our field is the grant funded, project position. We are now almost all  "Project Archivists", no matter what our official title may be in the workplace.  And as with all things, projects come down to money.

My position at the Imperial Valley Desert Museum developing their archives ended, as we knew it would, over the summer when the money for the project ran out.  It was actually a longer stint than we had initially thought and I enjoyed every minute there.  Developing an archive and helping to build a new museum are not opportunities that come along often.  After that job I went back to my home base on Long Island and continued the search for a job in my field.  The owners of Book Revue were nice enough to take me back (I had worked there for years before going to Simmons for grad school), even knowing I was actively searching for another job, so I was able to pay the bills and keep from going completely stir crazy while I hunted. I am very grateful to have their support and the safety net of always being able to go back to work there.

But then, to my surprise, I got a call from the IVDM's director that the museum had gotten more money and did I want to come back out and pick up where I left off in the archives?  They could guarantee money for at least three more months of the project, and were willing to support me as I went to the Small Museum Association's Annual Conference in Ocean City, Maryland in February to present on the Gold Fever! exhibit we had developed.  Going back out west, seeing and working with old friends, living in and exploring the desert, and expanding my experience and resume at a great new museum? You can guess it didn't take much thinking before I said yes!

This Thursday I will head west again.  Taking an airplane instead of boats and ox drawn wagons should mean I get there faster than those struck with gold fever in 1849 did (6 months or more).  But considering the disaster that has become the airports and airlines in the Northeast due to ridiculously cold weather, wind, and snow, that's not the guarantee you would expect. Wish me luck as I travel west and expect more blog posts to follow!