Monday, December 9, 2013

Difficult Issues in History Museums

We all know that the past isn’t always pretty.  It wasn’t always “simpler” back then.  And it certainly wasn’t safer.  The “good old days” could be pretty bad, to be honest.  I’m pretty grateful to live in the 21st century. 

Learning about the more challenging and difficult topics of the past is, I think all of us in the history museum field will agree, important.  Those difficult topics inform us about why today’s world is the way it is (or, on a smaller scale, our local communities are the way they are).  Often, those difficult issues have relevance to similar issues of today, or they are still playing out. 

In the broader work of Reach Advisors, we have found that a sizable number of the nearly 5,000 most meaningful museum experiences we have collected from visitors are about difficult issues of the past.  War, strife, plagues, social justice issues, racism and civil rights, and more than any other, the Holocaust, appear in those experiences.  They may be difficult experiences, and emotionally challenging to deal with, but they seem to pack a punch . . . but one that visitors appreciate experiencing.

Because the history of the Hempsted Houses includes a slave history, and because we felt that issues of race and social justice are still playing out in New London, we wanted to gain a better understanding of how cultural consumers think about, and are receptive to, experiences that challenge them by delving into difficult issues of the past.  We turned to our Connecticut Cultural Consumers panel to learn more.

First, we specifically asked them about history museums tackling difficult issues of the past.  Their response was almost unanimous:  they feel that so long as the topic is mission appropriate then history museums have almost a moral imperative to explore those issues.  And to not do so would undermine their trust in, and the authenticity of, that history museum. 

But note that I specifically mentioned that the topic had to be “mission appropriate.”  That is, while it would be totally appropriate for the Hempsted Houses to share that slave history, it would be a stretch (at best) and totally inappropriate (at worst) for them to do a series of programs on the Holocaust, as compelling as that topic is.  The link to the mission isn’t clear to visitors. 

Although the panelists felt strongly that mission appropriate topics should be shared, many panelists had theoretical (and real) boundaries or limits.  They included:

  • A desire for facts.  They wanted the difficult history to be fact-based, and that opinions or a slanted interpretation would undermine a history museum’s authenticity and trustworthiness.  Yet when they talked about specific examples of difficult history in museums, they provided examples that are fact-based but also stake an opinion, such as Holocaust museums and sites.  The key seemed to be that the museum, when staking an opinion, did so clearly and transparently . . . and backed it up. 
  • Challenging is OK, but not confrontation.  The panelists felt it was perfectly fine to be intellectually and personally challenged to think differently and have their opinions questions, but they had little to no appetite for confrontation.  As Susan L. reminded us “For the vast majority of visitors to such a site, it is a social or recreational activity with an important intellectual connection.  To turn that into a forum of vastly different political views would undermine the enjoyment that is the driver of site visitation.”
  • Flexibility is important.  That is, how you present and discuss difficult issues makes a difference.  Several panelists specifically mentioned that, during a typical museum visit, they were not interested in hearing the opinions of strangers, regardless if they agreed with them or not.  If a museum was trying to turn a museum experience into a discussion or forum, they wanted the flexibility to opt out.  Instead, they valued discussing the experience with those they visited with far more.  The point?  They didn’t want to be trapped into something they did not come for, and they did want something of substance to talk about in the car as they left.  (Note that this does not preclude a museum having a discussion or forum . . . just not forcing visitors to participate or doing so as a special program.)

When it came to difficult issues that are unresolved today, the panelists were a bit more nuanced, and a bit more hesitant to endorse it than those of the past.  Like with difficult issues of the past, they felt that information should be provided in a factual, and unbiased (or at least evidence-based) manner.  Again, if the museum staked an opinion, they wanted it to be crystal clear why they were doing so, and for it to be backed up.

But even more important, and like with difficult issues of the past, they felt it should only be done if it is mission appropriate.  Some of them questioned the rationale of doing so outside of that mission, and judged museums as catering to political correctness when they presented difficult issues that strayed too far.  We also saw perspectives on the other side as well, with questions about whitewashing the past due to external political pressures.  There seem to be no easy answers.

Thus, the presentation of difficult issues of the past and today is challenging, but can also enable visitors to have deep and meaningful experiences with history.  Our takeaways are:

  • Do so if mission appropriate.
  • Do so in a fact-based way, backed up with evidence.
  • State a museum’s position clearly and transparently, and back it up as well.
  • Allow visitors to absorb your content in the manner they desire, e.g., privately, with their social group, or publicly with other visitors.  But don’t force them to choose a manner they may not care for. 

Ultimately, though, the majority of the panel felt that museums were excellent venues for intellectually and emotionally challenging content, if treated respectfully.  Two of our panelists made excellent cases for museums doing so.

First, Gail, who shared:   

“Museums are the ideal place for opening dialog. Museums should present info to make people think. Museums should ask questions & force us to question our belief systems so that we are always evolving. I would go so far as to assert that museums have this responsibility.”

And then Cindy, who said:  

“Changing of ideas and making one think should be the purpose of a museum.  Your world needs to be rocked sometimes!”

Although this post wraps up the series on the Connecticut Cultural Consumers Panel, what we learned in the panel, including what we have shared here and much of our other findings, will likely come up as other members of the interpretive team explore the implications and the new tactics deployed at the Hempsted Houses over the coming months.  

We’d love to hear what you think!  To comment, click below where it says how many individuals have commented on this post (e.g., “no comments,” “1 comment,” etc.).

Susie Wilkening is a Senior Consultant and Curator of Museum Audiences at Reach Advisors.  She is leading several phases of audience research for this project.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Meaningful History

In my last post, where I explored how and why the panelists from our Connecticut Cultural Consumers panel value history, it became clear that good stories were a catalyst for the most effective history experiences, and that they helped engage individuals with history in a meaningful way.

But what stories, and how?

First, some background from Reach Advisors’ broader survey work.  In general, when we ask people why they visit museums, they give us a variety of reasons and motivations.  Stories don’t generally come up as an answer, while gaining knowledge does.  (Note that we have never listed stories as a possible answer in closed-ended questions, while we have listed “gaining knowledge.”  But we have also asked open-ended questions in surveys about visiting museums, and that is where stories still don’t generally come up, while gaining knowledge does.)

So stories are not what come immediately to mind when museum visitors think about their museum visits, and why they visit.  When we ask museum visitors about their most meaningful visits to museums in the past, however, suddenly stories are mentioned . . . a lot.  Over and over.  It turns out that while visitors may not intuitively link stories and museums, and may not explicitly seek out museums for their stories, stories turn out to be an incredibly important method of connecting our visitors to our content. 

This certainly held true for our panelists in Connecticut.  Stories were a key mechanism for connecting them with people from the past, as Susan S. conveys when she says that “[the experiences] that made lasting impressions were those that let you into people’s lives . . .”

There was also a sense that the more that they learned about a certain place or time period, and the more that they heard stories that they connected with, the more that their empathy was engendered.  Engendering empathy, it turns out, is pretty important for the most meaningful, even transformative, experiences for our visitors.  Only by empathizing with others can we understand how and why history has played out the way it has, what it felt like to live in a different time, or just as crucially for today, how it felt, or feels, to live in a different place with different customs and world views (leading to greater cultural literacy, an extremely important knowledge base to have in this increasingly globalized world).

So how are we thinking about this for the Hempsted Houses?  We want visitors to have meaningful, even transformative experiences when they visit, especially as they think about the long-term ramifications of slavery, racism, and related social justice issues of the past and how they still affect individuals, communities, and society today.  To best enable that, the staff and interpretive planning team are turning around our thinking and focusing on the engendering of empathy as a primary goal, using compelling, empathy-inducing stories, and doing all of this in an immersive, evocative environment – namely the Hempsted Houses themselves. 

One method of engendering empathy, but by no means the only method, is to share stories that are more difficult to share, often of human trauma and resilience.  I’m going to explore that a bit more in my next post, but I wanted to leave you with a part of a much longer experience shared by one of our panelists, Andrea, who first visited a concentration camp outside Warsaw, and then traveled on to Israel.  Her comments beautifully encapsulate the value of connecting visitors emotionally with museum content . . . and changing their lives.  They are also a call to action.

“The next day, [after visiting the concentration camp,] we left for Israel, to visit the Yad Vashem Children’s Memorial Museum. I think the creators and interpreters must have been led by hand in the Universe, as I couldn’t have imagined a more respectful, peace-filled treatment of a tribute to children taken by war in a most savage way. 
I left Israel for home with a new found appreciation for what the words ‘museum’ and ‘interpretation’ meant to me. I was changed by what I saw, felt and heard. Yes, admittedly, this subject has emotion as its core, but I now wonder - what can we learn from an experience like this, as keen and creative defenders of keeping museum experiences alive.

I did not ‘identify’ personally before I left for that trip, but the experience was executed in a way that pulled me in so that it became personal. What stories, people, places and things are parts of, or the background of, museum exhibits that could help make them become personal for the viewer?  . . . Museums do a great job with videos, books, interpretation notes, additional information on websites, but I think we need to look deeper – maybe not at the vehicle, but the message.”

We’d love to hear what you think!  To comment, click below where it says how many individuals have commented on this post (e.g., “no comments,” “1 comment,” etc.).

Susie Wilkening is a Senior Consultant and Curator of Museum Audiences at Reach Advisors.  She is leading several phases of audience research for this project.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Why History?

When I was a (very) young director of a historical society in New York State, I often wrestled with the question of “why.”  Why did my historical society matter to my community?  Why, for that matter, is history important?  Why does it deserve financial support in a world beset with challenges? 

To be honest, I still struggle with these questions, and I still don’t have answers. 

For this project, we wanted to gain a better understanding of why regular museum goers and cultural consumers value history.  For most of the Connecticut Cultural Consumers in our panel, this was not a topic they had given much (or any) explicit thought to, despite their engagement with history and history museums.  But our thinking was if we could push them for some answers, we might gain a better understanding of the value of history and why it does matter to individuals and communities.

First off, to be clear, not all of our panelists were history buffs.  Some were, absolutely, but others were less enthusiastic (though none of them were anti-history).  And most related their interest in history to their prior history experiences, primarily during childhood and very early adulthood.

To begin with, history presented didactically, and very factually, by teachers turned off a good chunk of our panelists from history.  As Ginny shared with us:

“When I was a student I did not enjoy history because it was presented in terms of conquests and domination, of dates, of treaties, battleships, and shifting boundary lines.  But the boundary lines were always drawn on a map, never presented as things that shifted within people's hearts. We weren't given a lot of information about how ordinary people lived and how historical events or circumstances affected them.  It seemed that there were a lot of names and dates to memorize, but little to connect to as a human being . . .”

Or, as Kat shared in more dramatic language:

“’History’ has always conjured images of the three misogynist history teachers/professors I had the misfortune to encounter in high school and college  Boorish and banal, they made the subject as pedantic as possible; I memorized what was necessary and spat it back as required.”

Ouch.   And I fear how many of us nodded our heads, remembering a teacher or professor just like that

But what did happen in their lives that sparked an interest in history?  For many, it appeared to be family stories, a history “mentor” of some type (typically a parent or grandparent, but not always), and family trips to museums and historical sites.  Lanette encapsulated this phenomenon perfectly as she wrote:

“. . . many children are lucky enough to be guided at an early age by a ‘history mentor’ . . . I think that we as children, who spend our first years getting our bearing on just exactly where we are, appreciate the way these very special story-tellers expand the boundaries of our young lives.”

Lanette also brings up another concept, one that in our research throughout this and earlier projects has proven crucial:  stories and storytellers.  As Ginny, who we quoted first, wrapped up her comments with:

“It seems that I am interested in the personal and human aspects of history, and also in the stories of people who perhaps were somewhat invisible to the people who traditionally wrote the history books.”
For many of our panelists, especially women, historical fiction provided a gateway to the world of history.  Historical fiction provided a stark contrast to what they were likely encountering in school, and helped them become interested in the stories of history itself, particularly of women, children, domestic life, and other subjects that are not traditionally covered in the classroom.  
Our panelists also shared with us what they feel makes for an engaging history experience today.  The common themes were:
  • Multi-disciplinary.  History that includes art, music, foodways, even science and technology.
  • Original objects.  As mentioned in the last post, original objects lent themselves to a more immersive, authentic experience that also provides a tangible link to the past
  • Hands-on.  While most panelists viewed hands-on experiences in museums as being for children, when they talked about engaging history experiences today they still talked about having the opportunity to do something as well as see and understand things.  That something just has to be substantive.
  • Immersion.  The feeling that they had left their regular lives and were in a different time and place.  They felt this particularly strongly at historic sites.

These themes all together better enabled them to connect with the past, see its relevance today, and value history as an important tool for understanding who we are, where we come from, how our lives, communities, and societies evolved to what they are today, and for understanding each other.  After all, as many of the panelists wrote, history is “everywhere” and without understanding it, we can never understand others or learn from our mistakes.  

And it is that personal understanding, that ability to have the cultural literacy to understand where others come from, that empathy, that seems to be so important in the case for history.  So important that my next post will explore it a bit more deeply.

We’d love to hear what you think!  To comment, click below where it says how many individuals have commented on this post (e.g., “no comments,” “1 comment,” etc.).

Susie Wilkening is a Senior Consultant and Curator of Museum Audiences at Reach Advisors.  She is leading several phases of audience research for this project.