If all was normal in the world, I would have spent the better part of the last week in Atlanta attending the National Council on Public Conference, taking in local museums and historical sites, and learning more about the craft of public history from amazing professionals from across the country. Instead, we as a nation (for the most part) are staying at home and helping to flatten the curve, reduce the number of cases, and staying within our health care professionals’ capacities. My plans have shifted entirely, and now I’m facing the decision to ride it out in Ohio with my family or return to my apartment in St. Louis.
These are unprecedented measures in modern America and NCPH had to take unprecedented steps in canceling the in-person conference and transitioning to virtual meetings. Unfortunately, I missed the vast majority of the NCPH programming as I helped my little brother move out of his college dorm and I packed up enough of my life to last for as little as spring break or as much as several months. My poor cat also has been uprooted and is now forced to live with three large, slobbery dogs.
Luckily, I was still able to find and listen to the Presidential Address, given by outgoing NCPH president Marla Miller. For the first time in NCPH’s history, this address was given in podcast form, rather than from a podium. In a time where we are so focused on the present moment, Miller gives us a reminder to look to the long arc of history and the long arc of our impact on our audiences in our work as public historians and museum professionals.
Evaluation is a necessary part of any public facing project. Donors, investors, and board members rely on metrics to show that their input and investment has been put to good use and has made an impact in the community. However, their is no good or cost-effective way to measure long term impacts on visitors/the public’s life after they come in contact with a museum or other public history project.However, these are the deepest impacts. As Miller says, “public history is a long game.”
Anecdotally, we know that individual exhibits, documents, and artifacts can inspire people to go into history or just simply stick with people through their lives. For me, it was an exhibit at the Missouri History Museum, created by my now supervisor Andrew Wanko, called “A Walk in 1875 St. Louis.” I loved the attention to detail and the focus on the everyday lives of everyday St. Louisans. I was a freshman in college when that exhibit opened and it reinforced my desire to work in the museum field. I wanted to make exhibits like that.
Miller says that these seeds are much like the seeds of the white pine, which can survive underground for decades and in the meantime interact with other seeds to create new life. Our work, our seeds, interact with the public’s experiences and create an impact in their lives. Though the impacts of our work is often invisible or untraceable, our work is not unimportant. Miller advises us to look for seeds for ours to interact with, issues of common concern that can take root together.
In this present time of uncertainty, we must keep our eye on the future. Our efforts in bringing stories to the public now may plant seeds into the future. When we can’t track visitors coming through the doors, we can still make an impact on our community. We’re living in interesting times and it’s up to us to come up with innovative solutions to plant those seeds and get in touch with our audiences.
MUSEUM MUSINGS 