Museums = the Labor of Love? Not Quite

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Once again we find ourselves responding to an Alliance Labs post, this one titled The Labor of Love: Revaluing Museum Work, written by Emma Boast and Maddie Mott, and originally published on Medium, December 20, 2017 and republished by Alliance Labs this week. Here goes:

Dear Emma & Maddie:

Your article could be summed up in one sentence: Too often museums and heritage organizations put staff last, not first.  Leadership Matters is filled with pleas to boards and museum leaders to recognize the value of human capital. We’ve said it at least once a month for 36 months. It’s not buildings or collections that drive museums, it’s people.

A lot has happened since you originally wrote your piece. It’s odd to think that something written 15 months ago can already be,  if not out of date, then out of context. Today the world of work is beset with questions of #MeToo and sexual harassment, yet many things–particularly as they relate to women and work–are unchanged. If you need evidence for that, know that in 1974 a group of women known as the Women’s Caucus approached AAM with a list of grievances. With the exception of more women in museum leadership, most of the Caucus’s complaints are as true today as they were 44 years ago. And it is this Groundhog Day-quality of trying to make change at 35,000-plus organizations that is daunting. Museum employment is shackled by a legacy of gender inequity coupled with largely invisible race and class barriers.

But back to your piece. First, a caution about comparing museum work with academia. If by academia you mean a teaching position in a two or four-year institution, there are disgruntled overeducated employees in both sectors; however, the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) tells us that, as of May 2016, there were 1.3 million postsecondary teachers at U.S. colleges/universities, professional schools, and junior/community colleges earning a median salary of $75,430.  Among curators in museums and other institutions where education requirements and job responsibilities are similar (if not often the same) to postsecondary teachers, the BLS 2016 employment number stood at 11,170, earning a median salary of $58,910. While it’s common knowledge, particularly at big universities, that adjuncts are the indentured servants of the academic world, contrasting museums and academia isn’t an apples to apples comparison. And don’t forget that many postsecondary teachers are unionized — that can make a big salary/benefits difference.

Second, your comments on advancement: If you yearn to be a curator, and in fact become one, what does advancement look like? Might it mean moving to a leadership position where ultimately you manage people rather than care for things? Or does it mean moving to a larger organization where you manage a more dynamic collection as well as staff?

One thing we’ve tried to point out on these pages is that in a small field where, to date, an advanced degree is the ticket for admission, moving up frequently means a leadership position which many museum professionals are ill-prepared for. But perhaps the point is advancement means different things in different parts of the museum job sector. If you want to be an ED, the path is pretty clear; you hop scotch your way from smaller to bigger. But if you’re a curator or an educator, there is likely to be a fork in the road, where you decide whether advancement is more important than what brought you to the field in the beginning. Finally, is zig-zagging up the ladder as much of a problem for museum professionals as organizations failing to provide even the most minimal professional development opportunities? We think the answer is no. All staff need professional development.

Third, we fundamentally disagree with the notion that change can’t happen piecemeal–that no single museum can make change alone. In fact, that IS how it’s happening. Individual museums with forward-thinking leaders and boards create workplaces where employees prosper. As a result, those institutions flourish. Museums that pay pitiful wages, offer no benefits, and make serving on a jury easier than going on maternity leave, don’t attract and retain creative, driven staff. They do the opposite.

We support the changes you call for: eliminating degree requirements, investing in existing workers, and helping with work/life balance, but it’s hard to believe that two 21st-century women left closing the gender pay gap out of the equation. It’s a pervasive and ongoing problem, affecting all women, but women of color, and queer and transgender women disproportionately. Until the museum field pays its staff equitable and living wages, this will always be a job sector known for its lack of diversity and its abundance of quit-lit. Last, we believe that AAM Accreditation and AASLH StEPs should require their member organizations demonstrate they not only have HR policies, but how complaints and harassment are handled.

Thank you and Alliance Labs for keeping this conversation going. It is an important one. For the second time in less than a month, we’ll close by asking: Isn’t it time for a wage summit that would bring together big thinkers from inside and outside the museum field to tackle this problem?

Joan Baldwin

 

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If You Can’t Say It, We Can’t See It: Why Museum Vision Matters

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True confessions: This week I participated in a meeting where midway through a participant asked why our discussion mattered. The meeting’s over-arching topic was communication so the good news is this staff member felt relaxed and fearless enough to ask that kind of question. The bad news is that if even one person was confused enough to ask, the heart of the matter was lost.

So this is a note to all of you in museum leadership positions. You may have a bundle of good ideas rattling around in your head, but that isn’t vision. If you can’t say it, we can’t see it. In 2014 when we wrote Leadership Matters, Anne Ackerson interviewed Van Romans, President of the Fort Worth Museum of Science and History. Romans talked about drawing his vision (if you’re struggling with this, know that Romans once worked for Disney). His approach wasn’t that different from the Heath brothers “destination postcards”. (Hint: If you haven’t read Switch, put it on your list now.)

If you think about it, a postcard is a great metaphor. You’re on a trip. You send the card that says “Wish you were here.”  As museum leaders, that’s what you need to do:

  • Tell a story that’s compelling enough that staff can visualize the landscape once change is complete.
  • Make sure your story’s achievable.
  • Be clear about the journey you’ll take, and who needs to be on the bus.

Back to the meeting: we received an explanation, but it was mushy and unsatisfactory, as if our leader sent the image of a beach at sunset, but left the back blank. Don’t forget  vision provides focus. It’s hard for staff to nest in the weeds when you’re constantly moving forward.

Your vision should have some meat on its bones; it needs to provide the “why” for your program, department or museum. Telling staff things will be better if they do X, Y, Z isn’t enough. They’re adults. Let them in on your thinking. Trust them. And last, and perhaps, most importantly, be prepared for push-back. Change is hard, harder for some than for others. Test your ideas out, do your research, experiment alone and with staff. If you aren’t convinced, why should anyone else be?

Today more than ever museum leadership needs to pull itself out of lame mediocrity. Invent. Experiment. Fail. But for goodness sake have a vision that matters.

Joan Baldwin


What We’re Reading, Watching, and Listening To…

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Leadership Matters was on the road over President’s Day Weekend, heading south to the Small Museums Association meeting in College Park, Maryland. There, we talked about “Lessons from the Workplace: Women in the Museum.” We’ll be back next week to report on the audience reaction to issues of gender and the museum world, but in the meantime, here are some things that have captured our attention recently.

Books: Women & Power-Manifesto by Mary Beard. A short (128 pages), but blistering account of how women have been silenced throughout history. Don’t want to spend the money on the book? Here’s the backstory from the New Yorker: The Troll Slayer.

Managing People and Projects in Museums: Strategies that Work by Martha Morris. Morris rightly states that “The majority of work in museums today is project based.” So, why not combine the topics of projects, people, management, and leadership in one easily accessible book from a veteran museums studies educator? In addition to a whole chapter on museum leadership, Morris takes a deep dive into creating, managing and sustaining teams, including the team leader’s critical role.

Articles & Blogs: Not enough ethical challenges in your leadership life? Read this: The Family That Built An Empire of Pain

#MeToo and the nonprofit sector:  Vu Le is the fertile mind behind the blog, Nonprofit AF. If you’re not reading, you’ll want to make this one of your weekly must do’s. In the post we highlight here, Vu offers up his thoughts about creating safe environments for staff, volunteers, and community members. “We must examine our implicit and explicit biases,” Vu writes. “We need to confront one another and point out jokes and actions that are sexist. And we need to do our own research and read up on all these issues and not burden our women colleagues with the emotional and other labor to enlighten us.”

In this Harvard Business Review article, the fastest path to the top of an organization usually isn’t a straight shot. The authors rely on extensive research to explore why big, bodacious, and bold may feel counterintuitive sometimes, but are usually the keys to CEO success.

The Women’s Agenda is a regular shot of women’s empowerment reading from across the big pond (Australia, that is). News and research is gathered from around the globe on women in leadership, politics, business, and life.

Are Orchestras Culturally Specific? Jesse Rosen, League of American Orchestras president and CEO, recently led a discussion with four thought leaders about orchestras and cultural equity. From the intro: “While diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) are complex topics that require thoughtful consideration and strategic action, the concept of equity can be especially nuanced. It challenges us to fundamentally reconsider what it means for orchestras to play a constructive and responsive role in their communities—a role that acknowledges and responds to past and current inequities in the arts and in society.” Museums and other cultural institutions, take note.

Video: This video features CharityChannel’s Stephen Nill and members of the Governance Affinity Group of the Alliance of Nonprofit Management discussing their research on nonprofit board leadership. The discussion centers around a ground-breaking survey representing the second phase of research on this topic. The first phase, the widely acclaimed Voices of Board Chairs study, investigated the roles and preparation of board chairs, surveying 635 board chairs across the United States. Not only is there very little research that investigates nonprofit board chair leadership, but there is even less about other pivotal leadership roles within boards such as the officers and committee chairs. 

You may think there’s not much connection between endurance running and museum leadership, but perhaps there is. Take a look at this video on how to run a 100 miles. Perhaps there are some parallels?

Sound: A big thank you to podcaster Hannah Hethmon who assembled all the museum-related podcasts in a handy link for us all: https://hhethmon.com/2017/12/31/a-complete-list-of-podcasts-for-museum-professionals/


The Silent Treatment (and what to do about it)

Silent Treatment

Before we begin this week, let me express our profound sadness in light of the Berkshire Museum agreement with the Massachusetts Attorney General’s office. While it is wonderful that Norman Rockwell’s Shuffleton’s Barbershop will remain in the public domain, the decision seems to leave the door open for any museum to use its collection as a trust fund. If a board expresses fundraising fatigue or fear that a major campaign will not make its goal, it can always look for something to sell. So those of you who are museum leaders, think carefully about how you will respond when a board member’s response to a big capital expense is, “Can’t we just sell our Frederick Church painting?” What will you say? Is referencing AAM’s ethical standards enough? Was it ever enough? Or was it the last leftover from the age of museum patriarchy and gentle person’s agreements?

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Apart from deaccessioning, we wanted to talk about executive directors who don’t use their words. We’ve written here about directors who can’t stop talking, but this is the opposite. To be clear, this isn’t a judgement on personality. Some directors are not Chatty Cathys. This is about leaders using silence with negative effects.

Think that doesn’t happen? Were you never in middle school or worse in a relationship where someone stopped speaking to you? This is the workplace equivalent of that. Sometimes this happens when new leaders worry about separating emotions from words. They don’t want to yell. Women, in particular, don’t want to yell because studies show us that an angry woman at work is judged much more harshly than an angry man. As a result, they don’t say anything. Or worse, a leader approaches staff weeks after something went badly, and by then it’s too late.

So silence is used to guard against anger and emotion, but there are also leaders who use silence to ostracize staff. They forget to tell them things; they don’t read weekly reports or share important news. As a result, staff find it increasingly hard to complete tasks because museum workplaces run on information. If a major benefactor is waffling, but no one tells you; if there are four candidates for the curator’s position not three, and so on. Incomplete tasks mean poor progress for individuals, departments and museums as a whole.

But for a staff member who tries to explain what’s going on, silence is a deviously tricky weapon. It is after all a sin of omission. No one yelled at you, no one’s overtly hurt you, so what’s the big deal? In fact, silence, coupled with ostracism is the polite form of workplace bullying, and far more common than bullying itself. A 2014 survey by the University of British Columbia of American workers, found that ostracism is far more common (71%) than harassment which was experienced by only 29%.

So what should you do?

  1. Marshal your facts. Are you the only one who’s being left out and not spoken to? Admittedly, it’s cold comfort, but at least it’s not you.
  2. Is there a work colleague you can speak with who might shed some light on your departmental or museum work culture? Are you not being spoken to because you’re not being noticed or is it more deliberate than that?
  3. Is this something only you notice or has your work colleague observed it too? If not, don’t think you’re being gaslighted. Your work experience may not be theirs.
  4. Channel your inner Michelle Obama and “When they go low, you go high.” Put your game face on. Stay positive in public. Be prepared. Speak up when you know something. Don’t let ostracism and silence lead you to doubt yourself. That said, keep a log describing when and how the silent treatment occurred.
  5. The last, and the hardest step is to confront the person. If it’s your ED, you may want to go to HR first, but don’t be surprised if you don’t get much of a reaction. HR sometimes doesn’t realize how hard the silent treatment can be. If it’s a co-worker who’s shut you out, be prepared for the fact that she may not admit what’s happened. Plan, but don’t script your conversation, and make sure your goal is to come away with a resolution.

It’s February. If there ever was a month where we need our words, it’s this one. Use them. Communication builds trust, trust builds loyalty. Together they create a hothouse of creativity and a happy staff.

Joan Baldwin


What the Deaccessioning Dilemma Says About Museum Leadership

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It’s been six months since the Berkshire Museum in Pittsfield, MA announced its New Vision , and then dropped the other shoe, telling the public that the cost of the new vision would be underwritten by selling 40 paintings from its collection. And for more than 182 days, the museum world has been in an uproar. If you played a word association game, and the words were Berkshire Museum, way too many of us would respond with “deaccessioning.”

We wrote about the  controversy months ago when it seemed the sale was imminent. Since last summer, deaccessioning’s become a new word, something parsed by journalists and art critics alike who tried to explain that even though the use of proceeds from deaccessioned items is not a law (except for New York State Education Department-chartered museums and historical societies) or even a rule, it’s a professional standard museums are expected to live by and with. And while Nina Simon may be correct, that use of proceeds from deaccessioning is an inflexible and antiquated standard, for those museums that are collecting institutions, it functions like the nuclear deterrent, holding big and small institutions in check, a necessary yet Faustian gamble that collecting institutions buy into. And here’s the logic behind that antiquated standard: Museums are non-profit organizations because they hold property (often collections) in the public trust. If those same collections can be monetized at the drop of a hat, where’s the trust?

As a museum, your non-profit status is, in part, secured by your organization’s willingness to stand behind your mission, and in doing so, make objects, art and the like available to all of us. So like Nina Simon, we believe  the Berkshire Museum controversy is not an issue solely about deaccessioning. It’s about leadership. Why? Because the Museum’s deaccessioning is a by-product of a series of decisions made by the board and director. It’s the story of a local, regional and national community who responded negatively, not only to the proposed sale, but also to the move toward a museum far more committed to science and technology than to art and the gentle “Window on the World” concept of its founder.

Granted, we only know what the Berkshire Museum has shared on its website, but when organizations anticipate change they examine the future like master chess players, thinking through as best as they are able, all the consequences of their actions. How did the the Museum’s 21-member board and its director get this so wrong, producing such a firestorm of antipathy?

If you read the Berkshire Museum’s timeline for its Master Planning Process, you discover that together with Hancock Shaker Village, it hired TDC, a Boston-based firm specializing in non-profit management three years ago. It was TDC’s 2015 report that stipulated “significant need for capitalization in order to provide sufficient endowment for the Berkshire Museum to support its operations.” (Side note: Among the eight principals on TDC’s website, not one has an arts background, much less a museum background.) And it was TDC who hired Experience Design out of Providence, RI, “to help identify scenarios for the Museum’s future and produce an interpretive plan for the scenario ultimately selected.” Again, we don’t know the real story, only what the Museum chooses to write, but based on its website, there is an odd distance between the Museum and its community. And neither the New Vision nor the Planning Process Timeline express much joy or love for the elegant Renaissance Revival building or its contents.

So what lessons can we learn from this as yet unfinished drama? Here are five thoughts for board members and directors to consider. We don’t know whether they apply in this situation, but we offer them nonetheless.

Being a board member–and some would argue being a museum director–is about service, collective work to safeguard, interpret, collections, ideas and living things for and with the public. Lesson 1: Know your institution. If the only places you know how to find at your museum are the board room and the restroom, you don’t know enough. Learn the campus. Find the furnace room. See collections storage. Know whether exhibit design is done on site or somewhere else. Know the staff by name. Know the important pieces, places, and their stories.

Remember in serving and protecting the institution, you serve your community which may be local, regional, national or international.  Lesson 2: Know your community. If you have questions about who participates at your museum, ask them. Remember, you need to know three things: Who your community is as a whole; who comes to your museum and most importantly who doesn’t. If you are considering a change, will it serve those who love your organization and make those who are indifferent into friends? If not, why not?

Don’t believe that an absence of affirmation means your community doesn’t care. To quote Joni Mitchel sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone. Lesson 3: Be a good communicator. Individually, but most importantly collectively, boards need to communicate clearly and well. If you’re on the board, and you don’t understand something, how will the public understand? Just because a board operates as a collective body doesn’t mean it can’t (and shouldn’t) engage in vigorous discussion around change.

Trust is something that’s earned. Lesson 4: Trust your community. To trust them, you have to know them. (See Lesson 2). That means if you hire consultants on a planning project, you have to provide them with every bit of knowledge you have, and let the chips fall where they may. It means if your hope to change your institution depends on the sale of much loved pieces, you need to say that.

And the last lesson? If you’re asked to serve on a board, believe in the institution that’s asking. Anything else is like buying a house you intend to tear down.

Tell us how your board faces the big decisions.

Joan Baldwin

 

 

 


5 Pieces of Advice for When You’re Not the Official Leader

Team leader

This is a letter to museum folk who are not leaders. It’s a letter to those of you who work on teams, in departments of one or many, who carry out the hopes and dreams of someone else. It’s also a bit of an apology. Many writers, bloggers and TedTalkers describe leading from anywhere. They write (and talk) as if leading from the back of the room were the easiest thing in the world. We’ve even been guilty of saying it a few times here.

While we believe it’s possible to always behave like a leader, we want to acknowledge the difficulty of having responsibility–sometimes huge responsibility–but no authority. And we want to note that in the world of bad museum leadership, a position that is all responsibility and no authority, particularly topped with gender and generational differences, is its own special hell.

What’s the difference between authority and responsibility? A person with authority is someone who has the power, resources or status to get stuff done. An individual with more responsibility than authority is a person who bears the consequences of someone else’s actions. Most leaders wear both hats, and it’s a tricky business. Understanding that leadership is about interdependence not authority is something it takes new museum directors time to figure out. While they learn, their staff sometimes suffers. What should you do to maintain your sanity if you work for someone who believes being a museum director is about making her staff carry out her wishes? Well you could quit, but let’s suppose you don’t want to.

  1. Don’t get caught in the blame game: It’s easy to lash out when you feel powerless, and to be honest, it sometimes makes you feel better. Save the sassy comments for after work with friends you trust. Instead, figure out whether you can move forward with whatever you’re charged with on your own. Make sure you understand your own behavior: Are you someone who needs the metaphorical gold sticker to know you’re doing a good job? In other words, do you really need the ED or does talking to her just make you feel better?
  2. Your ED, supervisor, board won’t listen to you: Look around. Who are they  listening to? What qualities do the people being heard have? Can you do what they do? Have you been clear about what it is you need, and more importantly, the consequences if you don’t get it?
  3. You are totally overwhelmed by the 8 million things you’ve been asked to do, none of which were even remotely on your radar in grad school, nor do they even have much to do with American material culture which is why you got a master’s degree in the first place: Break your list into parts. Pick off the low hanging fruit before moving to something more complex. Don’t be the lone ranger. Work with your team or colleagues to conquer what’s more difficult, and then be the person who brings in something delectable to celebrate and say thank you.
  4. Working with your colleagues has all the appeal of a middle school group project. Once again, you feel like you’re carrying the weakest member of the team. And sometimes you will be, but don’t assume everyone approaches work like you do. Try and figure out your colleague’s work styles and play to their strengths. Whoever coined the phrase “You get more bees with honey than vinegar,” was not kidding.
  5. If one more person tells you that you’ll understand whatever it is when you’ve got more experience or takes your idea, rephrases it and gets all the credit, you’re going to scream. You know your own work culture best, but if smiling and suffering silently has gotten you no where, you can challenge people. Be polite, but prove you know what you’re talking about. Remember the first step in getting woke is getting woke. And perhaps, most importantly, if you see this happening to another colleague, step in and help her out.

So…we’re not saying it’s easy, and we are here to acknowledge that in the course of every museum career you will encounter weak or authoritarian leadership. But don’t let it stop you. Keep a list of your successes and read it over when you’re having a dark day. Use your words. No ED can intuit what’s going on in your head. Be clear about the challenges and risks you see ahead, and ask for help. When you talk to your ED, make it about work, not about your unhappiness. Don’t wait for permission for every single step. Have a plan for the project ahead, get it approved, and move forward.

Tell us how you deal with the authority/responsibility dilemma.

Joan Baldwin


So What Does Your Museum Stand For?

Core values

This blog is starting to sound like a broken record. For more times than we can count, we’ve advocated for museums, heritage organizations, and museum service organizations to be value-driven entities. And what do we mean by that? We mean organizations willing to stand up for their beliefs.

Remember the T-shirt that says “Museums are not neutral”? Maybe you wear it proudly, maybe not. If it’s not a slogan you support, is that because you believe leadership is separate from your own beliefs and practices? How does that even work? Is caring about and for objects, buildings, art or living things a value system? No. Collecting, preserving and interpreting might be what your organization does; it’s not what it believes. So what does your organization stand for?

Our beliefs follow us to work. They influence hiring, board and volunteer selection. They weave their way into job descriptions. They affect curatorial decisions, programming and communications. Beliefs can keep staff inured in their own privilege, preventing them from walking in another’s shoes. And when we allow personal beliefs to influence organizational culture negatively, it’s called bias. Like, when a museum hires a diverse team, and then expresses consternation when its ideas land outside the traditional, patriarchal, often white organizational bubble. This shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, you don’t hire a diverse staff just for the photo ops do you? Remember, unchecked bias and absent values can cripple museums and heritage organizations, not to mention the staff they harm.

Once again we’d like to suggest that as leaders, your self-awareness affects not only your ability to understand others, but through you, your museum’s ability to adapt and change. You begin by knowing yourself, and knowing what you believe in. If you are an open, warm, empathetic person, who leads with her staff rather than in front of it, you model core values. Whether you acknowledge it or not, those values influence your museum’s decision making.

Suppose you have a department chair who doesn’t suffer fools lightly. The good news is her staff constantly pushes itself to meet her expectations. The bad news is she’s demeaning and disrespectful when things don’t go her way. You find her staff pacing far from their offices, trying to shake off the latest slights. Her department is famous for resignations that cost your museum money and reputation. Worse, because she doesn’t lead with, she’s alienated the very people who might advise her to behave differently. Clearly if you’re the ED, it’s time for a conversation. How could a museum values  statement underpin this conversation? Would it be easier to ask for change based on a shared set of values that include equity, empathy and understanding?

Perhaps a values discussion and the creation of an organizational values statement is on your 2018 to-do list. Don’t put it off. Sit down with your staff and board, and talk about what matters. Do environmental issues top the list? Then how do your museum’s policies and practices reflect environmental preservation? How about gender equity? Is that something you, your staff and board believe in? What changes can you make in governance, HR, exhibitions and programming that reflect an equitable workplace?  Does your board and staff believe history has a role in changing communities? How should that resonate in your workplace? Say what you mean. Write it down. Then stand behind it.

An organizational values statement may seem like just one more piece of woo-woo fluff that bloggers and self-help books throw at you in the midst of real life riddled with budget shortfalls, rising health insurance, deaccession proposals, and staff turnover. Maybe. But we suggest that in times of crisis, it’s values that hold organizations together.

Joan Baldwin