Happy New Year to everyone. We’d like to begin by thanking all of you, longtime readers and those who’ve just discovered us for your support, passion, and encouragement. Know you’re in good company. Leadership Matters had nearly 50,000 views in 2017–not our best year, that was 2016–but we’ll take it. While most of our readers come from the United States, people from 124 countries read this blog which tells us that questions and issues regarding museum leadership are universal. Our regular readers, garnered from WordPress, Instagram, and Facebook number 1,200. Building on 2016’s unbelievably popular post, Museums and the Salary Conundrum, 2017’s most read post was Are Low Museum Salaries Just a Money Problem? It seems there’s a theme here.
So now, suddenly, it’s a new year, and in a spirit of hope, here are our wishes–a baker’s dozen–for 2018.
- Museums develop and use equity and diversity policies to guide recruitment and conduct. AAM requires equity and diversity policies for all Accredited museums. AASLH requires equity and diversity policies as a StEPs standard. Need some help to jumpstart policy development? The Association of Science and Technology Centers’ Diversity Toolkit can be the place to start.
- That museums stop kicking the can down the road and address the wage gap now. You’ll find good information at the Gender Equity in Museums Movement (GEMM) website.
- More resource pooling or institutional merging among museums across discipline and geographic boundaries to increase impact and strengthen sustainability. Here’s a good starting resource from AAM.
- That museums remember that empathy isn’t just for the visiting public; it belongs in the workplace and boardroom too. The Empathetic Museum’s Maturity Model is a self-assessment that can help your institution better reflect and represent the values of their communities.
- Museums become recognized leaders in workplace reform, emphasizing workers and volunteers as valuable and valued human assets. Looking for ways to begin difficult conversations at work around equity, diversity, inclusivity? This article may help.
- That museums remember that no matter how carefully they construct their public face, boards, staff, and volunteers need to check bias at the door, and work to create open, authentic environments. Here’s a playlist of TED talks to share at work.
- Museums lead the way for nonprofits by becoming places where women DON’T experience sexual harassment. That means supporting women not just punishing men. Need some support? This one-pager from 9-5 might help.
- Museums lead the nonprofit world in board education and development.
- All museums articulate their organizational values and figure out tangible ways to live by them….every day. Doing so will keep them agile and responsive. The resources here and here will get you thinking about organizational culture and values.
- Museum boards commit to sharpening their governance knowledge; museum staff commit to sharpening their creative edge. Together, boards and staff commit their museums to becoming active and transparent learning organizations. What will you do to create the change that will make 2018 better?
- Museums emphasize building endowment as a key strategy leading to long-term financial stability. Coupled with community building grounded in a dynamic and relevant mission, the result is a museum at its most resilient in the face of economic and social change. This article from the Nonprofit Quarterly offers an excellent overview about what an endowment is and underscores the importance of organizational commitment to building and maintaining one.
- Museums make time to hit pause, to plan, to think big, fight mediocrity and encourage community engagement. Consider how you will nourish creativity among your staff.
- Museums commit to an open, fair, equitable hiring process; that they cease posting jobs without posting salaries, and that they stop insisting on a graduate degree for every position. Nicole Ivy’s article starts the conversation.
And don’t let the wishes end here. Let us know what you care about and what you wish for in 2018, and if you’d like to write a guest post, send us a writing sample, and a possible topic.
Anne Ackerson & Joan Baldwin
This week we read two articles: Whiteness and Museum Education by Hannah Heller, and published on the blog Incluseum, and Does Art Breed Empathy? on Artnet News. If you missed them, read them because they ask us to address the humanity in what we do.
Heller, a museum educator and a doctoral student, wrote a scholarly article on the risks and problems when white museum explainers bring baggage, bias, and presumption to the gallery floor. While her sample is admittedly small, the examples she offers are telling, and they point out the complex hierarchy of language, symbol, color, and subject that art museum volunteers, staff, and curators interpret for the public.
The second piece is about the Minneapolis Institute of Art (MIA), which just received a $750,000 grant from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation to investigate “how to spark and nurture empathy through the visual arts.” The article quotes MIA’s director, Kaywin Feldman, who says, “One of the most meaningful aspects of this encounter is the awareness it can awaken of a common humanity—an immediate sense of connection between the viewer and someone who may have lived in a very different time and place.”
After reading both pieces, here is our plea: Clearly, at least among art museum folk, there is a groundswell that for too long museums have been too white, too hierarchical, too biased. They are long overdue for change, and that’s a good thing, right? We also know without respect, compassion and empathy, a diverse audience is window dressing not community. And community is what we want, right? But here’s our question: What good is building community with visitors if we don’t begin with the museum workplace? Without internal change don’t museums become the organizational equivalent of do as I say, not as I do?
This is not a criticism of MIA or indeed of any other museum that’s making its collections and programming more empathetic. But how can any staff member unlearn bias or move from sympathy to empathy as Heller suggests unless that’s behavior that’s asked for in the hiring process, around the staff table, and most particularly, around the board table? Heller quotes Ruth Frankenberg, writing that too often whiteness is defined as what I’m not, that whatever isn’t known or familiar is tinged with differentness, with not following a mysterious set of rules that because you’re not white you don’t understand. But don’t museums need to articulate what they stand for? Not just the endless collect, preserve and care for line, but actually what kind of organizations they are?
Maybe you lead or work in an organization that knows itself and is clear about its values. But what if you don’t? Imagine you’re interviewing someone for a new position. If you walk in the interview room and meet an openly transgender candidate are you confident you and your staff can check your bias at the door? If so, that’s great because that’s not the case in the majority of American workplaces. What if the candidate is female, brown skinned and overweight? Studies show us that candidate, if she were hired at all, would receive a significantly lower salary than her tall, fit, white, male counterpart. How does your organization make situations like these equitable? Is it possible that the museum-going public aren’t the only people we need to stifle our biases and prejudices around? How about our colleagues?
Our hope, as we come to the end of another year, is that museums who want to address questions of race, gender, class and bias, start from the center first, and that museum leaders lead the charge. If your staff knows that empathy and equity are organizational values, might that change how they deal with each other and the public? As a leader, do you know your biases? Do you lead a value-driven organization? Are you open about change? Is your museum such a friendly, creative place that no matter who comes in the door, they wish they could work there?
Leadership Matters will be away until January 2 when we will return with some wishes for the museum world in the New Year. In the meantime, much happiness for all our readers during the holidays,
Joan Baldwin & Anne Ackerson
If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down. David Foster Wallace, “This is Water,” a commencement speech delivered at Kenyon College, May 2005
Over the past month, we’ve spoken to several people who are more than miserable in their jobs. We’ve also read tales of workplace misery on Facebook where individuals question how they should move forward in the wake of situations that redefine the phrase, “You can’t make this stuff up.”
Some of these situations are truly horrific, some frustrating, and some just examples of a museum worker’s really, really bad day. But one thing seems to be universal: Everybody tells the complainer to quit, to leave, to find the nirvana job. These comments come in a chorus. Some are couched in concern for the worker’s mental health as in “this can’t be healthy for you.” Some are little red flags demonstrating the listeners have heard enough as in, “I can give you some phone numbers if you think you’re ready to move on.” And some respond only to the technical details of whatever workplace horror the story outlines.
Maybe there’s another way though. Maybe since most of us aren’t social workers, psychologists, or HR people, maybe, in Post-Weinstein America, we ought to respond a little differently. First, remember you’re the listener or, in the case of Facebook, the reader. That’s your job. Just listen. Next, establish if the person feels safe at work. If they do not, are they experiencing sexual harassment, workplace bullying or simply horrific leadership? If they are not safe, if they are bullied or harassed online or in the workplace, a site like AAUW or the EEOC (and there are many more) can help with filing a harassment claim.
Part of listening–regardless of the nature of the individual narrative–is that leaving one job and getting another isn’t as simple as ordering on Amazon. Leave aside the competitive nature of today’s museum job search, there are also questions of partners, partner’s jobs, real estate, children, extended family, and love of place that tie us all to our positions. While walking out may be a healthy choice, it’s not always possible, and brings with it its own set of stresses, not least of which is no pay. So remember, advocating quitting is not always helpful.
And don’t let the person narrating a workplace complaint believe that because they work for the Who-Knows-Where-Historical-Society that this is business as usual, that non-profits aren’t subject to employment law. They are. Yes, it may require more courage or at least a special brand of courage to take on the big wigs in a small community as opposed to walking into HR at a big museum, but the law still applies.
Last, remember that sometimes humans just need to be heard. They need to know they’re valued. Channel your inner grandma: Smile and look people in the eye. If you can’t say anything nice, be quiet. Be kind. Be respectful. Say thank you. Model the place you want to work in, and build a better museum work culture.
We begin this week’s post with a note of hope and encouragement for our friends and colleagues at museums and heritage organizations in and around Houston, Texas. Museum leadership can be challenging in the best of times, but this disaster surely tested all of you. Our thoughts and prayers are with you, your families, and the organizations and collections you serve and protect. And for our readers, know that both AAM and AASLH have disaster advice on their web pages. In addition, AASLH is actively collecting for storm relief online and at its annual meeting that begins Wednesday. Last, if you haven’t reviewed your site disaster plan recently, now might be a good time. If there ever were a metaphor for what leaders do, it’s a disaster plan. Leaders always need to be prepared for whatever comes next.
This week my organization spent time discussing issues of gender in order to prepare the community to support transgender and gender non-conforming students. We were lucky enough to have Mb Duckett Ireland, Choate School’s Diversity Education Chair speak to us. Late in the talk Mb dropped a line about intention versus impact. It stuck with me, and I thought about it the rest of the week.
There are so many moments when leaders intend one thing, and the result is the opposite. If you asked me to sum up everything I’ve read about intention vs. impact since Mb’s talk, it would be: It’s not about you; it’s about the person you’re talking to.
Too often we assume that positions of leadership automatically confer brains, kindness and respect. Sadly, as all of us who’ve worked for lousy leaders know, there’s nothing automatic about it. But back to intent vs. impact. Imagine, you are a museum leader, and you make a comment to a staff member. You mean it in a jovial, friendly way, but as soon as the words are out of your mouth, you realize something’s happening. And it’s not good. What do you do? Well, too often we retreat, we try to pretend whatever happened didn’t happen and move through the rest of the day. And if we’re confronted with what happened, we rarely sit right down in the space that makes us uncomfortable and say, holy smokes I was rude. We don’t engage because it’s uncomfortable to say “I messed up,” and because we’re afraid of making a bad situation worse.
One of the things the privileged (and all of us who are leaders, and therefore deciders occupy a place of privilege to a greater or lesser degree) don’t seem to realize is that tiny comments, assumptions, jokes and judgments aggregate. And it really doesn’t matter if you were “just trying to be funny” if on the receiving end it’s not funny but hurtful. Your intentions may be good, but your impact biased. And it’s your impact that packs a punch especially when later instead of apologizing you try to explain you’re not a misogynist or a racist or both.
As leaders we not only provide the vision and roadmap for our organizations, we model a way of being. Acknowledging that staff members have different identities, and working to create equitable workspaces is something all museum leaders need to do. We all mess up occasionally. When that happens do what needs to be done: Admit your mistake; connect with the person you’ve hurt or offended; reach out. You’ll find you build a team not a hierarchy.
I have a colleague who is forthright, direct, sometimes foul-mouthed, and an incredibly dedicated and hard worker. She will also walk your dog if you’re on crutches, babysit so you can have a date night, or bring you food if you get Lyme disease. And no, she’s not perfect. Recently I commented on her new boss–a change that happened this summer–and wished her well. Her new leader is female, the outgoing one male. Knowing the former relationship was difficult, I said something to that effect. Her response? “Yes, but I enabled a lot of his behavior.”
That comment stopped me in my tracks. I asked what she meant. Her response? “Often I couldn’t wait for him to complete a project, write a letter, whatever, so I would make the work happen.” As a result, he looked good. The work got done. The way she explained it, the lightning pace of today’s workplace coupled with the power imbalance of leader to staff member, made discussing what, for her, was a challenging work situation difficult. In her mind, work trumped her frustrations so she she made sure it was completed smoothly, and moved forward. The only problem? Without time to press pause and talk things out, she was angry about doing his work and hers.
Remind you of anything? Maybe you’re an enabler: Trapped in a situation where there is no possible way explain to your boss how often she lets others (like you) pick up the slack. Or maybe you’re the leader. Museum leadership in 2017 is a multi-layered endeavor. The pace is fast, the news/social media cycle relentless. Leaders need a host of skills to move museums or heritage organizations from mediocre to majestic. We would argue, though, that the chief skill should be relationship building. Strong relationships build trust. Trust builds teams, and strong workplace teams change organizations.
We like to think a leader who’s observant about work relationships–whether through listening or watching–would have quashed a situation like the one described at the beginning of this post. Teams flourish because every member has a role to play, and in happy workplaces, staff are willing and able to cover for one another if there’s a need. Museum leaders, however, should never confuse support given willingly to help a colleague with an absence of effort that means other staff members cover or enable for someone who’s not getting the job done. And they need to be self-aware enough, to see that these situations apply to them as well as folks in external affairs, communications or education.
We’ve said it a lot in these pages: leaders need to make a habit of self-reflection–daily, weekly–whatever works. While walking the dog, sitting on the subway, jogging, or watching the sunset with a glass of wine, do a check-in. Go over what happened that day or that week. This isn’t mea culpa time. This is so you’ll know where the dragons are as you chart the course for the next day or week. And sometimes the dragons are you. Be a big enough person to recognize your own failings and self-correct.