Texas may not have originated the phrase “Go big or go home,” but it could have. It’s a big place, bigger than France. Last week Leadership Matters traveled to Houston for the Texas Association of Museums (TAM) annual meeting where we keynoted day two for 550 museum folk from all corners of the state.
None of that is particularly unusual. Both of us speak fairly frequently on either leadership or gender or both. What was odd (and gratifying) was that out of the approximately 65 state, regional or national museum service organizations, it is TAM who chose to make gender equity the focus of its 2018 meeting.
Here on the East Coast, mention Texas and you may get some eye rolling. Folks will tell you that Austin has great music or food, but then conversation may turn to the fact that it’s a place you’re allowed to carry your holstered handgun out in public. Then there’s the weather (hot), and the fact that it might not have any trees. And maybe in the minds of the Metropolitan Museum-going public, it might not have any museums. But it does. Big ones, uber-wealthy ones, tiny historic sites, and major history museums, all nurtured and supported by TAM. And it is the TAM board and staff who chose this year–the year of Post-Weinstein, #MeToo, and #TimesUp– to make gender equity the centerpiece of its meeting. (In 2017 TAM also launched a Diversity, Equity and Inclusion series headlined by Chris Taylor from the Minnesota Historical Society so this isn’t its first foray into challenging workplace issues.)
How bold was this gender equity focus? Pretty bold. Bigger organizations might shy away. Gender equity–despite its relentless focus on closing the pay gap, a gap that according to the American Association of University Women (AAUW) is dramatically worse for Native and Latina women than for black women, and certainly for Asian or white women–has been the after-thought problem in the museum world for 45 years. And this in a year when data shows us that nationally 81-percent of women and 43-percent of men experience sexual harassment in their lifetimes. Some might say that the museum world, with its 46.7-percent female workforce, should sit up and pay attention. That’s how TAM felt, and that’s how we found ourselves speaking to a lunch-time audience in the Hyatt Regency.
Before we went, we launched a survey on Facebook to confirm (or bust) what we believed about gender equity in museums versus working in other job sectors in the United States. As of Sunday 625 humans had taken part. The survey is still open if you’d like to participate. What did we learn? That 62-percent of those folks say they’ve been discriminated against because of their gender. And more alarmingly, that 49-percent have experienced verbal and/or sexual harassment at work. What does this say about the museum field? Haven’t you all had enough? Texas is taking care of its own, but isn’t it time for more museum service agencies to follow the TAM model and stand up and say gender inequity is a bad thing?
Gender inequity is insidious. For women of color, it means a workplace that mixes racial bias with gender bias in ways that multiply the occasions for hurt, harassment and EEOC complaints. We’ll leave you with the same quote that ended our TAM speech. It’s from a participant in our recent survey who wrote,
“I feel like a second-class citizen.”
No one working in the museum world should feel like that. We have the power to make change. Let’s do it.
Joan Baldwin & Anne Ackerson
April 10 was equal pay day for white women working in the museum world. That’s the day they make as much as their white, male colleagues did in 2017. For women of color, equal pay day arrives in August, for Native women, September, and almost 6 months later Latina women finally catch up. If you are an Asian woman, you arrive at equal pay day a month ahead of your white female colleagues.
We’re reporting on all of this, not to make you feel discouraged although it undoubtedly will. We understand that for many people–including many women–the whole topic of gender is exhausting. You are not alone.
Asked whether she was contemptuous of smart women, writer Susan Sontag snapped, “Where did you get that idea? At least half the intelligent people I’ve known have been women. I couldn’t be more sympathetic to women’s problems or more angry about women’s condition. But the anger is so old that in the day-to-day sense I don’t feel it. It seems to me the oldest story in the world.”
For many, it’s this sense of being on an endless loop, playing out decade after decade, that annoys some and discourages others. We’ve heard it all before. We’ve lived it. It makes us cranky, but then we feel like it’s time to let go and get on with life. And it’s difficult to sustain hope when women are frequently seen as a huge Oliver Twist chorus of “Please sir, I want some more.”
Except for museum staff who work for municipal, state or federal organizations where salaries are transparent and public, most of us have no idea whether a particular museum or heritage organization has closed its pay gap. Many institutions actively discourage conversation around salaries, and for a host of reasons, employees comply and avoid talking about how much they make. So unless you accidentally see the CFO’s salary spreadsheet or a colleague’s letter of agreement, you probably don’t know much.
The exception? If you’re the museum director. Then you likely have access to a lot of information, and precious few excuses for an inequitable pay scale. When was the last time you tracked salaries by race and gender for your board? How uncomfortable would it make you, knowing your organization pays a Latina woman significantly less than a black woman, and exponentially less than a white man all for doing the same job?
We hope you are uncomfortable because closing the pay gap is a problem the museum world can solve. And making the pay gap disappear is something any museum or heritage organization should be proud of. So here are five ways to make change so that in April 2019 when Equal Pay Day rolls around again, you can say “Done and dusted” and turn your attention elsewhere.
- If you’re an individual offered a new job, negotiate. Know what you need to make to live without constantly worrying. Ask for it.
- If you’re a museum leader, chart your staff by gender and race. If you lead a smaller organization, you may not have two staff members who do even close to the same thing. In that case, compare your staff salaries to the ones in AAM’s salary survey. Are yours better by gender, better overall or are there multiple issues?
- Bring your salary information to your board, but before you do, understand what salary equity says to staff members. It’s not just words, it’s an acknowledgement that everyone in the organization chart is equally important, not more prized because they’re white and male. Make sure your board understands how important closing the gap is. Across the board raises–were they offered–deepen wage equity rather than fixing it. Close the gap first.
- Consider the way your organization hires. Is the hiring process relatively bias free or not bias free at all? Learn what you can from AAM’s Hiring Bias Project.
- Recognize your own biases and leave them at the door. Know that when labor economists look at the wage gap, 38-percent of it can’t be explained, meaning it isn’t about training or choices. It’s about how people and their occupations are perceived. Do your part and make change where you can.
Guest Blogger: Kimberly Boice
Passion. noun \ˈpa-shən\: a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept.*
If you’re lucky, you possess some amount of passion for your work. The brain surgeon enjoys the challenge of human physiology, the teacher seeks to nurture curiosity, the museum curator aims to preserve that precious artifact. Passion is the catalyst that makes many people push themselves a bit farther to ensure that the patient is well, that the person understands, or that the object is accessible. It’s a privilege to feel strongly about one’s work and we should count ourselves lucky.
Many of us pursued a career in the museum field because we want to make a difference in how the general public learns and perceives history, science, art or some amazing combination of all those subjects. Our passion drives us to work late into the night, early in the morning, while off-duty, and for relatively little money or benefits. We somehow continue to do more things with fewer and fewer resources because we’re creative, caring people who possess a deep passion for our work and how it impacts the people who benefit from it.
Most days I love my work as a museum educator and I believe it’s apparent in what I produce. Yet supervisors, family, and friends remind me I’m fortunate to have my job as if I were unaware of the fact. They believe that we chose a career in this field knowing salaries often remain low for the majority of workers while many positions require experience beyond a four-year college degree and therefore larger debt. Although they are not wholly wrong, we have worked hard to achieve what we have. Passion does not pay the bills, nor does it make us immune to the hardships and complexities of day-to-day tasks. If anything, the emotional ties to the job make many of us endure on fumes for longer than we should, threatening to jeopardize our mental and physical health. Add to this strain, the fear of retribution in the workplace and the larger museum community for being too vocal about legitimate hardships and it’s no surprise that some choose to pursue alternative careers.
So where does all this leave us? Honestly, I don’t know. Of course, finding yourself entirely burnt-out and/or in a toxic work environment is not good for anyone. You must decide if leaving the situation is a viable option for you and what that means in the short and long-term: can you relocate to a similar job elsewhere? Do you attempt to reinvent yourself for another type of work? Will returning to school make you the best hire? Should you take that promotion? Will you be the change you seek or simply suffer until retirement? How do you retain passion for the work while maintaining a good work/life balance? Is the passion enough to sustain you?
*Source: Merriam-Webster dictionary online, 12 March 2018
Kimberly Boice has worked professionally as a museum educator at an historic site since July 2003, although she began volunteering in the museum field as a teenager. Her passion for interpreting history often finds her working nights and weekends at her site and elsewhere, serving on committees and boards, and coordinating learning weekends for her fellow history enthusiasts as Mrs. Boice’s Historie Academie.
Not long ago a reader commented that leadership isn’t everything, that there’s a value in being a good follower as well. That remark stuck with me. In the four years since we began this blog we’ve looked at leadership from all directions. We’ve written about being the Lone Ranger director, about leading from the middle, about decision making, and about leadership and self-awareness. But we’ve neglected what it means to be a foot soldier. So today we turn the spotlight on followership.
According to our friends at the Bureau of Labor Statistics there are 353,000 museum and heritage organization employees. We have to assume that the vast majority do not occupy the corner office. They tend to have more responsibility than authority. They are assistant curators, fund raisers, educators, and volunteer coordinators. Some may go through an entire week and not see a member of their organizational leadership team, and yet all the planning, the vision, and the courage leaders incubate comes to life with the followers. They are the yin to the leadership yang.
Our reader was right: There is a stigma associated with followership. If your aspirations lean toward leadership, you don’t want to be tagged as the person who gets behind the concept, works well with others, and helps deliver a superior event, program or exhibit. Leadership in the United States is an individual thing, populated by creative outliers who sometimes believe they can do it on their own. Followership is a different sort of place.
Leaders sometimes have a reputation for arriving fully formed behind the big desk, but unless you’re an entrepreneur/visionary like Jeff Bezos your career trajectory usually begins as part of a team, a program, a department. There you learn to collaborate, to work with others. You support your leader’s decisions and share in the resulting successes. And, in a healthy museum or heritage organization, you feel comfortable challenging leadership, particularly in the face of something unethical. And even if you go on to become a leader, whether by accident or aspiration, without an understanding and an empathy for the qualities of followership, your leadership practice will suffer.
Of course there are also staff members who are undistinguished followers. They are the hermits–isolated individuals who’ve left before they leave. They are the unmotivated, kind of like an 8th grader who won’t participate in the team project except to tell everyone else what is wrong with it. And they are the trouble makers who participate through gossip, leaving discord in their wake.
For skilled followers–the ones coveted by all museums– work trumps individual differences–political, religious or lifestyle beliefs. For these folk, what’s important is what’s shared–delivering, for example, a brilliant historic site program blending geometry, history, and philosophy with grace and humor–not what you don’t. Every organization needs those folks. Accomplished followers are the people who bring good humor to collections storage when a pipe bursts and it’s all hands on deck. They are the folks who say thank you.
So, if you’re a leader, know your team. Even if your team is two volunteers and a part-time curator. Listen to them. Value them. Know what motivates them. Welcome the moments when they challenge ideas because it indicates they’re with you, and they want the best for the museum. Figure out ways to remove the barriers with which they may be struggling. Pay them what they’re worth. Thank them.