Telling Work Stories on Our Own Terms
Rewind with me, if you will, to the long ago time of 2013.
Beyonce dropped a new album.
Taylor Swift was on tour.
Breaking Bad was widely considered the best show on television.
OK, yes, the more things change, etc etc.
It was also the year the first touch ID iPhone came out, and the doge meme was everywhere, and we did things for the Vine and wanted to know what does the fox say?
Aw, and selfie was the Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year. What sweet summer children we were.
I’m peering down memory lane, because I also realized that the American Alliance of Museums conference was in Baltimore that year, and I wrote a blog post about my attendance then that makes me feel the same “sweet summer child” ever-so-slightly-patronizing fondness toward my past self that I feel looking back on those other 2013 trends.
AAM is in Baltimore again this year (this week, in fact), and I’m hopping on a train tomorrow to spend several days facilitating for and reuniting with and learning from many of my beloved museum world colleagues.
When I lead workshops or work with clients, I emphasize the idea that we can change the narratives we tell about ourselves. I have people do exercises to help think about their own self stories from different perspectives. It’s often the part of the workshop that sticks with people most.
And here I am, returning to a place for an event that I’ve done before, but holy crap, does the story I’m telling about myself look different now than it did 11 years ago.
2013
I’m happily thriving in my first full-time museum education gig at the Brooklyn Museum, getting creative with New York City public school students and their teachers.
Twitter is a playground, and #MuseumTwitter (which is still a thing) keeps me connected to a thriving network of smart folks doing interesting work. Find me an in-person networking event, and I’m there, fueled by an omnivorous hunger for professional growth.
Blast from the past (L-R): me, Rebecca Mir, Desi Gonzalez, Elisabeth Callihan, Kinneret Kohn, and Miriam Bader, all at the NYCMER annual conference in 2013 at the American Museum of Natural History.
I am eating up the cultural world of New York City with the biggest spoon I can afford. I’m side hustling left and right to augment my museum educator salary, and that money is sending me to the theater and to the out of town weddings of the endless string of friends getting hitched—most of whom actually live in the same city as me. Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller’s 40 Part Motet is at The Cloisters (where I’m not working), and Random International’s Rain Room and 20 Dancers for the XX Century are at MoMA (where I am).
I’m all about the professional drive, and soaking up the most experience I can out of life. So, of course, heading to AAM has got me all aflutter, and I’m determined to be a sponge for knowledge inside session rooms and out.
2024
Back here in the present, I’m working for myself, offering a portfolio of facilitation and strategic services to both institutional and individual clients. I’ve got a pirate flag on my business card, and I’m able to bring my outside-the-box, multidisciplinary mindset to my work like I’ve never been able to do before.
I’ve left the big city and am living in the quiet suburb where I grew up (back in the same house, with the same parents, sharing my living space for one of the only times in my adult life). I’ve got a dog to play with and a sleep schedule I can adjust to my own preferences.
When I put on headphones to focus, it’s on building schedules for workshops, retreats, and conferences that I’m paid to facilitate. Or it’s on doing my own accounting and web design. Or it’s on writing a piece like this, and sending it out to all of you.
My professional connections and meet-ups happen much more on video calls these days, although I’m still up for an in-person meeting when someone’s in my neck of the woods or I’m in theirs. I’ve spent a chunk of each of the past few years on the road or based somewhere away from home, and I’m working to make that a feasible future. My friends are spread around multiple countries and time zones, and more of my travel energy goes into seeing them than it ever had to before.
I’m still pursuing growth, but it’s much more inward-led exploration than outward-focused hustle, these days. Life is much more calm and intentional, where work is a piece of the puzzle, not the whole picture.
And where does that leave me as I head back to AAM in Baltimore once again?
Well, first off, I’m not actually attending AAM. I have a more complicated relationship with the organization now than I did 11 years ago. It’s done some amazing and inspiring things, and also some that are frustrating and harmful. Now that I’m more established in my career, AAM is not where I look for progressive practice and inspiration.
Also? Conference sessions aren’t where I look anymore when I want to find out what’s making the museum field tick. I’d much rather chat with someone outside of a formal presentation or share an experience with them while we talk museum talk. No need to spend a seriously hefty registration fee (especially now, out of my own pocket) to get that.
Instead, I’m pirating my time in Baltimore.
Thursday, Rebecca Shulman, David Bowles, and I will be leading a day-long workshop for 22 professionals who manage gallery educator programs. That’s the kick-off to SEED:Baltimore, our 6-month workshop-based community, and we’ve come up with it on our own.
For the days after that, I’ve got some loose plans to meet up with a handful of specific colleagues I know and love, but I’ve also learned that I do much better—especially now, with a COVID-shifted amount of social energy to spend—if I don’t make too many plans in advance.
It’s a good lesson for me to learn—and I offer it as a helpful reminder for any of you who might be headed to AAM or other professional gatherings coming up—that even if that gathering already has a specified form, you can make it be what you want it to be.
For me, that means I can connect with people deeply, rather than broadly. I can marshal my attention and energy for meet-ups that excite me. I don’t need to follow a schedule of session times and skip out on all the local museums and sites. I don’t need to spend entire springtime days inside an over-air-conditioned convention center when I could be out in a funky, weird city.
And I’m especially looking forward to not having a single soundbite to describe my work. I’m looking forward to telling the story of my work in a variety of ways that don’t have to conform to a set job title. Which, of course, you can still do even if you do have a set job title.
Here’s a challenge if you’ve got a conference coming up. Pick a handful of words you use to describe the kind of work you do, and have a different “elevator pitch” tailored to each of them.
I’ll start.
I’m going with the words I already use to describe my work: EDUCATOR, ADVENTURER, FACILITATOR, EXPERIENCE BUILDER, PIRATE. Here’s how I might introduce myself focusing on each of those identities.
EDUCATOR
I create opportunities for learning and change through workshops, retreats, and even one-on-one coaching. These can be for both individuals and organizations to help train and strengthen teams, to find creative inspiration, or to build new collaborations.
ADVENTURER
I help both individual and organizational clients make change by getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. I lead surprising retreats and activity-based workshops that get folks out of their comfort zones and help them discover they can do things they never thought of before.
FACILITATOR
I come in as a strategic outside voice to help both organizations and individuals make change. I help people build new skills and arrive at new realizations on their own by leading them through participatory workshops, trainings, and retreats.
EXPERIENCE BUILDER
I’m a flexible, responsive facilitator who makes retreats and workshops that stay with people over time. That might be a retreat for individuals or a staff training day for organizations, and it might be high energy or quiet and reflective. It’s up to the client and their goals.
PIRATE
I offer outside-the-box workshops, retreats, and training opportunities that I don’t assume the way things have been done before is the best way to keep doing them. I work with both individuals and organizations, and I always want people to leave an experience I’ve had with them thinking, “I never knew I could do that!”
Those are some sketched out options. You get the idea.
You can tell your story in different ways.
If you want to give this a try, and you’re going to be in Baltimore for AAM, come find me to try out your ideas (I’ve got curly blue hair and I promise I’ll be wearing colorful clothes with lots of pattern).
I may be heading to this Baltimore-based AAM with a very different perspective on life and work than I had in 2013, but I’m still looking forward to seeing folks there!
Creative Prompt Coda: Even if you’re not going to a professional conference, try writing a few different “elevator pitches” that quickly describe what you do, each emphasizing a different value or approach you bring to your work.
