Reflections of a Modern Intern

The last day of my internship perfectly summed up my whole summer. There was mostly a lot of play, with a little bit of work mixed in. Terry, the director of education, Tiffany, my boss, and one of our friends from education, Michael, took me to lunch at the Kimball across the street. We spent a lot of time waiting in line, but it was worth it for the two slices of their delicious quiche. After my farewell lunch, the group split ways, and Tiffany and I got free tickets to see the Kimball's new show, from Botticelli to Braque. We wandered around their gift shop for a while, checking out all the weird kitschy items for sale, and then headed back to the modern to work on our final blog post for the education blog. Once we finished up compiling images from the collection and from the kids projects over the summer, Tiffany and I were done. I felt a little sad knowing I wouldn't be seeing all of these new friends every day anymore, but also very excited that I wouldn't have to battle I-35 traffic anymore. kidding. Before I left for the day or should I say for the summer, Tiffany pulled out a big sparkly package. Inside was a Jackson Pollock cookbook and lots of confetti. This just showed me but Tiffany really took time to get to know me over the summer. I'm grateful that I had such a wonderful boss who allowed me to help so much, and who helped me when I was confused or struggling. As we were finishing our last blog post even, a new hire was touring the building and had a shark shirt on – Tiffany laughed and pointed to her shirt, saying "Oh my gosh Miranda loves sharks!". Post last day of work Tiffany hosted a potluck at her house for all of the artists who taught the different camps over the summer. It was a good capstone for my experience at the modern, and a relaxing environment to get to say goodbye to everyone in. I would also like to say that my potato salad was a hit. To anyone looking for a summer internship in the future, I would highly recommend the modern to anyone in education. Not only was it a great learning experience and a great little check off my resume, but it was a paid internship in the arts. Not that I did any of it for the money, it was only eight dollars an hour, but it was the best minimum wage job I've ever had. I'll miss all of my friends at the modern, but Tiffany's words to me remind me that it's never really over - "I'm not even sad - I'm going to see you all the time because you're local!" So cheers to a new semester starting this fall with new experiences under my belt to discuss in classes. I hope everyone else's internships were just as lovely and I can't wait to hear about them in your presentations.

The Final Countdown

As my internship comes to an end, I find it difficult to sum up all that I have done. The education department at the Meadows has been extremely welcoming and provided me the opportunity to experience all that an education department does.

I have learned so much from each person that I worked with at the Meadows, everyone from security to my direct supervisors. Despite the short amount of time that I’ve spent here, this experience will shape me as a museum educator.

This whole summer has been kinda crazy for me (not that I need to get into all of that). Working through the day-to-day challenges at the museum kept me from sinking. I was doing work I really believed in and I was there often enough to create a little safe space (it really helps when your supervisors are amazing and have huge hearts).

Before I came to the meadows, most of my experience had been in commercial galleries and historical museums. It was surprising how different art museums are from other institutions. My view on art museums and what takes place to put up an exhibition has completely changed. There are so many moving parts from all aspects of a museum to ensure the visitors are getting an amazing experience! I am so proud and humbled to have been a part of that process.

This experience has only added to my desire to work within a museum’s education department. Working with passionate people and watching them persevere through bumps in the road and red tape is truly inspiring. These are the kind of people that I always imagined being behind the great things I see and experience in a museum.

Institutional Ghosts

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about ghosts. It could be that images from the new Ghostbusters reboot are blowing up my Tumblr feed. It could be that GDAC is considered to be haunted by some, and my office is currently in a location I lovingly refer to as "the cave." I've been keeping an eye out for the Solitary Sentinel all summer, but haven't yet lucked into a sighting (much to my dismay). 

I think this fascination goes deeper than wispy spirits and howling in the rafters, though. And to me, ghosts are not so much an expression of the paranormal as they are the metaphor for all the stories, habits, and, sure, beings, that populate a space, that make up the space's identity. Perhaps my preoccupation is with what I will call "Institutional Ghosts," or what some might call "institutional memory." Such memory can be invaluable to the continued existence of a long-running institution. In order for things to run smoothly, there is value in listening to those soft voices in the rafters.

Of the things that I have experienced this summer with the Greater Denton Arts Council, and there are many, none are more striking to me than the impact memory exerts on this or any institution. Ghosts of programs or exhibitions past. Ghosts of former workers, city history, relationships... It occurs to me, reflecting on my work here, that not one thing happens in this cavernous space that the very walls don't seem to remember, waiting to whisper to future interns in the voice of the way things have always been done. 

It is all about choice, after all. Choosing which exhibitions to bring in, which programs to offer, which community representatives to work with - these are things an institution must plan for, agonize over. At what point do we choose to listen to those whispers, those vague apparitions of the past, when we set the agenda for the institution's coming years? And at what point do we choose to acknowledge those Ouija board sentiments and instead choose to change trajectory? Ideally, there is a mix of both. A museum needs to appear consistent in the eyes of its community - the community should have some idea of what to expect from its local institution's exhibitions and programming. But in order to remain relevant to the community it serves, a museum must also be flexible and forward-thinking, listening to new ideas and keeping an open mind.

The details of my research this summer need to remain private, proprietary to GDAC. It is, however, internal research that I think at some point in all of our museum careers we will (at least we SHOULD) see being done around us. Internal reflection is vital to the life of an institution, just as it is vital to being an educator. We cannot represent ourselves, our collections, or our communities without first understanding ourselves, our collections, and our communities. And in order to gain that understanding, the Institutional Ghosts need to be heard. 

I'd like to think that, in my time with the GDAC (which actually started in January), I have had the opportunity to impart my own Institutional Ghosts into the space. Perhaps they will lurk in the large pink industrial pipe/valve setup in the Festival Hall, a relic of the building's past life as a steam power plant. I hope that, next year, the ghosts of my Summer 2015 Arts Scouts will live on and mingle with whomever is planning camp. I hope that the spirit of my research lives on as GDAC continues to reflect on itself and its role in the community. Maybe someone will tap on the pink pipe and feel the sensation of an Arts Scouts uniform across their chest, and feel the pride it brought to the 40 inaugural scouts. Or maybe not. 

I do know with absolute certainty that I will find companionship with the spirits I have internalized from the Arts Council. On the multidimensional spirit exchange, I do not think we can always control what we will or will not take away from any given experience. While I began working with GDAC in January hoping to get more experience planning programs, that almost feels like the least of what I've done. Trust, teamwork, creativity, resourcefulness, pure and unadulterated exhaustion... I have a feeling I will be haunted (in a good way) by these ghosts for years to come, in whatever museum I work in, in whatever positions come my way.

Our experiences will add up, and I think that as we travel throughout our careers, our Institutional Ghosts will both depart from us and hitchhike with us to other institutions in a slow, steady spread of stories and experiences. And maybe a few ghost stories around the campfire.  

Experiences make impressions, some embossed more thoroughly than others. And someday in the future, those embossed experiences, those spirits, will empower me to speak poignantly of the past as it relates to the future. 

Happy haunting, everyone!

9-11 Camp – The Struggle with Free Labor/Volunteers

The week of 9-11 Camp was so tough on Tiffany, my wonderful boss, and I, that I couldn’t even bring myself to blog about it right after it came to an end. We had two great area artists teaching the camp’s two sections: Michelle Alison and Clayton Hurt. Michelle’s bubbly personality and natural enthusiasm were balanced well by Clayton’s dry humor and small smiles. The projects were wonderful – inspired by works like Nancy Graves’ Wheelabout from 1985 to the photographs of history museum dioramas by Hiroshi Sugimoto. The projects and final show were fantastic, but getting there was to say the least, like herding cats.

Volunteers and interns can be wonderful resources for museums, providing firstly FREE LABOR, and secondly enthusiasm, passion, and helpfulness where gaps are found in the more permanent staff. I was the only paid intern in the education department, and consequently, we relied on young (and some older) volunteers to staff the camp as counselors’ assistants, counselors, and artist assistants. Up until this week, every set of volunteers we had were extremely helpful and able to self-direct. This weeks volunteers were more introverted and less interested in helping out without explicit direction. The whole week could be described in one word, QUIET. Tiffany and I had to step into the camp settings every day in order to help the artists maintain order with the energetic, often very hyper 9-11 year olds. Some volunteers realized that teaching and museum education were not for them. While this felt frustrating to Tiffany, the artists, and myself, it was a good opportunity for the volunteers to test out possible careers. Many of them were also in high school, so understandably were still trying to figure out their own identities.

I am not in any way saying that volunteers are unhelpful or useless – we need them! They are so great and I am so thankful for all of the volunteers who came out to make art camp such a success. I just struggle with the dichotomy of today’s teens and young people trying to cram their resumes full of volunteer positions/un-paid internships to the point that they apply to everything – even positions (like these) that don’t match up with their interests. I’m sure each of these perfectly nice young volunteers might have thrived better in an environment more suited to their interests, and I hope they find that place in the future. As for me? I’m hoping that next year Tiffany will not have a death week like that one was for us this year.

Its a Process...

Hi everyone! I apologize in the lateness of my last post! We have been in the trenches of budget creating for the next fiscal year and I created my own budget! Woohoo!! I am seeing and learning more about the financial side of the museum than ever before! It’s exciting and nerve racking at the same time.

As my internship came to a close last week I presented to a group of students participating in a summer camp called Education in Action. The one week camp focuses on providing experiences to help develop leadership skills, apply what they learn in school, and to learn about potential careers. They make a stop at the Amon Carter each week. I was one of the last presenters for the summer.  The gallery teachers choose staff to present on what they do at the museum; how we got there, and offer any advice you may have when it comes to choosing a career. I was a nervous wreck! However, the students were great and had some interesting questions for me! As I look back on it, the experience was a great exercise in realizing how far I have come and where I hope to be one day. I went from not having a clue on what I wanted to do with my life when I graduated high school to a position I love in a museum I love and adore with lots more to come in finishing school and growing as a museum educator. This internship has also helped me in putting some goals into perspective, making me sit down and really think about where I am and what I want to accomplish instead of just going through the day to day of the job.

Many of the leaps and bounds I have made during these last four years at the Amon Carter have been through persistent hard work, being flexible to people’s needs, and willingness to help wherever I am needed so I may continue to learn as much as I can in a variety of areas and not just museum education since it takes a village (multiple departments!) to make the museum successful! The more knowledge I have about the inner workings of museums, especially in all areas and levels of museum education the better I can contribute as a valuable asset to the department and the museum. This summer, I believe, I made progress in developing my new position beyond administrative duties, building relationships, and developing my skills as a museum educator (I’ll be the educator conducting the art activity for our upcoming Family Loyalty program!), but at the same time realizing this process also takes time and patience. It can be a slow, but rewarding process! Another theme I have seen in our internships this summer: accomplishing small and/or great things even if it’s through baby steps to an overall greater goal. I think this is a theme for my whole life…and knowing I have navigated and accomplished what I have is something to be proud of. The museum field is not easy. It can be exclusive, difficult to break into, frustrating, and hard to stick with because nothing is ever easy in non-profits. We should all be very proud in continuing to stick with what we love, are passionate about, and feel is very important to the world: art, art education, and museums!

Although, the official ending date of my internship has occurred my position and goals will continue on. Hopefully I can gain more ground as the year comes to an end and the new year surprises us with how fast it appears!

Connections and Reconnections

The Meadows Museum has so many great things to offer visitors, and as an intern in the education department I've been able to dip my hands into a lot of different programs. I think the most informal programs we continuously offer has to be Connections and Reconnections. These programs are for those who are experiencing different stages of Alzheimer's. Connections runs for three consecutive Saturdays four times a year. We start off with a small art activity while we chat and have coffee and pastries, then we head upstairs for a more in-depth activity in the galleries. 

Throughout my internship I was able to attend one Connections event (hopefully I'll be able to come back and help out during the year). We brought in a musical therapist to aid in connecting to the works in the galleries. Even though it was really great to see everyone singing and making connections to the works, I will say that I think I enjoyed watching everyone talking while creating art from old post cards (some even had letters written on the back!). 

Reconnections is a shorter (and even less formal) version of connections. We start off with coffee, pastries, and chats; then we head upstairs for a short activity, which is totally optional. Reconnections is a good way for everyone to stay in touch over the summer, so we really try not to pressure anyone. 

I've been able to help out with two of the Reconnections events and I have not noticed a difference in the level of enthusiasm between Reconnections and Connections. Everyone is so lively! 

Being that both of these programs are informal the schedule sometimes completely gets tossed out the door. Which gives room for participants to wander the galleries if they see a work that really peaks their interest, or to stay and chat a little longer, or to stay after all of the activities and take a tour with a docent. I've been finding myself really inspired by those who create their own schedule in order to investigate a specific work. 

The more time I spend here, the more I feel like part of the family, and the more I don't want to leave!

The Inventing Box

Alright, everyone. Let's talk Inventing Boxes.

If, in making a program budget, I had to narrow the scope of all of my art-making supplies down to one thing in the whole world, it would be materials for an Inventing Box. I'm being serious. I could do without paint, markers, crayons, clay, and canvas. Gone. Take away the pencils, the pastels, the glitter, and the easels. Easy. All I really need in this world is a plastic tub filled with random recyclables, scissors for everyone, and my body weight in brightly-colored masking tape.

My love affair with the Inventing Box began two summers ago, when I was trapped for hours at a time with two children who were too smart for their own good (or my sanity). Summer can be a terrifying time when you are charged with making sure children don't descend into primal chest-beating and grunting. We had forgotten to put the recycling out on the curb for pick-up a few days prior, and the bin overflowed, sending random plastic brick-a-brack here and yon. Three-year-olds, you might be aware, are attracted to brick-a-brack. I think it has to do with magnets or String Theory or something. Either way, I walked into the kitchen to find this dear sweet precocious boy wearing a (thankfully clean) yogurt container on his head, insisting it was a "brain scratcher." The three of us spent the rest of the day using an unholy amount of tape to make "inventions" from egg cartons, bottles, old cardboard boxes, straws, bottle caps, wire, string, and clothespins.

Since that fateful day, almost every program, camp, class, and workshop I have done (at the Perot, the Greater Denton Arts Council, and at Oil and Cotton) has involved inventing boxes and otherwise recycled (a,k.a. I AM POOR AND SO ARE  YOU AND WANT TO MAKE THINGS WITH PEOPLE) supplies. For toddlers up through adults, people of all ages and backgrounds that have interacted with me at a museum have been converted to the Ideology of the Inventing Box.

My reasons for being utterly devoted to Inventing Boxes are various and sundry, and I decided that they would best be related in the sonnet below:

For sooth, that budget creepeth into red,
When desperately do I attempt to buy
Some brushes for to paint thine wint'ry head.
"Expense!" Unload my cart and mourn must I.

"A box!" I cry, "I dream it to be full
Of buttons, bits of styrofoam and wood,
Of scraps and bobbins, sheets of felted wool,
And cardboard cut with notches would be good.

To fix these things together, you must think!
As teacher, mine's to only lend a hand.
Exertion makes your cheeks a little pink...
When, finally! It works! And by YOUR hand.

Though painting is a fine and noble skill,
Inventing Boxes are my greatest thrill.


That's right, friends. I love Inventing Boxes so much, I wrote a sonnet about them. I love making Invention Boxes because they are generally cheap, it is fun to go looking for strange building materials to include, it is a sustainable/responsible/less wasteful practice, and it serves as a way to offload some of the random objects I hoard in the name of "but it will be useful someday!" Pedagogically, I love Inventing Boxes because they demand problem solving and creative reasoning. Inventing Boxes allow everyone to create together but don't demand that everyone's products look the same. In my experience, my students have seemed less intimidated to make objects using an Inventing Box as opposed to painting or drawing or even using clay. This is purely anecdotal, but I hear "but I'm BAD at making art" way less often when using an Inventing Box than I do when I ask people to draw or paint. I think Inventing Boxes frame "mistakes" in a positive light. And there's something oddly appealing about playing with "trash" (don't deny it!).

Throughout Summer Arts Camp last week, I had a BLAST inventing things with the kids. A while week of cardboard, recycled scrapbook paper, rope, vinyl table cloths, and roughly 30 rolls of colorful duct and masking tape. And, throughout the week, things broke. Cardboard cabins and teepees came apart overnight. Chimneys fell off of houses. Heads, somewhat traumatically, came off of birds, and hands got tied up in knots. But Arts Scouts, I would say, are not to be afraid of mistakes. Making is a process. So if what you just tried didn't work, let's try it again!

But by the end of the week, all the kids would repeat with me when they came to me with a problem:

"So how are we going to fix it?"

A finished campsite installation!

Our Recycled River!

Construction is serious business.

The inside of Megacabin - some industrious boys combined their cabins into a longer one! This was a week-long undertaking with lots of "fixing."

And no campsite installation is complete without a resident owl!

Channeling Opportunities...

This summer I hoped to build upon my existing relationships with the managers so I could contribute on a higher level to the critical development of our education programs. In the past most of the contributions I have made have been to Public Programs. For example, our manager would ask me to come up with art activities and/or art searches for our Art in the Dark programs. I have always thoroughly enjoyed creating these activities for our patrons, but my contributions in this area have been cut back due to the hiring of a new Public Programs Coordinator. She assists the Public Programs Manager and is basically second in command for that area. I still have responsibilities for public programs, but now there are two of us to split the prepping of materials and getting things ready for programs. The manager now splits the creative thinking of developing programs and activities during those programs with the coordinator. I knew this would happen at the time of the hiring, but instead of being frustrated about it, I chose to focus my goal of building relationships to this very scenario. Like Alli said in her comment on my first post, “one of the wonderful things about this field is its flexibility, and how necessary it is for us to be able to bend and adapt when asked to.” 

As the Public Programs Coordinator stepped into her new position, we worked closely together in prepping materials for Storytime. As she grew more comfortable, she took hold of the reins in overseeing that we had everything we needed for each art activity every week. We continued to prep and make the materials and then stuff bags for the patrons together. We found a good balance and I could still fit my administrative duties and Library responsibilities into the work day without being overwhelmed. If she had not been hired the majority of the preparation would have fallen on me and I now see how difficult it would have been to accomplish all of it! We also communicate very well, whether its updating the other person about something or solving a problem. If she had a question or issue, she felt comfortable coming to me and we would talk through it or come up with a solution. If I have a concern her door is always open as well. In doing so, I have still been able to contribute through my relationship building with her. We talked about ideas for an art activity for the upcoming Art in the Dark and I also gave her an art search I created for a previous program to help her with some ideas she was working through for Family Fun Week. 

In building better relationships with other managers, I have seized opportunities to learn something new so I can better help them in the future and even take on the responsibility completely. Our Interpretation Manager has come up with some wonderful in-gallery accessibility tools for people who are partially or completely blind and people with dyslexia. So they are able to access the object labels with ease, she placed booklets with large font labels, as well as, booklets with labels printed in dyslexic font with a gray background. These booklets are created in house. Our Exhibition Designer formats them and I print the pages and bind them together and also fix them when they come apart. However the formatting is very time consuming and our Exhibition Designer has a lot on his plate. Our Interpretation Manager’s plan was to learn how to format the labels herself. I asked what program is used for the formatting and she answered Adobe InDesign which I have on my computer! Right now my skills are limited to using it for one thing, but I told her that if she would like to train me once she learns we could split the work load because she also constantly has a lot on her plate. She was very excited and open to that idea so hopefully we can get the ball rolling! 

My goal of making contributions at a higher level is a slow one in that building better, more responsibility-driven relationships takes time and I am willing to be patient. I have seen the small results from this building trust and I like where they are going. I hope I can continue to work on them as I know my time in the office will be cut back once the fall semester starts. From here my goal is to channel more opportunities of learning because I want my collaboration with each person in the department to grow.

Note(s) to Self: On Planning Your Week-Long Program

Hello all! The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity at the Greater Denton Arts Council, as I continue to work on internal research while also preparing for Summer Arts Camp! Camp starts Monday, and I am honestly having a hard time thinking of anything outside of that program. I am in charge of planning, prepping, and facilitating the Visual Arts Camp, and I am SO excited because I am getting to facilitate a program I have been wanting to do for the longest time - Art Scouts! This week, my kiddos will become Art Scouts, earning (and making) their own badges through independent learning opportunities and team building exercises, all culminating in a huge group "camp site" installation in Festival Hall on Friday (complete with cabins, campfires, tents, trees, a river, and a kayak!). A dream come true.

While I am beyond thrilled to be in charge of this program, the past few weeks have been some of the busiest and, honestly, most difficult I've ever had. From worrying about budget to writing countless lesson plans to coordinating donated recyclables to sourcing and budgeting cheap (but durable) supplies, the past few weeks have emphasized the simultaneous importance and irrelevance of planning for these types of programs. By irrelevance, I mean what any seasoned teacher will say: plan plan plan as much as you can, and you won't use most of it. I am the type of person who likes to be over-prepared for things, which can be a challenge when enrollment fluctuates and all my careful preparations from months ago seem to go up in glittery smoke.

In the spirit of planning, being scatterbrained, and wanting to get a multitude of ideas out there into the ether, I decided to spend the rest of my post jotting down some things I have learned in the last few weeks:

Notes to Self:

1. Pay attention to the allotted time for your event. Pay close attention to it. Observe it. Grow comfortable with it. Then crumple it up in a tight ball in your fist and throw it into the corner with an exasperated sigh.  Does the schedule say that you have a long, luxurious hour and a half with your sweet cherry blossoms? In the real world, that hour and a half is more like one hour, between late arrivals and early pick-ups, clean-up time and walking time. Factor in potty breaks for wee ones, and you're looking at more like 45 minutes. But you can't just plan a 45 minute activity, because then you run the risk of everyone arriving and leaving on time and you being left with nothing to do for 45 minutes except watch the children slowly descend into sticky anarchy. Instead, plan an activity that will SCALE well. Bare bones, it can be finished in 30 minutes. Add a couple of layers, and you've filled your time well and the children haven't gone all Lord of the Flies on one another. When in doubt, always have a picture book in your back pocket and practice your silly and dramatic reading voices. (And go get your crumpled schedule from the corner - you're going to need that!)
2. When you volunteer to handle the calls for and picking-up of insane amounts of cardboard (seriously, I could build a house with this stuff), make sure you pay attention to the type of car you drive. Let's just say my eyes were bigger than my Escape's trunk, and there were bungee cords involved.
3. The dollar store is your greatest ally and your most feared foe. Use its powers wisely. Whatever you do, do NOT buy dollar store tape (masking, duct, etc.) if you intend to have children make large-scale structures that you actually, you know, what to stay together. Trust me. Splurge on the tape, if nothing else. 
4. Mind the ghost in the corner. (his name is the Solitary Sentinel - look him up!)
5. Second-guess the canoe, but go for the kayak!
6. When accounting for materials prep time, use your imagination to first figure out the longest it could possibly take to finish all the prep work. Do you have a number in your head? Good. Now add six hours and five blisters and continue planning from there. I hope you remembered your caffeine!
7. Say your program has a maximum registration of fifteen. Registration's been going for a while, and you think you've hit your maximum at ten. People haven't registered in several days, so you think you have your number. You buy materials enough to cover the ten people who have registered, right? WRONG. Always prep for the maximum number of children allowed to register for the program or you will be sorry. Very, very sorry. (I'm sorry, fingers! I'm sorry!)
8. Look down at your cute, adorable, new, museum-y, artsy shoes. Heave a wistful sigh, smile to yourself, wave, and kick them across the room to rest with the remains of your poor crumpled schedule. Wear your comfortable shoes unapologetically.
9. In the event that a large group of vivacious, curious, hilarious children wants to know why they can't play with the beautiful hand-made chess set in the gallery... Just go ahead and admit that you want to as well and then make them all jealous by telling them you got to touch it when installing the exhibition and the pieces are all really light and smooth. 

Currently, I am laying on the couch with my feet propped up in the air, sore and dusty from a day of hard work. I made 20 kid-sized, donated, recyclable, foldable cardboard cabins today. Twenty!

I could choose to be grumpy and whiny about my throbbing feet right now, but I'm just so excited I can't stand it. The above list really feels like a mere fraction of my experience with GDAC in the past few weeks, and I approach the coming week of camp with trepidation and enthusiasm. Just picture me in my old scouts uniform, practicing bird calls and teaching kids to tie all kinds of fun knots!

STORYTIME!

Hello everyone!! I have been wanting to blog about Storytime since its start on June 10^th, but too many wonderful and awesome things kept happening during each program so I waited then waited some more to tell y’all all about it!!

What IS Storytime you might ask?! Well  first off, it’s a freaking awesome program that our patrons LOVE!! Secondly, it is a summer program held every Wednesday in June and July.  It is an opportunity for families with young children ages eight and under (but all ages are welcome), to visit the museum and participate in an informal, free choice environment to connect children’s literature to works of art.  The program offers three to four different stories paired with different works of art, accompanied by a discussion of the book and artwork, and an art making activity.  Through Storytime, children are exposed to literacy, visual literacy, and sometimes the museum setting for the very first time.  In the galleries, our gallery teachers read the children’s book and lead a discussion in relating things seen and heard from the story with a chosen work of art.  The discussion of the book and artwork is an open dialogue and allows the younger participants to “just be kids” as one of our gallery teachers likes to say.  There is no guided inquiry into finding a meaning in the artwork and little to no facts or scholarly based opinions are presented about the piece during the discussion between the gallery teachers and families.  The conversation relies heavily on the children’s interpretation of what they view and hear from the story and relating that knowledge to the work of art. 

 The theme changes every year and this summer our theme is Animals!! So far we have had Awesome Amphibians, Marvelous Mammals, Sensational Sea Creatures, and Radical Reptiles.  This summer is particularly special because we have real-life animals visiting the museum from the Dallas Zoo on certain days! Unfortunately because of Tropical Storm Bill the mammals were not able to visit on their designated day, but they will make a surprise visit on another Wednesday. Thankfully, yesterday, the reptiles didn’t disappoint our patrons! 

 As I mentioned before in my first post, one of my goals this summer is “to sharpen my skills of interacting with the public as an educator.” As I hoped for, Storytime has been a wonderful opportunity for just that! The first couple of weeks I was stationed at the art activity table in which I had to explain what they will be making. The children are usually always excited about the art activity and are eager to see what they will be making. To get them even more pumped, I think I have developed a “museum educator voice” which I can only describe as an excited, “Hey! Who’s ready to make some art?!” voice. I pictured some cheesy retro camp counselor as I type that, but I think we all pull it off a lot better. For clarification, I have NOT said the phrase, “Who’s ready to make some art?!” J Sometimes the interaction between me and the children is straight forwarded; they’ve been here multiple times and just need a simple explanation and a sample to look at and they are off to the blue mats to get their art making on! During the first few interactions at each program, I really try to watch my phrasing to see what works best so there is no confusion. Even late in the program, I find myself refining what I am saying as each interaction occurs.  Other times, the explanation of the art activity has turned into a full-blown conversation going beyond the activity which I love! I learned about Grandma Rose and how she is coming to visit at Christmas, which Mutant Ninja Turtle is the best, what animals they’ve seen on vacations or at the zoo, and what a brother and sister want to be when they grow up (a construction worker and a kindergarten teacher btw). The brother asked what I wanted to be when I grow up and answered “I am doing what I want to be right now: a museum educator. I work here and get to hang out with y’all and I love it!” 

Yesterday was our biggest turn out yet because of the reptiles visiting from the Dallas Zoo. This time around I was stationed in a gallery to handle crowd control. I did not engaged with as many patrons, but I observed one of our gallery teachers while she read and engaged with the families which was really nice to learn from. More than anything I invited families to join in, answered questions, and kept children from running away from their guardians-babies and toddlers are quick! Customer service skills learned from my years at the information desk came in handy. One story I have to share before I wrap up: After Patricia finished reading the book, she turned to the discussion about the painting and asked everyone: “Does everyone see the people in this large room?” and everyone answered yes. Patricia then asked “Where are they?” A child answers, “They’re all dead!” That definitely took the cake for wackiest comment heard in the gallery that day, but he was absolutely right.

 
Over the next four weeks, I will be stationed back at the art activity table and in the galleries also. We have four Wednesday s left, including Incredible Insects, Fabulous Fish, Brilliant Birds, and Wonderful Water Beasts! I have scattered some pictures from the program throughout the post. My coworker, Amanda, was super sweet to get a snapshot of me with a patron. This girl’s family has become regulars this summer. I have not gotten her name yet, but eventually will because what is so wonderful about all of our programs is that we get to know our patrons and their families so well. It is definitely one of the joys of working in education.