What can I do with a History degree?

Waaaayyyy back in 2011, I wrote For the Love of History. I am almost surprised how much the post resonates with me still - it actually might be my favourite. I especially like this part:

Ever since I can remember, I have been obsessed with history. Or maybe a better way to say it is story - his story, her story, their story, your story, our story. I have always wanted to know all the details of how we live our lives, from where your family is from to if you love your community down to what you had for breakfast (and if you ate it with your kin, or if you just grabbed a cup of coffee — no sugar — as you ran out the door). I believe I get a true connection with others through these vignettes, and I understand people better, as I get to see life through someone else's eyes.

Oh, and how I still love history. And although when I was growing up, it might seem more obvious that I should have liked English class in order to find and share these stories, it was actually Social Studies / History that drew me in. I wanted to understand how people have experienced life around them, especially people in the past. Needing to know more about this lead me to pursue an undergraduate degree in (primarily) Canadian History.

Pragmatist that I was though, I wanted to figure out how to use this degree. I had not considered a a graduate degree yet because I was really eager to get out and travel as soon as I finished my studies. I also knew pretty early on - and I am not sure why - but I did not want to teach in schools. So I started to look for examples of where this degree could be useful. I thought maybe a historical researcher for a movie? I could see in credits that this could be a thing. Or maybe for a book? How could I get into that? I had gone to the Provincial Archives and used primary resources to write a paper on muskeg and homesteading in northern Alberta . . . I also heard that yes, an undergrad degree like this could be a stepping stone for later, maybe getting a law degree or even furthering it so I could get into the diplomatic corp and REALLY see the world. But alas nothing quite fit . . . until it dawned on me: museums and collections, and the stories they hold. What would it be like to use my degree and work in a place like that? As so, as the second part of the quote above reveals . . . 

My love for museums and collections care grew from this love of history because, for me, it is objects that bring a tangible reminder of what has gone before, and how people have related to events, as the stories associated with those objects brings meaning to their experiences.

I decided I would use my history degree to tell stories - and history - through things. I would use this skill to help learn about and understand the world and our experiences around us and (hopefully) provide some relatable, common ground to meet and share our lives. And so in 1990 (ah, showing my history now, for sure!) I decided would take my history degree and find me a museum to serve. The adventure had begun!

Some real-live textbooks I used all those years ago . . .

. . . and a bonus grad photo. Oh boi!

Memory Lane

As I begin to write the next chapter in my career, I have been thinking and researching how I should update documenting my skills, my resume, and my LinkedIn profile. I have completed a LinkedIn course, and am working with a coach. One idea that I am beginning to understand is there are different ways of expressing my work. For instance, a LinkedIn profile isn't a resume (which should be tailored to each application) and so documenting all experience - even the really early stuff - can count. Every moment is an opportunity to connect in unexpected ways, ways I may never have recognized previously. And so naturally, this got me musing once again . . .  how did I get here in my museum career journey? What is my story? How have I / how may I in the future connect with people? 

I started breaking down my story, going through my memories, thinking about adventures and even bringing out photographs (with all 'dem crazy hair dos / don'ts!). I do see how everything has built on the last experience to make me better, more prepared for the next career step. I am also beginning to understand, in hindsight, where I could have slowed down a little, and how I can still learn from those experiences. I am now taking the time to explore my privilege, uncover what I found out along the way, what took me to the next phase . . . This review is all very therapeutic for me right now, helping me see how everything changes. It may seem self-indulgent, but this realization is giving me an understanding that these transitions are what makes life interesting, and is how I learn and grow.

So, briefly put (ha!), my steps and stops along this road have included . . . 

 1.  What can I do with a History degree?
 2.  Canadian Forces Reserve adventure (in music!) There's No Life Like It
 3. (Tower of) London: Dream / Reality (My Time at the Tower)
 4.  Finding Home: Edmonton volunteer & work experience (Coming Home, Part 1)
 5.  California: Volunteering, Grad school, museum work (A California Dream)
 6.  Return to Canada: Heritage Officer at BC's Government House
 7.  Making Connections: Cultural Program Coordinator at a University
 8.  Museum Consultant: Work & Challenges
 9. Being an Archivist in a Library at a University in a National Historic Site
10. Senior Registrar at a large museum & Daring to Lead: Director of Collections at a large museum 

12. Lessons learned (so far!)

I will come back to this post and link to the above when I have written a 'chapter'.  I may also bunch/group posts - write a couple before I send out a link to my Twitter account @Owl_ (rather than flood my LinkedIn feed with this written therapy). 

A couple of caveats here: I have written about a few of these experiences already in this blogspace, and will be linking back to a couple of posts (and review all hyperlinks -- ouch, many don't work any more!). Also, these may be my memories, but I share them with a lot of people. If you are reading this and you recognize that you were there in that chapter with me, please jump into the comments below and add in what I may have missed. 

A laneway in Wales,
visited with my dad, mum and daughter in 2013

The Ka-Ching File

Ha. I have actually been musing about museum work . . .  go figure my blog title actually makes sense . . .

Yes, I have been reviewing my work experiences, figuring out ways to highlight and categorize and document project accomplishments and goals met and all that. I have been struggling with what to focus on, and if I should categorize my work by specific museum projects, or should I focus on more general management skills. Or is it maybe more about how I connect with a specific position, and with the people there? How do I tell the world I have really enjoyed the experiences and connections I have made, and how I would bring that enthusiasm to future opportunities, with all my heart?

I have not been sure on how to process all of this, so I thought I could start with my most recent work. I have been wrestling on how to write a blog post about my experience as a senior registrar in a large institution, and wondering why it has been difficult to document, as I loved the work so much. I picked up a couple of work notebooks and went through them . . . holy moly, I was *smokin'* BUSY. Non-stop, so many projects, so many deadlines, so many responsibilities. Notes to myself, scheduling, timelines checked off, highlighted, moved forward, resolved and, ya, sometimes abandoned / set aside for another day. Notes of extra hours put in whenever they were required, getting those high priority issues resolved. Through all of this, though, I neglected to properly document what I was doing because the pace was so fast. Sound familiar to anyone else?

So here I am, trying to rebuild and write down what I did and how I got it done, taking stock of all the amazing experiences thus far. And although the past 8 years have been in a museum, I have had some recent reminders that a good amount of my career has been spent as a lone ambassador of history / collections care-giver / heritage person / interpretation specialist in organizations with other purposes. In fact, I even recently interviewed for a director role in a place I had worked previously. Although they ended up hiring the incumbent, it was a great experience to go through, for a number of reasons. One is that I updated my resume to a more general one, focussing on management tasks and guiding people more than collections-based projects. Another is getting an interview is intimidating but exciting, and I need practice using my energy to properly highlight all I can do. But the best part was reviewing what I did there 15 years ago, and finding out all the programs I developed -- the database I designed, the tour guide documents I pulled together and the interpretive panels I wrote -- they are all still being used today.  And I was told how much they appreciated what I created while I was there, and how it added to the site.

How could I have 'forgotten' all that work? Why isn't it top of mind and why was I surprised to hear it made a difference, had longevity? I cannot be that humble, can I?

This got me thinking . . . and I then found further evidence that I need to really polish up how I self-assess my work and highlight it for others. You see, I was in an old email account and found a file called "Ka-ching". Here I had placed emails from people who said they enjoyed my work from ten years plus ago. There were over 40 emails! FORTY EMAILS OF HOW I MADE A DIFFERENCE?!! Some highlights, if I may be so bold:

Oh my goodness, I am overwhelmed! Thank you so much for taking the time to send those pictures to me. I am so grateful and touched at your kindness. I love them so much and I will forward them on to his sisters who are in Ontario. I am sure that they will appreciate your generosity as well.

Thank you so much for including me on all those E mails and most importantly facilitating this whole process. Your knowledge of procedures, contacts and dedication to this project has been absolutely fabulous and has gone a long way to solidifying  great donor relationships and I know will be appreciated by the whole family who as you know were instrumental in establishing and significantly funding here.

Caroline has accomplished a heck of a lot since she started and has earned my heartfelt appreciation for her enthusiasm, her professionalism, and her ability to move plans to completion. 

We thought it would be a great idea to chat to Caroline Posynick* to see if she could give us a “Short History Lesson” with some notes that we could be able to convey to our inquisitive guests, before suggesting that they continue on with an actual tour. Caroline was amazing. Not only did she jump at the opportunity to share, but she also spent some time, ‘sprucing up her Power Point’. And she didn’t bat an eye, when it was suggested that we also include our Tour Guide teammates, so the group became bigger. I organized a laptop, and with the help of AV Services, we were set up in a break out room with a flat screen. Caroline met us on Thursday morning, and gave us a truly fabulous and informative session. She brought some of the books out of the Archives, and had lots of notes to share, along with a couple of presentations. She even had a copy of a Census form from 1911 that was amazing to see, and try and figure out! It is easy to see that she is passionate about her work. (*Posynick was my last name until 2019.)

I am so, so glad that I thought to save these emails, as they are a reminder of just how many projects I have worked on, and these notes show how I got things done, and how I connected with people. For me to find my next work adventure, I need to be able to confidently and unabashedly state what I have accomplished in the past so that they can clearly envision what I could do for them in the future.

I know that days are fast-paced, and it is difficult to find time to take stock. It is vital though, and I am clearly seeing that now. I read just recently about a recommendation on how having an open document on your desktop that is regularly updated with accomplishments goes a long way to making you feel like you're making a difference. It also can provide energy when you need a boost, or when you know it is time to make a change. At least that is what I am finding... the ka-ching moments are most definitely golden. Keep them, re-read them, believe them and remember them!

Where my day-to-day work magic has been documented through the years, and will soon be revisited!

CH-CH-CHANGES

Well, it's been a while . . .

I almost cannot believe this blog still exists, but it does! And so I am back after seven - SEVEN! - years away. A lot has happened, too. Where shall I start?

First, I guess all ya'll know - or should know - that I reclaimed my birth surname Davies in 2019, shortly after my father passed away. I was a bit nervous of how no longer going by my married name of Posynick would affect how I was known professionally - and I am still out there in that name, which is why it is still part of my LinkedIn landing page and a couple of other blog posts. But it was the right thing to do as it honours Dad, and I love owning my 'roots'. My contact email is now mscarolinedavies@gmail.com in order to reflect the change.

I also let my hair go silver! It wasn't just a COVID-induced decision, either. Not sure why I need to tell you about this, Blog, but it's important to me to be me, all me, and present that right up front. (More owning my roots, lol.) I have therefore updated my profile photo, woo hoo!

But the biggest change of all, oh Blog-of-Mine, is that I am no longer at that Big Museum. It was an amazing experience there, it was, and I am so glad I had that opportunity. You see, after nearly seven years as Senior Registrar, I stepped into a management role as Director of Collections, overseeing collections managers and the registration department. I began this role as the institution was going (and still is) through really large changes and understood that it was a risk stepping out of a union position. And so, almost ten months in, the position along with two other managers (of curators and educators) was made redundant/cancelled in an effort to restructure how leadership is organized. Now I know these things happen as an organization finds its new way and it *really* should not have been a huge surprise but I ain't gonna lie - this was and has been a big change for me. But know what else? I now have space. And time. Time to write and reflect about all I have learned these past few years, and time to share. 

I am in such a moment of opportunity right now, and I am very excited for what is ahead. My recent experiences having included all things registration (acquisitions, loans in and out, exhibitions), working to organize natural history specimens and human history objects to ready for a move, repatriation, access to collections, interpretation, team building (both hiring and supporting) and so many other topics. I want to, feel the deep NEED to, write all about it, from my perspective and experience as how my career has evolved. I am so glad to be here!

This is a photo of one of my favourite places, Botanical Beach on Vancouver Island. 
Sharing 'just because'! 

IT HAPPENED!

This is the post I have been dying to write. And now it is time...

On January 5, 2015, I began working at my favourite museum, doing my favourite job.

My title is Senior Registrar and I am in charge of the initial intake of all objects into a provincial museum that has over seven million natural history and human history artifacts in its collection. I work with loans, both for exhibition and for research, as well as oversee the acquisition process of all donations to the museum.  It is truly my dream job, and everything I ever thought it would be!

This is not to say it is without its challenges. It is a high stakes / high stress job from time-to-time. Somehow though, with the support of my amazing colleagues and from my fabulous family, I get through it and learn even more about the joys and challenges of working in a museum.  All the work experiences along the way have prepared me for the position, for which I am so grateful. And so I pinch myself each day I walk in and pick up my keys and walk past the ticket booths on my way to my desk and the thousands of emails and the oh-so-cool requests that come my way. I am ready - or am willing and able to be ready - for all that is asked of me in this museum gig and that, my friends, feels so amazing.

It is my hope to be able to share some of the experiences here now that I am musing even more about museum work . . .  we will have to see how this goes as time is tight and I represent an institution as much as myself. It is my hope that I will work things out and will be here more than I have been in the past few years.

Thank you all for reading thus far. Trust me when I say that I shall be back!

In Praise of the Instructional Skills Workshop

Well, I'll be . . .

 . . . someone who can give a presentation after all!

I tell you, I learned something in just a three-day course that could change the way I present information. And, no, I am not being sponsored for this post -- I just can't get over how good I feel about public speaking after taking the Instructional Skills Workshop.

So what did I learn? What did I want to learn? I said in my previous post that I wished to be less of a scared robot and more a TED talk-style of speaker when I am in front of a crowd. I wanted to lose my nerves and gain some guts to fly without notes (I do know that I know my stuff!) I also wanted more information on learning styles as well as lesson planning.  My teaching is much more informal than instructors at a university, but it is still instruction that should have a purpose. And so I learned about the (duh) importance of engaging the learner/student/audience by putting them first, before the instructor.

We had to present three times over three days, and each lesson would be videoed. We'd also review lessons as a group (four other learners, one facilitator) immediately after our presentations. We were given guidelines for giving constructive feedback, plus information on learning models (we used BOPPS).

The first day, my goal was to present without PowerPoint. There were no podiums but I asked for a table where I could rest my photos to hand out plus have a place for my brief notes. I also engaged my audience by letting them know there would be a treat if they were able to answer a 'skill testing question'.  I tried, oh I thought I tried, but the results felt much the same -- too nervous to enjoy the moment, too much note-reading, not enough true engagement in the lesson. I also was very short and so I filled the rest of the presentation with an answer-question session on history of the site.

In the review, a video clip was brought up. As soon as I finished my formal presentation, I put down the notes, came away from the table, and sounded much more authentic. It was a bit jarring, actually, the difference in how I acted and sounded at the front there! I also clearly was able to speak to the questions being asked.  And so, with this feedback, I decided the next day I should fly without a script, to see if I was the same on stage.

Well, I thought I would die during that second presentation. My brain told me I wasn't making sense, I was stuttering, I was shaking, I felt like a mess, and I was pretty sure I was goofing up every PowerPoint slide going. I had stop and apologize for my nerves, for I thought they were really distracting. I survived, but I didn't feel very good about it. And the feedback? It was, "Why did you stop?" "You were fine!" and "Don't ever let them see you sweat!" And then someone said to me something that changed the way I looked at nerves forever: they said that they feel bad knowing about my nerves. She very gently and kindly said it seemed like being up in front of the group was a burden to me, and that I couldn't wait to be done. That hit me -- I really don't want to make anyone who takes the time to see me feel awful or that I didn't want to be there!

I took that notion with me when I reviewed the whole video that night. Know what the most shocking revelation of the video was? I didn't look or sound nervous at all, I am talking well enough. And then there's this random stoppage where I stop and literally wring my hands before I get back to things. *I* felt nerves, but my inside perception was nowhere near the actual fact without all those inside emotions ruling the roost. I was floored. Why had I not really watched myself before this opportunity?

On the third day, I was determine to use my nervousness for good. A colleague told me that nerves were just excitement and should be channeled as positive energy and not fear. Right before my talk, I was told to prepare by doing a Wonder Woman stance - hands on hips, legs apart. Do so for a minute. Or perhaps hold my arms straight above my head - whatever made me feel better - for either position has the potential to help tap physiological strength. Well, I am not sure what it was, but it worked and I was very happy with the presentation. I had spruced up the Day 2 PowerPoint with a couple of moving parts -- I incorporated some music as well as video -- and I felt like I was present in the room. I was there to be receptive of my audience's needs and questions, and the presentation was not about me, or my notes, or how many butterflies I had dancing in my tummy. And know what? This focus on those in the room, and their willingness to be there to listen and participate, made all the difference in connecting to those who came to engage.

So what's the bottom line here? It's pretty cliche, but I really would say it's good for me to get outside my comfort zone, and to get out there and talk with people about what I know best. I hope to have another opportunity in the near future to present or teach so I can build upon these lessons earlier rather than later, but writing down my lessons here is another way for me to remember the instructional experience I had at ISW. You should try it out if you get the opportunity.

image from
http://www.tradereadingorder.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/wonder-woman-238x300.jpg

Unlocking Information

I admit it, I feel vulnerable putting this out there. But if you can't share what you learn . . .

I recently gave a presentation of historical information and although I have had fabulous feedback and thanks, I know that standing up and speaking in front of people is something I want to / need to work on. I wish to channel that passion I have for archives and museums into a more engaging TED-like style of talking instead of sounding like a scared robot full of facts. The content is rich, and it reaches some people no matter how I put it out there, but know I could do better. This feeling led me to do an inner audit of how I could improve my presentation skills, and I list the findings below. I also sought an advisor on what I could do to strengthen the way I deliver information like this, and her answer - the final point - surprised me very much. It's one of those obvious things that makes so much sense I wonder why I didn't get there earlier myself because of its brilliant simplicity. First listed, though, are the self-reflected lessons learned.

For the presentation, I had a lot of PowerPoint 'slides' to go through to tell a story in a pretty tight timeframe. What I decided is that the way to keep me on task was to pre-time the slides so they would automatically go forward as I read the script. I also thought this would be helpful because I wasn't exactly sure of the room set-up, and that I might want to walk around a bit and not have to keep going back and forth to the computer - setting a timer would do it for me. Well, you likely know where this is going. I practiced the presentation in an empty office, but, man, it is so different when you get in front of an actual group of people. In the moment of presentation, I added or subtracted things in to what I had planned to say and ran late - or early - even I though I thought I had left the right amount of time. Some of my slides either went forward without me, or sat there in an awkward pause. I was too chicken to go back and forth and so, ya, I sounded rushed and short-changed some stories and was a little draggy in other areas. Oops. And so, the lesson learned here is (ta-da):

Rule 1 Do not use timed slides.

And this brings me to that script I wrote out. Looking up at a group of people and then down to a bunch of sentences is confusing, and I lost my place a couple of times. I usually don't write out everything like I did for this presentation, but I wanted to make sure I got all the facts right. What ended up happening is that I felt like I was reading something and not engaging my audience. Or, worse, I was not sure what I was talking about. I don't think I have to memorize a script or anything but I will go back to having just cue cards - I do know my stuff! - and on these, I will:

Rule 2 Write word prompts for presentation notes.

The third thing is an oversight, and I have had a number of people gently tell me the struggled to hear my voice at this event. So strange, for I think I have a deep voice that carries. I guess it is the urge to 'go small' when I have the spotlight. Is this self-protective, I wonder, for if they can't hear me, they can't criticize? I need to get over that if because people came to see me and it is near disrespectful of their time to not speak up so they can hear. Therefore:

Rule 3 Ask the audience if they can hear me, and use a microphone if it is available. 

The final piece of advice, though, was my ah-ha moment, and it could very well make all the difference. As a museum and archives professional, I now think I tend to 'hide' behind the written word. I find writing comforting, for gives me time to edit and research and control the environment in which I pass along my message. But know what? It's passive. And that kind of communication truly is not enough anymore - I have to / need to / want to engage people directly, and hear what they have to say about what I put out there. I was actively seeking interaction when I volunteered to do this presentation. However, it takes a plan to get information across, a methodology, learning goals and adapted educational techniques. Now this may sound odd, especially as my grad studies was designed for collections managers AND educational specialists, but it was the first time I realized just how necessary it is for me to apply strategies when I, personally, share a story in this context. Ya, it's not just 'cool stuff' because I happen to like it. And so the last rule of presenting is for me:

Rule 4 Know why I want to pass this information along.  

I need to be prepared to answer the 'so what?' when I present, and therefore I will be taking an instructional skills workshop in early June to help me gain an understanding around learning and teaching methodologies. I will get a toolbox of tips, and will be up and in front of an audience repeatedly - and be videoed! - to test my effectiveness. This type of experience terrifies me, but is the only way to improve, and I can't tell you how excited I am for this opportunity.

Truly, what I take away from this is that I can't believe how energized I feel - it's like I unlocked a combination of sorts for the work I do. You know that feeling you get when you've dialled to the last number of a combination lock and it falls into your hands? It's like that. So, then, the first 'number' for my archives and museum work is the collections I work with, the second is providing access to this material, and the final is having a focussed message. This opens the door for my audience to fully understand where I'm coming from, provides an opportunity for them to join the conversation, and for the audience to have their own experience with the information put out there.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is truly the main point of the work I do.