Terri's Journal: Week Six

I'd like to use this week's post to discuss a part of working at a museum that is perhaps a little more abstract.

When I say abstract, I essentially mean the feeling I get while in close proximity to objects of the past. Perhaps you know the feeling I mean: that sense of connection to lives that existed before your own. It can be found in old photographs of familiar places, in a story told so well that it creates empathy for people a hundred years dead. That’s the feeling that made me want to work here.

I’ve done some dusting around the exhibits since I’ve been here, and there is a strange thrill to be had in touching historical objects, even if it is underscored by a tense fear that I’ll break something. Part of it, I will admit, is the child in me that revels in touching things behind a sign that clearly reads “do not touch.” But, another part is that sense of connection to people of the past whether it’s “can you imagine having to cook with that every day?” or “I used a mailbox just like that when I was a kid.” 

Some people, to put it bluntly, see museums as boring. That’s a perception I’ll never personally understand. As my friend put it when I told him I had the opportunity to interview here, “That sounds boring – you’ll love it!” To me (and, as a writer, this is the most important thing there is) history is a story. Each day we add a little bit to the narrative. A museum’s job is to piece together the threads of that story, not to be the author, or the censor, but the editor.

Terri