Wednesday, October 20, 2021

I Have a Problem with Failure


MUSEUM NOTES 
Jeanne Vergeront 
Vergeront Museum Planning 


I have a problem with failure. Let me be more specific about that. I have a problem with how we celebrate failure, especially for children. 

How many times have you heard, or said yourself: children learn from failure, failure is good for children. We say, fail forward with such certainty and confidence that we believe it. How do we know children learn from failure? Or that it’s good for them? 

Yes, failure is a part of life. Mistakes are inevitable. It’s valuable for children to be able to deal with setbacks. Distress or frustration tolerance is an important life skill to master. And fostering protective factors and resilience has life-long benefits. Is celebrating failure the way to accomplish all that? 

Children, as novices in this world, take on many new things every single day: forming words, riding a bike, making friends, learning to read, helping around the house, understanding the physical world. But block towers crash. Estimates are off. A cherished toy is left on the plane. It’s what happens. Children get hurt and they will experience disappointment. Some setbacks are difficult to observe. 

When there is so much to marvel at in children’s urge to play, their eagerness to try so many things, and their delight in their accomplishments, why are we so eager to celebrate their failures? Remarkably, we even ask them to enjoy their failures.  

Our assumptions about children and failure suggest that we underestimate them and their capabilities. When we see failure as a tool for teaching competence, we are not recognizing that even very young children are already competent learners. They are curious and resourceful. They are already exploring, experimenting, learning, and they are ready to move on to something new. We also underestimate children’s capabilities to follow their interests, assess their capabilities, meet challenges, and ask for help when we make their world too narrow, safe, and predictable. Celebrating failure is, unfortunately, becoming an antidote to relentless perfectionism in the lives of too many children. 

I am puzzled about why we are so certain that how we, as adults, view failure would be the same as a child’s experience of failure. I suspect our adult lens on children’s experiences is clouding our perspective. We confidently assume that we know what’s going on for the child when they climb a tree and can’t get down, spill milk, forget to do their homework, or hurt a friend’s feelings. 

We might consider what the possibility of trying something risky, stretching to meet a challenge, learning something new, or accomplishing a hard task feels like to a child. Fascination with what might happen is powerful; a child wonders what will happen if they try this, then what will happen, and then what will happen next? When things didn’t go as we think they should, we assume failure. The child, however, finds new information, a better idea, something else to try, and moves on. Where we see failure, a child finds an opportunity to figure out how a lid snaps closed, how to slow down a bike, how to make-up with a friend, or build a sturdier fort. 

Before labelling something as a failure, we should consider what’s happening for the child. For instance, what does a child experience as a setback? And what does that mean to them? Especially for young children, an adult idea of success or failure is irrelevant. Children don’t know about failure until we teach them about it, often with sharp words, a look of disappointment, or a rush to fix everything. In play, children often incorporate setbacks into a play narrative, a new construction, or the rules of a game. When a child plays, tinkers, or putters, they don’t have a checklist or time frame as adults do in many areas of child development and education. “Shares with a friend.” CHECK. “Carries a bucket of sand without spilling.” CHECK. 

Championing failure implies that we view life as a test. For children, especially younger children, life is practice, not a constant, on-going set of tasks and tests. By celebrating failure, we are judging all the time, placing everyday happenings on a game field of win-lose, success-failure, right-wrong. Is it really helpful to label an effort a failure and add a dose of shame or embarrassment to how a child understands what happened? Lost a mitten? Dropped something down the drain; knocked over the glass vase, didn’t make the team? 

What else are we saying by celebrating failure? There's a message that we value failure over persistence or having new ideas. That adults’ naming failure takes precedence over children understanding and incorporating what they’ve learned, or finding new ways to solve their problems. Ironically, by calling out failure we might just be stigmatizing rather than celebrating it. 

True failure does exist and should not be trivialized. We don’t, however, need to celebrate failure in order to accept that life and learning are seamless ways of wondering, exploring, finding out, and growing. Richard Feynman, 1965 Nobel Prize Winner in Physics reminds us: 

    Being wrong is not a bad thing like they teach you in school. 
It is an opportunity to learn something. 
There are no mistakes, only lessons. 
Growth is a process of trial and error. 

We might fail less and celebrate accomplishments more if we were to create physical and social-emotional environments and experiences for children in museums, classrooms, playgrounds, backyards, and homes that: 
  • Value persistence and having ideas 
  • Highlight open-ended materials and activities 
  • Encourage focus and absorption 
  • Make room for children to choose and follow their choices 
  • Manage expectations and patience 
  • Invite conversation about ideas and what’s happening 
  • Trust children to direct their play, exploration, and learning 
  • Celebrate accomplishments, small and large 
  • Let play happen; in play, outcomes are undefined, consequences are minimal 

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Seeing Ourselves as Learners


MUSEUM NOTES 
Jeanne Vergeront 
Vergeront Museum Planning 



Photo Credit: Anagram Bookshop

Fresh from a recent 2-hour Zoom with my Thursday morning thinking group, I wondered what I would do without them and, for that matter, without my Wednesday afternoon talk group. For years these lively, meandering conversations have excited my mind, introduced me to new ideas, and dislodged me from some brittle certainties. They have sharpened my thinking for some Museum Notes posts. To be honest, these rich collegial conversations (along with videos of babies and dogs) have recharged and delighted me over these pandemic years. 

So, when I watched Paul Orselli’s FAQ interview with Dr. Preeti Gupta and Dr. Lynn Tran on professional learning’s role in rebuilding the museum field, my mind took off to think about museum staff and volunteers as learners. 

Learning happens everywhere, all the time and over time. All of us, from all walks of life, throughout our lives, learn in everyday moments, casually, in virtually every setting we are in. We learn at home, work, school; on-line, in the garden and on walks; when we talk to neighbors over the fence or travel the world. We are constantly adding to, tinkering with, or revising our thinking and learning. That’s just the way it is in this world and it's just the way we are as humans. 

Photo: Portland Children's Museum
We are so wired to learn from birth that we almost have to try to not learn. Still, we do have to work to continue learning in meaningful, relevant ways to stay abreast with our dynamic world and changes in our jobs, museums, communities, and ourselves. We encounter new technologies, theories, perspectives, relationships, vocabulary, health research, etc. all the time. 

How do we prepare ourselves as individuals and as professionals for these changes? How do we keep up with, be invigorated by, and enjoy the changes we encounter? Discover and explore new ideas? I can’t think of another way than to grow ourselves as active, engaged learners, the kind of learners we hope our visitors are. 

Of course, we all grow somewhat as museum learners, but I am certain we could grow more as self-directed, supported learners if we were more intentional and viewed our learning more broadly. I have found myself thinking about the following questions. 

• How do we square our explicit museum commitment to advance learning without also committing to being active, intentional learners ourselves? 
• What limits supporting vibrant learning communities among colleagues? 
• How can we engage and support learners in a vibrant, on-going museum learning community? 
• Why not get started right now? 

How do we square our explicit museum commitment to advance learning without also committing to being active, intentional learners ourselves? This is a critical question to address honestly. Museums liberally sprinkle their visions, missions, and values with learning; life-long learning; education and educational. Learning is at the heart of other ideas: expanding public knowledge, an ever-deeper understanding, or engage, educate, and enlighten. Museums identify as places of informal learning and as part of the learning ecosystem. They focus on family learning, early learning, and experiential learning. Websites highlight how museums accomplish their learning interests—educational outreach, field trips, teaching strategies, innovative learning experiences, and PD workshops for teachers. Museums often talk about co-constructing experiences with visitors, but less so about co-constructing knowledge among colleagues. 

Being true to museums’ roles and responsibilities means seeing ourselves as learners, infusing our work with an energy around our learning as well as visitors’. It means working in a state of curiosity, questions, ideas and making meaning together. This is a responsibility of both the organization and its staff and volunteers. 

What limits supporting vibrant learning communities among colleagues? Time, always scarce, is inevitably the big hurdle in growing a robust learning community among colleagues. We are busy, often carrying large workloads which hardly allows enough time to cover everything; schedules vary. Unfortunately, time is also critical for growing a community of learners. It is necessary for reading, reflecting, and discussing articles, studies, and ideas; for exploring complex issues in a meaningful way; for following ideas and integrating practices into the museum’s work; for tracking impact; and, for building trust. Professional growth during brown bag lunches simply doesn’t communicate that the activity is valued as much as saving time is. 

Funding is also critical to staff learning being a priority. Realistically, professional growth isn’t likely to reduce costs. More likely it will add costs and compete for time with demands of job responsibilities. Fortunately, other benefits accrue: improved staff satisfaction, innovative strategies, greater collegiality and long-time friendships; and increased capacity and impact. 
Mini-YMEC reunion at ASTC:
Paul Richard & Paul Tatter

How we see ourselves as thinkers and learners plays out here as well. While we come into our positions with expertise and skill, we may not question 5 or 10 years later how sharp our skills are. When confident in our expertise and experience in our area, we may not challenge assumptions, consider new scholarship, or try new practices. So busy doing, preparing, and moving to the next set of deadlines, we assume our work has a beginning and end rather than fits into repeating cycles which invite reflection and learning. 

Responsibility for professional growth may receive inadequate attention in a museum, as an afterthought, or tucked into “other duties as assigned.” A patchwork of responsibilities in HR, department budgets, or director’s choice means required training tops the list and annual conferences are automatically approved. Midyear budget trimming takes a bite out of it. 

A robust professional growth and development program is not an item on a checklist, but an expression of a museum’s values, its commitment to its people, a belief in its impact, and its investment in its future. It takes time, resources, collaboration, and imagination. 

How can we engage and support museum learners in a vibrant, on-going museum learning community? Conjure up the most powerful professional learning experience you’ve ever had, something that really inspired you, changed your perspective, or energized you to do something differently. Was it discovering a new practice? A deeper understanding of a familiar concept? Glimpsing how to engage more effectively with visitors? And what about it was so valuable? Navigating diverse perspectives? Extended time with colleagues? Time to consider ideas critically? Moving at your own pace? 

As informal learning settings, museums start with an advantage in creating learning experiences that are participatory, learner-directed, offer choice, and reflect an understanding of adult learners. Then, museums limit themselves to a few formats like trainings and conferences to deliver targeted professional content. This contrasts with museums encouraging staff to shape experiences that reflect their own learning interests. 

These interests vary widely across any museum. Staff may be brand new or long serving; have a museum background or not; have practical or philosophical inclinations; be drawn to local or national issues. Still, everyone deserves access to professional learning and growth opportunities that suit them. The following examples (many of which are, unfortunately, no longer active) illustrate just how wide-open learning opportunities can be, opportunities where museum learners adapt formats, play with group size, and modify along the way. 

Thinking Groups, self-forming groups of practitioners, are connected by an interest such as facilitation, design thinking, assessment and documentation, early years, or cultural competency. Thinking groups are flexible. Small or large, they may be contained within a museum or reach across museums, link with academic or other settings. Familiar in museums as communities of practice (CoP), members get together regularly around a shared concern or a passion for something they do and learn how to do it better together. 

Thinking—or working—groups may be formed to address museum as well as field-wide needs such as regional support networks, leadership development; and exhibit resources. Thirty years after two groups of children’s museums formed YMEC (Youth Museum Exhibit Collaborative) and MC2 exhibit collaboratives (Midwest Children’s Museum Collaborative), members still talk about how much they grew professionally through their involvement, sharing with others, and solving problems together. 

Extended Inquiry is not just for evaluators and researchers, not just for scientists, and not just for grants. Rather, on-going inquiry can be carried out with colleagues at a museum and in other places with shared interests. Do you have a chewy question? Most everyone does—about their practice, learning, observation, the power of objects that can be explored through various approaches. Team-based Inquiry and collaborative action research are two just examples of processes. 

Years ago, I facilitated several groups of K-12 teachers engaged in year-long action research projects. These teachers spent the school year questioning, observing, introducing new strategies, reflecting, and changing their practice in areas of importance to them. They were invigorated by formulating research questions that mattered to them, critiquing their own classroom practice in order to change it, and thinking with colleagues. 

Small group reflection in Reggio 2013
Study Tours, focused group-learning experiences, combine travel with an extended investigation of an approach, set of practices, or other settings. A 2013 museum study tour allowed 52 participants on 9 museum teams along with partners from research, higher ed, design, and early childhood to participate in an 8-day study tour of the municipal schools of Reggio Emilia (Italy). With daily presentations by early childhood specialists, educators and studio teachers, visits to the infant-toddler centers and preschools, a tour of the Documentation and Educational 

Research Center, and facilitated reflections, the study tour allowed extended amounts of time for exploring and reflecting which is typically absent from professional learning experiences. Study tours can involve less time and money while maintaining the benefits of exploring other settings with group visits to arts organizations, libraries and nature centers, or behind-the-scene tours of museums. 

• Museums have book groups for their members (http://www.museumedu.org/museum-book-clubs/); why not for staff? Reading groups can take many forms: be small or large; sample topics or deep dive into a subject; be in-person or virtual; include one or multiple departments or museums; be facilitated or open-discussion. What they have in common is a shared experience with varied perspectives, new research, content connections; and time for lively discussion. 

In the mid 1990’s ASTC fielded an NEH-funded project for staff in museums in 3 areas, Boston, Twin Cities, and the Bay Area to read a number of classic books paired with science exhibits. Books included Plato’s Meno, Swift’s Gulliver's Travels, Shelley’s Frankenstein, and Keller’s A Feeling for the Organism. Discussions were facilitated in seminars by St John’s College tutors including Tom Simpson. A participant in the project, I found the readings and discussions both strenuous and invigorating. This project stands out as rich and multi-layered, an impressive invitation to learn together. 

What many, if not most, of these professional growth opportunities have in common is that personal choice and external support are built into them. They involve shared interests, growing relationships, continuity over time, building trust, and offering a sense of comfort and safety. 
Design Thinking Boot Camp:
Minnesota Children's Museum

Why not get started right now? The list 
doesn’t have to end there. Be inventive; 
shape your own professional learning experiences. 
Be bold! What about a boot camp, your very 
own think tank, or a symposium? Start with 
what sparks your curiosity. What you want 
to know more about: adult learning? the 
socio-cultural context in learning? tinkering 
for elders? What topics in articles, journals, 
and blogs have made you light up thinking, 
“Yes! I’ve been waiting for that!” Look 
below at some resources that might move 
you and your colleagues forward and build 
some momentum towards a museum 
professional learning community. 
 
Form a group, even a small group of two or three. Name it to help get it going. I once started a group called “The Little Big Ideas Club” with two friends. We had ideas for projects that we wanted to explore; they weren’t big or remarkable project ideas. 

Join an existing talking or thinking group like NISE Network’s Team-based Inquiry. 

Check-out the following links or websites. These resources are for different audiences, evaluators, scientists, educators, the problem finders, and the curious. Most resources link to tools and more resources. You will surely find something.