Monday, March 5, 2018

Prelude to a Learning Framework




Conducting the Effektorium at the Mendelssohn-Bartholdy Museum   

Recently I was asked a question that I often hear, “How do we start developing a learning framework?” While the question is basically the same from one query to another, the context supplied by the following sentence varies.

• In the past we’ve had educational philosophies that we talked about, but that deep focus on what learning is and how the museum supports both has been missing.
• Our learning framework was developed as part of planning our new museum (or during a growth spurt); so much has changed since then and we know so much more about what happens here.
• We opened recently and our exhibit master plan which guided us through the expansion isn’t relevant in going forward.
• We developed a learning framework awhile ago. Its advocates have moved on and we have new staff who don’t feel a sense of ownership in that framework.
• We do have a learning framework that we have used heavily. It’s no longer current and we need to update it.
• We recently completed a strategic plan; it calls for our becoming a leader in learning in our community.
• We have a new Executive Director who had a learning framework at the previous museum and thinks we need one too.
• We’re gearing up for a major project (i.e. expansion, renovation, move). Our internal team will grow and we’ll be working with advisors and consultants. We need something that can guide all of us.
• Our community has changed and we’re not as relevant as we should be.
• We have grown a lot recently in attendance and staff; now our internal culture needs work around shared ideas about what learning is at our museum.

In spite of the noticeable differences among the museums described above–new museums, established museums, museums embarking on change, museums consolidating recent gains–these museums have something important in common. They are navigating the changing realities in which they operate: shifting societal issues and concerns, changing population, growing expectations of the museum, and an evolving learning landscape. Changes occur internally as well in organizational priorities, culture, and practices.

Whether planned or unplanned, external or internal, these dynamics impact a museum’s long-term learning value to its community. As the comments above indicate, such changes require action including new advances around a museum’s long-term learning interests. The need for a learning framework may be readily apparent or may take time to come into focus. Once a museum decides it needs a framework around learning, how it proceeds will vary according to its mission, audience, and perspective on learning. It will also be informed by how it works internally and engages its community in its work.

Many, if not most, museums are likely to take some preliminary steps as they decide on their approach to consolidating their most important ideas about learning and increasing their value as a learning resource. An informal prelude to a more formal process is a prime opportunity to prepare, to start slowly and build momentum towards a full effort when the time is right.

Build internal interest and support. A learning framework that will serve a museum’s long-term learning interests will have meaning for the entire organization. Developing it will actively engage some and will require the support of virtually all. Make time to talk informally with staff and trustees. What do they think a learning framework could accomplish for the museum? How would it help advance other priorities?  What do they think it should cover? What are their concerns about the process and the framework itself? Growing the circle of interest and support will be helpful during development of the framework and its implementation.

Take stock of how the museum’s learning interests are currently expressed. Whether a museum’s long-term learning interests are clearly articulated or not, they are present in some way. Assess what these interests are, how and where they are expressed, and how aware others are of them. Gather and read over grant proposals that describe the museum’s approach to learning and its impact. What do they say (and not say) that a learning framework might address? Gather articles, books, white papers, blogs, and research reports referenced within your museum or recommended by staff. Who are the theorists referred to most often? Ask staff about whose ideas around learning informs their thinking.

Learn from colleagues. Because more museums increasingly have developed and are updating learning frameworks, they are great sources of information. Contact colleagues at other museums about their learning frameworks; the various processes and approaches they have used; sections they have added and deleted; and different formats they have used. Ask about how they use the framework–and how much. Find out what they would do differently next time to strengthen their framework and make it more user friendly. Check out the work of Children’s Museum Research Network and the Spring 2016 issue of Hand To Hand.

Leverage strengths: Every museum has learning assets that relate to areas of expertise where it invests resources and intends to have visible impact. For one museum it might be strong community partnerships, for another a large and well-prepared docent cohort; it could be making as a learning strategy or a commitment to interdisciplinary learning. Look into how those areas might be incorporated into the process of developing the framework. For instance, could the museum hold conversations with partners and community leaders about how they view learning and the museum's role? Which of the museum’s strengths are most relevant to the community’s challenges and promise? Where are the best opportunities for advancing the museum’s learning interests?

Think outside the framework. The most important thing for a learning framework to accomplish is to develop a cohesive outlook across the organization on how the museum matters as a learning resource to its visitors and community. Arriving at this shared understanding should come from an engaging, productive process with lively discussion and deepening understanding. Prepare chewy questions: what is informal learning in our museum's context? What kind of learning is important here? Consider different ways to explore, capture, and communicate ideas and the relationships among them. Is a mind map of learning processes more helpful than a list? How does visually representing the relationship between learning processes, activities, and impacts help convey learning’s complexity? Perhaps the final framework is actually a giant illustrated poster rather than a thick, or even a thin, report.

Do any of the museum situations described at the top of this post resonate with the situation your museum is in? If so, you may be poised to develop a learning framework with and for your museum. Taking time early on to prepare will make a helpful difference along the way and in the framework you create. Additional resources below might be of help.

Related Museum Notes Posts

Monday, February 19, 2018

More than We Imagine: Imagination

Alex Chinneck
Imagination is one of those words–or ideas–along with creative, curious, inventive, etc. that we use freely and, in my mind, sling around altogether too easily. I do this myself. Then one day, that word or idea suddenly insists on being considered newly, seriously, in another light. It demands I pay attention to what I am saying, what I mean…or at least what I think we mean.

Most of us have our own definition(s) of imagination. Yet, each of us probably means something different when we do so. We may think of imagination as holding an image in our mind. Sometimes we refer to imagination as a recreation of something that exists and sometimes as something that is far from reality that we have made up. We find imagination in mission statements, learning frameworks, and outcomes. We invite visitors to, "Learn, imagine, create." We like to quote Einstein’s assertion that “Imagination is more important than knowledge".  Sometimes we use imagination, creativity, and fantasy interchangeably.

In this mix, we do find clues about imagination as we commonly know it. It is a mental representation of a thought or an idea. It is pretending, leans into fantasy, and is associated with creativity. This, however, is a limited view of imagination and its potential. This is hardly surprising considering the complex, interconnected nature of the mind and its processes.

Imagination is more than sparking ideas, pretending to be a pirate or fairy princess, or daydreaming. Entwined with knowledge, thinking, and experience, imagination is a source of knowledge as well as transforms knowledge. Through imagination we both learn about reality and escape from reality through imagination.

I recently came across a definition for imagination (referencing Crespi et al) in an article in American Journal of Play by Larry Vandervert (Vol. 9, No. 2. December 2017).

The term ‘imagination’ is considered here as the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses, typically derived from creative integration of past experiences, learning, or other information…production of novelty through imagination thus takes place through deriving elements of verbal or visual thought from perception and memory and combining them in new ways.

Besides the title, “Vygotsky Meets Neuroscience,” several things drew my attention. First, I seldom come across a pause in an article or book to define a term like imagination, let alone one that distinguishes a faculty from a disposition from a quality. Like most people, I was familiar with imagination as forming something new. But I had thought less about the sources for these novel ideas or images, something the next part of the definition addressed.

Imagination draws from multiple, extensive sources of ideas and images–what we have learned, experienced and remember; what we are perceiving now; and what we are not immediately sensing but have previously experienced. We can form images of objects and spaces that are visible and sensible and that are hidden too. We can even form new images in our minds based on something we have not experienced or only partially experienced with the help of what we have seen, heard, or felt before. Imaginings don’t need to be finished or complete.

Consequently imagination serves as a faculty for considering what is possible that is not now happening, for considering alternative actions, and even for changing the rules for possible worlds. If we can integrate past experiences, learning, and information, we can resolve a conflict, design a new strategy to deal with a vexing problem, step into new situations, remake failed systems, create a more compassionate world, discover new forms of expression, open doors to new thinking.

Imagination in the Everyday-Extraordinary
When we imagine, we are not just extracting images from a mental vault. Rather we are plumbing for and remixing ideas and images, sounds, sensations, and memories in fresh, novel, original ways. In response to the moment and situation or to some prompt we may not even be aware of, we connect facts not ordinarily viewed together, we invert normal circumstances, and we bridge what is here and not-here. The more I look into imagination, the more I see its rich and varied expressions in the ordinary and extraordinary moments across our lives and lifespans.

Assisted by our imaginations, we navigate through space, moving from place to place, exploring, and going on adventures. When we think about our location, where we want to go, and how to get there, we are projecting our movement through space on an imaginary map. We imagine different routes to get to the same place and walk, bike, or drive there…when we are not using Google Maps.

Empathy, important in social relations, understanding and caring for others, involves recognizing and imagining what someone else might be feeling, experiencing, or saying. Bringing to mind what it might be like for another person dealing with a situation or feelings can help us plan how to welcome, include, listen, help, and engage with them.

In a similar way, assuming another perspective involves imagining what we might sense or understand if we were in another–or another person’s–position. Much like a hypothesis, we can imagine what their position, size, vantage point, or previous experiences might afford them, without actually seeing what they are actually doing or where they are. We work with another vantage point when we take turns, play a game, or collaborate.   

Nazca Lineas, Peru (Photo Diego Delso)
Engaging our imaginations allows us to mentally travel beyond the here-and-now. In suspending the present time and place, we imagine far away landscapes and places, distant times, and other cultures. Feeling as if we are stepping into a painting or a photograph, walking through the glass into a diorama, entering a story, living in the historic past changes our connection to the world and, for the moment, to ourselves.

Imagination is sometimes a creative response to what is being experienced or dreamed. We construct imagined worlds, small and large, with powerful words, arresting images, deep stories, and evocative objects. Fiction, art, and music are imaginations that not only take us to another place and time but also offer a different truth about the world.

Imagination stretches from the deepest personal meaning for each of us into new futures for all of us. On an individual scale, imagination is a companion to our evolving selves. It provides us with visions of who we might be, who we want to become, and how we might change. At the same time, imagination allows us to glimpse what is possible in an uncertain future–at that moment–a moment that moves on. We don’t know the outcome of the imagined change, but we’ve had that glimpse and what we saw can change us.

Expanding Imagination
Everyone has an imagination, a powerful tool for navigating daily routines, meeting small and large challenges, delighting ourselves, and moving our thinking to new places. This marvel rests right at the convergence of museums’ interests around learning, connecting with people, and changing lives.

How can museums create the conditions that stimulate, engage, and support the imaginations of visitors, staff, volunteers, and trustees?

Time is one significant condition for encouraging imagination. When we play, explore, act on our curiosity, wonder, tinker, pursue interests, figure out how things work, and play with different facts, our imaginations flex and flourish. This benefits from–or perhaps requires–time for sinking into the moment and following it. Museums are well aware of the challenges of limited time and escaping from its constraints. They know to take time into account in creating experiences, eliminating distractions, and scaling experiences to available time. Museums can also work with their own imaginations to develop:

• Rich, multi-sensory experiences
• Invitations to be a novice
• Reasons to go beyond the current time and space
• Experiences and opportunities that engage and provoke
• Reasons to exercise their own imagination

Rich, multi-sensory experiences. Imagination allows us to form new ideas, images, and concepts of external objects that are not immediately present to our senses. Nevertheless, we need to nourish and enrich these very senses. The sights, sounds, textures, and sometimes smells and flavors of museum environments and experiences engage our senses, evoke memories, and offer new connections. While strongly multi-sensory, museums must also be thoughtful about creating evocative, relevant, and meaningful sensory experiences that attune and heighten our awareness of our senses. 

Invitations to be a novice. Children are novices in their world yet they understand enough about how the world works to have hunches and make predictions about what might happen or explain why something happened in the past. With their imaginations they explore, think about, and understand other ways the world might work and possible ways people might act. Adults too can be novices in situations, not fully understanding how things work and using their imaginations to test possibilities and work out problems.

Reasons to go beyond the current time and space. Our imaginations allow us to reach beyond the apparent limitations of our current place and moment. Sometimes we need a reason to go past our here-and-now; a way to step into someone else’s shoes; and dislocate from this time and place. In the experiences museums create are opportunities that can shift perspectives, develop empathy, deepen connections, and engage others in an historical experience. 

Experiences and opportunities that engage and provoke. Sometimes museums design experiences a little too completely, leaving insufficient room for visitors and learners to fill in with their imaginations, questions, creativity, experiments, and previous experiences. In celebrating and featuring others’ creativity or imaginations, we may be encouraging visitors to be observers and consumers of other’s creativity rather producers of their own imaginative ideas. We can never replace the power and excitement of conjuring our own new worlds or fresh possibilities.

Reasons to exercise their own imaginations. Occasionally, if not often, we must all stretch and recharge our own imaginative capacities. We need to pause and bring out something we can’t immediately sense at that moment, think of how things might possibly be, or simply change the context in which we view ideas. Without some practice and fluency with the nature and workings of imagination, we limit ourselves in our thinking about shaping museum experiences, preparing the environment, selecting materials, listening to visitors, stepping back, and allowing things to unfold.

How does your museum view imagination and its role in learning for visitors and for the museum? In what ways does the museum encourage, support, and extend imagination in the experiences it creates and in its practices across the museum?


Resources
• Achim, Marianne. (2016). The Role of Imagination inMuseum Visits. Nordisk Museologi 2016•1,s. 89-100 
• Crespi, Bernard J., Emma Leach, Natalie Dinsdale, Michael Mokkonen, and Peter Hurd. 2016. “Imagination in Human Social Cognition, Autism, and Psychotic-Affective Conditions.” Cognition 150:181-99. P. 182.
• Gopnik, Alison. (2009). The Philosophical Baby: What Children’s Minds Tell Us About Truth, Love, and the Meaning of Life. New York: Picador. 2009.
• Spock, Dan. (2009) Imagination: A Child’s Gateway to Engagement in Rainey, D. Lynn and John Russick (Eds.) Connecting Kids to History with Museum Exhibitions. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press, Inc.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Mid-winter Museum Meander

Annual Luminary Loppet on Lake of the Isles
Winters are cold in Minnesota. We’re used to it and make the most of it. Even in winter folks in the Twin Cities walk, commute by bike, and go to the dog park. In winter we skate and ski on the lakes. People ice fish and celebrate the ice shanty as art. Some people even go skijorling on the city lakes–skiing pulled by dogs. Annual events like the Lumiary Loppet celebrate the beauty of cold, dark, and precious light.

In a recent run of sub-zero nights (the longest since the 1890’s…yes, 1890’s) and blizzard conditions accompanying deep-sub-zero daytime temperatures, I took a walk among beauty, surprise, and remarkable views. I visited the MIA (or mia), Minneapolis Institute of Arts. A mere 1.5 miles from my house, the MIA has what feel like miles of galleries and halls on 3 floors across almost 500,000 square feet of space. Its free general admission is a blessing, especially in this weather.

After shedding layers of fleece and down at the coat check, I climbed to the third floor and arrived in Europe and America 1600 – 1900. I started my stroll through some of the 43 galleries covering 1600 – 1900 including period rooms, walking, slowing, reading labels, watching people, eavesdropping (just a little), and resting now and then. As I went, I speeded up and slowed down, pausing for what caught my eye: a writing desk c. 1870 attributed to William Howard an enslaved and later free man; a 19th century Arrangement with Flowers by Georgius Jacobus Van Os; Delacroix’s Convulsionists of Tangier painted from 1837-1838; a sculpture of Diana with a Bow (1890) by Frederick William MacMonnies; and, for good snowy measure, Paul Signac’s Snow, Boulevard de Clichy, Paris, 1886. 
Snow falling on the park and city
My ramble through the 19th century was in some ways much like a city stroll. Views of paintings and sculptures alternated with views of snow falling on trees and shrubs in the adjacent park capped by the city skyline.

A quiet moment in the period reading room







Judging from the traffic near the period rooms, I wasn’t alone in searching out a mid-winter museum meander to escape from the cold. Traffic was thick and punctuated by comments and conversation around the 10-12 period rooms. Maybe configuration of the rooms opening off a long narrow gallery suggested a neighborhood, a casual ramble, and friendly comments to passersby. A family looking into the Duluth Living Room shared its questions with one another and with strangers who were also leaning over the rail. “Who made that furniture, Dad?” “Didn’t we see that lake before?” “Look at that telephone.” “It’s so dark in there.”

MIA’s Living Rooms, temporary installations in selected period rooms, animated the spaces and informed visitor interactions and conversations. As light transformed a 17th century drawing room from day to night, visitors guessed the time of day, shivered at an eerie feel of the room, and imagined they were at the party playing cards. 
Jet-pack powered sisters explore the universe for art
In the Jane Austen Reading Room, I came across a women–a visitor–lounging in a chair, reading, and looking very much at home. She had taken the theme of the next room, Science and Sociability quite seriously. 

Mid-afternoon, the Europe and America 1600 – 1900 galleries and Period Rooms started filling with families with young children. As the second Sunday of the month, it was Family Day. Its theme was, “To the Moon!” Children were wearing the jet-packs they had constructed, carried the lunar landscapes they’d painted, and worked with their families on a Gallery Hunt for art that promised to be, “out of this world.” Families were huddled around maps; children checked labels up close and argued their case for clues to the artwork being described on the hunt. Other children wandered off finding a painting to look at quietly.

When my meander was finished I stood in line to pick up my winter layers. Surrounded by children also waiting for their gear, I heard one child after another talk about what they’d been doing. Some described the clues they’d found; some mentioned children who had helped others put clues together; some relished reliving the moment they found objects in the painting. Then we all left the warmth of the mid-winter museum meander and headed into the cold and snowy north. 
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Thursday, January 18, 2018

Four Years Later: Reflections on 2013 Museums Study Tour to Reggio




Ray of Light Studios continue to inspire
In November 2013, 50 participants from 11 museums with partners from higher ed, libraries, community organizations, early childhood, and preschools traveled to Reggio Emilia in northern Italy for a study tour of the city’s schools. Over the course of a week, the group was immersed in the pedagogy of the municipal schools with presentations by early childhood specialists, educators, and studio teachers; visits to infant-toddler centers and preschools; and tours of documentation and recycle centers.

Returning from the November 2013 Museums Study Tour Reggio participants shared their experiences with colleagues and area teachers. One group of participants organized a full day pre-conference for InterActivity 2014 in Phoenix. Attended by more than 30 the conference was followed by a set of articles, Adopting/Adapting: Reggio in Children’s Museums, in the spring 2014 issue of Hand To Hand.

Since then participants have been active in exploring these ideas more deeply, engaging in and adapting Reggio-inspired practice to museum and school settings. Work ranges from events with visibility like Tacoma Children’s Museum’s annual co-sponsorship of Symposium on Our Youngest Citizens to personal acts of rereading notebooks and journals from the weeklong visit. In some of the groups such as South Dakota Children’s Museum and Opal School, Reggio practices are foundational, embedded into the work, and supported by the shared experience of several study tour participants. In other cases individuals intently and patiently have looked for opportunities to weave these ideas into existing “duties as assigned.”  

Our group: November 2013
Recently I proposed to the study tour participants that we look back at this remarkable opportunity and share our reflections with one another. A dozen study tour participants, approximately one-quarter of the group, wrote and talked about their experience in Reggio and its presence in their work now. A continuing energy and appreciation for the roomy ideas we were able to explore comes through all of the reflections. The opportunity to visit schools, observe children, and listen to seasoned Reggio educators over the week added depth and dimension to understanding this complex pedagogy and increased awareness of the rigor that guides it. Moments stand out, shifting perspectives on existing practice were noted, and new questions have emerged. Yet, these reflections also indicate the challenging, on-going, and some times lonely nature of this work, work variously described as a life-long journey and a struggle to weave learning from Reggio into daily work.

As I reflected on connections between the study tour and what these participants have been doing, thinking, and wondering about, several threads emerged. They are, hopefully, invitations to further reflections, questions, and explorations.

•                Moments from the 2013 study tour still stand out vividly 4 years later. Illuminated moments around the relationship between aesthetics and ethics; children as citizens now; and the child’s agency have become touchstones and provocations for continued thinking and further exploration.  

•          Consistent with Reggio philosophy, relationship and collaboration characterize on-going work among study tour participants. Participants were encouraged to apply with museum, school, or community colleagues and many pairs and groups did so. Hence, it’s not surprising that relationships among participants have grown and are active. Less predictable, however, is that the study tour group has become a kind of Reggio-inspired network for its participants, building on pre-existing relationships, strengthening connections, and offering new associations. 

Adapting Reggio to the museum: from the final reflection
•                The complexity of Reggio ideas combined with the challenge of translating them into new contexts invites collaboration around projects. Appreciation of the challenge of translating practices into another culture and contexts in meaningful ways is very apparent. This challenge points to the importance, or perhaps necessity, of thinking together about these rich, complex ideas. Projects have been instrumental in adapting Reggio ideas and practices to other settings.

•                Four years after the study tour, the hopes and possibilities of Reggio-inspired connections, conversations, small experiments, and projects are coming to fruition in some of our museums and schools. This is encouraging in several ways. In museums such a time frame is typical, even short, for major projects, re-imagining a museum, or changing course. Learning, adapting, and meaningful change take time. Undoubtedly, promising connections and new projects that will emerge in perhaps 4-5 years are incubating now.

Looking Back
Four years after the museums study tour, 16 years after my first study tour, and 24+ years after first being introduced to Reggio, I am as drawn to the question of how one transforms thinking and practice as I am to the hardworking principles of Reggio pedagogy itself. The principles of the child as a born thinker, doer, and planner; the 100 Languages of children (or learning); the environment as the third teacher; and the role of pedagogical documentation continue to be compelling. They bring an aesthetic to thinking and learning that is powerful. I am keen to explore these ideas with others more knowledgeable than I am and I want to share them with others who indicate the slightest interest in related ideas such as exploring materials, asking new questions, or children as citizens.

Because I don’t work in a museum, school, or a firm with others, I have “borrowed” the participants on the 2013 study tour and their museums, schools, and firms to serve as a kind of community of learners for me. I check in on-line, meet-up at conferences, and stay in touch via email with these colleagues. I follow activities like the Children’s Museum of Tacoma’s annual Symposium on Our Youngest Citizens and read the Opal School blog. Opal’s thoughtful posts help shape an image for me of a culture of following ideas and connections and creating movement in thinking for children and teachers.

Diving into these ideas in various ways–through reading, writing, and talking; trying out small experiments; and folding them into my museum planning practice–keeps them present, active, and evolving. Members of the local MN Reggio-inspired network are a great source of Reggio-inspired, related, and connected blogs that are local, national, and international. Exploring Reggio-inspired ideas on my Museum Notes blog pushes me to dig into, unpack, and rethink documentation, the image of the child, the environment as teacher, learning together, etc.

New Starting Points
Strong, capable agents in
thinking, doing, and connecting
My planning work with museums most readily lends itself to advancing an image of the child as strong, capable, and an active agent in their thinking and learning. While not an easy shift from how we as a culture view children, I have found this to be an accessible entry point for a team or museum. It does not require a deep understanding or commitment to the Reggio pedagogy yet it goes to the core of a transformative view of children. It also resonates personally with a desire in each of us to be viewed as capable and appreciated for our strengths. This can lower resistance to a new idea.

With an image of the “rich” child as an organizational value, at the center of learning frameworks, or in experience planning, a museum is poised to make a fundamental shift. Here is an opening for other practices, perhaps developing a shared vocabulary around the strong child, the possibility of a child-driven experience planning process, or the use of documentation to make thinking visible. It may prompt new questions about children’s–and adults’–capabilities and how parents, caregivers, and staff can support, extend, and deepen explorations.

Along with this work, a few museum planning projects have offered opportunities to explore Reggio ideas in the context of museums with like-minded colleagues. Time together with Maeryta Medrano and Julia Bland on the study tour further inspired and grounded approaches to exhibit design, caregiver engagement, graphics and text for the “new” Louisiana Children’s Museum. In a collaborative project between Minnesota Children’s Museum and the Reggio-inspired Network of MN, teachers, parents, and caregivers documented children’s questions and thinking about places that make up communities as part of the redesign of MCM’s Our World gallery.   

Reflections from Reggio
I am fortunate that the Twin Cities has an active, robust Reggio-inspired network I can draw on in this work. Since its founding in 2000, the Network has grown and now offers varied entry points and activities, encouraging self-forming groups: monthly materials explorations, a book study group, and documentation lab. A group around big body play is active. 

Most weeks I am able to join 2 Reggio-inspired educators who encourage and challenge me with their reading, questions, and ideas. For the last 15 months we have been reading from the Contesting Early Childhood series by Routledge. We think together about the conditions that encourage the dispositions in educators and policy makers to be open, creative, and reflective. Often in these moments I am able to glimpse how the rich, hardworking ideas I have found in Reggio interact and take hold with the power to transform.