On 1 May 2024 we hosted our first Royal Society of Edinburgh (RSE), University of Stirling (UoS), and King’s College London (KCL) supported ‘emotions in museum work’ event. We will be reporting later on its emerging themes (including at this conference). For now, we have been pondering an unexpected response to the event. This was summed up through participant feedback:
‘You created a really warm and nurturing psychological space of us all.’
‘The day’s structure + atmosphere of exchange and friendliness have all been brilliant! I also really appreciated all the expectation setting + permission to take breaks.’
‘I loved how hopeful the day was’
‘I came away from it energised’
‘Loved the careful & thoughtful framing of the session as a safe space’
Similar sentiments were expressed on the day. Participants commented on – what we have come to think of as being – the workshop’s ‘tone’ or ‘feeling’ which helped support (as several participants noted) ‘deep’ conversations and reflections. Partly, we might deduce this was from bringing together museum practitioners and academic researchers. The day’s format of two opening keynotes, brief provocations, and group discussions also helped. Yet, in planning and designing the workshop, at the forefront of our minds was to attempt to create a particular kind of practical, intellectual, and (not least) affective space that would bolster conversations we were hopeful might (and certainly did!) emerge on emotions in museum work.
So, what else helped create this space?
First, funding to support (as many as our funding-streams enabled) our participants’ travel and other costs to attend was, we think, crucial. We are hugely grateful for support from the RSE for covering speaker travel costs, and for UoS and KCL for covering attendee travel costs. Given discussion emerged at the workshop on how to adequately recognise and compensate emotional labour, acknowledging the importance of funding is not inconsequential.
Next, we felt it vital to establish a code of participation. This reiterated our wider University ethical framing. Yet, beyond institutional ethical frameworks, we saw a code of conduct as vital for creating a flexible and supportive space. Taking inspiration from the Museums Association’s guidance on safe, welcoming and inclusive spaces, we discussed with workshop participants appropriate use of materials and insights; maintaining privacy; and boundaries for participation. On the latter, we acknowledged that the day’s conversations could broach topics participants potentially might experience as difficult, sensitive or vulnerable. While making it clear we would not purposively raise topics we knew to be difficult, we also acknowledged the importance of being able to discuss the full spectrum of emotions experienced in museum work, if participants wished to discuss these. To this end, our code reminded people that they were under no obligation to take part in any conversations they were uncomfortable with and could step away – including to experience the beautiful UoS campus. Our goal, as the MA guidance puts it, was to ‘be mindful of how others might be feeling […] and respond appropriately’.
Making sure that individuals had agency not only over ‘when’ but also ‘how’ they would participate was a related element. One brief example was our decision to not set expectations that speakers would use slides, or supply a title or synopsis of their presentations. This decision aligned with our vision of inviting provocations based on peoples’ own experience, rather than asking for (more formal) ‘papers’ or ‘presentations’.
Finally, we paid attention to pacing the day. While unable given the fairly busy schedule to integrate radical rest, we had plenty of breaks and a dinner. Our concern with pacing implicitly underpinned communications prior to the event. We attempted to build genuine points of connection – through introductory conversations well before the day (when desired) and we remain in communication with participations, not least through the use of this website.
While participants seem to have experienced these elements positively, we also recognise that, as organisers, the planning and delivering of the event came with emotional labour. During our event planning we had many discussions about what might – in the overall scheme of things – seem like minor details to fixate on. But for us, these felt necessary to carefully consider trying to ‘get right’ for setting the workshop’s tone. Even seemingly practical matters can come with emotional load.
To give one example. We had a lot of discussion around our decision to not include speakers’ professional role and organisational affiliation in a pre-circulated schedule. Partly this was because we felt speaking about emotions held potential to cross several professional experiences (‘emotions are embedded in everything’ as one person put it on the day). Partly this was also because we did not want to constrain speakers to one positionality as this might risk introducing feelings of vulnerability or discomfort. However, we were also acutely aware that our decision to not share such biographical details could appear unconventional, especially compared to standard academic conference or seminar practice. Would speakers be offended if we did not include their professional title? Would attendees be confused or perhaps even dis-engaged if they did not know ‘who’ speakers were before the event? When pre-circulating the schedule to speakers we explained our decision:
‘You’ll see on the schedule that we haven’t included any institutional affiliations. We wanted to keep things deliberately open so that people don’t feel constrained by specific organisational affiliations or roles. For example, in your provocations you are welcome to draw on experiences across your career or focus on one role or research project (which may not be your current role or project). We would, however, like to be able to introduce you before you speak, and it would be great if you could tell us a little bit about yourself. Feel free to emphasise aspects of your career or experiences that are relevant to your provocation, as you see fit.’
While this is one small example of an organisational detail, there were many other points of consideration that required us to navigate an emotional load – our own feelings (above, of uncertainty and concern about making the ‘right’ decisions) but also what we anticipated might be felt by others.
Ultimately, the receptivity to the tone of the workshop indicates, on the whole, things worked well. Yet these responses – combined with our reflections – perhaps flag an emerging line of further questioning for us to explore. How can working norms, spaces, expertise, and even understandings of professionalism (we thank UoS PhD student, Alina Botezatu, for raising the latter in discussion with us) be more ‘full of care’? That is to say, embedded with an attentiveness to affect and emotionality, and in ways that align with the attainment of certain goals. As we have mused upon in this short blog, embedding care of our own and others emotion (or creating ‘safe spaces’ as it was put in participant feedback) was a central step in supporting our collective goal of being able to enter into meaningful, honest, and reflective discussions about emotions in museum work.
Jennie and Anna