To the young mind, every thing is individual, stands by itself. By and by, it finds how to join two things, and see in them one nature; then three, then three thousand; and so, tyrannized over by its own unifying instinct, it goes on tying things together, diminishing anomalies, discovering roots running under ground, whereby contrary and remote things cohere, and flower out from one stem. -Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The American Scholar”
This quote from a speech written and delivered in 1837 inspired Freeman Tilden to pull an excerpt to begin his chapter “For the Younger Mind” in Interpreting Our Heritage. Freeman was concerned with age appropriate delivery as well as content and encouraged interpreters to approach programs for children and adults in completely different manners. I often wonder what he would think of the growing pockets of interpretive environments that seem to have abandoned dedicated adult programming altogether.
What message does it send to staff when an institution chips away at adult programming and funnels the resources into children’s programming? What values are signaled to the community when programs are only offered during business hours on weekdays? Does neglecting our adult audiences hinder our ability to recruit volunteers?
This podcast episode allowed me to explore an aspect of interpretation that I’m very passionate about. In the past two years that I have been working on Left Hand Guide, I have come across many interpreters that feel the same way I do. I also come across adults outside the field who are curious and interested in learning but far too restless for a lecture.
Adults are also interested in taboo subjects. This explains the popularity of content creators such as Dr. Esme James who have tapped into the titilating questions modern audiences have about how our ancestors got it on. Is there a respectable way to explore hidden history with mature audiences at our heritage sites?
Sometimes we’re filled with morbid curiosity. One time I was visiting a zoo, and an educator was outside the giraffe enclosure, taking questions from the audience. While I watched the graceful, massive animals graze their treetops, a bitter query formed in my ever logistical mind. I waited patiently until most of the children were distracted by Dippin’ Dots to whisper my question: What happens to the big animals like giraffes, elephants, and rhinos when they die? And I savored the hushed answer, glad that I found an opportunity to ask another adult about death in the lull between groups of children.
Historic sites and museums could do better about providing opportunities for adults to be curious without worrying about negatively influencing children. Much subject matter is gatekept in modern society, using childhood innocence as an excuse to keep everyone uninformed forever. Maybe the answer is to offer events with specific age requirements to create an environment where adults can explore their interests.
At the very least, different marketing approaches or scheduling could send a signal that child-free adults are actually welcome at these events. Children may enjoy museums and heritage sites, but they lack the agency to return to them on their own. However, if an adult enjoys one of these sites, they may return multiple times. They will tell and bring their friends. They have the agency to change your site’s traffic, funding, and reputation. They are the ones with voting power. Remind them that history matters.
The office of the scholar is to cheer, to raise, and to guide men by showing them facts amidst appearances. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The American Scholar”
