Recently an older friend of mine complained on Facebook about her bad experience at the British Museum. The staff on the information desk had not known what she was asking for, she said, and sent her to the wrong gallery (especially difficult for her as she is disabled and the extra walking increased the pain she was in). ‘This is the BM for heavens’ sake,’ she wrote. ‘There must be unemployed history and archaeology graduates who would not sneer at a job on an info desk here’.
Of course my hackles went right up. Still, eight months after leaving the British Museum, the suggestion that the staff are incompetent makes me shake with rage. But I stopped and had a think about it, and came to the conclusion that she is probably right. Some of the staff are incompetent. They are not necessarily stupid or lazy or even ignorant, but they are certainly unable to deliver what visitors expect of a world-class museum, and this is not even slightly surprising, given the current system. I’m writing about the BM because I know it best, but the problems in its Visitor Operations department are surely present in other big museums and galleries, because they are a symptom of a far larger problem. I am not writing this piece out of spite or anger – I feel neither – but because I still love this country’s wealth of museums, I still admire the British Museum, and I want it to thrive.
When I applied for my job in Visitor Ops, there were seven vacancies and seven hundred applicants. It was August 2010, a bad time to work in museums: the coalition government hadn’t been in long, but significant spending cuts were already being made. Many of my university cohort had struggled to find any employment at all, so I was delighted to have paid museum work of any kind. It wasn’t my dream job, but I believed that if I worked hard this could be a stepping-stone to better things. The managers who interviewed me gave the impression that they were looking for people with ambition, who wanted to spend their career in museums, and all seven new employees fitted that profile. We were educated, interested and interesting. We were there because we desperately wanted to be, and I’ve never forgotten the exhilaration and pride I felt as we walked into the Great Court on our first day.
Lots of great people worked in Visitor Ops back then. Some saw it as a way into museums; others used it to support themselves while they made art of one kind or another, or studied for MAs or PhDs. Most of them had discovered – as I soon did – that it was pretty hard to get out of Visitor Ops. A rolling rota meant our days off always changed, so it was hard to commit to voluntary opportunities. Then there was the fact that we were not credited with any particular value or intelligence. Partly, I think, this was to do with the museum’s huge international status: if we took the initiative to do something outside of our remit, and it went wrong, the legal repercussions might be huge. ‘Not my job’ was a phrase thrown about quite a lot, with varying levels of irony. There was no group identity, no sense of belonging to something bigger: people from other departments – the proper museum workers – seemed to think we were the most ghastly sort of bottom-feeders, and I was verbally abused on several occasions. Can you imagine wanting to volunteer with somebody who’d called you a ‘fucking moron’ to your face? Mind you, they were probably just as insecure as we were: if I were to be charitable, I’d say they crapped on the people beneath them because they were absolutely terrified.
I’d come from a front-of-house museum job where we were encouraged to be independent, put forward for voluntary projects, and reminded over and over that the museum could not open without us. I arrived bursting with confidence, but the same attitude was not taken at the British Museum: with little managerial support, most people coped with the incessant rudeness from visitors, the overwhelming crowds, the lack of autonomy, by simply switching off. It’s not a job that gives you a great sense of value, and a lot of people found it better for their mental health to just stop caring. The treatment of long-term agency temps was a source of great resentment. Every now and then, when their contracts came up for renewal, there would be a period of excruciating tension as they waited to know whether they were going to keep their jobs. They were encouraged to apply for permanent positions but rarely got them; they were passed over in favour of new blood (like me) and yet retained via the agency, as if they were good enough to work at the BM but not good enough to be given any security. They were justifiably stressed, humiliated, and angry.
In 2012, the museum received a 15% cut to its grant-in-aid budget. The Paul Hamlyn Library closed, there were lots of redundancies, and I suppose all the departments had to prove that they were squeezing every penny: I know that from this point Visitor Ops became increasingly dependent on agency temps. This coincided with a change in the law that meant that if their contract ran for over three months these temps would be entitled to sick pay, living wages, and other exciting perks. Expensive! The solution? Get new temps every three months.
The job isn’t rocket science, but it’s also not something you can pick up in an afternoon. It takes months to develop a current and full knowledge of upwards of 90 galleries, changing exhibitions, the museum’s 250-year history, where all the toilets are, why this angry Italian can’t find the Nike of Samothrace, and what he might like to look at instead. Is it any wonder that these temps do their jobs badly? They haven’t been hand-picked for their interest in museum work, or because of their desire to act as ambassadors for the BM. They’ve just been sent by the agency. Their ignorance is further compounded by the fact that gallery assistant and information desk support are now completely separate roles. Info desk staff have only an academic knowledge of the galleries; warders don’t know much about events, membership and bookings. The two teams have little understanding of one another’s jobs, rarely interact, and therefore communicate poorly. This inability to work together makes for disappointed visitors, and as a result the staff feel ashamed and lose confidence. They’re new, so they haven’t bonded with their team; they’ll be gone soon, so there’s no point in trying. They work long hours on minimum wage, and they are regularly reminded that they can be fired with no notice. Why continue to strive in a situation like this?
Using short-term temps looks like a cheap solution to a problem that is out of the museum’s hands, but – as I hope you’ve gathered by now – to my mind it’s the most destructive kind of false economy. A generation of young graduates were once upon a time so struck by the wonderful museums they were taken to as kids that they thought, ‘this is what I want to do with my life!’ – and the British Museum is not nurturing them. Instead they are cultivating a workforce whose knowledge is sketchy, who are tired and demoralised, who do not take pride in their work or the museum they represent. How can they, when the museum takes no pride in them?
Pretty much the only way to get a career in museums nowadays is to work for free – for months or even years – and actually even those fortunate enough to have this choice don’t necessarily want to take it. Even if you have parents who live in London and who will put you up rent-free for as long as it takes, living at home when you don’t want to feels like arrested development. It takes away a bit of your autonomy, your pride in yourself. But if you try to get a job – an actual paid job – in front-of-house, because that’s what’s available, you will be treated as if you have a brain the size of a pea. Goodbye autonomy. Goodbye pride.
If the only young people able to work in museums are those for whom earning a wage is not of pressing importance, what does this mean for the future? Museums strive to be accessible to everybody, and yet their direction is decided by individuals from a privileged and narrow strata of society. I’ve no problem with wealthy upper-class people specifically, I’m sure they are very intelligent and have excellent ideas, but it is very, very wrong that a resource that is designated as belonging to the nation can be run by so few.
I am not suggesting for a moment that the British Museum starts creating new jobs, only that it makes better use of its existing staff. The jobs exist! This is what riles me! Hundreds of people are employed by the Visitor Operations department, and they are vital to the museum’s survival. The department has already been cut right back to the bone: the ‘golden age’ of two warders to a gallery and a break in the afternoon is long gone, and now galleries stay closed for days or months or years for lack of staff. It seems bizarre, this compartmentalisation: however much the museum seems to want to be discrete from them, these front-of-house agency workers are the first and often only point of human contact for visitors. In the eyes of the casual public, they are the museum. The visitor experience is already compromised on a practical level: why not alleviate this by at least making sure the remaining staff are happy, knowledgeable, and proud of their job? This world-class museum should be a welcoming, stimulating and impressive place to visit: in times of terrible cuts, when so much is lost, its remaining workforce is its greatest resource. It breaks my heart to see this go unrecognised.
For myself? I was immobilised for a long time. I’d ‘followed the signs into the paper bag’, as an ex-colleague of mine described it in her beautifully accurate blog post, Teach Us to Sit Still, and I simply couldn’t go any further. I stopped applying for other jobs – couldn’t believe they would want me – and eventually threw myself back into writing because I did not know what would happen if I couldn’t find something about myself to take pride in. It seems very sad that I and many talented others were creative in defiance of our workplace rather than in partnership with it: this energy of ours, when we could sustain it, went away from the museum when it could have gone back into it.
All I propose is that the big museums in this country cease to see their their front-of-house staff as expendable automata. They are an asset. Hire young people for their enthusiasm and knowledge – they are not too proud to do this job, believe me – and cultivate them rather than alienate them, make them feel that they are part of their museum’s community rather than trapped in a departmental bubble. Help them forge connections with back-of-house departments so they can demonstrate the fact that they are not morons. Make it easier for them to volunteer and they will volunteer, they have paid tens of thousands for their education and they are desperate to learn and to help. My generation accepts working for free as a fact of life, but there’s little motivation to do this when our sense of self-worth is systematically ground down every day. The future of the British Museum depends on a dedicated, confident workforce who truly believe in its aims and who want to help make it even better – and yet every day that very workforce becomes more and more disenfranchised. I simply don’t believe that this is the way forward. We deserve better and we can do better.
former temp said:
This is spot.on. Spoken as a former BM temp, and someone now working in a front of house position at another London gallery, this is true for many British arts institutions. I do think it’s also worth noting another gigantic problem with the current job market; some members of staff have been there too long but stick around despite hating their jobs, and they drag everyone down with them. There needs to be a way to have a massive overhaul of staff; out with the old curmudgeons and in with a new way of thinking. How can management not see that there are hundreds of enthusiastic and knowledgeable people that would do just about anything to have the jobs that those undesirable members of staff hate?! It’s usually these kinds of staff that become complacent, unhelpful, and downright rude. They tarnish the reputation of the museum/gallery and they kill any hope or job satisfaction for the rest of the team. I’m not saying that all members of front of house staff that have held their positions for a long period of time are like that, but there is a shockingly high percentage of them and it enrages me to my very core. And it’s not just the BM. 😦
imogenhermes said:
yes yes yes, this is so true. Those jobs we could have taken in the past are being held onto now, and everybody is frustrated and bored and stagnating. There’s also the greater pressure nowadays that museums, galleries etc are run like businesses – ie, they need to turn profit, financially earn keep etc. I’ve had VS managers who worked on cruise ships, shoe shops, the police force. The goal, often, is to making institutions a viable part of the leisure industry, rather than an intellectual and historical resource. I don’t know what you do about that, really, when there is so little money. But – like lots of the things that are facing cutbacks, not least the NHS – it feels that a lot of what is being lost can’t easily be got back.
leonroy said:
My wife used to work at the BM and this reflects her sentiments. I fear the museum sector is not unique in disenfranchising its workers. The problem appears to be reflected in education, healthcare and other public services as our councils and governments hollow out the public sector with their budget cuts.
The pendulum will swing back to a more favourable outlook for the arts and posts like this will definitely help ensuring that happens faster. Thanks for writing.
imogenhermes said:
absolutely – the cuts to the NHS, and to so many other much-needed public resources, infuriate and terrify me. I do feel a bit first-world-problems complaining that I cannot find fluffy museum work to match my degree-level education – but it’s important, surely. It’s not only the loss or compromise of important services that upsets me, although that’s bad: it’s the loss of a way of thinking. I want to live in a society that believes, at its core, that everybody deserves access to free and good education, healthcare, and heritage/learning opportunities like museums. When these services are cut, the mindset goes too. Fast, I think. Privatisation scares the hell out of me. It’s just ‘not my job’, but bigger.
I remember your wife. She was a really great supervisor – respectful and enabling, I thought. An achievement in that environment.
stuart westerby said:
A brilliant article,so spot on,I agree with every word.its the best thing I’ve reas about the BM for years,and an absolutly terrifying photograph,er not your’s imogen,the hanging puppet.thank you,its a great piece.
imogenhermes said:
Gosh, Stuart, you see very sinister things! It’s a still from the 1929 Hitchcock film ‘Blackmail’. Although the man does die a bit later…
Robin said:
Reblogged this on Robin Croucher and commented:
Sometimes someone can express your own thoughts better than yourself #Art #Museums #London
Robin said:
Thank you for expressing that which so many of us working in Museums and Gallery’s feel. As a NG employee I have experienced many of these same issues personally …. I can only hope that someone will listen.
imogenhermes said:
Thank you so much for reblogging this. I’m delighted that so many people recognise it as a true representation of how things are. I do hope somebody takes notice, even if not the BM.
Robin said:
No problem at all! I only wish I were able to word my thoughts as well as this. A colleague of mine brought it to my attention and myself and others have all remarked on the accuracy of your observations and feelings. I believe a copy has found it’s way onto our staff notice board for the GA’s to read too 😉
imogenhermes said:
Oh excellent! That makes me v proud!
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NMS VSA said:
You could very easily replace the words British Museum with National Museum of Scotland and the article would still make a lot of sense.
As many have already said, this is a problem right across the museum and galleries sector and beyond.
Visitor Service Assistant, National Museum of Scotland.
imogenhermes said:
thanks so much. I’m consistently delighted at the range of people and institutions this piece is reaching. Keep passing it on!
cmjalford said:
I agree with some of the points raised here, as I worked at the British Museum. But I think you work in museums because you love them, and you shouldn’t forget that, and that is better to try not to get bogged down in politics, I met some truly amazing creative, talented people at the British Museum who inspired me in my future career.
I had a really positive experience working as a VSA at the Science Museum as I was lucky to join a Museum Studies reading group, which was an opportunity to debate on an equal level with curators and staff from across departments. It inspired me to go on and do an MA in Museum Studies. It is impossible to find work in museums, but I do think that having a passion and an enthusiasm for your subject really is the way forward.
imogenhermes said:
I’m glad you’ve taken the time to reply to this – I would like all sides of this debate represented, and I think that you are right that there exists in the museum service a lot of cynicism and in-house politics, which it’s often not necessary or useful to get involved in. But I don’t believe that ignoring it will make it go away: I also totally disagree that a love of museums is all you need, or that failure to succeed is due to not loving museums *enough*.
I love museums. I wanted to work in them since I was a child, and I volunteered in them from the age of sixteen. My degree was geared towards that career path. That was the direction I *always* wanted to go in. But love is absolutely not enough in this situation: I stuck it out for ages but by the end I was tired, undervalued, disillusioned – I couldn’t go on. I love museums but by the end I did not want to work in them any more, and that’s a problem.
What you’re essentially suggesting that we should all put up and shut up. I don’t see why. Some of the cynicism and politics is pretty nutty, but a lot of it exists for a reason. Enough people have agreed with this post for me to believe that I am not nuts, that there really is a problem in the system, which we could work together to improve.
PS – it’s great that you were able to take part in a reading group. That’s fantastic, and the sort of thing there should be more of. I do find that often VSAs are excluded from that sort of activity – at least I was, eg I’d have loved to get involved in the choir – because our changing shifts mean we aren’t always on site, or available, to join in regular meetings. But I do think anything that brings different departments together socially and intellectually is a great step in the right direction.
angelikakonko said:
Many thanks for this! It’s very true in many aspects at my workplace too (NMS). I really hope this will be noticed!I’ve worked in V/O dep.for nearly 3 years and for nearly 3 years I’ve wondered- how come, being the crucial link between the public and our collections, nobody from above has made sure my knowledge is up to scratch, so I can deliver an excellent service! No introductions to galleries, no background information, nothing that really could add to my experience.Instead they’ve focused on the soft skills – so that I smile to visitors. And sure, that’s important too, but I thought that’s the basic criteria to even be considered for the job! Without a proper knowledge we can smile but only of embarrassment.. And yet we cope somehow, we learn from each other, we use our own initiative and enthusiasm to learn about what we are not thought… but it would be so much easier and this could be such an amazing job if what you said here was addressed! Don’t keep us in the departmental bubble!
angelikakonko said:
Many thanks for this! It’s very true in many aspects at my workplace too (NMS). I really hope this will be noticed!I’ve worked in V/O dep.for nearly 3 years and for nearly 3 years I’ve wondered- how come, being the crucial link between the public and our collections, nobody from above has made sure my knowledge is up to scratch, so I can deliver an excellent service! No introductions to galleries, no background information, nothing that really could add to my experience.Instead they’ve focused on the soft skills – so that I smile to the visitors. And sure, that’s important too, but I thought that’s the basic criteria to even be considered for the job! Without a proper knowledge we can smile but only of embarrassment.. And yet we cope somehow, we learn from each other, we use our own initiative and enthusiasm to learn about what we are not thought… but it would be so much easier and this could be such an amazing job if what you said here was addressed! Don’t keep us in the departmental bubble!
imogenhermes said:
YES! you have summed this up so well. ‘the soft skills’. Thank you. I agree that it HAS to take more than being able to smile. And yes, how often VS teams support and learn from one another rather than from higher up. I think that point shows how vital it is to promote team identity and wellbeing.
Visitor services and happy! said:
It would be good to balance this view. Several issues that come through this blog seem to have been glossed over. The first, and most important, point is that there are a large number of professionals who see Visitor Operations as a job in its own right. I have spent the last 20 years working the long hours and rolling rosters to become a Visitor Operations specialist.
“The managers who interviewed me gave the impression that they were looking for people with ambition, who wanted to spend their career in museums, and all seven new employees fitted that profile. We were educated, interested and interesting.”
You are right, they were. They wanted people to fill the ranks and progress into Visitor Management and be the next in the line of hugely dedicated managers who love their visitors and the institutions that they proudly manage, seven days a week.
It would be safe to say that Visitor Operations departments have let down their staff – but not in the ways that have been highlighted. For example, a good recruitment process should weed out those who feel that Visitor Operations is the “stepping stone” into any other role in a Gallery or Museum. They are likely to be disappointed and, once disaffected that they haven’t gained promotion into another department, are unlikely to be the smiling, helpful, engaging member of staff that our visitors expect to meet as they enter the building. While no one asks their education and learning teams to take on a PhD student who really wanted to be a building engineer, visitor operations (and often also retail) can be misjudged by colleagues, let alone outsiders, as suitable employment for budding curators. Candidates should come to the department knowing that is a profession in its own right.
The museum and gallery visitor is no longer the isolated reverent viewer, more and more they demand a more connected experience, which involves staff speaking to and engaging with them. Therefore, it makes utter sense that the leaders of these teams are “people, people”. Managing the perceptions of both the team and the wider organisation is difficult, which is why you will find that most Visitor Operations specialists are highly skilled people managers. However occasionally they do have to remind themselves that the museum could not open without them and that they really are valued!
There are some points that I do agree with, one being the creation of jobs and positions for young people. They are the future, but we have to accept that they come with GCSEs not PhD’s . We should be encouraging them to excel in working with our visitors. As a mentor, I have first hand experience of these young people being shunned and isolated because they haven’t put in many years of education, and yet they have empathy, people skills and an eagerness to work with the visitor. Without our visitors, of whom a great number just want to “see the famous stuff” and have a cup of tea, none of us would be employed.
A lot has been made about leisure verses historical and intellectual, in many blogs and reports over many years. I would ask two questions;
1. Why would you not want your teams and venues seen as bastions of customer / visitor service?
2. For those who have worked in the Visitor Services field, just what percentage of your visitors where in the Gallery for an intellectual experience beyond, “that’s pretty”, “that was the thing on the TV” or best of all “I can’t believe it is that old, it must be a replica”?
These types of visitors now form the majority of visitors in large institutions and they are far more critical of the total experience. Which, like it or not includes the staff standing on the door saying “Hello”. So they should be highly motivated to do just that, not harbour negative thoughts because the have yet again not been shortlisted for a junior curator / archivist / educator. Try this interesting activity; ask 15 Visitor Facing staff what their main training need is, how many will say “More Customer Service Training” and how many will say “Time in the archive, stores, education teams”
So how about, for once, in the many numerous blogs, that instead of telling everyone how bad it all is, let us embrace the Visitor Service specialists who see this as their calling and something they are very passionate about, within the museum and gallery sector. We are not a stepping-stone to anywhere, we are talented, enthusiastic and motivated in providing our visitors with an amazing day out, even if it means just pointing out where the loo is!
angelikakonko said:
1. Do you really believe management want the v/s staff to progress into their positions?Nowadays it’s more of – make them leave sooner than later so they don’t receive pay progression and extra holidays…
2. I don’t know a single vsa who would take pride in saying’ hello’ and showing where the toilets are.This IS a part of our job (like filling spread sheets in many other jobs)and we are not ashamed of it but it’s not what makes us proud!
3. Do you really see the general public to be as stupid as you presented it here? Sure, people come to the museums for entertainment but it’s our role to make it meaningful, teach them something, inspire them! That is the job of a VSA in it’s own right(not ONLY to smile and show where the toilets are)!!!Is this not what the museums are for? From your vision it looks like the museums are just another sort of an amusement park rather than a place of learning about the world!And that is the main problem- people on managerial level who think like you!
4. What makes me proud of my job is that the person who I’ve just spoken to leaves the place knowing ‘that bit’ more about the surrounding world. That a crocodile is not an alligator. Museums are there for an intellectual experience – want it or not!
5.And yes I am (or rather was) very passionate about my job, like many of my colleagues! Just take into account that to fulfill the role of the link between the public and the world under the roof ( FYI the collections) we need to know something about it! That is our job – not to show where the toilets are!
gp said:
Reblogged this on Museum Network Warwickshire and commented:
Nurture your Front of House ..People greeting people make or break a visit. Do you take as much care as you could?
imogenhermes said:
Thanks so much for sharing.
gp said:
🙂
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