The Power of Mentorship...a blog by Bethany Groff Dorau

I met Susan Edwards, retired executive director of this venerable museum, many years ago when I interviewed for a job with the Trustees of Reservations. I remember almost nothing about that interview except that Susan called me afterwards, not to offer me the job, but to tell me, gently and with great kindness, that I was not ready.

She was right, of course, and shortly after that interview, and having taken her advice, I returned to Historic New England where I remained for twenty more years. I keep that conversation in mind when I interview young, enthusiastic candidates for any position. Susan did not tell me to go get an unpaid internship or volunteer at four different organizations, hoping that someday I could get my foot in the door. She never assumed for a moment that I was working for pin money or spiritual sustenance alone.

For much of the past century, museums have treated the few at the top, the celebrity curators and directors, as professionals. These were often men, in a field that, throughout its history, has been overwhelmingly female.

Often, women were presumed to be supported by a spouse or family member, and it was also assumed that the work they did, including highly skilled research, was for fun, an appropriate pastime for (overwhelmingly white) women of a certain class.

We, as a field, owe these women a debt of gratitude, as many of the homes, objects, and archival sources we rely on today would have been lost without them, but their legacy also means that for decades, many museums assumed a level of privilege in their employees and paid (or didn’t) accordingly.

Many museum professionals from diverse economic backgrounds find it nearly impossible to remain in the field and earn a living wage.

Those of us who are not independently wealthy owe a different kind of gratitude to those women, like Susan, who understand that we cannot feed and clothe ourselves with the sheer joy of working in a museum. What Susan, and several other important women in my life, offered me, was mentorship. Whenever she could, she opened a door.

The Museum of Old Newbury, like most museums, dies without its volunteers, be they board members, archival assistants, gardeners, and everything in between. But museums also die without professional standards, ethics, and leadership. And, of course, they must be able to attract younger, more diverse people to the field.

We are learning the hard way that when the only opportunities to work in a museum are unpaid and overly structured, many young people are unable to see museum work as a viable career path.

If volunteer opportunities, the networking that often kickstarts a museum career, are only available in the daytime, during the week, or require large chunks of time, a working student or young professional will not be able to participate. I am very proud of the intern program at the MOON, almost as proud as I am of the interns themselves.

Because these summer positions ask for a commitment that would preclude a full-time job elsewhere, they are paid at close to a market rate. This is made possible through the Florence Evans Bushee Foundation, whose founder was devoted to education. Kudos to them for helping the Museum of Old Newbury open the door to museum work as wide as possible.

I have worked with numerous young families and students in my career to find ways to offer museum training and experience that is focused on their schedule and needs, not mine. I find them paid work as often as I can, or I find volunteer opportunities that work with their schedule. Even as I rely on the dedication and experience of my volunteers, those able to help without pay, there must be another way in, or we are doomed. And for those of you who believe that young people don’t care about history, I have a couple of (paid) interns for you to meet, and there are hundreds of thousands of young people who follow and contribute to history-focused social media pages, podcasts, even TikTok videos.

Back to Susan Edwards. There are a great many things that this community owes to her leadership and hard work. But my gratitude is personal as well as professional. You see, Susan and I are quite different people, as one look at my tattoos and piercings will tell you, but she saw nothing but passion and talent. When she could, she gave me the chance to shine, in my own weird way. I am shining in my own weird way from the hallowed halls of the Museum of Old Newbury in part because of her. She helped me see myself here.

So, let’s keep opening those doors for each other. If you know someone who is interested in museum work but does not know how to get started, send them my way. I will offer them any help I can. If you know a kid that is a budding historian, bring them to museums, and help them see themselves in this field. If you have the ability, help your local history museum endow an internship or staff position or cover expenses for an emerging professional to attend a conference. This work of memory, these stories and relics of the human experience, must be carried forward, or some crucial part of us is lost.