• 18May

    Jean Craighead George, a former member of NAI, has just passed away on May 15, 2012, at age 92. Ms. George is known by several generations of people for her wonderful books about children in nature. During graduate school I took several children’s literature courses and her books were featured in the young adult fiction course.

    Julie of the Wolves (1972) won the premier prize in young adult fiction, the Newberry Medal in 1973. It was also a finalist for the National Book Award. The story of Miyax, a 13-year-old Eskimo girl who escapes to the Alaskan wilderness to avoid an arranged marriage is powerful. She survives with the help of a wolf family and learns much about wilderness from them.

    My Side of the Mountain (1959) was a very successful novel made into a memorable film (1969). It features Sam, a young man, who escapes from New York City to live in the wilds of the Catskill Mountains. Both of the aforementioned books led to popular sequels. Her memorable characters and the amazing experiences she created for them will endure in American literature.

    Born into a family of naturalists and biologists in 1919, Ms. George knew well the subjects she wrote about. Her father was an entomologist for the U.S. Forest Service and her brothers, John and Frank, became well known for their research with grizzly bears. She earned a science degree from Pennsylvania State University. She also worked at one time as a journalist, but married an ornithologist. She spent her life happily surrounded in her home by domestic and wild animals as she wrote more than one hundred books and stories.

    Her sons, Craig and Luke, are scientists who study whales and birds respectively. Many others among her grandchildren and extended family also became naturalists and writers. Like the Aldo Leopold family, the George family has been very involved in the natural science community for almost a century.

    I was a fan the moment I finished Julie of the Wolves, and used to offer it and Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat as extra credit reading in undergraduate biology courses. Both had the power to get young people to think more deeply about the importance of preserving wilderness and wildlife.

    The powerful imagery of the book and compelling story were with me when I visited Alaska for the first time many years ago. Like lots of kids, great works of fiction have connected me to people and places and encouraged me to learn more. Her stories are among the best of their kind and timely to read at any age. When someone suggests they are for young adults, I can only say that I will appreciate these works throughout my life. They help keep all of us young and connected to the natural world.

    - Tim Merriman

  • 15May

    I have two favorite weeks of the year. Not Christmas, Spring Break or 4th of July. The weeks that make me happy are found one in the spring and one the second week of November.  I budget and I look forward and I haven’t missed either in a long, long time.  These are the weeks of NAI’s international Conference and the National Workshop, gatherings of interpreters to learn, to connect and to share.

    Having spent last week with almost 150 interpreters at the international conference in Hawaii, I am struck, once again, that when interpreters get together, magic happens. As I have written before, after such a gathering I feel   full of pride in the work of interpreters around the globe,  the role that interpretation plays in protecting our precious resources and full of love and friendship for my colleagues – old friends and new.

    Whether it is Kona Hawai’i or Hampton, Virginia; Panama City, Panama or St. Paul, Minnesota the tribe gathers from both big cities and small islands, from ancient cultures and landscaped valleys.  Some are brand new, just starting in this thing called interpretation, eager to learn from the more experienced of us and some share stories of the advances in the profession over the last 25 years and their role in them.  While I learn a great deal from every session, I must admit that, for me, the magic is in the individuals.  Strip away the power point, the agency and title, the citations, and what you have is an amazing group of passionate warriors for the earth and our heritage.

    These individuals, our members, YOU, are the heart of what we do at NAI. While immensely proud of our publications and programs we must never forget that we are a membership organization and perhaps the most important thing we do is facilitate the opportunities for our members to share with each other. That whatever our particular role in this business is – manager, planner, trainer, or front-line interpreter – it is together that we are unstoppable.

     

    Amy Lethbridge, NAI President

  • 11May

    Hula Kahiko from WikiMedia

    Last evening we held a luau (special feast) on the Hawaii Lawn of the Keauhou Sheraton Resort on Keauhou Bay on the Big Island of Hawaii for the International Conference. They served a wonderful meal that included the major foods at a more traditional luau dinner – poi (taro), poke (fish), lomi salmon,  and Kalua pig. By tradition the pig is cooked in an underground oven, an imu, and this was not prepared traditionally, but the food was quite good. Following the nice dinner we listened to beautiful songs by Ka Pa Hula Na Wai Iwi Ola Halau. They sang beautifully and played ukulele, bass fiddle, guitar and slack-key guitar. The combination with traditional Hawaiian songs is spell-binding and beautiful.

     

    Embera women dance as the men play flutes and drums in this village community along the Chagres River in Panama.

    Then Kumu Keala Ching went to the stage with his hálau (hula school) and shared the hula (dance), chants (oli) and songs (mele) of Polynesian origin in the Hula Kahiko tradition. He is a very well-respected teacher of cultural dances, songs and stories. Seven of his young girl students came to the stage carrying the long gourds used to make rhythms to accompany the graceful dance. Two of the young ladies in their early teens started with his halau at age two. Serious hula students are very committed to their muse. These young ladies were excellent in sharing their dance.

     

    We were enchanted by the grace and beauty of their performance of Hula Kahiko and then enjoyed seeing the more recent Hula Auana with dancing backed up by the band. The beautiful and unique sounds of slack-key guitar and amazing voices of native Hawaiians were enchanting. Near the end of the performance, Kumu Keala Ching stood up and danced the Hula Auana with his niece and then on a second song he danced alone. He is a big man who moves with a grace and dignity that speaks of the universal language of dance and movement.

     

    The evening took me back to other days and evenings of dance. The Embera women of villages along the Chagres River in Panama danced for us last year at this event, while the men and boys played drums and flutes. It was beautiful and colorful.

     

    Semai women in Malaysia shared their dance with us and invited us to join them in the celebration.

    While in a Semai village in Malaysia to make a video about ecotourism guiding, we were invited to watch the ladies of this Orang Asli community dance and then we were pulled up into the dance. I was guided to play the bamboo drums while others danced, likely a thoughtful choice on their part. I did better at that than I would have with the dance movements. The charm of this kind of experience is too challenging to express in mere words. Our bodies and minds respond to movement, song and story when blended and nothing we say quite describes the feeling.

     

    A decade ago we were in Wolong Valley in Szechuan, China, working on an interpretive plan with the Wolong Panda Reserve. One evening they invited us to a very nice goat roast on the large parking area. A fire in the middle became the center of a circle dance led by the women wearing beautiful silk dresses of Tibetan style. They also invited us to join the dance and the magic of participating took over to become a very special memory.

     

    Experiences that combine varied learning styles will build memories with many “handles.” We may think of the experience holistically but our brains store the event in different ways. These experiences with many “handles” become more deeply encoded and well-remembered.

     

    The rich sights, rhythms, textures, movement and feelings of dance in a unique culture are simply unforgettable. It was an evening with Hawaiian friends to be treasured. When they sang Aloha in English at the end, we all felt a part of the dance, the community and the spirit of Aloha. It was amazing.

     

    -Tim Merriman

     

     

  • 08May

    As you read this, more than 130 interpreters from around the globe are gathering in Kona, Hawai’i for the 7th Annual NAI International Conference.  Attendance at such an event presents me with opportunities to think about Place, to think about cultural and environmental histories and values. Most of us are aware that “Aloha” can be used both for greeting and farewell, but interestingly, Aloha is much, much more than that; in fact, “aloha spirit” is actually the law in Hawai’i.

    pictographs -messages from ancient hawai'i

    The Law of Aloha, Hawai’i Revised Statute 5-7.5, in part:

    “Aloha Spirit”. (a) “Aloha Spirit” is the coordination of mind and heart within each person…. Each person must think and emote good feelings to others. ..

    These are traits of character that express the charm, warmth and sincerity of Hawaii’s people. It was the working philosophy of native Hawaiians and was presented as a gift to the people of Hawaii… ”Aloha” means mutual regard and affection and extends warmth in caring with no obligation in return. “Aloha” is the essence of relationships in which each person is important to every other person for collective existence. ”Aloha” means to hear what is not said, to see what cannot be seen and to know the unknowable.”

    Gail Richards, director of the NAI Pacific Islands chapter, enlightened me on the concept of Aloha Spirit, pointing out that the practice of Aloha is a very real cultural value in the Islands – to revere all life, to live with natural sincerity, to practice gentleness, and to be of service to others is to live Aloha.

    It seems to me that Aloha Spirit is something we can and must embrace at NAI, nationally and internationally.  Our mission “to inspire leadership and excellence to advance heritage interpretation as a profession” is critically dependent on our collective wisdom, experience and effort.

    The goal of the international conference is “shared collective wisdom through professional development and by providing a sustainable network for professional associations and individuals involved in heritage interpretation around the globe.”  I have seen firsthand both the inherent value of shared learning and the importance of this developing and evolving network.

    The NAI international effort has found a great deal of Board support because excellence in interpretation is not dictated by boundaries and interpreters come in all nationalities.  In fact NAI has always had international members and currently has members from over 30 countries. However the board has also heard the questions and concerns that are generating a great deal of discussion among both the NAI membership.

    To that end, at the January Board of Director’s meeting, it was decided that in 2013 instead of hosting its own conference, NAI will instead co-sponsor the Interpret Europe conference in Sweden.  This will, in effect, give us a “year off” – a necessary reflective time to evaluate and assess our own efforts.

    At the same time, it will enable us to continue our support of the ongoing international efforts of our peers.  And as one of the oldest and largest national associations, there is no doubt in my mind that we both have experiences to share, and that we can benefit from the experience of others.  Through collaboration with other associations, we have a wonderful, if not critical, opportunity to contribute to the ongoing international conversation and, if we do so in the spirit of aloha, these efforts will be more effective, more meaningful and more inclusive.  Please do not hesitate to contact me  directly if you have thoughts you want to share on this issue, or post your comments below and we can get a discussion going here.  I can be reached at lethbridgeathome@aol.com

    Any of you who have been to an NAI workshop – be it regional, national or international, know how dynamic and inspiring  a group of an interpreters can be.  The collaboration, the networking, the problem solving and yes, the socializing, all bring us closer and make us stronger advocates for the preservation of the resources we interpret.  Next week I plan to share some stories of the conference participants and sessions so you can get a glimpse of what goes on this week.  Until then I look forward to hearing from you on your thoughts about NAI’s role in international interpretation.

    Aloha,

    Amy Lethbridge, NAI President

  • 04May

    Rosa holds a common boa, while John makes it clear he wants nothing to do with it.

    Mother’s Day is coming – May 13. I would like to jump in a time machine and go backwards 25 years to chat with my mother one more time. I need to tell her how much all of the thousands of hours of care she invested in me are valued. I am sure I said some nice things when she was living, but she passed away a little less than 25 years ago. I was immediately aware that I had more to say to her. I was aware that Mother’s Day would never be the same for me.

    We do an activity in the Certified Interpretive Trainers Course that includes a discussion about who interpreted nature and history back in the days of tribal life. Someone always says “parents,” mom and dad. Our parents attempt throughout our young lives to be filters, giving us what we need to survive and understand life. They try to shield us from bad experiences and harm, while enriching our childhood with good experiences and love.

    Rosa Carson Merriman, my mom, was good at it. I was the youngest of four. She taught me to touch type at age 10.  She had been a court reporter and knew the technology was changing and typing would be an enduring skill. A year or so later she taught me double entry bookkeeping and put me to work on her flower and gift shop books.  All of this would later serve me well in positions as a non-profit administrator.

    I wanted to be an aquatic biologist. She learned that a bucket of dirty water usually had a salamander, turtle or fish in it. I was encouraged to explore the local streams and ponds, ride my bike out into the country and spend time with friends exploring nature.

    I would watch her get up at 6 and fix breakfast, work in her business all day, come home and fix dinner and then work on bookkeeping for an hour or two. Then she read from 9 PM or so until 10 or 10:30. A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton Porter, an Indiana writer, was her favorite book and she read it many times. She grew up on a farm, attended a one-room school until high school and then drove a horse and buggy seven miles to town each day to attend high school. She graduated second highest in the county for her grade point average at age 16. Her parents sent both boys to college, and one did not wish to go. She could not be sent as a girl in the 1920s. It was just deemed unnecessary. She always regretted that and was clear that I should go as far as I wanted in college.

    As a farm girl she cared for livestock and adopted stray cats. My dad would later comment that any stray animal that wandered by our back door was in for a meal and full-blown adoption if interested. I occasionally met a hobo sitting on our back steps eating a sandwich and drinking iced tea. She fed any person and every animal that seemed hungry throughout her 79 years.

     

    Psychologists suggest we will behave like those who raised us unless we have very strong feelings contrary to one or more of their values. I had little to rebel against in growing up. Her beliefs were about kindness, caring, honesty and encouragement. Her Christian spirit shone through her every act. She cried as I went away to college, as mothers will, but I knew I could always come home and did with some frequency before getting married.

    Holidays are fun and remind us to pay attention to many of life’s big intangible ideas – religion, parents, sacrifice, memory, celebration, freedom and thanks. I have wonderful memories of my mother. If yours is nearby, I hope you have a chance to be with her on Mother’s Day. If you operate an interpretive program, I hope you think about the special things you might do on that day to honor these good women who gave us life and who interpret life for us. Happy Mother’s Day (in 9 days). For me it is not just a holiday, it is a reminder to remember every day who brought us here and helped us in so many different ways.

    - Tim Merriman

  • 01May

    Interpretation takes many forms. It is as varied and, by necessity, as unique as the people, places and events we are tasked to tell stories about. And although I rarely give public programs anymore, as an administrator and professor I continue to hone my interpretive skills through the presentations I do for funders and constituent groups, as well as in classrooms and special events.  A good presentation is a good presentation.  We know the elements: it must be purposeful, organized, enjoyable, thematic and relevant.  Honing these skills make us effective in everything we do.

    Which brings me to the reason that I spent last weekend in New York: one of the things I do “on the side” is to officiate weddings. It began with requests from friends and has somehow found traction.  Performing enough of them over time has led me to make the case that a wedding ceremony is the ultimate interpretive program. You have the expected tangibles of flowers, gowns and rings, coupled with the intangibles of commitment, promise and joy.  Love, family, ceremony—these are universals we find around the world, no matter the specific traditions of the participants.

    I was honored when asked by friend and NAI member Adrianne if I would officiate her marriage to Tracy. Theirs is a great story.

    Once upon a time there were two little girls. Both were tomboys and loved the out-of-doors. They grew up, graduated high school and went off to college. But soon they each, separately, decided that this wasn’t the right path for them. Both were called to serve others, a trait that remains a strong part of who they are today. Adrianne spent time working with kids, mostly with the Girl Scouts, and Tracy joined the Air Force and was stationed in Italy, serving a tour in Iraq before coming home. This is important because it is why they both ended up back at school at the same time, at Arkansas Tech University as Natural Resource majors. They sat next to each other in a landscape planning class devoted to Frederick Law Olmstead, Calvert Vaux and the design of Central Park, and as it happened were teamed up to do a class project together focusing on Bethesda Fountain. And, for Tracy and Adrianne, the rest was history.

    I asked some of Tracy’s and Adrianne’s families and friends to tell me about the two of them and what was most striking was how similar the responses were.  People wrote about how happy they are together.  How complimentary they are to each other, creating balance as a couple.  They wrote of the couple’s similar interests and passions and goals in life; how they both enjoy helping in the community and hope to make a difference in the lives of the people they work with and those they come in contact with in their everyday activities; they remarked on the humor and laughter; they noted the way they look at each other.  I asked everyone to imagine Tracy and Adrianne 50 years from now and they all mentioned them enjoying the out-of-doors, fighting for good in the world. Perhaps Tracy‘s sister Tina captured it best when she wrote, “In 50 years I see them sitting on their front porch in their rocking chairs looking out at the beauty of Arkansas and talking about all the wonderful things they did to help preserve its beauty.”

    Adrianne and Tracy were married in front of Bethesda Fountain, the stunning central feature of the lower level of Central Park’s Bethesda Terrace where the Angel of the Waters – in one hand, a lily, representing purity, the other hand reaching out to bless the waters below – brought them together in a not-so-distant landscape class. Surrounded by family and friends, and a whole lotta curious tourists, I got to pronounce them partners for life, receiving the biggest applause of my interpretive career.

    After the wedding a REAL interpretive program - Behind the Scenes of Central Park with a Docent from the Central Park Conservancy.

    Mazel tov to the happy couple – Amy Lethbridge, NAI President

  • 27Apr

    The proliferation of social media can make your head hurt if you think about it. How many of these can I really use and what do they really do? I was feeling saturated with use of Facebook, Twitter and Linkedin and then along came Pinterest.com. My first reaction was – I can’t participate in another one. Two months later it is my favorite.

     

    Wikimedia photo of Graflex camera

    Sharing photos has been a passion of mine since age 10. I had a 7th grade Social Studies teacher, Ms. Griffin, who also had a Master’s degree in Photography from University of California – Santa Barbara. Each year she would take three 7th graders under her wing and tutor us at 7 AM on photography. This was classical stuff. We had a Graflex 500 2.5X3.5 sheet film camera, a strobe light and an 8 pound battery for the strobe. We learned to run with the camera on a basketball floor or football field to shoot action photos, while also swapping double-sided sheet-film holders in and out of the back of the camera. It was fun. She also taught us darkroom skills, portrait photography and landscape photography. She was an amazing teacher and it launched most of us. We became the yearbook and school newspaper photographers in high school.

     

    I cannot say I became a great photographer. One of my colleagues won $500 in a Kodak contest and in those days that amount of money would buy a professional camera setup. He later went to work for Kodak and spent his career with them. I simply enjoyed using photography in my interpretive jobs and once in a very great while took a photo that would have made Ms. Griffin smile.

     

    Giant clam on the Great Barrier Reef shot with Pentax Optio camera.

    When Paul Caputo showed me Pinterest.com, I was resistant – for one minute, long enough to notice it was all about pinning photos to your Pinterest page. I had to ask Paul for help in getting started but was soon pinning away, hoping it would have a value in bringing others to websites where I write blog articles. I am quite hooked now and pin something almost every day.

     

    Mashable Social Media reports that Pinterest gets 1.36 million visits each day. More than half are mothers with children and 28% of them live on $100,000 annually or more. Two-thirds of those using Pinterest are women and one-third are men, about the same gender split that we have with NAI members. Since women are more the primary influence on children and what they do each day, this is a great way to introduce your site, programs, resources, experiences and opportunities to new audiences.

     

    You can set up individual Boards, like a bulletin board, with photos and captions on varied topics. I have more than 120 followers on the Great Interpretation board and on others that reflect various interests of mine. I posted a photo of a 4-foot wide giant clam on the Great Barrier Reef, and it was repinned 91 times in

    A Pinterest example posted from The Trailblazer Foundation website.

    three days and gathered 26 likes. I was amazed. Who knew a clam was that interesting?

     

    If using Pinterest, it is best to pin your photos from websites you wish to promote. Those who find your pins will see the site of origination at the bottom of the photo. Facebook photos cannot be used for some reason.

     

    At its worst Pinterest is another one of those many Internet distractions for our time and interests. At its best it may lead people to your messages about stewardship or your programs, webinars and services related to interpretation. Give it a look and see what you think. There is no way to know how long any of these sites will be popular. Someone is sitting at a computer right now inventing a site that will attract us away from the exciting bright lights of the currently popular social media. What is next?

     

    Tim Merriman

    NAI Executive Director

  • 24Apr

    When I asked on Facebook what it was I should see while in New York, I got a list of suggestions that would have taken several weeks to get through.  However,  a recommendation I did follow up on came from Scott Mair:   the Tenement Museum (www.tenementmuseum.org).  It was a powerful interpretive experience from start to finish.

    97 Orchard Street

    The Tenement Museum is located at 97 Orchard Street in New York’s Lower East Side and was, in fact, an actual tenement building (with a basement-level saloon) from the mid-1800s until it closed in 1935—when its landlords were unable to pay for the renovations necessary for it to meet new building codes. It was boarded up and sat empty for many years until finally opening as a museum showcasing the Lower East Side’s history and the diverse immigrant populations that lived there.  While most of the building is kept in its original state, several rooms have been “dressed” to reflect the lives of immigrant families at various time periods.

    Neighborhood street scene

    For example, tour features included “Sweat Shop Workers,” which focused on Jewish immigrants in the garment trade, and “Hard Times” which followed two families, a German-Jewish family and an a Italian Catholic one.  Additionally, although I wasn’t able to witness them, there are two living history presentations of some previous building residents, as well as a walking tour of the Lower East Side neighborhood (which, by the way, has been undergoing such rapid gentrification over the last seven years that the National Trust for Historic Preservation has put it on the list of America’s Most Endangered Places).

    What is really wonderful is that there is no guess work, no speculation. The staff uses concrete evidence like census data, court records, photos and other verifiable information to tell the stories of real families – an estimated 7,000 people from more than 20 nations – who resided in the building.

    Our guide, Emily, was engaging and passionate.  She knew her facts but, more importantly, has clearly grown to love the building and the families she interprets.  After telling us about the living conditions, the social issues of the day, and the trials and traumas of a specific family, she engaged her audience with provocative questions, allowing visitors to explore what they thought or how they might feel under similar circumstances.  I appreciated the fact that Emily, in her introduction, mentioned that the tour would cover many issues some might be consider controversial or difficult – immigration, poverty, financial ruin, sweatshops, etc.  She asked us to keep an open mind, to ask questions, to share our thoughts and, most of all, to put ourselves in the shoes of the people whose stories we were hearing. It worked. Visitors became an engaged part of the tour.

    I don’t know how the museum measures its objectives, but I do know that I: (1) bought a second ticket;  (2) will recommend the experience to everyone I know;  (3) will come back;  (4) spent a fortune in the gift shop; and (5) became a member.  As a manager I would have to say that the Museum, and Emily, hit it out of the park!

    Amy Lethbridge, NAI President

  • 20Apr

    Troutman rocking chair

    I just flew into Charlotte Airport in North Carolina for a training event and was reminded that their airport is distinctive. White rocking chairs are scattered around to provide a place to sit while waiting. I have had layovers here and found this a charming alternative to the steel and plastic cushions of most places. On one occasion I was astonished to find a very talented gospel-blues performer singing and playing at a baby grand piano. That made the wait much easier and it made me wonder what other interesting things happen in Charlotte.

    Airports are usually pretty similar and that makes sense. They have functional requirements that are probably most easily handled with standard equipment. But some cities go to a great deal of trouble to also tell their community or regional stories. Vancouver Airport has beautiful corridors of First Nations décor and artifacts. It helps create a real sense of place when you land, having flown from another nation.

    Denver International Airport (DIA) is our home airport and the distinctive tent roof by Fentress Bradburn Architects of the main terminal can be seen from miles away and looks somewhat like snowy peaks in the distance. They have added some excellent exhibits at the international arrival areas with photos and artifacts from the Native American tribes of the region. And sometimes they do things that just do not seem to work with our identity as a gateway to the Rockies. A 32-foot , 4.5 ton blue mustang near the south end of the airport by Luis Jiménez resulted in his death when the head of it fell on him during the creation process. It is unusual, and has been controversial as a sculptural icon since being installed in 2008.

    Wikimedia Photo

    In 2010 a 7-ton statue of Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead was erected south of the main terminal to advertise a King Tut exhibit in the city. Many travels said it “creeped them out” to have the god of the dead standing visibly at the end of the terminal in a place we all hope to pass through alive. I simply thought it stepped on our western U.S. identity. Our airport volunteers wear cowboy hats, greet guests as they emerge from the underground trains and help people find information and transportation. We seem to have a partial commitment to a strong “sense of place” identity. Some of our public art choices at DIA are odd at best.

    Las Vegas is one of those places noted for its casinos and identity as a fantasyland of disconnected buildings and images – an Eiffel Tower, a Venetian Canal and a pirate ship. But McCarran Airport commissioned a series of Desert Wildlife sculptures in 1992 and David Phelps landed the contract. His larger than life rattler, horned toad, desert tortoise, jack rabbit and scorpion seem carved from the cracked mud of a high plains alkali flat. They emerge from the Terminal D floor surrounding a large mosaic map, reminding you that you have landed  in the desert.

    David Phelps sculpture

    Most of us spend hours or days each year waiting in these travel terminals. I enjoy it more when the food reflects local flavor like the great BBQ in the Houston Airport. I love the beautiful desert landscaping of the Tucson Airport that greets you and invites you to visit the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Public art is interesting in airports but even more powerful when it shares regional stories and helps establish a sense of place. When the architecture, furniture, public art, food, exhibits and even music all work together, an airport becomes more than just another public facility doing a job. It becomes a public interpretive site that welcomes people to regional heritage, stories, cultures and landscapes. Few airports get it all right, but some are really making an effort. I like that.

    -Tim Merriman

  • 17Apr

     I have only been to the “Big Apple” once in my life. I was in high school and already in a state of excitement because New York was just a stop on my way to Spain as a foreign exchange student. My dear godmother, Mary Jane Tacchi, a librarian for the New York Public Library, took a week off of work so she could give me the VIP tour of her city. She was the coolest person I knew. It was she I wanted to be when I grew up: a strong single woman, living in the big city, travelling the world. And she worked with books! She was always at ease in huge crowds and to my young eyes seemed afraid of nothing.

    I was the proud recipient of souvenirs from her travels and they became my most treasured possessions. They weren’t the ubiquitous t-shirt or refrigerator magnet either. She would send me small, handcrafted items made from local materials, or something that represented a book that took place wherever she had journeyed. And the books! Without fail, on my birthday or a holiday, the perfect book would arrive at my door; it was as she could read my mind.

    Now to a 17-year-old, small-town girl, New York City was Wonderland. Everything about this city intrigued me. It was all about ‘firsts’: my first subway ride, my first cab, my first Broadway show. I saw a ballet, saw Pavarotti performing a free concert in Central Park, took a tour of the United Nations; I walked and walked and walked, each block a new neighborhood. I was scared yet eager for adventure, and Mary Jane, my guide and interpreter, fed that energy. She kept me safe, helped me see things I would have missed without her, and made sure to point out the small treasures of the big metropolis—new souvenirs of sight and smell, sound and taste. Incredible moments building on top of each other like the skyscrapers that hovered over our heads.

    Next weekend I have the opportunity to see New York again – the first time since my 1980 visit. I look forward to sightseeing, going where I didn’t go 32 years ago. This time, instead of the Twin Towers, I will visit the National September 11 Memorial at the World Trade Center site, paying my respects to the nearly 3,000 honored there. I will also walk the High Line, a public park built on an historic freight rail line elevated above the streets on Manhattan’s West Side: the City’s new symbol of adaptive reuse and the power of green. Unfortunately, The Statue of Liberty is closed for renovation, but I will go to Ellis Island and search the logs for records of my son’s great-grandparents.

    As interpreters we make places come alive and give them deeper meaning. When we do our job well, we become part of the visitor’s experience as we help facilitate connections they make, influencing their memories of our sites. Of course I already had a relationship with Mary Jane, but all of us also have a chance to make deep connections with visitors on our tours – even if they are just an hour long.

    Ellis Island

    Places mean different things to different people and we can’t always know what our visitor is bringing with them when they arrive. Will they be, like me, a teenager on the edge of adulthood, experiencing for the first time one of America’s most incredible cities – eyes wide and mouth agape? In fact, I hope that your visitors are … and that you, like my godmother, are able to lay the foundation for a lasting memory – one that fuels curiosity while perhaps planting a seed that will grow into a “I will definitely be coming back here again some day” statement.

    For me, New York City will always be, first and foremost, the home of Mary Jane, my godmother … my fairy godmother. And I will stop by the New York Public Library and I will lay a flower at the feet of those massive stone lions that guard its entrance. And I will remember.

    New York City LIbrary

     
    Amy Lethbridge, NAI President

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