The Typewriter Story (and Their Unexpected Fans)

Please enjoy the following transcript from a past episode of Exhibitsmith the Podcast. The Typewriter Story debuted on February 29, 2024. Find Exhibitsmith on your favorite podcast platform and at Podbean.

If you’re familiar with museum artifact collections, you may have heard that in many or most museums, a large percentage of the museum’s artifacts are not on display. In fact, depending on the institution, over 90% of a museum’s collection may be behind locked doors, hopefully not getting dusty, but often out of sight, resting quietly on a shelf. There are good reasons for this, and there are other reasons for this as well. I will be sure to discuss this in a future episode. But today, I want to tell you about something I experienced that changed my perspective on museum behind the scenes tours forever.

Hi, my name is Lindsey Smith with Exhibitsmith. I’m rethinking the way we save our stuff. I help people interpret, preserve, and better understand the objects that make up our world. If you have a lot of stuff, it might feel overwhelming. But believe it or not, I truly believe that artifact and heirloom preservation can be both easy and fun. In fact, I’ve developed a series of introductory-level workshops on this topic and others just to prove my point. Learn more about them at exhibitsmith.com.

Back to my career-changing story. I've shared this story many times over the years as an example of how we can rethink the worth of the artifacts or our precious personal belongings that may be deep in storage. And hopefully, this will inspire us to get some of those artifacts or heirlooms out of the closet and shared with new audiences. This experience was also a great reminder to me of why you should never default to using the phase, “Kids today, dot dot dot.” Or “Kids today don’t like this.” “Kids today don’t like that.” “Kids today only stare at screens, blah blah blah.” Kids are kids, period. It’s how we engage with them that has changed. Oh, and one more thing. I’m not exactly sure how old these tweens or teens were, but I am old now (or at least I feel old sometimes) so honestly, anyone high school age or younger is a kid in my book. So please excuse me for using a variety of words to describe them. And, I suppose they’re all well into adulthood now anyway.

Oof. Time flies when you’re having fun.

ANYWAY.

Twenty years ago, I was working at a large museum, a tourist destination that attracts visitors from all over the world. The building was – and is – full of amazing exhibits, artifacts, and experiences. No two workdays were ever the same, nor were any two museum visits. Things changed there all the time. Well back then, a friend of mine was working with a group of so-called “at risk teens” or maybe they were tweens? and I found out that they were headed to the museum on a field trip. I told my friend to let me know if they had any spare time at the end of their fun, busy, day because I could try to squeeze in a behind-the-scenes tour of the museum’s extensive collection of artifacts. If that would be something they might be interested in.

I assumed that these kids would be busy for hours. The museum is huge and there was so much to see. That’s why I was completely shocked when only about 30 minutes after they arrived, my friend called to tell me they were done. “Did you see this exhibit?” I asked. “And this one? And this one?” Yep. They’d seen it all and were apparently very unimpressed (the kids were unimpressed, not my friend. After all tweens/teens can have unpredictable expectations when it comes to whether or nothing things are “cool” or “fun.”)

I arranged to meet the group by the entrance to the collections department, which, like at many museums, was a pretty nondescript kind of entrance. After all, you don't want to advertise where all the artifacts are kept. And besides, if you’re lucky enough to get a behind the scenes look at things, a humble entrance – in my opinion – makes the whole experience more exciting.

And as soon as they walked into the first room of the collections department, there was a collective gasp. My friend looked surprised, but I was used to people reacting to it so I smiled to myself and moved along.

And I think this happened for two reasons. Let me take a couple steps back here. First of all, and perhaps most importantly, when I introduced myself, I made it very clear that this was a part of the museum that is off limits to almost everyone. Ooh, aah. I wanted them to know that they were having a very special experience. I also wanted to let them know that I was excited to show them around. No boring tour guide here! The second thing that drew them in was when I first opened the door to the department – not even to storage – and they saw a world that was completely different from the museum they had just been in. This world was filled with unique, old things of all sizes and shapes. In reality, we had entered a room used to house large objects like historic cars – which also packs a punch when you first see them, right? Old cars have that effect. They saw a much-used workspace, complete with the grime from car maintenance and giant wooden storage crates. They saw where the museum workers ate their lunch and did “normal” things. They saw an area that they honestly weren’t supposed to see.

And what’s more exciting than that!

I walked them back to the first official collections storage room, which, admittedly, was also the nicest. We stepped into a brightly lit, large, long room filled with compact, rolling shelving. Some artifacts were already in a display of sorts, resting on shelves behind plexiglass, because we led behind the scenes tours for members and various VIPs, often enough that it was worth it to keep some curated pieces readily available – and so we could easily share some staff favorites - without having to create too much additional work each time we had a tour, right? The rest of the room, though, was hidden behind rows and rows of compact shelving, only made accessible when a member of the collections department turned a giant crank and all the shelving rolled over to make a hidden aisle appear wherever they wanted. Cool stuff, right? Especially if you’re a kid on your first behind-the-scenes tour. The magic worked and these tweens were immediately sucked into the excitement of it all.

With each object I mentioned, the kids got more and more excited. They began asking question after question – I honestly couldn’t keep up! Then, one of the girls paused and said, “do you have those things that they used to use before computers?” and I looked at her and said, “do you mean typewriters?” Yeah. Okay. This was twenty years ago, sure, but even back then, typewriters had been out of fashion for their entire life. (I mean, today’s teens probably think of typewriters as ancient history. My kids would probably look at me like I was from caveman times. But honestly, they already do.)

I digress.

Anyhow, 20 years ago, typewriters were still an intriguing novelty, and perhaps coincidentally, the museum did happen to have a surprisingly comprehensive collection of early typewriters. Bam! So, that really worked out. But that collection wasn’t kept in the shiny behind the scenes tour room of storage, it was literally in the back of the back. I led them through the catacombs of storage (okay, so storage  wasn’t really that creepy or anything, but if you’re not familiar with the space, it does feel kind of like you’re going into the depths of somewhere) and I could tell that they were there for it. They quickly realized that this wasn’t even part of a normal behind-the-scenes tour.  

They were VIP VIPs. Awesome.

And then, there we were, standing in front a wall - the very back wall of one of the back storage rooms, where the shelving was old and the lights weren’t as bright. And in front of us, neatly resting on shelves stacked three or four tall, was the typewriter collection. I don’t remember, maybe 18 or 20 models, ranging from the earliest days of typewriters to the most recent (but still old school, even back then) word processors. Hey, if my former coworkers are listening to this, let me know how many typewriters the museum has – or, at least, had – in the collection back then. Thank you! <laugh>

Anyway, and there it was that all the kids, not just the girl who had posed the question, but all the kids got really excited.

They started absolutely inundating me with questions. And I’m not a typewriter expert! They were engaged, walking from machine to machine, looking at how the keys were arranged. Some of the typewriters were really old - pre QWERTY, even. You know, QWERTY, the standard keyboard layout of Q W E R T Y on the top row. These were from before that was even invented. The kids definitely noticed that and were excitedly comparing and contrasting all the models by size, shape, layout, you name it. They were just getting physically and audibly excited sharing the space with all of these old things.

All in a dark-ish, dusty-ish corner in the forgotten part of the museum. It couldn’t’ve been less glamorous.

But kids don’t need glamorous.

They just need to find something that’s new and exciting to them, that makes them think and, in this case, feel a little special.

At one point, my friend who was their chaperone, turned to me and said, that this was the first time she’d ever seen one particular girl smile. These were at-risk kids who had backstories that were probably not great. But in that moment, they were having a blast. A completely random, couldn’t have planned it if we tried, blast.

When the tour was over, I sent them on their way. I don't know if they then walked around the museum some more with a new outlook, I don't know how the rest of their day went. I don't know how the rest of their life played out.

But I know how that day affected me. That tour was one of the most transformative moments in my museum career, and I love sharing it.

I hope this motivates you to think of ways to share the objects in your life with those who you many not assume would be interested, whether you’re working with a museum collection, or your prized possessions and heirlooms at home. Don’t assume that someone won’t be interested in something that’s important to you simply because they’re not interested in X, Y, or Z, or that they’re of the wrong generation or background. It’s all how you set the scene and tell the tale.

I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s episode. I invite you to subscribe to my podcast and once again, you can see everything Exhibitsmith is up to Exhibitsmith.com, including grabbing yourself some free, downloadable resources. Thanks for listening - I’m already looking forward to the next episode.

The Tent (and the Power of Authenticity)

Please enjoy the following transcript from a past episode of Exhibitsmith the Podcast. The Tent debuted on April 1, 2024. Find Exhibitsmith on your favorite podcast platform and at Podbean.

Let’s talk about the power of authenticity. Authenticity is real. True. And when it comes to objects, it might just be what turns something ordinary into something extraordinary. On today’s episode, I’ll be sharing a very creative example of how one museum decided to interpret one of their most special artifacts, to great success.

Hi, my name is Lindsey Smith with Exhibitsmith. I’m rethinking the way we save our stuff. I help people interpret, preserve, and better understand the objects that make up our world. If you have a lot of stuff, it might feel overwhelming. But believe it or not, I truly believe that artifact and heirloom preservation can be both easy and fun. In fact, I’ve developed a series of introductory-level workshops on this topic and others just to prove my point. Learn more about them at exhibitsmith.com.

Okay, back to the conversation of authenticity and using that to leverage the importance of an object. Let’s think on this a little, especially regarding the museum world. Why do people usually visit history museums? History museums can vary greatly, but they usually have one thing in common. Whether it’s a state museum or a local history museum. A museum that focuses on a particular subject, like a military museum, or a fashion museum, or even a museum that’s housed in an historic structure, such as a one room schoolhouse or a residence. These very different types of institutions all do one very united thing. They interpret the past. And the vast majority of these museums use authentic artifacts to tell their story.  

Exhibit developers have the power (ooh power) to pick and choose which artifacts from their collection will tell the story that they’re after. They will carefully choose not only an object, but by putting an artifact in the spotlight, they’re carefully curating the entire exhibit experience. They are the ones who will determine the story that they think is most important for the exhibition, and we trust them to do so with accuracy and integrity. There are many different ways we can look at a single artifact – I focus on that in my workshops, and will be discussing that here on a future episode, too.

But until that episode drops, I want you to understand that with the right thinking and interpretation, even the most ordinary-looking artifact or item can truly come alive in the eyes of museum guests. And today, I want to tell you a story of just that.

But before I begin, here’s a little information about this artifact. If you saw it folded up on a table, you would probably just walk right on by thinking it was something that needed to be tossed or donated, or just gotten rid of. Properly mounted and interpreted, however, the item’s true worth is revealed.

This museum, however, went an extra step. They went above and beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Using the authentic artifact, it’s extraordinary story, and a little bit of theater magic, they created an awe-inspiring, educational spectacle.

On to today’s story:

I'd like to tell you a story about a tent, a special tent, George Washington's tent. In fact, it's on display at the Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia. Last spring, I had the opportunity to chaperone my son's fourth grade field trip to the museum. To say the kids were excited to go on a field trip is an understatement. I think my ears were ringing for weeks after those bus rides. Anyhow, when we got to the museum, the first thing we did was see their multimedia production of General George Washington's tent before the lights dimmed.

In the theater, a museum educator explained the artifacts importance and that it was old, authentic, and should not be photographed. The room full of loud bouncy fourth graders started asking a myriad questions. Where did you get it? Can I touch it? What would happen if I touched it?

Is it real? There were also some high school students in the crowd. I really wanted to jump up and started explaining things, but as a parent chaperone, I just sat and smiled. The rambunctious kids were really getting into it. During the wonderful introductory film, most of the kids were able to stay quiet, but it is fourth grade, so there was a constant bit of background chatter, which kept the energy up in the room. And then at long last, the screen rose and the crowd started going wild.

The tent, the tent, but there was another screen behind it, and the movie continued. This was a brilliant move. The crowd reacted in anticipation grew. The high schoolers behind us were just as engaged as the fourth graders. Then at long last, the second screen gave way, and there it was Washington's tent, beautifully lit and safe behind glass, a screen along the back wall, projected sky and trees as they changed through the seasons and the lighting made the tent seem magical, and the crowd went absolutely wild.

The 10 year olds and high schoolers were going nuts for George Washington's tent, like I'm talking Beatles on Ed Sullivan Nuts like the tent. It's the tent. It was too loud to even hear the movie narration anymore. It was just complete screaming chaos. And personally, my material culture heart exploded. I was both laughing and getting teary-eyed from their reaction, and I'm so glad I was there to experience it. But then, but then stage right, was that a, was that a lantern moving around inside the tent and it looked like someone was walking around in there?

Was it? Was it George Washington? Oh my gosh. The kids started shrieking again at the top of their lungs. Thanks to this very clever and apparently extremely effective use of lighting.

Oh my goodness, what an experience. I, I could tell you so much more about how wonderful the field trip today was. But that moment is what will stick in my head, in my heart for years to come. It was amazing. If you're in Philadelphia, go see the tent and definitely take any 10 year olds you have along for the ride.

I am very curious to learn about the moments that you have had in your life where you encountered an object and then learned the story behind it and were just completely blown away, or it really made you think of the item or its context in a completely new way. Perhaps you were just floored that you were kind of standing in front of this real piece of history and it was just all of a sudden too much to grasp.

These are the moments that keep me doing this. This is the reason why I focus so much of my time on helping people preserve and interpret their stuff. You don’t need to own a national treasure to discover and curate extraordinary unique stories that really shine and connect with people. Sometimes it just takes asking the right questions and taking good notes, such as interviewing a family member about a prized posession.

So even if you're not a museum person, especially if you're not a museum person, I invite you to think about the items that are in your life, perhaps by walking around your house, looking at each room and thinking, what is the important item or items that I have on display here? And am I just taking them for granted as they get covered in dust? Is there a way I can highlight them? Are they getting lost in the shuffle, i.e. do I literally have to move piles of papers and stuff out of the way to even see and appreciate them?

And then, ask yourself how can I create these moments in my own home, in my own life with the things that are important to me - fully understanding that you're not going to have something like Washington's tent or a Gutenberg Bible, or the Hope Diamond, right? But that doesn't matter. You don't need those national, international treasures. What's important to you are the items that bring you those feelings, and I'm very curious to learn what items you have and how you are cherishing them, displaying them, storing them, and keeping those stories alive.

I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s episode. I invite you to subscribe to my podcast and once again, you can see everything Exhibitsmith is up to Exhibitsmith.com, including grabbing yourself some free, downloadable resources. Thanks for listening - I’m already looking forward to the next episode.

Keeping Spring Cleaning Stress Free (You Have Permission to Get Rid of Stuff!)

Please enjoy the following transcript from a past episode of Exhibitsmith the Podcast. Keeping Spring Cleaning Stress Free debuted on February 29, 2024. Find Exhibitsmith on your favorite podcast platform and at Podbean.

You have permission to get rid of things the easy way. If you need a sign from the universe to do it, here it is. Hi, it's me, holding a sign. I recently had trouble clearing out my garage. My somewhat - simple goal to purge some old things that were taking up space proved to be harder than I had anticipated. So, I wanted to take some time today to share my story with the hope that it might help you too.

Hi, my name is Lindsey Smith with Exhibitsmith. I’m rethinking the way we save our stuff. I help people interpret, preserve, and better understand the objects that make up our world. If you have a lot of stuff, it might feel overwhelming. But believe it or not, I truly believe that artifact and heirloom preservation can be both easy and fun. In fact, I’ve developed a series of introductory-level workshops on this topic and others just to prove my point. Learn more about them at exhibitsmith.com.

A few weeks ago, I did a little early spring cleaning. I rummaged through the bins in the basement and in our closets, and I managed to fill six garbage bags full of old clothes, old shoes, and other household items. Some of these were easy things to say goodbye to. Some things are just easy to pass along. After all, we have kids and they outgrow clothes left and right. But I also made some deep personal cuts to some stuff I’ve had for a long time. I’ve moved a lot over the years and after a while, I just started asking, why am I really holding on to it all? So, I decided to finally donate a couple bridesmaid's dresses – dresses from my 20s that I always wanted to wear again. Famous last words, right?

Now for some reason, I feel the need to tell you that these dresses weren't technically bridesmaid's dresses. They were simply lovely formal dresses that I happened to wear while being a bridesmaid so I could have worn them again IF they fit. BUT it's been almost 20 years since I wore them, AND they haven't fit in a long time.

I think one of the reasons why I really wanted to keep the dresses was just in case I did ever fit in them again, they could be like a little a trophy to myself, but that's usually not a great reason to keep something. And to keep something for decades. (And besides, I have my wedding dress if I wanted to play that game. And, I’ll have you know, I can still fit into the same earrings I wore in high school. So there. OMG.) So, after many years and many moves across three states, I finally put those gowns into the donation bags alongside everything else, tied the bags shut, and set them aside.

It was then, however, when things got complicated, or rather they threatened to get complicated. I came across an ad for a local charity that solicits donations of formal wear for high schoolers to go into prom. At first, I thought this would be perfect. I can downsize my collection and help someone find a lovely dress. It's a win-win, right? I stepped into our garage where the garbage bags were piled up alongside some other items we needed to toss, and that's when my mindset changed.

The garbage bags were all sealed and ready to go. All I needed to do was put them in the trunk and drive away. But now, I needed to go through the bags, find all the formal attire, re-bag everything, et cetera, et cetera. I looked at the ad for the charity - the donation deadline was approaching. There were specific donation hours, and I had to go to a location that was unfamiliar to me.

It was at that point when I started to feel just a little overwhelmed, not good. So I took a step back to reevaluate the situation. I have a lot of stuff to donate. I could do that right now, or I could take a few extra steps to make sure that my donations go to an organization that specializes in what I have to offer. I'm creating more work for myself in this scenario, but it'll be worth it, right? I decided to set the donation bags aside until I had time to quote deal with it. And that's why the bags sat there for two extra weeks, taunting me, reminding me that I now had more work to do before all the stuff could leave my house.

These extra steps were not something I needed in my life at that time in order to reach my cleaning goals. I just needed all of the stuff to be gone in the past.

I've definitely donated to specialized organizations in the past, most notably, an organization that provides business attire for individuals seeking employment and for many years, I donated used books to a local book sale. These are wonderful organizations, and if their needs fit within your abilities, I highly recommend seeking them out. But THIS time around for ME, I didn't have the mental bandwidth to deal with anything other than cleaning house. And that's why I finally gave myself permission to ignore the formal wear charity solicitation. I ended up dropping everything off at one of those big old local donation repositories that will take all kinds of things.

I crossed the extra tasks off my to-do list, and I moved on to my next project. I felt a little guilty, but I also feel good because I'd made that decision. If you have items that you need to get out of the house and your end goal is just to donate them, don't create more work for yourself if it starts to stress you out or complicate things.

I had gotten caught up with making things more complicated, even though my end goal hadn't changed much. I'm sure we could all have a very rousing conversation on what really happens to clothing after it's donated and the issues with fast fashion and all of that. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, I recommend Googling it but be warned, it’ll probably bum you out.) But sometimes you don't need to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. If you need to get rid of something, do it in a way that makes the most sense to your time, resources, and even sometimes your mental health. Right? And while I'd love for my clothing to be worn and loved by its next owner, perhaps even more than it was by me, there's no way I can control that.

Whether I pass hand-me-downs to a loved one or a specialized charity, or just throw it in a bin at a donation center, I can never guarantee that the perfect owner for that item will or will not come along.

My professional interests focus on helping people understand why they collect and keep the stuff in their lives. And when this example popped into my life, I knew it was an experience that I wanted to share with you. If you have things that are ready to go, but they're hanging around because getting rid of them somehow means more work or more stress, I implore you to take a step back, reevaluate your ultimate goals, and get the stuff out the door. Don't build walls and barriers simply because you're trying to be a better person. Sometimes it's okay to just get rid of stuff. I have a lot going on right now as I'm sure you do as well, so right now, I will NOT be separating my old jewelry for one organization or children's clothing for another. I also have a bunch of books to donate, (including some books that people might actually want, like kids books) but they've been in my garage for a long time. And what I've decided to finally do, is just walk them over to a neighbor's little free library that they have in their front yard, instead of driving them across town to a book drive I recently heard about. The book drive is for a good cause, but again, there are rules and parameters and timeframes and right now, I don’t have it in me to jump through any hoops. Cleaning out the house is enough hoops.

Because sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, and sometimes that means getting rid of stuff the easy way.

What are your thoughts on this? Should I have persevered? Have you had a similar experience? I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s episode. I invite you to subscribe to my podcast and once again, you can see everything Exhibitsmith is up to Exhibitsmith.com, including grabbing yourself some free, downloadable resources. Thanks for listening - I’m already looking forward to the next episode.

Grandma's Flowers: Simple Objects Can Feel Extraordinary

Please enjoy the following transcript from a past episode of Exhibitsmith the Podcast. Grandma’s Flowers debuted on February 29, 2024. Find Exhibitsmith on your favorite podcast platform and at Podbean.

Today I’m digging deep into my personal memories to share a story about how an otherwise ordinary object became surprisingly important to me at a very young age. I’m curious whether you’ll be able to relate. I hope you enjoy today’s episode and I invite you to share your stories, too.

Hi, my name is Lindsey Smith with Exhibitsmith. I’m rethinking the way we save our stuff. I help people interpret, preserve, and better understand the objects that make up our world. If you have a lot of stuff, it might feel overwhelming. But believe it or not, I truly believe that artifact and heirloom preservation can be both easy and fun. In fact, I’ve developed a series of introductory-level workshops on this topic and others just to prove my point. Learn more about them at exhibitsmith.com.

Okay, back to today’s topic. I’d like to talk a little more about downsizing, especially the thought process around who in your life might most appreciate your stuff. And not just all your stuff, but particular objects that hold special meaning.

When looking to downsize – and potentially give some of your possessions away to friends and family – I encourage you to be proactive in asking what items they might be interested in. This can help with planning and organization and all of that, but you might be surprised to learn how your “stuff” has – or has not – affected those around you. Think of when you were a kid, visiting an older family member’s house. You might not have noticed the formal portrait above the fireplace or the fancy crystal vase. Maybe you couldn’t care less about the things that were the most important to them (actually I’m going to save that discussion for a different episode, because that’s a whole subject on its own.) But perhaps there was something a little less obvious that you were always excited to see: maybe a favorite pillow to curl up with (my maternal grandmother had some amazing, velvety-plush animal print throw pillows in her amazingly decorated mid-60s home – I thought they were the absolute coolest), or maybe a figurine that sat on a shelf – perhaps it was the closest thing to a toy in the whole house so that’s where little-you gravitated, or a quirky cut glass candy dish that was always filled with peppermints. Okay, who am I kidding. The dish was filled with butterscotch or those candies with the wrappers that looked like strawberries – or maybe the little round ones that were supposed to look like raspberries. Do you know what I’m talking about? Anyway, do you understand where I’m going with this? The things that might be most important to your loved ones, the objects that make them feel most connected to you and your experiences together, may not even be on your radar. Here’s another example. If you’ve been staying in someone’s guest room for years, you’ll probably be more connected to the items in that space, right? than to whatever they keep on their dresser or in their desk drawer. Things like that.

So here’s an example that’s very personal to me. I mentioned it very briefly on social media a while back but otherwise I don’t know if anyone at all knows about this. It’s just locked away in my head. And yet, it remains very important to me. My paternal grandmother died when I was eight. She lived far away, so we didn’t get to see each other often, maybe a couple times a year, and I’m very sad to admit that I honestly don’t have many memories of her. But I remember their little house: it was a small, cozy, one story home in a retirement community in central Florida, surrounded by palm trees. I remember their front room, I remember the basket of grapefruit hanging in the kitchen more than I remember the kitchen itself – and I remember I was too young to go in the hot tub in the community center’s pool house (ha!) – and for some reason I remember their bedroom, perhaps because my grandma was sick for a long time before she passed, or perhaps for some other – happier - reason that I no longer remember. This was decades before smartphones, and I don’t think I have a single photo that shows the inside of their house. But I do have a few of these very distinct snapshots seared in my mind. If only I could bring those images back to life, or pull them from my mind’s eye and put them on canvas.

When my grandma passed away, she left me her upright piano – something she always had in her home but had never learned to play. According to my dad, playing the piano was always very important to her and it’s a bit of a mystery why she never took lessons, even in her retirement. So while I always knew that her piano was a prized possession, and that I was very fortunate to receive it, I didn’t quite understand what the big deal was. Now, that piano turned out to be very instrumental (ha! Sorry about the pun?) in my musical development (let’s just say that I’ve had a lot of music in my life – and it started shortly after her passing - and I’m sure I’ll get to all my music stuff at some point, stay tuned I suppose) but I never really felt a personal connection to that piano. Side note - that piano still lives at my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it moved across the country to be with me. One of these days.

So I was – and continue to be – very appreciative of her gift, but my feelings toward it were more transactional. I mean, again: she never played it (because she never learned.) I don’t think I ever even heard anyone play it. But I do remember where it was in their home so I suppose that’s something to cherish.

Now, concerning my grandfather. He was fortunate to live a long life after she passed away, so her death didn’t result in some sort of mass exodus of stuff. There was no estate sale or divvying things up amongst the family. But if I had been involved in that sort of process (and again, I would’ve still just been an eight year old,) I would have only asked for one thing. One item that was important to me and my relationship with her. On humble object that could help me keep her memory alive.

My grandmother kept a bowl in her dining room filled with yellow plastic flowers. Looking back, I think they were meant to be yellow begonias. I distinctly remember the two of us looking at them, checking on them, perhaps pretending they were real? together. Or maybe we would just dust them. All I know is that we were doing something grandma/grandkid-ish together and it was really sweet. And I admit my memories are hazy. I think they were in a brown glass bowl but I’m not even sure of that. It might have been a metal bowl. All I’m sure of was that they were plastic yellow flowers with a rubbery texture. I remember thinking of them after she passed because they were one of the few tangible memories I had with her, having spent our lives a thousand miles apart.

Here’s the thing: no one knew the flowers were special to me. My grandmother might not have even realized their true intrinsic worth. I remember visiting my grandfather after a while and the flowers were gone. I only thought to ask about them many years too late. I mean, there was no one to blame here. They were cheap, plastic flowers that were probably collecting dust and taking up space, so I assume, you know, they were unceremoniously tossed out on a random, sunny Florida afternoon. But I continued to think about them as I grew, still picturing them on the table in their little dining room, as if they were still there - long after my grandfather had remarried, long after he moved out of state, and long after he passed away. In my mind’s eye, they’re still there.

It’s been 36 years and I’m still thinking about them. When I think of her, I think of those flowers. And I also realize that those little plastic flowers were probably old when I first encountered them, and they’d probably be a pretty sad sight today. Rubbery plastic flowers don’t last forever. That’s also a topic for another episode. But that’s not the point.

Oh how I wish I had those little plastic flowers to hold on to so we could grow old together.

The point to all of this is, when you’re thinking about what items to pass along to family and friends, don’t assume that you know what’s best. They might have memories that are stronger, more personal, and more random than you could have ever dreamed. Now it might take a while to get people to really think about what is important to them – so if they shrug you off at first with an, “I don’t know” or a “nothing,” give them time, ask questions in a different way or using different words, and quietly observe how they navigate your space and use your things. It takes time for people to identify and understand their memories, especially if they’re happening in real time. It might take days, or months, or subsequent visits. But once they start to consciously think of that things are important to them – whether you’re looking to give them away or not - what a wonderful conversation it will be.

I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s story and thoughts about stuff. I invite you to subscribe to my podcast and once again, you can see everything Exhibitsmith is up to Exhibitsmith.com, including grabbing some free, downloadable resources. Thanks for listening - I’m already looking forward to the next episode.

Exploring the Idea of Treasures with Kids

Last (school) year my daughter brought home a Scholastic magazine from school, as she did from time to time. They’d read the articles in class and then she’d bring it home when they were done.

This article made me smile, as it talks about “stuff.” In fact, it asks the question “Toys or Treasures?” which reminds me of what we often think about: “is this item ordinary, or extraordinary?”

This article, from “The Treasure Issue”, is for lower elementary-aged kids. It spends a lot of time talking about how some toys from the 70s and 80s are now worth thousands of dollars.

But they also dedicated a page to sharing three kids’ stories: Pepper and her stuffed frog, Myles and his shark tooth, and Arturo and his handmade creations. Cool! These kids get it – it’s not always about the money, sometimes it’s about how something makes you feel.

Do you have items from your childhood that are particularly close to your heart? I still have a lot from my childhood. I probably have too much, and I should start asking myself some tough downsizing questions one of these days.

Speaking of downsizing questions, have you downloaded our new free resource yet? Grab your copy of “Downsizing? 3 Questions to Ask” free download on our resources tab.

Issue: Scholastic Storyworks 2 December 2023/January 2024