The Share Fair Archive

The Importance of Being Earnest

Remodeling, by Dakota Russell

Strange Sighting at Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park, by Tiffani Addington

Jefferson City News-Tribune Article about the 2002 AMI Workshop

The Pods, by Janet Price

Lewis and Clark: Survivors, Making it Fun for the Interpreter, by Kathy Thiele

Building Bridges, by Grady Manus

Well, well - look who's come back… I haven't seen you in years! I thought you'd forgotten about me!

You don't remember me, do you? I'm Earnest. Remember? I'm the one thing you just couldn't live without a few years ago. Just had to have me. Saved your money and everything.

I remember those early days. We were inseparable! And then, one day, you put me here on this shelf, and never came back. Oh, how I've longed for your touch, to see your smile, to smell your breath (even on those bad days…).

I hear you every day, moving around in the next room. But do you come to see me? No. Do you ever even think of me? No. I'm sitting here on this shelf, forgotten. You don't love me anymore.

I hate to say it, but it's time for me to go. I know there's someone out there who would love to have me, someone who would even pay money for me, used goods as I am. If only they could find me…

Wait - there's a light. It's you! Have you come for me? I see you putting all the others in a box. You say you're taking them to AMI, to an auction? You say they'll find new homes there? Oh, joy! Take me! Take me! Earnest wants a new home, too! I just know someone out there will love me!

I have to go to the auction! I'm Earnest, after all! It's important that I be there! How will those students ever pay for school without help? They need me!

Oh, no! The box is almost full, and I still sit here on this shelf, alone. You've forgotten me again. I'll spend the rest of my life in this dark closet, instead of in a loving home.

Wait a minute - What's that popping sound? It looks like… could it be… It is! Bubble wrap! You do love me! I can feel your hands pick me up, place the bubble wrap around me, and gently lay me in the box. Oh, boy! I'm going to the auction! I'm going to the auction!

I thought you were going to forget Earnest, but you didn't. I heard you tell the others we'd all find new homes, and raise money for scholarships at the same time. What a deal! How important is that?!?

The AMI scholarship auction - I'll be there, doing my part. Will you?

by Dakota Russell

Part of living in the Ozarks is getting used to all the festivals. Every town hosts at least one civic celebration each year. The interpretive sites follow suit, often uniting with the town or hosting an event of their own. Last September, I counted eighty-seven festivals in southwest Missouri alone.

At my workplace, Nathan Boone Homestead State Historic Site, these festivals are cause for worry. A young, unknown historic site like us can easily get lost in the flood. So in 2004, we began remodeling our own festivals. We aimed to create something different, a new twist on the traditional Ozark festival. We also wanted events that reflected our themes, and encouraged our audience to explore them further.

Our first challenge came in May, with our Spring Frolic festival. We had established the Frolic a year before with a twist built in. It was a festival about festivals, focusing on leisure in early Missouri. We had a nice concept, but the execution still lacked something. We offered venues for audience participation, but no one bit. Our pitch had not been enticing or aggressive enough.

To punch things up in 2004, we turned to bribery. We distributed a currency of sorts, our Frolic Tokens. Visitors earned these tokens by winning contests and helping with interpretive programs. They could then use their tokens to buy the services of a portrait artist or fortuneteller. They could also test their luck at the gambling tables. At the end of the day, visitors turned in their remaining tokens at the bank. We awarded small prizes and bragging rights to the top earners.

Homestead Days, our festival in the fall, made the Frolic look easy. Homestead Days, basically a biographical event, centered around the life of Nathan Boone. We needed to tell a linear story in the open-ended format of a festival. We also felt, after Spring Frolic, that we needed to take a more aggressive interpretive approach.

We split Homestead Days into five "chapters." Each chapter represented a time, place, and event from Boone's life. The audience visited these chapters, assumed the role of Boone, and played a game that interpreted his experience. After completing each game, visitors received a stamp in the "passport" we had given them. Those that finished all the chapters could compete for small prizes in a final round. This round helped to review the story and emphasize the festival's themes.

The remodeling changed the way we looked at our festivals. Now, we concentrate on our themes more in the planning stages. This makes some of the decisions we face easier. We enter the festival with a final product in mind, not just a desperate hope for surviving the weekend. We have also learned to ask what the audience's role will be in each activity. We try to find ways to get them involved, and to make sure they're having an experience that's both enjoyable and interpretive. The site may not become an overnight sensation because of these festivals, but at least we'll know we're doing all we can.

by Tiffani Addington

No, it was not a pod,
But it was equally odd.
It began with a roach,
Who had an interesting approach.

She spoke of insects here and there,
Of fashion sense and flair,
Of history and mystery,
Of body segments numbering three.

Respect for such useful creatures
With very remarkable features
Was foremost on her minds
As she remembered the tie that binds.

For her kind, survival is the key,
And it was her goal to make the humans see.
But she was not just the roach with the most;
She was a fashion show host!

Yes, fashion was the subject that eve,
And what a tale of splendor the roach did weave.
As she called them in one by one,
And they scurried up the aisle in fun.

The mosquito hunting for blood,
The fly and her little spud,
The honeybee from far away,
The luna moth who unfolded her wings that day.

The dung beetle with her ball of poo,
The ant lion who danced for food,
The milkweed bug with his warning to "STOP,"
And the walking stick who always comes out on top.

All in all they were a hit,
Except for the spider who bugged them a bit.
The humans clapped and cheered,
And insects they no longer fear.

For now they do not consider insects their rival,
Instead, they understand that for them, it's all about survival.

by Michelle Reagan
News Tribune

from the Jefferson City News-Tribune, August 28, 2002

Drifting past the willow trees and watching the ducks flying overhead along the Missouri River, historic and natural interpreters from museums and nature centers across the state reflected on the sights and sounds of the Lewis and Clark expedition.

The Association of Missouri Interpreters met in Jefferson City Tuesday for its annual meeting, emphasizing "The Big Muddy ... Crossing the Currents of Time."

Many of the approximately 70 historians and naturalists have increased awareness and programming related to the Lewis and Clark expedition bicentennial in 2004.

"The Missouri (River) is different from the Ozark streams we're used to," said Donna Legg, naturalist at the Springfield Conservation Nature Center, Springfield.

"This is where it all happened," added April Dozier, interpretive program supervisor at the Springfield center.

"How much better to experience history, to be at the place where it occurred."

But as the 20 canoes left the Noren Boat Access Ramp, reminders of modern day passed by the water trekkers in the form of airplanes, road traffic and trains.

When Lewis and Clark traveled through this region, life depended on the river. Today, many people consider the river ugly or a nuisance, said Jeff Cockerham, regional outreach and education supervisor the conservation department.

Conservation department employees especially hope the upcoming bicentennial will draw new light to the entertainment and environmental benefits the Missouri River has to offer.

"We hope it helps people develop a renewed appreciation of nature and history and the cultural tie between the two," said George Kastler, chief park naturalist for the natural resources department.

A more shallow, wider Missouri River held the dugout canoes and keel boats of the Lewis and Clark expedition, Cockerham said. Ponca State Park in Nebraska has the only remaining unchannelized section of the river, he said.

But the river is always changing, Cockerham said. That's one of the intriguing aspects of exploring the Missouri River.

Legg and Dozier will take their Missouri River experience back to Springfield to share with children and tour groups at their center.

And local Lewis and Clark re-enactors, Tom Ronk and Lee West, who participated in a 13-man 1800s campsite recreation Tuesday for the interpreters, will use the historical event to stimulate public curiousity about the Missouri River.

Ronk and West will provide their re-enactments, including authentic 300-pound, half-scale dugout canoes, through the conservation department.

The re-enactors will take part in the Lewis and Clark Trading Days Sept. 28 at Riverside Park.

by Janet Price

It was the summer of 2001 when the pods first appeared. There were three of them: Two were black as coal. The third was strangely clear.

What were these odd structures? They seemed to almost "hover" there, just at the surface, seemingly ready to float away at any moment.

At first, we were afraid. We thought to run, but we didn't. Instead, we stared in amazement, fascinated by these rippling pods. The soft hum of a motor seemed to hold us mesmerized.

Imagine our surprise when beings emerged from these strange pods! They appeared to be people, just like us … well, sort-of like us. And when they invited us in, we went - apprehensively, but we went. What we found is recorded here.

In the smaller black pod, we found a pioneer sod house, much too small for all of us to fit in comfortably. How could early settlers live in such a small space, and get by with so little? Cyndi Evans (as this particular being was called) explained to us the challenges homesteaders faced on the prairie, and how they did so much with so little.

We moved on to a completely different environment in the clear pod - a stream, it seems. Fish floated above our heads. Crawdads crawled across our feet. This being, Tiffani Addington, showed us some of the lifeforms that might be found in a stream, and taught us of their ways.

The last pod took us underground. The being Janet Price informed us that all lifeforms here had been decimated by a pesticide spill. (Seems this spill occurred after an earthquake, caused when someone "throwed down a b'ar".) Our mission, she said, was to repopulate the soil ecosystem. And we did.
The pod beings shared their information with us. Then, as quickly as they had come, the pods disappeared. They almost seemed to deflate, sinking down into nothingness.

The pods were gone… or were they? There have been several reports of sightings through-out Missouri over the past year. One sighting even occurred as far away as Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It appears that new pods have been springing up across the land, taking on new forms, such as a beaver lodge, and a lead mine. Who knows where the next pod may appear? Who knows what form it will take? Who knows?

Editor's Note: Please report all pod sightings to the park naturalist at Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park. Include information as to when and where pod was sighted, and what form it took. Information will become part of the master record on the "Pod Pad", and will be used to track pod activity.

UPDATE: The Pod Pad is now online! We here at mointerp.net have volunteered to further science (and prevent possible colonization) by printing The Pod Pad right here. Send your updates to webmaster@mointerp.net.

The Pod Pad

* On June 1, a large black pod appeared at Beaumont Reservation near St. Louis, where it consumed over 300 tiger cubs! EEEEKKKKK! Luckily the tiger cubs made it out before the pod deflated (it takes quite some time for this one to do so...I think it may be the mother of all pods!). Reported by Tiffani Addington 8/6/02.

* This same pod appeared at the St. Louis Science Center. A politically correct pod, it consumed a highly diverse population of 728 people over the course of two days. The occasion was the premier of the Imax film "Journey into Amazing Caves." Featured in the air supported Exploradome, we had a pod within a pod. Reported by Eugene Vale 8/7/02.

* Another sodding pod at Arrow Rock? Kindergarten through 2nd grade students loved Arrow Rock's sod house in a pod. Based on this sighting, some experts have speculated that the pods may be evolving. This one had a skeleton of PVC pipe in case of power failure. I doubt Darwin saw that one coming! Reported by Mary Stith 6/4/03.

Lewis and Clark: Survivors

Making it Fun for the Interpreter

by Kathy Thiele

At the 2001 AMI workshop Shanna Raeker and I presented our program "Lewis and Clark: Survivors". We received the best presentation award for it and received numerous compliments from participants and so the question arises, "How'd we come up with this program?"

About 2 years ago we were told that we had to do programs on Lewis and Clark. We are naturalists, not historical interpreters, so blending history and natural history was a real challenge. First person interpretation sounded like a lot of fun but after much thought it didn't appear to be very workable and would require so much research that it would be easier to become a brain surgeon. How could we take kids back in time so they could understand all the hardships Lewis and Clark survived and the skills they needed to make their journey?

I wanted something that required little talking on our part and a lot of doing on the kid's part, something fun, something outdoors, and something they wouldn't be likely to do back at school. The TV show, "Survivors" was really appealing to youth at the time so I decided to divide school groups into 3 teams and present them with questions and "challenges" as they do on the TV series. Coming up with the skills they needed was easy. Coming up with how to do hunting, fishing, etc., within a 2 hour time period was a lot tougher. This is where brainstorming and bouncing ideas off co-workers came in. After that it was just a matter of making the props.

The numbers of requests from teachers for this program has been disappointing. Hopefully, as we get closer to the bicentennial of the journey it will be more popular. As a whole though, teachers are pleased with the program and kids always have fun and learn at the same time. Making props was very time consuming and having to drag out all those props every time we do a program is a definite draw back but well worth it, I think.

We, the interpretive staff at Busch, find it's fun for us too and we continue to make improvements and changes that will keep it that way. Much thanks to Shanna Raeker for talking me into doing the AMI workshop presentation with her. I'd never have had the guts to present it myself!

Lewis and Clark: Survivors Lesson Plan (Microsoft Word file)

by Grady Manus

Interpreters build bridges. This is what we do. As we observe the world around us we cannot help but see that there are gaps between cultures, races and generations. Gaps exist between ourselves and our environment. This separation and isolation of individuals has widened since the 1930's. It is an undeniable fact that urbanization and industrialization have created a chasm between individuals and society, and their natural and cultural heritage. There has been much debate and speculation concerning the long-term societal effects that the Internet is going to have. Most sociologists fear that the resulting isolation from sitting at computers rather than talking to each other may cause even further erosion and deterioration of our cultural and social identity.

We have all observed the reactions of our visitors to the foreign and unfamiliar worlds of our cultural, historic and natural features and resources that we interpret. I have a friend who saw deer late one evening while walking from a park to her car. She reacted as if whitetail deer are aggressive carnivores that were ready to pounce upon her and devour her flesh. Many of us who have worked around livestock programs have encountered a visitor pointing at a sheep and asking, "What kind of dog is that?" At Fort Bridger, a visitor was adamant about the lack of accuracy in the program … "That wagon can't be right (1880 - 90 freight wagon), where did they get the wheels? Wheels hadn't been invented yet." Another visitor had the same reaction to an 1855 reconstructed farm community … "They didn't have paint in the 1850's."

Our initial response to these types of encounters can range from total disbelief, to irrepressible laughter, to anger. How can people be so stupid? How can they be so naïve? How can anyone in today's world be so uninformed? We tend to forget that for many people, they are entering a truly foreign environment when they visit our facilities. Individuals in our society have become far removed from the natural world and their heritage. They suffer from the isolation and remoteness of a culture that views the world through electronic media.

If we turn our view toward ourselves we might find a common ground with this inability to relate. When I enter the world of computers, it is a foreign and alien world. I have no comprehension of how or why these things work. Although I use a computer on a daily basis, often stuck in front of one for the whole day, I cannot grasp their inner workings. It is my belief that magic is involved and that gremlins, gnomes, goblins, elves, pixies, leprechauns or other wee folk are involved. I will cling tenaciously to this belief. Those of you who understand computers will just have to be patient and tolerate my ignorance.

Interpreters can become so deeply immersed in their particular world that they forget that there are others who have not had the same experiences. Our profession is experiential. Books can give us information and lead us to the acquisition of knowledge. However, understanding … this comes only from experience and exposure. Therefore, much of what we present in our interpretation should be taken from our personal connections to the resource. And we often take the wonder of this for granted. Our tendency is to assume that everyone has been blessed with the opportunities to have the same life experiences that we often enjoy on a daily basis. This is sadly not the case.

In our profession, it seems hard not to wax poetic when we talk about our jobs in general and the experiences we have. But it is natural when you consider that we deal with experiences that touch that deeper inner place of self, often referred to as the soul. Poetry lends expression to both the experience and the impressions made on our mind. Like many in this field, I read and write poetry. I find in it an avenue of communication for the emotions that are the inevitable results of constant exposure to the miracles around us. The following piece conveys the impact of everyday experiences.

I'VE WALKED
I've walked thru grasses
that waved in the wind
high over my head.
I've laid myself down
to rest beneath the sky
with countless stars shining
just beyond my fingertips.
I've heard the magnificent
roar as mighty rivers plunged
into canyons that were sky deep.
I've been lulled to sleep
by the subtle whisper of a brook
passing by gently and softly.
I've known the scalding heat left
on my face by a vicious icy wind
that had no mercy, no conscience.
I've been gently caressed by the
sun, allowing its fingers to
spread warmth over me, holding me
in its comforting grip.
I've seen the morning sky catch fire
as the sun slowly awoke, rising
to make its compulsive journey.
I've watched as the day laid itself
down to rest and the sun closed its eye,
turning the world the same shades
as were witnessed at its birth.
I've allowed myself the birthright
of all men, the right to know
intimately the earth and her glories.
I've freely given myself to wonder
and the inspiration of association
with the creator through his creation.

We too often assume that everyone has walked the same path that we have. That everyone looks through the same eyes with which we see. That everyone has seen the same miracles that we have.

"THERE ARE TWO WAYS TO LIVE LIFE …
ONE IS AS THOUGH NOTHING IS A MIRACLE
THE OTHER IS AS THOUGH EVERYTHING IS A MIRACLE." --Albert Einstein

Where is true quality of life? Isn't it found in an abiding sense of wonder? The richness of life is dependent on an awareness of place … whether that place is physical or mental. Some may argue, rightfully so, that they can have a very rich live in a very dreary physical place. This is why people continue to marry, have babies and continue with their lives in the midst of war, famine and other physical atrocities. This is not just location, but rather place in the greater sense of relationship to the larger whole. The field of interpretation is filled with individuals who live by the second creed or mindset of Einstein's quote. Interpreters, with perhaps a few exceptions, seem to know that everything is a miracle. The profession draws on those who are already aware of the connections between themselves and the world around them. Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the one less traveled." All of us, who have chosen interpretation, walk a road less traveled.

We walk trails fully aware of the profusion of miracles all about us. When we help people make the connection, when we help them bridge the gap, they immediately improve the quality of life for themselves and for those around them.

Again, turning to poetry:

The Psalmist sings ...
The psalmist sings,
"The heavens declare the glory of God
and the firmament sheweth His handiwork.
Day unto day uttereth speech,
night unto night sheweth knowledge."
Nature instructs us,
her lessons played out
on the slate of life.
The seed is buried,
its hull decays,
roots dive deep
burrowing, securing,
drawing nourishment.
With equal determination
a tender shoot
cleaves the soil
forcing itself into freedom
and a new life begins.
The spider spins and weaves,
her web
microcosm and macrocosm,
the universe ...
part and parcel,
portion and whole
... reflected there.
Each moment of each day
a million miracles
compose the fabric of existence.
I glory in nature
her intricacies, mysteries,
the abundance which is her life
and the evidence of
the Creator's hand.
And I woefully wonder
at those who
cannot see it.

David wrote, "day unto day uttereth speech … night unto night sheweth knowledge." Our environment gives us instruction. Our environment leads us to knowledge. Our environment leads us to wisdom. If, we are able to open ourselves to it, connect with it.

The web of life … the spider's web, as a symbol of life, is used in the scriptures, by Native Americans, and in eastern cultures. Throughout written and unwritten history, the concept continues that life can be seen in the web. Every strand is connected, by its architecture, to every other strand. When one strand is touched, the vibration is communicated throughout the whole. If one strand is broken, the entire structure is weakened. The spider constructs her web and connects it solidly to its surroundings. She is constantly vigilant in repair and maintenance.

The web is our universe, our environment, our culture, society, personal relationships, health, and happiness. What is represented here is the concept of total balance … HARMONY. Interpreters lead people to connect the strands of their existence to their natural and cultural roots. We build the bridges that allow webs to be fully expanded. We lead others to the understanding that all things are connected.

As we help others bridge the gap we must be aware so we don't lose our balance. I have a cousin who worked "high steel". He built bridges for a living. He took a serious fall. When he talked about the accident he would say, "I lost my balance." Anytime people describe a fall they eventually get around to, "I lost my balance." Most of the time in interpretation we use the term 'burnout' … it's the same thing!

School tours: average 350 kids per day, 5 days per week, mid-March through first of June, 10 or 11 weeks … 17,500 kids! You hate kids … never want to see another one!!! You don't understand how people can continue making these wretched little creatures.

Live snake programs: 48th program in 50 days … the only people more tired than you, are the snakes.

It is so easy to lose your balance … to burn out. Balance requires AWARENESS. Balance is a matter of self-determination. The actions needed to maintain balance are actually very simple. TAKE TIME TO FULFILL YOURSELF! Use your creativity to provide diversity in your programs. If you are tired of the same old presentation then change it. Also, you must know your limitations and be willing to communicate them. When the interpreter at the forge is at the point that he is going to strangle the next person that asks, "is that fire real?" he needs to go to his supervisor and request duty mucking stables … or anything else that will get him away from the forge for a bit. We all need to be flexible and we need to be realistic. Change is good for more reasons than can be presented in this short paper.

Finally, take time to fill your senses. We work in a very sensual occupation! Good interpretation seeks to engage the visitor through all of the senses. If you work at a nature center or historic site that has natural areas and trails … WALK THEM … by yourself. Absorb your surroundings the way you hope your visitors will. In a living history program, as you are working, close your eyes for a moment … listen to all of the sounds … breath in all of the aromas. Take time to open yourself to the miracles that surround you. Experience your environment.

We need to cross the same bridges that we help build for others.

* Based on a presentation at the Association of Missouri Interpreters Annual Conference, 2000.