
I’ll
be the first to admit that the museum is not the first thought that most
parents of children with Autism probably have when it comes to finding outlets
and resources. Most of what is out there is either associated with more
traditional social contexts (schools, peer groups) or entertainment venues
(movie theaters, live theater). Yet,
public education for individuals with Autism in terms of a museum context is
rarely addressed at all.
For
me, it is truly a shame, as museums have been incredibly important resources
for me as both a child and an adult. It was tough for me to form friendships
growing up, because conversations were very tough for me to follow and
initiate. To this day, I still marvel at children’s conversations amongst
themselves and adults, because my experience of the world was so different from
theirs. However, the museum served as a welcome refuge in which I could engage
with other children in the history summer camp, or see a hieroglyph-covered
object similar to ones I had seen in a book about Ancient Egypt.
As
I grew older, I began to notice discrepancies in the way my peers with
disabilities and other children were viewed. I noticed that we were placed
further and further away from mainstream classrooms and had fewer chances to
interact with the rest of the class. Although I managed to get out of special
education classrooms by the seventh grade, I still felt that I was not
considered equal with my neurotypical peers.
We
still did museum trips, with those to the Metropolitan Museum of Art being my
particular favorite. For just one day, it did not matter that I was not
considered a full peer in my age group, or that not all of my teachers could
see anything past the label of Autism. At the Met, everyone got the same
lesson, enjoyed the same exhibits and did so together. I felt like I could be
valued as a whole student and human being within the halls of the museum.
To
this day, I still value museums highly as a personal educational tool and
recreational point. However, for me, they have taken on a new social role as
well. After doing archaeological fieldwork in the southern United States, I now
volunteer in the educational department of the Harvard Peabody Museum of
Archaeology.
At
our last family event, one of my activities was to teach a hopscotch game to
visitors. At first, I was nervous. Sure, children are absolutely adorable, but
what if I had problems interacting with them because I had difficulties
grasping their point of view? I watched the museum educator model the activity
for a while before I was given full rein of the game. Children of all ages,
from toddlers to teens, streamed in constantly. As I explained the rules and
invited them to play, I initially took the role of an observer. Then, I noticed
as they were having fun, they began to get creative. They added new rules and
challenged their friends to increasingly challenging hopscotch tournaments. I
found myself encouraging the kids, cheering them on and engaging them.
One
little girl, perhaps 7 or 8, approached me after playing. She explained that
recess was not fun for her, because a number of girls had secret games of
hopscotch in which only their immediate friends knew the rules. Her father
explained to me that these girls were popular girls that dominated the school
social scene. Getting down to the girl’s level, I offered some advice: “You can
take this game to school with you, and teach them something new.”
The
museum environment of the 21st should not be taken as an
exclusionary environment. Rather, I believe it has the full potential of being
a fully inclusive educational environment in which anyone can participate. You
don’t have to be of a specific background to enter a museum’s doors: the only
requirement is a desire to learn from the scientific and cultural wonders that
the world has to offer.
Many thanks for sharing your experience of the museum world.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete