Two years ago, I had a conversation with a guest that changed my definition of museums forever. This brief interaction has anchored my view of public history, and served as a reminder of how meaningful museums are to their communities. 

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On this particular morning, I began my routine at the museum as usual. I unlocked the double glass doors, disarmed the alarm, turned on the lights, and went through the morning procedures. This museum, dedicated to the local history of Nevada, might seem small from the outside—housed in an old Safeway building—but guests are often impressed by the vast and well-curated exhibits inside.

After completing my morning tasks, I made a cup of coffee and took my position at the front desk, ready to welcome the day’s visitors. As the day progressed, I busied myself with memberships, article submissions, and the usual assortment of tasks. Around 11 AM, two people walked through the glass doors.

I greeted the pair with my usual welcoming smile. They appeared to be in their mid-60s, perhaps a bit younger. As they approached, the man hesitated and moved toward a nearby bench, leaving the woman to speak with me.

The woman inquired about the payment, and I informed her that it was a $5 suggested donation. She seemed a bit scattered, glancing around nervously. To help ease her anxiety, I provided detailed information about the best place to start and mentioned the temporary exhibit we were featuring. She thanked me and was about to walk away when she paused, turned back, and said with a smile, 

I was astonished. I stared at her for a moment before managing to say, “Really?” (Of course, it was true, but I didn’t know what else to say.)

“Well, congratulations,” I said, still unsure of the right words. “I hope you two have a wonderful day here.” She beamed at me, then turned to join her brother.

And with that, they were off, embarking on a day that held the promise of renewed connection.

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I have not stopped thinking about this interaction since it happened. 

They chose to reunite at a museum. 

I will be the first to say, museums should not be neutral. If 2016 and 2020 showed us anything, it is that museums need to take a proactive stance in politics. However, this interaction showed me that museums can be safe spaces for the people to learn, socialize, and come together as a community. 

This was not the first time I witnessed this museum become a community hub for it's town residents. Teens would frequently hang out at the museum after school. Teens — who maybe didn’t feel safe wandering the streets until their parents could pick them up. And on more than one occasion I witnessed a meeting with a social worker, parents, and child. This social worker frequented the museum, and brought these chaperoned visits at the museum because it was neutral territory, and offered activities for kids. 

This interaction reaffirmed my belief in the power of museums to foster connections and provide a safe haven for the community. It is a reminder that, despite the need for political engagement, museums hold a unique role in creating inclusive and supportive environments for all.

What does it mean for museums to become community hubs for the public? Do museums need to be free or donation-based, or can they foster this mentality through effective programming, free days, and welcoming spaces?

This mentality of a "community hub" can be adapted to any public history space. People attach meaning to historic sites, battlefields, parks, and museums, and they crave community connection in these spaces. Becoming a community hub involves listening to the public and understanding their specific needs and desires for the institution. Fostering community engagement in public history spaces is not limited to a particular budget or museum type; it starts with the organization's mentality toward its community.

Understanding and connecting with an audience is often the key to success or failure in public history. For that reason, relevance is essential in cultivating a community hub.

For example, consider an art museum located in a bustling metropolitan area. The museum focuses on creating numerous child and family-centered programs, which are a great success. Encouraged by this success, the museum continues to develop more child-oriented programs.

However, what if this museum is situated in the heart of a college town? By exclusively catering to children, it might be neglecting a significant demographic—teens and young adults. Is the museum truly relevant to the town's audience in this scenario?

A closer examination would reveal that the museum is not engaging with teens and younger adults and is therefore not serving its entire community. But what if this museum opened its doors to teens and young adults? Hosting college nights, teaching teen art classes, and offering internships would make the museum more valuable to this demographic.

In conclusion, for museums to become true community hubs, they must focus on relevance and inclusivity. This means actively listening to the public's needs and adapting programs to serve all demographics, not just a select few. Museums can foster a community-centric mentality through thoughtful programming and by creating welcoming spaces. By reaching out to various groups, such as teens and young adults in addition to children and families, and engaging them through targeted events and partnerships, museums can establish themselves as community hubs that resonate with and serve their entire audience.