Passionate or Passionless? Conducting quality interpretive programs on topics that don't interest you
In a picture-perfect world, I would only deliver picture-perfect interpretive programs at my site on subjects I am deeply knowledgeable and passionate about. But as a close colleague of mine bluntly stated to me once, "Sometimes as interpretive naturalists we don't always have the luxury of doing only the programs that we like to do."
Most naturalists that I've worked with would consider themselves generalists who know a little bit about everything, from plants, to insects, to local history, to everything in between. However, there are some topics that are more of a specialty or some than for others. For example, I know a lot about salamanders, but I would actually consider my coworker more of the "herp specialist" since he has studied herpetology more extensively than myself. As such, he is often the one to lead our reptile and amphibians programs at my nature center. In contrast, I am generally considered by others to be more well-versed on the subjects of birds and wildflowers, and subsequently I am usually the one people turn to for questions about these groups of organisms. In either case, both of us are knowledgeable and passionate about the aforementioned subjects, and we are both fully competent to conduct interpretive programs on these topics. What makes it even easier for us, though, is that both of take interest in learning about birds, wildflowers, and salamanders.
However, we do not live in a picture-perfect world, and sometimes I'm assigned a program topic that I'm simply not interested in. At my site each year, we have a special event, "Archeology Day", that coincides with Illinois Archeology Month, a statewide initiative to showcase and develop an appreciation for Illinois' important archeology sites and research projects.
I am going to have to apologize ahead of time to many of my colleagues for admitting this but, despite participating in archeology digs, visiting enormous Maya and Inca ruins during a study-broad college class, attending lectures by nationally acclaimed archaeologists, and even spending 6 months as an intern at an archaeological park, I still find the subject of archeology tedious and uninteresting. It's not that I find ruins of ancient cities unimpressive, nor do I discredit the importance of data collected from archaeological research in regards to understanding human society, but the truth is much of the direct work involved with archeology...well...seems quite boring to be honest. To be well-versed in the discipline apparently requires days of literature reviews, hours of sifting in sand for fragments of artifacts, and meticulously cataloging each artifact (I imagine some of my colleagues would find some of my work just as cumbersome, such as cutting invasive Buckthorn for several hours a day to restore a tall-grass prairie).
Ideally, I would defer what I consider an uninteresting subject such as an archeology-themed program to another staff member. But as a paid employee of my respective organization, I am sometimes required to carry out interpretive programs that are not necessarily specialties or interests of mine, and I am required to carry those programs out with enthusiasm using proper interpretive techniques, as with all naturalist-led programs at my site.
So what can you do if you're stuck doing a program that you're completely uninterested in but still knowledgeable about? One method that has worked well for me is to "connect the dots" between one subject (the one you are not interested in) and the subject(s) you are interested in. For example, perhaps you are a wildlife enthusiast, but when it comes to plants you couldn't care less about them. Yet you are selected to lead a summer wildflower walk at your site. One way you could make the program more appealing for you while still staying relevant to the topic is to discuss the important roles that wildflowers have in providing food and cover for wildlife. Also, many important insect species such as butterflies require the presence of a certain species or family of plants in order to carry out their life cycles.
My colleagues who are enthusiastic about Archeology would be quick to point out to me that the importance of understanding Archeology is not only about understanding human culture, but also the influence of past peoples on a subject I take great interest in: local ecology. Archeology research has helped to reveal the influence of Native Americans on the development of local ecosystems, as ancient people periodically set wildfires in our region that allowed the persistence of fire-dependent communities such as prairies and oak-savannas (figure 1). Therefore I could potentially offer a significant contribution to my site's Archeology Day event by developing programs or exhibits highlighting the connections of past cultures to local natural history, thus connecting the dots between my passions and the needs of my workplace.
Indeed, common interests between topics you're interested in and the topic you're not interested in can fuel the passion you need to deliver a professional interpretive program. But interpreters should also be careful about how they deliver programs whose topic they are passionate about but whose audience might be otherwise. For example, I love to identify spring wildflowers. As soon as the first warm day in the spring sends forth our early-blooming wildflowers, I love to burst out of the doors of our cozy nature center building, with my Newcomb's wildflower field guide in hand, and start to run through the keys to figure out which wildflower is which and what taxonomic families of plants they belong. Indeed, identifying the taxonomic class of wildflowers in the spring is my quick cure for cabin fever. But emphasizing wildflower taxonomy with our nature center visitors at a family program could be nothing more than a cure for insomnia. While it's certainly acceptable to include information on identification of wildflowers, a better method of engaging your audience might be to include more universal themes such as stories and folklore about these harbingers of Spring.
Generally speaking interpretive programs should prioritize the interests of the audience as opposed to the interpreter. But it's still important for the interpreter to also exhibit passion for the topics of their programs. Finding connections between the topic at hand and the interests of your audience can help you deliver a moving and provocative program. Indeed, as Tilden has stated, interpretation is driven by a deeper sense of understanding that can develop into a call to action to protect our natural and cultural resources. Keeping this overarching mission of interpretation in mind will hopefully provide just enough steam for you to deliver a quality interpretive program with just the right amount of passion you need to provoke your audience (and yourself).
Finally, the mission of your organization should always come into consideration when planning any time of interpretive program, regardless of your own personal interest or background. If you are passionate about your agency's mission, then use that passion and energy to fuel enthusiasm and provocation into your program delivery. Fake it if you need to, because your job is less about putting on a "nice program" and more about facilitating a change in the mindset and behavior of your audience in a manner that enhances stewardship of our natural and cultural resources.
Most naturalists that I've worked with would consider themselves generalists who know a little bit about everything, from plants, to insects, to local history, to everything in between. However, there are some topics that are more of a specialty or some than for others. For example, I know a lot about salamanders, but I would actually consider my coworker more of the "herp specialist" since he has studied herpetology more extensively than myself. As such, he is often the one to lead our reptile and amphibians programs at my nature center. In contrast, I am generally considered by others to be more well-versed on the subjects of birds and wildflowers, and subsequently I am usually the one people turn to for questions about these groups of organisms. In either case, both of us are knowledgeable and passionate about the aforementioned subjects, and we are both fully competent to conduct interpretive programs on these topics. What makes it even easier for us, though, is that both of take interest in learning about birds, wildflowers, and salamanders.
However, we do not live in a picture-perfect world, and sometimes I'm assigned a program topic that I'm simply not interested in. At my site each year, we have a special event, "Archeology Day", that coincides with Illinois Archeology Month, a statewide initiative to showcase and develop an appreciation for Illinois' important archeology sites and research projects.
I am going to have to apologize ahead of time to many of my colleagues for admitting this but, despite participating in archeology digs, visiting enormous Maya and Inca ruins during a study-broad college class, attending lectures by nationally acclaimed archaeologists, and even spending 6 months as an intern at an archaeological park, I still find the subject of archeology tedious and uninteresting. It's not that I find ruins of ancient cities unimpressive, nor do I discredit the importance of data collected from archaeological research in regards to understanding human society, but the truth is much of the direct work involved with archeology...well...seems quite boring to be honest. To be well-versed in the discipline apparently requires days of literature reviews, hours of sifting in sand for fragments of artifacts, and meticulously cataloging each artifact (I imagine some of my colleagues would find some of my work just as cumbersome, such as cutting invasive Buckthorn for several hours a day to restore a tall-grass prairie).
Ideally, I would defer what I consider an uninteresting subject such as an archeology-themed program to another staff member. But as a paid employee of my respective organization, I am sometimes required to carry out interpretive programs that are not necessarily specialties or interests of mine, and I am required to carry those programs out with enthusiasm using proper interpretive techniques, as with all naturalist-led programs at my site.
So what can you do if you're stuck doing a program that you're completely uninterested in but still knowledgeable about? One method that has worked well for me is to "connect the dots" between one subject (the one you are not interested in) and the subject(s) you are interested in. For example, perhaps you are a wildlife enthusiast, but when it comes to plants you couldn't care less about them. Yet you are selected to lead a summer wildflower walk at your site. One way you could make the program more appealing for you while still staying relevant to the topic is to discuss the important roles that wildflowers have in providing food and cover for wildlife. Also, many important insect species such as butterflies require the presence of a certain species or family of plants in order to carry out their life cycles.
My colleagues who are enthusiastic about Archeology would be quick to point out to me that the importance of understanding Archeology is not only about understanding human culture, but also the influence of past peoples on a subject I take great interest in: local ecology. Archeology research has helped to reveal the influence of Native Americans on the development of local ecosystems, as ancient people periodically set wildfires in our region that allowed the persistence of fire-dependent communities such as prairies and oak-savannas (figure 1). Therefore I could potentially offer a significant contribution to my site's Archeology Day event by developing programs or exhibits highlighting the connections of past cultures to local natural history, thus connecting the dots between my passions and the needs of my workplace.
Indeed, common interests between topics you're interested in and the topic you're not interested in can fuel the passion you need to deliver a professional interpretive program. But interpreters should also be careful about how they deliver programs whose topic they are passionate about but whose audience might be otherwise. For example, I love to identify spring wildflowers. As soon as the first warm day in the spring sends forth our early-blooming wildflowers, I love to burst out of the doors of our cozy nature center building, with my Newcomb's wildflower field guide in hand, and start to run through the keys to figure out which wildflower is which and what taxonomic families of plants they belong. Indeed, identifying the taxonomic class of wildflowers in the spring is my quick cure for cabin fever. But emphasizing wildflower taxonomy with our nature center visitors at a family program could be nothing more than a cure for insomnia. While it's certainly acceptable to include information on identification of wildflowers, a better method of engaging your audience might be to include more universal themes such as stories and folklore about these harbingers of Spring.
Generally speaking interpretive programs should prioritize the interests of the audience as opposed to the interpreter. But it's still important for the interpreter to also exhibit passion for the topics of their programs. Finding connections between the topic at hand and the interests of your audience can help you deliver a moving and provocative program. Indeed, as Tilden has stated, interpretation is driven by a deeper sense of understanding that can develop into a call to action to protect our natural and cultural resources. Keeping this overarching mission of interpretation in mind will hopefully provide just enough steam for you to deliver a quality interpretive program with just the right amount of passion you need to provoke your audience (and yourself).
Finally, the mission of your organization should always come into consideration when planning any time of interpretive program, regardless of your own personal interest or background. If you are passionate about your agency's mission, then use that passion and energy to fuel enthusiasm and provocation into your program delivery. Fake it if you need to, because your job is less about putting on a "nice program" and more about facilitating a change in the mindset and behavior of your audience in a manner that enhances stewardship of our natural and cultural resources.
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| Figure 1: There is strong evidence that indicates Oak savannas in the Chicago region were historically maintained by wildfires set by Native Americans. |
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