Visitor Experience 101, or, Touchy, Feely Museums

I've been thinking a lot about Visitor Experience lately. Not just the visitor experience at my museum, but in general, hence the capital "V" and "E".
I have an idea of what Visitor Experience means, but sometimes I'm not sure if others really do, or if I've gotten it wrong, really.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines "experience" as "an event or occurrence which leaves an impression on someone" and/or "to feel (an emotion or sensation)". I'd have to say that my definition would be a bit of both.

How many times have I written about making visitors feel comfortable, welcome, at home or some other such emotion at the museum? Endless times. For me, the Visitor Experience is all about emotion, feelings, not so much about the product itself. Yes, the product is important, but I can't help but think that it should be secondary, somehow.

We're currently working towards improving the visitor experience at our museums right now. My boss keeps asking things like, "So, imagine I'm a visitor and I arrive at the museum; what do I see?" Questions like these are awesome because they make you think about the program or event in a different light. So often we only think about the program on a surface level and follow a formula, repeating the same things over and over, like a template. But things get stale.

So we're revamping things, and it's awesome.
But the question I want to ask is, "If I'm a visitor and I arrive at the museum; what do I feel?"

I was asking some friends the other day what the visitor experience was going to be like at their museums in 2012. I was a little bit surprised, however, when they essentially answered me by giving me a list of things that visitors are going to do. No real mention of what visitors will feel or "experience".

Traditionally, we develop a program in our head and then find ways to deliver the message and make it a pleasant experience as an afterthought. But I think it should be the other way around; we need to think about what we want people to experience, then develop the program, event, or exhibit around that.

The reason I've been thinking about this is because my intern delivered her first museum program last night. Not her first program with me; her first program ever. I felt that I needed to give her some advice since she admitted to being a bit nervous. It was a snowshoe hike and she knew all the information; she'd been studying the program delivery plan all week.

I told her not to worry, and to remember why people were there. "They aren't here to learn about Geoheritage [the topic]. Let's not kid ourselves. We're going to offer them something so they learn, but that's not why they're here. They're here for fun, to get out, to meet people, to try snowshoeing. Don't get hung up on the info and the delivery. Be yourself, welcome them to the museum and show them a good time."

She did awesome, for the record.

The Programming Buzz, or, Marshmallows for Everyone!!!!

Phew! It's been a while. A long while.
I'd been beginning to wonder if a blog was a good idea at all, seeing as I felt no inspiration to write.
Cue 2012. Cue my spiffy new intern.

Cue the first program of the season. <fist pump>

That funk that I felt when the museum closed in September never really went away. Until last night, that is: snowshoe programming!!!

For once, it's a picture from where I work.
Took this last year at the Winter Survival Skills Workshop.

I had put off writing the program plan for ages. I really should have had it done before the holidays, but didn't end up writing it until Thursday night. To be fair, I'd done all the research (it was to be a nature-themed hike), and had even written an article about it to submit to the local community papers, so I knew what I was talking about. I just couldn't get myself to write the damn thing. Meh, chalk it up to procrastination.

I was pretty chill before the program, thinking, "Hey, I've done this before, no biggie." I had also had the idea to make homemade marshmallows for the participants after the hike, you know, a little extra free prize like I discussed in a previous post. My awesome intern made them for me; delicious, fluffy little marshmallows. My boss was having a hard time coming to grips with whether marshmallow-making was a good use of our time, but if they're a hit, apparently myself and my sister museums will have to serve them at all winter events. We'll see.

So I wasn't really that nervous leading up to the program, until we got there. Then it hit me that my intern was going to be following me, and did I really fully understand the winter survival strategies of the frog and downy woodpecker? There was even a random journalist/photographer who showed up. (Really, I'd love it if you guys would call. It's just a bit awkward when you come and I'm still setting up.) So I'm chatting with the journalist and thinking at the back of my mind about the tour. People start showing up, and we're ready to leave.

I should let you know that it was freaking cold last night. There was even a frostbite warning in effect, but people showed up nonetheless, which is great. We had a total of 8 people and they followed me dutifully around the site. The biggest hiccup was before the program started when, since it was so cold, we broke three pairs of my snowshoes because the frozen plastic straps just snapped. (Oops!) We got back to the campfire a bit too soon, and the fire wasn't started yet, but I asked if people minded going in the house instead. Since it was so cold we opted for that option and sipped hot chocolate and ate awesome marshmallows while we warmed up.

I pride myself on a very intimate and personal visitor experience, which is frankly what I would want. I want the people to feel like my friends or guests, at least, because that's what they are. Last night was no exception and people actually stayed in the ballroom and we chatted about snowshoeing, the museum and other random things (including the history of marshmallows) for at least half an hour.

Anyway, it was awesome!!! After the program I felt such a buzz that I couldn't help but break out in dance; a sentiment quickly mirrored by my intern and the part-time helper. Talking to people, getting to know them, sharing what I know... that's what I do. And it's so fulfilling that it's surprising that I forget about it when I'm stuck in my basement office at the other museum. Maybe it was all the sugar, but now I can't wait to do it again!

I could eat these for breakfast!