NAI Blog

There have been many models to predict decision-making behavior through the years. Our modern industry of marketing and advertising is based largely on decision-making models. After all, the goal of most advertising is to persuade you to engage in a particular behavior—namely purchasing a particular product or service. Whether we like to admit it or not, most interpreters are in a similar business. We’re trying to persuade our audience to engage in particular behaviors, such as resource conservation, protecting heritage sites, supporting the organizations that make our work possible. So there may be some merit in keeping up with current thought and practice in the marketing world.

I recently read some work by Dr. James March, Professor Emeritus in Political Science and Business at Stanford University. Dr. March developed a model based on two key dimensions in making decisions; 1) logical consequences of behavior and 2) the propensity for humans to be attracted to behaviors that reinforce our image or identity. Persuading someone to take a particular action in order to avoid dire consequences (threat appeal) can sometimes get short-term results, but seldom changes long-term behavior. Engaging in behavior that is consistent with some aspect of your identity (or who you aspire to be) is a far more attractive proposition, and one that is more likely to be reinforced by intrinsic rewards.

One of the challenges we face in conservation education is getting people to adopt conservation behaviors, and Dr. March’s model may help explain why we aren’t more effective in this endeavor. It seems like so much of the time we’re telling people about the consequences of inaction on environmental issues. If I keep burning fossil fuels, I’m adding to climate change. If I eat rock cod, I’m depleting a valuable fishery. In other words, the messaging around many conservation issues tends to focus on the bad outcomes that will result if we don’t change our ways. That may be true, but it’s not very motivating. If the messages reinforced our affinity for nature and painted a picture of a sustainable future that we could enjoy—we might be more willing to consider long-term changes in our behavior. Focusing on gains is going to be more popular that focusing on losses—so let’s frame things in terms of all the good we have to gain.

Some of the more successful conservation efforts in the past century have been based on a positive vision of the future. The nation’s national parks were initiated as a way to protect wildlife and timber from widespread poaching efforts. However, from the perspective of the American public, this was a program to protect the nation’s unique natural and cultural wonders for all time—and folks got behind it. Ducks Unlimited was founded to set aside wetlands and waterfowl habitat with the vision of maintaining waterfowl populations into the future—and both hunters and birdwatchers happily support the organization.

It’s also helpful to reinforce aspects of your audience’s identity that are consistent with the behavior or decision you want them to adopt. If you’re trying to nurture supporters for your nature center—let’s call it the Norman Marsh Nature Center, how about addressing you’re audience as “friends of the Norman Marsh Nature Center” or “wise students of nature” or some other complimentary term. Sam Ham refers to that technique as labeling, and it’s one of my favorites. Reinforcing desired aspects of identity helps to reinforce decisions that support that identity. So if I see myself as a friend of the nature center, I’m more likely to make choices that support the mission of that institution.

We interpreters tend to be passionate about the resources we’re protecting—we wouldn’t be as effective without that passion. However, that can lead us to using consequence-based arguments to help get our audience to act.  Just remember that using positive emotional connections and appealing to the positive aspects of your audience’s identity is going to inspire long-term commitment to positive choices.

—Jim Covel

Bob Hinkle introduces the planning class to the West Creek Reservation site for the new WaterShed project.

I’m not in the new sitcom, Hot in Cleveland. I’m in Cleveland and it’s not hot this week, temperature-wise. But it is really HOT in our business due to Cleveland Metroparks (CM). Bob Hinkle is the Chief of Outdoor Education and for 39 years he has been a member of NAI and AIN before that, one of our two parent organizations. His leadership in CM’s education and interpretive programs for 28 years has been amazing. Dr. Bob, as many affectionately call him, has encouraged professional development as a cultural norm in this old and revered park district.

This is our fourth interpretive planning course in Cleveland at his request and managers of nature centers and programs in this system are required to earn the Certified Interpretive Manager or Planner credential. CM’s planner, landscape architect and designers have had the planner course, helping them work together with site managers and interpreters, all using a common process and planning vocabulary.

Lisa Brochu explains logic models with an example.

This week’s course is working on the challenge of planning the interpretive elements on the WaterShed grounds that augment the services of the building in achieving site objectives. Participants are from all over the U.S. and Canada along with six staff members of CM, with varying levels of experience in interpretive planning and graphic design. During the course, participants are exposed to planning principles and processes, then apply what they’ve learned to the on-site project challenge.

The culture of professional development and interpretive planning encouraged by Bob Hinkle is important to the success of CM’s six nature centers and other outdoor programs. Large organizations with  policies, politics and bureaucracy can end up with a “can’t do it” emotional environment, but thoughtful training and planning keeps professionals open to personal growth and empowers them with an understanding of what they CAN DO cost effectively and efficiently. CM continues to invest in helping their dedicated professionals grow and become better planners – that’s HOT and is making a difference in Cleveland.

-Tim Merriman

Thimbleberry photo by Chris Diewald from flickr.com

I look forward to a particular tradition this time of the summer—harvesting some of nature’s bounty in the form of wild berries.  Over the past few weeks I’ve been observing the blossoms on the elderberries and huckleberries, then watching the fruit slowly forming and ripening.  The thimbleberries came first this year.  There are never enough to preserve, so I just eat them as I encounter them walking along some of the shaded canyon slopes where they thrive.  The sky blue bloom is forming on the elderberries, so they’ll be ready soon.  I’ll probably have to wait until late August to gather huckleberries in this part of the country, and it’s well worth the wait.

I inherited this taste for berries from my parents.  My father had his favorite berry-picking sites in the hills around Oakland and Berkeley.  Many a Saturday morning was spent picking blackberries, elderberries and huckleberries throughout the summer.  We’d bring the bounty home where my mother would create the most incredible jam, jelly, pies, muffins and other goodies with these berries.  Any extras would go in the freezer so we could enjoy some of these summer treats throughout the year.  To this day I would bet money that the absolute best PB&J sandwiches are made with elderberry jelly.

Of course I’m not the only one interested in the summer berry crop.  There are quite a few critters that are also watching to see when their favorite berries are ripe for the picking.  One of the elderberry bushes I used to frequent was on the edge of a thicket that was home to a covey of quail.  During the berry season, the quail were often in the upper branches eating the berries I couldn’t reach.  As long as I went about my business quietly, the quail were happy to stay put and share the berries with me.  Through the years I’ve run into foxes, raccoons, skunks, opossums and a wide variety of birds in berry patches.  Thus picking turned into a combination of ritual and summer celebration, sharing the best nature has to offer with my fellow berry fans.

From time to time I think about what it was like picking berries in the past when the California grizzly bear was common in many parts of the state.  These bears were also big berry eaters, and they weren’t as good about sharing the resource as the raccoons and foxes.  Accounts of some of the early settlers in California advised taking a rifle when going after berries and checking the brush and thickets thoroughly to avoid surprising a snacking bear.  Life is a little more safe and simple in the berry patch today.

When appropriate, I’ve included some berry tasting for the audience on a nature walk.  We’re always trying to make use of multiple senses in interpretation, and taste is perhaps the most challenging sense to use.  There just aren’t that many things that are safe or appropriate to taste in nature, compared to the sounds, sights, and feel of so many nature objects.  But berries combine some interesting taste sensations with great stories.

Here’s wishing you a berry happy summer!

- Jim Covel

Freeman Tilden’s Six Principles of Interpretation (Interpreting Our Heritage, 1957) have endured as wisdom about the profession for 53 years. In 1998 Ted Cable and Larry Beck updated them as the first six in their Fifteen Guiding Principles in their excellent book, Interpretation for the 21st Century. So I hereby propose the 7th or 16th Principle, depending on whether you cite Tilden or Cable and Beck. It is:

“Interpretation is management.”

For all my 40 years in the field I’ve heard, “Interpretation is a management tool.” The difference between that statement and the belief that interpretation is management is subtle, but important. A tool can be picked up or left in the toolshed. It may or may not be useful depending on how someone wants to solve a particular problem. If we believe that interpretation is management, then it becomes an integral part of every operation, not an option.

Hundreds of social science and communications studies document the ability of well-planned communication to influence attitudes, beliefs and behaviors. Using that knowledge, we can design thematic programs and media that help achieve our objectives.

I first heard Mike Watson, former Superintendent of Mather Training Center for National Park Service, say, “Interpretation is management” many years ago. The more I’ve thought about it over the years, the more convinced I am that this idea should be fundamental to how we think and teach in this profession. In 2007 we added the words “mission-based” to our definition of interpretation after deep discussions with other professionals in the Definitions Project that produced a new lexicon for the field.

To me this Sixteenth Principle is key because it suggests that what we do must be designed to make a difference in pursuit of our mission. Few managers will keep interpretive programs through thick and thin unless it has value as management. It’s the 7th or 16th Principle of interpretation in my view.

-Tim Merriman

Monterey Bay has been invaded by whales. Every few years the krill population explodes, and that means dinner’s on for a wide variety of birds, fishes, and marine mammals that gather for the feeding opportunity. The shoals of krill are 200-300 feet thick and may extend for a couple of miles in each direction. This is the stuff that baleen whales dream of.

In a good year we may see 10-12 blue whales on the central California coast. This year over 40 blues are concentrated in Monterey Bay. There are perhaps twice that number of humpback whales along with them. These whales are in serious feeding mode. They’ve been lounging in tropical waters off Central America all winter where food is relatively scarce. So they’ve hit town with an appetite, ready to make up for many months on slim rations. The blue whales alone are consuming as much as 160 tons of krill each day collectively. You can’t get that volume of food sucking up one krill at a time. The whales look for dense swarms of krill, and then they literally take bites out of the ocean, but those bites each contain tens of thousands of krill per bite. After filtering out the sea water, you’re left with a mouth full of bright red crustaceans for lunch. This strategy only works when the krill are very dense, and scientists think blue whales move from one krill swarm to the next up and down the coast.

The humpback whales have a slightly different strategy. Several whales work together, diving under a swarm of krill and pushing them up toward the surface. They may blow a bubble ring around the krill to force them more closely together. As the krill are trapped against the surface of the ocean, the humpbacks swim up through the swarm in sequence, mouths agape, scooping up hundreds of pounds of krill in each mouthful. As the first whale hits the surface it closes its mouth to trap krill and water inside. Some krill will spill out of the side of the whale’s mouth—right into the mouth of the whale coming up next to it, and so on until perhaps five or six whales have all hit the surface and gulped a big hole through the middle of the krill swarm. This “lunge feeding” can go on for hours, and not make a dent in the big shoals of krill.

I spent the afternoon parked on top of a shoal of krill with blue whales and humpbacks feeding all around. At one point I could look directly down into the red (with krill) waters below, and see the white flippers of humpbacks rising very close to our boat! But the whales are just part of the show; many other creatures come to capitalize on the abundance of food. Blue sharks and basking sharks appear to skim krill near the surface. Albatross, shearwaters and many other seabirds come from hundreds of miles away to feed on the krill and/or small fishes and squids that are drawn to the krill. In past years I’ve caught my share of salmon around the edges of these krill swarms.

These feeding frenzies are a spectacular example of nature’s abundance in a healthy ecosystem. What I find truly amazing is how these creatures of the open ocean find these concentrated feeding opportunities with so many thousands of square miles to search. As we learn more about the lives of whales and seabirds, we’re starting see how they follow sea surface temperature gradients, pressure systems and other subtle clues that may guide them to ideal conditions that concentrate food. Whales may able to communicate across miles of open ocean, so if one whale finds the groceries, it may be able to invite others to join in the meal.

We never know how long these conditions will persist and how long the whales will stick around. We’re just enjoying the scene while it lasts, and trying to learn as much as we can while we’re observing these magnificent creatures.

—Jim Covel

Tomo Hara of Japan, Rick Morales from Panama and Tim Merriman chat at the 2010 International Conference in Townsville, Australia.

More than 40 years ago my college roommate, Bernie, told me that his supervisor in the guidance counseling office at Southern Illinois University shared the secret of long relationships. It was simple – “Give 100%, expect nothing back. Don’t think you are in a 50/50 relationship with your spouse, friends, customers or anyone. You’ll begin to feel you’re giving 55? and they are only giving 45%. You turn a relationship into a contest. Then someone has to win and someone has to lose. It was a wise thought back then and one I need as a reminder every day or two.

If you care enough about thoughtful relationships to give 100% and just be surprised and pleased at anything shared back with you, you will do well with relationships. I was not surprised today to get a promotion from the Simple Truths website indicating they sell a book based on this idea as the 100/0 Principle. I know the notion is at least 40 years old, but perhaps it is thousands of years old, as old as relationships.

Interpreters meet people daily with an opportunity to create lasting relationships. The visitor or guest that seems to be with us for the day may return, tell a friend or not see us for decades. Just this past year a woman from Illinois contacted me by Facebook to ask if I am the same Tim Merriman who worked at Giant City State Park. Geri explained she is a Postmaster in a town near where I grew up. She visited the park and attended my snake program and I showed her family the behind the scenes animals during their visit. She said it made a great impression and she raised her children to be respectful of wildlife and snakes especially. I was pleased to learn more about her life, family and deep interest in nature and we continue as Facebook friends.

Our investment in others will come back in great ways if we do not expect it to be an equal exchange. We share all we can and should expect that an investment in honest, thoughtful communication will lead better places, even if we disagree at times. I am not suggesting we be doormats, just not turn relationships into contests with a winner and loser. We can and should have honest dialogues about real issues of importance.

Relationships with partners, donors, members, supporters and guests are easier if you take personal responsibility for communicating well. Honesty is important. But honesty can be a bludgeon or it can be helpful in a relationship. It depends on the kindness in the delivery. Helping a colleague perform better may require some honest advice from a friendly perspective. If it just sounds like criticism, it doesn’t work as well. It can also be opening an honest discussion rather than a heated disagreement. Either can be about the same issues, but the one with empathy is likely to help the relationship grow.

I claim no personal mastery of all of this. Every day is a challenge in finding the right words in each relationship. It is all worth the effort to do better in every circumstance. Complaints are especially an opportunity to work on relationships. The LAST method is often taught by trainers as a way of remembering the right reaction to complaints. LAST stands for Listen, Apologize, Soften and Thank.

In application it sounds something like. “Umm, OK (listen while they explain), I apologize for what happened. That would upset me as well. Let’s talk about how we might make this situation better for you. Thanks for bringing this to our attention. We only get better if we know what is not working.” It’s easy to be defensive (I know, I’ve done that too often), throw someone under the bus (the blame game), or over react. Most folks just want a fair hearing and fixing a problem will often result in a better relationship, maybe a lasting one. Sometimes they know there is no real “fix.” They just want to vent and be heard to protect a future guest from whatever happened.

Relationships take honest effort on our part and listening skills. We cannot expect others to do their part. We only control ourselves. Every day we have new opportunities to create great new relationships that will enrich our lives and our organizations. It is not always easy, but it is worth the effort.

-Tim Merriman

This spring, I had an opportunity to visit an aboriginal cultural center in Queensland, Australia, this spring. It wasn’t a large or fancy facility, but it held some art and objects that were very meaningful to the people of the tribes that maintained the center. They had a name for this special place—the “keeping place.” It is a place where things that are meaningful to a group of people are kept safe.

Ever since, I’ve been captivated by this term and the concept. It would be easy to cast the keeping place as another type of museum—but it’s more than that. Objects came and went as they were actively being used by the members of those tribes. It seemed more like a “heritage lending library” than a repository of artifacts. In this way, it was helping to keep the culture alive by providing ongoing access to the meaningful objects that were important symbols to the people.

Perhaps the keeping place is a bit like a story. If someone tells you a good story, consider it a gift. If you write that story down, you may have preserved it for posterity. However, that story only stays alive if it is told and re-told. The memory of the teller is kept alive if the story is re-told in the tradition in which it was learned. Maintaining the tradition of the telling is part of maintaining the culture the story belongs to. Preserving a story on paper doesn’t really accomplish that larger goal of continuing a culture. So like telling a traditional story, the goal of the keeping place is to keep the culture alive.

Many of us work in positions where we are responsible for preserving a cultural or natural resource—perhaps a collection of objects, a historic structure, a place where a significant event took place, a unique example of nature’s wonders. In every case, some group of people identified that resource as having such significance that it should be kept intact. This is our version of the keeping place—helping to keep safe those things that are part of our cultural and natural heritage. We become the keepers of each keeping place.

As interpreters, we are also the storytellers of these keeping places. Our responsibility goes beyond preservation and documentation—we are responsible for keeping the resource alive by telling the stories that made it meaningful to the founders and make it meaningful for today’s audiences. In some cases those founders are aboriginal people and we are losing the languages of the stories, the names of the sacred places, and we have an even greater challenge to keep those stories alive, to do justice to the idea of the keeping place.

Where I live in Monterey, California, the local Rumsian Ohlone tribe was swallowed up so quickly by the Spanish and then Americans, that their language had become extinct and with it, their stories and names. A neighbor, Linda Yamane, is a descendent of the Rumsian. Her grandmother told her many traditional stories as a child, including names and some other key words. Years later, Linda located some ancient wax cylinder recordings of Rumsian stories in a vault at The University of California, Berkeley—the same stories her grandmother told her! Listening to the recordings and matching words with the meanings she learned as a child, she slowly resurrected the stories and ultimately the Rumsian language. The tribe regained an important part of its heritage and identity. Telling the traditional stories literally helped keep the Rumsian culture alive.

Storytellers are the keepers of the essence of nearly every culture. We interpreters play an essential role in maintaining a sense of heritage for any resource we interpret. Every day you have an opportunity to convey that essence of people and place to your audience. Decades from now a future president, CEO, or teacher will have a greater sense of their heritage because of a story you tell a child today.

—Jim Covel

For thirteen years I directed a nature center in Pueblo, Colorado. In my first days there I was surprised to hear the gravel industry across the river from the center described as “the enemy” by some board members. I was told they owned all the land south and west of us and would eventually mine it all, leaving behind lakes surrounded by sterile hills of concrete slabs. I could agree that I did not want to see all of the riparian cottonwoods cut down for the gravel mines, but I could not grasp the concept of them being the enemy, so I got acquainted with them.

At Rotary meetings, I would often sit with Mark, their General Manager, and chat. He was a nice fellow and obviously cared about civic responsibility. Our conversations led to candid talk about the relationship we potentially had as neighbors. His employer owned the land and planned to mine it. We relied on the woods to the west for scenic beauty and wildlife habitat. We preferred it not being mined, but they owned it and had permits to get it done. And yet, they would prefer we not show up at “404″ permit hearings and attempt to block their normal business interests of mining gravel and making concrete. Gravel is the number one mineral in Colorado, not gold, silver or molybdenum as many might think.

In the spirit of cooperation Mark invited me to tour their gravel mines and concrete operation and suggest how they might work more compatibly with the nature center. As we drove around, I commented that they seemed to be burying huge granite boulders. He explained that they were too big for their crusher so they buried them as waste material. I suggested it would make great riprap for the river banks they were currently covering with large flat slabs of waste concrete. He smiled when he said, “Concrete is beautiful.” I laughed. We shared the unspoken joke of seeing each other’s different perspectives on how we work with resources and people. He said they might be able to do something about their approach to riprapping. We went on to talk about cottonwood reforestation on the older banks of the river and lake. They had a replanting program as required by mineland reclamation laws. I suggested they leave a few large “mother” trees and blast the hillsides with water when the cotton seeds of the cottonwoods blow all directions in June each year. They would get free regeneration of native trees. He thought that sounded reasonable. We did consider the possibility that the healthy beaver population would defeat this idea by cutting down the few trees left. That had happened throughout this Arkansas River valley when only a few trees were available for beaver food. Our tour resulted in two possible suggestions for changing some of their work approaches.

I went back to the nature center, pleased that we had such an interesting conversation. I had shared my hope that there would be a way for the gravel company to trade the cottonwood stand by the nature center for other property to mine. He said anything is possible. By the next day we looked across the river and the gravel company had covered sixty feet or so of river bank with the large “waste” granite boulders, covering the concrete slabs. From then on the river banks where they worked had more of a natural granite look and the concrete was obscured. I called to thank Mark and he said to come back in a few days and see their “mother” trees. I did and they had welded industrial size beaver guards around half a dozen large female trees. He explained that they had large pumps and could easily spray regeneration areas to start new cottonwoods.

Over the next few years we encouraged discussions between state parks and the gravel company about land trades. Eventually a corn field on state parks land that held gravel deposits was traded for the cottonwood stand by the nature center. Valco Sand & Gravel has since sold to LaFarge and continues to be a major gravel and concrete provider in Pueblo. Meetings during this period were frustrating because Valco had a clear fifty year plan and state parks did not work that strategically, but eventually it all worked. We found that collaborating with our friends next door was valuable for all of us. Their good will was evident in every way and they often donated concrete to nature center projects.

Some viewed our getting acquainted with a gravel company as fraternizing with the enemy. I think we got to know our neighbors and learned they were good people with an interest in taking care of the community. We all listened and learned.

-Tim Merriman

Most of the time I spent as a park ranger was fun and rewarding to say the least. I wouldn’t trade those days for anything—except the Fourth of July. It was the one holiday I really learned to hate. We had some grand celebrations in the parks—community picnics, music, skydivers, fireworks and more. But from the ranger’s perspective, July 4 also included an exceptional assortment of drunks, auto accidents, grass fires and other events designed to vex the ranger staff. It was consistent. I could count on a couple of fires, and least one trip to the county jail, and extra reports to write about all the day’s activities. July 4 was just a day to survive and hope that it passed as quickly as possible. Sunup on July 5 was always a welcome sight.

Photo by Bethany Carlson

Then one July 4 I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who was a WWII veteran. He mentioned that he loved the holiday from the aspect of family picnics, town parades and the sense of community, but he really disliked fireworks. He went on to explain about July 4, 1944 when he was fighting in the battle of Normandy. The day started with an artillery barrage and another day of fierce combat ensued. He said that for a moment, the artillery triggered a flashback to July 4 celebrations back home and a wealth of warm, vivid memories came rushing back. Those memories reminded him of what he was fighting for, and helped get him through a very difficult day. That July 4 was one he hoped to survive, and he was happy to see July 5 roll around. He never missed another July 4 after the war. However, he had developed a lifelong sensitivity to loud noises that reminded him of artillery and gun fire, so he was never excited about fireworks.

That conversation changed my attitude about July 4 as well. I realized that the July 4 holiday is a gathering together of all Americans to celebrate our heritage as a nation. It shouldn’t be a surprise that most of us choose to celebrate outdoors, because the outdoors and open spaces are such a central element of our national identity. The parks, plazas and beaches fill with people on this holiday, not just to enjoy the summer weather, but also because something just feels right about being outside, sharing food and fun with family and community. That’s who we are.

This is an opportunity for parks and historic sites to shine for a public that is again reminded about the importance of preserving and celebrating our heritage. There will always be a few folks in the crowd that behave badly, but I guess that’s good job security for rangers and enforcement staff. But the majority of folks we see on this holiday represent a grateful nation that values heritage sites and open spaces—and appreciates the people that take care of these places on our behalf.

I hope you had a good July 4 holiday—wherever you were, whatever you were doing. And if you were busy working the holiday (as many interpreters do) I wish you a peaceful and serene July 5.

—Jim Covel

Growing up I heard people say, “When you only own a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” I’ve always liked the application of this old saying in interpretive settings. Too often our media choices in interpretive planning are more a reflection of what we know how to use, not what would be most effective.

I once worked for a park system that bought pantograph type wood router systems for sign making at each park. Just lay out the sign text in the metal template and trace the grooves with the stylus. The wood router would then carve the lettered sign like the metal template. It’s a great idea if you assume that every park needs routed wooden signs and it does create a consistent look. However, if this is the only technology you own, there’s a tendency to put up a lot of routed wood signs, whether they are the best choice or not. Don’t misunderstand me. I like routed wooden signs in some situations. I just don’t like them in all situations.

On a large scale I see site managers who assume a visitor center is needed at every forest and park. And that center needs a theater and introductory video. These media can be effective, but often they are not. Visitor centers have tremendous operating costs and sometimes end up being closed just a few years after being built. It’s hard to to justify hundreds of thousands of operating dollars a year for a facility that gets thousands of visitors annually.

I like to take photos of theaters in visitor and interpretive centers to see how they are being used. Most of the time I find a center with crowds of people but few if any going in to see the fifteen or twenty minute introductory video. Often I see two or three people seated in the back of a 50 or 100 seat theater, near a door so they can exit if it is boring. They want to be out on the trail or on the road, not sitting in a darkened room watching a video, no matter how good it is. Videos can be a powerful medium but they are not requisite in every high traffic facility. And often there seems to be an inverse relationship between the length of the video and number of people watching. Longer is not better. Better is better and sometimes a very short video is more powerful than one that attempts to tell a very complete story. Keep in mind that these theaters and custom videos are very expensive in a project budget, so they need to make a difference.

I have never forgotten the videos I saw at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. The death camp survivors who talked about their survival and lives in the videos were memorable and emotionally engaging. And yet many uses of video seem to be less than effective in helping people connect.

Template-based planning is another common “hammer.” The idea seems reasonable at first glance. Do one plan for a park system and then fill in the blanks for each new interpretive plan. You will end up with clonal boredom, not unique experiences built around specific resources and stories. Not every park is used in the same way and by the same audiences. Every park actually needs a thoughtful interpretive plan that considers the unique Management, Market, Message, Mechanics and Media that will fit together to achieve objectives for the organization. We teach this 5-M process (Interpretive Planning, Brochu, 2003) in the interpretive planning courses offered by NAI. We don’t teach templates.

Recent Interpretive Planning class in Mio, Michigan.

Thirty years ago our planning and training of interpreters was mostly about teaching techniques without regard for which ones worked best with specific audiences in specific situations. Thoughtful interpretive planning is a matter of a using a process that works, not applying the media you like to each situation. The unique value of interpretation in helping people connect with places and stories is amplified by using the right media with each audience to make the experience memorable. Hopefully we can lay down our hammers and quit banging on nails. We can apply a thoughtful process and make a difference. The next interpretive planning course is in Cleveland, Ohio, July 26-30.

- Tim Merriman