Month: Jan 2025

254: if we build it, they will come

In my usual sublime-to-ridiculous way, this week we are hopping from radical inclusion to…. frogs. Yes, frogs. I like frogs.

Also newts, dragonflies, toads and bats (the flying sort, not me).

This handsome chap lives in our garden, and takes no sh*t from anyone.

This aquatic turn of mind was sparked by a last-thing-on-Friday email from our lovely project manager Liz, who is currently thinking about the logistics of getting power onto our new site and – as a pond is featured in the plans – there was a question about how much water would be in it so we’d know how powerful the pump would need to be.

Now, I do not know a great deal about ponds (other than about acclimatising myself to them in the wild) and I know even less about how to calculate the volume of a pond from a flat plan. ‘It looks quite big’, I hazarded. I suspect this was not very helpful.

I don’t know much about frogs either, so I enlisted the assistance of my Beloved who knows about things that happen outside in the garden. He dug a wildlife pond in ours a couple of years ago, which does not as yet have a frog but I live in hope and whenever he finds Tiny* when he’s gardening he puts him in the pond.

Tiny

*Tiny is my newt…sorry

In my head the pond on the new site is not a sterile, shallow water feature which will inevitably be filled with paddling small people without so much as a pondskater to be seen, but a proper wildlife pond where we can have pond-dipping, spot dragonflies and bees and butterflies, and attract all sorts of exciting wildlife including bats who definitely live in Islington and who could be encouraged to come and live on our site if we had a source of quality bugs for them. The pond in my head is raised so people can sit around the edges and people who use wheelchairs can do the pond-dipping activities too. One end of it is a bog garden and the other end is deeper, making a home for things that like deeper water for the laying of frogspawn. (It will have a chickenwire frame over it, so we can lift it for activities and maintenance but cats and would-be paddlers can’t fall in).

Small toad in the strawberry bed

There will be plants like irises and things that oxygenate the water, grasses around it and insect-attracting plants to make this little corner a wildlife haven. My Beloved and I spent the next hour delving into wildlife ponds (starting here) and discovered that you only need a pump if there’s fish – who are apex predators in the pond, and eat all the other things – or if you’re having a fountain. Wildlife ponds don’t need them, but they do like oxygenating plants which also provide cover for tiny wildlife. If we did have a pump it would need a filter to prevent the tadpoles and froglets being sucked up and mangled.

Islington has the lowest amount of green space per person of all the London boroughs, and increasingly where green space is being planted it isn’t publicly accessible. When teachers were consulted waaayyy back in 2023 they wanted to be able to come to the site to explore biodiversity and bringing water back onto the site will be key to attracting wildlife. The site’s history is inextricably linked with the history of water in London, too, so a pond makes sense. Hopefully the pond-in-my-head will become reality, complete with frogs…

Things making me happy this week

  • Coffee with Brian and Anhar from London Museum on Tuesday morning.
  • A catch-up with Cath on Wednesday evening in the local pub, where my existence was met with ‘what are YOU doing in here?’ from my daughter
  • An exciting meeting with Apple at their Battersea offices, which they described as ‘joyful’ and said my creative activity was ‘supercool’ and that they were going to try it with their kids. I’m not sure they’d seen paper and pencils for a while…
  • …and the trip back to the office was on the Uberboat to Bankside, with a walk back via St Paul’s and St Bartholomew the Great
  • I made a start on a new spiderweb scarf using the gorgeous yarn I bought last week at the Wool Show, made a pair of dragonscale mittens for my colleague’s birthday as she feels the cold, and started a hexi cardi with yarn from the stash.
  • Sunday at the Waltham Abbey Wool Show with Heather, where we squished a lot of yarn and I was quite well-behaved. When I got back I got all my skeins out of the stash and turned them into balls so I have no excuse not to use them – thank heavens for the winder and swift gadgets!
  • Open Day at Waltham Forest College with Thing 2, where she hopes to go in September
  • Impressing Thing 2 with my excellent French accent when she made me try on a beret. Well, who doesn’t do ‘Allo ‘Allo impressions under those circumstances? I am, apparently, ridiculous.

That seems to have been quite a good week, I think! Let’s see how this one shapes up…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Explosive Eighteen/Notorious Nineteen/Takedown Twenty/Top-secret Twenty-One/Tricky Twenty-Two – Janet Evanovich

Men At Arms – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

American Demon – Kim Harrison

253: whose voice is it anyway?

On Monday afternoon I had one of those newfangled online chats with Claire Adler, a heritage, culture and community consultant who – a long time ago when she was still at Hackney Museum and I was still a teacher – was the person who got me involved in museum learning through a teacher focus group. A few months ago she posted on LinkedIn about the idea of ‘capable environments’, which are those where everyone can thrive. You can read more about them here. As I may have mentioned once or twice, my current job is at a small arts charity which is in the process of building a new home in the heart of Islington, and we are committed to being radically inclusive, and a place of belonging and welcome for everyone.

This is a big ambition for a small organisation, but one we’re passionate about and we dedicate significant time to looking at what we’re doing through the lens of access and inclusion. I spend a lot of time talking to other organisations, and to people who may not have ‘a visit to a gallery’ on their to-do list, and for whom cultural activity comes quite a long way down the list of priorities for a whole range of reasons. This is particularly so while we’re still mired in the depths of the cost-of-living crisis. Even a ‘free’ venue has things that need to be negotiated, especially when you have children who can spot a museum shop or cafe a mile off.

Cultural confidence is another blocker: is this a place for me? Will people know I’ve never been to a gallery before? What do I do while I’m there? Will there be ‘people like me’ there too? Can I take my own lunch? Is there a prayer room/quiet space/changing places toilet? What happens if my son/daughter/family member has a meltdown? For so many people, a spur-of-the-moment visit isn’t an option, and this is doubly so if it’s out of the comfort zone or a new place.

Physical access is another concern. We’re in an extremely fortunate position in that we’re not redeveloping an existing museum or gallery but rather bringing a derelict building back into use and so have a pretty blank slate when it comes to designing out any barriers that prevent access. Bolting on mitigations after the fact is always harder, especially in historic buildings. There’s lots of handy regulations and information out there to help you, too, and consultants who’ll assess your site, your offer and so on.

But…. if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past seven years of co-design, co-creation, co-production, co-curation and conversation (isn’t that a nicer word than ‘consultation’?) it’s that you can read up all you like, you can bring your own experience to bear and that of those you care for and spend time with (‘lived’ experience and ‘loved’ experience, as it was described in a webinar I attended not long ago) but there’s no substitute for going out there and asking the people who you hope will become your core audience and the best future advocates for your site.

Obviously you can’t recruit a representative of every single group of people to sit on an ‘access panel’ and (since we believe in paying people for their time) we definitely can’t afford to. So how do we ensure that people and their needs are not only represented but included in what we’re doing? Particularly as including specific groups of people automatically excludes others, which is the opposite of what we’re going to do with the Centre.

First, we’re taking the Social Model of Disability as our starting point, and working from the principle that removing barriers and considering people’s needs before we build makes things better for everyone – for example, if you’re hanging an exhibition consider who needs to see the images before you put them up rather than having to provide ramps or steps after you’ve opened. Trust people to know what they need, and be open to hearing them. When we committed to co-creation at Young V&A we spent a lot of time considering what this meant in practice, and what it meant in the end was that everything we thought we knew – as people who had been children at some point – was wrong, so we needed to throw preconceptions out of the window and be open to being guided by the participants. I called it ’embracing the chaos’ and some of those projects were absolutely chaotic but truly joyous and mind-opening experiences. I still have the odd conversation where people want an idea of what the outcome of a co-project will be, but I remain committed to genuine co-ness. It would be easier if I could say ‘yeah, it’ll be x or y’ but that’s imposing our wants on people and not being guided by theirs.

Admitting you don’t know everything when you’re supposed to be the experts is quite hard – but people of all ages are the experts in their own lives, and doubly so when you consider intersectionality as well.

And this is where conversation comes in, of course – chatty, informal moments as part of other events such as our play activities over the summer where one of the questions we asked was what would help them to visit as families. We’d made it explicit when we recruited families that everyone was welcome, and considered their needs when we planned events. As guided by the social model rather than the medical model, we asked what they needed to make their visits easier rather than asking for unnecessary medical information. Someone telling me they have a diagnosis of this or that is meaningless, but telling me that their visit can be made easier with ear defenders, a well-signposted accessible toilet, a quiet room, step-free access etc – that’s helpful, non-intrusive and ensuring these and other facilities and equipment are freely available and that this information is easily found on a website benefits everyone.

Working with organisations like Euan’s Guide and looking to people like the accessible museum award-winning Barnsley Museums is also good practice – and one of the best things about museum and galleries and the people who work in them is that as a general rule we love talking about what we do to other people so there’s lots of advice available about how to do things well. Yes, it would be quicker if we didn’t talk to people about everything from physical access through to exhibitions via signage, play, learning programmes and what people want to do when they’re through the doors, but how can we be radically inclusive and representative of all our visitors, staff and volunteers if we’re selective about the voices we hear and the people at the metaphorical table?

My vision as Head of Learning and Participation is that when we open the doors we’ll be somewhere that’s part of people’s daily routine: on the way home from school families stop in to spend time in the gardens or trying their hand at whatever’s on offer in the creative space; that we’re the go-to for somewhere to go on a rainy day; that teens come and hang out with us because they know they’re welcome; that we get to know our locals by name. Last week’s inspiring talk by Amy Akino-Wittering at Young V&A about their successful and radically inclusive front-of-house recruitment process will hopefully guide our own process later in the year. Watch this space….

Things making me happy this week

  • Interesting inclusive faith training on Thursday
  • 12k walk on Saturday morning
  • A great meeting with someone about a project related to one of my favourite writers
  • Bumping into Jill at St Paul’s though I was unable to convince her to sack off her meeting and head home with me instead!
  • A visit to talk to the team at Langley Academy, where museum learning is built into the curriculum…
  • …which meant I got to stay overnight with London sister and have coffee with my Eton buddy
  • A visit to Lift Youth Hub to meet the team and envy their views over London
  • Coffee with Miriam on Saturday afternoon

Today I am off to Waltham Abbey Wool Show with Heather for a day of squishing and possibly sniffing yarn.

Same time next week then!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Fearless Fourteen/Finger-Licking Fifteen/Sizzling Sixteen/Smoking Seventeen – Janet Evanovich

My Animals and Other Animals – Bill Bailey

Million Dollar Demon – Kim Harrison

Guards! Guards!/Men At Arms – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

252: what have I done for you lately?

One of the least fun things about any job these days is the performance management process, or at least the annual review bit of it. Don’t get me wrong – I have a lovely line manager, I work with a great team on a fantastic project and I’ve loved every job I’ve had in the sector, even in the tough times – and I tend to assume that if I’m doing anything disastrously wrong someone would have mentioned it. Still, every year I have several sleepless nights before the meeting and feel a terrible sense of impending doom.

For years in a previous role these reviews were a meaningless process, as I was on a spot salary so didn’t get any annual pay rises anyway. The year I did brilliantly, writing a unit for the London Curriculum and being learning advocate on a blockbuster exhibition, they actually took away the unconsolidated rise from the previous two years and gave me a 3.5% pay cut as no one was getting a rise that year. The letter telling me this was waiting for me when I got home from the glowing review meeting. It was also understood that only the people at the main site could get the coveted ‘purple’ grade – which I wasn’t. (For some reason it took this organisation a couple of years to get the Investors in People badge – can’t think why). Another year, they increased my targets by 28% and cut my budget by 32%, so we were set up to fail by a director who refused to listen to what was actually possible (think Boris Johnson in a badly fitting skirt). That director – not the team, the line manager or the job – was why I left that role.

So why, every year, do I spend several nights pre-meeting wide awake and tossing and turning with stress-related insomnia? It’s a complete mystery but I suspect its quite similar to that feeling of guilt you get when you see a policeman even though you know for a fact that you haven’t committed any crimes. Perhaps there’s something they know that you don’t, and they’re waiting to spring it on you. Perhaps there was a target no one mentioned to you and you haven’t met it as you didn’t know it was there. Paranoid? Moi?

My current job is in a small arts organisation (with big ideas) which is headed by actual humans so the review was very straightforward and positive and helpful and I still have a job. Which is nice.

I’m not sure what can really be done to improve this, really: we’re all held accountable to various standards and there has to be some way of measuring this. I think I should just be grateful that the kids haven’t cottoned onto SMART targets yet – they might start asking me to stop burning dinner or putting mushrooms in it, leave fewer random scraps of fabric and thread about the place and rationalise my books and shoes.

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

Other things making me happy this week

  • The Families in Museums Network meeting at Young V&A this week. Slightly linked to the above – where the amazing Ops team made the Front of House recruitment process radically inclusive and considerably less stressful for the applicants. However, it did make me feel that I’ve been knocking about this sector for a very long time…
  • Finishing my portable crochet project in time for the cold snap. It’s made of alpaca and it’s snuggly and soft. I’ve also made some progress on the blanket.
  • Choosing fabrics from the stash and a pattern for a quilt project (though not the one I’d been planning. Go figure, eh?) with puffins on. Here’s the ones I started with,, though not all have made the final cut. Some of them are sparkly.
  • Central heating – it was -7 this morning. Lulu appreciates it, I think.
  • Thermal socks, and cats who double as hot water bottles.

Today we’re off for an icy swim (water temp was 1.5 degrees on Saturday – considerably warmer than the air though!) and wondering why we do this to ourselves. Wonder if I can take a cat with me to keep my clothes warm?

See you next week, when I’ve defrosted…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Ten Big Ones/Eleven on Top/Twelve Sharp/Lean Mean Thirteen/Fearless Fourteen – Janet Evanovich

My Animals and Other Animals – Bill Bailey

Guards! Guards! – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

251: learning from experience

I think, if nothing else, the past fifty odd years of my life have proved that New Year’s resolutions are a bit of a waste of time, so having got that thinking out of the way I can get on with 2025 in my usual fashion – doing as I would be done by, trying not to eat too much cake, making a dent in the contents of the sheds and not being too lazy. This all seems doable. As I mentioned last week I have signed up to an event in March, so need to train for that – I love to walk but am essentially lazy so need a target to aim at. As Tan said about me in 2023, wind her up and point her in the right direction and she’ll just keep going.

Of course, there is still a lot of cake left but will try and ration my consumption….

This week was New Year’s Eve and as has become the tradition over the past ten years or so we spent it with our village gang of friends. Our plan was to go early, spend an hour or so and then come home when the grandbaby we were looking after for the night started getting grumpy. What we hadn’t reckoned with was Mason’s night owl habits – he was having a whale of a time dancing, playing with balloons, being cute at people, eating party food and so on. We eventually wrestled him back into the buggy at 1am, much to his disgust, and marched him home to bed.

I was on night duty with him, sleeping on the couch next to his travel cot, and I am clearly out of practice at this, since my lot are all in their teens – I woke at every snuffle and hiccup and by the time his mama rolled in at 8am with Thing 1 after they’d been out to a rave I was very ready for my bed! Mason, on the other hand, woke up at 6.30am, promptly stole my pillow and blanket while I was warming up some milk for him and went back to sleep leaving me no space at all. Needless to say I spent a lot of New Years Day in bed. Still, as I may have mentioned before, there is nothing quite as snuggly as an armful of warm sleepy baby – at least until your arm goes dead.

I don’t think Lulu is quite as fond of overnighting babies – she’s been quite mad this week, but she’s now got a new tower to play with. Toddlers are big fans of cats but the feeling is not mutual…

SERIOUSLY? Did you do the wine test?

Apparently the Uniqlo round mini bag has been going viral recently for being lightweight, washable, handy for travel and being able (according to my sister) to fit an entire bottle of wine inside which I can see would be very useful. The social media reviews tend to talk about 500ml water bottles, but she has her priorities, OK?

The Uniqlo one comes in a quilted option, a corduroy option, as a lined version with a sporty strap, and in a whole variety of colours. Tan had bought the black version and kindly demonstrated the booze-holding capacity at the Christmas market in Ealing – I’d already been looking at the red version while shopping on Black Friday but hadn’t bought it as it wasn’t yellow. I like yellow when it comes to bags. When I was buying my parents’ Christmas presents I gave in to the red one as it was still on sale – obviously it still wasn’t yellow but I found a pattern on Etsy for a dupe and spent a couple of days between Christmas and New Year making a couple in different colours.

The pattern was easy to follow (all mistakes were my own, like getting one of the lining panels the wrong way up!) and the outcome was the same size as the Uniqlo original. This pattern has a zippy pocket on the inside which was surprisingly easy to install, two small side panel pockets and a main space which does – just about – fit the bottle of wine in the same way that the Uniqlo one does. All the fabric and zips came from my stash – a remnants bundle of waxed cotton provided the outer fabrics, and some quilting cotton featuring lucky cats and a comic book print from the V&A sample sale a couple of years ago came in handy for the lining.

I did need to buy the hardware as I wanted an adjustable strap but if you always wear your bags the same length you can make it without these bits. You could also make it without the zippy pocket if you were after a quick gift for someone. I happen to have a lot of waxed cotton so can see me making more of these (get your requests in now, people! I have various colours (not purple or teal, sorry M)). I tested it out on my commute on Thursday and it fits my phone, glasses case, earphone pouch easily but not my current portable project but that’s because I didn’t try and squash it in.

Things making me happy this week

  • The possibility of snow, though I fear I will be let down by Essex weather again
  • Siestas with warm cats as winter is finally biting (see point 1)
  • The microwavable boots I had for Christmas I had from the TTS (see point 2)
  • Quiet day in the office on Thursday where NO ONE was asking me to do stuff. I can be forgiven for being late to both Teams meetings, yes? What were all these other people doing working?
  • Putting Christmas away tidily till next year
  • Home made orange, cinnamon and cranberry bread in the bread maker
  • Finally mastering Yorkshire puddings
  • This is England – I didn’t pay any attention the first time round but am really enjoying it
  • Wallace and Grommit – Vengeance Most Fowl – No Parkin! on the Yorkshire border side made me laugh out loud
  • A rainbow of fat quarters for a quilting project just awaiting the purple shades before I can start planning
  • Quilting this nine-patch ready for backing. I *think* it’s a Riley Blake fabric but it may also be Moda. It’s got stars on and it was charm packs.

With any luck the lake will be frozen tomorrow so we can pretend we’re orcas or polar bears or something – a good ice swim always makes us feel like superwomen!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

High Five/Hot Six/Seven Up/Hard Eight/To The Nines – Janet Evanovich

BBC Dramatisations of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels (Audible)

A wide range of quilt books in search of inspiration!