Historically Speaking: The best part of my job

By Jessica Gorman

Yesterday afternoon, as I finished my work day, I couldn’t help but think to myself that the best part of my job is all of you. 

There are several of you who come by to visit. You always apologize for taking too much of my time. Yes, there is a lot to do but the deadlines are never missed. The stuff will get done and there will always be more to do, but it will get done. I appreciate those of you who sometimes stop in just to check on me. I love to hear your stories, or answer your questions, and especially enjoy discussing whatever topic you are interested in.

Some of you I hear from more frequently by text or email or Messenger. I love to hear about your research projects and greatly appreciate when you say, “Hey, I ran across this,” or, “I just remembered that.” It’s good to have people to bounce thoughts and questions off of because you also have experience digging for information. 

I enjoy reading your comments on our Facebook posts, especially when you share your memories of days gone by and we get that little glimpse into a moment in the past.

Nothing is more satisfying than when I can help connect you to a photo, a record, a piece of information. Nothing is more disappointing than when I can’t, but I really do keep a running log in my head with the hopes that I will run across something I can send to you. 

Last year really took it out of me. As exciting as our expansion was, it was also stressful. There were other things that I was trying to tackle behind the scenes, not to mention taking on the cemetery. By the end of the year, I was in the throes of a second round of burnout. If you’ve ever experienced it, you are all too familiar with the exhaustion, both mental and emotion. You’ve felt the inability to focus, the loss of motivation, and feeling as though you are just going through the motions. Early in the year, there was a period of intense financial strain followed by increased insurance cost and loss of a grant. In spite of everything, I knew that challenges aren’t always bad, setbacks can lead to reassessment, and, if nothing else, it serves as a good reminder that all we can do is walk by faith and listen to wherever it is we’re supposed to go next.

When I made it public that we had taken that pretty significant financial hit, several of you immediately stepped up to help meet that need. When I was asked, “What are we going to do?” my honest answer was, “I don’t know right now, but it’s going to be okay.” Even as the full weight of that burden was being felt, your concern and your help renewed my faith that was true. It also reinforced what I already knew. You are what steers our museum forward. 

In the midst of everything, fulfilling requests for photos, helping with projects, visiting with you at events, hearing about your own research and what matters to you are the things that have kept me going. I care about what you care about. That has led me to finally set some boundaries that I had not set before because it felt selfish even when I knew it wasn’t. I have to spend my time more deliberately, for you. I cannot continue to chase after support where it continues to be withheld and then not have the capacity for the things that matter to you. Not everyone will understand and that’s okay.

Previous museum director, Schelley Francis, said earlier this week that, in a way, it feels like the museum is starting over. In a sense, I realize that is the same feeling I’ve had for the past several months. So many of those original hardcore museum supporters, the people who made this museum possible, have passed on. What once drew a crowd, doesn’t necessarily do that anymore, but worrying about drawing a crowd, popularity, acceptance are mostly distraction from what matters. I know that I have to focus on the things that accomplish our mission and the things that sustain it. The way forward is to prioritize what builds real value, to focus on who does show up and not worry about who doesn’t. 

Thank you for your stories, your care, your questions, your help, your curiosity, your generosity, your concern, your attendance, and even just for taking the time to read this column. Please never hesitate to let me know how I can help because that really is the best part of my job.

(Jessica Gorman is Executive Director of the Dorcheat Historical Association Museum, Webster Parish Historian, President of the Minden Cemetery Association, and an avid genealogist.)