I am unsure what I expected from my work placement as I headed to the Museum of Brands for my first day. Regardless, I can say that my experience surprised me, although my tasks were often predictable. I was simultaneously taken down a peg and built up by this brush with the realities of working life.

After searching for a placement provider, I was grateful for this opportunity, but regretful that I had not secured a placement in an art gallery or other museum more aligned with my interests. I began the placement under the assumption that I would not be deeply engaged by the museum’s collection. Its astounding scale and detail, however, extinguished my doubts. My first morning involved an exploration of the museum’s “Time Tunnel”, which documents consumer culture through the history of packaging and advertising, dating back to the Victorian era. It swallowed me whole, and I was mesmerised by its power to transport visitors into other lives through humble household objects. My anxiety that I might lose track of time and spend longer than I should on this activity was perhaps the most stressful part of the day. I learnt that a relatively “ordinary” collection is what sets it apart on London’s crowded museum stage. It does not talk down to visitors, but the collection’s familiarity brings it closer to visitors than the highbrow institutions which were my first preference for a placement. 

The Museum of Brands itself is very supportive towards volunteers – warm, open communication is clearly key to its operation. I am grateful that my placement supervisors and daily duty managers made me feel comfortable expressing whether I would prefer to try different tasks in order for the experience to be more valuable to me. I not sure that all organisations – particularly those on this museum’s small scale with more strained resources – would be as proactive in creating a mutually beneficial arrangement. This was especially helpful to me, as someone wary of disappointing others. After wading through database research for some weeks, I managed to voice my concerns about working solely on administration. An amicable conversation with my duty manager was all it took to gain hands-on experience with the museum’s collection, assisting with cleaning and conservation. I was grateful for this change, and for my new understanding of the need to speak up, though surprised that expressing my wishes was so effective. It seems I had to reap the benefits of clear communication for its importance to get through to me.

As much as this experience has taught me about the museum sector, I think I have learnt more about what it means to be a cog in an organisational machine. The beginning of any new role naturally involves growing pains, as one adjusts to a new environment and position. The role of volunteer is unique in that volunteers are valued by museums, without being dependent upon them for income. This arguably offers more freedom to judge decisions made by the organisation, though a volunteer’s influence is obviously limited. It also took some time to determine the level of efficiency expected of me; I was sometimes tempted to work sluggishly, aware my labour was unpaid, but at times became overly concerned that I might disappoint the team. I am very grateful for the support I received whilst finding my feet, without surrendering a slightly detached perspective on what it means to work for a museum.

Looking back, my overall feeling towards the placement is one of deep satisfaction. This is not because I feel I excelled as a volunteer, though I did my best. Nor would I consider this a commercial transaction which afforded me some due reward. Rather, I feel satisfied that I was able to experience a workplace which both challenged my beliefs, and reaffirmed my basic values.

The experience highlighted my tendency to become close-minded once I think I know my opinion on a certain matter. For example, my initial lack of excitement to volunteer there created the assumption that I would find others at the museum similarly disenchanted (a self-centred perspective, I know). Yet the process of interviewing staff and volunteers for my placement project, which investigated their attitudes to working in this field, revealed steadfast faith in the power of museums to positively impact society. This conviction bled into their professional lives in that it gave them a sense of purpose – a “through-line”, to quote one employee – which gave meaning to the less engaging aspects of their work. I was ready to assume that too much time spent on spreadsheets had dimmed the magic of connecting modern audiences with the past. This, I admit, was my experience. Luckily, I was proven wrong. This has deepened my awareness of the need to look outside of myself and to practise actively listening to others, especially when trying to gauge general attitudes to an issue. I know it sounds ridiculous to frame this as some kind of revelation, but after these interviews, I was taken aback by how much I had allowed my biases to dictate what I perceived to be the opinions of others. It has also helped me to accept that working in a museum might not be my calling, but it remains deeply fulfilling for the right person. 

I found the experience reassuring too, as it gently reminded me that the simplest answers are often the best. Trite as it sounds, I found that the issues over which I worried most were whose solutions I already knew. I stewed over whether to request an alternative to database research tasks, and found once I finally asked that my supervisor was more than happy to help. Many members of staff, when interviewed, expressed their desire to learn to trust themselves more in their working lives. I aspire to the same, as a student and a future employee.