Welcome everyone!
This week I thought I would take you on a learning journey. And no, this isn’t a course curriculum wrapped into a blog. Instead, it is a rendering of some of my personal learning journey that I hope you might enjoy. Perhaps you can take away a thing or two that you can adapt for your own explorations.
So, grab your favorite beverage, put on the fuzzy slippers, and settle into that comfy chair.
It’s time for Postal History Sunday!
There it is. My postal history exhibit as it looked at the Great American Stamp Show in 2021. Well, this is the first sixteen pages of it - there were eighty more pages beyond these that comprised the whole story I had built up over many years of work.
The exhibit was in Chicago as part of the “Champion of Champions” national competition with other exhibits that had won the “Grand” award in other accredited shows. Every exhibit in this group had received the top award elsewhere (mine was in Omaha in 2019), so the competition was stiff. Only one exhibit was going to go home with the big prize. Everyone else was going to be in “second place.”
I got second place.
And I wasn’t at all unhappy with that.
It begins with exposure to an activity
It was the mid-nineties and I was just starting to get a bit more comfortable with events called “stamp shows,” where people could go and buy stamps and postal history for their collections. As a collector, the idea of adding to my own collection drew me in with little convincing.
Most shows were just bourses (dealers selling collectibles), but some of the larger ones included other activities, including rows and rows of exhibits. For those of you who read Postal History Sunday and do NOT know what an exhibit is, let me try to explain:
Each exhibit shows material that explores a theme or topic area - like early air mail service in the US, or how mail got in and out of Paris during the siege of 1870-71. These exhibits are judged based on how well the exhibit explains the selected topic area by using artifacts (e.g. stamps and covers) as the focus point. They are also judged by the quality of the items used to illustrate the story.
I remember that I would walk through those rows of exhibits and enjoy viewing things I had never seen before. But, I knew so little about most of the material and next to nothing about exhibiting. I have to admit that I didn’t really appreciate much of what I saw.
The idea of being able to actively share the hobby with others appealed to me even then. Yet I was pretty sure that I’d never participate. This activity was for others who knew more and who had covers and stamps that were far more expensive than I could ever hope to acquire.
They were another breed of people. And I was never going to be one of them.
Important journeys often have humble beginnings
Then, I read somewhere that single frame (16 pages) exhibits were being promoted as an opportunity for new exhibitors to try this activity. That certainly appealed to me. After all, if I was putting my effort next to other people’s learning attempts, I might not feel so out of place.
Think of it this way. Without a “novice division” in exhibiting, it felt a lot like stepping on to a Major League Baseball diamond with MLB players to show what you could do. But, you’d never played baseball before in your life.
So here was this opportunity to try a new thing in a space where it should be understood that I was just trying to figure out how to do this. I read what I could to prepare. But, I had little to no understanding of what I was getting myself into. And, I didn’t have much experience with how to mount items onto pages, so I just did the best I could with what I had.
Today, I can barely look at some of the scans of the pages from that exhibit without cringing. There are errors of fact in some of the write-up. The clear cover holders attached to the paper with tape don’t do much to make things look attractive. Even the paper color is mildly cringe-worthy.
Regardless, I enjoyed the process of building the exhibit and sharing my efforts at a show and I was eager to learn more and do more.
On the cusp of giving up
Unfortunately, there really wasn’t an official “novice” category in exhibiting - despite how the single frame exhibit idea was promoted. And, unless you were the sort of person who would actively seek out mentorship, there wasn’t much in place to help a person on this journey. So, it probably would not surprise you that my second attempt - when I tried out showing THREE frames (48 pages) - was a disappointing experience.
I really did feel like the person who hadn’t played much baseball and was now walking onto the field to hit against one of baseball’s best pitchers. Well, let’s be honest here. I’ve played a fair amount of baseball and I’d be easily overwhelmed by any Major League pitcher (though it hurts my pride to say that).
That’s a good approximation of how I felt this time around.
While I was disappointed with the results of my second try, it did not take long for me to realize that the judges were, if anything, entirely too lenient with my efforts. I know now that it was not a good exhibit. And it might have been better for them to acknowledge that so we could move to the appropriate learning steps.
One judge did their level best to try to encourage me to develop an exhibit that had a purpose and focus that made sense to everyone, not just myself. But most of the feedback was based on the presumption that I wanted to know how to make the exhibit more competitive - and on the assumption that I knew more than I did. At this stage, I needed to be encouraged to accumulate knowledge.
I needed encouragement to use this exhibiting project as a learning journey.
My own experience up to this point in my exhibiting career is an excellent argument for a novice or “learning” group in ANY activity. People need to be able show their learning progress and receive feedback for their work with less expectation for competitive results. It just might encourage more individuals to participate.
After this second attempt, I left feeling a bit disappointed and uncertain as to how to proceed. The judge who had spent some time with me had been kind enough, but there just didn’t seem to be enough understanding that I could use a little more guidance and support.
Well… I did NOT give up. Instead, I thought about the first piece of advice that made sense - give the exhibit purpose. And, because I love learning, I applied myself to do just that. But, it was a near thing. I was very close to moving on to other things to do with my time.
Over-sharing on the learning journey
I am a life-long learner who also happens to be an educator. It just so happens that this combination of personal characteristics gave me what I needed to move forward.
I know that the best way for me to learn is to attempt to explain what I am learning to others. It may not be comfortable - but the best learning is often partially a result of discomfort. And that’s probably the only reason I came back for more in 2002.
My next effort at exhibiting featured pages crowded with lots and lots - and lots - of words. I was excited by what I was discovering and I wanted to share those discoveries with others. How could the rest of the world NOT be as interested as I was in all of “the things?”
Seriously. How could you not?
The issue here has to do with the level of “buy-in” a person has for any given thing. As the creator of the exhibit, my “buy-in” was extremely high. I was committed to learning what I could about the topic area and I was intent on seeing the learning and assembling process through. I forgot that most people would approach my exhibit with only a casual interest.
The exception to this, of course, were the judges. They were committed to viewing EVERY exhibit on the floor, which is a daunting task. They had to have a bit more interest because it was something they agreed to do. But it certainly wasn’t because they were as interested in my topic as I was.
I had made the assumption that everyone must automatically be interested because….
Well, because I was interested.
And I learned that’s not good enough. I had to find a way to encourage these audiences to become interested in what interested me.
Feedback propels you forward
The biggest lesson I have learned, and made my own, is that building a postal history exhibit is a communications problem. And, if this is a communications problem, I have to determine who my audience(s) are.
But, even more important, if I wanted to succeed in communications, I had to improve my own listening skills.
The judging audiences at these shows assess how good and how effective each exhibit is. Often, the feedback I received from them felt like they were off-base and it was tempting to just ignore their words. But then, I realized that if I felt their assessment was incorrect, it could be because I had not effectively communicated what I was doing to them.
It wasn’t because they were bad at what they were doing. It was because I wasn’t good enough at telling them what I was trying to do.
I learned that I did not have to agree with each comment, nor did I have to accept the changes that were suggested to me. But, it was important to consider every piece of feedback and determine whether there was a better way to accomplish what I was doing.
Or, heaven forbit, maybe they were right. Maybe there was a better way to accomplish my goals.
My other audience was, frankly, people like “1996 me.” Individuals who were inclined to find these old envelopes and postage stamps to be interesting, even though their experience level with them was minimal. I wanted them to enjoy the exhibit too, so I had to figure out how to invite them to stop and look.
So, I watched where these people stopped as they strolled through the frames at stamp shows. And they often liked things that looked more like this:
They liked fewer words. They appreciated additional images, like maps. And they took delight in extra historical facts - like the Corisco Mission information at the bottom of the page.
I also wanted to be sure that these people could get enough clues on each page that would explain to them why this cover was even in my exhibit in the first place. I recall distinctly that “1996 me” was unsure why many (actually most) items were being shown. There are often too many assumptions about the knowledge of the viewer.
It’s a continuous battle to remind myself that nearly all of my audience does not approach the page with all of the information I have at my disposal. If I want them to enjoy what I am sharing, I have to invite them in by giving them something they can relate to - something that makes sense to them.
The journey continues
As is the case with every learning journey, there are times when you wonder if you have come to a point where it is complete. Maybe not perfectly complete, but complete enough for who you are and what you are willing to do. I actually came to that point in 2017 or 2018. I thought that maybe it was time to move to a new learning project and close this one up.
It wasn’t that I thought I couldn’t do more and learn more. It was more a question of whether there would be opportunity to do just that. I thought it might be more fulfilling to explore something new to me.
So, I did just that.
I started looking at postal history from the same time period (1860s), but from different parts of the world. I was able to find inexpensive things that encouraged me to learn more and explore more.
And I rediscovered my joy for learning about history and postal history.
And I started playing with different ways to show these items on a page that I thought was fun and attractive.
And I realized that I was actually learning more things that applied to my original exhibit topic area - even though that was not my original intent.
Which brings us back to the beginning of this blog and a “2nd place” appearance for the exhibit.
The rejuvenation that came with exploring postal history more broadly resulted in two things.
I reworked the original exhibit once more - and I won a grand with it in Omaha in 2019. Which qualified me for the Champion of Champions.
I began to have more interest in writing about the things I have been learning. Which, in turn, brought about Postal History Sunday. There have been one hundred and eighty-three of them now.
The learning journey did not come to a point of completion. Instead, it evolved into a broader journey, with more possible destinations. And as a person who loves learning, and who loves facilitating the learning of others, it can’t get much better than that.
Additional Reading
Thank you for joining me today for Postal History Sunday. I hope you have a good remainder of your day and a fine week to come!
If you haven’t had enough, here are some additional related entries you might enjoy:
Display - PH #153
Showing Off - PH #52
How You Slice It - PH #66
Postal History Sunday is featured weekly on this Substack publication. If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with the most recent publication. Some Postal History Sunday publications may also be found under my profile at Medium, if you have interest.
Great story! Very insightful as I've been thinking myself about exhibiting! All was very much appreciated. Love what you do. Wish I had your references!
Thank you for the story of telling a story. Learning new things as an adult can be discouraging and frustrating, I'm glad your curiosity was piqued again.