44 Madison Sims – Curating Connection, Preserving Truth

Madison Sims (She/Her) is a Sophomore from Richmond, IN majoring in General Studies, but her heart is in her minor of Anthropology. Due to this, Madison will be transferring in the fall where she will major in Anthropology and minor in Museum Studies. This work was prepared for Thomas Mackie’s US History and Museum Methods, who states, “Madison made great connections with the use of objects and the study of the past. As she is already working at a museum, she has a more advanced understanding of the content. Madison utilized good writing while integrating current work with the writings in museum studies and US History.”

Curating Connection, Preserving Truth

Introduction

There is a particular stillness that lives within a museum. A quiet intimacy with what it means to be human. What it means to observe and feel and recognize the passage of time and how every moment in history led up to the very moment being lived. It settles in the slow footsteps across the gallery floors, in the soft murmurs of curiosity, and in the pause one takes before a quiet echo of the past beings to somehow feel personal.

During my time working as the Education & Museum Coordinator at the Model T Museum, I have come to recognize this presence not only in the objects we preserve but also in the people who come to encounter them. Some visitors arrive with carefully curated lists, eager to check off another stop, while others wander in by chance, drawn by a roadside sign and leaving with a newfound curiosity. In a museum, strangers become storytellers, grandparents become historians, and, for a moment, the noise of the outside world fades.

We live in an age increasingly defined by algorithms, digital overload, and widespread misinformation. Museums remain among the last spaces that demand and reward our full attention and presence. They offer not just knowledge but grounding, connection through time, through truth, and through the shared human need to understand where we have come from. Though often underestimated, museums have played essential roles throughout history, from aiding war efforts during WWII to serving as trusted keepers of fact in a present era of doubt.

This paper will explore the enduring relevance of museums in both historical and modern contexts. Through a blend of both reflection and analysis, I aim to illuminate their overlooked power as places of presence, defenders of truth, and as a vital bridge between understanding who we were and who we might become.

Museums as Spaces of Human Connection

In a society heavily shaped by instant access, digital algorithms, and the illusion of endless connectivity, true human presence has become increasingly rare. Rates of social anxiety have surged in recent years, particularly among young people. According to a 2024 study published by The Journal of Prevention, social anxiety disorder is now one of the most diagnosed anxiety disorders, with rates continuing to climb in the post-pandemic world. Many people now experience heightened discomfort in unfamiliar settings or when engaging face to face.

Museums, however, offer a quiet antidote to this discomfort. They ask nothing of us but our attention, inviting us to slow down, to look closely, and to be fully present, not just with objects but within one another. For those of us who work within a museum, part of cultivating a memorable experience means doing much more than curating exhibits. It means curating connection.

In my own role at the Model T Museum, I have learned that asking the right questions, noticing body language, and gently offering conversation can change an entire visit. A guest who initially lingers near the back with uncertainty might leave feeling like the space was designed just for them. It is about creating a moment of safety and welcome for those who may struggle to find that in the fast-paced world we live in.

Beyond interpersonal connection, museums offer a bridge between generations. Visitors encounter the lives, tools, and traditions of those who came before them. In doing so, they are reminded that history is not distant or abstract, but the foundation of the present. A museum fosters empathy by encouraging us to see through the eyes of others, past and present. They remind us that we are part of a larger, ongoing story.

In an age of curated digital identities and constant distraction, the quiet, intentional presence that museums require is both radical and necessary. They do not demand performance or perfection. They leave room for interpretation and different patterns of understanding. They simply ask that we show up—with curiosity, openness, and a willingness to be moved.

Museums in a Time of Crisis

While museums are often seen as static spaces rooted in the past, history tells us a different story. During times of crisis, they have demonstrated resilience, adaptability, and even heroism. One of the most striking examples was brought to my attention through Samual J. Redman’s book The Museum. During World War II, museums across Europe and the United States became key players not only in the protection of cultural heritage and shared identity, but also in aiding efforts to win the war.

As bombs fell and front lines shifted, curators and archivists risked their lives to safeguard some of humanities’ most cherished artifacts. In the United States, museum professionals contributed to the formation of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program—better known as the Monuments Men. This group, composed of museum directors, curators, and art historians, recovered millions of stolen artworks and preserved cultural legacies under threat from fascist regimes.

I have found one of the most compelling contributions during the second World War to be from the Smithsonian Institute. Often overlooked by many mainstream accounts, the Smithsonian played a vital role in supporting the U.S. war effort. Drawing on its collections, it offered access to German equipment for technological analysis and shared artifacts from Inuit cultures to improve military strategy for survival in cold climates. The institution even created a dedicated war committee to work directly with the Navy and War Departments, lending the expertise of its top geographical and scientific minds.

What makes this work even more remarkable is that, despite these extensive wartime efforts, the Smithsonian remained open to the public. It continued its educational endeavors through war-themed exhibits, updating new displays, and accessible programming. These efforts helped to bridge the divide between the military front and the home front.

Especially in moments of crisis, museum staff often come to understand that their work extends far beyond their institutions. They are not merely protecting objects and archives, but protecting the memory, identity, and continuity of culture. The quiet bravery of museum professionals in wartime, as well as other moments of crisis, whether it be natural disasters or political upheaval, reveals a profound truth: when the world is in chaos, museums hold the line not only for what was, but for what must be remembered.

Museums as Defenders of the Truth

We live in a time that is dominated by information overload, deepfakes, algorithmic echo chambers, and the rapid spread of misinformation. The role of museums as reliable sources of truth has never been more important. While the internet offers instant access to a fountain of knowledge, there are times when we can’t see the poison that we are drinking. False narratives, historical revisionism, and manipulated media circulate freely, making it increasingly difficult for the public to distinguish between fact and fabrication. Where the digital world blurs the line between what is fact and what is fiction, museums remain places where truth is to be handled with white cotton gloves.

Rooted in rigorous research, peer review, and professional standards of curation, museums offer carefully constructed narratives grounded in evidence. Unlike social media platforms that thrive on speed and virality, museums prioritize both context and integrity. The information shared is not meant to provoke outrage or clicks but to deepen understanding. This makes them one of the last widely trusted public institutions dedicated to those who seek real knowledge.

However, truth-telling is not passive. Many museums today are actively reexamining their own roles in colonialism, systemic racism, and exclusion. Through efforts such as repatriation, land acknowledgements, and inclusive storytelling, museums are not only preserving the past but correcting it. This sort of evolution in transparency only strengthens their reliability. Museums do not present static truths, but carefully unfold dynamic truths shaped by evidence, accountability, and willingness to grow.

For visitors used to navigating a digital landscape filled with contradictions and conspiracy theories, museums offer something simple but powerful: trust. When someone walks through the doors of a museum, they are not only entering a place of learning, but a space where curiosity meets responsibility. Exhibits on topics such as pandemics, climate change, immigration, and war offer the opportunity to encounter challenging information in a space designed for reflection, not reaction.

In a world where truth is often filtered, fractured, or weaponized, museums stand as quiet beacons. They are not perfect institutions, but they are intentional ones. I have seen visitors shift their long-held beliefs and ideas, passed down through generations or carried silently for decades, simply because of something they read on a wall or because a piece of history that was presented in a way that they have never encountered before. Museums do not force change; they invite it. When people are given space to reflect, the transformation can be truly profound. Through this, we are reminded that, while we cannot always control the information that we receive, we can choose the spaces in which we engage with it. That choice matters.

Conclusion

Museums are often seen as spaces for looking back, but in truth, they are deeply rooted in the present and invested in the future. They are not merely homes for objects, but homes for meaning. They are places where memory, identity, and human connection are preserved with intention. From their quiet role in World War II to their active resistance against modern misinformation, museums have proven their value far beyond the perception of dusty displays and field trips.

As someone who has had the privilege of working within a museum, I have come to see these spaces as living ecosystems. Each visitor travels their own path. Each question looks to be met with its own unique answer. Each pause in front of an exhibit adds a little something extra to the story being told. And, in a world that can feel so rushed, so disconnected, and overwhelmed by noise, museums offer something so radical: a moment to breathe, to think, to feel, and to understand.

They remind us that the past is not just behind us, but it is within us. When we protect and engage with it carefully with an open mind and willingness to learn, we are shaping the kind of future that we hope to inhabit. As Marcus Aurelius writes in Meditations, “Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current… But a moment, and it is gone, and another takes its place.” Museums allow us to stand briefly in that river. To hold a moment before it is swept away. And to carry its meaning forward with us.

Works Cited

Aurelius, Marcus. Meditations. Translated by Gregory Hays, Modern Library, 2002.

Redman, Samuel J. The Museum: A Short History of Crisis and Resilience. NYU Press, 2022.

Salari, Nader, et al. “Global Prevalence of Social Anxiety Disorder in Children, Adolescents, and Youth: A Systematic Review and Meta-analysis.” Journal of Prevention, June 2024. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/381291566