Robin Panza wrote: >>...our door is opened at least once a day by people
wanting a look (at real "scientists", I assume).  I would never open a closed
door in any business, unless I was confident that I was supposed to be in
that room.  Even then, I'd knock.  That's the way I was raised.  I have
trouble with the idea that one can "make oneself at home" anywhere one goes,
without invitation.<<

This brought back memories of my days as an intern at the Biltmore House in
Asheville, NC.  We interns lived on-site in an apartment located above the
former stable, which was converted into a gift shop/cafi/exhibition/restroom
area.  To reach our apartment, you had to first unhook the velvet rope (what
else?!!), then walk up a short flight of stairs to a landing clearly marked
with a "NO ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT" sign.  Then, up a full flight of stairs,
through a closed door labeled "PRIVATE:  DO NOT ENTER" and up yet another
staircase.  If you made it all the way, you ended up just outside our
bathroom.

We never locked our apartment door; we just knew nobody would enter--all
those signs, stairs, door and rope barrier.  So, imagine my roommate's
surprise when, exiting from the shower one morning, she came face to face
with a vacationing family who shrugged and said, "We just wanted to see..."
 Well, they did get an eyeful!

We thought this was an isolated incident, but it happened again and again.
 After about the 10th time, we finally gave in and realized that there would
always be people who believed that the rules did not apply to them.  We
weren't angry, just a bit surprised.  So we locked the door and put up with a
slight inconvenience to get some peace-of-mind and privacy.

Years later, as a curator in a historical society museum, I found that the
children policed themselves and each other, and didn't touch what they
weren't supposed to touch.  The adults were another story, completely
ignoring signs and barriers, even to the point of breaking free objects that
had been tied down--not to steal them, just to get a better look and touch
them.  This wasn't because they had nothing to touch (I included interactive
elements and objects from the hands-on collection) or were ignorant of how to
behave.  They felt they had the right to do whatever they wanted.  After
that, if I really didn't want people to handle the artifacts, I put them in
secure cases.

I've avoided touching museum artifacts from the time I was a wee child.  When
I think back about this, I realize it had more to do with the FEAR of what my
mother would do to me and an AWE of the museum as an institution of authority
rather than any respect for the objects.  So, I now try to ease the
fears/brashness of young museum visitors and show them precisely how handling
objects alters them physically and may change how they are interpreted
historically, etc.  This mini material culture lesson has had a profound
impact on how objects are treated by visitors.

It seems to me that, unless we want all our art/artifacts to be encased like
the Mona Lisa, we will never completely eradicate the "touchers."  I, for
one, don't want to be separated from all art/artifacts by a wall of
Plexiglas.  And, I believe that some museum objects SHOULD be touched (like
the Maori sacred objects  discussed on museum-l).  Surely, there is a point
of compromise that all of us can live with...