Kelly Klobucher | Museum Executive | Cultural Tourism Strategist | Non-Profit Leader

As a Gen-X museum professional, I have spent years searching for the perfect Halloween costume.

Something clever. Something Iconic. Something historically and culturally adjacent. Something that says, “I have a degree, strong opinions about interpretation, and absolutely no idea what to do with my life outside of museums.”

I think I’ve finally found it.

Lady Elaine Fairchilde.

Yes, that Lady Elaine. The outspoken, eccentric, slightly cranky resident of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood of Make-Believe who lives in the Museum-Go-Round, owns a helicopter, and has a habit of turning things upside down.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized we have a surprising amount in common.

And I’m not just talking about our good looks and flawless blush application. Don’t forget your nose! The redder the better!

We Both Spend Our Time in Museums.

Lady Elaine: Lives in the Museum-Go-Round, where she surrounds herself with collections ranging from dinosaur bones to antique telephones.

Kelly Elaine: Manages museums and historic sites. Some people might say I practically live at one. At home, I live in an old limestone church, watch tv in a former ballroom, and surround myself with books, art, whimsical lamps, travel souvenirs, and an inexplicable number of rubber chickens.

So, yes. I have a type.

Apparently, it’s buildings with interesting collections and questionable amounts of personal space.

There are people who decorate their homes with coordinated throw pillows. I decorate mine as though an eccentric curator has been given unrestricted access to an estate sale.

I prefer to think of this as living interpretively.

My family might have other terminology.

We Are Both Opinionated Women. Apparently, That’s a Thing.

Lady Elaine: Opinionated. Eccentric. Self-confident. Occasionally troublesome.

Kelly Elaine: Huh. That’s weird. Would we use those same words if Lady Elaine were a dude?

This is where the comparison gets interesting.

In museums, as in many workplaces, women who are agreeable, accommodating, and endlessly helpful are often celebrated. Women who ask difficult questions, challenge assumptions, or point out that something isn’t fair can receive a rather different review.

Suddenly, we’re not decisive. We’re difficult.

Not passionate. We’re emotional.

Not “holding employees to a performance standard.” We’re MEAN and unreasonable.

Not willing to challenge an inequitable situation. We’re making trouble.

And if we’re also a little eccentric? Well, now we’re practically a public safety concern.

Lady Elaine doesn’t seem particularly interested in making herself smaller to keep everyone comfortable. Neither, apparently, am I.

I’ve spent much of my career advocating for others, speaking truth to power, and occasionally asking questions that would have been more convenient if I had simply kept my mouth shut.

Have I always handled everything perfectly? Absolutely not.

Have I sometimes been cranky before my second cup of coffee? I plead the Fifth.

But I’ve learned that being liked and doing the right thing are not always the same thing. And if you’re going to spend your career advocating for communities, preserving difficult histories, and trying to make institutions more equitable, you’re occasionally going to make someone uncomfortable.

Sometimes that discomfort is the point.

I’m not suggesting we should all aspire to be difficult. I’m suggesting that we should be careful about labeling women difficult simply because they refuse to be agreeable at the expense of their principles.

Also, I would like to point out that Lady Elaine has a helicopter. Clearly, she has achieved a level of professional independence to which I can only aspire.

We Both Have a Complicated Relationship With Being Liked

Lady Elaine: Sometimes worries that she isn’t lovable and needs reassurance that people like her just the way she is.

Kelly Elaine: Girl. SAME.

There is something both hilarious and painfully relatable about a fictional character who can turn an entire neighborhood upside down but still needs reassurance that people like her.

Because here’s the thing about being a woman who has opinions, ambition, and a strong sense of fairness: you can spend a lifetime trying to figure out how to be yourself without making yourself too much for other people.

Be confident, but not intimidating.

Be assertive, but not aggressive.

Be passionate, but don’t get emotional.

Be a leader, but make sure everyone likes you.

Be the person willing to have the difficult conversation, but somehow ensure that nobody feels uncomfortable during it.

Oh, and while you’re at it, make sure the coffee is ready for the meeting.

It’s exhausting.

I suspect a lot of women in museums recognize this balancing act, and even struggle with imposter syndrome. We work in institutions that ask us to preserve the past, interpret complicated stories, serve our communities, manage budgets, lead teams, and somehow make everything meaningful and welcoming.

We also sometimes absorb the unspoken expectation that we should be endlessly patient, endlessly gracious, and endlessly available.

Lady Elaine seems to have skipped that particular professional development session.

Good for her.

And good for the rest of us when we remember that being imperfect, opinionated, and occasionally difficult does not make us unworthy of affection, respect, or a seat at the table.

Although it might make us less popular at certain committee meetings.

We Both Collect Beautiful, Bizarre Things

Lady Elaine: Curator of the Museum-Go-Round, home to all manner of objects, real and magical.

Kelly Elaine: Curator of my own personal Museum of Things I Didn’t Need But Absolutely Had to Have.

I collect art, books, travel souvenirs, and objects with stories. My house is basically an interpretive exhibit about the things that catch my attention and the places I’ve been.

There are lamps that could have careers of their own. There are enough books to concern a structural engineer. There are objects that would require a ten-minute explanation to anyone who asked why I own them.

And there are rubber chickens, monkeys and Die Hard memorabilia.

I don’t know what this says about my curatorial philosophy.

Perhaps the collection reflects my belief that history, culture, and beauty should never be entirely separated from a healthy appreciation for the absurd.

Or perhaps I just shouldn’t be allowed unsupervised access to museum gift shops, estate sales and thrift stores.

Either way, I have accepted that my home will never look like a minimalist Scandinavian furniture catalog. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Minimalism is lovely. But where would I put the souvenirs?

We Both Know a Little Magic

Lady Elaine: Has a magic boomerang that can turn things upside down and create a little chaos.

Kelly Elaine: Has a morning potion made from roasted Arabica beans that occasionally brings me back from the dead.

We all have our gifts.

In the museum world, I’ve become rather good at coordinating chaos, solving problems, getting people moving in the same direction, and figuring out how to make something work when the original plan has gone spectacularly sideways.

It’s a useful skill when you’re managing historic sites, interpreting complicated histories, juggling budgets, and working with people who all have different ideas about what should happen next.

Sometimes leadership means having a vision.

Sometimes it means building consensus.

Sometimes it means calmly explaining that no, we cannot move a historic building by Tuesday.

And sometimes it means waving an imaginary boomerang, saying something that would not pass muster in a children’s television program, and getting everyone back on track.

I don’t always get it right. Nobody does.

But I have learned that the ability to tolerate a certain amount of chaos is practically a job requirement in museums.

We are, after all, in the business of taking things that happened hundreds of years ago, explaining why they matter today, and doing it while the HVAC system is making a noise nobody can identify.

Magic would help.

We Both Moved From Someplace Else

Lady Elaine: An outspoken, cranky woman who moved to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe from Someplace Else to run the Museum-Go-Round.

Kelly Elaine: An outspoken woman who moved through out the midwest from Someplace Else to run museums.

I mean, come on.

At this point, I’m starting to wonder whether someone at the Fred Rogers Company had access to my personnel file.

Lady Elaine also has a reputation for being the antagonist when a storyline calls for one.

Kelly Elaine: Ha! Wow.

There is a whole conversation to be had about who gets cast as the antagonist in professional settings, particularly when a woman challenges the established order.

Sometimes the person raising the uncomfortable question is the one trying to prevent a bad decision.

Sometimes the person being labeled difficult is the only one willing to say that the emperor has no clothes.

And sometimes the person is, in fact, having a bad day and could benefit from a snack and a nap.

Self-awareness matters. So does accountability.

But we should also remember that the person disrupting the status quo isn’t necessarily the villain. Sometimes she’s simply the person who noticed the status quo wasn’t working.

I suspect Lady Elaine would have been a fascinating board member.

I also suspect she would have had some thoughts about the strategic plan.

We Have a Few Other Things in Common

Lady Elaine owns a helicopter named Yo-Yo.

Kelly Elaine has added “acquire helicopter” to her list of life goals. Alternatively, I could settle for giving my car a whimsical nickname. We must all be realistic about our budgets, especially while working for nonprofits.

According to a Neighborhood census, Lady Elaine can whistle and her favorite color is red.

Me too!

Lady Elaine also mistakenly thought she was engaged to be married. Twice.

Oh my goodness. Parallel lives!

Although, in my opinion, the second one doesn’t count. Let’s leave those stories to history.

I’m not sure what the statistical probability is of sharing so many characteristics with a fictional resident of a children’s television neighborhood. I suspect the scientific community has not yet allocated funding to investigate this phenomenon.

Their loss.

Perhaps the Neighborhood of Make-Believe Has Something to Teach Us

Here’s what I keep coming back to: Lady Elaine is not the perfectly polished, endlessly agreeable woman we are often encouraged to admire.

She’s eccentric. She’s opinionated. She’s occasionally difficult. She has a temper and a flair for the dramatic.

But she’s also capable, independent, resourceful, and willing to stand up when something isn’t right.

She is allowed to take up space.

She is allowed to have a personality.

She is allowed to be more than one thing at a time.

And maybe that’s what makes her such an unexpectedly good Halloween costume for a Gen-X woman who has spent much of her professional life in museums.

Because museums are full of complicated people. History is full of complicated people. And the women who work to preserve, interpret, and make sense of both are complicated people, too.

We can be serious about our work without taking ourselves too seriously.

We can be passionate about equity and preservation while acknowledging that we occasionally lose our patience with people who put the wrong date on a historical timeline.

We can be strong leaders and still need reassurance.

We can advocate for others and still have days when we need someone to advocate for us.

And we can be accomplished professionals who go home to a ballroom full of books, art, and rubber chickens.

Life is complicated enough without insisting that everyone fit neatly into a display case.

Perhaps the best thing we can do is embrace our peculiarities, recognize our blind spots, and keep asking the questions that need to be asked.

Even when someone thinks we’re being difficult.

Especially then, sometimes.

So, This Halloween, I’m Embracing My Inner Lady Elaine

I’m not saying I’m going to start carrying a magic boomerang to meetings-but I DO have one.

I’m not saying I’m going to buy a helicopter.

I’m not even saying that I will stop being cranky before coffee. Let’s not get carried away.

But I am beginning to suspect that Lady Elaine and I have more in common than I originally thought.

She runs a museum. She collects unusual things. She speaks her mind. She challenges authority. She occasionally turns things upside down.

And underneath all that bluster, she wants to be accepted for who she is.

Well, Lady Elaine, I get it.

And if anyone has a problem with my Halloween costume, they can take it up with the Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

I’ll be the one in red.

Whistling.

Probably drinking coffee.

And wondering whether it’s too late to start a helicopter fund.

Happy Halloween from Kelly Elaine, curator of the Museum of Things I Probably Shouldn’t Have Bought, advocate for the occasionally inconvenient truth, and apparently one magic boomerang away from becoming an iconic children’s television character. Read more of my thoughts at kellyklobucher.net and follow my travels to other museums and historic sites at thebackyardtourist.com.