Donation requests for disease research and disaster relief regularly flood my mailbox, reminding me continually of the great sorrow in this world. Sometimes I wonder why I devote my time to a museum when there is so much else to be done, and how I can ask people to donate to support Conner Prairie's mission.

At times of doubt, I think of my husband Ted, a dedicated physician who treats patients who are very sick with skin or kidney cancer but also does clinical research to advance options.

We've been married for 25 years, and in that time I've witnessed the incredible demands of such work. Overseeing care, answering questions, and emergencies have mean't that he missed kids' soccer games and school ceremonies. He's spent family outings on the phone, and come home too late for family dinners. (Once when Ted actually got home for dinner, my oldest son said, "Look Mom we have a special guest tonight.")

It may surprise you to know, that through the years with Ted, my appreciation of the value of places like Conner Prairie has grown. Ted loves to come to Conner Prairie. It is a place where our family can connect, where we can share stories about our families, where we can learn about Indiana, our adopted home. He finds mental renewal here. At Conner Prairie, he actively engages in learning; he's fascinated by the story of the Lenape Indians and finds the environment rejuvenating. Since its opening last year, the 1859 Balloon Exhibit has become his favorite experience - Ted and my son, Daniel, are pictured above.

As I've gotten older and the evanescence and fragility of life has loomed larger, my appreciation has grown for places like Conner Prairie that enrich our communities and allow us all to continue to learn and grow.

Efforts to cure illness and alleviate suffering must be supported; but my husband who spends too many hours in front line care would be among the first to assert that without places for enrichment and renewal, the entire community suffers.

It's always exciting to visit New York City in December. The lights...the window displays...the energy. On a recent visit, I was particularly excited to see the new American Wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. That part of New York's iconic museum contains the stuff I studied while earning my first master's degree in Early American Culture from the H.F. DuPont Winterthur Museum between 1976 and 1978.

Thirty years ago when I was a student, collectors of Americana focused on objects made or used in the original 13 colonies before 1840. States beyond those on the seacoast were largely ignored even though there were well over 25 states by the mid 1800s. If you visited the Henry Ford Museum, Dearborn, Michigan, or the Boston Museum of Fine Arts in the 1970s, you saw the same kinds of American furniture and silverware from the East Coast, and ceramics and glassware from the States or Europe and Asia.

As the time for our visit to the Met approached, I wondered if the collection displayed in cases and in period room settings, might now include things from a wider range of states such as Tennessee or Utah. Would the timeframe be extended into the 20th century? Would the Metropolitan attempt to tell the full American story?

What I found was a newly designed and very beautiful space. My kudos to the curators, some of whom are fellow graduates of the Winterthur program. Objects individually displayed in the balcony galleries now date from throughout the 19th and into the 20th century, and they come from a greater number of states. In contrast, only two or three of the period rooms venture into the second half of the 1800s. And, only one room, a stunning installation taken from a Minnesota home designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, steps into the 20th century and represents the Midwest.

Having lived in Indiana for 10 years, I can't help but wish that the Metropolitan would expand the geographic representation of the room displays. Granted, the mission of an art museum is to present the best examples in any art form, not to comprehensively review. Nevertheless, New York City is the place where many international visits to America begin and end. I hate to think of tourists from abroad missing the fuller and much richer sweep of American life and culture. Over 300 years, the objects made here have provided evidence of how separate ethnic traditions have evolved into a distinctly American style. If you have visited Conner Prairie, you know that we present this evolution through costumed interpreters and period settings.

Perhaps I should have left a sign in the Met that read: "Please note: This is only part of the American story. For a more complete picture, please visit www.connerprairie.org."

I hope you will also visit and participate in our programs to get a sense of how America grew and changed through the years.

It can be hard to find historical topics that capture the interest of audiences today.

Our goal this year in introducing a series of talks followed by facilitated conversations, was to provide adults the chance to interact with history by sharing their own perspectives on how the topic relates to life today. It was an experiment. We weren’t sure if enough people in the community were interested.

From the perspective of engagement with the topic, the most successful talk by far was our fourth lecture. Michael Zimmerman, Ph.D., professor of biology at Butler University, spoke on the historical context for Darwin’s theories on American society. Even before the lecture, I received emails and letters of protest.

Writers argued that Conner Prairie should not sponsor such a presentation because the inhabitants of 1836 Prairietown would not have accepted Darwin’s theories. Others felt that it was inappropriate for Conner Prairie to touch on a subject as controversial as Darwin. At the lecture, a heated debate followed. Bloggers commented afterward on the ideas expressed and points rebutted.

In the end, each side vented their views with passion but without ill effect. A terrific result!

Of course, I don’t relish causing Conner Prairie supporters anguish. But I do enjoy opening a historical topic that still touches people today.

For our next lecture Marcus Rediker, author of the award winning book, “The Slave Ship,” will explore the lives and roles of everyone connected to the African slave trade. His research makes clear how easily people objectified and lost compassion for others when money was involved. The topic unfortunately remains very relevant today. I invite all to hear Marcus on Sunday, November 8 at 4pm at Conner Prairie and join in what I hope will be a lively discussion.

Why is an advertisement for Eurostar, the train that runs between London and Paris, posted with a blog for Conner Prairie? Because it includes a picture of my 16-year old son Paul. A photographer for Eurostar’s advertising company snapped the picture last summer in Paris when Paul was traveling with his friend Eli Ramthun and his parents. He’s in the green shirt, by the way --- on the left. His picture is on Eurostar’s website (shown here) and plastered on buses and subways (or tubes as they call them) throughout London.

For my husband and me, the picture seems yet another harbinger of Paul’s growing independence. As his picture trundles through foreign territory, so will he soon move on to college and his own life.

We have less than two years before Paul graduates and like his two brothers before him, leaves home. My husband and I will be rattling around in a quiet, empty house. No longer will rock music blare from Paul’s end of the hall; no longer will groceries mysteriously disappear when his friends are around.

Although I will miss him, I take satisfaction in knowing that he will follow a path of inquiry and lifelong learning that we set him on when he was little. We nurtured his curiosity about the world and his passion for knowledge by introducing him to new experiences and encouraging his own interests. In Pittsburgh, where we lived until Paul was six, we often visited the natural history museum, the science center, the art museum and the zoo. Those were places, like Conner Prairie, where a child could make his or her own discoveries, learn about the world and begin the important work of becoming an inquisitive adult.

Paul is ready to find his own way. Soon he will catch up with his picture, which has already taken on a life of its own.

A central part of our mission at Conner Prairie is to be a place of discovery where children can follow their own interests as part of the important work of growing up.

What have your children discovered here?

I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to honor some extraordinary American trailblazers at this year’s Spirit of the Prairie awards dinner, September 12. The annual Spirit of the Prairie dinner is Conner Prairie’s opportunity to recognize those who have created a distinctly American story with their vision, passion, dedication and courage. The honorees exemplify the spirit of endeavor that created the rich and ever changing tapestry of the United States.

This year’s Hoosier Heritage honorees include international opera soprano and Indianapolis native Angela Brown; Emmy-nominated journalist Janet Langhart Cohen; preservationist, philanthropist and Indiana native Richard E. Ford; and U.S. Senator Richard G. Lugar.

Through the years Conner Prairie has given the Spirit of the Prairie Award to remarkable, talented, accomplished people with foresight, brilliance and perseverance. I’ve always loved the awards dinner and this year adds yet another illustrious roster of honorees to the Conner Prairie family including a personal connection from my past.

In 1985 when I was invisibly pregnant with my oldest son and working as a curator at the Frick house museum, Pittsburgh, I was hired as a consultant to give advice to a young entrepreneur, Pleasant Rowland. She wanted to create a series of books about girls in America’s past with dolls of each of the girls featured.

A group of historians assembled with Pleasant and her writers. We talked about the characters they had invented: Felicity, a Colonial girl, Samantha, a wealthy orphan in the late 1800s, and Kirsten, a Norwegian child in Wisconsin. I shared what I knew about Helen Clay Frick’s life in Victorian Pittsburgh.

I hoped the venture would succeed because I shared her conviction that girls needed more active role models. But having never been interested in dolls myself, I doubted the project would go anywhere. You all know how wrong I was. Pleasant sold the flourishing company to Mattel, Inc. in 1998.

This year Conner Prairie has created a new award to honor someone who has stimulated American’s interest in history. Our first awardee is Pleasant Rowland. I’ve waited nearly a quarter of a century to thank her for pursuing a dream that has had positive impact on our country – and on my life. Because of Pleasant, I learned that it’s the story that matters in inspiring an interest in history. The details, the facts are essential – but only as background.

Please join me this year on September 12 at Conner Prairie to honor all of these amazing honorees.

See you there.