What Does A Public History Consultant Do?

This is the second part of a two-part mailbag about public history consulting.

In Part I of my mailbag, I discussed whether I am making a living as a public history consultant. In this part, I’ll talk more about what is within the scope of my work as a public history consultant and how it fits into the way public history entities work. Every consultant is different and works differently, but this will give you some insight into how this works for me.

As I mentioned in Part I, I resigned from my previous job where I ran a popular historic preservation program for adult learners and served as an editor for the National Council on Public History. I had been thinking about consulting for a few years, but before I started the business, I also applied for conventional, full-time jobs. I had developed a diverse skillset, both strategically and because I like to do a lot of different things. I applied and interviewed for jobs as a museum curator; a library fellowships manager; an executive director for a historic site; and (much) more.¹ I found that as a mid-career professional, it was difficult to convince folks I could lead an organization with limited experience leading an organization (though I think I can!). I also found there were few jobs at my level. Based on my unscientific assessment, there are more entry-level and upper-management positions than mid-level positions out there. (Oh, and of course there are tenure-track teaching positions…) I generally limited my search to the region I live in, but, honestly, when I was actively looking, I saw little that was the right fit regardless of locale.²

But why could I resign from a job and think there is a market for project-based work in the first place? While there probably have been paid consultants in the public history field forever, my casual impression is that more and more folks are choosing consulting for the flexibility it offers.³ Like any industry that hires consultants, museums, historic sites, municipalities, governmental entities, and other organizations hire consultants (or consultant teams) like me for project-based work for which they do not want or need to hire someone full- or part-time.⁴ That’s where I come in as a consultant. I fill a need an organization wants to fill using someone not currently on the payroll (or volunteer roll, for that matter).

At this point, the research begins. After I learn more about the client and project, usually by phone or video call as well as email, I write a proposal, provide a quote, and negotiate terms with the prospective client. I get a lot of business by word of mouth (thank you friends and colleagues!), and so many projects for which I apply are competitive but only to a point. The applying part usually involves a conversation, submission of a proposal (whether there is a formal RFP), negotiation and revision, and signing of a contract). I have interviewed for a few projects, but those experiences have been outliers. My proposals or bids have been compared to others’ in some situations. I have not done the math, but I would guess I have had about an 80-90% success rate in terms of applying for and getting contracts.

Museums and other entities fund this work in different ways. For some organizations, I have served as a subcontractor, and so that organization’s client was paying me indirectly. In other cases, museums or historic sites applied for and received grants for projects. In the short time I have been consulting, I think I’ve worked or will work on projects funded by grants from federal, state, as well as local sources, though recent actions of the second Trump administration have placed all these sources of funding under threat. At other times, organizations might do fundraising for a specific project I would be working on. In other cases, entities pay me from an existing consulting budget or some combination of all the above. Imagine any possible way to fund something, and I have probably been paid in that way!

In terms of the nature of the work itself, I have decided to offer a range of services rather than focus on one or two areas of expertise. There is nothing wrong with the latter, and my business may evolve in that way. Many consultants find a niche doing only strategic planning, for example, or exhibit design. I have always liked variety in my work, so I started my consultancy being open to tackling a diversity of tasks. In any case, there isn’t a big enough market to offer only disability history (my scholarly area of expertise) and accessibility planning in the public history field (yet!). As a result, the RFPs, RFQs, and more casual queries I have responded to have been for projects where I can boast some expertise either in terms of the historical content, the public history, museum, or research methods, or both. For example, I have worked with a federal entity to write an interpretive plan for the history of a governmental agency; designed and implemented an oral history project for a historic site; given talks on disability history and accessibility for multiple organizations; served as a peer reviewer and writer for a disability history curriculum; provided collections management services (such as writing policies, advising on collections management software, or providing basic collections assessments) for historic sites; researching the history of slavery and enslavement for a municipality; and more.

As I mentioned in Part I, to get this work, I spend a lot of time writing and revising proposals—in some cases, eight or more hours for a single proposal. I had written many applications for research grants. I have also served on many grant panels (the outside experts who help the granting agency make decisions about who to fund and why) at the local, state, and federal level. (The sooner you can get involved reviewing grants, the better! It’s a great learning experience and good for networking). And I wrote one or two small grants and managed a few others. But writing proposals for work projects was relatively new to me, and how to write proposals for consulting work was something I had to learn very quickly.

In my practice, project proposals become work plans. And so it is very important to get them right even though you can usually revise them as you go along. Proposals—which are often shared with potential funders or other people or entities with an interest in the project—need to show a number of things: that you are an excellent fit for the project in terms of expertise and skillset; that you can do the project within a specified budget (sometimes the client gives you a budget to work within and sometimes you propose one as a consultant); that you can create deliverables (or finished products such as a research report, edited interpretive plan, collections management policy, oral histories, an accessibility workshop, etc.) that align with the project the entity wants you to work on; that you can see how the project fits into the entity’s broader mission and goals (most of my clients are working on projects related to telling primary source-based diverse and inclusive stories even if the work I am doing is not directly related to telling those stories); and that you can do the work when the entity would like it to be completed. Usually submitting a proposal includes providing proof of business insurance. Sometimes entities have very detailed specifications for how to apply (paper or electronic, staples or no staples, etc.). Like any application process, it varies.

Uncertainty and risk come with any new professional venture. This includes the history profession, particularly given how the very nature of what it means to practice history and live in the United States has changed each day since the start of the second Trump administration. Despite that and the typical challenges that come with running a business, the variety of the work and the process are what I am enjoying the most. For anyone out there thinking about consulting, like any good historian, start by researching. I got a lot out of Rebecca Migdal’s Museum Mercenary: A Handbook for Museum Professionals (good even if you want to work with entities other than or in addition to museums). Network and ask consultants about how they started, why they consult, and what they have identified as the challenges. Established consultants were happy to set up video calls with me, and I connected with several consulting and independent public history professional groups. Consider how you might make it work financially and be sure to save some (or a lot) of money if you need it to help you get started. And enjoy. There are so many wonderful opportunities in this field. Sometimes, you create your own.

1. I did receive one offer during this search, but it was not the right fit.
2. You might also be wondering if I thought about leaving the history world entirely. I did, but I never explored that seriously beyond applying for one or two jobs. If I did that and weren’t getting another degree in, say, law, I would look for work at a disability- or environmental-related nonprofit, in the office of an elected official on policy or in communications, or, I would open the fine foods store of my dreams.
3. This topic was discussed recently on a consulting/independent public history listserv I am on.
4. Or, the work the consultant does helps the organization create a more permanent opportunity for someone, which is also good. Whether or not entities like museums and historic sites should create more full-time jobs with benefits rather than hire consultants is a good question. Am I perpetuating gig work, and is that a bad thing? Answering this question is out of the scope of this essay, but I will say that sometimes you just have project-based work that needs to get done. And, I think that is OK and even desirable.