Sari Boren is a writer, museum exhibit developer
and instructional designer.
She received her BA from Brandeis University and her Ed.M from the Harvard Graduate School of Education.
Well, that's not very enlightening, is it? Here's a Q&A I conducted with myself. Several Qs are shamelessly stolen from Grub Street's Get to Know a Grubbie feature (you can go to my Services page for an overview of my professional work).
Q: Besides writing essays and plays and working as a museum professional, what else have you done?
I was born and raised on the Jersey Shore where I worked in my uncle's bakery and scooped frozen custard on the Asbury Park boardwalk. I moved up to Boston to attend Brandeis University, and after graduation worked mostly as a freelance videographer with odd side jobs when I couldn’t parlay my degree in early 20th century Russian literature into paid work. I packaged Mexican jumping beans, conducted marketing surveys (for slipper socks) at the mall, taught sex education, and cataloged stock video footage. I was a Kelly Girl secretary, an associate editor at a science fiction magazine, and an adventure tour guide driving foreign tourists across the country to places I'd never before visited.
When all that grew tiresome I went back to school for a Masters in Education at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, followed by a job at the now sadly defunct Computer Museum. In 1998 I co-founded the exhibit design firm Wondercabinet Interpretive Design, where I was the writer and exhibit developer for history, science, and children’s museums. Currently, I'm an independent museum professional who works with museums and exhibit design firms, and I'm also a freelance writer and instructional designer.
I live and work in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Want to know more? Email me (below).
Q: What's Grub Street?
Grub Street is a non-profit writing organization in Boston and the heart of Boston's writing community.
Q: Write a six-word memoir:
Sure, I'll eat the other half.
Q: What's your favorite way to procrastinate?
Reading political blogs and reorganizing my books.
Q: If obituaries were written as haikus (and they should be), what would yours say?
That’s bad luck, writing
my obituary. Oy.
Better I should wait.