Heritage as connection, not consumption

Fifteen years after its creation, the network continues to encompass and support 67 sites across Europe, each recognized for its distinct contribution to the European project and the multiple layers of meaning it holds for citizens. 

The value of heritage lies not in how many visitors it draws, but in how deeply people can relate to and participate in it. Through co-creation, collaboration, and shared storytelling, our work strives to nurture connections across generations, identities, and regions. An example of this desire for connection beyond borders is the transnational site Cisterscapes – Cistercian Landscapes Connecting Europe, which unites 17 monastic landscapes in Austria, the Czech Republic, Germany, Poland, and Slovenia. The site highlights the historical heritage of the Cistercian Order, demonstrating how the same religious, cultural, and agricultural ideas historically shaped diverse communities beyond national borders. It emphasizes the importance of connecting the historical heritage of peoples across geographical boundaries, while highlighting shared roots and cultural influences that span nations and generations, thus strengthening a sense of common European heritage. 

The selection of sites that today make up the EHL map is deliberate, reflecting the belief that connection fosters belonging and invites people to see themselves in and through heritage, as participants in ongoing stories rather than passive consumers of cultural goods. 

Conveying this philosophy effectively requires close collaboration between the custodians of cultural sites and the Bureau, creating a network of professionals and organizations that promote projects allowing citizens to experience these principles firsthand. One example is the work of Laura Tapini, Core Group Member for Youth Engagement and Managing Director of the NGO DIADRASIS. 

For Tapini, the idea of “heritage as connection” does not deny that heritage sites may at times be approached as attractions. Rather, it reframes the experience. Heritage, she argues, carries multiple intrinsic values, and each person connects with them differently, depending on their life stage and personal history. Even when experienced as something “consumable,” a heritage site can awaken curiosity, raise unexpected questions, or stir powerful emotions. Connection, after all, is rooted in feeling. Cultural heritage—whether it inspires pride, discomfort, admiration, or critical reflection—moves us. And what moves us connects us. 

Measuring the impact of this approach requires looking beyond attendance numbers or short-term outputs. While DIADRASIS systematically evaluates its projects through both quantitative and qualitative methods, Tapini sees the true indicator of success in continuity. What happens after the official end of a programme? What reactions continue to resonate? In different cultural contexts, she has witnessedprojects generating precisely these ripple effects. For organizations operating in the often-precarious NGO landscape—especially within a field sometimes perceived as niche or “peculiar” such as cultural heritage—such moments of sustained engagement are not only proof of impact but also essential motivation. 

Central to this impact is a simple yet demanding principle: work with local communities and give relationships time to grow. As an external consultant, DIADRASIS invests significant effort in understanding what Tapini calls the “real treasure” of each place—its people. By collaborating with passionate individuals and existing local initiatives, projects gain a multiplier effect. Once empowered, local actors can continue developing ideas independently. They cease to be mere beneficiaries and become long-term collaborators. 

A clear example of this “connection-first” mindset is Kymi’s Stories, developed in collaboration with a local folklore museum in Eubea, Greece. Inspired by the museum’s collection, children interviewed relatives and contributed these oral histories to the museum’s digital repository. The project dissolved rigid boundaries between tangible and intangible heritage and demonstrated that local history transcends age. It belongs equally to children, parents, and grandparents. The warm reception from the community organically led to a new phase of collaboration, now focusing on sustainability and circular economy principles as interpreted through the same collection. Here, heritage did not remain static; it became a catalyst for intergenerational dialogue and contemporary reflection. 

Encouraging museums and heritage organizations to adopt interactive, community-based strategies, however, is not without challenges. Tapini identifies what she half-jokingly calls the “spell” of technology. In early discussions, institutions often prioritize impressive digital tools—pixel-heavy, high-cost solutions—before clarifying their educational objectives or pedagogical foundations. While she embraces technology and integrates it into many aspects of her work, she warns against overlooking the power of simple, direct, physical experiences. Carefully designed educational programmes grounded in clear pedagogical principles can create profound engagement, often more effectively than expensive digital installations. True connection occurs not only between people and heritage, but among people sharing the same space and moment. 

Beyond Greece, DIADRASIS has collaborated with several EHL sites. Alongside work in Nemea, the organization is currently developing Pairing for Sharing with the Romanian Athenaeum in Bucharest. The project aims to strengthen heritage professionals’ capacity to engage young people with the European dimension of EHL sites. It began with study visits and capacity-building workshops and has evolved into a co-creation process with local teenagers. Participants are designing their own guided tours that interpret the European values embedded in the site, which will be presented during the European Heritage Days. The initiative will culminate in a methodological handbook, enabling other members of the EHL community to replicate and adapt the approach. Once again, the emphasis lies on collaboration, shared authorship, and sustainability beyond the lifespan of a single project. 

Looking ahead, Tapini resists grand predictions about the future of heritage. Rather than prescribing a vision, she expresses curiosity. She acknowledges the temptation—common at a certain stage of professional life—to speak in aphorisms about the next generation. Instead, she chooses to remain open to surprise. The future relationship between society and cultural heritage, she suggests, will be shaped by those who dare to imagine, challenge, redefine, and build it. 

In this sense, the European Heritage Label is not merely a recognition scheme. It is an evolving framework within which connection—across borders, generations, and disciplines—becomes both method and goal. Heritage, understood as connection, is not a finished product. It is an invitation to participate.