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I’m an idealist and my values drive a lot of my decision making. I want to share a little about my core library values and what happens when professional pressures start to compromise them.
It will probably help if I frame all of this in a story. A
few years ago, I was at a
local library instruction conference listening to a respected colleague
present on a new program assessment effort she was leading. She encountered resistance
from tenured colleagues who were slow to engage with assessment efforts that
lacked clear incentives. I was newly tenured then and I had an epiphany: at
some point I’d become one of these tenured barriers to new ideas. I’d stopped idealizing
a “culture of assessment” and begun responding to it critically or even
cynically.
I’m an information literacy librarian and a teacher because
I value student learning. I’m emotionally engaged in my work; I imagine most
instruction librarians are. When I’m doing my best work, I’m helping students
unlock their curiosity and guiding them to master skills and methods for
critical thinking. I’m making an important difference and this feels good. We should
remember that our work has long-term social value. This is why I love what I do.
On an individual level, my values are still rooted in reflective practice
(from Char Booth’s Reflective Teaching, Effecting Learning: Instructional
Literacy for Library Educators “Reflective practice: Instructor development
strategies that observe and consider one’s own teaching effectiveness with the
goal of improving the learner experience”), but on an organizational level I’d
stopped believing in “the culture of assessment.”
This culture has been putting a lot of pressure on academic
libraries being asked to demonstrate the
value of libraries. Specifically, libraries are being pushed to provide
systematic assessment of the impact of their programs. Demonstrating value involves
assessment. Assessment involves setting program goals,
listing leaning outcomes that demonstrate these goals, and then measuring how
well we achieve these outcomes. Using this process we can know with greater
certainty whether we are succeeding at what we set out to do and whether what
we are doing is having a positive impact on library users. This is an unequivocally
a good thing and a necessary part of reflective practice. It keeps us honest
and helps steer our decisions with data. Assessment, however, is a loaded term with
multiple meanings, some of which contradict each other. I want to be clear that
I’m referring to “College Outcomes Assessment” which the ERIC
Thesaurus describes as:
Formal or informal appraisal or judgment of two- or four-year college programs or students in relation to institutional or public expectations of achievement or development--often but not always measured against specific objectives.
College outcomes assessment is a necessary part of reflective practice,
but it is not, by itself, sufficient to achieve reflective practice. However, the definition above makes it easy to
confuse outcomes assessment with reflective practice. This can be dangerous.
Reflective practice is aligned with my core values, but merely “demonstrating
value” is not. When it describes “College Outcomes Assessment,” the ERIC
Thesaurus includes both assessment of programs and assessment of students. My
assertion here is that assessment of student learning and the assessment of
institutional effectiveness (program assessment) are significantly different
efforts. Or, to paraphrase what a respected former colleague once told me:
“There is the assessment you do to become a better teacher and there’s the
assessment you do because the administration makes you.” My concern is that
assessment of student learning appeals to the core values of instruction
librarians and this appeal is being leveraged to entice us to engage in the
kinds of assessment that don’t align with our core values. It can feel like a
classic bait-and-switch con.
Good libraries assess because, when done correctly,
assessment fosters student learning. However, when done incorrectly, assessment
becomes a symbol for serious problems and issues in American higher education.
Assessment can be a
weapon used by administration to seize power from faculty. Assessment can
be a
Trojan horse for market values replacing the values of the public good and
social justice. We love our work and we love student learning, but when this
love and these values are co-opted to serve the neoliberal goals of
demonstrating institutional effectiveness or to apply a market value to
academic library services, it feels like betrayal. As an idealistic librarian,
when I feel my values betrayed the quality of my work and my ability to help
foster student learning diminishes.
So, how do we respond? To steal a simile, we should be as
wise as serpents and as innocent as doves. We should know that the motivating
agendas behind faculty and administration approaches to assessment are deeply
rooted but rarely communicated openly. Assessment is political and its language
is encrypted. We have to assess both to be true to our values and to survive in
the current higher education environment. What we can do is to make sure that
the value that we are demonstrating lines up with our values. We can be
engaged, creative, and tireless in measuring student learning, social justice,
and critical thinking. We can be more passive or somewhat-less-than- engaged,
creative, and tireless when asked to measure return on investment, to value
easy-to-quantify goals more highly than opaque goals, or to trade in our core
values for the values of the marketplace.
My
challenge in coming to grips with the pressure to assess has been to find a
middle ground. I’m looking for a space between the idealistic librarian who is
lured by the siren’s song of “the culture of assessment” into becoming a tool
for the neoliberal takeover of higher education and the cynical librarian who
can’t see past the pain of his betrayed values to engage in critical and
reflective practice. The serpent and dove approach is helping me to do this. It
reminds me of why I love my job while also encouraging me to put my experience
and understanding of how the institution works (even when these workings are
opaque to outsiders) to work for my core idealism and values.
Nicholas Schiller is the systems & instruction librarian at Washington State University Vancouver. He blogs at Information. Games. He tweets about capybaras, geeky things, running, and libraries at @nnschiller.