Advice to those who are new (or even not so new) to librarianship from someone who has been doing this work for a while now.
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Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
You Can Get Anything You Want...
I know that the audience for this blog extends beyond the borders of the United States, but here in the US it's a holiday week. One of my traditions for this week is that I must listen to "Alice's Restaurant" as many times as I possibly can. If you've never heard this song, I think it's time for you to fix that. (It's a true story, by the way.)
If you're in the US, I hope you have the holiday week that you want to have. If you're not in the US, sorry for the interruption in service. But really, listen to the song.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Working at an Overseas Library, by Kimberly Sweetman
If I ever go on Jeopardy I have a topic to guarantee some
kick ass small talk with Alex Trebec during my introduction. “So, Kimberly, you
have lived in a country that most people have never heard of…”
It all started when my phone rang one spring day in 1997. I
was working in Washington, DC, at my first-ever real librarian job. The job was
at a grant funded information clearinghouse with somewhat unstable funding, so
I was kinda looking for a new job. Then a former colleague called and told me
he had something for me if I wanted it.
Before library school, I had worked in the Health Sciences Library
at Emory University. One of the great things about the job was my colleagues.
Every last one of them was fantastic. One, John, was studying for his MLS at
the time we’d worked together, and when he finished he went to work as the
Associate Library Director at an offshore medical school. When my phone rang in
the Spring of 1997, it was John telling me he was leaving this job, and if I
was up for a little adventure it was mine.
The school flew me down to Dominica for more of a
meet-and-greet than an interview. I checked out the island and the campus and
then got the inside skinny from John. He said it was an odd place, likening it
to Rudolph’s island of
misfit toys. While the natural beauty of the
island was amazing there was no doubting it was the developing world. There was
a lot of poverty and a significant lack of infrastructure. The roads were in
disrepair and people drove like maniacs—as someone from Massachusetts I know
rough roads and wild drivers, but this was beyond even my experiences. The
campus was not beautiful—tin roofed temporary buildings that all looked identical.
There was also the threat of hurricanes, tsunami, and volcanic activity.
But one thing stuck out in my mind: I could not think of a
single reason not to take the job.
Sure, the job I had at the time job was good but I was outgrowing it and who
knew if it would even be there in a year’s time. I had no spouse, no mortgage,
no kids. I didn’t even have a pet. I would be leaving lots of friends but even
in 1997 we had email and phone service (although we wouldn’t have Skype for
another 6 years). And there was one huge draw: the money I would earn. First
there was the foreign earned income exclusion, the cap of which was higher than
my salary. No federal income tax! And there was a seriously reduced cost of
living. As someone struggling under $30,000 of student loan debt at the time
($5,000 of which I had already paid of thanks to cheap rent and a second job at
Macy’s), this was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
The only obstacle that remained was telling my parents, who
were surprisingly ok with it. I guess the moves I’d made to my first graduate
school in Atlanta and the second, when I realized I wanted to a librarian, in Washington
DC had prepared them. My mother’s reaction was perfect: “you’ll be able to say
you spent your 27th year living in the Caribbean and you’ll have cocktail party
conversation for the rest of your life.” She was right.
And so I moved to Dominica. It wasn’t always easy living there.
Electricity failures were common, and I lost my water almost every day. Also, I
had to start from scratch in almost every way—making friends, getting around,
paying bills, buying groceries. I arrived on the Saturday of a holiday weekend
to an empty refrigerator and shops closed for the next 36 hours. Thankfully my
sister had sent me off with a generous portion of baked ziti that wasn’t
confiscated by customs officials.
Socially it was hard. I had never before been the “other.” I
grew up in a fairly homogeneous environment and living in Dominica was very
enlightening for me. But eventually I learned to fit in. I made Domincan
friends, friends I still have to this day. I also met plenty Americans and
British, most of whom were a little unusual. A good friend—another American
living on the island—described them as “two standard deviations from the norm.”
The first was that they were academics, so somewhat odd already, and the second
was that they were willing to move to a small island nation and work at an
offshore medical school. It’s basically the same thing that John meant by “the
island of misfit toys.” But in the end, that was part of the charm.
This experience changed me, and prepared me. I came home
without any student loan debt and with a nice little bag of money. Because I
was an assistant library director I was given management responsibility very
early in my career that I never would have gotten in the US. I had to grow and
adapt and change quickly, which helped me mature as an individual. I learned to
appreciate what it meant to grow up in America which was something I had never
considered before that point. Most importantly, now I know I can pick up and
move to a totally new place and know that overall everything will be ok.
And you know what? I did it again. Four years ago my spouse
called me and said, “I’ve got something for you if you want it: a transfer to
Amsterdam.” Again, the only barrier for us was fear. Fear in the face of change
is natural, but because of my experience in Dominica, I know fear isn’t reason
enough to shy away. There may be legitimate reasons not to go on an adventure,
but for me, fear isn’t one of them.
I’m not young anymore. Now I do have a spouse, a mortgage, a
kid, and even some pets. But my adventure became part of who I am and taught me
not to be afraid of change. It taught me to manage risks. I remember the day I
announced my move to Dominica , a friend from college called me as soon as he
heard. He was excited for me and said,“sometimes you have to grab the brass
ring.” The public at large probably doesn’t think of librarianship as a
particularly adventurous career move, but like any career, it is what you make
it. And we manage change and risk all the time. We grab the brass ring.
After spending
20 years in library public service, Kimberly Sweetman now works as a consultant
and coach helping libraries and library people to reach their goals and develop
superior service through exceptional leadership. She blogs at kimberlysweetman.com and tweets as @sweetcoachcons. This is her second post for Letters
to a Young Librarian. The first was "Are Your Colleagues Dumb? Read This."
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
#libleadgender
There is a storify of our Twitter conversation from this afternoon, but here are the questions we asked:
Question 1:
Question 1:
I'd first like to know how the article made you feel. What was your internal or external response and emotions? #libleadgender
— Michelle (@winelibrarian) November 17, 2015
Question 2:
So, we are hoping to get some ideas from you all on how to informally build a community around this topic. Thoughts? #libleadgender
— Michelle (@winelibrarian) November 17, 2015
Question 3:
I had someone ping me offline with a comment for #libleadgender, but it's going to take multiple tweets so bear with me.
— Jessica Olin (@olinj) November 17, 2015
"I keep thinking about gender non-conformity in regards to #libleadgender, both from a narrow(ish) trans* lens, but also in a... 1/?
— Jessica Olin (@olinj) November 17, 2015
very broad "ideal feminity" lens which would include lots of stuff." #libleadgender so... Q3, thoughts on that comment?
— Jessica Olin (@olinj) November 17, 2015
Question 4:
I have an anonymous question for the group. I think we're at Question 4! #libleadgender
— Michelle (@winelibrarian) November 17, 2015
Q4: "How do you deal with an older generation of women who actively block your work because you are younger and female?" #libleadgender
— Michelle (@winelibrarian) November 17, 2015
As of this moment, the Storify is a bit messy. I had a hard time juggling between participating in the discussion and capturing it. I plan to go back in later this week to clean it up.Moving forward:
We are exploring what to do next, but one thing we know for sure is that we will have another Twitter discussion in the future. If you were unable to attend and want to chime in, please do so in the comments or continue to use #libleadgender on Twitter.
Thank you all for not only participating, but for being so respectful of us and each other. Sometimes I really really love this profession.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
On Listening and Being Listened To, by Michele Santamaria
source |
My former colleague,
let’s call them "M," was completely baffled that someone could get a
job recommendation letter from a person whom they had never met face-to-face. M
was questioning the validity of a recommendation letter written by a library
school professor who had only interacted with our candidate during online
classes. The candidate in question was someone who had been hired in a
temporary position at our library and whom I had never met. However, I
knew that the candidate had alienated M by implying, either accidentally or
intentionally, that M’s view of librarianship was hopelessly out of date.
In fact, I had been
warned by someone who had worked at the library for a very long time that it
was very important to show M respect. Which I did. But I also showed
her respect by engaging her in real dialogue and occasionally challenging her
preconceptions. This discussion about the recommendation letter was one of
those moments.
When it came to
discussing this lack of face-to-face contact, I pointed out that I knew several
excellent librarians in an "In Real Life" context who had attended
the same online program and that this was the way many people were becoming
librarians in our geographic area. Given the number of library schools and the
economic realities of life, this was the best way for most people. To riff on
the language used by Jessica in a recent post, I created a bridge between
online and real life, a rift that M didn’t like to traverse. M nodded
cautiously; at this point, they didn't think that I was full of crap, so I took
it as a good sign.
This particular
conversation took place during the summer when there was less stuff to do. I
sat down and spoke with M for about an hour. We would do this sometimes.
Though M was the most senior of the librarians and very set in some ways, I
felt that M was willing to listen to me. Maybe part of the reason for this is
that M felt the same way about me, hence the title of this post. These times
with M resonate for me, given some recent commentary about newbies needing to
do a better job of absorbing the institutional knowledge and context before
showing up with brand-spanking new ways of doing things that may not be a good
fit. Meredith Farkas’ fairly recent editorial piece in American
Libraries comes to mind.
I agree that listening
to seasoned librarians is essential and that overzealous young librarians may
favor change at all costs rather than smart change that is a good fit to their
institutional context. However, in exploring my dialogues with M, I want to
draw attention to the fact that there needs to be reciprocity between
generations of librarians. Ageism cuts several ways. Or put in a
less-like-academic-speak-way, I listened to M because they listened to me. M
didn't necessarily agree. M would frequently advocate for their point of view. But
at least M was willing to entertain that I had something to offer and that they
might want to rethink their preconceptions. I felt heard by M and this made me
feel less alone in that particular workplace.
I knew for sure that M
listened to me when I made a comment about some strategic plan language
sounding "outdated” during a meeting. Two librarians who had drafted this
particular piece of language looked at me funny. It would not be a stretch to
say that they gave each other a knowing look and then glared. M, who was the
oldest by several years, said that what they thought I was trying to say was
that the language had become so commonplace that it no longer sounded
fresh. Which was exactly what I was trying to say. Perhaps it would have
been wiser, in a way, to say "clichéd" though I might have sounded
more judgmental. Honestly, I would rather sound harsh than ageist.
So I wish that the
younger me had been more careful with my words, though it was kind of a
"damned if you do, damned if you don't situation." But mainly,
the older me is grateful towards M for mirroring back what I was trying to say
and grateful towards the younger me for at least being wise enough to sometimes
realize the importance of listening. So listen, young librarians and seek out
colleagues who are also willing to listen.
Michele Santamaria is
the Learning Design Librarian at Millersville University. She is also happy to
say that she is the Subject Librarian for English, foreign languages, and
Latin@ Studies. While she has published in other genres, this is her first real
blog post. She tweets at @infolitmaven.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Dealing With Self-Important Concern Trolls
"I believe that we owe our fellow human beings a certain amount of compassion and courtesy and respect, and to listen to their complaints and grievances. We should ask ourselves whether those complaints and grievances are valid, and whether we can help - and in some cases, ask whether we are the author of those grievances, and if so what can we do to resolve them.
But I also believe that after a certain point, it may become obvious that some people just want to complain, to to be angry, or to be an asshole, or whatever, and that nothing a reasonable person can do will ever make those people happy or satisfied. So you give them a quarter, metaphorically or otherwise, and tell them to call someone who cares. Because you have other things to do. And then you go on doing those things you need to do."
~John Scalzi, from "Here's a Quarter"I know I'm a little behind with reacting to the above quoted piece. I can show you my work calendar some time if you want an explanation. Regardless, I was glad of the serendipity of finally getting a chance to read that blog post from John Scalzi last week, because I really needed that advice. You see, In the Library with the Lead Pipe published the article I wrote with Michelle Millet last Wednesday, and as happens whenever anything about gender and empowerment is published, we had a few "but what about the mens?" type comments. In short, while we were discussing the disparity between the gender breakdown of librarianship as a whole (roughly 80% women and 20% men) and our leadership (roughly 60% women and 40% men), someone was upset that we weren't talking about how librarianship is only 20% men.
There was some discussion, but best response came from one of the Lead Pipe editors:
@gjfowler @libraryleadpipe @olinj @winelibrarian IMO not all disparities are same; power disparities matter more than mere numerical ones
— Ian Beilin (@ibeilin) November 4, 2015
Even if I'd wanted to discuss numerical disparities, there's only so much one can fit in a short article... especially one in which my coauthor and I specifically stated that we were speaking specifically from our frame of reference. But here's the thing: this happens every time an article on a controversial topic or even a marginally controversial topic comes out. Write an article about the experiences of indigenous people and you'll get some self-important concern troll asking why the author hadn't mentioned the experiences of other people of color. An article about transgender men will inevitably get angry comments about how hard it is to be a cisgendered gay man. Any piece about the problems of existing within Community A gets at least a couple of responses yelling about what a crime that the authors ignored Community B. Of course this happened to us. I was glad that Ian responded, but I barely engaged with the naysayers. It's not that I'm going to quiet myself or try to pretend that I'm a meek woman (can you imagine?), but I only have so much energy for problem solving.And that brings me back to the quote up at the start of this post. I'm not advocating that you turn the other cheek. Definitely defend yourself if attacked. But remember that some people - like the "what about the mens" concern trolls - aren't ever going to be satisfied. So offer them the proverbial quarter so they can call someone who cares, and then show them the exit.
source |
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Just For Fun: Movie Quote Lexicon
FREQUENTLY USED MOVIE QUOTES IN MY PERSONAL LEXICON ✚ https://t.co/TzAhXW1ELb
— Rebecca Schinsky (@RebeccaSchinsky) October 29, 2015
That tweet up there got me thinking about how often movie quotes work themselves into my lexicon. Some of them I use so much that I have occasionally forgotten where/how I started using them. I thought it would be fun to follow Rebecca's lead, and come up with a list of my most frequently used movie quotes. (I could probably write an equally lengthy post about language I've borrowed from books and another one about television shows, but not yet.)
"It must be indicative of something besides the redistribution of wealth."
This quote is from one of my all time favorite movies (that was based on a play by Tom Stoppard): Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. I used it as shorthand for things that don't make sense but feel like they should make sense. And let's be honest: in higher ed and libraries, that feeling comes up a lot.
"This ain't my first time at the rodeo!"
When I tell people that I quote Mommie Dearest on the regular, everyone always thinks wire hangers. How is that useful in everyday conversation, huh? On the other hand, I have frequent opportunity to respond to someone who thinks I'm a newb when I'm not. What better way to express that than...
"It's a moral imperative."
Real Genius is one of my favorite movies from the 1980s. Like many movies from that era, I know it practically by heart. There are lots of other times I quote this fantastically 80s movie, but this comes up most often.
This quote comes up when I'm trying to talk someone into something they really want to do anyway.
"Who the f*** are you, man?"
There are so very many quotes from The Big Lebowski that are part of what I say daily. That comes up most often, but I've also been known to say:
"Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man."
"Obviously you're not a golfer."
"You're not wrong, Walter. You're just an a**hole."
"Hey, nice marmot!"
But the most frequent quote is definitely from the scene where The Dude meets Knox Harrington. It's a useful internal dialogue I have with myself when random vendors cold call me.
"So I got that goin' for me, which is nice."
One of the all time most quotable movies, am I right? Caddyshack is also a guaranteed cheer up, feel good movie, even with all the misogyny and classism.
That line, though. So useful in so many circumstances, but most especially helpful when things are kinda crappy and I'm trying to make a joke of it.
So how about you? What movie quotes do you use regularly?
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Interview: Derrick Jefferson
Name?
Derrick Jefferson
Current job?
Communication Librarian in Research, Teaching, and Learning. American University, Washington, DC
How long have you been in the field?
Started library school and service hours at various libraries as part of my program in 2010, completed MLIS in 2012.
How Do You Work?
What is your office/workspace like?
I have a corner cube where I can spread out a bit, phone, pens, books, headphones, etc., all at an arm’s reach. The bulk of my instruction colleagues, as well as the supervisors of our Research, Teaching, and Learning unit, are nearby. I often will pass through the admin office to say hello and check in with technical services. I may do this a couple times a day as a reminder to get up and away from my desk, and to encourage and maintain dialogue with other departments and units for which I have the utmost respect; there’s no way that I can do the job I do without the efforts of others who work so well and seamlessly with myself and others in research and instruction. At my actual workspace? Headphones, tunes, water bottle, post-its.
How do you organize your days?
There’s a lot of email wrangling. I’m sure
that’s prevalent for many folks, not just those of us in libraries. I check in
regularly with my faculty to make sure books, resources, course reserves, and
so on, are up to snuff or if there are new titles/products that should be on my
radar.
What do you spend most of your time doing?
I spend a lot of time planning and working on my instructional load for the School of Communication students and performing other liaison duties for that school. Between that and prepping for classes, and individual appointments with my students, that’s the bulk of my day! I’ve been surprised in the time I’ve been here at AU that many of my appointments are working with graduate students. Some are working as GA’s for faculty and their respective research and others are just returning students who’ve been out of school for ten or twenty years so research and libraries are different from what they remember. Getting them back on track and familiar with the resources we have is important.
What is a typical day like for you?
I’ve been here at AU for a little over two years, and now that I’m settled in, I focus primarily on instruction with students, supporting my faculty, and tending to the research needs of both within the School of Communication. With that, my typical day is rather atypical. But there is email, meetings with various teams and colleagues, collection development, and staying on top of new trends and things happening in the field. I also keep one foot rooted in diversity and inclusion issues on campus and in the profession as well.
What are you reading right now?
Everything! I used to be a very dedicated reader
because it helped me with my writing, but after returning to school and reading
mostly textbooks and academic articles, I had to abandon it. I’m really excited
about writing again and reading good work gets me there in terms of
inspiration. I just read the most fantastic short story called “Charity” from a
short story collection by Charles Baxter called, There’s Something I Want You to Do. There’s this amazing shift in the narrative halfway through the story
that I just loved. Masterful. I’ve also really enjoyed Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot
See, and I’m nearly done with Morrison’s God Help the Child. She is just so powerful
and skillful with how she uses language and voice. I miss the verve of her
earlier work, but I feel like I see a lot of it in this new novel. Lots on my
to-read shelf: Purity, Americanah, Drown, Everything Ravaged,
Everything Burned, A Brief History of
Seven Killings, A Little Life, and in non-fiction Between the World and
Me, Ghettoside, and Negroland.
What's the best professional advice you've ever received?
Someone told me once, essentially: What makes
you a good librarian was already in place before you ever thought about
becoming a librarian. All the tools were already there. In hindsight, I think
that’s true. I try to be kind but firm, honest but real, exercise compassion
and consideration because we all know what it’s like to lose, to suffer, to be
on the outside looking in. It sounds cliché, but I chalk it up to my parents
who worked so hard so that I could have the life I’ve had. I mean, “I’ve seen
fire and I’ve seen rain,” to quote James Taylor, but I love what I do; I
honestly do.
What have you found yourself doing at work that you never expected?
Buying games. Board games, video games, old
consoles and cartridges from eBay, Ticket to Ride, Game of Thrones games, Twister. It’s cool and I love
being able to support our new gaming master’s program. I’ve had to learn a lot
rather quickly with how our program approaches gaming which isn’t say,
designing games to be a game designer, but looking at how something like Pandemic can be seen as an analog
and teaching tool to say the recent Ebola outbreak from last year. It’s pretty
great.
Inside the Library Studio
What is your favorite word?
What is your least favorite word?
Entitlement.
What profession other than your own would you love to attempt?
Part of me still thinks I’m somewhat of a pastry
chef. I enjoy cooking and am very ambitious once I’m ready to make things
happen in my apron. I thought about culinary school but I don’t know if I want
my enjoyment of food things to extend beyond my current hobby status. I went to
film school before I became a librarian and in many ways having that kind of
insight into something can alter your perception and enjoyment of it. With
that, I always thought I’d be a great pharmacist. I enjoy working with and
helping people and I think working with people in that capacity...kind of like
a doctor, but not a doctor would be
pretty awesome.
What profession would you never want to attempt?
Prison guard.
Everything Else
What superpower do you wish you had?
The ability to take away someone’s pain.
What are you most proud of in your career?
Interestingly, it’s not one big thing or event,
though there have been some great moments and achievements. I honestly am proud
of the opportunity to engage with someone in the midst of a research dilemma and
to witness when they “get it”. Something clicks and you can see it in their
eyes. People come to you in crisis, right? At the last minute and feeling like
they’re painted into a corner, which is awful. But even then, seeing someone
back down from the ledge a bit when they realize that they’ve figured out how
to make the assignment or capstone or dissertation happen; how to find the
citations and articles and books that will ensure the literature review is
going to work, or their term paper. I think people have a pretty set definition
on what a librarian is, and I’m probably not that at all. We can do a lot of things and helping people? I’m pretty
proud of that.
If you're willing to share, tell about a mistake you made on the job.
This isn’t really a mistake, but almost four
years out from my library degree, there’s still so much I don’t know much
about. Scholarly communication, governance issues, open access, grants, impact
factors; some of it is just the nature of higher education, but there is a lot of
crossover with academic libraries. In some ways I feel woefully ignorant of how
that aspect of the job works and I owe it to myself as well as my faculty, to
stay current on these things as it certainly informs the work we do. [Editor's Note: I'm almost 13 years out from my degree program, and there's still so much *I* don't know. I think most of us feel that way, at least if we're being honest.]
When you aren't at work, what are you likely doing?
I love music. So I’m almost always cruising
around either in real life or online for used records. I grew up on hip-hop,
just as it was springing forth as a cultural art form. But I can’t keep up with
a lot of the new stuff, so I listen to 80’s and 90’s golden age stuff. Also, a
lot of soul, funk, and groove tunes. Lately, I’ve been in a big jazz frame of
mind getting lost in Miles and Coltrane and Monk. And Nina. Always Nina Simone.
I do love the physical act of playing a record and playing it through.
Who else would you like to see answer these questions?
Shawn Calhoun, Eamon Tewell, Gina Murrell. Three
people I only really kind of know through social media circles, but admire and
would love to know more about.
Derrick Jefferson is on Twitter as @geekandahalf.
Derrick Jefferson is on Twitter as @geekandahalf.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
A Little Bit About the Importance of Peers
source |
Only a short post this week, but it's a bit of a do-over. Yes, I'm going to revisit a topic. But it's been on my mind again, so I want to write about mentoring. Specifically I want to talk about peer mentoring. I've found my groove at work this semester, and I never would have been able to do that without a broad group of people who supported me in one way or another. Lately, I've been relying a lot on fellow library administrators. Before that, I had a good network of instruction librarians.
Yes, we need the support of those who've gone before. The last library director I worked for prior to becoming one myself helped me take this step, and still helps me sometimes. But as important as that assistance was, in some ways the people who tell you to be gentle with yourself are even more important. And that's what peers do for you. When you make a mistake, peer mentors are the ones who remind you that you really were trying your hardest. When you have a triumph, peer mentors are the ones who stop you from denigrating your accomplishments. We need peer mentors because they keep us honest.
What about you? What have your peer mentors done for you?
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Letter to a Young Alt-Ac Librarian: Yes, We’re Out There!, by Laura Braunstein
source |
Note: While I had been working on
a guest post to send Jessica for some time, I was inspired to respond to a recent post from Abigail Phillips, who wrote,
“Librarians with PhDs have so much to offer the practitioner world of
librarianship. We just have to figure out how to promote our degree as an
advantage not a disadvantage. It sounds weird to say that having a doctorate
opens a lot of doors, because it closes almost as many. I wonder if there are
other LIS PhDers like me out there.”
For many young librarians — young at heart,
if not young in years — librarianship is a career change. Pursuing a library
career may come after years committed to academia — perhaps the young librarian
has completed a master’s or PhD, and has heard about or experienced too much
misery on the dismal job market to invest a single additional
second looking for a tenure-track faculty position. That’s what happened to me
shortly after the beginning of this century.
Flash back nearly fifteen years: I finished
my doctorate in Victorian literature and, after years as a student, I was
burned out. I had taken an interesting job with a scholarly non-profit, but I
wanted to be back on a university campus. One day I stumbled upon a column in the Chronicle of Higher
Education by Todd Gilman, then as now the English librarian at
Yale. In a series of posts, Todd extolled the benefits and challenges of
librarianship for PhDs who were looking for a career change. This was a
revelation — I wanted to work in higher education, but not as a professor. I
wanted to teach, but not to grade. I wanted to work with information,
knowledge, and research — but also with people. Within hours of reading Todd’s
column, I signed up for an open house at a library science program that was tailored to the
schedules of working professionals. In a year and a half, I finished my
master’s degree (I was privileged, in a sense, to have had a decent credit
rating and to qualify for loans that I’m still paying off.). After a reasonably
challenging but not disheartening job search, I began working as a librarian in
a position where I support and engage with teaching, learning, and
research.
What has changed since then for recent PhDs
who are interested in librarianship? What is now known as the alt-ac
(for “alternative academic”) movement has reared its desperately needed head.
While PhDs in the sciences have always had non-academic opportunities, faculty
are now more willing to advise doctoral students in the humanities and social
sciences regarding alternative careers, and to direct students to
campus resources for “versatile PhDs.” These days, many LIS
programs are now wholly or partly online, opening access to far more
potential students.
So, if you’re a recently minted PhD, ABD, or
MA, and you’ve decided to pivot over to librarianship, what should you do?
Informational interviewing. Ask the librarians you know (and I hope you
know them if you’re in a PhD program) about their career paths. Find out how
many different kinds of librarianship there are — something I didn’t know when
I started. Your doctoral program activities may suggest a career path. Did you
teach first-year writing? You may find many of your interests shared by
information literacy programs. Did you do descriptive bibliography? You may
want to be a cataloguer. Did you edit an open-access journal of graduate
student scholarship? Look into being a scholarly communications librarian. Did
you develop a digital humanities project? Many libraries are hiring not only DH
librarians, but programmers and data visualizers.
Research. You’re good at that. Find out what LIS
programs are available in your area. Can you get credit for your PhD
coursework? Are you eligible for scholarships from ALA or other professional organizations? Look into
opportunities at your current university. Can you job-shadow, intern, or
volunteer on a library project? Can you take a temporary or support staff
position to learn more about how libraries work as organizations?
Read. You’re very good at that. Read articles in
the Journal of Academic Librarianship, Portal: Libraries and the Academy, and C&RL News.
If you’re here at Letters to a Young Librarian, you’ve already
found a great source of advice, but there are many more blogs out there. A few
of my favorites are Hack Library School, In
the Library with the Lead Pipe, Library BabelFish, ACRLog, and Beerbrarian.
Join and Socially Mediate. What was your specialty in graduate school?
There is probably a branch of librarianship focusing on that subject, with its
own professional community, including the ACRL Literatures in English Section, SALALM, and (the
other) MLA.
Many of these groups have their own Facebook pages and Twitter feeds, and
provide formal and informal mentoring programs. Your state library association or ACRL chapter could provide networking and grant
opportunities. Twitter is a great place to start library-career conversations;
every Tuesday evening at 8pm EST is #libchat, and the #altac community is well represented.
Good luck in your career transition. We need
you at the library.
Laura Braunstein is the Digital
Humanities and English Librarian at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH. Find her
on Twitter at @laurabrarian.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Ode to My Guest Authors
Something weird happened to me recently, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But first, let me show you what I mean:
Truly humbled by the support I received from @olinj while writing this & from so many people on here who've read it http://t.co/bmJKVYA4sW
— Jessica (@schomj) October 9, 2015
That tweet from the author of the last guest post... it startled me. I guess it never occured to me that I have an option of not supporting and assisting someone who is willing to write for my blog. Yes, I've had some success, and this blog has become somewhat of a platform for me, but I wouldn't have made it past that first year if not for the guest bloggers. LtaYL is well over the half million views mark (about 200k of those in the last year alone), but those stats are more a testament to the people who give me their time and words than they are to me. Each and every one of those guest authors have done me a favor, so why wouldn't I support them?
I've been writing this blog for a long-ish while now. When I started, I had one goal for Letters to a Young Librarian: "to break down the barriers between library schools & students and professional librarians." Somewhere along the way, that goal expanded to breaking down other barriers: between kinds of libraries, between administration and frontline librarians, between professional and paraprofessional, and those barriers we somehow build between and among ourselves.
It's that last goal that has become my most important focus. Collaboration and cooperation are crucial for libraries, no matter the communities we serve. The key, though, is not just talking but also listening. It really needs to be a conversation. Besides, I learn so much when people write for this blog. I get to listen to their experiences. I get to give them a venue so that others can listen.
So, you're welcome Jessica Schomberg, but also thank you.
So, you're welcome Jessica Schomberg, but also thank you.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
My (Library) Life with Invisible Disabilities, by Jessica Schomberg
My first job in libraries was as a page in a public library.
Shortly after I started, a librarian tried to have me fired because I have
diabetes. This isn’t speculation, this was the actual reason given. And while
this occurred after the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed, it was well
before the passage of the 2008 Amendments, which explicitly covers people like
me, who can mitigate our condition with medication. Fortunately for me, the
library director had been diagnosed with diabetes the week before, or my life
story might have gone in a very different direction.
(Are you wondering, dear reader, whether I got diabetes
because I’m an “innocent victim” or because I “deserved it”? You’re not the
first. Keep reading.)
This blog post was prompted by several things. By Ta-Nehisi
Coates’s Between the World and Me,
which presents an embodied view of discrimination. By a blog post by Netanel Ganin (@OpOpinions)
in which he talks about disabilities as a social construct rather than a
medical one, a post which has caused me to completely rethink who I am in this
world. But it was mostly due to Jessica Olin’s use of anime eyes in her call for blog posts.
Who can resist anime eyes?
How do you cure a social ill? How do you define people with
disabilities? How do you make libraries accessible to people with disabilities?
I have struggled for a long time about whether or not to identify as disabled.
By calling myself disabled, am I being disrespectful to my sister, who has very
visible disabilities and whose economic and career prospects are impossibly
constrained? I have a job that I enjoy: I can accumulate savings: I can “pass.”
And after all, it’s only when my body doesn’t work “normally” that I feel
disabled… or is it?
About a decade after I was not fired from my first library
job, after receiving my shiny MLIS, I was looking for full-time library jobs
(like you do). And one of the people who worked at one of the places I
interviewed told me not to disclose my medical history or I wouldn’t be hired.
Not because I wasn’t qualified (I was), not because I didn’t have a good
performance record (I did), but because I occasionally need to take time to
keep my body working in its ideal condition and that makes people uncomfortable.
(No, dear reader, I’m not going to name that library. Just
imagine it’s where you work, because that’s close enough to the truth.)
Now, fast forward another decade, and I am employed in a
satisfying career and now also supervise, mentor, or otherwise provide
leadership to a team that includes other people with disabilities. Knowing what
I know about living with my own disabilities, living in a world where I am/we
are repeatedly identified as sub-optimal, what does that mean for me-as-leader?
It means:
- Recognizing that control is an illusion.
- Recognizing that different people with disabilities are first and foremost different people. Not all people with disabilities are magically going to get along. Not all disabilities are the same. I try to go into conversations by asking what people need to succeed, what impediments they’re dealing with, and by discussing work expectations of ourselves and others. If someone doesn’t trust me enough to share that, I try to work with people they do trust to make sure they have the resources and support they need even if it’s not coming from me. To re-state: making sure that the people on my team have what they need to do their jobs is more important than being either rule-bound or being recognized as their rescuer.
- Recognizing that many of us have swallowed the idea that productivity is more important than people. [Editor’s Note: Yes!] This sometimes means explicitly pointing out when work expectations are unreasonable, or harmful, or cause us to miss opportunities. If we’re not willing to examine how some of our practices exclude co-workers from full participation, how are we going to be mindful of our users? And vice versa.
- Recognizing that I’ve swallowed the same delusions that non-disabled people have. From another angle, recognizing that I’m part of my team. My energy level varies greatly depending on what’s going on with my body or how untenable I’ve let my schedule become. I have spent decades trying to “pass” or “overcome” my disabilities. I’m not sure that the profession would have let me in if I hadn’t done those things, but now that I’m in a leadership position I feel an obligation to call out that expectation. That means letting my coworkers who have emotional leadership skills do that work without feeling the need to be Mr./Ms./Mx. Amazing Perfect Leader. It also means allowing myself to take the breaks I need without beating myself up. Because I’ve internalized those messages about normality and productivity, this is sometimes incredibly hard for me. It is thanks to many kind, generous, and sensible library folk on Twitter that I’ve been able to make progress on this.
- Resisting the urge to bop people on the nose when they say “everyone has a disability.” No. They don’t. I suck at math, but I haven’t been almost fired for sucking at math. I haven’t had to fight with insurance companies for the medicine that keeps me alive because I suck at math. I haven’t had to restrict my activities and monitor every aspect of my daily life because I suck at math. I have to do all that because my immune system killed my pancreas.
(We’re at the end, dear reader. And going back to the first
question, I’m not a victim unless you make me one. And no one deserves
diabetes, or any other type of chronic illness.)
For more on this topic, see Susan Wendell’s The Rejected Body: Feminist Philosophical
Reflections on Disability.
Jessica Schomberg is currently serving as Library Services Department
Chair at Minnesota State University, Mankato, where her other hats include
Media Cataloger and Assessment Coordinator. She tweets as @schomj.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Continuity or Revolution: Choose Your Own Adventure
A little while ago I saw this tweet:
This strikes me as deeply relevant to libraries and librarians. Bringing this idea down to the day-to-day level, I don't think continuity is the worst thing in the world. We librarians are human (well, most of us are) who are supporting the needs of our community, who are also human, and humans tend not to like change. I'm including myself in this category. Unexpected change can bring both sleep and tummy troubles. And yet, I also consider myself an innovator. Practical innovation is a particular passion of mine. Seeing that tweet and subsequently learning about Kuhn has me thinking about change in libraries and higher education, and about how it happens both quickly and slowly. It also has me thinking about how we bring about how we and our communities react to them.
So what am I trying to say here? I guess it's that we need to be mindful of our own practices and preferences, but also recognize that not everyone feels the same. I've heard "because we've always done it that way" used in so many different ways. For some it's, "but I'm open to other ways of doing it." For others it's, "and I'm really afraid of changing because I'm a slow learner and I know how to do it this way." And yet others mean it to say, "and can we please change it yesterday?" Whether you're a stalwart champion of the status quo; or a tinkerer who makes things incrementally better; or are the Galileo of the library world who is going to cause upheaval on an inconceivable level... think about that question up there every once in a while. Think about our preference for continuity - not as a bad thing nor as a good one - before you choose the next step.
"How much of what seems real or reasonable to you is decided by a preference for continuity?" - a question for everyone including scientists
— Drew (@MostlyPregnant) August 26, 2015
I shared that with a friend who then introduced me to the idea of "Kuhnian Paradigm Shift." Thomas Kuhn was a philosopher who looked at scientific development. He proposed that, unlike what had been conceived previously (and what I mostly learned in k-12, decades after his most important work, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions was published), that scientific progress is not a steady thing. Rather than being an inevitable march forward, science goes through longer periods of tinkering and refinement, interspersed with major upheaval.This strikes me as deeply relevant to libraries and librarians. Bringing this idea down to the day-to-day level, I don't think continuity is the worst thing in the world. We librarians are human (well, most of us are) who are supporting the needs of our community, who are also human, and humans tend not to like change. I'm including myself in this category. Unexpected change can bring both sleep and tummy troubles. And yet, I also consider myself an innovator. Practical innovation is a particular passion of mine. Seeing that tweet and subsequently learning about Kuhn has me thinking about change in libraries and higher education, and about how it happens both quickly and slowly. It also has me thinking about how we bring about how we and our communities react to them.
So what am I trying to say here? I guess it's that we need to be mindful of our own practices and preferences, but also recognize that not everyone feels the same. I've heard "because we've always done it that way" used in so many different ways. For some it's, "but I'm open to other ways of doing it." For others it's, "and I'm really afraid of changing because I'm a slow learner and I know how to do it this way." And yet others mean it to say, "and can we please change it yesterday?" Whether you're a stalwart champion of the status quo; or a tinkerer who makes things incrementally better; or are the Galileo of the library world who is going to cause upheaval on an inconceivable level... think about that question up there every once in a while. Think about our preference for continuity - not as a bad thing nor as a good one - before you choose the next step.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Just For Fun: Fire Bad, Tree Pretty
Here's the thing about being a fan of BtVS: it's a kind of equalizer. People who watched it when it was originally broadcast as well as people who are just finding it now have this lovely thing in common. It's not just the memories of Cordelia hating then loving then hating Xander, no. It's also about a common vocabulary. I once said, "Fire bad. Tree Pretty," to a friend, and he knew exactly what I meant (which was that I was too tired from doing hard but important work to have a coherent conversation). That's the best part of being a member of a fandom: the common vocabulary. I'm not going to try to convince you to watch this show. If you've clicked through to read this, I'm assuming you've already seen it. I'm assuming you love this show, too.
Now, let's talk about what makes it so fab:
Rupert Giles
He's a librarian. He's British. He's hilarious.
William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike
Let's be 100% clear: when it comes to all of Buffy's many love/sex interests, I have always been and will always be Team Spike. He's more fun than any of the rest. He values her for her, plus let's not forget that fantastic leather coat.
Anya
Also, I adore Anya. From her fear of bunnies to her love of capitalism, she was a great part of the show.
Once More With Feeling
And then there's the music episode. Yes, I know all the words to all the songs by heart. Yes, even "They Got The Mustard Out."
So how about you? Did I include your favorite thing about the show? If I missed it, let me know in the comments.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Lifting One Another Up
I was recently asked to describe my ideal job, and the first thing that came to mind was that I want to work somewhere that I can help support and promote and lift up others, but especially other library professionals. I was fortunate to work for some amazing library directors and with some truly supportive coworkers, so I know this isn't a unique perspective. I'll never forget the time my director at my immediate past job sat me down and said something like, "We've talked before about how I can help you do your job better, but today I'd like to ask you how I can help you progress in your career." It blew my mind, really. And that conversation was fortunately timed, because it was shortly after I'd started to get the inkling that I might want to be a library director myself. I confessed to that ambition and he responded along the lines of, "okay, let's get you ready to apply for those jobs," and gave me a specific lists of things I needed to cultivate. He even pulled me into meetings with vendors so I could get an idea of what to expect.
I've tried to live up to their examples as best I could, to support and build up the people who work for me and who turn to me for advice. I've always felt this was important, this is what we're supposed to do. This ideal is so much a part of my day to day that I frequently forget it's not everyone's ideal. I was abruptly reminded by a recent post from The Library Loon, "Building One Another Up." It's worth a read, but I think the most important passage is:
"It is so easy to tear people down. So easy. It is so hard to build them up, not least when that option hardly seems to be on the table."So let's do it. Let's put this option on the table. Let's talk about ways administration can support their staff:
- Making sure everyone has professional development opportunities, even if it means giving up our own opportunities on occasion.
- Not taking credit for the ideas of others when things go well.
- Taking some of the blame when things don't go well.
- Working to and with people's strengths.
Let's talk about ways to support coworkers:
- Offering help as often as we ask for it.
- Being open and friendly about things when we disagree.
- Concentrate on behaviors and not personality traits when things go wrong.
- Sharing the spotlight.
- Phrasing things kindly and honestly when giving feedback.
Am I always a paragon of these kinds of behaviors? No. I'll admit to that time I basically told a coworker to shut up. I'll also admit that communicating with different kinds of people within the realm of libraries was a learning curve for me. But my instincts are to be kind and supportive.
What are some ways you've built people up?
Thursday, September 24, 2015
The Long and Winding Road to Librarianship, by Natalie DeJonghe
source |
Once upon a time, in a land far
away, I was a high school English teacher. At the ripe old age of 22 I was
convinced I had my life plan all worked out. Teach long enough to work off my
fellowship, get my MA and then my PhD in literature, teach college, and live
happily ever after in academia. I really enjoyed teaching and was lucky enough
to have student taught in a school with a great staff and administration, so
this plan seemed completely feasible.
I like to think I was a fairly
decent teacher and that I did some good in the world. But that wasn’t the whole
story. There was a teacher in my department that I did not get along with; we
will call her Ms. PITA. She had a tendency to run students out
of her class which left her with classes of 11 or 12 students while other
teachers were handling classes of 35. I was not subtle about the fact that I
thought this was complete and utter crap that placed an underserved burden on
me and my colleagues. My colleagues told me they appreciated my willingness to
say things no one else would. My principal, on the other hand, told me I wasn’t
a team player. Five years of repeatedly being told I wasn’t a team player and
that I had a bad attitude. Five years of listening to that while absolutely
nothing was done about the fact that Ms. PITA wasn’t pulling her weight and was
bullying kids out of her classes. So I left.
I moved back home and through a
series of very fortunate events I ended up in librarianship. I was excited for
a fresh start in a new career. Only this time, I was determined to be more of a
team player. And what my principal had taught me was that being a team player
meant keeping my mouth shut and my head down. So that’s what I did. I went to
work, I did my job, I didn’t volunteer for things and I didn’t want to be
involved. I was my own little island of librarianship. So I had a great new
career plan, go to work: answer reference questions, get my MLIS, and spend the
rest of my days as a librarian.
There was, however, one small snag in my plan.
One of the problems currently plaguing librarianship is that there are a whole
lot of librarians and not a whole lot of full-time positions. With many
libraries receiving less funding, full-time positions are decreasing in favor
of having multiple part-time staff. This was the situation in my library. We
had five reference librarians, one full-time and four part-time. Our full-time
librarian was a middle aged guy who had no intention of leaving anytime soon so
my chance of advancement was zero.
After I got the degree,I started
looking for full-time jobs and was very fortunate to come across the position I
now have. When I first started, I referred to myself as a “sort of” librarian.
My job involves doing a lot of training for library staff and deals exclusively
with e-books. I have zero contact with print books in my job and work in an
office building instead of a library. I had my degree and I worked with
libraries but didn’t really feel like I was a librarian and, to a certain
extent, I felt like I was trespassing when trying to find my place in the
field. But to be honest, this didn’t bother me a great deal at first because I
was happy being my own little island.
This has
changed for the better over the last two years as I inadvertently became less
and less of an island, mainly through the influence of my boss and Twitter.
I’ve met a lot of people, many not working in traditional library positions,
and became involved in a number of projects and committees. After five years of
being in the field, I finally feel like I’m a legitimate part of it. I think
this is something that many people in the field struggle with, especially those
coming to librarianship as a second career.
There is no short and simple
checklist of what makes a librarian. No one size fits all job description or
clearly marked path from start to finish. These are not bad things but they are
things that can make it difficult for people to feel like they have a place
where they belong in the field. It’s important to remember that just because
your job doesn’t look like someone else’s idea of what librarianship is,
doesn’t mean you don’t belong.
Natalie DeJonghe is the e-book trainer/coordinator for the eRead Illinois project where she enjoys smooshing her education and librarianship backgrounds together in all manner of entertaining ways. She tweets as @InkyLibrarian.