source |
Note: This post is related by
a conference proposal I submitted to ACRLNY’s 2016 Symposium Money & Power.
Catalogers establish and/or
apply names to library materials as part of their work. After reading a lot of
Hope Olson’s work, I realized that power
to name has me questioning even more. Who actually does have the power and
authority to name? Does literary warrant privilege the naming protocols of
certain communities over others? Is a professional reliance on the Library of
Congress, which relies on Congressional funding for its continued existence,
the best idea if we really want to question the power to name in our
application of theory?
Two things that I am mindful
of when I think about this sort of thing are the role of Imposter Syndrome and
Dunning-Kruger (thanks to Jessica Olin for prompting me on the latter).
Imposter syndrome describes the phenomenon in which high-achieving
people can’t recognize their own achievements because, in their view, their
flaws loom too large. Research points to some common
characteristics in those who experience this. As children, they were often
either told that their social skills compensate for their intellectual deficiencies,
or told that they don’t have to work hard to learn new things, which is
eventually contradicted by reality. As adults, there are lots of things they do
that keep them feeling this way: diligence, hard work, and a tendency to
over-prepare that often leads to burnout; a need to please their supervisors
and avoid conflict, which enhances their self-perception as fake because their
ideas aren’t tested and because of their dependence on others’ approval; and
avoiding displays of confidence, fearing that they’ll be found out or receive
societal disapproval. For people in historically oppressed populations, this is
enhanced by a double-bind dilemma.
This leads to a fear of challenging the status quo, even
when we are negatively affected by it. To make it more personal (and
therefore a bit more real): when I interact with certain areas of the Library
of Congress Subject Headings and Classification schedules - about sexuality and
illness/disability - it sometimes feels like I’m on the receiving end of microaggressions both as a cataloger and a patron.
I remember similar feelings when I was a high school student using the religion
section of my public library to research Buddhism, which in Dewey Decimal
Classification, was relegated to a tiny number with odd neighbors.
The Dunning-Kruger effect occurs when people overestimate how much they
know. (It may also lead people to overestimate how easy a particular task is
for others.) This results in a pattern in which, because people can’t recognize
their own lack of skill, they also can’t recognize when others are skilled in
that area. With training, people can recognize their past ignorance, but the
problem is most people won’t voluntarily undertake training in an area in which
they think they’re already competent.
This can lead to well-intentioned
people mistakenly making decisions about areas with which they’re not as
familiar as they think they are. In a cataloging context, this means creating
subject headings that maintain oppressive perspectives and creating
classification hierarchies that place things in areas where they don’t belong.
This may also mean not creating
subject headings or classification numbers for things that are effectively
invisible to the cataloger, or contrary to (Congressionally) established norms.
What now?
I don’t really know. How do
we as a profession help each other overcome Imposter Syndrome, so we can feel
confident – and safe – enough to challenge oppressive systems? How do we as a
profession help each other to recognize Dunning-Kruger at play?
I’ve learned a lot by
watching baby-brarians question things on twitter. (Seriously, follow a few
MLIS students on social media if you’re not already. They question everything.
It’s wonderful.) I’ve also learned a lot by deliberately following librarians
who work in libraries that aren’t like mine, librarians who don’t work in
libraries at all, library workers who aren’t “credentialed” librarians. Seeking
out this kind of learning is one reason I follow many librarians of color,
librarians with disabilities, and GLBTQIA+ identifying librarians who ask a lot
of questions and point out a lot of problems that I didn’t notice before I
engaged in social media. They are helping me question things I had become too
accustomed to. And things I was too scared to question. This post = a
knees-rattling attempt to overcome my own Imposter Syndrome and Dunning-Kruger
tendencies.
How about you? How do you
combat these tendencies?
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. This is her second post for LtaYL. The first was “My (Library)
Life with Invisible Disabilities.” She tweets as @schomj.
DO you have recommendations of anyone in particular to follow?
ReplyDeleteI'm going to limit recommendations to 20 people whose accounts aren't locked -- which of course means I am going to overlook some awesome people with this list (apologies in advance!) and ...
ReplyDelete@Luna_Dee
@edrabinski
@pennyb
@Tuphlos
@mariataccardi
@OpOnions
@GinaMurrell1
@mxbees
@EamonTewell
@violetbfox
@elliehearts
@RoxanneShirazi
@ruthbrarian
@sujeilugo
@jvinopal
@SoulCitySigma
@debreese
@AprilHathcock
@mchris4duke
@geekandahalf
DeleteI'd add:
@bergisjules
@edsu
@sam_winn
@jmddrake
@ablwr
@eiratansey