[Editor’s note: “prolegomena” means prefatory
remarks.]
Upon beginning my first full-time professional
librarian gig, I was neither young nor did I consider myself a librarian (hold
onto your dreams, aspiring archivists!). I had been dabbling in different
industries, each of which required varying work ethics, displays of
organizational prowess, and feats of mental determination. Oh, how I dabbled.
Thus, being a full-fledged adult worker, bearing an advanced degree and all the
gumption of a novice, I unwittingly hauled along some tacit assumptions about
how to get s*#^ done.
And then came that first year.
You will want to do things. You will be excited
and you will want to summon forth that energy to prove your mettle and
efficiency. You will want to tackle project after project. You will want to
advocate for the library’s value in your effectiveness and passion as a worker.
You will want to help and you will want to improve.
Then you will hit that first organizational brick
wall. And once you’ve picked yourself up from that, you will trip over a
smaller, second brick wall. And once you’re done cursing brick walls, you’ll scurry
through a dust storm, step a little too deep into that mud puddle, and wonder
why the hell there are so many traffic cones surrounding you.
Welcome to the odd and wonderful, oft infuriating
and anachronistic, world of libraries. We fidget at a nexus of competing
energies and agendas, goals and stakeholders, timelines and budgets, purpose
and value. There are never enough of us; there’s rarely enough time; we can
never please everyone; and we choose our battles the best we can.
If you aren’t careful, frustration can and will
become your norm. To the purpose of preserving yourself, your energy, and your
enthusiasm, I vaguely offer the following:
Librarians are an idiosyncratic lot. Our
personality types run the gamut, but there is a steadfast, determined and
stubborn quality about us, as a collective, that I admire. We each stand up for
what we deem important to the mission of the library. The quicker you come to
appreciate the commonality of intent, independent of the temperament of
expression, the easier it will be for you to recognize when your interests and
goals may need to recede to whatever good the library (or its governing
entities) deems as priority.
The politics of managing a library are unavoidable.
We each have our say and our perspective, but few of us will ever be in the
position to maintain a holistic awareness of the effort it takes to keep this
particular ship afloat. Patience and fortitude, and all good things in time, is
the outlook you need. It may take years to push through an initiative you are
convinced will only take weeks to finish, and it may take minutes to decide on
a project that takes years to complete. You may or may not have a say in either
scenario. Adjust your sense and scale of time to be more expansive. Consider
your projects and goals, your intent and wishes, from the macro. Libraries tend
to not function like industrial behemoths, chugging along at an ungodly pace
and churning out service after service after service. We live and work and
thrive in an ecosystem that is delicate and sturdy, demanding and
lackadaisical.
Purely from anecdote, no two libraries seem to be
alike. Talk to one person and you’ll get the rigid, hierarchical, bureaucratic,
slow-moving sloth of burden. Talk to a second person and you’ll get the mental
whiplash of an overworked, agile, change-oriented… gazelle of delight? Talk to
a third person and they’ll hover somewhere between the two, an uncertain and
unholy hybrid. Probably don’t talk to a fourth person or you’ll have
difficulties generating conclusions.
Wherever you happen to end up, take the time to
understand the organizational culture you just stumbled into. Understand its
history, the folks who have worked there since time immemorial, and the ones
with but a mere few years of existential weathering. Understand where they’ve
been, where they are, and where they’re trying to go. This is an elementary,
but crucial, first step.
Every one of us, irrespective of rank or position,
whether by design or accident, has a deep influence in how our library runs and
how we serve in its mission. But you cannot use brute force to wield that
influence, however subtle or overt it may be. The hope, of course, is that you
find a library that places reciprocal diligence into getting to know and
appreciate you, and that it is a co-evolution of personal and organizational
growth. To that end, never cease to advocate for yourself and your professional
intentions, while preserving the congeniality of open dialogue.
Brian Rogers is the Director of Library IT at
the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Prior to that, he worked as a Web
Design and Instruction Librarian. Prior to that, he worked as a software tester
and copyeditor for the tech industry. Prior to that, he’ll tell you over
drinks. He holds a BA in English from Emory, and an MLIS in Archives,
Preservation and Records Management from the University of Pittsburgh.
Everything clearly, clearly worked out precisely as he imagined it would. He
tweets @bhar0.
Excellent and well-written piece! Although now I don't know whether to be frightened or excited to enter into library work...
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