ALA Annual Correspondence From a Small Town Librarian, by Chris Wilkes

As a librarian from a small, rural library, it is easy to become isolated from the larger library world. The “rockstar” librarians, big, urban libraries, and innovative ideas that are seen on the pages of Library Journal and American Libraries every month seem an otherness, something that I do not encounter in my daily work life. My perception of this otherness pervades my view of the American Library Association itself. Although I am a member of ALA, I have a difficult enough time using its website, let alone understanding the many divisions, roundtables, and committees. Besides bringing back new ideas to my library, I had hoped my attendance at my first ALA Annual would give me a clearer picture of the library community and my place in it.

For the most part, the conference shattered my perceptions about this otherness. I found attendees and vendors approachable throughout the conference. I met a couple of LJ Mover & Shaker’s and even met a former Executive Board member of ALA when both of us were resting our feet. It was those moments where I heard another attendee say they had difficulty marketing their programs or they were running successful programs on no budget that gave me most confidence that I was not on an island.

In a couple sessions, I did perceive a divide between larger suburban and urban public libraries and smaller libraries. I attended one presentation talk about their large library system that had more money for marketing than my entire library’s materials budget. There also seemed, from the sessions I attended, to be a lack of understanding that buying new things can improve your library’s circulation and attendance. [Editor’s Note: This is not just a public library thing. Lots of us forget that our perspective isn’t the only one.]

Walking away from ALA Annual, I still sense a certain separation between myself and the larger ALA bureaucracy. Even though most meetings were open to members, I do not feel that my attendance at these meetings would have changed my opinion. At the NMRT 101 and RUSA 101 sessions, the message was to get involved. I’ve taken this message to heart and I hope to join a committee (or at least attempt). I cannot really complain about the organization if I only play a peripheral role in it.

One of the unexpected outcomes of attending ALA was that I have begun actively to question my role within my library. I think this self-reflection started when I was asked in an Unconference to state my preferred pronoun. I was immediately confronted with identity. As a white, male librarian, I very rarely thought about how my gender, racial, and social background can affect a reference interview or staff interaction. To some degree, I had thought such conversations were academic and were separate from my role as a librarian. I hope this new awareness will allow me to recognize barriers in my daily interactions with patrons and staff.

Similarly, I began to question my library’s role within our community. My community has a very small minority population and there is almost no visible LGBT presence, but my library could do more to serve their needs. I doubt these thoughts would have occurred to me within my small, conservative community without being a part of ALA Annual during Pride weekend or without seeing the praise that the Ferguson Library has received. My library has already taken steps to start adding more LGBT books for all age levels in the week since I’ve been from Annual.

My first ALA Annual left me both exhausted and rejuvenated. Besides bringing several new, innovative teen and adult programs as well as new marketing strategies back to my library, the most important outcome of my first ALA Annual is that it challenged my perception of my role in the library community.

Chris Wilkes is the reference librarian at the Tazewell County Public Library in Southwestern Virginia. Despite having a robot for an avatar on Twitter, where he tweets as @irobotlibrarian, he promises he’s a really real person. Maybe.

Politics Schmolitics – What Do Politics Have To Do With Libraries?, by Abigail Phillips

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Public libraries are very political. But, strangely, no one tells you this while you’re working on your MLIS, and I’ve always wondered why. Libraries exist in a political environment that has the power to cut our funding, damage our image in the community, and question our existence. Yet, we are taught almost nothing about dealing with politics during our MLIS coursework. While the political climate varies from library to library, the influence of politics is always present. [Editor’s Note: This is also true at academic libraries. Town/gown relationships can be minefields.] Young librarians and MLIS students should be aware of this since it has an impact on their day-to-day work experience, job security, and job satisfaction.

When I talk about “politics” in this post, I’m referring to outside political pressures, for example, city commissioners, school board, the media, and the community. In this post, I’m focusing on local politics. State and national politics more confusing than I have room to discuss. Neither am I discussing internal workplace politics are important and worth discussing. Workplace issues are often mentioned in MLIS coursework and seem to be better understood by new librarians. Anyway, workplace politics aren’t solely a library phenomenon; they exist in every work environment.

Back to the subject at hand: local politics.I learned about this early on in my library career. In my first position, I worked at a small rural library system in southwest Georgia, and my director was very good at playing the political game. (Minor disclaimer: almost all of my work experience has been in rural public libraries, so my experiences with politics come from a rural background.) When she started as director, she attended every meeting of the city council, board of commissioners, school board, etc. By doing so, she served as the face of the library. When county commissioners, members of the public, or local press had a question or critique of our library, she spoke up. Having a library representative available to politicians, the local press, and others, helped shorten the distance between the library and the local political world. Not only do libraries need to be engaged with patrons, but they also must be involved in political discussions. Maybe in larger library systems a public relations person takes over most of these duties, but for small libraries with limited funding and staff, these tasks often fall on the director and other administrators.

This is might sound terrible, but a good chunk politics for librarians involves playing nice. Whether it’s sending a birthday card to the husband or wife of a local representative, providing one-on-one tutorials on downloading ebooks to the chair of the zoning board, or personalized readers’ advisory for a county commissioner, catering to the political elite is often necessary. I don’t want to sound like public libraries should provide better service to politicians or big wigs than to the rest of the community. These are the same services we offer to all of our patrons, but the intensity is upped. I’m not sure if this is more true for rural communities than for others, but for rural libraries, the connections are so close and so critical. Everyone knows everyone’s business. People go to the same churches, know the same people. Gossip spreads easily. The school board member who you see at the gym may be the same person who votes nay on continuing library funding. You want these people to be on your side, rooting for the library or at the very least not attacking it in the press.

I would encourage young librarians to figure out the political landscape of their community, even if you aren’t at a rural library. If you don’t already know, figure out the answers to these questions: Who funds my library? Who are my county commissioners, school board members, and other local representations? How does the local press represent my library? How important is my library and our services to these individuals?

You may have no interest in becoming a director or administrator (I know I don’t), but it’s worthwhile to know how politics impact the work you do.

Abigail Phillips is a third-year doctoral student in the School of Information at Florida State University. Her research interests include social media, young adults, information behaviors, cyberbullying, information literacy, librarianship, and libraries. She tweets about all these things and much more @abigailleigh. Abigail also blogs about her experiences as a doctoral student at http://abigailleighphillips.com. 

Leaders Needed at Rural Libraries, by Natalie Binder

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You’ve always wanted to work in a public library. You believe in service, citizenship, and community. You value relationships; when you imagined being a librarian, you imagined participating in local government and getting to know your patrons by name. You want to make a big impact—not just in your career, but in people’s lives. You want to be a generalist, not a specialist. You want to have a great quality of life on a librarian’s salary. And when you started library school, you wanted to be a traditional, book-based, community librarian, but it seems like those jobs are either disappearing or impossible to get.

If that sounds like you, you may be a rural librarian at heart—which is great news, because rural libraries need you. These jobs rarely appear on listservs or job boards, but the “graying” of the profession is very real in rural libraries. Many rural libraries have a long-serving librarian (or staff) who will be retiring soon. And since rural libraries are often quite small, you can quickly rise to an influential leadership role and have a strong say in how these small libraries meet the challenges of the future.

I’ve worked in a rural library since before library school—four years this month—and I love my job. Every day I go to work knowing that I will make an impact on someone’s life. Every day something terrific, exciting, or funny happens at my library, and though I am not in administration, I always feel like my contributions and ideas are appreciated and valued. There are many other benefits to rural librarianship. While salaries are generally low, a dollar goes much further in rural communities than it does in urban or academic communities, and affordable housing is rarely an issue. You can probably afford to live much closer to a beach, farm, or lovely national park than you imagine. If the library is adequately staffed, working conditions are also good. Rural libraries enjoy strong community support, and small staffs often work together to ensure flex time is available for things like childcare and family events. Rural libraries are usually quite safe—while no public library is conflict-free, your patrons are more likely to bring you homegrown vegetables than complaints.

Best of all, rural libraries serve as true community centers, where far-flung and diverse groups can come together. A rural library often serves as a small town’s largest meeting room, its only Internet hotspot, the only local, affordable entertainment for adults and children, and an access point for badly needed social services. My library serves as the physical “office” for employment services, child welfare and legal aid.

Of course, no type of library is for everyone. Rural libraries are generalist libraries. As a rural librarian you will frequently be called to do things your master’s degree never prepared you for, from running a farmer’s market to repairing a child’s shoe. If you’re interested in doing something quite specialized or academic, it’s probably best to begin your job search elsewhere. If you need to be surrounded by other young academics, or enjoy a lot of social activities, then you probably won’t enjoy the quiet and isolation of a rural community. If you’re married, it can be a challenge for your spouse to find work in town.

Finally, in small towns there is little division between your personal life and your work life. Your patrons, co-workers, Friends group, Board of Directors, and government leaders are also your friends and neighbors. Sometimes it feels like you’re never off the job! For this reason, it’s very important to move slowly, get community buy-in, and be prepared to backtrack on big changes. That can be a challenge if you’re fresh out of library school and eager to change the world.

I have seen too many “new directors” leave or lose their rural jobs because of avoidable conflicts among stakeholders. It’s great to have vision and ambition, but if you’re more combative than cooperative, you’ll have a hard time achieving your goals in a small town. Even if your library seems like a mess that you were hired to fix (or “bring up to date”), plan to spend a full year or more listening and learning before you try to change the system. When you become a librarian at a rural library, you’re also joining small, stable team of prominent citizens and community leaders whose support you’ll need for years or even decades. Make those relationships a priority, and always take the long view in any conflict.

If that sounds like a challenge you’re up to, then you can begin your rural job hunt locally. No matter where you live, you’re probably not far from a small library system. Check county job boards, or see if there’s a volunteer position available. Ask if you can shadow a librarian or staff member for a day or two. These jobs are not usually widely advertised. Take your time and get to know the rural libraries and communities around you. Even if you decide to look elsewhere for a permanent job, you’ll be in for a fun, rewarding and educational experience.

Natalie Binder is a librarian at a small library in rural Florida. She is a graduate of Florida State University's College of Communication and Information. She is also the founder and moderator of #libchat, a Twitter chat for librarians and library school students. She can be found on Twitter @nvbinder.