The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

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I was recently asked about the experience of future students walking into an academic library. At first, all I could think about was a building where I used to work that was completed in the early 90s but that was outmoded by the late 90s. The rise of mobile devices and the need for power outlets everywhere made a practically brand new building seem dated. That’s just one major change that completely altered the experience in a library. That kind of upheaval can and will happen again, so I know I can't specifically describe the academic library of the future. And I'm not the only one... I read an article last week that flat out stated: “The array of forces that impact upon the library’s operating environment makes any modelling of transformation during the coming years an almost impossible task.” That was written by someone at Carnegie Mellon University - if someone at a school that size doesn't feel up to predicting the future in a meaningful way, how could I?

So then... what are we to do? I mean, other than designing flexible spaces and hiring flexible people...? How can we be ready for the future? Here's how: we need to concentrate on the people. We need to work on making members of our community feel welcome in the library. And I mean all members. I keep thinking about something Verna Myers said at ACRL: "Diversity is being invited to the party. Inclusion is being asked to dance." And that feeling of being asked to dance, of truly belonging, should be our goal for the people who walk through the doors of our libraries.

So, how do we do this? How do we make members of our community, especially our students, feel like they belong in the library? We do it by meeting their needs. And by treating them as whole people, not just academic entities. We've already got them academically. Accommodating and supporting academic needs is the main mission of an academic library. Especially at small, liberal arts colleges like mine. We do course reserves, information literacy, shape our collections to support the research and curricular needs of our parent institutions. But that's just the beginning.

We also need to accommodate the social needs of our community. Yes, most (if not all) of us are giving our students places where they can talk or be quiet, as they choose, but I’d like to see it go further. It’s great to do a display for African American History Month or Women’s History Month, but we shouldn’t restrict it to just those months. Making sure to include writers of color in all displays, not just in February. Including nonbinary authors and women and beyond. We should spend time making sure visual branding is representative as well. We want students to have a sense of ownership of the space, and so partnering with them will be crucial. Making sure they see themselves reflected is crucial.

This is a place where some academics might balk, but providing ways to relax, beyond comfortable chairs, should also be part of our mission. As I said above, our students are whole people and we need to support the whole person. From popular reading materials to board and video games to fun activities sponsored by the library. Therapy dogs and gaming nights and arts &crafts and movie nights might seem on the surface like things only public libraries should be doing, but if we want our students to feel welcome and supported as whole people, we need to do these as well. Even if there’s a public library in town, they aren’t always open nearly as late as we are. Further, even if the public library is right off campus, students - particularly those who aren’t from the local area - aren’t always going to feel comfortable going off campus. Besides, letting our students see us in a social light will help us build the relationship so students will feel more comfortable coming to us for academic help.

It's all well and good - and a bit fun, I have to admit - to think about how technology will shape the future of libraries. Will we be more Starfleet Academy or more Johnny Mnemonic? Gattaca or Jetsons? But, no matter which direction the tech takes us, we will be fine if we remember to focus on the people.

What do you think?

My Milk Bowl Brings All the Cats to the Yard: Some Thoughts on Faculty Outreach

You know that phrase, "herding cats"? I sometimes think it was invented to describe what it's like to work with faculty when you're an academic librarian. Please don't misunderstand. I have some amazing faculty colleagues (and plenty of them read my blog regularly). Further, and I know this next thing sounds like a joke, my best friend is a member of the faculty at a college where I used to work. Regardless, faculty are as diverse and hard to round up a group as cats. So, working on that idea, I'd like to share some of the ways I've metaphorically put a bowl of milk out in the yard and made working with me and with the library more appealing to members of the faculty.

First things first: get to know them. Find out about their interests, both professional and personal. Bonus points if you find out you have something in common. I got my foot in the door with a communication professor because of a shared love of Godzilla, and with a political science professor because of a shared love of a particular director. I made serious points with a provost because I was the one to let him know that his favorite poet was coming out with a new collection.

Next, be the first or one of the first people to make contact with new faculty. If you go out of your way to make them feel comfortable and welcome at your institution, they'll start to come to you for things they need - even non-library things. Also, if you build a relationship with the junior faculty in a department, you can sometimes parlay it into relationships with senior faculty. That political science professor I mentioned above? He helped me to get his department chair to answer my emails finally.

Another thing you need to do is show up to their events. Is that creative nonfiction writing instructor giving a reading of a new essay? Go. The biochemistry professor is hosting an open lab period? Go. If you really want to get on their good side, try hosting faculty events in the library. We had a faculty scholarship series at a previous job, and I'm starting to work on plans to create something similar here.

Those three ideas can be boiled down to one theme: be a good colleague. If you want to collaborate with faculty, show them that you are connecting with them for more reasons than fulfilling library needs. Faculty outreach needs to be about the connection, and then you can build it into collaboration. You want to demonstrate that you have a lot to offer.

By the way, I first got to know my best friend when I expressed interest in her research. She teaches animal cognition (among other things) and she had a rat lab when she first started at that institution. I asked some questions and next thing I knew, I was helping her socialize a litter of rat babies (pictured below). The library at that institution already had a good relationship with the psychology department, and our connection strengthened it even more.




What do you think? Could you use these techniques? If you've had successful faculty outreach, did you use techniques similar to what I have listed above? Something I didn't mention? Please share!


p.s. I know it is probably bad form to use a picture of cute baby rats in a post that has cats in the title, but oh well. 

Coffee is Not Just for Closers: Tips from a Recovering Salesman, by Matt Bird

The term “salesman” conjures negative emotions and stereotypes: sleazy mustachioed Glengarry Glen Ross slicksters, lying through their crocodile smiles, and grabbing Grandma’s last penny. We have all met these salespeople. We dislike these salespeople. Yet these salespeople take our money. How? I can tell you, because I used to be one of them.

In my eleven years of sales experience—mostly management—I was exposed to an array of training sessions on closing sales. It isn’t mysterious; it is a process of connection. Salespeople convince you to part with your cash/credit limit, for items you probably don’t need, because they connect with you—putting you at ease, gaining your trust, and ensuring you feel empowered.

The “art” of connection is a necessary need for better customer service in public libraries. It retires the stereotype of the stern, unapproachable, introverted librarian. It also increases library usage statistics. Higher usage statistics hopefully translate to your facility and job staying funded.

To clear up a misconception: “introverted” does not equal “lack of soft skills.” However, that is the association. If you are looking toward job fields where you interact with people and are worried about your interpersonal skills, here are things I do on a daily basis, acquired from my time in sales, to connect with co-workers and patrons in the public library where I work.

Smile. Smile. Smile. Smiling puts other people at ease. It doesn’t trigger the evolved spider-sense our brains developed to recognize danger. Smiling de-escalates and creates calm. Keep control of your emotions and how they are displayed in the professional setting. Do not bring your baggage to work. Smile and say hello to every co-worker you pass during the day and to every patron who walks into your department.

Understand Code-Switching. In linguistics, code-switching signifies shifts in language, usually from a form of dialect to a standard variation. Hence, you don’t talk to your friends in the same way you address your grandparents. Life isn’t Gilmore Girls. In the professional world, address others professionally. No cursing, no commonly objectionable conversations, and never demean someone else.

Connecting. Asking someone for help is intimidating. It is easy to assume that patrons understand we are here to help. They do not and will not unless you connect with them. Speaking as the manager of a department where customer interactions can take up to an hour or longer, the initial connection is highly important. Greet people. Assess them. What does their mood seem like? What are they wearing? Make general, obvious, non-offensive statements. If it’s winter and they are bundled up, a simple, “Cold out there, isn’t it?” will go a long way to put the patron at ease. When they leave, tell them thanks for stopping in. Throw a, “If you need anything else, you know where to find us” out there. As long as you never set yourself up for an argument, these types of interactions will ensure that the patron enjoys their time and gets the most out of the help you provide.

Another example of connection is my opening paragraph. I explained a common scenario to align your interest with mine so you will continue reading and become more open to advice. Devious, I know.

Personal space. Invasion of personal space is terrible. I dislike it. You dislike it. It’s a trap easily tripped if you aren’t careful. Working side by side with someone is a reality. Just like at the dinner table, never reach across. Ask for materials to be passed or switch places. If you happen to work with a group, ensure that you give attention to all members to ensure inclusion. A simple glance while you speak to quiet group members traverses miles.

Coffee. It isn’t just for closers. Help yourself, but always use breath mints.

An MLS is a degree in adaptation. It will not teach you all the skills you need for any given library job. Most library schools will leave you woefully unprepared for interpersonal interaction. It is your job as a future information professional to find ways and people to help you to bolster your soft-skills. Process the aforementioned connection techniques and you will develop better work environments and relationships with patrons and coworkers.

Matt Bird is the Special Collections Manager at Vigo County Public Library in Terre Haute, IN. Between sales and librarianship, Matt taught classical literature at Indiana State University. He still teaches in the ISU Honors program on the subjects of book and library history. He can be reached at mebird@indiana.edu or on Twitter and Instagram: @bird_point9186.

Getting Into the Community

picture taken by Martha Boyd

This past weekend, I was on a panel at the Dover Comic Con. The other panelists were an English teacher from a local high school (also the husband of another librarian at my school) and the new provost, who used to teach literature at my college. Our panel, "Classrooms Can Get Graphic (Novels)", was about integrating graphic novels and comics across the curriculum. It was well attended, well received, and fun. But best of all, it was a way to support and be part of the efforts of the Dover Public Library, who organizes and runs this convention. Lots of people talk about the need to build town-gown relationships, but this was us actually doing it.

The thing is, all libraries - no matter what type - need to be an active part of the community they serve. From corporate libraries hosting parties to support scientists in their R&D department to public librarians teaming up with K-12 teachers to academic libraries cooperating in events run by the nearby public library. This is more than outreach, which is of course very important. This is about supporting the efforts of other organizations and about partnerships.

Here are some of the other things we've done to make sure that this library is an active part of not just the college community, but also city and state:

• Participate in a state-wide effort run by the Sexual Assault Network of Delaware as part of Sexual Assault Awareness Month. 
• Tie our book displays into on campus events, like Domestic Abuse Awareness and Disability Awareness.
• Write reviews and actively promote the services of a therapy dog organization.

It can be hard to find time for this kind of thing when you're so focused on getting through the day to day, but it can also be highly rewarding. Being an active part of your community is more than getting patrons to come into the library; it's about getting out and working to further community goals.

How about you? What are some of the things you've done to support others in the community where you are? What are some of the things you'd like to do?

Popular Culture in the Academic Library: Community Building

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When I was a fresh out of grad school librarian, I didn't realize that embracing popular culture things - I use "things" for lack of a better umbrella term - as outreach and community building was in anyway abnormal. 13+ years into my career, I know it was very unusual back then and is still sadly uncommon now. Here are some of the things I currently embrace and/or have embraced in the past:

1. Gaming events in the library. In the past I've hosted Humans vs. Zombies, a Super Smash Brothers tournament, and board game events at more than one library. The video game tournament wasn't as successful for relationship building, but every single other event I've listed was a huge success for the library. We got to know the students/faculty/staff of the school and they got to know us.
2. Graphic novel collections. My first library job in higher ed was at a college that specifically worked with students who have learning differences (ADHD/dyslexia/etc.). For so many of those students, and students I've worked with since, the library represented what they couldn't do well. Sequential art, on the other hand, uses different parts of the brain for processing than what we use for reading just words. My first graphic novel collection was a way to reach out to students and to get them in the library. It worked so well that I've created similar collections everywhere else I've worked.
3. Popular press fiction and nonfiction collections. I've been lucky to work with a lot of popular culture scholars in my library career. From the biomedical humanities professor who studied film to the Cormac McCarthy scholar and beyond, I was responsible for collecting works of and about popular appeal "things." That's the traditional reason for academic libraries to have such collections. But I saw the crossover appeal to pleasure reading/viewing/etc. in those collections at a school with no other source of books/movies/etc. in walking distance. 
4. Service to consortia. Two of my three library jobs in higher ed were at libraries that participated in large consortia: OhioLINK and Delaware Libraries. Smaller schools are typically net borrowers, so having popular music or movies or books can help even out the imbalance.
5. Board game collections. This is my most recent endeavor, and it's still fairly unusual for an academic library to have a circulating board game collection, but it's one of my favorite things I've done. It started out purely as an outreach maneuver. We have a group on campus called "Campus of the Nerds," and I was seeing them in the library a lot anyway. Creating the board game collection was a way to support a new student club, but it's also been a great tool for getting to know faculty and staff and other students. We've even gotten suggestions for board games to add, and getting any kind of request from our community is rare even when we solicit requests.

I know I've beaten this particular drum before, but it's a big thing for me. Community building is key to all libraries, and it's not just about the services we provide. Academic libraries of all makes and models could easily add these kinds of collections and this kind of outreach. You know what? Let me fix that sentence: all libraries should embrace these kinds of collections and outreach.

Telling the Story

A while ago, I want to say it may have even been months, someone asked me to write about how to use storytelling to convince people to change things within a certain part of the library. I've tried to write that post about a half dozen times, and each iteration left me feeling even less convinced that I knew what I was doing. I have used storytelling to make my case. Many times, actually. Recently, even. But putting it in a specific context, especially one with which I'm not as familiar, felt awkward.

Add to that awkwardness the fact that storytelling might not always be the best tool. Sure, it's one I use most often. Then again, I'm a good writer and I can be very convincing with other communication as well. I'm quick with jokes. I'm fantastic at finding analogies to explain myself. All my rumination helped me come to a conclusion, a way to write this post.

I tell stories to convince people of my perspective because you need to work to your strengths. I've talked a lot, maybe on this blog and definitely when talking in person, about figuring out the best methods to convince your audience of your way of thinking. I've talked about how if your boss, or your prospective collaboration partner, or whomever, is more of a numbers person then you should use numbers. The same goes with stories. That's important, yes, but I think it's more important to work to your strengths. And storytelling is definitely my strength.

Having said that, some key points of my storytelling techniques could help you:

• Don't abandon numbers completely. Talking about how "1 in 5 of our patrons will run into this problem" after you've painted a compelling picture of wireless connectivity in a specific location will add weight to your claims.
• Avoid talking about how this proposal will help you. Sure, the new software will make life easier for you, but who else will it help? Instead of "this will make my life so much easier because I won't have to do needless busy work," try: "If you give us this support, it will minimize our turnaround time for students who use this service."
• Make it personal. "Jane Patron told me, just the other day, about how hard it is for her to [do this thing]. You know Jane, right? She's in here all the time. Well, this program would be perfect for Jane Patron and others."
• If you know the person you are trying to convince is more easily swayed by numbers, get help. The best proposals really do combine both, so if you're doing something formal, try to use a mix. 

How about you? What storytelling techniques do you recommend? Or, if you're more of a numbers person, how do you envision persuasion getting easier or harder if you tried to incorporate storytelling?

What Library Work Isn't Outreach?

Maybe it's because I started my librarian life as public services (well, technically I was called "research services"), or maybe it's because I've always worked at smaller libraries where pretty much everyone is cross-trained and wears multiple hats, but everything in libraries seems like public services to me. Even if you never work directly with the public, you're still working to serve them in some way. We are all in the outreach business. Even when it seems impossible, we might as well relax and appreciate it.

The outreach is obvious if you're doing instruction or reference or programming, but public services aren't the only ones serving our communities. If you're working on the catalog, you're making it easier for the public to access all the things. If you're the person who cleans the restrooms and empties the trash, you're doing it to make the library nicer for your community. This is a service industry after all, and we are all here to give good service to our constituents.

No, I'm not saying that "the customer is always right." They aren't. Heck, in my part of the library world, academic libraries, the customer is frequently at least a little wrong. I've lost count of how many times have I had to say some version of, "let me show you how to search for it in the catalog," when a student asks me to look a book up for them. You can still give good customer service while pointing out the "customer" is wrong. We need to respect that the people who come into the library, virtually or physically, are people. We should also remember that fellow librarians are among our constituents in this hyper-connected world.

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When people know you're "that librarian lady" or "that librarian guy" in your community, they always see you that way. It can be hard sometimes, especially if you tend towards introversion. But really, even when it gets tedious answering the same question or fixing the same problem in the catalog or shushing the same loud group of teenagers again and again, it helps to remember that we're all in the outreach business. I don't remember who said it, but "if we didn't have patrons, libraries would just be book museums" has always rung true to me.

Am I wrong? Is there some part of librarianship that doesn't serve our communities in some way, even remotely? I'd love to hear. I'd also love to hear if you have any tricks for reminding yourself that outreach is part of everything we do.

Books: Important Symbol or Annoying Physical Reality?

The question in the title is something that I've spent a lot of time considering. It's plagued me almost since the very beginning of my career, but I think I know the answer now. "So," I can hear you asking, "what are books? Are they an important physical reality? Or are they a magical symbol?" My answer: Both.

Why am I bringing this up now? Lately there's been a flurry of controversy about libraries DARING to get rid of their books in favor of other things - study space, computer labs, learning commons, coffee shops, etc. Part of me thinks those must have been slow news days, since libraries have always weeded their collections. But, slow news days or not, there has been a lot of outrage and I can't ignore it. Since I'm most definitely a bibliophile, I can understand the impulse to treasure the printed word. However, as someone who's hip-deep in what is probably going to be a multi-year weeding project, I can also speak to the annoying, dust-covered reality of old books. So here I am with a blog post.

Here's a brief list of the specific things that prompted me to sit down and write this post:

First, there was a click bait article, "Save Our Stacks: It's not about the books. It's about the books representing the last place on campus where intellectual contemplation thrives." (That link is one I created using DoNotLink.com, so you won't be rewarding them with hits if you want to read it.)

Second, there was a conversation on Twitter in response to that piece of click bait (the conversation started with the tweet I embedded below, but I highly recommend looking at the rest of what was said - especially Tom Bruno's contributions to the discussion):

someday when i have time, I'll write an article titled "Its about the books AND the symbolism of the books" #falsedichotomies
— Chris Bourg (@mchris4duke) May 12, 2014

Finally, there was another tweet a little over a week later:

Philip Deloria - libraries should have traces of the past, should also induce humility. Emotional experience of encounters with knowledge.
— barbara fister (@bfister) May 22, 2014

I don't want to descend into the "you have no idea what you're talking about, outsiders!" territory, although it's tempting - there are lots of comparisons to be made to other service professions on the tip of my tongue. But no... as tempting as it might be, that's not the point of this blog. I want to help us all be better librarians, and after a certain amount of griping it becomes counterproductive. Instead, I want to talk about my desire to find a middle ground, a way of accommodating the visceral responses of those who fetishize the printed word while still serving their real needs.

That phrase, "their real needs," sounds a bit high handed even to me - and I'm the one who wrote it. But really, I can't help thinking about Jakob Nielsen's piece, "First Rule of Usability? Don't Listen to Users," and a related quote from Steve Jobs: "It's not the customer's job to know what they want." I'm not Steve Jobs. I'm not even Jakob Nielsen. As much as I might admire those men for their clear vision, I don't feel comfortable dismissing community voices. This means I can't go into "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" mode with collection development. Books are absolutely a symbol, and an important one at that. As I've said many times before, no matter what else we might be/do/have, "the library brand is still books."

All of this means that no matter how annoying the physical reality of books might get, gathering dust, attracting bedbugs, rotting in colorfully staining ways, I can't disregard the symbolism. So I communicate as much as I can with my community when we weed. We have posted a sign near our book sale area that explains how books end up on those shelves. I give faculty in related departments a heads up when we are weeding, doing everything I can to solicit their feedback. When I run into people in my community who don't want to listen, I deal with it on a case by case basis - sometimes giving in to their wishes, sometimes insisting on the library's needs, and sometimes finding a compromise. 

My point is that we need to respect the dual nature of the books within the library's walls. As Chris Bourg said, "It's about the books AND the symbolism of the books." And, no matter what, always remember to stroke the spines of the nastiest ones. 

(context)

How about you? Do you have a preferred method for dealing with the false dichotomy?

The Role of the Library in a Liberal Arts College

Picture, by me, of a bridge in Killens Pond State Park, in Delaware.

Someone recently asked me what I think of as the role of the library in a liberal arts college. I have some strong feelings on the topic, so I thought I'd share my response on my blog as well. Since I'm the product of a liberal arts college (Hood College in Frederick, Maryland, if you're curious), and have worked in the libraries of three different liberal arts colleges... Well, to say the role of a library in that setting is near and dear to my heart would be an understatement. I've spent a lot of time thinking about our role, even before I was asked for my opinion on the topic. Actually, my ideas about the role of the library in a liberal arts college setting are the driving force in my career.

It all comes down to this: I see the library as a bridge and community builder. We have this opportunity because of the usually unique role a library plays at small, liberal arts colleges. The library, and the staff who work in/for the library, are the very definition of "neither fish nor fowl." We are an academic department, but we're also a student life department. We're a physical space, but also a service. Even at schools where librarians are considered fully faculty or fully staff, we're both and neither. Some might see this as a weakness, but it is precisely this in-between state that has always helped me build bridges and communities - because we are a department that serves the entire community and beyond.

One way in which I've been able to take advantage of how the library is situated is how I've used my role to create partnerships, even with non-typical partners. Sure, libraries work with academic departments on a regular basis, but I've managed - more than once in my career - to bring together groups that include faculty and staff from across the institution. When I ran Humans vs. Zombies at a previous institution, the group running it included faculty, students, academic staff, student life staff, and librarians. And the cultural literacy series? The committee running it was me, a member of the faculty, and an administrator from student life. Talks were given by a broad range of college employees, too, not to mention the campus constituencies that were represented in our audiences.

Another way community building has shown in my career is how I've used my position to break down silences and silos. Sometimes it was paying attention to research interests and then connecting like minded scholars: "Professor Smith, you're studying death and dying from a nursing perspective? Did you know Professor Jones is working on an article about the literature of death and dying? Do you know each other? If not, I'd be happy to introduce you." Another time it was more personal: I helped to organize an after work get-together for a group of junior faculty who ranged across a broad array of disciplines. Then there were all the times I built collections of popular reading materials as a way to get people in the building (that was the topic of the second post I ever wrote for LtaYL).

A third way in which this theme of community and bridge building has played out is in how I've striven to make the libraries where I've worked as welcoming as possible. Furniture, signage, displays, universal design, smiling and helpful staff... these are all important. A welcoming atmosphere is especially crucial when it comes to assisting first generation college students with learning the culture of higher education (and even if your college hasn't traditionally served a lot of first gen students, you will be). It's also important when dealing with new faculty. If the library is the first department to extend a welcome, you can be sure new faculty will be more receptive to your ideas. Heck, most of the assessment techniques I've shared on this blog (especially the kindness audits I wrote about recently) have had the end goal of making the library more welcoming and effective.

This community and bridge building role is something I see for libraries at a liberal arts colleges both now and in the future. It's the human element that makes liberal arts colleges what they are. It was the people at my undergraduate institution that were my connection to the school and the reason I got so much out of my time there, and I can serve as that connection for the students, faculty, and staff now that I'm on the other side of the desk. As online classes become de rigueur, even for small schools, and as we all try to entice non-traditional and first generation students to our schools, the human element will only become more important. Relationships and community and personal attention are some of the reasons people pick small schools, and the library can and should be at the heart of that.

Our tactics will likely have to change or at least expand. We, as a profession, used to tell students to drop by the library to see us but now we make a point of meeting students where they are - email, chat and text reference, and even roving reference. I've worked social events run by other departments, such as when I helped serve late night breakfast or the multiple times I refereed late night dodge ball. I don't know what new technologies are coming next, but as service oriented as librarianship is, I'm sure we'll figure out a way to employ them to help better serve our communities. Even when I daydream and imagine such future academic libraries as the one at Starfleet Academy, I know the role of librarians and libraries needs to be that of bridge and community builder.

What do you think? If you agree, why? If not, why not?

Tomorrow's Problems

"Thinker on a Rock"

This weekend I finally got around to reading a Harvard Business Review blog network piece that was published last year, "If You Were the Next Steve Jobs..." by Umair Haque, and it has me thinking lots of thinks. Two of the five problems he identifies are places where libraries have got it all over big business - areas where we excel. The other three, however, are places we need to work. At least that's where my thinking has gone, so I wanted to share:

The first problem identified by Haque is Singularity. This is the one place I think libraries differ from big business. He asserts that they know how to do things on a big scale. Libraries, on the other hand, aren't always the best at scaling up. The good news is that we do know how to do the opposite. Librarians are the kings and queens of singularity; making a difference for individuals is our bailiwick. Maybe big business could learn from us for a change.

Another area where libraries have got it going on is Sociality. We may not always understand how to do the social media thing, but we do know how to build relationships with our community/customers/patrons. Individualized readers' advisory and research assistance, study spaces appropriate for large groups and small groups and individuals, and programming for all ages. We've got relationship building covered.

As for the issues I see us having in common with Hague's typical audience...

Spontaneity is a huge problem for us. Even at small libraries like mine, there are still hoops to jump through. And what's worse, we are so inured to it that we don't always notice how stodgy we are. I know there are good reasons for checks and balances, but they get in the way as much as they help. For instance, it startled me when my last job called me within days of my interview to offer me that position, because I'm so used to academic hiring practices going glacially slow. Don't even get me started on the reactions I get from librarians who work at research institutions when I tell them it took me six months to get a new program started - "How did you get it done so quickly?!"

Synchronicity is another problem we face. There is so much "Us vs. Them" thinking in libraries and academia that it can be impossible to work together. I'll admit even I fall victim to this one. I do my best to build relationships across my institution; I like working with student life and academic affairs and even athletics, trying to build consensus with students from across disciplines, etc. What's best for the college is important to me, but I'll admit that I fight tooth and nail for what the library needs and wants. If I'm not careful, I can get deeply into "Us vs. Them" thinking when it comes to budget planning.

Finally, and this is a big one, he discussed Solubility. In Hague's words: "the biggest lesson — and the one hidden in plain sight — is this: creating institutions capable of not just solving the same old problems, forever." From buildings that were finished just before laptops became a thing to libraries and librarians jumping on memes that are sad and out-of-date, we are too often behind the curve. From graduate programs to individuals to the institutions where we work, too many of us are solving yesterday's problems. Looking forward instead of back is one of the biggest reasons I look outside of libraries to see what's coming, because if businesses are dealing with it now, sure as shootin' I'll be dealing with it soon.

I still have lots of ruminating to do, but the point of Hague's piece, of solving tomorrow's problems instead of yesterday's... Well, that's an idea that has a lot of appeal. I'm not sure if the problems Hague lists are the problems of tomorrow's library, but they are a place to start. What do you all think?

Making Connections

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I'm still within my first year at this job, so I'm still doing all those new person things you need to do. High on my "new person" list of priorities is getting better connected with the faculty. (Caveat: my drive to connect with all of the faculty is partially a factor of the size of my school. Small school = fewer faculty = manageable for the library director to get to know all of them.) I'm doing everything I can think of to make these connections - asking to attend department meetings, learning about their research interests, participating in campus wide committees, etc. 

There's something else I've been doing lately that you, the newbrarian who is my intended audience, might not think of doing. I do my best to keep keep up with publishing news, and I then share it with my school. I want to make sure that the members of my faculty are informed, leaving them to concentrate on their main mission: research and teaching. How do I keep the faculty up-to-date? It's pretty simple: I sent a couple of emails recently that illustrate the idea.

I sent the first to all faculty and staff, and it included the full text of an email about SUNY's open textbook program, with an introduction:

"Hello all. Please excuse the wholesale forward, but I believe this entire email will be of interest. The cost of textbooks is major barrier for many of our students, and this new effort from SUNY is very promising. If anyone wants assistance accessing this or other open access resources, we in the library are here to help."

The second was more directed, sent solely to the two people on campus who teach chemistry:

"Have you two seen this yet? Apparently ACS has digitized and opened up their pre-1996 archives: http://www.acs.org/content/acs/en/pressroom/newsreleases/2013/october/acs-publications-announces-the-large-scale-digitization.html

Nice development."

Both emails led to good conversations, and the second one actually got me a one-on-one meeting with a full professor of chemistry. I was so excited about the meeting that I even tweeted about it:

Impromptu strategy meeting with one of the senior science faculty, ftw! #librarianwin
— Jessica Olin (@olinj) October 25, 2013

I've written about building faculty/community relationships in the past, and I'm sure I'll write about it again in the future. With my background as an instruction librarian -> instruction coordinator -> director, I'm definitely centered on students, so community building and outreach are important to me. However, I know that faculty are my surest path to students, so the professoriate is an equally important part of my community.

How about those of you who work with faculty? I know there are plenty of academic librarians who read LtaYL. Any advice to share with the newbrarian readers?


One last note - those kitties are up there because I still think of academic community outreach, especially faculty outreach, as herding cats (and trust me, I know I'm not the only one to use that analogy). Those kitties look tense, like they could fight or love on each other at the drop of a whisker, but there's a tentative connection. Even the smallest connections can lead to something good.

More Than Money: Book Sales as Outreach and Marketing

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We started a book sale at my library recently. There were book sales in the past, apparently, but were always one-shot deals. Those can be profitable, but they are also so much work. At this stage of things I wanted something with relatively low maintenance. So we set out three bookshelves in the area near the circulation desk, filled them with books and sundry, and we've been replenishing them as people purchase stuff. It's going well so far, although it has tapered off a bit since the first rush when it was brand new. I'm not worried since we've been strategizing about how to keep people aware of and buying from the book sale. I'm confident it will be a small but steady revenue stream for the library.

The emphasis in this instance is on "small." This book sale isn't going to provide enough money to make any major purchases for our collection. At first I thought I'd use the money to add some popular appeal materials to the collection - graphic novels, Hollywood movies, etc. But then I had a moment of inspiration, thanks to a conversation I had with a student.

You see, I have a weekly meeting with a liaison from our student government. She brings me concerns from the students - things like noise in the library and printing issues are typical. She also brings announcements from me back to SGA. We were talking about the book sale, and about how I was hoping to get SGA's help with picking the movies and such that I'll buy. Her response was interesting: she mentioned that students in certain majors complain sometimes about not having enough new library materials in their areas.

We talked about how expensive academic library materials can be, and how little money we've earned so far. But then I realized this was a perfect opportunity for outreach/marketing, and I said: "How about we leave how I'll spend this money up to SGA?" She smiled broadly and told me she'd get back to me with SGA's response.

And it's that moment that prompted me to write this post. Are we going to earn a lot of money from the book sale? No. Does that mean I'm going to stop the book sale? Again, I say: no. That's why I wanted low maintenance, slow and steady. Return on investment considerations and all that. The thing is, the relationship building that resulted - and the positive PR I'm going to get with SGA - make the book sale worth the effort. Besides, everyone who purchases something from our book sale is going to get a little bit of happy from helping the library. Wins all around.

Thoughts?

Dear Soon-To-Be Public Youth Services Librarian, by Angie Manfredi

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Soon, so much sooner than you know, there will come a time when you look back to the summers in your life as an idyllic time full of youthful shenanigans, vacations, time spent relaxing, and enjoying lazy, hazy, crazy days. 

One of those bouts of nostalgia might hit you on a day while you are ladling 70 cups of cheap pink lemonade into Dixie cups and your sweat is streaking the glitter make-up you have caked on your face and 60 small children are eagerly waiting for you to make your reappearance. Perhaps you’ll think of those simpler times at the end of the week after you have facilitated over half a dozen programs with a total participation of almost 200 people. You might miss those unhurried days the most when you realize you can’t remember your last day off and you’ve forgotten what any other job task besides working the desk is.

Yes, your idyllic summer days are numbered the minute you decide to work as a youth services librarian in a public library. Now that you’ve made this fateful decision, your summers are no longer your own. Now they belong to the insatiable behemoth known as … SUMMER READING.

Summer reading is the beast that steals your free time, saps your will to live, and turns you into a non-stop programming, book-recommending, high-energy machine. Summer reading is the reason you never manage to respond to e-mails, the reason you forget what off-desk time is like, the reason you can't focus on anything except the next big event. Summer reading, my soon-to-be-sister/brother-in-arms, is the reason I once had vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce for dinner almost every night for long stretches.

I am sure you have heard the rumblings from other youth services librarians, the mutterings about their exhaustion, their overload, their frustration when a particular program doesn't work. It's hard to miss that noise when it comes to Summer Reading because it becomes such a huge part of your professional life as a youth services librarian. Perhaps you are intimidated. Perhaps you are already exhausted at the mere thought of planning such an intensive slate of programs and outreach. Perhaps you're not even sure what the benefits of all this effort is when it seems like all it causes is stress and fatigue and parents complaining about reading requirements.

But I am writing this letter to you today not to scare you off, to warn you of dire consequences, or to encourage you to seek an avenue of librarianship that won't involve the same combination of sweat and glitter make-up as Youth Services. No, instead, I am writing to tell you the exact opposite - the great secret no one ever really tells you about the monster that is Summer Reading.

It's the most fun you'll ever have. It's quite simply the most fun time to be a youth services librarian. There's nothing like summer as a youth services librarian, those days when one program after another rolls into each other in a bliss of children and teens genuinely enjoying themselves: singing, dancing, playing, engaging in model literacy practices as they learn that the library is a place just for them. THAT'S what summer is really about, all those programs, all that time spent counting minutes and pages read. THAT'S why we do it, why we work ourselves into a blur of exhaustion - because during Summer Reading we Youth Services librarians are probably at our most exhausted but we're also at our best.

So this is the letter I send to you - my future colleague, my future survivor, my future costumed superhero/ine who saves the day time and time again in summer.

Hang in there. Remember the gifts of what all this work is: the community goodwill, building in teens and children an excitement for the library as a place and for reading whatever book they want¸ and helping young patrons stem their learning loss over summer.

What we do in these summer months, all the planning and effort we put into what we do, it's worth it. It matters. You might not always hear this articulated, you might lose it in the exhaustion and the grumblings. But it's true; it's the truest thing of all.

You'll never get those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer back, my friend. But you'll be having so much fun, I promise, you won't really miss them.

Embrace the glitter make-up and, I give you permission: have the ice cream for dinner.



Angie Manfredi is the Head of Youth Services for Los Alamos County Library System in Los Alamos, NM. She has held that position for the past six years. She has survived five years of summer reading and still feels like she has so much to learn about how to survive and thrive in the next five. You can read more of her work at her blog, Fat Girl Reading, or follow her on Twitter @misskubelik. 

Connecting Flights (of Fancy?)

I presented a lot this past Spring. And when I say a lot, I mean three conference presentations in four weeks. The weekend following the third of the three conferences, I went to Indiana to be in my friend's wedding. I managed to drive for one of the conferences since it was just up in Massachusetts, but I still ended up flying more in the space of five weeks than I had in the three years prior. This gave me multiple opportunities to experience airports in close proximity, and there's something I noticed this time that never quite stuck out to me before.

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The thing that stood out? The fact the board just outside my arrival gate always had information about the gates for the connecting flights of the people on that plane. Sure, all the flights that are coming into and leaving from an airport have their times and gates and everything else listed on the big boards along the corridors of the airport, but the board beside your gate is just your connecting flights. It's not like that particular board specifically says, "Jessica Olin, connecting to BWI, go to gate B24," but it's clear that they have a way to see who on an incoming flight is making a connection and automatically updating the board beside the gate to reflect those individuals.

I must have heard and seen this particular nicety at work many times before and never noticed. I have no idea why it stuck out to me this time, but it did. Since my brain was already in Library Thinking Mode with the conference schedule, something clicked: I started thinking about how we could facilitate connections for our communities. (There was some mention of an idea that could possibly be an answer to my question in the course text and the MOOC itself that Lankes ran (and that I admittedly dropped out of) recently, but I'm imagining something far less serendipitous and far more specific.)

Perhaps something along the lines of the "Other shoppers who bought [product x] also looked at [product y]" that you get with ecommerce sites, but in a library-y way. I don't have any answers and I'm not sure I'll ever have them, but here are some ideas/questions that I've had:

• Is there a way to connect people in the community (scholars, amateurs, lawyers) without breaking privacy conventions and laws? (I don't think we can do this electronically without exposing ourselves and/or our patrons to certain risks, but doing it in real life might be too cumbersome at larger communities.)
• What about the uncommon connections that we help our patrons make when we talk to them in person? An example of this is the time I realized the person who was looking for the New York Time Index was really looking for the text of a speech that Bill Clinton gave when he was running for president.
• Since the kind of connections we, as librarians, make aren't as uniform in nature as connecting flights, am I just getting lost in a flight of fancy?

It's been a while since I've left you with more questions than answers, but there you are. I'd really love to hear what you all think about this? Should I even keep playing with the idea?

Vocabulary Lesson: Marketing vs. Advertising

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I have a pet peeve that some of you may consider strange. Well, I have a lot of weird pet peeves, but I want to address one in particular, and that's the way people use "marketing" when they mean "advertising." (I also have a huge pet peeve about the design of public restrooms, but that's a story for another time.)

Let me set you straight (if you confuse or conflate these words). Advertising is about trying to persuade your audience/constituency/customer base/patrons to partake of your services, to get to know you and your services better. Marketing is almost the opposite - it's about you getting to know your target audience better and learning what kinds of products/services/etc. they need &/or want. Both advertising and marketing are about raising awareness, and both can be done at the same time, but they really are distinct activities because of their end goals. 

Why do I bring this up here on a blog geared towards librarians? Besides how rampant the misuse of these words seems to be in our profession, I mean. I'm bring it up here because I'm a fan of precision in vocabulary and the way precision can help you understand what you're doing so you can do a better job of it. The truth is that libraries need to market as well as advertise, but we're not as good at the former as we are at the latter. Librarians love to talk about libraries, but we don't really like to listen. And trust me, we need to listen to our customers if we want them to listen to us. 

A perfect example of the difference is how some companies handle social media. Are you engaging with your customers? Answering their questions, retweeting things they say about you? Or are you you doing all the talking? The same goes for in person communication - other than collection development suggestions, how often do you really listen to your patrons? Besides, advertising can be so much more effective if you've done a little marketing first. 

Perhaps I'm being a bit pedantic here, and I'm willing to own up to it. If I'm going to be honest, I'll admit it doesn't matter as much what you call what you're doing, so long as you are talking with as well as listening to the people who come to your library.

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When Good Programs Go Bad: Forgetting the Patron Perspective, by John Pappas

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How much effort are your patrons willing to expend in order to attend a program? The quick answer: not much, at least not if they don’t think it will be worth it.

You really need to know your audience and their concerns and shouldn’t ask for too much effort for too little reward. Or, to put it another way, if a program requires effort, time, and planning for families or adults to get there, then they will definitely expect something palatable in return. The question remains: “Are you providing enough return for their investment?” Emotional investment. Investment of time. Investment in their children, their education, their future.

For instance, it’s important to remember that families with two bread-winners, in a working class neighborhood, may not be willing, able, or even awake in order to attend weekend family programming. They are also not able to attend the standard early morning storytime. A Saturday becomes sacrosanct in a way that outweighs the possibility of attending library programming. In order to reach them you will need to tip the scale in the library’s direction or you could try the “backdoor”. The “backdoor” may be focusing on daycare centers, day programs, and schools. All are alternatives I’ve employed successfully. But always remember, even if their level of interest is high it may not be enough to gain their time. It is important to respect that element.

Let me give you an idea of what can happen when you ask for too much effort. I was part of a community photo-archiving day. We asked members of our community to bring their old photos to the library so we could scan, label and catalog the photos into our archives. What more could you ask for? We were offering to preserve their memories so others could learn and reflect upon those pictures, and the library was going to get to keep the archives populated with shiny, happy pictures. Recipe for success, right? Erm... no. It flopped, and here is why: Our demographic was an older population. We are asking them to:

1      Crawl into their attics.

2      Find old photos.

3      Lug photos out of the attic.

4      Drive to library.

5      Find PARKING!

6      Lug box of photos into library.

7      Wait in LINE!

8      Scan and then...

9      Lug photos back home, put them in the attic and hopefully take a nap.

Bottom line was that this was a great program with a serious ROI deficiency. And I apologize, gentle reader, for so flippantly tossing out an already overused twerm (twerp + term = twerm. A twerpy term), but ROI is the only way to capture the idea. Through the eyes of the older patron, this little gem of a photo-archiving program was a massive pain in the ass.

After it flopped so resoundingly, we brainstormed a few ways of sweetening the pot for another try. Some possibilities were including a CD ROM of the digital items, having a display of some of our more obscure images in our archives (my personal favorite was a collection of 1950-60s billboards that were really cool - pure retro eye-candy), or move the scanning into the community. Take it on the road! We thought we could find the places where our patrons wanted to be and be there. These increased the return for the patron while decreasing (or holding steady) the investment.

If you’re newish to programming, let me warn you (or remind you, if you’re experienced): please be careful with the incentives. They are a dangerous game to play. Do your attendees expect an external, physical reinforcement? Will they continue to expect it and will it lessen the actual impact or <gasp> quality of the program?

A standard at many a public library is the “Lunch and Learn” (or whatever permutation of “feed them and they will come” chosen). A good rule of thumb is to imagine what would happen if you said “Next month, due to a random occurrence beyond the scope of my ability to fix, there will be no lunch for this program.” Will they show up? Bring lunches? Skip it entirely? How important is the incentive to the buy in? I am confident that the removal of food at our “lunch and learn” would not greatly impact the attendance. Sure, we would lose a couple of attendees to the flirtations of a Hardees value pack and the History Channel but most would still attend because they are getting something out of it. The return is still higher than the investment.

However,  that is not always the case. Our family evening storytimes (complete with a pizza dinner) went in the opposite direction. After realizing that my programming budget would not support the amount of pizza patrons were eating and expecting, we had to cut it. Mind you, this was after having to create rules stating that families could not have pizza until after the storytime or after a number of books were read by the parents with their child.

Either way, the people went away with the pizza.

Bottom line: Before pitching, ditching or revitalizing a program, I try to view it from the perspective of a patron’s time, expectation and investment. Then hope that it balances out. If it doesn’t then perhaps the investment you are asking is too much.

John Pappas is a Branch Director at the Upper Darby Township and Sellers Free Memorial Free Public Library in Upper Darby, PA. This is his second post for this blog; the first was "The Seven Rules of Avoiding Poutreach." Say hi on twitter  @zendustzendirt or on Google +. He writes, raves and rants occasionally on his personal blog Point of Contact.

The Modern Book Club (meets in a bar), by Leah L. White

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Starting a library sponsored book club in a bar can be a wonderful experience. You connect to your community in ways you just can’t replicate in a library building. I currently run Books on Tap for the Northbrook Public Library, and before that, I helped run LitLounge, a co-sponsored book club between the Morton Grove and Skokie Public Libraries. Here are a few things that I have learned.

Making the Case

If you’re reading this, you are probably already convinced that starting a library book club in a bar is a great idea. But sometimes your manager or administration isn’t as keen on the idea, and if that is the case, you must make a good argument for why the library belongs in this location. The idea of a library run program with booze freaks some people out! So, if you find that you’re getting some resistance (or even if you’re not), you should try writing a proposal. Writing out your reasoning will not only help you formulate your argument, but also gives your manager or administration something to take to the board.

Some things to include in your proposal:

• The purpose of this book club is to attract and engage residents who may not already be attending library programming and possibly don’t even have library cards yet.
• These types of programs attract new patrons, of varied ages and backgrounds, and give the library a hip, new image.
• Make sure to include any area libraries that are already doing this sort of program already.
• A good library to reference is Oak Park Public Library, who has been running Genre X for over 7 years now without any issues.

Also pay close attention to your wording in the proposal. Sometimes getting people on board is as easy as changing your wording from “book club in a bar” to “book club in a restaurant”. And who doesn’t like restaurants?

20s and 30s?

It is pretty common for libraries to label book clubs like this as being specifically for people in their 20s and 30s, but this is going to vary from community to community. For example, Northbrook doesn’t have a large population of people in their 20s - so my target patrons are working adults between the ages of 25-50. Most of my actual attendees are 40 and up, and I try to keep this in mind when I’m thinking about book selection, advertising, and pretty much everything I do. For example, since most of my attendees are commuters who ride the train to work, I put flyers, and posters at our local commuter train station.

Location, Location, Location

The location of your book club can really make or break you. So do your research. Grab a library buddy and hit the town! Trust me. This part is fun. While out and about, think about whether the space you’re in could actually accommodate a book club. How loud is it? Is there a private room? Are there any large tables? And how is the service? You are going to be working closely with these people, so make sure you actually WANT to work with them.

Once you think you have scouted a location, ask to speak with a manager. This isn’t something you can just pop in and start doing – you absolutely have to communicate with your location. Find out when their slow days are and explain that you could bring 10-20 people on a slow night. That way, this is a good deal for them, too. And this part is super important, so I will bold it…are you ready? Make sure they know you need separate checks. I cannot stress enough how important this is, and remind your server at every meeting that you will all need separate checks, regardless of the number of attendees. If they are cool with it, then you have yourself a location.

Book Selection

Similar to location, book selection can make or break a book club. Put some serious thought into what books you think your target demographic will be interested in reading. What’s fun with this type of book club is you get to pick books you could NEVER pick for your in-library clubs. Think about hip, interesting reads. Honestly, think about what YOU want to read. It probably would be a good fit for your club. Still feel stuck? Try Book Riot, the Bookrageous podcast, or IndieBound. 

Promotion

Think outside the newsletter box. Don’t get me wrong – you need this in your newsletter. But make some cool posters and put them up all over town. Promote heavily on your library’s Facebook page. And most important, have some sort of presence at the location itself. Get some posters in the bathroom. If they will let you, create a deposit collection and stick your flyers in the books.

Hopefully this will help get you started. This program is so much fun and so very rewarding. And if you do it right, you can start a social outlet for the people in your community.


Leah White is a Reader Services Librarian at the Northbrook Public Library and a 2012 Library Journal Mover and Shaker. You can find her on Twitter, @leahlibrarian, or check out her website: leahwhite.weebly.com.