The Librarian Kate

I loved Michael Stephens’ Office Hours column this week, “Seek a Challenge:”

Coasting, in library school and in our jobs, is not an option. Sending students who have coasted through their LIS program to your library to coast perpetuates this problem. I can tell which students are merely sailing through their program, just as I can tell when a professor has “checked out” of his or her own job.

Students—are you doing the bare minimum in your LIS program? Are you turning in “good enough” papers that show no excitement, curiosity, or passion for librarianship? Or are you going above and beyond the expectations of your teachers? You get what you bring to your program.

The onus for change lies with both students and LIS faculty. Students should provide constructive evaluations of their learning experience. Faculty should respond with curricular changes and updated course offerings as quickly as possible. Library school administration should enable these conversations about change in an open, transparent process. LIS programs must be nimble and quick if they are to survive in the current economy.

It’s nice to see someone else (and someone with significantly more professional and academic clout than I) acknowledge this elephant in the room.  One of my gripes about library school was that it was the path of least resistance – students put in the bare minimum and walk away with the same grades as their more dedicated peers.  I resisted openly talking about this issue out of fear of coming across as smug.

Recent blog posts have discussed the need for change at the top, change at the bottom, change sideways, how to make the change, etc.   There’s no one golden ticket to reform/fix/transform LIS education.  It’s a collaborative effort.  All the stakeholders are going to have to ante up to the table and place your bets.  No one’s looking at their hand and folding, claiming they can’t do this or that for their students because of lack of funding, time, etc.

Whatever path to reform taken, there is one thing necessary – comprehension of the importance of challenge and personal growth.  Several of the librarians on Twitter have the rallying cry of  “#makeithappen.” I encourage you to go forth and do the same – go make something happen. Even if it’s a small self goal you tend to excuse off time and again, do it.  Once you conquer the smaller goals, the larger ones get easier.  And you might just be an inspiration to others.

Go all in with your chips, even when you don’t know what your opponent’s cards are.  Challenge yourself to be better, faster, stronger, smarter.   You and the world will be better for it.

I was lucky with the library school I attended – location (New York City) and teaching philosophy (all in person classes) led to numerous professional and social opportunities.  Coupled with my high energy, try anything once, personality, Library Land was my oyster.

A conversation with an online friend reminded me of this blessing.  She’s in a small LIS doctoral program at Emporia State University – 100 percent online studies, and a very small cohort (10 students).   Coupled with where she lives (Arkansas), it’s very difficult for her to find opportunities for professional growth, publishing and speaking engagements, and networking.

It led me to wonder what we are doing – on personal and institutional levels – to create and exchange ideas? Listservs and social networking are great for sharing ideas, but are we talking to our like minded peers and letting those ideas grow into formalized projects?  Are library schools showing students the variety of opportunity they have with the LIS degree or just pigeonholing them into the library building?  Individually, are we taking risks to share ideas (controversial as they may be) and seek out growth opportunities when our personal situations are less than ideal? It’s one thing to “like” a friend’s library article on Facebook, but it’s another to express your opinion on that article.

In my three years in this academic sphere, I applaud the warmth and openness of my peers.  Nowhere else have I felt so welcome, even when still a student.  But nothing in life is perfect, and there is still room for growth in this profession.  I watch the events in Egypt with a cautious eye, wondering what lessons on creating change we can take from the energy and perseverance of these protesters. They risk arrest and perhaps death for sharing their views, but they press forward.  We have less in our profession on the line (at least in the First World) and all the chance to make it happen.  Are we?

Thus, I ask these questions:  What are you doing – personally or institutionally -  to create opportunity? And is it enough?

I believe all publicity is good publicity – a podcaster friend always reminds me “haters still count as a download.”  But, San Diego’s KPBS gave a clear example of pure bad publicity this week, in a piece profiling “librarian/stand up comedian” Meredith Myers timed to coincide with the ALA Midwinter Meeting hosted in their city this past week:

Young, Hip Librarians Take Over (January 10, 2011)

Reaction towards what was probably intended to give younger library professionals a larger voice and break down traditional librarian stereotypes was swift and negative. Public librarian Janie offered the following:

I am no longer “young and emerging”, but I am very open-minded, always seeking change and tech savvy.

I agree, and look to my mom for inspiration. Mom is of the boomer generation and quite competent with a computer. She has her own Facebook page, pays all her bills online, spends more time watching TV on her laptop than the 52 inch LCD TV in the family room, and was an early adopter of a cell phone.  She may not have a smartphone yet, but I would not be surprised if she decided to get one in the near future. (And her Generation X daughter will be more than happy to help her learn to use it!) I remember wise words from the HR director at my former law firm – “When you stop learning, you’re in the box.”  Flippant, but pointed – education is a lifelong process, and one’s age on one’s driver’s license should not be equated with the capacity to take on new technologies.  To do so is absurd and an insult to all who live up to Janie’s beliefs.

My problem with the KPBS article extends past the smugness and implied notion that the libraries needs the dreadlocked, Doc Marten*-wearing MLS to remain relevant in the digital age.  Where were Meredith Myers’ librarian credentials? She only talks about the profession in the vaguest of terms.  Nowhere does it mention where she works, her job title or duties, or if she even has an MLS. (Venturing over to her blog found that yes, she does have the MLS – she is a recent graduate of the University of South Florida – but does not have a job.) It would have lent our subject much more credit if she talked to KPBS about her studies, internships, work she actually did in a library, etc. rather than ambiguous statements that smack of ego. And why interview her at all, a woman who seems to be making more of her mark as a comedian and actress who just happens to have an MLS?  KPBS could have chosen from any one of the 83 ALA Emerging Leaders** or scores of other young librarians (thousands if you count virtual participation) to interview to show the good that young librarians are doing in our community.  Instead, they pick someone whose comments and attitude makes the generational divide worse.  As Buffy, an Emerging Leader mentor*** and school librarian, states:

“Young and hip” does not always equate with “innovative, thoughtful, smart, and passionate.” I really hate articles like this–I think they create additional stereotypes, polarize the profession, and don’t really focus on what IS changing the profession…I agree we need to put forth a positive image, but you need more than flash and “cool” to make the difference in the long run.”

John, an academic librarian, questioned on Twitter why there is even a perceived link between dress and commitment to change:

I don’t think older librarians “resistance 2 change” should b equated w/ lack of fashion sense. it’s silly.

School librarian Sara offers the same idea:

Substance triumphs over style. What makes me a good librarian who creates an inviting space for teens has nothing to do w/ my shoe choices.

Rather than go on ad infinitum about the generational divide as it is a known concern throughout the field, what solutions are out there? My fellow EL Brandon offered his own lessons from the workplace:

I learned awhile ago that, when it comes to moving the profession forward, doing my damn job and giving my patrons as much of what they want as I can is far more effective than wearing Jinx clothing and dying my hair purple.

Another Brandon over on Twitter shares similar thoughts:

Generally speaking though, wouldn’t hurt to work on image assuming the core competencies are being met and prioritized. (Emphasis mine.)

This is practical, simple, and profound advice.  In the movie Stand and Deliver (if you haven’t seen it, rent it and thank me later) math teacher Jaime Escalante encouraged his students to go past the socio-economic roadblocks in their way to find their ganas – their desire – to learn calculus. He was closer in age to parent than peer, though he and his students bonded on an ethnic and cultural level.   Escalante’s lesson can be applied to the library workplace.  Do your job, do it well, and project a positive, service oriented image and philosophy to patrons. Show your ganas from the moment you walk in to the moment you lock the front doors. Then it won’t matter whether you’re in dreadlocks or a cardigan and bun. (Just be sure you’re meeting your workplace’s dress code.)

Buffy’s final advice:

[M]ake a difference with what you do and how you treat people, not necessarily how you look.

KPBS may have had good intentions at heart, but did more harm than good.  I expected better from a public television station.  If anyone from the station is willing to speak with me on their rationale for this, I will be more than happy to grant you equal time. The media should know that what you see from KPBS will not be tolerated, and that librarians of all ages are eager, willing, and able to show you what we have done to make our libraries fun, engaging community spaces.

We already have a generational divide – let’s not make it a generational Grand Canyon.  Those kind of gaps are much harder to close.

* The misspelling of Doc Marten as “Doc Martin” was one of several basic errors throughout the piece, including what I thought was a very blatant one in the first paragraph – characterizing the Midwinter Meeting as “its national conference,” implying that there was only one association conference per year when in fact, there is two.

** Full disclosure: I am an ALA Emerging Leader.

*** Full disclosure #2: Buffy is one of my Emerging Leader project team mentors.

First off, a big HOW-DEE!! to my fellow 2011 ALA Emerging Leaders who may have just subscribed to this blog after our listserv exchange today. Please keep your arms and legs inside the car and enjoy the ride.

While I know the readership of the blog is ensconced in librarianship in some capacity, chances are you have someone in your life that is thinking about it, hopefully thanks to your indirect influence. Not sure what to tell them? I suggest pointing them to my friend and fellow librarian rock star Lisa’s blog series, So You Want to be A Librarian/Archivist. It’s thoughtful, intelligent advice coupled with frankness about the reality of the library job market. These are things I should have considered in my own “I want to go to library school” thought process, but that is often how we learn best – through experience, good bad and ugly.

It inspired me to give my own advice, from a mental/emotional perspective. Want to go to library school? Don’t go to library school if any of the following apply:

1. You want to play with books all day. The work of a librarian goes beyond far beyond that, especially in the 21st century.
2. Closely related to #1, you want to work in one kind of library or one geographic location for the rest of your life. We’re past that kind of economy. It died with ERA in the early 80s (if not sooner). And if you’re in library school now, get that idea out of your head, stat. It turned my stomach – and still does – when I hear students and recent grads tell me they won’t look for jobs “north of Poughkeepsie” (student lived in NJ) or know their destiny is to work in a public library.
3. You’re having any sort of existential crisis, age-related or otherwise.
4. You want something easy. Sure, it’s easier compared to other programs, but that says more about your work ethic than anything else, which leads me to believe you weren’t really cut out for college either.
5. You just got laid off/fired and don’t know what to do with your life. Crisis is not the time to making significant life changes, and besides, you can live off severance/unemployment benefits for a time whilst you regroup.
6. Your parents told you to do something constructive with your life or they would cut you off financially. (Seriously, someone stood up in my survey course and gave this as his reason for going to library school. And he received the same degree as I. But that rant is a whole other story.)
7. You want to pursue another master’s course of study, but you’re scared of the GRE, and you have heard many library school programs don’t require it. (I took the GRE for a Ph.D admission application. It’s wickedly easy. In fact, I found it rather foolish to require the GRE for a Ph.D. program.)

Now, do go to library school if this applies:

You’re ready to work.

Whether or not you’re working in a library already, library school is going to teach you to work. It might not be the courseload, but you’re going to work.

• You’re going to work at networking, real and virtual.

• You’re going to work when it comes spiffing up your resume/CV/professional portfolio and reworking those same documents and websites over and over.

• You’re going to work when it comes to conference attendance – meaning, you’re going to go even if it means foregoing vacations with friends.

• You’re going to work to stay active in your student and local professional organizations.

• You’re going to work on finding a job. I sent about 20 – 25 resumes when I graduated college. When I graduated from Pratt ten years later, I sent 156 before landing a part-time job.

• You’re going to work on finding other opportunities to stay connected professionally, such as inventing your own projects. My podcasting workshops, and Lisa’s Dewey District Library study are examples of this. Position yourself as an expert in a topic related to libraries, someone who can open eyes and ears to knowledge – and doors will start opening for you.

• And above all, you’re going to work on keeping yourself sane during this entire process – because it can and will get insane and depressing.

You’ve looked at that list and said, “sure, I’m ready to work.” Then welcome to library school, friend.

(As for the podcast, I’m hoping to get something out on the feed tomorrow before I leave for Thanksgiving with my family in Florida. We’ll see if this happens.)