Degrees don’t make librarians – but neither do books.

flickr photo shared by State Library Victoria Collections under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC ) license

Things have been ranty on library Twitter this week. Yesterday was that racist and idiotic column in a LIS journal about librarian stereotypes that illustrated failures of editorial oversight. Today, I saw something from from the esteemed John Fink about MLIS vs. not argument. Turns out it’s from this post by Michelle Anne Schingler on Book Riot, “In Praise Of Non Degreed Librarians”. It touches upon so many of my pet peeves with the profession that make me want to scream, but (as long time readers of this blog know), I just rant here.

My main issues with the post are:

  1. An MLIS doesn’t make a librarian. Doing librarian work (whatever that is) does.
  2. Libraries are collections of books.

Schingler’s post starts with her confessing to a vendor that she doesn’t have an MLIS, so she can’t speak as a librarian. She then goes on to describe the dichotomy of the degree vs. not at her library, generalizing it to the wider profession. This conflict is old hat and is something we need to sort out. I have an MLIS and I think it was a valuable use of my time to earn it. I also knew that if I wanted to perform the kind of library work I’d like, then I’d need the degree to get those jobs. Does the degree make the professional? Well, kind of but not necessarily. I think you can be a librarian through other means, but it really depends on the system. I don’t know the author’s situation or what kind of position she has, but it could be that the MLIS would be nice but not necessary.

This sort of reminds me of a recent position we hired for at MPOW. We had 70 applicants for a library assistant (para-pro) position. Half of them had/were working towards an MLIS and most of those I didn’t look at twice. Why? They didn’t have the experience we needed – circulation and technical processing. They don’t teach you that in library school, but they are crucial functions to the operation of a library. There’s an art to circulation and item records that I don’t think enough people appreciate and I don’t think and MLIS makes you better at it. There are lots of other functions in libraries that don’t necessitate the degree that are hugely valuable. The thing we need to do collectively is recognize that for libraries to operate, it takes respect and support for all kinds of functions. Our new LA will be handling a lot of the library’s operations so I can focus on research projects and launching new initiatives. I’m thankful to have somebody I can trust with those tasks and respect their professionalism.

When people who talk about the divide of those with the MLIS or not, I hear hurt feelings and friction in their workplace. I will say, experience can teach you a lot but there’s also value in learning the philosophy and theory of practice. There’s not one single solution to being a good librarian/library worker/information professional/whatever.

Schingler’s post really lost me though with this passage:

You’re there for the love of it—that’s what patrons sense; that is the essence of the work. But that statement–the idea that librarians can be driven primarily by a love of books–is also a surefire way to draw ire from (some) MLSes.

She’s clearly working in a public library that has a lot of the traditional perceptions of libraries and librarians that are tied to warm feelings and a love of books. This is where she lost me and where I think an MLIS might be kind of valuable – librarie’s are way more than books and any LIS school worth anything these days is teaching people that.

I don’t really love books and I’m trying to figure out how to make our library completely digital because I think that will better serve our user community. Does that mean I’m a crummy librarian? The passion I bring to the table when talking to my colleagues isn’t a devotion to the container, it’s concern for accessibility and preservation. I want people to be able to use our collection (whatever it is) and find the resources they need to do their work. I don’t think that mission is different for public libraries, academic libraries, or special libraries (or wherever you fit on the spectrum) – we’re here to serve a community and often that means fostering and building that community. Libraries aren’t the collection, but the use of the collection. I don’t think my MLIS taught me that because I know this isn’t a universally held belief, but I think it helped me on the way to figuring that out. My library isn’t about books – it’s about access to journals and data. That’s what our researchers want.

So in closing, I don’t think an MLIS make a librarian and we need to value all library employees. I have no issues with people using the term “librarian” for all library professionals, but I also recognize the MLIS opens some doors that would otherwise be shut. I do think everybody should be open to learning and growing as professionals, and some of that is shaking loose old notions of libraries and librarians. One of the biggest things holding us all back (just as much as funding issues) is defining ourselves by the collection and focusing on books. We’re more than that. We’re better than that. It’s also a very old school, narrow view of the profession and I want to move beyond that.

Library day in the life – can I get a moment?

flickr photo shared by Blue Mountains Local Studies under a Creative Commons ( BY-SA ) license

I guess this is the week where we do the “library day in the life” thing where we blog about what we do during the day. It’s meant to highlight the diverse work libraries do and how we’re all busy doing a million things. I was going to blog on Monday, but I was too busy. Yesterday was equally harried. Today… a little calmer and I’m writing this as I quickly eat my sad work salad at my desk. I keep saying I’ll leave my office for lunch, but it hasn’t happened this week and it might not. I’ve resigned to that. This is my normal as a solo librarian right now. (See the previous post for more on that.)

The one thing that has been really apparent this week is the real struggle to compartmentalize and prioritize. Thing I need to get done in the moment and trumping things I want to get done. I would love to focus on cool, important project but I also don’t want to tell some confused and eager undergrad, “Sorry, I can’t help you request those books from storage because it’s not important to me.” That would be crossing a horrible line and we’re not there yet.

I can quantify my week

  • correspondence – lots of small urgent emails
  • processing – copy cataloging and indexing
  • meetings – conference calls abound
  • service – people still have research questions
  • circulation – our student employees help, but they can’t do it all

Projects are hard to carve out. I spent most of Monday afternoon trying to install and configure a wiki for a committee. That was frustrating and fun. There’s some other stuff I owe people, but in a few minutes I need to go be in the library and well… it’s hard to get much done beyond short tasks.

I feel like the cat in this picture.

That’s my life.

I’m on an Island: Thoughts on solo and subject librarianship

flickr photo shared by virgo200745 under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-ND ) license

This post started off with my reaction from Erin White’s great insights about why she’s stayed at VCU. Then it was spurred on by Chris Zammarelli’s post about his personal brand following a brief Twitter rant of mine. So here we are.

I am using this picture of some guy named Don because I often joke that I look like a certain kind of guy from the 60s. Ernie Douglas, Jack Nitzsche, Hank Marvin, Pets Sounds era Brian Wilson, and this guy. I tend to get fixated on things and then try to go as deep and obscure as possible. It’s my approach in life. Don, he captures my mood today.

I’ve been a solo librarian at MPOW for a month now. It’s been a very hectic, overwhelming, and stressful month, but it’s also kind of exciting. I’m not writing this blog post for sympathy or pity, but I also think a lot of my colleagues have no idea what it’s like staying at a library until it gets to this point. I also think a lot of my colleagues who are use to larger organizations don’t understand the kind of politics we play in small, subject specialty libraries in organizations where libraries are not the main focus. We’ll just call them special libraries.

I hope my colleagues who read this understand why their well intentioned advice misses the mark. Why I won’t just move on to move up, and why I am focusing my energy on this narrow field (transportation librarianship), even if it means less money and security.

White makes the excellent point that she’s grown her career not by moving on to move up, but by investing in her institution and going deep into the work. I’m also plagued by negative thoughts that maybe I should have moved on from here by now. I started working here in 2005, but my job has drastically changed in the last decade. I still affirm that as long as the position and the work evolves, I will stay. From student worker, to circulation manager, to head of public services, and to now acting director, I’ve grown as the library shrank. When I started we had a staff of 8 and 10 students. Now it’s me and 2 students, but we’re hiring so it won’t be so bad.

I love being able to have a hand in much of what the library does. Cataloging? Yeah, I get it. Circ? I’m on that, too. Research services? It’s just me. Collection development? Me again. I am the website. In planning for this period as a solo librarian, I mentioned to my new supervisor about balancing my time with keeping the library open – they didn’t realize those fundamental questions were on the table. Now everything’s on the table as we figure out the future, and I think it’s going to be a really bright one. At the same time, the weight I feel on my shoulders to keep this ship afloat is real. If I call in sick, the library will be closed and service will be nil. I would love to take the time to focus on some projects, but I also know I need to be here with the door open so that students, faculty, and staff can use the library. Despite the great proclamations, not everything is online.

And this is where I’m frustrated with my colleagues. Coverage – there is none. It’s not that if I’m out a day stuff piles up and I have a backlog, though that’s true. It’s that when I’m not here, the library is closed. Our hours are pretty minimal as it is due to staffing cutbacks, I’m feel a strong obligation to be there for our community because the collection and the space are still used. I need to be here for it to be. My presence is required until we hire another staff person in the library. So all my big dreams and goals are being pushed off and chipped away slowly while we stabilize things. Some of it is saying no and letting go, but we need to do an inventory first.

For a lot of special libraries, this isn’t that special – it’s just reality. I’m telling my story because I don’t think a lot of librarians recognize it. If I worked in a big, sprawling academic library I probably wouldn’t either. But I don’t, I work here and things are tight. There’s also politics. Politics here are different than a large academic library. It’s a small community and everybody knows each other despite being spread out across the country. I can’t do anything without thinking about how others will perceive it and how it might affect funding and future funding.

So why am I still here? Well, I don’t want to bail on this place. This library has long legacy of supporting transportation research and I don’t see that ending. It’s evolving like we all are, but the need hasn’t gone away. Though it’s hard work to pivot the library, it’s also exciting and rewarding. I feel like my work’s not done. I don’t want my personal legacy here to be just downsizing, I want to grow this place. It’s going to happen and this is the inflection point.  I also can’t quit the field. Transportation is an important convergence of many different things and all of it matters. There’s a direct tangible benefit to the work we do and I’ve grown to care very deeply about solving transportation issues. I believe in the mission of MPOW. There also aren’t many opportunities to work in transportation libraries, so I don’t want to jump too soon. By now my knowledge of the field is pretty deep and I understand the system pretty well. If I move to a more traditional library, this kind of policy understanding won’t matter as much, and that’s just not as exciting to me.

So I’m not the type to move on, and really I’m not looking for a directorship even though I fell into one for now through attrition. I am interested in trying new things, doing good work, and solving problems. I have a lot of opportunity to do that here right now. If I wanted glory and fame, I wouldn’t be here. Recognition is great, but I’d rather work to help my direct colleagues highlight their work better and get all the praise and accolades they deserve.

So right now I’m on an island and that’s a lot of pressure, but I knew it would be and that’s life. For many librarians, this is the nature of our jobs. I’m special but not that special. I just don’t think a lot of librarians realize what it’s like when you’re it.

Access isn’t a fad: Tech-washing libraries

flickr photo shared by BioDivLibrary under a Creative Commons ( BY ) license

MPOW is going through some major changes this year – the library director retired this month, the institute has a new strategic plan, and I’m trying to figure out what the future holds for the library. It’s exciting but also a bit daunting because of the regular “why do we have a library?” questions, which are usually followed up with a, “isn’t that what Google is for?”

So with that on my mind, the recent post by the regularly insightful Sarah Glassmeyer entitled, “The Tech-Washing of Information Access” really hit home. My reaction was a raised fist in solidarity and a “duh”, but of course I deal with this issue daily. She describes the situation where technologists discuss solving information access issues, and yet not a single librarian is involved in the conversation. She ends with this:

I worry that grant monies and other capital (human and otherwise) is going into projects and schemes that may not go the distance needed when looking at information access and preservation issues. Fail fast and fail often is great, but not when institutions that have been around for hundreds of years are pushed out of the space and then, after failure, an information desert is left in the place where a library once stood. Yes, libraries should change to meet modern needs of information consumers, but how can that happen when we’re continually left out of the conversations that dictate what the important needs of the future are?

The way things are funded on a grant or project basis, long term access is hard to account for. The assumption is that somebody, either a vendor or non-profit, will maintain it. Good luck with that. When the project is no longer deemed profitable, valuable, or necessary, it will disappear. (RIP Google Reader!) Libraries and librarians have been in the business of figuring out how to maintain collections of things for the long-term as the world around us changes – keeping things going between the grants and funding cycles. We need to consider that just because the funding runs out or the topic is not longer in vogue, the utility of the information doesn’t disappear. Librarians, we need to be shouting this and getting it into the conversation. There are several technology folk out there who get it, and know they need to keep us in the loop. Unfortunately now with the ease of digital collections, lots of people think they get preservation and access from a library angle. It’s great until their attention moves on to something else, and we’re left with a gaping hole.

So that’s part of my explanation of why we still need a library. Of course funding is the other critical issue. If you know how to make “long term, reliable access and discovery” sound exciting, let me know!

Which then leads me to a tweet I saw this morning:

People love gushing over cool, old collections of stuff that have been saved, preserved, and digitized by libraries and archives. Take that cool shark painting I’m using for this post that was uploaded to Flickr by the Biodiversity Heritage Library. I’m happy they had the funding and support to do that. I am not happy that a lot of cool projects that leverage these efforts gloss over the work of libraries and archives. Ignoring or minimizing their contributions jeopardize their existence. In some ways it’s comforting to see that digital humanities are as bad at is as the sciences, but really it needs to stop.

Librarians – to serve, protect (and entertain)

flickr photo shared by North Carolina Digital Heritage Center under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-ND ) license

The role of librarians, libraries, why I’m a librarian, what’s the meaning of it all, and what the future holds has been weighing heavily on my head for a while. It kicked into a high gear this past fall when the institute I work for had its 10 year, external academic review. “Why is there a library?” was asked. “Because it was part of the original plan 60 years ago” is a terrible answer (and not the one I gave). The process of the review helped remind me why we’re here and remind those around us: We’re the collective memory. We preserve access for tomorrow. We have a broad view that fills the gaps of individual projects. That eye on yesterday, today, and tomorrow is critical in the library’s success.

This morning I read Sarah Glassmeyer’s post “What is a Librarian?” and it resonated with me. Her reframing of Ranganathan’s Five Laws Of Library Science are timely and make the reasons why they’re important more explicit. It also encapsulates a lot of my personal philosophies and motives which reminds me why was drawn to the profession, and why I tend to approach my hobbies the way I do. I don’t like books, but I love context, connections, and curation. These motivations have guided my approach to my work in transportation (and also my DJing).

To quote one of my favourite bands, I’m here “to serve, protect, and entertain.”

This ethical frame is even more pertinent this morning as Stewart Varner’s account of how his and Patricia Hswe’s article in American Libraries was hijacked by the editorial staff. From my reading, it seems that the editors at American Libraries really screwed the pooch in turning the article into an advertorial piece for a vendor without making it explicit with the authors, not apologizing, or making it clear. The discussion I’ve seen on Twitter and Facebook has been a mix of “American Libraries sucks!” (which I can’t speak to, since I don’t read it) and “vendors are the worst!”, which doesn’t totally seem to the be the case here but it also reflects the messy relationship with librarians, professional associations, and vendors.

Basically, we librarians are terrible at collectively standing up to vendors to treat us with respect, such as not doing advertorial bait and switches. Sometimes the rhetoric gets out of line, but at the core it’s the lack of trust and respect by all involved. If the products were good, fairly priced, and responsive to our needs, then it would be great. This is where professional associations would fill a great need – to facilitate broad industry negotiation. Perhaps I’ve been too involved with SLA, but I don’t see that ever happening. (You can read some of my concerns about “vendor partners” here.) We need to do better though if we actually want to protect. The interests of libraries should benefit as wide of an audience as possible – and that isn’t mutually exclusive with our late market capitalism. So when stuff like this goes down, speak up and address the issue in the moment. Right now it’s editorial transparency from a trad magazine. Tomorrow it will be something else. Keep going though, so we can continue to serve, protect (and entertain).