Fake it 'til you make it

There's been a theme to the advice I've gotten this week: act confident even if you don't feel it.  This has always been one of those things that confuses me massively - I don't believe in lying to myself about how I feel, as I've learned from hard experience that it's a good way to lose touch with what's going on in your head. 

On another level, I still have a hard time grasping the idea that I deserve to have confidence.  A look at my work should reassure me, but instead it seems unreal, or as if I magically slipped by somehow.  I'm my own harshest critic, the first to tear down my own ideas, the one that notices how unambitious, illogical, and unfocused I can be.  When I behave with confidence, good things happen, but I feel ridiculous - like a faker making a fool of myself in front of the world.

So far this has been pretty consistent with my worldview.  I've gotten through life by finding out what others want from me and making it happen, doing what's expected of me, meeting standards.  Given the landscape of libraryland, it's hard to say what the standards are going to be, and that's rough for me. 

On the one hand, it can be paralyzing, but it also puts me in a position where I have the freedom to be a success at whatever the hell I think librarianship should be.  I just have to choose not to be paralyzed, and to give a big middle finger to my own inner critic.  I doubt that this will be a change that will come easily, but I've gotten to a point where doing what's expected is no longer satisfactory or effective.  I need to stop waiting for opportunities to take advantage of, and start deciding what I want to do and doing it.

On gaming, networking, and other things

Gaming is an odd thing.  It can be a learning tool, an entertaining form of play, a social lubricant, and an intense obsession.  I would by no means call myself a gamer, but this semester I've found myself participating in more games than at any other point in my life.  I have had some great experiences with it: trivia and other game nights have been the main way that I've gotten close to new people this semester.

After Scott Nicholson's presentation and the role playing game, I wound up feeling somewhat ambivalent.  I grasp his point about the value of games, but my personal experiences have left me feeling like using games for the sake of gaming is not always the best choice.

I loved Scott's lecture on networking.  I felt that he included some really straightforward, useful advice, and he made me feel like there were ways for me to learn to be comfortable having a conversation with anyone.  The game we played had the exact opposite effect on me.  I despise games where I have to memorize a role, and any game where I feel that I'm being tricked (like the bean game in 601) makes me irritable.  In this particular game, I was assigned to behave as a library professor - formal, rational, with a sizeable social distance and an aversion to being touched beyond a handshake.  The other players were very outgoing, touchy, and pushy.  I understood that the exercise was supposed to illustrate certain situations that we'll encounter in the professional world - mismatched social distances, religious differences, opposing opinions - but I found myself genuinely shaken by the experience of being cornered by other players.  The point I came away with was that even after a semester of socializing and developing my confidence...I'm still shy and really not good at this stuff.

Maybe it was still a valuable experience?  Maybe it showed me how far I still have to go.  But I definitely wished that this particular lesson had been taught differently.  Putting me in a social situation and asking me to be outgoing is one thing, and I anticipate practicing that a bit during the poster session.  But having me put on a fake personality and attempt to interact with other people...terrifying.

I have a couple of books about gaming at the moment, and I will be looking into it more closely, particularly because I do think it could be really great for our teen group.  I'm hoping I can figure out how to productively incorporate it into my own brand of library service without just throwing it in for its own sake.

Shh!

Does anyone ever get the feeling that we should be having some of our discussions about the mission of libraries in super secret whispered conversations?

I'm starting to feel like there's a real disconnect between what we believe and the values we're charged to uphold, and the face we have to present to the public.  I've been thinking about this for a while, and in tonight's "lecture" when Eli Neiburger noted that "if libraries didn't exist we wouldn't be allowed to create them" it really hit home for me.  What that says to me is that our nation has radically shifted from the values that compelled us to create libraries in the first place, and that if the public grasped the full implications of the interaction between "free access to information" and "the free market" we'd all be shouted down as socialists, at best.  (Not implying a value judgment on socialism, just pointing out that given the state of national conversation, "socialist" is about the nicest thing a person can expect to be called). 

But at the heart of our mission is the belief that access to information shouldn't have anything to do with economic standing, that in fact it is critical to democracy that this be the case.  I cannot claim to understand anything involving economics or law, but more and more lately I'm sensing an essential conflict between democracy and capitalism, and it irritates me that the two seem so wound around each other in public discourse.  I feel like so much of our discussion leads back to the fact that the capitalist model is just not adequate when the commodity we're talking about is information.

So my fear is that we're currently moving to a more and more restrictive and proprietary model, which will eventually choke off free discourse even further.  Librarians are in a position to resist that, but I worry that in doing so we'll open ourselves up to scrutiny from people who will argue that we're hurting the free market (ignoring the marketplace of ideas btw).  How can we maintain our All-American apple pie image while driving radical change in how information is distributed?  

Looking ahead

Two years sounds like a long time, but it's really not.  I'm freaked out that this semester is almost over.  It's gone by in a blink.  On the one hand I'm looking forward to getting into the meat of the program, but I find myself panicking at time slipping by.  I'm contemplating next semester.  I'm glad that many of the people I've gotten to know will be in my one on-campus class with me.  My online classes sound interesting and fun, and I'll be starting fieldwork for school media.  I'm still working at the library, and I'm getting more involved in running the teen program there.  And Meg Backus is teaching a class that sounds really exciting.

What worries me is the time situation.  It's hard to figure out exactly what is the tipping point - would I be okay if I skipped Meg's class and just kept up with the flow of ideas from classmates?  Or is fieldwork on top of three classes on top of work already insanity?  Is it so insane that I might as well just take the fourth class since I won't be sleeping anyway?

I know that a schedule like this can be managed with organization and discretion.  However, those are not my strong points.  (I know, a disorganized librarian, awful.)  Organization...what can I say.  I at least keep a running to-do list, but my physical and psychic space is in a constant state of chaos.  As far as discretion, I've come to this place with the mindset that I am going to exploit every opportunity and be my best self and make friends dammit!  So the only real limitation I've placed on myself is my work schedule.  Most things that don't conflict with it, I try to say yes to.  Maybe that will have to change, but I have very little experience in the space between being social and being a recluse.  Add to this the consideration that my classmates are fellow librarians and hanging out with them frequently leads to really interesting and inspiring discussions. 

All things to ponder.  I'm still trying to find that balance between having a life (and to be clear, I don't mean partying, but rather doing dishes and feeding my turtles and grocery shopping) and being the best librarian I can be.  Is there a point where you just have to acknowledge that there's not going to be any balance in these next few years and just go all in?

Anyway.  The universe has forced my hand, and I will be grocery shopping tonight.  I ran out of sugar for my damn coffee.

Just a quick note:  I totally agree that the value of any item is socially constructed rather than inherent.  That doesn't mean that as librarians we can't add our voices to the conversation and contribute our perspective if we believe that something is important, but it does mean that knowing our communities is just as important as knowing our collections.  If we want to end up as repositories of obsolete junk, shutting ourselves off and disengaging from dialogue with the social context of our collections is a great way to do it.

Cry

Dear SU/fate/the universe,

Why must every cool thing that happens on campus land directly in the middle of either class or work?  First the meditation class, then the dinosaur lecture, and now Apolo Ohno?  On the first Saturday I've had to work?  Not cool.

Crying into my Halloween candy,
Me

(Yes I realize that what this actually means is that I just spend all my time at either school or work, but it feels rather cosmic.)

When librarians party

what a contrast

Today was one of those weird collision course kind of days - jam packed schedule from start to finish, and some things just had to give.

Unfortunately one of those was the first meeting of Library in the Library.  I was literally on my way there when I got a text from Sarah saying that she was on campus and free to work on our presentation.  It was a tough choice but I decided to be responsible.  I still thing LITL will be great for me, as the get-together last Wednesday was extremely productive, but I regret having had to skip it today.  I do think that surrounding myself with people like Meg will be the key to getting me beyond the boundaries of what I've imagined for myself.

On the other hand, archives calls to my lesser self.  Seriously.  I was actually contemplating how well my art/framing background would transition into conservation - I'd get to do all the fun stuff and hang out in the basement with the nerds and never have to deal with people!  Archives has always been sort of my secret curiosity.  Had I not come to SU and been locked into the school media track, I might have taken a few electives in archives to try it out.  But the thing is, I came back to school because I felt no sense of meaning in framing (however satisfying the creative side was) and because I felt that I would never be compelled to grow if I stayed in a production/retail environment.  Getting out of my own head is a big part of this process, and as tempting as it is to just drop all the learning styles and motivational profiles and state standards that I've been grappling with and go back to Filmoplast and acid-free adhesives, I know that it would defeat the purpose of my being here.

Library in the Library represents where I want to be: a member of a community, and a practitioner of a living profession.  Archives might be fantastically fun, and maybe even a better fit to my innate personality, but I really think it's just not where I'm supposed to be.

Have I mentioned...

How much I love my classmates/job/parents/classes/apartment/life? 

Life is so weirdly, massively busy right now, but it is undeniably good.  I'm finally getting to take classes in my field, work and class are presenting all sorts of interesting challenges, and when it's gotten overwhelming my classmates have been insanely supportive.  (Ranging from texting me encouragement, to helping me find resources, to actually coming to my library and volunteering an entire shift.) 

I'm not used to enjoying being so busy, or enjoying being around people so much.  I'm really not even used to enjoying being awake most of the time.

Grad school is neat.

This did not begin as a post about cataloging

Given the size of my to-do list, and the intensity of my current headache, I'm going to keep this week's post brief.

My favorite part of last week's class (aside from #daveheart and Nerds [honestly, what were you thinking?  they're like tiny little maracas!]) was learning a bit more about MARC and cataloging.  I have a soft spot for MARC, as my first ever library job was a 5-month stint as a temp cataloger for the BOCES school library system.  I learned the absolute basics of copy cataloging and spent those 5 months doing my best to wrangle semi-coherent entries out of the mess of information that librarians chose to send me (often no more than a title and author).  I definitely learned that even if you don't expect to do cataloging as part of your job, you need to understand the basics if only to prevent a cataloger from someday killing you in your sleep. 

That said, I can absolutely see how an inflexible system like MARC is no longer adequate, particularly for virtual objects.  I'm sure that this will be another one of those issues that I find myself obsessing over.  I'm grateful for the experience with MARC, as I do think it's been helpful in giving me a general picture of how items are currently accessed.  It's fun to ponder the possibilities though.  On the one hand I could excuse myself from the whole debate and just say that as a school librarian it'll be out of my hands, but I sort of wonder whether a school library is almost an ideal place to experiment with new ideas.  You have a relatively small collection, limited and tightly controlled interaction with other libraries, and a captive test population...  Could be fun!

My encounter with the Nook

Interestingly, today was staff development day at my library, and our first session focused on (what else) e-books. Specifically, the Nook, which is put out by Barnes and Noble. I also had the opportunity to play with a Sony e-reader.

Within a few minutes of the start of the presentation, I started thinking that maybe I do actually want one. They're smaller than I imagined, and super cute. The Nook is about half the size of an Ipad, and has a little touchscreen at the bottom that you use to control everything.

I felt like I was pestering this poor woman trying to present to us, but I had a lot of questions. The device has a lot of pretty amazing features:

• Unlike the Kindle, its file format is universal, meaning you can load PDFS and other files onto the Nook, and use Nook files on other devices. This includes image and sound files, including audiobooks. The Nook does not include text-to-voice which I am not happy about (the rep claimed it's because the technology is just not good enough, which seems like a lame excuse, in terms of accessibility) but can run an audiobook and an e-book simultaneously.
• Font size is completely adjustable, which is probably common to all e-books, but I felt it was a worthy feature in that any book can become a large print book.
• As is frequently mentioned, it can be read in full sunlight. Memory is replaceable, and can be expanded to hold up to 17,000 books. Batteries are replaceable and cost 30 dollars. Because we have a Barnes and Noble locally, devices can be immediately replaced if necessary, and the rep said that it's a no-fault situation as long as there isn't "a footprint on the screen".
• Purchasing a book and downloading it literally takes under a minute. You have to provide a credit card number and name which is stored as part of your account. Up to six e-readers can be registered to one account, meaning that you can share your collection with others, as long as you're willing to share the payment method. This is handy for people with family overseas, who cannot legally download American published e-books. That particular tariff law was one of the biggest drawbacks I could see to this format. You literally have to be standing on American soil to download many e-books. However, so long as someone in the States can access the account, they can make the purchases and the books will appear on every Nook registered to that account.
• I asked about the extent of materials available in e-book format. She said that certain publishers were dragging their feet, and others do not sponsor their authors to publish in this format unless the author does it on their own, but that Nook has the most extensive library because publishers are mostly likely to go with their universal file format that can be marketed to any e-reader.
• The way the device is designed allows for constant upgrades. All buttons except for the page turns are integrated virtually as part of the color touch pad. If the keyboard needs a new button or a new feature requires redesign of the controls, that can be done without upgrading hardware. I thought that was a really clever way of extending the useful life of the device. The rep said that Barnes and Noble envisions the life of each Nook lasting in the range of 6-7 years.
• We talked a bit about PubIt!, which is Barnes and Noble's self-publishing tool. It seems like a pretty neat setup. You upload your book, and you are required to sell it for at least a dollar. So Barnes and Noble makes money off of people who even only publish their own book and buy a copy. The author keeps about 40% of the revenue and the rest stays with Barnes and Noble. The rep said that this was a pretty typical split, but frankly I don't know enough to know if that's true or not. I could see this being a pretty fun project to do with a high school class though.

So while all of this is going on, two Nooks are being passed around the room. Finally one of them reaches me and I start to play with it. I push a button, and the screen flashes to black then reloads. I push another button, the same thing happens. I start wondering if I've broken it. I quietly pass it on.

Turns out that e-ink works kind of like an etch-a-sketch, and that the refresh is necessary to display the next set of text. The Sony e-reader was exactly the same, and I assume the Kindle as well. I ended up asking about it, and the rep said that only about 1 in 5 people notice the flash. Apparently I'm one of the unlucky ones. I found it so distracting that I can't imagine myself ever sitting and reading comfortably. The screen also did not scroll, it loaded a single page at a time, which I didn't care for. Those are things that might change in future upgrades, as the rep said that the refresh speed had improved dramatically since the device was first released. Still, I was shocked at what I saw as really shitty functionality on an otherwise beautiful device.

So after my encounter with the Nook, I still find myself debating. I would love to have the ability to load my PDFs for class onto a reader and read in bed instead of trying to relax with my netbook propped up next to me. I've used the Ipad and love it, but it's really too big to be comfortable as an e-reader. Plus the Nook and Sony will be compatible with Onlib's collection, which would be a nice bonus. But unless the technology improves, I can't see myself going that route.

As an aside, the rep mentioned that when the Nook was brand new, it was released to tech bloggers to review. The Nook store features a display of the most popular titles, and apparently during the period when only the bloggers had the device, the most popular titles were erotica and Star Wars. Hmm.

Just to be safe...

I've already blogged some thoughts about my interview with Jane Tretler, but since that was before I realized that a reflection piece was required, I have a bit to add to it.

First of all, Jane's description of splitting her time between schools was a bit scary. It's not that I don't think I could do it, but that it seems like it must really diminish how well a librarian can perform. She told me that currently each school in the district has a certified librarian, and it's allowing them to not only focus fully on their own communities, but also to collaborate with each other. The elementary librarians can talk to the middle school librarian and find out where students need extra support. They can arrange projects where the kids communicate between schools. I'm sure that covering multiple schools is rewarding in a "plugging the leaks" kind of way, but in the end I can't see how it wouldn't be detrimental to the students and to the librarian.

It was also pretty cool to hear about how she's evaluated, in terms of creating yearly goals. It seems like exactly the sort of thing I would need to keep myself moving forward and trying new things. It was interesting to hear about the support she receives from BOCES as well. I worked for BOCES through a temp agency when I first moved to Utica, so I enjoyed getting a fuller picture of that relationship.

The main thing that Jane impressed on me is the fact that the job requires you to be a lifelong learner. You can never assume that you know enough to do the job - you have to create knowledge to do the job better. It was great to talk to someone who's been in the field for so long, and honestly it was cool to go back to where I spent a great deal of my time as an 8 year old and see how it's adapted. The overall point is that there's so much potential, but only if you're constantly seeking and implementing better ideas.

On ebooks (of course)

Am I the only one who doesn't like the idea of all the "value added" content? Everyone seems so excited about "this will link seamlessly to there! And show you this when you read that!" Not that I'm against new formats, but one thing that I like about print is that it's linear. I don't even like sidebars or footnotes! I like being able to go from beginning to end and know that I haven't missed anything. I found the 601 modules infuriating because each one linked to so much more content. I hear people getting all excited about how much more content can be packed in, and I shudder.

On the one hand, sure, it's cool that you're breaking down the barriers between "this is what this book says" and "here's the community of knowledge that exists on the topic", but at the same time it makes the reading experience harder to ever "finish". Maybe that's the point. Maybe I just fall at a weird point in this debate, and as kids start growing up with hyperlinked text they'll adapt more seamlessly. I figure it'll be especially important for me as a school librarian to embrace anything that promotes an integration of literacies. I've only recently started reading graphic novels, and even that is a challenge for me, but I can see how kids benefit from being able to interpret that format.

Maybe a better way of looking at this is, forgetting about books and cds and photographs, what is the best way to integrate and present human knowledge in a useable package? I don't think the result will look like e-books, but it's something to contemplate. And honestly, who better to compile such a thing - an authoritative package of "what you need to know" on any given topic? Why not librarians? Actually, why anyone else? Well, profit, I guess. But I'd feel much better knowing that the way we receive information in the future could be shaped by librarians rather than corporations.

Anyway, now I'm late for work.

Four words -> Blog post!

I love how once in a while, a little bit of perfect language acts like a lens and beams clarity right into my brain. I'm sitting here reviewing Standards for the 21st Century Learner in Action, and I just ran across this fantastic description:

"The school library media center serves as a laboratory of active learning where students may develop their skills, hone their attitudes, practice their responsibilities independently, and regulate their own learning."

I freaking love this. It meshes wonderfully with everything else I've been pondering. It takes the focus off of the books and puts it onto the learners. Looking at a library as a kind of lab makes so much more sense. It's the one place in a school where students can work independent of a curriculum, with as many resources as possible, including a librarian. Looking at it that way not only opens up possibilities for the inclusion of a variety of non-traditional resources, but also affirms the importance of the library as place. Sure, lots of stuff is available online, but the school library should be a safe, welcoming place for exploration; it's within the school but outside rigid class requirements.

Love love love. Yay perspective!

Taking the hint

Sometimes I believe that nothing matters and everything is random, and sometimes I can believe that everything has consequences and that crazy shit is interconnected.  Like dinosaurs.  And librarianship.

So I think the universe is trying to tell me something.

I've been saying for a couple of years that if librarianship didn't work out, my backup career was velociraptor.  It was a fun little joke, and provided some entertainment during slow shifts when I would practice my claws.

But it just keeps coming up!  Dinosaurs and librarians.  Librarians as dinosaurs.  And it's making me realize: I don't have to choose.  I just have to shift my thinking a little bit.

When I did my interview for this class, Jane referred to herself as a dinosaur for still preferring print books.  It's something you hear a lot - unless we modernize, we'll go extinct.

But why is dinosaur our go-to synonym for old, outdated, slow or irrelevant?  Judging by the number of children's books about them, dinosaurs are still alive and well in the human imagination.  Even better - they are an extension of the human imagination.  We've taken their bare bones and constructed an epic story from them.  And we've imagined dinosaurs as badass. 

So I ask, why do I have to choose between being a librarian and a dinosaur?  Why can't I be both? 
Why can't I reimagine my role as a librarian and throw in a little extra toughness and cleverness and claw?  Maybe some roar, on special occasions?

It's not a safe career anymore.  There are constant challenges (asteroids if you will.  fuck yes metaphor) that threaten to take us out.  We can view "going the way of the dinosaurs" as an ending, or as an impetus to reinvent ourselves as something completely amazing. 

Let's continue testing fences. :)

same place twice? sound bite  Jurassic Park Official sound bites

Annoying whiny post

Is grad school kicking anyone else's ass?

It seems like everyone is way ahead of me on work.  I understood that trying to balance three classes and a job would be a challenge, and I was excited about it.  And in most ways I think it's been good for me - it's pushing my boundaries and forcing me to be tough.  I'm becoming more outgoing and on average happier more of the time than I was before.  And I'm getting more real library experience and opportunities to take on real, meaningful projects.

But I do feel like I'm falling behind on schoolwork, and given that I've already cut out things like cooking, cleaning and sleep I worry about catching up.  I worry about not having good enough ideas to be valuable to my employer.  I worry about being so frazzled that I can't take good care of my turtles.  I worry about my landlord freaking out at the dishes in the sink. 

I want this to be an immersive, enriching experience in all things libraries, but I'm struggling to balance doing "enough" on that front and doing the bare minimum to keep the rest of my life running.

I guess maybe this would be better suited to the Scared/nervous/anxious board, but it's how I'm feeling and I don't feel the need to be anonymous.  Anyone else feel this way?  Any suggestions?

Awesome

I met the coolest kid in the world today.  More on her in a second...

I observed a first grade library lesson as part of a course requirement.  I've sat in on library classes for a variety of ages, but never any so young.  It's no secret that I'm not particularly comfortable with little kids, so I went in as neutral as possible, ready to observe.  I was kind of surprised at how interested the kids were in me.  One girl walked through the door, stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me and went, "WHOA.  Who are you?"  Several others got really excited when Jane explained that I was studying to be a librarian like her. 

The lesson itself was really instructional for me.  Jane has a great presentation style, and had a lot of tricks for keeping 20 wiggly six year olds engaged.  It was actually reassuring to hear that she felt that this had been her most challenging session so far this year. 

The highlight for me came after the actual lesson though.  This little girl came up to me and started showing me her book, which happened to be about snakes.  After we admired all the snakes in that book, she put it away and came back with a field guide on reptiles.  Score!  She asked me to sit with her, so we went through the book and pointed out different kinds of snakes, lizards and turtles.  I was thinking, of all the children and all the books in the universe, how did this kid know to come to me with a book about reptiles? 

Anyway, I had fun.   Hopefully she keeps up the reptile love. 

Career porn

Pretty much.

Anyone who talked to me after Wednesday's class, or experienced the absolute tear I went on via Facebook can tell you that I'm psyched about this school library stuff.  After spending 23 years not having a clue what I wanted to do with my life, finally hitting on something that I find meaningful and fun and exciting is an immense relief.  It's great to hear librarians talking about what they do, and not only thinking that I'd like to do it, but that I'm actually capable of it and believe I'll be great at it.

It was fantastic to hear from Sue Kowalski.  Not only was it pretty sweet to check out the library scene at my alma mater (yes I just used that word) but I was actually really thrilled to hear that she was less than enthused about working with younger kids.  I know that being certified K-12 will imply a certain amount of time spent with children, and that I need to be open to that possibility when it comes time to find a job, but it was a relief to hear that it's okay for a school librarian to have issues with little kids. 

I shadowed an elementary librarian last year, and it honestly wasn't as bad as I imagined - I'm used to seeing kids at the public library where they tend to act out.  They were much better behaved at school than I expected. 

But still.  Even as a kid I did not like other kids.  I distinctly remember getting in trouble for not sharing my toys, not because I was selfish, but because I was grossed out by other kids.  Kids are erratic, noisy, volatile, messy, inexperienced, uninhibited, and they lack body control.  I know that other people relish these challenges, but I just don't.  I haven't been around kids - no siblings, no babysitting, no close relatives having babies - so everything they do is just a huge freaking shock to me. 

Weirdly, I have no problem with kids older than about 9 or 10.  There comes a point where they stop being just generic kids and become individuals, and at that point I seem to be able to relate to them.  I feel like my attitude and perspective is going to be most effective with middle and high school students.  I get that they're challenging in different ways, but I think I'm far better prepared to manage those types of challenges. 

On a different note, I enjoyed hearing from Buffy Hamilton, and I think it's great that she's able to run her library and still maintain such an expansive online brand.  Visibility is a big deal if we're going to talk about breaking down stereotypes and old assumptions, so I'm keeping her example in the back of my brain as I move forward.

Bibliosaurus?

The one thing that really caught my interest this week, as evidenced by the plethora of exclamation points surrounding it in my notes, was the idea of production librarians to help people assemble their information into reports or scrapbooks or displays, or help digitize it, or analyze it. Which I love. And am great at. And want to do. Maybe on the weekends? Or at night? Or in the alternate, same-time universe that we need to get on discovering? I need space in my life to be a school librarian, a production librarian, a cat rancher, a turtle rescuer, a custom framer and a velociraptor. (Maybe I'll save velociraptor for retirement.)

The thing is, I really want to be a school librarian. I did my interview this morning with the woman who was my librarian in 3rd grade, and it was awesome. Everything she said was just great. We talked about how committed the district is to having certified librarians in each school, and the collaborative projects that they're able to do because of that. She told me how the librarians have been able to access test data and develop programming to address achievement gaps, and about how she still believes that literature is key to getting kids excited about learning. She talked about how even with almost everything about her job changing, her role has stayed the same. I seriously did not want to leave. I wanted to sit there and listen to her and learn to do her job.

I recognize that choosing school media limits me in some ways - obviously no electives. But it was a conscious choice about the kind of work I want to do. I just wish it wasn't so exclusive. I guess I can't complain...there are enough people who can't think of even one thing they'd like to spend their lives doing.

"It's a shame that we have to live, but it's a tragedy that we get to live only one life, because if I'd had two lives, I would have spent one of them with her." ~Jonathan Safran Foer Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Oh cataloging

I'm currently reading through Chapter 11, on information retrieval. What specifically caught my interest was the assertion that classification systems force us to confront the necessity of putting labels on things. When you place a subject term on a holding, you partially define it.

I've always been fascinated with the power of naming to not only define things, but to expand and even create them. I very nearly wrote my bachelor's thesis on the significance of naming in young adult novels (See A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle for an example). I love that you can put two things side by side and understand both in a new way. The process of classifying materials requires you to decide what is important about them, which is really a weighty decision when you think through how your choice will alter access to the record.

Working as a temp cataloger, I got a feel for how things are currently cataloged, and it often makes little sense. What child would intentionally search for "voluntarism" rather than "volunteering"? There's a reason that database thesauri exist, and there's a reason that the accepted subject terms are always changing. Cataloging attempts to grasp hold of our ever changing ways of looking at life, and succeeds...marginally. And in interesting ways.

My favorite part of looking through catalog entries is checking out how rogue catalogers have chosen to assign subject headings, as you occasionally get interesting surprises (as with Google Autocomplete, another favorite of mine [speaking of which, is there a way to see what people search for and what they eventually settle on, and use that to improve our search terms?]).

The best, most wtf subject heading I have ever come across was from an entry for a DVD of the movie Dracula, which contained the following:

"Subject term: Arteries--Puncture--Drama."

<3

I have never been comfortable with ambiguity. I think it derives equally from my personality, from my upbringing, and from the way information was presented to me until I started college. I always felt that things were black or white, right or wrong, correct or incorrect. I thought that teachers knew all the answers, and that I just had to learn them. I thought that there was a right way to do everything, and I was very anxious about figuring out how to do things "correctly".

I don't like not knowing what to do or how to do it. The first time I bought lunch at school in 1st grade, I cried because I didn't know the procedure. And as my classmates in 605 will attest, I missed lunch and dinner on Thursday due to my anxiety about figuring out where to buy food with a credit card on campus.

While my crippling social/food anxiety remains, I have succeeded in opening up my intellectual borders somewhat. I've gone from my first semester of college (where I was infuriated by a discussion-based philosophy class which never quite got to the point) to now, where I understand that knowledge is nuanced and subject to perspective and interpretation. I'm content to swim in a sea of information, drawing connections, making comparisons and creating my own views.

In my professional life though, I still find myself looking for a guide. I want someone to tell me what a librarian is and is not. I want to know what my duties will be, and how best to do them. I am coping with the understanding that this is not in the cards. I knew that coming in, and I'm excited to be in a field where I can literally be a part of redefining the profession, but it does present a real challenge to my personality. I'm trying to open myself up to what could be rather than what was or even what is.

It's helpful to keep in mind how transient our idea of libraries is. They have changed significantly even in the past decade. Rather than working outward from something like books or quiet space or coffee, or whatever else we're offering and trying to convince people to use, I'm trying to place myself at the intersection of the community (as the community of users is the greater context of any library) and the spheres we discussed in class - knowledge, access, memory, motivation, and physical space, among others. Maybe starting with these basic ideas, and myself, as I am, I can construct my own vision for my future as a librarian.

As Lankes pointed out, laws and rules are made by people, and so are professions. There are guidelines for what makes a good librarian, but adopting them wholesale may not be the best way to meet the needs of changing communities. Certain values remain vital, but I'll do my best to keep an open-minded and fluid sense of myself as a library professional. Even though it's scary as hell.

Oranges and Peaches and Miss Sheldon

I had to laugh as I started this week's readings for 605, as I came across the Oranges and Peaches anecdote. In short, a student asks a reference librarian for help finding a book entitled Oranges and Peaches, which turns out to be a mondegreen (mishearing) of On The Origin of Species (Cassel, 2009, p. 22).

This happens so often, and not only in library contexts. It's a great reminder that language is socially constructed, and that we all carry around slightly different versions of the world in our heads. Three great examples from my own experience come to mind:

A patron approached me seeking a list of books by an author she enjoyed, named Joanna Brady. A catalog author search turned up nothing. She handed me the checkout receipt for the book she had just finished, which listed Exit Wounds: A Joanna Brady mystery. Lightbulb moment! She (and I) had assumed that Joanna Brady was an author's name, but it was actually a character, and the series title! In this case, the library's cataloging and receipt format proved confusing. Of course a patron who sees a name on their receipt would assume that they were seeing an author. Asking more questions up front might have allowed me to run a different search that would have avoided the confusion.

Another instance involved a patron who asked me for a book entitled In Depth. To begin with, I misheard him and began by searching for "In Death". Once that was cleared up, I still was not finding any results. I moved outside of our catalog to worldcat and amazon, without success. I began to ask how he had heard of the book, hoping to be able to find a reference within a publication, and he replied that it was reviewed on C-Span. I hopped on to the C-Span website, and wouldn't you know, In Depth is the name of the segment the author appeared on, not the title of his book. Thankfully the patron knew the date of the broadcast he had seen, so we were able to identify the correct author and ILL several of his books.

Lastly, my absolute favorite incident, which did not occur in the library but which required quite a bit of detective work, happened while I was working the disability services office at a community college. Students would come in and tell us the names of their professors and the dates of their tests, and we would acquire copies in order to provide accomodative testing. One student filled out his form improperly, and we were unable to locate him, his course or his professor in our database. His name was something ridiculously generic like Bob Smith, so there were about 15 of them in the system, and he had given his professor's name as Miss Sheldon. After a few phone calls, I discovered that there was no professor at the college with that last name. I resorted to scanning the entire staff directory. It turned out that while there was no "Miss Sheldon", there was a Michelle Dunn, and she had a student by this name in her class. Mystery solved.

These are some of my favorite stories, because it's extremely satisfying to work your way through the mess of misunderstandings that can come in between you and another person. It's a good reminder that even when a patron says what they mean, we probably don't hear what they mean. The patron is as much a part of finding the answer to his or her own question as we are, so ensure that the process is fully reciprocal, participatory, and keep an open mind (even about things you might think are set in stone, like the very title you're looking for!)

Cassell, K. A., & Hiremath, U. (2009). Reference and Information Services in the 21st Century, 2nd Edition (Second ed.). New York: Neal-Schuman Publishers, Inc..

In which I begin graduate school

So… This will serve as my blog for IST 511. I opted not to tack this on to one of my (many) existing blogs, as I think I’m likely to develop my thoughts more fully if I’m not trying to serve more than one purpose.

Anyway. As a first post I thought it would be constructive to lay out why I’m here. (Library school. Not the intarwebz.)

We talked in class about the many ways librarians are defined, and what it came down to was our mission. Interacting with so many others that want to become librarians for reasons so different from my own makes me feel a bit like I’m swimming in mission. Of course we want to oppose censorship/preserve historic buildings/teach children to read/build databases… It’s amazing to see how many different ways people are tackling this question of how to make, store, access and disseminate knowledge.

My own experience is a bit more humble. I come to the field by way of A Wrinkle in Time and the Dixie Chicks.

To try to make an extremely long, convoluted story short, I had a poor attitude about learning for much of my life. I didn’t enjoy school, primarily because it was so much work, and because no one could give me a good answer to explain why I had to go to that much trouble. In sixth grade I asked my teacher why we had to learn about rocks, and she replied that it was in case we wanted to be geologists. That was basically the only answer I was ever given – “It’s about getting a job.” It wasn’t until much, much later that I realized that the process of learning about rocks, or fractals or Chaucer or whatever was actually teaching me how to learn. If I had seen school as being about skills rather than facts I probably would have been a lot more enthusiastic.

Over the course of high school, my worldview became increasingly narrow as I got more and more involved with my church. I began to self-censor because I was so offended by things that I read. I felt like my friends in the church would judge me for even considering ideas outside the normal scope of Christian dogma.

A lot of things collided for me around 2003. I started to realize that my friends in the church were not necessarily good people. I began a photography program at Onondaga Community College that exposed me to wildly new ideas and ways of combining knowledge. Natalie Maines opened her mouth, and the violence of the backlash against her made me really look at how our society makes decisions. And I reread A Wrinkle in Time, which helped me understand that information doesn’t have to be explicitly religious to be good or sacred. All of this combined to shatter my worldview and rebuild it around the belief that all knowledge is useful, worthy, and good, and that if as a society we are going to proceed toward truth, we need all of our people actively seeking and processing knowledge.

It’s both a societal and a personal philosophy. I think it’s crucial to society that people think and speak freely rather than subscribing to a broad set of beliefs. I also believe that on the individual level, every person has the right to access whatever information he or she needs to become his or her own best self. It’s this second part that leads me into school librarianship specifically. I want to make kids aware that they should not trust anyone else to tell them what to believe. They should question everything, and seek the best information to make their own decisions. Empowered to find and evaluate answers, we are equipped to navigate this world on our own terms.

(I’ll be honest. I wrote this post because I wanted to, before reading anyone else’s. I may come back and post some more if I discover that this was not at all within the scope of the assignment. But either way, I’m leaving it, because I hope that the record of what motivated me to come here will be something I can return to over the next 2 years.)