investing in ourselves

A story from the iSchool flickered into my Twitter feed today: Is a Master's Degree in Library Science a Poor Investment? A Counter Perspective to Forbes Magazine.

(The Forbes story in question was pretty ignorable; coming from Forbes, of course it's going to focus on the financial benefits of your master's, and of course our degrees aren't going to make us rich. We knew this wasn't a good investment in the traditional meaning of the word "investment," so blah blah whatever, Forbes.)

But then the iSchool student winds up making the exact same point as the Forbes story.

Forbes:

"[I]f your desired profession requires a master’s degree, that’s a good reason to pursue it.”

iSchool:

"An MLIS is often required when applying for professional librarian jobs, especially in regards to the more advanced positions such as director or manager. This is why I am pursuing my Master’s degree: In looking at job postings and talking with people in the field, I quickly discovered that a lack of educational credentials would quickly eliminate me for consideration for the director or manager positions I was seeking."

Dur.

That's not a real reason.

It's a valid short-term explanation, but it's not a reason. "Because they said so" isn't good enough for toddlers and teenagers, and it shouldn't be good enough for our profession, either.

Why are we all so afraid to ask the real question: What, exactly, do we learn in library school, and do we need it to be librarians? 

I've questioned my Syracuse degree -- and its $40K price tag -- loudly and often, but the further out I get from library school, the more certain I am that I did, in fact, need to go to library school. It wasn't because of anything I learned in classes or from readings or from professors; some of that was helpful and important, and some of it wasn't.

The reason I needed to go to library school was that I needed to meet other people in the same stage of their careers as I am. 

I needed to have daily contact with people who were navigating the same things, figuring out where and how to work in this field -- and, now, having jobs that are similar to what I'm doing or am going to do or might want to do someday. Just in Klub Kat, we have public librarians; academic librarians at schools of all sizes and stripes; archivists; early-career administrators; people working at vendors; people working at "special" libraries; people working in non-MLS staff positions.

All of you push me to think about things way outside my comfort zone (proper spit-cup signage, say, and bugs and rodents in public spaces) and how we're shaping this profession. Our generation isn't shaping it enough yet, but we have to start somewhere. And we're doing things together, too -- brainstorming, venting, helping each other find job posting, presenting together, co-authoring academic papers.

That is what I needed, what I couldn't get on my own. Were there other ways to find these people, ways that didn't take two years and cost every cent that some people make in an entire year? Maybe, but I don't know them, and the more graduation recedes in the distance, the more I value what I did get out of library school: you guys.

P.S. That said, people shaping MLIS curricula? Please keep asking that Big Scary Question: What, exactly do we learn in library school, and do we need it to be librarians? If the answer is no -- and it is, too often -- get rid of it, please, for the sake of our future and our sanity.

Dollar Bills, Y'all

We all know that library funding has taken some serious hits over the past few years. For many students entering library school, and eventually the library field, one of the biggest decisions is deciding what type of librarian to become: public, special, academic or school media. This decision can be made based on what type of library seems to be the most financially stable - probably not the public library?

That being said, tough financial times cause libraries to get creative. Many feature PayPal donation buttons on their websites; others, including my previous and current libraries, create elaborate fundraisers to entice the public into giving. These are in addition to taxes, bonds and other ways the government pays for libraries.

For whatever reason, (public) libraries love baskets and silent auctions. The usual scenario involves an evening event lasting from two to three hours; tickets generally cost $20 to $35 with a small discount for couples. Wine flows, hors d'oeuvres are passed and money is raised. Perhaps casual entertainment is provided or a raffle is held. Staff may or may not get to attend for free - if they do go for free they usually have to work in some capacity.

Currently, there are about a hundred baskets displayed all around the front of our library. Some have been up for so long they need to be dusted. Almost all of them block some part of the library: the circ desk, the new book shelf, the audiobooks, the DVDs. It's driving me crazy! And while it's supposed to be run by volunteers, they still depend heavily on staff which eats up valuable hours in the workday and may or may not delay library services. I am seriously wondering if we break even after it's all said and done.

I'm realizing that my aesthetic perspective is a combination of less-is-more and the-eye-needs-white-space philosophies. This rings true for my library displays, my office, my home and even my car (no bumper stickers, thankyouverymuch). Ah, but I am in the south, but more specific than that, Appalachia; their idea of simple elegance can be seen every time you walk into a Cracker Barrel.

I guess what I'm saying is that I know (public) libraries need money and there's nothing wrong with fundraisers. However, we must remain mindful that we are public agencies, not for-profit businesses. Displays should be small, concentrated and maybe only two or three weeks prior to the event - not for a month and a half. We serve a wide variety of customers, including small children, special needs groups and those with very little income. A tasteful, focused display is less likely to cause tantrums, unnecessary repetition of explanations, theft or embarrassment than an explosion of high-dollar shiny monstrosities blocking high-traffic areas.

An underlying issue here, which we never talked about in library school, is the reality that in many cases the financial supporters of the library - those terrifying groups of blue hairs and ladies who lunch - may not actually be active users of the library. How do you balance the demands of a high-touch group of donors and the needs of the actual patrons? Do you ply the wealthy with fundraisers and baskets while the poor people populating your computer lab wade through the displays and smudge up the cellophane? What about staff who are being paid hourly wages who can barely afford a ticket and certainly can't buy any of the auction items?

I don't have any answers for this. All I know is that I'm glad I'm not the Easter Bunny; I apparently hate baskets.

Paperless Libraries?

I am still in library school, and lack the depth of real-world experiences the other Katalogers have encountered on the job. So I am going to do what academics do best, theorize.

If you are as addicted to google reader as I am, I'm sure you come across several articles each week discussing the end of the Public Library. If not, here are a few examples

New Library Technologies Dispense With Librarians, Wall Street Journal
Digital Underclass: What Happens When the Libraries Die? ZDNet (Thanks for sharing, Gwen!!)

You can find lots of related articles/blog posts if you complete a simple internet search. (Don't know how to do that? call your local public library!) They all say the same thing. Digital books and technology are going to make public libraries and librarians irrelevant. The author of the ZDNet article thinks public libraries will suffer a slow death as the proliferation of digital materials makes printed materials outdated. The problem is these articles all seem to be written by people who have not been in a public library since they lost the 1982 summer reading program to a child that would one day become a librarian.

Yes, libraries have books. They also have e-books, DVDs, computers, programming, databases, periodicals, etc. To argue that printed books are the only thing keeping the library open is a gross misstatement. Even if the entire world went digital, we would still need libraries. There is a significant portion of the population that does not have internet access at home, cannot afford (or chooses not to purchase) an e-reader or computer, and wouldn't know what to do with one if they could. Government documents, job applications, customer service, and many other resources we need to live are solely available online. Where will citizens gain access to and learn to navigate these resources if the public library died? I'm pretty sure the post office or city hall would not step up to the plate.

Even if public libraries were just buildings full of books with stuffy librarians shushing more often than helping, they still would not die. E-books are simply not going to replace printed materials. Have you heard about the paperless office? Businessweek first mentioned it in 1975--35 years ago. I have yet to encounter an office that fits that description, because people LIKE to have a hard copy. The National Association of College Stores recently completed a survey and found that 75% of students would rather use a printed textbook over an e-book, and this is from a population that grew up with technology. In a Mashable poll, twice as many respondents indicated a preference for printed books over e-books (35% like both). Mashable provides content on social media, technology, and the internet. If surveys of digitally friendly populations are coming back with these numbers, imagine what a comprehensive survey of the nation would turn up.

Even though I am terrified to start the job search process, I am in no way afraid that my chosen profession will disappear or become irrelevant. In fact, I think librarians may be more essential today than they have ever been. While there are many threats to public libraries--inadequate funding, the prevalence of the belief that libraries are simply rooms full of books, lack of advocacy, etc.--technology is not one of them. Digital materials are as much of a danger to the public library as the paperless office is a reality.

I am not a student, d***it!

I am a relatively young librarian, as I went straight from undergrad into grad school. I am not much older than my students; in fact, many of them are the same age as my younger sister (which makes it weird, because my sister is my best friend). Anyway, I was at a function the other day (ok, ok, church lunch), sitting at an adult table, and everyone who sat down wanted to know if I was a student, and how my studies were going. The same thing happened with my student workers: oh, are you a new student here? No, I'm not.

Whenever I talk to my co-workers about it, I receive the typical "adult" response: well, enjoy it while you can, that won't last long, let's talk when you're thirty. These responses irk me probably as much as when I am mistaken for a student. The reason is probably not what you think. I am not concerned about my peers taking my abilities seriously; there is one thing that I am really good at in life, and that is academia. I am not concerned about students taking me seriously, because they're students. What really worries me is that I won't take myself seriously.

I have been a student for the past umpteen years of my life. It is what I know. I am concerned that I will fall into old patterns. I don't really see myself as an adult at all - in fact, sometimes I worry I act like I'm still in high school. This job is important to me, and I don't want to mess it up because I cannot act like an adult. So every time someone asks if I'm a student, I wonder: am I student? Wait, no, I'm a librarian.