Booked up

Literally AND metaphorically.  This past week has been the usual blend of alchemical-wonderful, but there’s also been a lot of reading going on.

I review for both LJ and the SRRT newsletter, which is an interesting exercise in contrasts.  LJ’s short, severe 175-word limit forces me to be specific, whereas with SRRT’s 500-word relative ramble, I can be a bit more poetic about a book. For LJ I review fiction, which guarantees my degrees in English and the time spent learning how to read a text critically will never go to waste; it also really forces me to think about library budgets, appeal factors, etc. and make sure my review gets packed with the sort of helpful details a selector in a hurry might need. For SRRT the focus is on non-fiction works that somehow address social concerns. This somewhat selfishly allows me to praise wonderful books I am already reading anyway, and that might not get many reviews in the professional or popular press. 

Due to an overcrowded plate, I actually just turned down a review opportunity from SRRT, which disappoints me beyond belief, because I was going to review Sarah Miles’s Take This Bread, a memoir in which a lifelong atheist with a background in political and social justice work experiences a radical conversion based on the principles of actually feeding the hungry, as opposed to just talking about it (or, heavens forbid, forming yet another committee or study group about it). If you have ever said the words “liberation theology” out loud; live or work in a community where hunger is a critical issue; belong to a faith community that would like to be more active in feeding the poor; or wonder how on earth anyone managed to reconcile faith and action in a hands-on practical way, you should read this book.

I’m still slowly making my way through that package of galleys from Rory Litwin, which is fitting given that the first book I’ll review here is all about why reading slowly is a darned good idea. You might be asking yourself, though, why we’re bothering with book reviews anyway, since newspapers are dying and nobody reads anymore, and besides, won’t Google scan it? The answers to those questions will also appear in the review. For a sneak peek at topic to come, click here.

ETA: I nearly forgot to mention that I’ve also contributed a review to Litterbox Magazine, a new local online literary journal that will go live tomorrow (I’m telling you today so you don’t think I’m joking. :) ) The book I reviewed, Literature and War, is another example of the kind of book that doesn’t get nearly enough ink, and the kind of assignment that lets a librarian fulfill his/her ethical obligations while discharging her/his professional ones.

Tours and Learning Styles. Also, horn-blowing.

Tours, practice and philosophy

One of the many hats I wear here at CLP Main is tour guide.  I’m in the regular tour-giver rotation, and my number does not come up nearly often enough.  Today, however, I was lucky enough to show a group of ESL students from a nearby university the many things our library has to offer.  There’s nothing more gratifying than hearing people say, “Libraries HAVE this?” or “You can do that ONLINE?”

Some of the materials that really interested them were:

All of this made me think about how people learn in different ways, and how important it is to have many different materials and access points in a library.  I think sometimes the “technomage vs. traditionalist” battles we wage in library world are fueled in part by a fear of being left out.  Traditionalists worry that it’s going to be all-digital, no-more-books, and that they’ll cease to be represented.  Technomages feel they’re not being listened to, and that their new ways of thinking and learning aren’t being respected.

Just a broad, sweeping generalization of a theory.  It seems to me, though, that, in the end, all the arguments we have come back to basic, old-fashioned things like listening and respect.  Are we advocating so loudly for our own interests that we’ve stopped listening to what our “opponents” have to say?  Are we determined to have our way at all costs, and write off our detractors as people who “just don’t get it”?

To learn more about just one credible theory on learning styles, click here. To see virtual tours of CLP Main and some of its branches, click here.

Tooting one’s own horn

Today, in my blogreader, I stumbled across a number of posts on the Shovers and Makers award, which you can give yourself at any time. Lest I be written off as a dour, humorless naysayer, let me state right up front that I find the concept hysterically funny, and would claim my own spot there except that I’m much happier snarking at the fringes of library world, and I get enough attention as it is, both in person and online. :)

One concern I have, though, is that getting any kind of award or recognition from “the establishment” appears to be frowned upon. That can’t be entirely a sour grapes proposition – not with so many fabulous Shovers and Makers ready to step up and assert how bodacious they are in their own right, without waiting for an award. But when did it become such a bad thing to get an award?

Think about it. There are millions of books published every year. Some of them get awards. Should we stop giving out book awards because every book is fabulous in its own way? Methinks not. The whole purpose of giving anyone or anything an award is to indicate a special level of accomplishment. It’s NOT a statement that “the rest of you suck.” It’s a statement that this book, this program, this library, this librarian….went above and beyond.

Just another something to think about. If you want praise and recognition in this life, you have to get off your behind and seek them your ownself. Some people do it through formal channels. Others do it in grassroots ways. And both should be valid ways of seeking recognition and acceptance.

I’m a little biased, obviously, since I’m part of the Emerging Leaders cohort this year. However, I’m a big fan of the “go for it” school of professional development. If there’s a hill, I’m going to climb it just because it’s there. Maybe when I get to the top I’ll want to be on a different hill, but I’ll never know unless I try.

Yes, I am still thinking about books and reviews (and reading books for reviews). Your patience is much appreciated. :)

Power, Love, Libraries

Sometimes it’s easier to catch up on professional reading when it’s professional listening – that way my hands and brain can be engaged at the same time.  Of course, sometimes what you hear stops you dead in your tracks, which is what happened to me while I was listening to Agents for Change in a Complex World, a production of the Urban Libraries Council.  The second speaker, Adam Kahane, gave an electrifying presentation on power and love that, if considered carefully, can help us all build better libraries.

Kahane’s rhetorical framework draws heavily on Martin Luther King Jr.’s belief that “Power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic.”  He cites a few other thinkers in the same vein, but the bottom line is that without a balance between these two forces, we can’t create successful ways of being in the world  The bottom line?  Here’s the money quote:

We have to learn to speak fluently two paradoxically different languages:  the language of power and the language of love.

There was more, but that’s what knocked me out, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

Let’s take power, for example.  In tough economic times, when it seems like so much is out of our control, power starts to seem like something other people have (specifically people who are one degree, title, or administrative rank above yours).  It’s a challenge to step up to the plate and realize how much power you actually do have.  Being able to execute that power lovingly is the sour cherry on top.

But it’s not all hopeless, if you really do have the love for libraries.  In fact, I would argue that, for most librarians, the problem is a surfeit of love, and not enough belief in one’s own personal power.  We love people and want to serve them.  It’s why so many of us chose library work in the first place.  We didn’t want to buy, sell or process anything, but we weren’t cut out to be professional kickboxers.  Corporate America wasn’t going to cut it.  We wanted a profession where we could make a difference, and do something that mattered.

Along the way, however, this sort of got twisted into the notion that loving our patrons means giving them whatever they want, and never saying no.  True love, however, means being able to set good boundaries, and if we love our patrons as much as we say we do, we need to be able to set limits and say no.  No, you can’t have your computer time extended – there is a line of people waiting to use the resources.  No, you cannot borrow that reference book – we need to make it available for everybody who wants to come and see it.  No, you may not take your cellphone calls in here – this is an area for people who want to read and study quietly.  No, you cannot have coffee in this particular room – this is where we keep the expensive, fragile materials.  In other words, library love is not always about satisfying the whims of the individual patron:  it’s about taking into consideration what’s best for the entire community, and communicating that in a respectful, non-adversarial fashion.

Before anybody bites my head off, I’d like to point out that this particular  door swings both ways.  No, I won’t ask those teens to quiet down / leave the library – this space is set aside for them and their unique needs.   No, I don’t think it’s horrible that there’s food in the library:  the first floor is a place for people to eat and socialize while they read.  No, I won’t remove that graphic novel / video game from the collection – we buy materials to suit all needs and itnerests at the library.  No, I won’t let you cut in line for the computers because you’re working on a paper and that guy wants to edit his MySpace account - everybody gets computer service, regardless of how they choose to use our equipment, and you’ll have to wait your turn.

I’m not sure if that’s the sort of thing Kahane was driving at, but that’s what I took away from his presentation.  I think it’s wonderful that the Urban Library Council invited a speaker who deal  with larger, philosophical issues to come in and give a presentation.  And I know I’ll be ordering Kahane’s writings via ILL, so that I can learn and think about this sort of thing more.

Any thoughts on power and love in libraries?  I’d love to know what you think….

Post-plague potpourri

I seem to have shaken off whatever horrid virus kept me down last week.  Thanks to all who left kind comments – believe me, it made me feel much better to log in and see your good wishes.

A  few days of catch-up yield the following results:

Technology Playground #3

I wasn’t able to attend #2, and #4 will have to roll on without me as well, but Technology Playground #3, held yesterday at the Green Tree Public Library, was well-attended and well-recieved.  Something that never fails to impress me is the quality of questions asked – both times now I’ve been prepared to talk about what I think people will think is important, and had to switch gears on my feet to address things I hadn’t considered.  This is a good thing, though, because it helps us shape future training.

Also,  my co-presenter on blogging at these shindigs has been Ing Kalchthaler, who’s just been named an LJ Mover and Shaker for ‘09. Listen to her for two minutes and you’ll know why: she’s doing great things at her library, and her enthusiasm for her work, as well as her obvious love for public service, makes me once again proud to be right here, right now, in Allegheny County.

Speaking of Movers and Shakers…

I would be totally remiss if I did not mention that my friend and mentor, Carlie Webber, also got the Mover and Shaker nod this year. Carlie’s pretty much made of amazing, and she’s also the person who inspired me to become a librarian. So, you can thank or censure her for that, and absorb her other professional goodness,  at Librarilly Blonde. :)

Twitter @ the Two-week Mark

As of right now, we have 43 followers – not too shabby!  Since Twitter relies so heavy on reciprocity, I’ve been searching for local Twitter feeds and following them in the hopes that they’ll follow us back.  Both major newspapers and at least one of the TV outlets have Twitter accounts, so those were no-brainers.

Also, since we live and die by numbers, I’ve been evaluating our initial efforts at Twitter Grader.  According to their list of top Twitter cities, Pittsburgh is #33 in the world (who knew?), with an average score of 59.47. CLPicks’ score is 79. To put it in lolspeak, “We’re in ur discourse, elevatin’!” Or so it would seem. Again, not bad, right out of the gate.

Step the next: guerilla marketing. If you haven’t had a chance to peek at it yet, check out CLPicks and see what we’ve wrought.

Databases

Getting organized is half the battle, and chairing two electronic resource committees is really forcing me to get organized.  We had the March CLP database meeting, and did renewals for second quarter.  Right now I’m assembling the ever-growing agenda for Thursday’s EREC committee meeting, so that we can talk about things that have cropped up at the county level. 

The tasks of both committees are quite similar.  In both cases, we’re dealing with budgets, stats, trials, renewal decisions, and advertising.  Both groups require me to write agendas, make sure we get good minutes, and then slap them up in our respective committee wikis.   Being chair means talking to a LOT of vendors.  And, in these times, it’s also meant making some tough choices about keeping resources.

All of this is stuff I never thought I’d do, and I’m still uneasy about it.  I’m not sure what I want now and next from my career.  Being at the reference desk is still the best part of my day, followed closely by any time I spend in the book order room.   I try to see all the rest as chances for growth and learning.  However, I’m starting to feel like I’m getting away from my “core values,” so to speak, and I don’t know if that means I’m just resistant to change, or am really better suited to public service than I am to administrativa.

My colleague Don nailed it, though, when we were talking earlier today:  librarianship, if you’re doing it right, is very much a ministry.  And that goes for what you do at the reference desk, I reckon, as well as whatever surreptitious tasks you’re performing behind the scenes.  Perhaps especially.  After all, there’s the element of public recognition and ego-stroking at the reference desk, whereas most people will never know about all the silent functions going on in back offices that affect their access to information.

Just some stuff to chew on, there.  I listened to a great continuing education CD a few weeks ago that I want to write about soon, and a lovely package full of pre-pubs from Library Juice Press has arrived at my office, so I definitely want to commit to that previously-promised post about the “dying” art of book reviews.

More later this week – that’s the plan, anyway!  Hope all is well in your respective library worlds, and that you’ll consider leaving a comment to tell about it.

Alchemist, heal thyself

All professional plans and projects are on hold for the moment.  The illness against which I was so valiantly striving last week turned out to be far more serious than I thought, and since my health is more important than anything going on in library world — no matter how beloved — I’m taking a week’s vacation in order to rest up and heal.

Some would argue that, in this economic climate, this is tantamount to career suicide.  After all, you’re only as good as your last blog post or tweet, n’est-ce-pas?   Stay out of the game for a while and you’re yesterday’s news.

I’d beg to differ.  You can’t keep going to the well without refilling it, and believe me, in my case, it’s long overdue.  Too bad it took a high fever and a near-consumptive cough to convince me I have enough credit in the Bank of Career Fabulous to rest up a while.

I’ll be back next week with, hopefully, stronger bronchial tubes and a refreshed spirit.

Twitter, Technology Playground #1, and Tea

Twitter announcement

The mad rapscallions at CLP Main have done it again.  Fifteen of us have teamed up and created a Twitter feed for CLP Main that will, we hope, showcase the good things our library has to offer in a somewhat less annoying fashion than Twitter can often be:  all of the social networking, none of the “I had tuna fish today” irrelevance!

By which I mean, please take a peek at CLPicks and see what we’re all about. One tweet, each weekday, on one fabulous library item (books, movies, Playaways, the whole nine yards). We’re going to try it for a little while and see how it goes. My goal is 100 followers in 3 months – real followers, that is, not spam accounts. Bonus points if it’s not just all my library “family” and friends, too. :)

I think my favorite part of this most recent experiment is the fact that a number of the volunteers are people who, when I started initiating these 2.0 projects a year-point-five ago, did not want to participate. In the interim they have become curious about what we tech-dabblers were doing and slowly warmed up to playing along with us. Web 2.0 technologies won’t solve all of library world’s problems, but it’s great that we’ve apparently built some bridges and convinced folks to try something new. Mission accomplished, there, regardless of how the tweeting itself turns out.

Technology Playground #1

Today at the Whitehall Public Library a handful of ACLA and CLP staff, including Beth M., Kelley B., Ryan H., and the incomparable Amy E., descended en masse and demonstrated emerging technologies to a group of 30 librarians who voluntarily signed up for the presentation. First Beth gave a great presentation on resilience and lifelong learning, and then attendees were free to walk around the room to different stations. These included:

  • gaming
  • blogging
  • social networking
  • downloadable books and movies
  • the Encore catalog interface
  • plus a special appearance from Best Buy’s geek squad!

There will be three more technology playgrounds, and they’re open to all public library workers in Allegheny County, so please leave a comment if you think you’d like to attend one of the future sessions – I’ll get you hooked up. 

These playgrounds are a prelude to the “23 Things” program that Ryan, Kelley, Beth, Mark M. and I have been planning – I’ll be blogging about that a lot in April, so be prepared…

Public Service Announcement (With Tea)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that colleagues who are sick, or feel they might be getting sick, should kindly stay home and not infect the rest of us!  Alas, I think we all have a tendency to feel, at least on occasion, that we are indispensible.  This is, for the most part, not so much true.

In the interests of practicing what I preach, I will be staying home sick tomorrow if the giant lemon-ginger tea I am drinking does not knock the stuffing out of the flu-like symptoms that have been wandering around the building, and apparently settled in my bronchial tubes.  In the meantime, please, please, please, I beg you:  don’t be a martyr.  Take your sick days!  And drink more tea, in general.  It’s good for you.

More later this week, possibly…also, I’m moodling over a post on the so-called dying art of book reviewing.  Stay tuned.