Pensée #4: Watchmen

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a graphic novel of large fandom and good reputation is hardly in want of an apologist. Ergo, we’ll just leap right over the question of whether comics have literary or educational value — arguments already made by minds far more cogent than mine — and just explore the text at hand.

I’m always biased right off the bat when a book  leads me revisit other books that, for whatever reason, did not make an impression the first time I met them.  Watchmen‘s recurring epigraph, “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” takes us all the way back to Plato’s Republic by way of Juvenal’s Satires.  Loosely translated as “Who watches the watchmen?” — sometimes rendered more faithfully as “Who guards the guardians?” –  the phrase has its own Wikipedia entry which led me to a catalog search to get me some Juvenal.

[This also leads me to an interesting theory:  although my required "Philosophy 101" class did not, apparently, revolutionize my life, enough soil was tilled and seeds planted that, years later, Watchmen was able to revive my curiosity about certain authors and texts.  Perhaps the point of reading books is not always to have an amazing revelation in the moment, but to pave the way for greater understanding later on?]

 At any rate, the primary questions the text asks are:  what are the morally and ethically correct things for leaders to do?  And what happens when they don’t do them?  And what could/should be done about it?  In delightful non-linear fashion Watchmen traces one history of costumed crimefighters that’s not as optimistic or happy as other superhero mythologies; unlike the sunny world of Superman, for example,  in which good and evil are clear-cut, the Watchmen universe is filled with ambiguity and doubt…so much so, in fact, that it contains a piece of legislation called the Keene Act.

After a group of costumed superheroes instigated a police strike that led to riots, the Keene Act was passed to outlaw “non-government affiliated vigilantes”; in other words, if you’re going to dress up and fight crime, you’ve got to be legit with the gubmint.  Distressed by this development, most costumed superheroes chose to hang up their capes rather than comply with the law.  When The Comedian, one of the few government-sponsored superheroes, is murdered, the other vigilantes decide to come out of retirement to track down the killer.

[I found, while researching this piece, that the history of registration acts in comics is long and convoluted - for a summary and explication, see, once more, a surprisingly good Wikipedia entry.]

That’s a lot to wrap your head around, and the characters don’t make it any easier, at times.  Rorschach, for example, has some pretty black-and-white notions of justice, strongly influenced by a traumatic childhood; then there’s Ozymandias, who seems harmless enough, but has some interesting notions about what’s best for society as a whole, and doesn’t mind killing millions of people if it will lead to world peace for everybody else.  At every turn in Watchmen the reader is asked to grapple with right and wrong, ethics and justice, personal versus social responsibility, the ends, the means, and the proper relationship between them.

Not exactly a light summer read, eh?  And yet, such a worthwhile one.  It got me thinking about librarians, and how we are often the superheroes of our communities.  Sometimes we are legitimate representatives of the gubmint; sometimes we function as costumed vigilantes, frantically patching neglected holes in the social safety net.  Sometimes we’re trying to uphold the status quo; sometimes, when we perceive the system as unjust, we’re trying to overthrow it.  Our mask is information, and our mission is dissemination…but who watches the library watchmen? To what standards are we held, and by whom?  The ALA code of ethics?  Our supervisors?  The law?  And if it is the law, whose law?  And would that be the letter of the law, or its spirit?  When is it better to uphold the law, and when is it better to take matters into your own hands?

Notice how, once more, I don’t have any answers for you.  Notice, too, how I’ve been blathering on for paragraphs and haven’t even really done justice to the text itself.  I am, however, definitely ready to read Watchmen and Philosophy, which, I hope, will take all my questions, run with them, and, possibly, give me better answers.  Comics aficianados are cordially invited to comment and highlight the many things I have, I am quite certain, failed to illuminate.

A funny thing happened on the way to this essay, which I’ll address in an interlude next time we meet.  Until then, I hope you had some sort of holiday, and that you enjoyed it greatly:

Reading Today: Kitchen Table Wisdom, Rachel Naomi Remen.  A doctor shares what she has learned about healing from a life in medicine.

Housekeeping/Book-keeping

Life here at Alchemy isn’t all vampires and snark.  It is, however, rather bookish.

I’m somewhat startled by how infrequently I talk about books in my professional librarian blog.  Then again, my writing about books would be much like asking fish to philosophize about water (especially since fish can’t talk).  Print books, to me, are not so much objects to be fussed over as they are critical elements of survival that I take for granted.  The sun will rise in the morning, the water that comes out of my tap will be potable, and there will always, always be something for me to read.  You will step between me and my books at your peril, and you will pry their papery goodness from my cold, dead hands.

All that being said, I’ve decided we don’t talk about books nearly enough at Alchemy, and that this must change.  Given that I am still my department’s emerging technologies librarian, we will still grumble talk a lot about technology.  Because I’m now officially in the leadership training cohort, we’ll still be talking about leadership.  And because I remain your cynical romantic, we will definitely still philosophize.  There are, however, one or two little cosmetic tweaks we’ll make going forward.

For starters, at the end of every post, I’ll link to the book I’m reading that day.  Given that I am usually reading 50 library books at any given time, and have 50 more on order, this should not prove difficult.  In all fairness, I am usually reading more than one book per day (one for the bus, one for each room in the house, one for my lunch break, etc.), but to keep the literary insufferability to a minimum, we’ll stick to one per post.

Finishing books tends to be an issue for me.  I take Nancy Pearl’s 50-page rule very seriously; it breaks my heart that, at the end of my life, I still won’t have read all the books on earth, so I want to make sure I don’t spend too much time with clunkers.  50 pages is more than enough to be able to file it away in my brain for readers’ advisory.

Still, I’d like to finish more books than I do, which is why I signed up for two reading challenges this year, a 50-book challenge at GoodReads, and a 100 book challenge at Every Girl Blog. That’s technically 150 books to finish this year (doubling up seems like cheating), and I’m going to keep track of them right here at Alchemy, just to save time.  You will find my 2010 reading log thus far in the left-hand sidebar, or you can visit it here.

You’d think we would be all booked up right now, but you’d be so very wrong!  Just to up the ante, starting with the next book I finish, I’m going to review it here at Alchemy.  I love writing book reviews, and would like to get both more exposure and more practice.  The 175-word fiction reviews I produce for Library Journal are definitely fun, and keep me sharp, but I find that, much like the opium addicts of old, it takes more and more of the stuff to satisfy my critical appetite.  Since it would be selfish to sign up to review all the books at LJ, I’ll simply have to branch out.

What else is in it for you, Constant Reader?  Well, those ARCs have to go somewhere when I’m done with them, and I’d prefer it not be the recycling pile.  The sensible, responsible thing to do seems to be passing them on to a fellow information professional.  Ergo, each time I’m done with an LJ ARC, I’ll offer it up for grabs on Alchemy.

As luck would have it, I actually have one for you today – everybody who comments on this entry between now and Wednesday April 28th will have the opportunity to win the somewhat-battered copy of the book I’ve just reviewed.  Today’s mystery ARC is the third novel from a literary mystery author, and if you’re in the mood for a solid whodunit with a number of quirky literary style choices and a meta-fiction vibe, you should put your hat in the ring for it.

In a token nod to technology, I’ve updated my blogroll to indicate which library blogs I’m actually reading right now.  I don’t read many blogs, sad to say; this is not because I don’t love you madly, but because I loathe squinting at a tiny screen.  Because printing out posts is neither time-efficient nor environmentally sound, I limit my blog reading only to those authors who make it consistently worth my while.   Paradoxically, however, I am always on the lookout for blogs I haven’t yet discovered, and it seems sensible that I should start with you.  Ergo, if you are blogging, please include your link so that I can repay your kindness to me by checking out your thoughts as well.

Last, but certainly not least, a feature for the comment-shy:  WordPress has just initiated a delightful new star rating system, allowing you to indicate how much you liked a particular post without having to leave a comment.  I’ve enabled this feature, and you will now see it at the top of every post.  The only way I’m going to get better at this is if you give me feedback, so please, for the sake of quality control, make your (dis)pleasure known ad astra if you’re not feeling chatty.

Poll results indicate the bulk of you are interested in hearing about My Year of No, a project that began on Facebook.  When I come back from my “nobody should work on their birthday” mini-holiday, I’ll tell you all about it…at least, all about the professional aspect.

Happy reading!

Reading Today: This is for the Mara Salvatrucha, Samuel Logan.  A gang member turned informant spills the beans on the MS-13, one of America’s most notorious street gangs (non-fiction, true crime).

Title Fail (Insert Vampire Metaphor Here): Library Failure, Pt. II

Previously, on Alchemy, we’d seemingly written ourselves into a corner, what with surface-scratching neuroscience, myth, symbol, and many examples of heinous fail, all of which actually happened somewhere in library world.  In addition, a number of brave commenters stepped up to the plate to talk about their own mistakes and failures.  On these brave souls I hereby bestow the Black Badge of Infamy With Pink Skulls Upon It. 

Metaphorically, of course.  I’ve got no budget for actual badges (and you don’t really need them anyhow).  What I do have are a few stolen moments in which to advance my theories.

First, the vampires.

Vampire as Fail Metaphor

Ever since John Polidori sat up all night telling ghost stories with Byron and the Shelleys, we’ve had vampires in our fiction, for good or ill. Many a scholarly study theorizes as to why this particular undead creature continues to fascinate us, but from where I’m sitting, it’s pretty simple:  humans need blood to live, and vampires take blood.  Ergo, vampires are scary as hell.

[What's interesting is that we seem to be entering a fictional age in which vampires have compassion, can be redeemed, even fight for equal rights.  Ergo, I'd better hurry up and finish this metaphor before what was once a classic symbol of terror becomes completely drained of its potency.]

Vampires make a lovely metaphor for failure simply because the prospect of screwing up exerts a similar effect:   failure stops us in our tracks, drains us of confidence, leaves us depleted and wondering what the heck happened to us.  Once you’ve been bitten, it’s hard to shake it off and bounce back, especially if you don’t feel you have anyone you can confide in.

Now up the stakes by thinking about failure specifically within the library.

 Librarianship is a profession in transition, actively questioning its future.  What’s the role of the physical library?  What do reference services in the 21st century look like?  How do we serve the “born digital” without neglecting the rest of the community’s needs?  What’s the future of cataloging?  How can we teach information literacy to people who are perfectly happy with Wikipedia, and don’t necessarily care if Wikipedia is wrong, or if better sources exist?  How can we convince the non-librarians who oversee our medical/special/school libraries that our services are value-added?  Are library coffeeshops still hot, or are they “soooo 2004″?

That’s just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s enough to establish that librarianship gives us enough to worry about on good days.  Adding the prospect of failure to the mix simply ramps up the possibility of vampiric possession.  When everything around you is hazy, nebulous, uncertain, subject to change at any moment, the prospect of somehow “doing it wrong” is almost too much to bear.

So what do we do?  Because this is me you’re dealing with here, you get two answers:  a logical one, and a mythic-symbolic one.  In Part III of this series, I’ll give you the logical answer which incorporates the forty thousand things I’m learning about neuroscience!  And in part IV, we’ll finally get to Abraham Lincoln and his vampiric (or not) tendencies.

I know, I know.  I took a day off, I got buried in catch-up work, I had to lower the blogging bar.  It happens.  Can I get a witness?  I shudder to think what will happen when I disappear the week of my birthday, if, indeed, I do dare to take that much vacation all at once.

Until next time, I remain,

your library alchemist.

Title Fail (Insert Vampire Metaphor Here): Library Failure, Pt. I

Last week, while helping a really cute patron, I made a wee blunder at the end of a transaction.  When he thanked me for my assistance, I looked him right in the eye, gave him my most dazzling customer service smile and said, “You’re wonderful” instead of “You’re welcome.”

Oops.

The patron grinned.  I blushed about seventy-five different shades of scarlet and apologized.  He was very gracious about it.  Did I mention he was also very, very cute?  Cute as in “Hardly anybody that cute walks in here” cute?

*facepalm*

If you’ve never done anything like that during a reference transaction, just you wait.  Interspersed with all the inspirational moments where you change somebody’s life there will be inevitable episodes of mistaking babies’ genders, much to the outrage of their parents; mispronouncing names; bumping into people; tripping over laptop cords; forgetting to bring someone’s chases over to their work table (usually when you’re trying to help seven people at once), and deleting print jobs from the queue instead of releasing them.

It gets worse.  You will, at some point in your career, screw your courage to the sticking place and propose a new initiative that will be roundly dismissed by the powers that be as unfeasible due to circumstances of which you were not aware when you crafted your cunning plan.  What’s worse, at least one of your projects will fail miserably and die quietly while your peers politely ignore the stench of dead woodchuck under the porch of your career.  You will accidentally send an e-mail intended just for one person to the entire countywide listserv and, along the same lines, intentionally send an e-mail to the countywide listserv only to discover that your missive has incorrect information, a typo, or both.  You will completely misunderstand something a patron wants and, for example, send her/his books back to the warehouse when what s/he really wanted was for you to keep them a little longer.

Quite possibly, your mistakes will be even larger.  If you’re not careful, you will sign up for far more committees and special projects than you can reasonably handle, then freak out when the workload gets to be too much. You will then refuse to drop or quit anything because you want to prove that you’re hard-core, and can run with the big dog librarians.  You also won’t want your boss — or his/her bosses, for that matter — thinking you’re a wuss who can’t take the heat.

Luckily, you will survive all of this, and more.  Someday, you will even laugh about it.

“Failure,” in the context of library work, is an amusing intellectual concept because, even on our very worst days nobody dies (usually) and nothing gets set on fire (normally).  Those of us who work in urban public libraries frequently have more harrowing stories to tell; these, however, have less to do with personal failures or mistakes than they do with gaping holes in the larger social fabric.  For the moment, we will put those aside and concentrate on those individual moments of epic fail that stop us in our tracks and make us wonder if we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

Discussing Library Failure

In June of 2009 the estimable Walt Crawford wrote a blog post called Learning From Failure for what is know known as the Library Leadership Network.  Your alchemist prescribes a cup of tea and a slow, careful reading of this post, but for those of you already caught up in a frazzly workweek, here’s the money quote that goes a long way toward explaining why we don’t talk much about our professional failures:

Failure isn’t sexy.

Librarians are by no means immune to the desire to be admired, respected, thought well of.  The extent to which each individual wants personal “library fame” varies widely:  some people want to be on the cover of LJ; others would simply like a job.  But all of us want to be regarded in a positive professional light.

This is, I assure you, perfectly normal.  Where we goof it up, I’ve found, is in the pressure we put on ourselves to be likeable.  We are, I think, harder on ourselves than any employer or colleague would ever be.  Just a theory…but let’s test it out, shall we?

Let’s say, for example, your boss sends you an e-mail.  Somehow said e-mail gets buried in the crush of daily e-mails you receive, and you don’t see it.  For a whole year.  Which you then realize about 48 hours before said item really should be acted upon.

At this point, you probably need to be peeled off the ceiling because your mental chatter sounds something like this:

OMG I am such an idiot!  I can’t believe I let an e-mail sit in my inbox for an entire year without doing anything!  My boss is going to kill me.  Worse, before s/he kills me, s/he’s going to give me THAT LOOK, the one that makes me want to curl up and die of shame because it reminds me of the way my swimming teacher looked at me when I refused to jump off the high dive in 4th grade PE.  Maybe Boss will yell, or maybe s/he’ll give me the silent treatment, but either way, this blunder is going to go down in my PERMANENT LIBRARY RECORD, and I will never get another good assignment, promotion, or raise ever again.  Then my boss will tell HER/HIS boss, who will start treating me as if I’m somewhat feeble.  Word will spread.  I’ll stop getting invited to the GOOD meetings, the ones with DOUGHNUTS.  People will avoid me in the halls and stop talking whenever I walk into a room, and it will be because they were discussing ME and ALL THE WAYS IN WHICH I AM AN EPIC FAILURE.  Nobody will eat lunch with me anymore because they won’t want to be associated with the fail-cloud hanging over my head, and eventually I will have to wear a scarlet letter F on my oufit.  At my next evaluation I’ll be let go because of “budget reasons,” and I’ll never get another library job again, and some snarky library blogger will write a post using me as an example of What Not to Do.  I’ll end up working at Dunkin Donuts and LIVING IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!  My life is OVER!

Well, am I right?

If that sounds even remotely familiar to you, welcome to your amygdala, the lizard part of your brain that manages to turn your failures and mistakes into heinous crimes the likes of which would make Jack the Ripper himself blush with shame to be seated next to you in whatever punitive dimensions exist beyond this one. Though your cerebral cortex will try to have its way, the only way to counter-attack the amygdala is with myth, symbol, and other constructs that speak to the emotions.

This brings us, quite naturally, to vampires.  But, ironically, not right now!  What I’d hoped could be one long moment of library blog brilliance has turned, by necessity of between-patron typing and editing, into a two-parter.  Nothing like leading by example, eh?  Part Two will discuss vampires as a metaphor for failure, using the curious paradox of Fictional Abraham Lincoln, who has a bit of an identity problem for us to resolve.  We’ll also talk about ways you can outsmart your amygdala…and I promise you that to make myself publicly accountable for doing the research on that.  After all, I wouldn’t want to fail you, Constant Reader.

Live well, laugh often, talk soon!

Excuses: An FAQ

And just where have you been, young lady?

I’ve just returned from another one of my mini-staycations.  Notice how nobody died, and nothing caught fire.  My email is a right backlog, though – I’ve spent most of this morning cleaning it up.

Don’t you worry about becoming irrelevant in today’s fast-paced world of digital excitement?

Even we technomages have our limits.  I think it’s very important to spend periods of time away from workmail, workblogs, worktwitter, workfacebook, and, well, work, period.  I’m actually much more concerned at the moment as to whether or not I can use the word “technomage” without J. Michael Straczynski slapping a lawsuit on me.  A quick search of the Trademark Electronic Search Service (TESS) at the USPTO site indicates I’m safe, but I think he should probably call me, just so we can have a good professional discussion and clear that up.

Fair enough.  Now that you’re back at work, can you tell us why there was no August Wilson Leadership Academy post for Feburary?

Er, yes.  That.  I chose to spend my time differently last month.

But it was such a good idea!

I know.

And you promised!

I know!  I hang my head in shame.

So, when will we see the next installment?

When I read something that inspires me.  It’s not looking hopeful.  I’ve been reading a lot of leadership material, and, well…

Well what?

It’s kind of depressing.

Seriously?

Yes.

Why?

Reasons vary.  Some books are heavy on the inspiration, light on the practical implementation.  Others are crammed with bullet points, suggestions and tips to the point where it’s overwhelming.  And don’t even get me started on “management parables.” 

Well, why don’t you talk about that, then?

No can do.  Much like Booklist, Alchemy only gives positive reviews.

Where’s the fun in that?

Hey, nobody tries to write a bad book.  Even Stephanie Meyer had good, albeit sparkly, intentions.

You know where those lead, right?

Right.

So, how have you been choosing to spend your time?

Workwise, it’s still all about the databases:  making sure they’re working properly, troubleshooting them when they’re not, promoting/marketing them, gathering statistics, trying to see if all the vendors can deliver said statistics in the new format certain parties want, running trials, giving meetings, taking notes, and trying to stay on top of / manage the ongoing POWER library situation.

Zzzzzzzz….

Hey, you asked!

Sorry.

It’s not very exciting, I know.   So much library work takes place behind the scenes, and is difficult to talk about in an exciting way.  This is why I usually philosophize rather than talk about what I’m doing.  I’ll gladly change my position on this if I suddenly get an outpouring of comments begging to hear more about the intricacies of einetwork database statistics collection.

Er, pass.  Are you working on anything exciting at the moment?

When I’m not managing the electronic resources, I’m still doing everything else I usually do:  buying books, fussing over Eleventh Stack and CLPicks, staffing virtual reference and — once in a blue moon — working at the physical reference desk. 

What’s your favorite workday responsibility?

Of all the tasks on my to-do list, coordinating Eleventh Stack is still my favorite.  Serving as team leader/editor is fun and educational, and I’m both surprised and pleased that our library’s blog has passed its second birthday without a drop in quality or quantity.  Credit for that goes to my amazing team, of course.

So, you’re not at the reference desk much these days.  How do you feel about that?

Truthfully, I would like more time at the physical reference desk.  However, there will be plenty of time for that when my countywide committee responsibilities end in 2011.  I think it’s really important to try as many things as you can; even if you find out that certain kinds of library work are not to your liking or skill set, you can still learn from them.  And I’m certainly not sorry for the opportunity to get to know my peers out in the county — it’s led to a number of opportunities I wouldn’t have otherwise had, and I have a better picture of the Pittsburgh’s public library landscape than I did previously.

That’s a lot of p-sounds in a sentence.

That’s technically not a question.

Sorry.  Read any good books lately?

I thought you’d never ask.  Under the umbrella of professional reading, I’m currently swooning over The Late Age of Print, which nimbly vaults over the “print vs. digital” dilemma by examining the print book as a consumer product / cultural artifact. On the religion/spirituality tip, I’ve got Without Buddha I Could Not Be A Christian (vocabulary and diction geared toward the divinity school set) and Bring Me the Rhinoceros (more layman-friendly).   Fictionwise, I’m in slack-jawed awe of American Salvage, a collection of tight, well-constructed stories about uncomfortable subjects, and Every Last Drop, the fourth installment of the Joe Pitt Chronicles, a series designed expressly for folks who appreciate the hard-boiled qualities of Chandler and Hammett, New York stories, and — are you sensing a theme, here? — non-sparkly vampires.

 I’ve also got Writing and Publishing: The Librarian’s Handbook checked out, but I’m a little nervous about opening it. 

Why?   It sounds great!

It does!  Problem is, I have a feeling it will blow any other excuses I have for not writing into smithereens.

And that’s bad because….?

Because facing up to the truth about yourself, your gifts and abilities, and the way you can best serve the profession, and then getting over your fears and excuses, is one of the scariest things you can do throughout your career.  And it’s not like you do it once and you’re done with the process:  if you’re growing as a professional, you are constantly surveying the landscape, looking at where you are now, as well as where you would like to be.

Where would you like to be?

That’s the kicker:  I thought I knew.  Now everything ‘s up for grabs again.  This is very scary, but also delightful.

In what way?

Well, when you stop growing and learning, you might as well hang it up.  And I’m afraid you lot are stuck with me for quite some time.

All righty then.  Anything else to report?

I’ve just finished and turned in another book review.  Book reviewing knocks me out, and I’d love to do more of it, so I’m currently scouting out more opportunities there. 

I’ve also just been selected for the third cohort of the CLP Leadership Institute, a training program for Carnegie Library staff under the auspices of the Laura Bush 21st Century Librarian grant we received.  I’m hoping this means I’ll be exposed to a better quality of leadership literature; it definitely means a lot more meetings and seminars in my future, though, which brings us back to the problem of making more time to write for Alchemy.

So, what are you going to do about that?

I have a few ideas.  I seem to work better with structure and guidelines, so I’m looking for a writing template that will be both on-topic and regular.  Heaven help us all, I also have an idea for a completely separate library blog, and am quietly making my pitch to parties I suspect might be interested in collaborating on it.  If that takes off, it will debut near the end of April, and will serve to complement the kinds of things I like to discuss, but can’t always make time for.  It will also, I hope, fill an as-yet-unfilled niche in library world.

And that is…?

You’ll just have to rest in the mystery a little while longer.

Fair enough.  How are you going to spend the rest of your day?

I have one hour in which to take things that are currently on my desk and do whatever it takes to get them off of my desk and finished.  I will then spend the last two hours of my day on AskHere PA.

Do you like working virtual reference?

I absolutely love it.  Disdained by some, virtual reference is actually a key service these days, primarily because the quality and type of the questions received simply cries out for informed professionals who are skillful at ready-reference, information literacy, bibliographic instruction, and good writing/communication skills.  A healthy dose of compassion certainly doesn’t hurt either. 

Can you send us off with a video?

Ask and get.  Here’s a clip from a British band called The Heavy, whose performance on David Letterman was simply splendid.  If you enjoy old-school soul, but appreciate contemporary twists, you’d do well to watch this clip, and then run — not walk — to pick up The House That Dirt Built.

Woah!  Dancing skeletons!  That’s, er, not very professional.

Probably not in the conventional sense.  Remember, though:  Alchemy’s all about balance and fun along with all those high standards.  See also “not forgetting you’re a human being with human needs” and “regular rock out breaks.”

Well, that was…very Alchemy.

Thanks!  Tune in next time for a little less fun, but a lot more professional philosophy, probably early next week.

A Plague On Both Your Hepburns?: Leaders, Change Agents, and Library Archetypes

That sound you heard was the door to Alchemy creaking back open after a long, long pause.  Besides the backlog created by snow day closures, there’s been a serious uptick in the amount and kind of work I’ve been doing, which has hampered my efforts to put together anything coherent in these chronicles.   It’s really difficult to be witty and poetic when you’re up to your eyeballs in journal title spreadsheets.

It is not, however, impossible.  Ergo, I give you my Hepburn post.

Backstory

The day I received my MLIS, one of my professors shook my hand, gave me a very nice coffee mug as a token of the school’s appreciation, and proudly proclaimed, “Congratulations Leigh Anne!  You’re a change agent!”

I was somewhat nonplussed by this.  Remember, it was 2004, and the phrase hadn’t yet become a buzzword — at least, I don’t think it had. Despite the fact that I opted for electives in both management and library marketing, I’d never heard it.  I figured it was a compliment, though, because the professor looked so happy.  So I smiled and said “thank you,” and that was the end of that…for the moment.

The memory hasn’t faded, though.  Off and on over the course of my career I’ve asked myself what that phrase means, or could mean, and how it compares to leadership.  I’ve been watching leaders and managers for a while now, operating under the premise that I want to be a leader.  But what if I’m just a really good change agent instead?

Not that the two are mutually exclusive.  Which brings us to Audrey and Katharine Hepburn.

A Theory, With Disclaimers

Broad sweeping generalizations are fairly odious; moreover, I am the least qualified person on the planet to speak to possible archetypes of male librarianshp.  Although I’ve admired the gentlefolk from both afar and anear for many a day, I would not presume to try to describe what it’s like to be a “guybrarian.”  So one of you will simply have to pick up the “Gary Cooper / Cary Grant / Harry Caray” metaphor and run with it.  Or craft something utterly delightful of your own.  Or be a good sport and try to find your inner Kate ‘n Audrey as you read along.

That being said, ladies, let’s get down to brass tacks.

Even within the limitations of the archetype structure, it seems to me that you can tell a lot about librarians by determining whether they are more like Audrey Hepburn or Katharine Hepburn.  To illustrate, I will examine both archetypes, listing strengths and weaknesses, and determine whether their qualities tend toward leadership or change agent-ship.

Please note that by no stretch of the imagination am I speaking of the historical personages Audrey and Katharine, the ones who had private lives and histories that obviously went much deeper than a superficial library blog-gloss can go. I refer, however, to the iconic Kate and Audrey we’ve built up in our minds, the ones we think of when we hear the name “Hepburn.” That is the whole point, after all, of an archetype: it’s a broad portrait of a certain ethos, not a granular portrait of a complex human being.

One final warning:  you may already think you know where you are on this particular spectrum.  Try to suspend your judgment until you get to the end of the essay. You may be surprised by what you find in yourself.

Audrey Hepburn:  The Ladylike Leader

Three words:  little black dress.  Three more: Breakfast At Tiffany’s. One more for good measure: Givenchy. The Audrey type is redolent with class and sophistication, gentleness and grace, poise and good manners, humor and kindness. An open face with a lovely smile. Everybody loves Audrey, because you simply can’t hate her: she’s too darned nice. Even if you did hate her, she’d probably continue to be sweet and kind to you anyway.

The Audrey librarian is service-oriented to the point of self-sacrifice.  Even if she’s drowning in her own work, she’ll gladly help you with yours, and never complain about it.  The surliest of problem patrons melts in her presence because nothing ever seems to faze her, and she knows how to turn bad transactions into good ones with skillful listening and speaking.  She has an uncanny knack of knowing when to enforce a policy and when to bend it, and because she is always kind and gracious to everybody, she can never be accused of playing favorites.

Audreys serve on every committee that invites them and volunteer for every extra opportunity they can.  They’re also prone to bringing in donuts, cookies, or other baked goods to the office, most likely baked from scratch.  If she does bring store-bought, she springs for the cute cupcakes from the gourmet cupcake emporium in the hip neighborhood.   And again, all of this would be utterly unbearable if they weren’t really good cupcakes.

She’s good at readers’ advisory, reference, cataloging, Web 2.0, Web 3.0, storytimes, and organizing teen art clubs and Super Mario Kart tournaments.  If the circulation desk is short-staffed, she volunteers to pitch in.  If the library’s closed due to weather, she starts calling down the phone tree.  She gives 110% all day, every day, and never, ever, ever complains, even though she hasn’t had a raise in 5 years.

Lest you think Audreys are too perfect to exist, let me assure you they have a dark side.  Audreys have a bad habit of squelching their true feelings and accepting poor working conditions, because they don’t feel they have a right to complain.  If they are not given enough praise and recognition by their supervisors, they will start to feel bitter.  Audreys are also prone to overwork and martyrdom, and if they keep their frustrations bottled up too long, little things can set them off.  Audreys also have a hard time asserting themselves, and tend to avoid conflict like the plague.  Audreys may also grow to resent always being asked to take the leadership role, but are often unwilling or unable to delegate responsibilities to colleagues.  Audreys are prone to burnout, and tend to suffer when their high ideals don’t match up to the sometimes dull realities of library service, especially in its administrative aspects.

Katharine Hepburn:  The Challenging Change Agent

Two words: Desk Set.  One more:  trousers.  Kates are loud, vivacious, and opinionated.  They actively question policies, eye “the way we’ve always done it” with suspicion, and subscribe to the theory that it’s easier to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.  Kates avidly read professional journals and library blogs looking for cool new things to try in their libraries, and when they’re at the reference desk, the problem patrons tend to give them a wide berth, because they know no shenanigans will be tolerated.

Katharines love to learn new things.  If they’re reference librarians, they’re curious about cataloging; if they’re children’s librarians, they want to know more about adult services.  They loathe getting bogged down in the minutiae of administration, but at the same time they want to be a part of the bigger picture of library service.  Kates are generalists rather than specialists, and don’t like to be pigeonholed as any one kind of librarian.

Much to the dismay of people around them, especially the Audreys in their organization, Kates like blunt, direct communication.  If you want a Kate to do something, you can’t hint around or be subtle.  However, once you tell her exactly what you want and when you want it, she will bend over backwards to deliver it.  Kates don’t tolerate abusive behavior from peers or patrons, and they ask pointed questions about new policies or initiatives.  If the emperor has no clothes, they not only say so, they take a photograph and put it up in their library blogs, and if you want constructive criticism about anything, you should ask a Kate first.

Like their Audrey counterparts, Kates too have a dark side that must be acknowledged.  While they sincerely love and respect their colleagues, Kates don’t always play well with others, and may have difficulty finding a job situation where they fit in with the group.  Kates don’t “do” the social graces very well, perceiving them as fake and phony, and may therefore come across as tactless, thoughtless, or just plain rude.  Kates want to move forward as quickly as possible, both with their ideas and within the organizational structure, so they may become impatient, frustrated, and angry with those in her organization who resist change.   They don’t always know how to communicate their visions in such a way that the rest of the group can relate to, and they may sometimes be overly critical of colleagues whose work styles and habits are very different from theirs.

Hepburns as Leaders and Change Agents

I’d like to stress that while the archetypes are very different, there’s no wrong way to Hepburn.  After a lot of thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that both Kates and Audreys could make very effective leaders, and that the variances are primarily of style rather than skill set:  Audreys, who tend to catch more flies with honey, are excellent choices to lead departments whose employees already have strong working relationships; although their fear of conflict makes them less effective in situations where there are interpersonal conflicts, an Audrey who is willing to work with her shadow qualities can learn to become a compassionate, yet firm, leader who can graciously lay down the law, an iron fist in a velvet glove.

Kates, I must confess, lend themselves far better to being change agents.  Change is scary and unsettling for most people, but Katharines thrive on it, and are extremely skillful at creating things that don’t yet exist.  It’s not that Kates can’t be good leaders – the problem is, their visions are usually so outrageous that people might be afraid to follow.  And unless a Kate is willing to work with her shadow qualities, and smooth down her rough edges a little, she may have a hard time convincing people that the horizons she’s pursuing are worthwhile ones.

In an ideal situation, you’d have co-leadership situations where an Audrey was paired with a Kate – say, an Audrey manager with a Kate senior staffer, or a Kate dean of students with an Audrey head librarian.  Since the real is always far less than the ideal, however, a good place to start is with yourself:  are you more like Katharine or Audrey?  In which ways?  What do you need to work on a little?  Is there a Kate or an Audrey in your organization who could help you with that?

Now look at the organization as a whole.  What’s the Kate-to-Audrey ratio?  Who holds the major position of power – Kates, or Audreys?  How do you feel about that?  What archetypal qualities of either figure would best move your organization forward?  How can you cultivate those?

Because this is a philosophical ramble, and not a scholarly study, I’m sure there are gaping holes in what I’m trying to do here.  But I think it’s off to a good start.  Now it’s your turn.  What, if any, archetypal qualities rang true for you in this essay?  Where did I miss the mark?  Do you have another archetypal structure in mind that communicates your own perceptions more effectively?

Okay, that was entirely too much fun to think and write about.  Back to more traditional work it is.  But the next time we talk, I’ll have some things to say about anger, and how to handle it in an appropriate, professional manner.

Middle Marching

Lest I give the impression that Alchemy can do no wrong, or that things are always easy for me, I must confess that this past week has been very much like leadership bootcamp.   Not in a bad way.  In fact, ultimately in a productive, “growthy” way.  But I take my lumps just like everyone else, I assure you.

One of my biggest challenges is what I think of as, with apologies to George Eliot, middle marching.  It’s the tightrope-walker phenomenon that occurs when you have multiple constituencies to please, and middle managers know just what I’m talking about, because they’re accountable to both administrators above them, as well as their staff below them.

In my case, it’s not so simple.    I’m a Gen-X project leader bobbing and weaving between Boomer managers and the Millennials on their staffs.  This means that my responsibilities are, in no particular order:

  • To make my boss look good
  • To make my library look good
  • To encourage and nuture my team members
  • To make sure my project is compliant with the larger organizational picture
  • To foster change and innovation in a way that is non-threatening for all stakeholders, and compliant with the library’s strategic plan

It’s obvious where the struggles lie here.  You can’t make omelettes without breaking some eggs.  I would argue, however, that breaking eggs for the sake of breaking eggs is simply a waste of eggs.  Some eggs aren’t meant to be broken.  Some eggs are meant to be decorated prettily and put in a basket with hay.  Others are meant to hatch and become peeps who will grow up and lay more eggs, some of which might be omelette-appropriate.  It goes without saying that you should never throw eggs at anybody else’s glass house.  Bottom line?  You have to know which eggs to break, and which to leave intact.

That incredible, edible metaphor is all a roundabout way of saying that communication is probably the most important thing a leader does (or doesn’t do).  Nothing else matters as much.  You can be aces at everything else, but if you can’t communicate properly and professionally, you’re going to have problems.

So, how do you middle march?  Here are some of my guesses, based on what I’ve learned this week:

  • Assume that everyone has good intentions.  Cling to that assumption even when you want to pull your hair out.
  • Wait 24 hours before you send e-mails about sensitive issues.
  • Better yet, go talk to people directly.  You probably need the exercise, and there’s less chance of being misunderstood.
  • Be able to back up every decision you make with policies, procedures, goals and objectives. 
  • Don’t take anything personally.
  • Don’t take anything personally [lather, rinse, repeat]
  • Apologize when you are wrong.  Stick to your guns when you are right.
  • Pick your battles.  Not every hill is the one you want to fight and die on.
  • Concede defeat graciously.  You have, after all, lived to fight another day.
  • Put yourself in other people’s shoes.  Build bridges, not walls.
  • Forgive other people for their mistakes and move on.
  • Forgive yourself for your mistakes, and move on.
  • Strive to be the kind of person your cats already think you are [except for the whole "made of tuna" part].
  • Communicate well, clearly, and often!

Thoughts?  I need all the help I can get, dears. :)

We have almost reached the end of a very busy/exciting week!  Next week,when the dust settles, I will have much to tell.  For now, we’ll push the Hepburn post back a teensy bit so that I can keep my promise to Library Scenester Erin Dorney, who tagged me in an internet happiness meme. Normally I’m as enthusiastic about memes as I am about diphtheria, but since we could all use a little more happiness in this crazy world, I’m down with it just this once.

January AWLA (PP) Pick: Fierce Leadership

I’m finally ready to get cracking on this project!  Of course, in the interim, I’ve had a number of experiences that have really challenged my views of leadership.  Stay tuned for posts called “Middle Marching” and “Hepburn v. Hepburn:  Leader or Change Agent?”, as well as a sidebar on following and followers.

For now, though, I’m delivering on my promise with the January pick of the August Wilson Leadership Academy (Patent Pending):  Susan Scott’s Fierce Leadership.

Summary

Scott’s introduction outlines her philosophy/methodology, then includes a section in which she defines “fierce.”  This is both useful and important, as it lets the reader know right from the get-go what s/he’s in for.  The concept of “squid eye” as an analytical tool is introduced – “squid eye” is analogous to what we here at Alchemy refer to as “calling shenanigans”; it is both an important tool in Scott’s repetoire, and the most delightful phraseology I’ve encountered in a book since kicking back with Jill Conner Browne.

The bulk of the text is devoted to six “Fierce Practices,” as follows:

  • 365 face-to-face feedback
  • Hiring for “smart + heart”
  • Modeling accountability and holding people able
  • Actually engaging employees
  • Customer connectivity
  • Radical transparency

For each practice, Scott explains what it is and compares it to “business as usual” in organizations, then demonstrates how the fierce practice can trump it.  Specific questions you can use to apply “squid eye” to your own organization are provided, and sections called “Taking it to the Organization” and “Personal Action Plan” give the reader the tools to apply the practice in concrete fashion.

Scott’s book ends with an exceptionally poetic conclusion and a list of recommended readings which, while short, decidedly emphasizes quality over quantity.

Rhetoric

This book will appeal to you if you have both a poetic soul and a pragmatic outlook; Scott draws heavily on literary, poetic, and diverse spiritual principles to make her points.  She also has a no-nonsense, earthy sense of humor that had this reviewer rolling in the aisles at times.   Books like Scott’s deliver the best of both worlds:  enough inspiration to appeal to folks who lead from the heart, paired with  enough pragmatism and tough-love sensibility to reassure the cynical that they’re for real.

 Recommended for 

 Librarians who despair at times over the challenges in their organizations, but haven’t given up hope that things could be changed for the better.

Drawbacks

  The only fault I could find with this book is that if you haven’t read Scott’s first book, Fierce Conversations, you may find yourself lost at times, or perhaps not getting the full extent of what’s offered in Fierce Leadership. While Scott does her best to make connections between the two books, reading one is decidedly a pre-requisite to reading the other. Had I known this, I might not have chosen it for AWLA (PP), but its merits more than make up for this one teensy deficit. And now you know which order to read them in, so my work here is done. :) I’ll be nabbing Fierce Conversations for myself ASAP.

Discussion/Analysis

Despite my efforts to remain detached, I have to admit that I’m really fond of this book, and think it should be used in leadership training for librarians.  The concepts of fierce conversations and squid eye directly address the biggest problem I think our profession has:  an inclination towards public displays of passive-aggressive behavior.

In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s quite a bit of change going on the profession right now.  Some folks fear it; others embrace it.  Regrettably, however, few people in either camp have demonstrated the ability to communicate constructively outside of their own belief circle. It drives me bananas to read about librarians slagging on each other in anonymous blogs and blog comments, and/or sending anonymous tips about “horrible” things other libraries and librarians are doing. Academic librarians diss public librarians, and vice versa. Adult librarians look down on YA librarians, and vice versa. School librarians, medical librarians, and corporate librarians get little to no love, except from other medical, corporate, and school librarians. Very rarely do I actually see an attempt to build bridges and actually communicate.

This makes no sense to me. Do pediatricians sit around talking smack on plastic surgeons? Do tax law specialists blog anonymously about public defenders? Only in librarianship does there seem to be a so-called “professional” community that sometimes behaves like anything but.

[NB: I am open to the possibility that I am simply looking in the wrong places and reading the wrong things. Given that reason and critical thinking are not as "sexy" as anonymous slagging, and harder to find, it's possible there are people out there working for the greater good who simply aren't getting the attention they deserve. Somebody, please, prove me wrong, and provide some links.]

At the organizational level, what I see and hear time and time again is that there’s all this stuff going wrong, but we can’t do anything about it because we’re just little people who have no power.  Worse, when there are attempts to change the status quo, they usually involve creating “us vs. them” divides, in which some folks in the organization are cast as villains, and the perception is put about that if “those folks” would just retire, leave, or get a clue, we would have a happy-sunshine-rainbow-land where everything worked perfectly.

After watching all of this for about seven years now, I call shenanigans, er, squid eye, on the whole kit and kaboodle.

I understand where it comes from, though, mostly because I’m no better than anyone else in this regard when the conversations have the potential to get fierce.  Ferocity, as Scott lays it out, is uncomfortable.  It’s scary as hell.  It doesn’t feel good to have to go to somebody and tell them something they probably don’t want to hear.  It doesn’t feel good to have people angry with you because you spoke your truth.  And it’s lonely, sometimes, to be the person who disagrees with the crowd, even if you know in your heart you’re being true to yourself, and couldn’t just go along to get along if you wanted to.

It’s easier, sometimes, to blog anonymously, or comment anonymously, than to put your name on something and stand behind it, devil take the consequences.  It’s easier to talk about people behind their backs than it is to try to build bridges with them, or tell them to their faces why they’ve upset you.  What’s even worse is that it’s easier to stay silent than it is to do any of those things.

It’s easier to hire the person who fits in with the organization, rather than the person who could move you forward if you gave him/her a chance.  It’s easier to blame other people for what’s going wrong than to examine your conscience and see how you might have contributed to the problem through your own behavior.  It’s easier to write off your problem patrons, your middle and/or upper management, or your disgruntled employees rather than making the time to get to the root of their issues and see what can be healed.  And don’t even get me started on “radical transparency”:  for as much as we bandy that about in library science, I suspect that many of us simply aren’t ready for it.

But I think we could change.

And, ultimately, belief is at the root of ferocity.  Scott makes it very clear that you don’t have to believe what she believes, but you sure as hell need to believe in something.  For librarians, this is doubly important.  We are not corporate, in the sense that what we do is not about engendering profits.  Success, in our realm, is measured in lives changed, via refdesk ticks, the number of people at our programs, the number of database accesses, etc.  Those metrics speak to supporting democracy and transforming society.  We are the luckiest freaking people on the planet, because we don’t just crank out widgets.  We don’t pollute the environment, either – in fact, whenever we do our jobs, the world is generally a better place than we found it.

So why don’t we act like it more often?

Think about your library for just a minute.  Think about how awesome it could be if, in the popular parlance, people stopped being polite and started being real.  Think about how much more the profession would rock if we actually started reaching out to people who were different from us, and engaged them in frank talk and creative solutions, instead of pitching attitude, calling names, and creating “just like us” enclaves where no ideas ever threatened our view of what libraries should be like.

Did that upset you?  Raise your hackles, perhaps?  Good.  If the shoe fits, you should probably buy it in as many colors as you can.  And if you decide you don’t like those shoes, then maybe it’s time to start shopping for different shoes.

Don’t worry.  I’m looking at myself just as closely, because, as Scott observes repeatedly throughout Fierce Conversations, the best way to create change and rock an organization is to look at yourself, and where you fall short, and start there.  Indeed, it is the only place to start.  If I had a dollar for every time I’ve failed to be the person I know I could be, I could buy you all a copy of the book…but I believe I could learn from my mistakes and move foward.

I mean, let’s face it: who am I? I’m an ordinary librarian in an ordinary community. I’m not a role model. I’m not a “famous librarian” (and, quite frankly, unless your name is Nancy Pearl or Casanova, neither are you). I’m a lovably flawed human being who wants to improve, and would like us to at least be able to talk about all this stuff honestly. In other words, I’m probably just like you. But though I be but little, I be fierce.

Who’s with me?

Resources

I love companion websites, and I love authors who give away freebies.  Visit Fierce Leadership to get some goodies from Scott, sign up for her newsletter, learn more about her company, and watch a short video that nails the gist of her philosophy/practices.

There you have it. Once Feburary’s AWLA (PP) pick is ready, I’ll create the AWLA (PP) page with January’s post archive, and a list of suggested companion readings and questions to ask yourself. And if I haven’t upset anybody with this column, then I probably did it wrong.

Take care, and I’ll be back soon.

Prelude to a Leadership Project: Notes, Thoughts, Musings

Well.  Since the idea flashed into my head, I’ve been reading and thinking and reading some more, and thinking harder, about leadership and learning.  And I realized I could probably spend the rest of my life doing this, if I weren’t careful.  Not that it wouldn’t be fun.  But then I couldn’t indulge all the other ideas I get on a regular basis.  So I’m making some disclaimers and setting some parameters.

Learning Styles Differ

This little experiment is autodidactic and book-centric because that’s what works best for me.  If this also works for you, you will probably enjoy it.  There are, however, many other ways to learn.  Visual learners, for example, could get a perfectly acceptable crash course in leadership from Aaron Sorkin’s Sports Night, which addresses teamwork, making tough decisions, mentoring, interviewing, good and bad bosses, and handling employees’ personal quirks.  Dana Whitaker’s charming corporate blunders alone are worth the price of admission, and Jeremy Goodwin is the best reference librarian who never found his true calling.

Affordable formal training is certainly not to be sneezed at.  Workshops, classes, and webinars/telecasts abound, offered by local, county, state, and national professional associations.  Nothing in your area?  Think about what you might need and start the conversation with your supervisor about how to get that started:  “I’d really like to learn X.  How could we make that happen?”  S/he might have some thoughts/leads you weren’t aware of.

And of course, there’s so much to read online.  You could spend the rest of your life moodling over content from the Lyrasis Leadership Network. PLA maintains several communities of practice you might find useful. LLAMA is, of course, the go-to spot for online leadership info at the national level. And if you can’t find a kindred spirit somewhere at ALA Connect, well, honestly, you’re just not trying.

[Aside: I hang my head in shame. I love ALA Connect. I just can't decide which social network to quit in order to make time for it. Er, are they on Facebook? Probably. BRB.]

Most importantly, we have to acknowledge right out of the gate that experience is often the best teacher, whether we like it or not. You can learn more from one meeting, one boss (good or bad), or one conversation, than you can in a lifetime of reading…IF you are paying attention. Since it is awfully hard to be conscious and pay attention all the darned time, however, we will just have to fall back on book-learning as a supplement.  Just remember that the lightsaber pointing at the moon isn’t the moon, okay?

So, do you like to read? Are you interested in leadership? Are you appreciative of, but sometimes overwhelmed by, all the options out there? Welcome to the August Wilson Leadership Academy (patent pending), where you’ll get ruminations on one leadership book per month, as well as a summary of its appeal factors so you can see if it would be worthwhile to get your hands on the book.

Speaking of appeal factors…

A Note on Rhetoric

I will be offering quite a bit of commentary on rhetorical approaches and techniques simply because different things work for different people.  Some people like positive, inspiring language.  Others prefer a frank, down-to-earth approach.  If an author’s tone doesn’t resonate with you, you’re less likely to reap a benefit from a book, no matter how sensible its information is.  So you’ll know exactly what you’re dealing with before you pick it up.

Leadership vs. Management

You don’t necessarily have to have a formal leadership role in your organization to be a good leader.  Or, to make it a twisted syllogism, all managers should be leaders, but not all leaders will be managers.  I don’t want to talk about management, per se, because I don’t have much practical hands-on experience with it.  I was a teacher for quite a few years, but managing a classroom of college freshmen is not the same as managing a group of adult peers.  In libraria,  I have supervised various clerks and one intern, but I’d like to get a little more experience before I start talking about it.  It seems to me that if you work on the leadership part first, regardless of whatever your title happens to be, the management pieces of the puzzle will fall into place.  Just a theory.  I’d like to hear more from folks with a bit more experience on this point… 

Following

 Someone pointed out, and rightly so, that if you’re going to talk about leading, you’re going to have to talk about following.  If nobody’s following you, you’re not really leading, so it’s important to take a look at followers and their needs/wants.  I will probably tackle that first, as soon as the appropriate books come in; I was tickled pink to learn that “followership” is an official LC subject heading, and I think those materials will work nicely with the first book I have in mind to review/discuss.

No, I’m not telling you what it is just yet.  You’ll just have to wait patiently.  Very patiently, probably, given that there are a lot of meetings coming up on my calendar.  But we’ll get there, eventually.  If not next week, then by the end of the month to make my “once-a-month” deadline.

Crystal Ball Fall Down, Go Boom: Thoughts on the Future of Libraries

Happy new year, dear readers!  I missed you.  Let’s talk about the future.

Late last year the newly-minted ACLA committee on the Future of Libraries met for the first time to set parameters and get clear on exactly what the heck we’re doing.   To read our minutes, and see links to some of the documents we’re reading, check out our page on the ACLA wiki.

I’m thrilled to be a part of this group because I see it as a logical extension of the kind of thing I do every day in Ref. Services: take a look at the environment around me, and imagine what things could be like.

[Notice that I said "could" and not "should."  Thinking about the future should be descriptive, not perscriptive.  But I digress.]

Library folk who think about the future of libraries sometimes meet with scorn for being unrealistic.  This is a pity, because exercising the imagination should be somewhat fanciful.  To paraphse Einstein, you can’t solve a problem using the level of thinking at which the problem was created.  And since libraries have more than a few problems right now, why not try using the power of the imagination?

At the same time, however, scenario planners and futurists would do well to be careful that they don’t err too far on the side of the positive.  Perhaps it’s just my fondness for dystopian sci-fi, but I’m probably going to the be the person on the committee wondering, “What if the future really, really sucks?”

One only has to pick up a newspaper, skim the weblines, or watch TV news for a few moments to get the skinny:  it’s entirely possible that humanity is headed down the creek, sans paddle.  Climate change, poverty, homelessness, terrorism, drugs, pandemics over which we have little control (like swine flu), pandemics over which we have some control, but refuse to exert it (like diabetes and heart disease), hunger (which is ironic, considering how the Western diet leads to diabetes and heart disease), racism, bigotry, and the persistent problem of violence against women.  Yeah verily, the future hath great potential to suck, and suck right mightily.

You can see why I don’t get invited to more librarian parties.

At this point in my argument, someone is likely to be thinking, “But what does any of that stuff have to do with libraries?”  My response is simply this:  libraries do not exist in a vacuum.  They are part and parcel of the societies around them, and any futurecasting that’s done should take into consideration all the problems a community has, and all the things that could go wrong, as well as imagining the bright and shiny potentials.

Now, all that being said, I must admit that I don’t think it’s hopeless.  If I did, I wouldn’t have agreed to serve on the committee.  I believe, however, that the following points are going to be extremely important in determining the future of libraries in Allegheny County:

  1. Our region has some serious challenges that need to be addressed head-on by the group.
  2. Responsible scenario planning will include descriptions of things that could go wrong, and the library’s role in creating or amplifying solutions.
  3. Collaborations with other non-profits that address problematic social issues in Allegheny County should be approached ASAP and brought to the table to help create solutions.
  4. Ditto the politicians. 
  5. Librarians are going to have to get very, very loud, but in such a way that the stakeholders mentioned in 3 and 4 will pay attention.

That’s a lot of work to do, but there’s something else that gives me hope:  the future is not something “out there” that arrives one day on your doorstep like NetFlix.  The future is something we create, every day, out of the raw materials of whatever we have in the present.  As I look around at the people with whom I have the privilege of working, my hope increases, because I can see what they can do on an individual basis.  United, we could be virtually unstoppable.

The future will be what we make of it.  It may not be all rosy-glorious, and it will certainly entail a lot of hard work.  But I think we are up to the challenge.  And I believe we could have the most amazing library system in the entire country sometime in the next twenty years, if we are willing to do the work it would take to get there.

My personal interests in this vein, of course, tend to fall more and more on the side of helping staff.  It’s not that serving patrons isn’t important.  It is, and it always will be.  But more and more I look around library world, and I wonder:  who will take care of the caretakers?  Who will help create and sustain the world-class caliber of people it will take to create an amazing 21st-century library system?  Who will help lay the foundations for better internal conditions so that the people who do not feel called to formal leadership positions can continue to do what they choose to do best:  fill information needs and provide customer service at the reference desk?

I would like to be one of those people, I admit.  Hence the August Wilson Leaderhip Academy (patent pending) project, of which we will speak more next time I get a chance to write.

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