10 Things I Will Do When I’m A Library Director

I think about the future a lot.  The present is a good place to be; some would argue it’s the only place to be.  But I also believe in lifelong learning and growing, and I already know that, someday, I want to be a library director.  So I spend a goodish chunk of my time thinking about that goal, and how I will get there.

Part of said thinking involves visualizing myself in certain situations.  What would I do if X, Y, or Z happened?  How will I interact with my board?  With my community?  With my patrons?

The result of all that thinking is this somewhat idealistic list of things I solemnly swear I will do when I am a library director.  Those of you who currently wear that hat may smile or correct me as you please, but these are my thinks based on my perspective in the here-and-now.

  1. I will know the first and last names of everybody I work with.  Yes, even if it’s a big library.  Yes, from the person who cleans the toilets to the president of my board.  I will take an active, genuine interest in their lives, seeing them not merely as employees, but as people with hopes and dreams who, properly cultivated, can make the organization more excellent via their personal growth and development.
  2. I will treat everyone on my staff with dignity and respect.  If I am wrong, I will apologize.  If I have to do something unpopular, I will explain why, and clearly.  I will communicate with them clearly and frequently, and I will respect everyone’s inherent worth, regardless of race, religion, gender, class, or favorite sports team.
  3. I will nurture and encourage innovation and change.  I will support my staff when they have wild and crazy ideas, give them the opportunity to test out their theories, even–perhaps especially–the ones of which I’m skeptical.  I will trust that they love the library and the community too, and that they have its best interests at heart.  I will actively seek out staff and volunteers who can help me create a 21st-century library for 21st-century patron needs, and I will be fearless about trying new things and making mistakes.
  4. I will pitch in and help with whatever task needs done, no matter how big or small.  Something that left a big impression on me as an undergraduate was an event the college president organized every year during homecoming.  He called it “Lance Cooks,” and it means exactly what it says:  he cooked and served food in the cafeteria line, and made conversation with everybody who passed through.  It blew my mind that the college president would do that, and it made me feel good about the future of our campus.  It also makes me want to be the director who opens the front doors every morning, a la Will Manley, or who works the circulation desk regularly.
  5. I will live in the community I serve, and become an active, engaged member of it.   No ridiculous commutes for me.  I want to be right up close to the action, shopping in the community’s stores, volunteering at its other non-profits, and getting to know its people in all sorts of situations, not just director-patron ones.  If my job is to lead a library, then I want to do it in the most accessible fashion possible.  The title of “director” should be a bridge, and not a barrier.
  6. I will dress up like a pirate on Halloween.  Okay, to be fair, I’m already planning on doing that anyway–but that’s not the point!  Leadership is a very serious business, especially during difficult times.  However, I don’t ever, ever, ever want to lose sight of the fact that, despite its difficulties, life has plenty of fun things to offer, and I will bend over backwards to create an atmosphere of fun, trust, and bonhomie in my library.
  7. I wil bend over backwards to make the arcana of librarianship transparent and comprehensible to my board.  Face it:  there are going to always be some things that only librarians care about, and that would make the community’s eyes glaze over if we tried to explain, no matter how much we prettified it.  That being said, we ARE degree-holding professionals with a particular skill set and particular rationales for why we do things.  Sometimes, that will need to be explained to a board, cheerfully, and with patience.  This is the area where I have the least expertise, but I’ve served on one strategic planning committee, and got a good introduction there to the scope of the task ahead.
  8. I will be a loud, aggressive, passionate, fearless advocate for libraries.  I will blog.  I will write collection development policies that uphold the community’s freedom to read.  I will podcast.  I will take advantage of every traditional and emerging technology to get the word out about the value of my library.  I will cultivate relationships with my local and state senators and representatives.  I will work with my Friends Group.  I will get more deeply involved at the state and national levels of library advocacy.
  9. I will embrace transparency whenever possible.  I will make it easy for community members to contact me.  I will have an open-door policy with the staff.  I will hold open houses and community meetings, and I will communicate early and often about any service changes that might come along.  I will be candid about library finances.  I will ensure, whether or not I’m actually responsible for website maintenance, that my library’s website contains the most up-to-date information about the library, its policies/procedures, and its resources.
  10. I will stay humble, grounded, and focused.  I will constantly question whether or not the actions I take are in the best interests of my staff and the community.  I will earn my salary with blood, sweat and tears, down to the last penny.  I will surround myself with intelligent people who will gently, but firmly, correct me if I am drifting off course.  I will network with other library directors and learn from their expertise, not just when I’m a newbie, but for as long as I have the privilege to lead.  I will aggressively pursue continuing education opportunities, and my default setting will be that there is always, always something more to learn.  And finally, I will be open to the lesson in all life experiences, including the gut-wrenching, painful ones.

That’s a tall order, I know.  Break it to me gently, if you must disabuse me of my idealistic notions.  But I would argue, once again, that if we give up our ideals, we are lost.  Even if they are impossible, it is in the striving that we will become better library leaders.

Er, right?

But what about the fundraising part, you ask?  Ah, fundraising.  That’s a whole post in and of itself.  Given that I’ve wanted to be a fairy godmother since I was a child, it’s yet another one of those things I muse about all the darned time.  If I get a breather, we’ll discuss it.

Another Luminary Leader Passes

A colleague passed the word that E. J. Josey had left us, and everything else I was going to say seems a little insignificant.

That’s normal, I think. We pause for a moment out of respect for somebody who accomplished a great deal for the library profession. Please note that words used to describe Dr. Josey and his work include:

disrupted
noisily
activist
militant
challenged
angry

Those are words that have negative connotations, but the fact of the matter is, it’s how they’re applied that counts. Dr. Josey wasn’t angry, for example, for the sake of being angry, or to hurt anyone. He was angry about injustice, and he took his anger and used it to further the cause of what he felt was right. That’s what made him a leader.

Leaders do things. At the ALA level, they write resolutions and start roundtables. At other levels, they teach, or they manage, or staff the refdesk, or create budgets. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they speak, and when they do speak, it is both loudly and with passion. They aren’t afraid to make waves, and they certainly don’t care about popularity contests.

The kicker is, doing is hard. Talking is easy, and complaining is the subset of talking that’s easiest of all (right next to gossiping and backbiting). What kind of librarian do you want to be? The kind who complains a lot, and talks smack on other librarians? Or the kind who does things?

Rest in peace, Dr. Josey, and thank you for everything, from the written body of your work to the example you left behind.

Donations to The E.J. Josey Foundation for Justice and Peace can be sent to 526 West Second Street, Washington, NC 27889. Please consider making a contribution, if you can.

When next we speak, I’ll be writing from ALA, so it’s anyone’s guess what will capture my fancy, though I suspect it will be very EL-heavy.

Reading 2666

If reading is like dating–and I rather think it is–then there are books you date casually, and books you marry.

Reader, I married 2666. We were only together for 9 1/2 weeks, but it was worth it, and I will never be the same.

I have to confess, though, I might not have picked up the book so soon if if fate hadn’t intervened. My reading list is very long, and I am still working on titles I jotted down in 2006. Very rarely do I “jump” titles, but after I overheard someone in a coffeeshop brag that he could skip the novel because he’d read the Wikipedia entry, I figured a jump was justified.

Clearly, I need to stop hanging out in coffeeshops! Bad for the literary heart.

The Wikipedia entry isn’t bad, for what it’s worth. But it’s certainly not the same as making the committment to reading the novel. Wikipedia will tell you what happened; the novel will show you. Wikipedia will explain who the major characters are, and what their signifcance is. The novel will gradually reveal these things to you, in a slow, sensual fashion, as if unwinding seven veils. Wikipedia will explain the relationship between “The Part About the Critics” and “The Part About Archimboldi”; The novel will unfurl, like a rose, so slowly that you almost can’t stand it, and by the time you get to the last 100 pages, you’ll be reading at breakneck speed to see how it could possibly end in a satisfactory manner.

This is not to say that it was an easy read. Wikipedia summarizes the violent aspects of the novel, but there’s a difference between being told something is violent and watching said violence play out. There were times I had to put the book aside and pick up a fluffy vampire novel, or cheerful romance, just for balance (a colleague reported a similar experience – he had to retreat into graphic novels for a bit while reading). Anyone who cares about the status of women in our world today will be moved by the plight of the women of Santa Teresa, literary stand-ins for the as-yet unsolved victims of the Ciudad Juarez serial killer(s?). Death after death after death, until the reader can barely stand it – a perfect literary representation of the sort of real-life violence that we often choose not to see, because our hearts cannot bear it. Likewise with the mesmerizingly-horrible scene in a diner, where a group of police officers crack joke after offensive joke about women. As you read, you can hardly believe what you’re reading. The text is visceral – it hurts. And yet, doesn’t that happen, somewhere, every day in America, and around the world?

What would happen to our world, I wonder, if there were no more novels to serve as mirrors and critics of the human condition? Could Wikipedia ever evoke our sympathies the way an author can? Somehow, I doubt it.

Be that as it may, you may not be inclined to engage with the darker aspects of human nature. Not every book is for every reader, after all, and the whole point of “the user experience” is that everybody reserves the right to design her/his own. But if you are willing to dance with dark themes, to luxuriate in long, sprawling sentences and langorous prose, to walk down a complicated, twisting road to discover who the mysterious Archimboldi is, and why he has come to Santa Teresa, well…you are in for a brain-bending treat, dear reader.

I racked up a dollar in overdue fines while reading 2666; it seemed a small price to pay for the expansion of my mind and the profound stirring of my soul.

So, there’s that.

My resolution not to give any more presentations this year crumbled in the face of invitations (and a request from management). Next week, I’ll be back with summaries and slides.

Working Harder AND Smarter – Thursday Update

Did I say Wednesday?  That didn’t happen, clearly.  But, rather than let this blog become a bluesy litany of “where does the time go,” I’ll confine myself to a quick project update:

Collection development:  The one sane thing in my workday.  It’s nice to go through NYTBR and see you already have all the hot nonfiction either in the collection or on order.  Score!

Eleventh Stack:  Also holding steady.  Hit count is slightly down, but still above last year at this time.  It also mirrors last year’s slight decline.  I don’t mind fewer readers over the summer, as long as it’s part of a larger pattern.  Still, all the more reason to sit down and think of ways to kick it up a notch..

23 Things N’@:  Week 4 is all about wikis, and everybody’s happy!  The range of experience and abilities continues to educate me on how we can do this better next time.  Definitely a move to a tiered-activity system is in order, IMHO, something along the lines of beginner/intermediate/advanced, so that people have options to choose from according to their experience/comfort level. That being said, holy project success!

Twitter: I have mixed feelings about how this is going, and would like to write more about it at length.  Long story short, it’s an easily managed, low-maintenance project, but I don’t know if it’s achieving our objectives.  More time may be called for.  We shall see.

Database Stuff (CLP):  We haven’t met for a while because our new quarterly renewal schedule has made the committee process more efficient.  It’s time for 3rd-quarter renewals, though, and a look at 1st-quarter stats.  Plus, me being me, I have some wild and crazy ideas to throw at the committee to see what they think.  Secretly I want a database promotion task force.  I will pay for jackets that say “Database promotion task force,” if given free rein. :)

Database Stuff (EREC/ACLA): Good news!  The deal went through, and the county has purchased a subscription to Mango Languages.   Our patrons really miss Rosetta Stone, and for the life of me, I still don’t understand WHY they chose to stop selling the database to public libraries.  We are hoping, however, that Mango will fill this critical gap – language learning is very popular here, and the wait list for materials is very, very long.  We’re working out the hookup kinks as we speak – stay tuned, because you know I’m going to try to learn about seven languages myself. :)

Oh, and all that above about task forces and jackets?  Add a blog and multiply by ten, and you’ll get an idea of what I’d love to achieve at the countywide level.  Girl’s gotta dream…

Emerging Leaders:  You’re probably wondering why I have barely discussed this at all.  I’ve been meaning to, but now I don’t have to, really, because the fine folks at In the Library With the Lead Pipe have spread it all out for you in a nutshell.

Emerging Leaders has been like boot camp. I am getting a lot out of it. I am not sure that what I am getting out of it is exactly what the program planners intended, but such is life. :) It’s difficult to capture the zeitgeist of this kind of experience in medias res, so I’ll probably not even try until after annual, when it’s all over and done with.

Alternative Media Task Force/Event Planning: My other ALA project! The group process on this particular project has been amazing. We are putting together the Alternative Media Reception / SRRT 40th anniversary celebration, and it’s going to be awesome. Stay tuned for the official announcement, because you’re really not going to want to miss it.

And just because it’s not nearly busy or exciting enough around here, guess where the next G20 summit is going to be held? It’s going to be one crazy summer at Alchemy, so stick around…bonus points if you can identify the Sports Night references in this post…

Peace, Love and Progressive Librarianship

I had a few blog post drafts in the hopper, but I’ve deleted all of them. Given the events of this past weekend here in Pittsburgh, to say nothing of the multiple murders committed in Binghamton, NY; Tacoma, WA; and, sadly, far too many other places lately, writing about library issues seems, well, trivial.

I know this is false, but I don’t seem to have the words to express how I’m feeling about our profession, and its role in helping the world become more peaceful, less violent. Talking about this sort of thing is, Elvis Costello help us, like dancing about architecture.

Fortunately, Nick Lowe has already written the theme song for all of us who proudly consider ourselves “regressive” librarians (the AL can bite me), so we shall give him the bulk of the words and sentiments for the day.

Never doubt, progressive librarians, that your efforts to build a safer, saner world through socially responsible programming and collection development will someday prevail. Perhaps it’s idealistic folly, but I have to believe that statement. The alternatives strike me as decidedly unpalatable.

The personal is political. Librarianship is political. What are you doing to create a more socially just world in your library?

ETA: When you wear your heart on your sleeve, your librarianship occasionally slips. Many thanks to DW for the corrective. :)

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.

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….

The Saturday Symphony

Your alchemist likes working Saturdays.  Saturdays have a different rhythm, tone, and feel to them.  Being allowed to wear blue jeans certainly doesn’t hurt.

Today we’ve been busy, in a steady, non-frantic way, since the doors opened.  Folks are working on papers, using the computers, using the wireless, and otherwise reading and studying – two people are bent over a chessboard, carefully contemplating their next moves.

Questions have run the gamut from fetal alcohol syndrome to M.C. Escher to landlord/tenant relations (coupled with referrals to other libraries that can provide legal assistance, if needed).  There is, of course, the usual flurry of “how-do-I” questions:  reserve a computer, get headphones, find the mezzanine.  Visitors stroll through, gaping at the decor and architecture.  Tax preparation season has started, too, so there’s a steady undercurrent of helping people find the room where our VITA  (volunteer income tax assistance) volunteer has set up shop.

I won’t lie to you – it’s been challenging getting back into the groove after Midwinter.  Despite the amount of work I could do from a distance with my laptop, it didn’t make up for the experience of being able to get something out of my desk or the P drive, or to talk to a peer when I needed/wanted one.  And yet, the Saturday symphony makes all the re-entry challenges worthwhile. 

I really wish we had a webcam, sometimes.  That might be a sticky privacy wicket, though…

At any rate, I’ve been typing this between transactions, and I’ve been giving a lot of help intermittently to a patron who is not very comfortable with the internet.  I’ll leave you, therefore, with what feels like not just the soundtrack to today, but to the state of libraries in general.

Walk on, my brethren and sistren.  Walk on.

Midwinter Monday Miscellany

Today’s sessions included:

ALA Recruitment Assembly

Some of the Emerging Leader projects, including my team’s initiative, are tied to the Assembly’s work, so I thought it would be good to show up and see how they operate.  We discussed the various team projects, and I gave a summary of our team’s initial efforts.  I really enjoyed hearing about one team’s work expanding the recruitment wiki, a tool ALA members can use in their own recruitment efforts or in conjunction with their community partnerships.

Do you recruit people to librarianship, or to ALA? It’s something I love doing, mostly because I believe in libraries and library workers, and all the things we can do. Things don’t look great in the short term, to be certain. If, however, you pull back and take the long view, a world where information keeps expanding exponentially is a world that’s going to need a lot of information professionals. And you can’t have professionals without the word “profess,” which would be my first pick for a word to replace “recruitment.”

At any rate, here’s a semi-hypothetical question for you: if you had five minutes to talk about libraries and librarianship, what would you say? Would you be willing to say it on video? In a podcast? Would you prefer to write a humanifesta? What’s the best way to get the word out about libraries and librarians?

Dialogue With Directors Discussion Group

Ever wonder what directors, managers and administrators are thinking?  This discussion group was an interesting peek into the minds and thoughts of upper management, and if you think you’re too far removed from those concerns, you’re underestimating the value in understanding how people at all levels of your organization think.

Most of the discussion centered around the job-hunting process, which makes sense.  It’s good to know just how the rules and politics change once you reach a certain level of achievement.  Public library directors, for example, are hired by boards, and are expected to do different things than, say, middle managers.  Still, being a director seems so far out of reach at the moment; I found the following general advice most useful and helpful for the here and now:

  • Take on extra projects, especially when times are tough
  • Seek out good mentors
  • Make people your passion, because leadership/management are about supporting people
  • Create a list of skills you want, then seek out projects/opportunities to build those skills
  • Conduct informational interviews with people who have the kind of job you want
  • Be able to say no to opportunities that aren’t right for you
  • Be willing to pitch in and get your hands dirty, no matter what level job you have

SRRT Action Council

I thought this was going to be the membership meeting, but apparently that was a typo in the program – member meetings are only held at annual.  It worked out well, though, because I got to spend more time observing parliamentary meeting procedure and learned about a number of cool SRRT projects in process.

For example, there’s a resolution that went to Council Forum tonight suggesting that ALA start a “One Book, One Conference” project.  The resolution specifically indicated that a book devoted to Palestinian concerns (a few titles were suggested) would be a good selection, considering the current conflict in Gaza.  This is a controversial notion, but the point of SRRT is not to be popular:  it’s to raise questions and offer a dissenting view.  And without its dissenters and freethinkers, organizations become stagnant, stale, unable to change and grow. 

Another development I’m looking forward to is SRRT’s upcoming experimentation with OPAL for virtual meetings and task completion.  Social justice and technology – like chocolate and peanut butter, they’re just better together.  If you’re interested in alternative media; hunger, homelessness and poverty; GLBTQ issues; feminism; the environment, or a host of other social concerns, visit their page and see if this is the ALA slot that’s right for you.

We’ve covered a lot of territory over the last few days, in an attempt to shed some light on as many different parts of ALA as possible.  I remain amazed at how we’re all working toward the same goal – effective libraries – but use different skills, tools, and philosophies to achieve it.

What’s your role in your library?  Where do you feel like you’re doing the most good?  What tasks are you drawn to naturally?  Do see membership in a professional association as something that enhances your career, or your ability to serve?  Both?  Neither?  What roles and functions of library service are you happy to leave to others?  Your ever-curious alchemist wants to know!

Technology with heart

Thought for the day, from Thich Nhat Hanh’s recent work, The World We Have:

Technology has to be supported by brotherhood, sisterhood, understanding and compassion.

In other words, it’s not necessarily the tools you have, but how you use them.  When you staff virtual reference, are you merely searching for the fastest answer, or are you giving the best possible answer under the circumstances?  How do you handle a question that simply cannot be answered in 5 minutes or less (there are many that can’t)?  If your library has a blog, does it simply have a blog for the sake of having a blog, or does your blog have wit, humor, grace and soul?  If you’re on Facebook, does your Facebook group/page just sit there, or do you update it frequently with content geared toward your fans’ interests?

Your mileage may vary, I suppose.  I would argue, though, that even digital natives are human beings who respond to brotherhood, sisterhood, understanding and compassion.  Technologies should be our tools, not our gods.  Does the shiny tool obstruct our view of the humanity of the person at the other end of it, or do we look beyond that when we practice?

I put it to you, constant reader.  What is the relationship between technology and heart?

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