So, as many of you readers will be aware, David Lee King (writer of the highly-recommended-reading Designing the Digital Experience) and Michael Porter (aka Libraryman have just launched a new collaborative project - Library 101.
Without having clicked on anything yet, the title seems to imply that there is fundamental set of skills and knowledge that all librarians should have, and this project is based around defining / redefining that set.
And playing the video... well, it certainly encapsulates the passion and creativity that these prominent figures in the online librarian community are already renowned for. Sure, it's daggy, and it reinforces a few negative stereotypes about librarians being a little dysfunctional in their attempts to be "hip" and "cool" (hey, I should know) but it still managed to stir up enough of a buzz to get noticed by Boing Boing, which is pretty much the geek's equivalent of making it onto Australian Idol.
But, from listening to the lyrics of the song, the gist of it was society has changed, and the roles that libraries play in society has changed, therefore we need to rewrite our "library 101" - that is, our basic skills, to incorporate things like brand marketing, web development, etc in order to keep our profession relevant, otherwise we'll become extinct. I think that was the gist of it. I confess, after about three minutes, I started skipping bits.
Anyway, moving past the sales pitch, I moved into the real heart of this project - a list of 101 Resources and Things to Know. As the aforementioned lyrics suggested, the basics have changed. Which, of course, leads to the question, "Well, what are the new basics - the basic skills that all librarians should have?"
This proposed list, is it. The basics. The absolute minimum set of skills and knowledge that every accredited librarian should have.
And it's a pretty good list. A good list of examples. The only big ones that I feel has been overlooked are reader development and the knowledge and skills required to promote literacy, both in the context of early readers, as well as in addressing illiteracy in adults. But, arguably, these are only important amongst public and school libraries, so they aren't strictly a "101" skill.
Here's my issue, though.
If these are truly the basic essentials, then why aren't they assessed in the coursework that qualifies us as librarians?
And, in terms of continuing professional development, why is this message coming from David and Michael, and not from our professional associations?
Furthermore, if our professional associations announced that all professionals had a year to brush up their skills and get up to scratch with their "library 101", or their professional memberships would be revoked, then memberships would plummet - either out of an unwillingness to adapt, or out of protest.
And whilst this "library 101" represents the basics for people such as David and Michael, the fact is that for the majority of librarians, if they are good at their job, then they already possess their "library 101". Yes, the basics do change, and we change with them. However, our professional is so diverse, that it's unfair for one librarian to judge librarians working in a different library sector. An librarian who is an expert on picture books and developmental child psychology might not necessarily know a thing about hulu or web usability, but that doesn't make them "deficient" in their library skills.
So, with all due respect to David and Michael for their passion and desire to exhibit leadership in the industry - I'd like to suggest an alternate "library 101". It has nothing to do with lists of 23 things, or 101 things, or how many university degree you have. It's just about caring about what you do in your job as a librarian, doing it competently; exercising best practices. These best practices will vary depending on the context of your work, and will change with time.
By all means, expand on your knowledge to include value-adding skills, like web development, or marketing, or creating awesome presentations, or running team building exercises. or learning about the latest Google thing that most people off the street don't use. I mean, even customer service skills are only fundamental to those librarians who work on a reference desk. And there are plenty who don't. These skills will take you a long way. But don't judge other librarians if they don't have them - especially if they don't need them to do their job well. Feel free to share these skills, but allow them to reserve the right to decline and instead focus on honing the skills that their job requires.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
This is a library, not a...
From time to time, I hear the sentiment expressed:
"This is a library, not an x"
where x = one of the following:
a internet cafe
a coffee shop
a video arcade
a child care centre
an the list continues.
In a recent post on the YALSA blog, the library is this time compared to a supermarket - both in the way that it offers its services, and the way that its visitors use the service. It bemoans the habits of young people in using libraries as a place where they just go to grab something - anything - off the shelves, and only when they really need it. A place that you visit briefly to get what you need, but don't stay.
But more and more, we're encouraged to take a retail approach and learn to use marketing strategies in providing library services. To create, not only an information service, but an information experience. That means being able to engage library visitors the moment that they walk in the door, and present them with immediate reading choices through displays of face-out stock. And, realistically, most library visitors aren't time-rich enough to spend an hour or two at the library.
Furthermore, what may strike some observers as being a simple quick-and-easy "supermarket" service, where one walks in and "picks something up" is a little more complicated below the surface.
Back in the 1960s, a children's television show was designed to provide accessible educational viewing for young children. It was innovative for its time, because it introduced the idea of providing high quality education through methods used in television advertising. Child psychologists and educators teamed up with television producers and marketing experts. That show was called Sesame Street.
I think there is sometimes a misconception that taking a more "retail" approach to libraries somehow detracts from the educational value of the service, or ignores the "library science" approach to managing libraries. But they don't necessarily have to be opposing, mutually exclusive forces. Libraries have a valuable product and service - all that a retail approach offers is a more effective way of engaging library visitors.
And just as supermarket shelves are organised to be easily navigated, as well as have the most attractive stock displayed in order to sell as much of their product as possible, so too should libraries use similar strategies to provide ease of access to navigate the collections, and provide clear choices for the many visitors who don't necessarily know what they want, and are just browsing (but only have 10 minutes to find a book to borrow).
And at the same time, provide services that have made other businesses become social hubs for their users, whether it be a coffee shop, or gaming machines, or wireless internet, or board games. No, these things aren't going to lead library users to necessarily read more, any more than a coffee shop in Borders will, but it encourages people to interact socially in the library space, which is somewhat at the heart of building communities.
"This is a library, not an x"
where x = one of the following:
a internet cafe
a coffee shop
a video arcade
a child care centre
an the list continues.
In a recent post on the YALSA blog, the library is this time compared to a supermarket - both in the way that it offers its services, and the way that its visitors use the service. It bemoans the habits of young people in using libraries as a place where they just go to grab something - anything - off the shelves, and only when they really need it. A place that you visit briefly to get what you need, but don't stay.
But more and more, we're encouraged to take a retail approach and learn to use marketing strategies in providing library services. To create, not only an information service, but an information experience. That means being able to engage library visitors the moment that they walk in the door, and present them with immediate reading choices through displays of face-out stock. And, realistically, most library visitors aren't time-rich enough to spend an hour or two at the library.
Furthermore, what may strike some observers as being a simple quick-and-easy "supermarket" service, where one walks in and "picks something up" is a little more complicated below the surface.
Back in the 1960s, a children's television show was designed to provide accessible educational viewing for young children. It was innovative for its time, because it introduced the idea of providing high quality education through methods used in television advertising. Child psychologists and educators teamed up with television producers and marketing experts. That show was called Sesame Street.
I think there is sometimes a misconception that taking a more "retail" approach to libraries somehow detracts from the educational value of the service, or ignores the "library science" approach to managing libraries. But they don't necessarily have to be opposing, mutually exclusive forces. Libraries have a valuable product and service - all that a retail approach offers is a more effective way of engaging library visitors.
And just as supermarket shelves are organised to be easily navigated, as well as have the most attractive stock displayed in order to sell as much of their product as possible, so too should libraries use similar strategies to provide ease of access to navigate the collections, and provide clear choices for the many visitors who don't necessarily know what they want, and are just browsing (but only have 10 minutes to find a book to borrow).
And at the same time, provide services that have made other businesses become social hubs for their users, whether it be a coffee shop, or gaming machines, or wireless internet, or board games. No, these things aren't going to lead library users to necessarily read more, any more than a coffee shop in Borders will, but it encourages people to interact socially in the library space, which is somewhat at the heart of building communities.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Questions & Answers
There have been some interesting responses to last night's post.
Most of them seem to revolve around the idea that membership of a professional association is about providing benefits to the individual member, and it is a case of deciding whether these benefits are worth the several hundred dollars a year for membership.
Essentially, the question is, "What's in it for me if I join?"
Similarly, as part of a strategy to retain membership and actively respond to the needs of members, ALIA regularly conducts a member's survey. They also address areas of concern to members through hosting a national advisory congress, where members can tell the professional association what they want.
Put simply, the professional association is asking it's professionals, "What do you want us to do for you?"
But here's the thing. A professional association isn't a service provider. It's not a matter of give and take. And it's certainly not a question of "getting your money's worth". I think that anybody who sees professional membership in that way has severely missed the point.
No, the question that's first and foremost in my mind when it comes to joining an association - be it a professional association, or a community group, or a special interest club, is "Who else is active in this association?"
Other questions that arise from there are:
What opportunities will there be for me to actively participate in my association?
How will this professional activity help promote the professional industry?
Will I get to feel like I'm a part of something that's important to the profession, and play an active role in defining its presence in the industry?
What opportunities will I get to work together with other professionals, in achieving our collective goals - as a profession? Not self-serving goals, but rather the principles on which the profession is based - on providing access to information, facilitating its free-flow, building socially-inclusive communities, and promoting lifelong learning.
The answer? The professional association can't do these things for you. But you can do these things through active membership in the professional association.
Of course, I know that not everybody got into librarianship for these reasons. For some people, they thought it would be an easy job in a quiet workplace. But I'm pretty sure that nobody got into this industry for the high-paying salaries. Like other professions, such as teaching or nursing, you gotta do it because you're passionate about it, or you're just going to end up hating your job and wasting your life.
And a professional association, above all, creates the opportunity to form a closeknit professional community across the industry. Maybe the reason I've felt jaded is that it's only been six months since I've moved back to Melbourne, and haven't found the opportunities to fall into a similarly active professional community as I did when I was in Darwin. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place. Maybe my timing is just wrong. But these things can all change.
But hey, I'm here. And I've renewed my membership for my professional association.
Most of them seem to revolve around the idea that membership of a professional association is about providing benefits to the individual member, and it is a case of deciding whether these benefits are worth the several hundred dollars a year for membership.
Essentially, the question is, "What's in it for me if I join?"
Similarly, as part of a strategy to retain membership and actively respond to the needs of members, ALIA regularly conducts a member's survey. They also address areas of concern to members through hosting a national advisory congress, where members can tell the professional association what they want.
Put simply, the professional association is asking it's professionals, "What do you want us to do for you?"
But here's the thing. A professional association isn't a service provider. It's not a matter of give and take. And it's certainly not a question of "getting your money's worth". I think that anybody who sees professional membership in that way has severely missed the point.
No, the question that's first and foremost in my mind when it comes to joining an association - be it a professional association, or a community group, or a special interest club, is "Who else is active in this association?"
Other questions that arise from there are:
What opportunities will there be for me to actively participate in my association?
How will this professional activity help promote the professional industry?
Will I get to feel like I'm a part of something that's important to the profession, and play an active role in defining its presence in the industry?
What opportunities will I get to work together with other professionals, in achieving our collective goals - as a profession? Not self-serving goals, but rather the principles on which the profession is based - on providing access to information, facilitating its free-flow, building socially-inclusive communities, and promoting lifelong learning.
The answer? The professional association can't do these things for you. But you can do these things through active membership in the professional association.
Of course, I know that not everybody got into librarianship for these reasons. For some people, they thought it would be an easy job in a quiet workplace. But I'm pretty sure that nobody got into this industry for the high-paying salaries. Like other professions, such as teaching or nursing, you gotta do it because you're passionate about it, or you're just going to end up hating your job and wasting your life.
And a professional association, above all, creates the opportunity to form a closeknit professional community across the industry. Maybe the reason I've felt jaded is that it's only been six months since I've moved back to Melbourne, and haven't found the opportunities to fall into a similarly active professional community as I did when I was in Darwin. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place. Maybe my timing is just wrong. But these things can all change.
But hey, I'm here. And I've renewed my membership for my professional association.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Crisis of Faith
I haven't renewed my ALIA membership for this year. Not yet, anyway.
I mean, six months earlier, I would have renewed it in a heartbeat, but there are a few things that don't sit quite right with me. In fact, I've been on the verge of letting my membership lapse completely, and resigning from the committees that I'm currently in. I've tried to put it into words as eloquently as possible, but up until now, words have failed me. This is about the third time that I've tried to write a post on it, and hopefully I'll get it right.
There is an idea of what a librarian should be. A Library and Information Professional. Yes, I will use capitals. One who is an expert in the field of information management, as accredited through university study, and through continuing professional development. One who upholds principles that are fundamental to professional practice.
And central to all of this is the Professional Association. The Professional Association dictates the terms in which one becomes accredited and qualified to call themself a member. The Professional Association dictates the overbearing principles of the industry. The Professional Association thus represents its members - The Profession.
In this case, The Profession is Librarianship. The Professional Association is ALIA.
But what happens when a substantial proportion of librarians in the industry aren't members of ALIA?
What happens when ALIA takes a stance that some of its members don't agree with. Are such members being "unprofessional"?
What happens when library employers increasingly see professional accreditation as something that is optional, and other areas of professional specialisation are more valuable, where once upon a time it was the sole realm of the librarian?
What happens when professional conferences showcase innovations and success stories that many libraries will never make a reality?
I think the idea of the Professional Association can a misleading one, as is the idea of The Profession. These ideas imply a certain authority - be it based on academic traditions in library science or just a culture of educated classes maintaining control of cultural collections. And whilst the education is still highly regarded by employers in the recruitment of librarians, it seems that professional membership and professional activity through the Professional Association is not. Is this due to apathy and indifference? A lack of faith in the Professional Association?
And I wonder, what's the point in being active in the Professional Association?
Am I representing the entire new generation of Library Professionals when I sit on the ALIA New Generation Advisory Committee? Does the ALIA New Graduates Group provide the necessary services to newly-graduated members of The Profession?
More importantly, is there a point to it all, when many librarians in the industry aren't members of ALIA, and current membership is dropping?
I believe in the importance of a professional association for librarians.
I believe in the importance of a communal point in the profession, for ideas to come together.
I believe in importance for a body that will advocate for the principles that the profession was built on, and those that the profession has since adopted and will in the future.
I believe in the importance for a professional association that all librarians will want to become members of.
The only problem is - I don't know what they are. The library world is so diverse these days that it's hard to picture a collective vision for the industry as a whole. And it seems misleading to ask members "What do you want from your association?" More importantly should be the question, "What opportunities do you want for you, as a librarian, to contribute to your association?"
And that's pretty much the heart of it - for me, the value in a professional association comes from its active membership. The opportunity to be part of a vibrant professional culture, that is representative of the industry. The opportunities to interact with one's professional peers in sharing ideas, celebrating successes, and collectively tackling challenges. To create professional forums for subverting outdated paradigms and being agents for change in a time where the nature of information has never been more diverse and dynamic.
But I'm not feeling it at the moment. And I know I'm not the only one. There's a feeling in the air that many library professionals - at least New Graduates - aren't as passionate as they used to be. There isn't the same kind of buzz on the e-list as there once was. In some states, there aren't even any New Graduate events. And that's not for a lack of new graduates. Are people less inclined to get professionally active in this day and age? I know that it's a time of Global Financial Crisis, but surely this is one way to get an edge by being professionally aware? Right?
If you're a librarian reading this right now, what would it take for you to offer to help organise an event for your professional association? Or even attend one? Or are the naysayers right after all, and most librarians couldn't care less about their association, as long as they have a job.
---
But back to my initial dilemma - to renew or not to renew. Yes, it's quite a bit of money. And no, there aren't enough events on in the next 12 months through which I can hope to get my membership's worth through discounts (always an incentive).
However, if I leave the Professional Association, I'll just be another seemingly apathetic librarian, and I refuse to believe that there aren't enough other librarians out there who want to get active and collaborate, and get that buzz happening again.
Is anybody with me?
I mean, six months earlier, I would have renewed it in a heartbeat, but there are a few things that don't sit quite right with me. In fact, I've been on the verge of letting my membership lapse completely, and resigning from the committees that I'm currently in. I've tried to put it into words as eloquently as possible, but up until now, words have failed me. This is about the third time that I've tried to write a post on it, and hopefully I'll get it right.
There is an idea of what a librarian should be. A Library and Information Professional. Yes, I will use capitals. One who is an expert in the field of information management, as accredited through university study, and through continuing professional development. One who upholds principles that are fundamental to professional practice.
And central to all of this is the Professional Association. The Professional Association dictates the terms in which one becomes accredited and qualified to call themself a member. The Professional Association dictates the overbearing principles of the industry. The Professional Association thus represents its members - The Profession.
In this case, The Profession is Librarianship. The Professional Association is ALIA.
But what happens when a substantial proportion of librarians in the industry aren't members of ALIA?
What happens when ALIA takes a stance that some of its members don't agree with. Are such members being "unprofessional"?
What happens when library employers increasingly see professional accreditation as something that is optional, and other areas of professional specialisation are more valuable, where once upon a time it was the sole realm of the librarian?
What happens when professional conferences showcase innovations and success stories that many libraries will never make a reality?
I think the idea of the Professional Association can a misleading one, as is the idea of The Profession. These ideas imply a certain authority - be it based on academic traditions in library science or just a culture of educated classes maintaining control of cultural collections. And whilst the education is still highly regarded by employers in the recruitment of librarians, it seems that professional membership and professional activity through the Professional Association is not. Is this due to apathy and indifference? A lack of faith in the Professional Association?
And I wonder, what's the point in being active in the Professional Association?
Am I representing the entire new generation of Library Professionals when I sit on the ALIA New Generation Advisory Committee? Does the ALIA New Graduates Group provide the necessary services to newly-graduated members of The Profession?
More importantly, is there a point to it all, when many librarians in the industry aren't members of ALIA, and current membership is dropping?
I believe in the importance of a professional association for librarians.
I believe in the importance of a communal point in the profession, for ideas to come together.
I believe in importance for a body that will advocate for the principles that the profession was built on, and those that the profession has since adopted and will in the future.
I believe in the importance for a professional association that all librarians will want to become members of.
The only problem is - I don't know what they are. The library world is so diverse these days that it's hard to picture a collective vision for the industry as a whole. And it seems misleading to ask members "What do you want from your association?" More importantly should be the question, "What opportunities do you want for you, as a librarian, to contribute to your association?"
And that's pretty much the heart of it - for me, the value in a professional association comes from its active membership. The opportunity to be part of a vibrant professional culture, that is representative of the industry. The opportunities to interact with one's professional peers in sharing ideas, celebrating successes, and collectively tackling challenges. To create professional forums for subverting outdated paradigms and being agents for change in a time where the nature of information has never been more diverse and dynamic.
But I'm not feeling it at the moment. And I know I'm not the only one. There's a feeling in the air that many library professionals - at least New Graduates - aren't as passionate as they used to be. There isn't the same kind of buzz on the e-list as there once was. In some states, there aren't even any New Graduate events. And that's not for a lack of new graduates. Are people less inclined to get professionally active in this day and age? I know that it's a time of Global Financial Crisis, but surely this is one way to get an edge by being professionally aware? Right?
If you're a librarian reading this right now, what would it take for you to offer to help organise an event for your professional association? Or even attend one? Or are the naysayers right after all, and most librarians couldn't care less about their association, as long as they have a job.
---
But back to my initial dilemma - to renew or not to renew. Yes, it's quite a bit of money. And no, there aren't enough events on in the next 12 months through which I can hope to get my membership's worth through discounts (always an incentive).
However, if I leave the Professional Association, I'll just be another seemingly apathetic librarian, and I refuse to believe that there aren't enough other librarians out there who want to get active and collaborate, and get that buzz happening again.
Is anybody with me?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Professional anniversary navel-gazing...
So over the last couple of weeks, there have been a few things that I've wanted to blog about, but haven't done so because (a) I seem to have found myself working full-time hours at the moment, and (b) my other non-sleeping hours have been spent seeing a few things at the Melbourne Fringe Festival.
The first of these things I wanted to blog about was the occurrence of the ALIA National Advisory Congress, which focused, this year, on issues of advocacy and lobbying. However, that's going to be a long post in itself, and I haven't quite gathered my thoughts on the topic. Stay tuned.
Meanwhile, last week, I reached a personal milestone - three years since I started working as a librarian. Quickly reflecting on where I was this time over the past three years:
October 2006 - I started my first professional position as a liaison librarian at Charles Darwin University.
October 2007 - I started working as a part-time branch manager in a small public library in Darwin
October 2008 - I'm working as a librarian at the Northern Territory Library, providing reference and research services, as well as parliamentary support.
And now?
Well, I tell people that I'm "freelance" at the moment, which might sound like a wanky way of saying that I don't have a permanent job. However, over the last six months, I've been working in a number of non-librarian positions (whilst being a relief librarian on weekends) and am learning new skills and gaining new experience that I would never have achieved if I'd stayed strictly in a librarian role. I'm now living in Australia's City of Literature - Melbourne - and building strong professional networks in areas of the industry that I want forge my career for the long-term. And, most importantly, I know now, more than ever, what I want to do with my career. And whilst I don't currently have long term employment security, I'm feeling far more secure, professionally, than ever.
And central to this is moving away from the misconception that career planning is about working out which employed position you want to be in, say, in two years time, five years time, and ten years time (ie. "I want to be a HEW 7 in two years, a team leader in five years, and a director in ten.")
Instead, we should be asking ourselves questions like what skills we will have, which organisations and key players we will have formed relationships with, what kind of technological expertise we will have adopted, what areas of specialisation we will become authorities on, whom we will become advocates for, which communities we will be serving, and so on.
And if that means holding off permanent employment until the right job comes along, then so be it.
The first of these things I wanted to blog about was the occurrence of the ALIA National Advisory Congress, which focused, this year, on issues of advocacy and lobbying. However, that's going to be a long post in itself, and I haven't quite gathered my thoughts on the topic. Stay tuned.
Meanwhile, last week, I reached a personal milestone - three years since I started working as a librarian. Quickly reflecting on where I was this time over the past three years:
October 2006 - I started my first professional position as a liaison librarian at Charles Darwin University.
October 2007 - I started working as a part-time branch manager in a small public library in Darwin
October 2008 - I'm working as a librarian at the Northern Territory Library, providing reference and research services, as well as parliamentary support.
And now?
Well, I tell people that I'm "freelance" at the moment, which might sound like a wanky way of saying that I don't have a permanent job. However, over the last six months, I've been working in a number of non-librarian positions (whilst being a relief librarian on weekends) and am learning new skills and gaining new experience that I would never have achieved if I'd stayed strictly in a librarian role. I'm now living in Australia's City of Literature - Melbourne - and building strong professional networks in areas of the industry that I want forge my career for the long-term. And, most importantly, I know now, more than ever, what I want to do with my career. And whilst I don't currently have long term employment security, I'm feeling far more secure, professionally, than ever.
And central to this is moving away from the misconception that career planning is about working out which employed position you want to be in, say, in two years time, five years time, and ten years time (ie. "I want to be a HEW 7 in two years, a team leader in five years, and a director in ten.")
Instead, we should be asking ourselves questions like what skills we will have, which organisations and key players we will have formed relationships with, what kind of technological expertise we will have adopted, what areas of specialisation we will become authorities on, whom we will become advocates for, which communities we will be serving, and so on.
And if that means holding off permanent employment until the right job comes along, then so be it.
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