Insert Title Here.

I'm currently up a little too late, considering that it's a school night. Now, on any other night in the past 13 years, this turn of phrase would generally indicate that tomorrow is a weekday, on which I need to get up around the time that the sun does.

Which I do.

However, tomorrow morning, I commence my new job as a library manager in a Melbourne inner-suburb high school. This is an extremely exciting step for me, as it's the kind of work that I've been moving towards since I started working as a librarian. Not that the work is a huge deviation from my previous experience - I've established my range of skills working with teenagers, focusing my knowledge on middle reader and young adult literature, managing a branch library team, running information literacy sessions, developing collections and promoting reader development in the library. This role incorporates my strongest skills and passions in the profession, and I have a good feeling that it's going to be awesome.

Of course, whilst the nature of my work will be familiar, and the needs of my clients will be familiar, there is one new factor - the environment. School. For the last month and a half, I've been focusing my professional reading on school libraries, and teacher-librarianship. I've been chatting to colleagues and associates who have been working in schools. And one thing that has struck me is that the nature of school libraries seems quite diverse. Which is unsurprising, considering that they are insular environments, with differing contributing factors, such as funding, staffing, student demographics, technological focus, etc. I've asked appropriate questions in my job interview, and had a tour of the library after being offered the position, but I'm not going to know the real nature of the environment until I've been performing the role for a period of time. This both scares and excites me.

Nevertheless, I'm very pleased to be able to once again call myself a Library Manager.

Speaking of titles, there's been some buzz around the biblioblogosphere about the AASL's recent vote to adopt the official title "School Librarian" for library professionals working in schools. It seems that the previous official title was "School Library Media Specialist", which whilst accurate in its description is not hugely evocative. There was also a move to return to the good old "Teacher Librarian", except that it doesn't address what to call the other library professionals in schools who don't teach. Would they be "Non-teacher librarian"? "School Librarian" is an all-encapsulating title that describes the environment (School) and the fact that they are an accredited professional (Librarian), both of which are evocative brands. Some feel it more appropriate to address the focus of media technology as a primary part of the librarian role, but, as always, I feel that we need to upgrade the Librarian brand by excelling in our roles, rather than giving ourselves new pretentious corporate titles, that leave people wondering what exactly it is that we do.

So, whilst the official title of my new role is "Library Manager", I am quite proud to be able to call myself a School Librarian.

Hi-fi sci-fi library...

Speaking of visiting libraries whilst on holidays - a few weeks ago, whilst in transit from Melbourne to Adelaide, my friend (and fellow librarian) Katie and I stumbled upon the Mt Gambier Library. In fact, it was almost by accident - we were just looking for an ATM. And there it was across the road:



The first thing we saw, as we entered, was the cafe, which is in the actual library - the security gates are on the entrance to the cafe. Furthermore, some magazines are on display *in* the cafe for patrons to browse with their cup of coffee.



The teen area was extremely attractive, with impressively sci-fi (if a little uncomfortable) chairs, as well as gaming stations installed into walls, and couches with widescreen television. In addition were ample display areas for books, magazines and graphic novels. The perfect place to hang out and socialise.



The adult areas were also suitably engaging, with large community rooms and computer labs suited for large groups and community learning sessions. However, the real gem to this library was the children's area... designed to emulate a pond/river ecosystem, the light was dimmed, with mud-like surfaces, secluded cave areas as reading "nooks", alcoves in the walls for book displays, green reeds, and a dappled lighting effect in the ceilings. There were computer terminals at perfect height for children to use - set on small tables. A self checkout station where a frog processes your loans through the magic of RFID. Also impressive - and something I hadn't seen before - were areas designed specifically for breastfeeding. And, of course, a giant frog chair for the purposes of storytime. I couldn't help myself...



Such an amazing library. Of course, my instant reaction was "how can a regional public library afford this???". But from looking around, it was obvious through its branding - all of the areas acknowledge sponsorship and support from local businesses and industry. This library is an excellent example of public libraries creating partnerships in the community, and using those strong relations to value-add to their services. Everybody wins.

City librarians - pay good attention to this library. In fact, get in a car, and make the three-hour drive across to Mount Gambier. It's completely worth it, and you'll see *exactly* how to build a top-quality library for the 21st century.

More photos from our visit can be found here.

January 27th...

Is when it all happens.

- I commence a new job as a library manager in a school library.
- I enrol into a new course, meaning that many of my evenings henceforth will be spent in class for the next four years.
- Apple will be making a very special announcement, which many are tipping to be the launch of the much-anticipated tablet device.

I'm currently on a bit of a holiday, and sitting in the main reading room at the National Library of Australia. It looks hot outside, but I think I'm going to brave the elements, and hope that the queue to see the Musee D'Orsay exhibition at the NGA isn't too long. Wish me luck...

Climb ev'ry mountain...

So, Seth Godin has recently shared his two cents' worth about the future of libraries.

Firstly, I want to skip to the end, and say that, yes, libraries should spend money on developing leaders, teachers - nay, sherpas - to guide those in the library community to climb the mountains of digital media, and conquer the peaks of information literacy, in order to maintain community connectivity with information. Which is pretty much what librarians already do. If you're not doing that, then you're not doing it properly.

But what worries me are the earlier statements:

1. That libraries cannot survive simply as community-funded repositories for books. Last time I checked, book circulation statistics at my library were thriving, with no sign of decline.

2. That the number one thing [libraries] deliver to their patrons are free DVD rentals. See above comment regarding book circulation. Furthermore, these collections are enriched through incorporating community-oriented programs in the library.

3. The net turns things upside down. The information is free. Depends on your definition of free. It's free if you have access to a computer. It's free if it's not locked behind an online subscription, or only published in print media. It's free if you actually have the skills and knowledge to access the information online. But do you know what *does* make these things free - a library.

It concerns me greatly that somebody such as Godin would be making these statements, along with his accompanying advice to train people to take the intellectual initiative, as he puts it. It says a lot about the current state of libraries, if the opinion is that librarians do not currently do this.

And, finally, first thing last - his question.

What should libraries do to become relevant in the digital age?

Well, who says that they're not?

2010 - the year of e-readers (or why print media is here to stay)

There has been a substantial reflection in recent months about the "future of books". Two pieces that have caught my attention, and worthy of consideration are John Green's essay The Future of Books, writen for the School Library Journal, and Corey Doctorow's How to destroy the book.

Both are excellent reads, and whilst this post is somewhat inspired by them, I'm going to digress straight away. I want to briefly discuss what seems to be a false dichotomy between bibliophiles and tech-lovers.

From these articles, and many others, there is a very conscious sense that this year is going to be a big year for e-readers. Australia will see the introduction of the Kindle as a common accessory, and we're all anxiously awaiting the Apple's "iSlate" portable netbook/tablet/e-reader, not to mention other competitors with e-reader capabilities. Similarly, in libraries, we're seeing a growth of periodicals and academic texts becoming available online, with many libraries considering the removal of their print collections if they are available through online subscriptions.

And here's the thing. I absolutely love the fact that if I want to, I will be able to download a new release book into my device, and have that immediate satisfaction of being able to start reading it in a lightweight device. I could happily lie in bed and read a book on an e-reader, the same way that I read a book. After all, I do most of my recreational online reading that way.

But here's the catch. I like to own my favourite books, and have them on a shelf for my own re-reading purposes. But moreso, my personal shelf collection is a part of my life. Whenever I need inspiration, cheering up, profound reflection on life, or the beauty of poetry, I can go straight up, gaze over the titles, pick one out, and flick through them. My collection is part of my personality, and the visual stimulus of physical books on a shelf is a necessary part of my natural habitat. It's my home.

Furthermore, I like to share. If somebody comes over to my house, and expresses an interest in one of my books, I'll take it off, and thrust it upon them, saying "Here! Read it, and then come back and tell me what you thought about it." For me, the mutual love, or hatred, or impassioned disagreement over books are what defines much of my relationship with people.

And, of course, this is all legal, because I paid to own the book. I can read it, and then give it to a friend to read, and so on. In the same way, libraries pay for books, so that they can be shared with a vast amount of the community. And then, once they start falling apart, or are no longer en vogue, then can be sold off in a second-hand book sale, and somebody can have the pleasure of owning a book that has been physically enjoyed by countless of other people in the community.

Basically, the real value in a physical book is that it can be shared. This is how it's been for centuries, even before the printing press was born. The book is an entity in itself, which can be kept, borrowed and/or re-sold.

And as a librarian, it's wonderful to be able to sing the praises of a book, and to be able to share the pleasure of reading with library patrons, and then place a copy of the book in somebody's hand, ready for them to check out and walk away. It's not quite the same to say "This book is great, and you can download it for $X from amazon or various other sites, depending on the brand of e-reader you own, if in fact you do own an e-reader, and no you won't be able to give it to anybody else, but you can recommend that they buy an e-book the same way."

Because, as Doctorow points out, it's not the same with an e-reader. When you download an e-book, you don't own it. You own a licence to read it, in the same way that you would own a licence to use a piece of computer software. But you may not share it. Unless, of course, you physically give your e-reader to a friend to borrow, so that they can read it that way. You don't own the book - you own the right to view the contents of the book on your device, but that's all.

And it's in this respect, that I honestly do not believe that the e-reader will "replace" the book, any more than pay-per-view film has replaced DVDs. I use iView (for example) to watch TV and films from ABC, but I also buy films and TV shows on DVD that I can share with other people.

Furthermore, the physical existence of a book is fundamental for it survival. You see books on display in bookstores, in libraries, on bookshelves and, most of all, in the streets - being read by people. The prominent titles and author's names, emblazoned on the front, as the hottest accessory of a reader passing the time on a 20-minute train trip. It's a conversation starter, when meeting somebody for a coffee and they notice it in your bag. Simply put - books sell themselves by being in the limelight, and they enrich our lives by being present and in the public eye. Again, it's about sharing the joy of reading in our community, and enriching the community simply by being present.

And, again, I will doubtlessly have my own portable e-reader in tow, as a solitary reading device. But I will never underestimate the power of the physical book in building communities, friendships, and fostering a love of literature and culture in the world.

E-readers will be valuable in facilitating ease of access and portability of a story. However, a good story is infinitely more valuable if it can be shared.

Melbourne Flashmob (TM)

I just had the experience of witnessing the Melbourne Flashmob, which was not-so-secretly held at Bourke St Mall this morning at 11am.

Firstly, I feel it necessary to say that it was an impressive dance performance, especially subscribing to that kind of grass-roots community arts ethos that allows anybody to come aboard and join in on a large-scale choreographed dance routine in a public performance. I would encourage those who were involved to continue to pursue performing in similar artistic ventures in the community. It was fun, diverse, and embodied community spirit. Well done.

HOWEVER

When one thinks of a flashmob, one thinks of performance art as civil disobedience albeit apolitical. One thinks of performance art that challenges social norms of acceptable public behaviour. What's more, it's coordinated by "the people", and not endorsed by government organisations. It's spread through word of mouth, or through obscure online channels. It's seemingly spontaneous, with the majority of audience members being unsuspecting "innocent" bystanders, and should disappear as suddenly as it appeared, as though nothing had just happened, leaving an air of WTF? in its wake. I'm talking hundreds of people freezing on the spot in Antwerp Station. Or dozens of extra customer service assistants appearing in a homewares store and assisting customers with their choices. Or something as simple as 70 people appearing at Flinders St Station during peak hour pedestrian traffic, producing yellow rubber gloves, and pointing at the sky.

This is not a flashmob:
- Close to a thousand people crowded into Bourke St Mall - at least a quarter of whom had cameras at the ready. Not exactly your 11am crowd in the city.
- Official-looking tram people walking around with walky-talkies, getting ready to stop trams for the event.
- Hundreds of people rushing into a confined - and what looked like a very organised and set-out performance area.
- An audience of hundreds of people who seemed to know what was about to happen.
- And finally, the icing on the cake - an announcement over the PA, to the tune of "YOU HAVE JUST BEEN WATCHING THE OFFICIAL MELBOURNE FLASHMOB DANCERS, BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE CITY OF MELBOURNE AS PART OF THE SUMMER OF FUN PROGRAM. YOU TOO CAN LEARN TO DANCE LIKE THIS - GO TO WWW.blahblahblah... etc.

And, again, I hate to curb the enthusiasm of those who performed. As a well-produced large-scale public performance, it really was a wonderful. The only thing that really REALLY upset me was that it called itself a flashmob. FLASHMOBS AREN'T COORDINATED BY GOVERNMENT AGENCIES. FULL STOP. Perhaps I'm being too precious, having been involved in one in the past. Perhaps it's my dismay at witnessing a self-proclaimed flashmob that's devoid of artistic subversiveness or civil disobedience.

What upsets me the most? The thought of all the council bureacracy involved in staging this event. All the red tape, rubber stamps and authorisations needed, and presumably getting permission from the state government to delay public transport traffic. Anybody who's worked in government agencies can imagine the number of meetings and proposals that went into organising this "flashmob". And you can bet that one of the conditions for the performance was to have a very official and commercial announcement at the end, incorporating the council's branding... I almost expected an acknowledgement of corporate sponsors.

It just doesn't seem right.

Information Literacy, Social Networking and Facebook Suicide

Imagine if you were asked to enter all of your personal details onto a website, including name, date of birth, country and city of residence, place of employment, hobbies, personal interests, spouses, partners and children, political and religious affiliations, professional associations, special interests. To that, you can add events that you are attending from day to day, travel itineraries, and photos of your social and professional life.

Of course, there are plenty of security settings available, so that you can customise the level of access through which other people can access your personal details. Naturally, you would want to ensure that you had full control over the level of privacy for your online presence. And you would want to take measures to make sure that you understood exactly what personal details people can and can't access. That only makes sense, especially with the occurrence of identity theft happening these days.

And before I go further - yes, I'm talking about Facebook.

Of course, the other way of controlling the amount of details that you make available online is to simply limit the amount of personal information that you put onto Facebook. However, social networking is more effective when you have a more complete online profile. So, what you ideally want is to put a lot of your personal details online, and then customise your security settings.

Now, how do you know how secure your details are? There's one simple way - firstly log out of facebook, then do a search on yourself. Next - find somebody who you're not yet "facebook friends" with, and then see how much information they can find on you. Then, find a "facebook friend" and do the same. There are other levels of association, like network members, but you get the idea. If all else fails, create dummy facebook accounts, and test the security of your personal details.

Okay, this all sounds a little convoluted and far-fetched, but my point is this - how aware are you of your online presence? It's naturally understandable to be wary of who you give your personal details to, and you have two choices - withhold the information, or make sure you understand how security settings work on social networking sites. Nowadays, Facebook is an extremely highly-trusted brand, with hundreds of millions of users, but the onus is still on the user to set their level of online security.

Furthermore, this should be an integral part of information literacy training when it comes to social networking. Just as it's important to show students and members of the community how to interact socially and build networks online, it's equally as important to highlight the "stranger danger" principles, and maintain awareness of what information you are providing to whom. It needs to be drummed into everybody, young and old, that whilst creating online content is instantaneous and easy, you need to be smart about the way you do it. A little while ago, Danah Boyd spoke on the importance of being present in kids' lives online, and the scopes for teachers and librarians to provide guidance to students through online social media, in the same way that they would in a classroom or a schoolyard. I really like this idea, and if a student is having issues maintaining privacy or decorum in their online presence, then it would be prudent for a teacher or librarian to be able to interact with them and guide them on how to adjust their privacy settings (even if it means getting themselves filtered out!!).

Anyway, let's say that things have gotten a little out of hand. You've gone a little bit Web 2.0 crazy, and put yourself out there a little too much. Now you're paranoid about your girlfriend/wife seeing photos of you out at the pub last week when you said that you were working late, or worried that your boss will find out about your tweets where you constantly slag off your co-workers. Let's also assume that you haven't really given much thought to the level of security that you've set, and don't really understand it.

Or, even worse, you don't possess enough self-control to limit the amount of time you spend online with social networking sites.

Enter the Web 2.0 Suicide Machine. Basically, here's how it works. You hand over your login details to the organisation. They change your password so that you can't change your mind. And then, apparently, you watch as the program deletes your details.

Now, what was that I was saying before about being careful about who you give your details to?

And yet, here is an organisation that asks you to effectively hand it over to them. What do you know about them? Can you trust them with unlimited access to a complete profile of your personal details, and then allow them to change your password so that you can't access it anymore.

Which brings me to my point, and I will use bold capitals:

IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO DELETE YOUR FACEBOOK ACCOUNT, THEN YOU SHOULD FIND OUT. IT'S ACTUALLY VERY SIMPLE.

I don't mean to sound patronising - as a librarian, I'm aware that there can be limitations in people's experience with technology, and sometimes it takes a while to learn.

But IMHO, using software like the Web 2.0 Suicide Machine is about as stupid as giving your bank details to Nigerians. It's a cute concept, with a nice flashy video, but it's misleading and, frankly, encourages people to turn their back on social software, rather than learn to use it effectively and sensibly. It's a bit like telling people to throw away their mobile phone, because you spend too much time having trivial phone calls, rather than learning to exercise self-control.

Furthermore, there's the information literacy issue of being able to evaluate online media, and learn to distinguish between authoritative and trusted sources, and unreliable ones. Just as a student should learn to be able to identify news sources, opinion sources, government sources, educational sources, commercial sources - so too should they learn to know when NOT TO GIVE PERSONAL DETAILS TO COMPLETE STRANGERS.

Unsurprisingly, reports have now come in that Facebook has been blocking access to the Web 2.0 Suicide Machine. Now, of course, it's in their interests to suppress media that encourages people to turn away from facebook, but they also make a very legitimate point - you should not be allowing another person - especially not a complete stranger - to access all your personal details, and go through each section one-by-one. Even if it is for the purpose of deleting them, they are, at the same time, accessing ALL of your personal details.

I think I've made my point.

Finally, if you really want to commit Facebook Suicide (as opposed to simply deactivating your account) then it's very easy. I've done it myself. Just use this link and hit submit. Of course, there's a cooling off period. If you don't trust yourself to not change your mind, find a trusted friend to assist in your suicide. Get them to change your password, and then go to the above link. It's safer, and probably a lot quicker.

It's interesting - the question has recently been posed: "Information literacy and web 2.0: a paradox?" as one of the conference streams in the upcoming ALIA Access 2010 event. In an online environment where one's presence is becoming increasingly customisable, information literacy is arguably more vital than ever, in ensuring that people know exactly what they're doing when they create online content with personal information.