Megan Kudzia

Hello out there, world! I'm up to my eyeballs in library projects right now (getting our brand-new discovery tool up and running, trying to start a library book club, etc.) but I'm feeling really optimistic about the new year. One of my resolutions for this year is to start posting here once a week, so here goes! I will be working on an exciting, hot-library-topic-type post for next week!

Hope your year is starting off right :)

I was reading this article this morning, in the Chronicle of Higher Ed, by Nels Highberg, and this portion of text really stood out to me:
"many students do get out of high school never having written an essay that involves research or working with sources.  This is happening more and more because of the state-mandated tests students have to take to earn a high school diploma.  These tests usually do not require that students cite anything, so teachers who have their salaries or continued employment tied to the test scores of their students do often focus on teaching for the test."

Exactly.
This runs along the same lines as what I've long thought about how we treat students: if we have something we explicitly want, we have to tell them what it is very explicitly, too.

For instance, in my English 101 class, I want my students to find and cite some sources for their argument papers. I also want them to choose good sources. So I'm asking them to turn in a set of sources and to have chosen the best ones for their paper from among those.

If we want students to learn how to cite research in high school we need to make sure the teachers have an incentive to teach that. If my livelihood depends on x, I'm not going to spend the time my boss pays me for working on y. It's that simple.

I've been reading the blog Hack Library School lately--I feel out of the loop admitting this, but I only just discovered it. Boy I wish I had known about this when I was doing my MLIS. It would have been nice to have reassuring voices from outside my own school that both library school and the library profession were indeed different and more complex than I had originally imagined.

Anyway. I love this blog. If you are a person in library school, a person who works in libraries, or a person thinking of doing either, you should definitely check it out.

I was reading the most recent post, on Language in the Stacks, and I think it's really interesting how explicitly "customer" and "user" as terms for those who benefit from library services are linked with political theory for the author, Zachary Frazier. Maybe it's a sign of my own political assumptions, but I have a bone to pick with his argument. He effectively states that calling people who use libraries "customers" or "users" instead of "patrons" un-links them from the idea that library services are inherently valuable. As he states:

Patron reifies the idea that even where we can measure those services, no dollar amount can be assigned to them. Within patron’s framework, as knowledge is valued so too must the library be valued. Patron is directly linked to that concept.

However, I am not sure whether I agree that "Our greatest strengths lay in our intangible value." His argument, in a nutshell, is that since an important part of library service involves organizing and preserving material not just for a year from now, or for five years from now, but indefinitely. Since it is difficult to put a monetary amount to the value of that benefit to society, reducing libraries to the monetary value of their services is a) impossible, b) reductionist, and c) ultimately damaging to libraries.

I'm not sure...I absolutely do think language matters (I'm currently moonlighting as an English 101 instructor, after all), but I'm not totally convinced by either of the arms of his argument. I am not sure that using some word other than patron will be deeply problematic for libraries (I don't happen to like "customer," either, but I love "member"), and I'm not sure that totally divorcing ourselves from the world of profit is the way to go at this point.

I guess I would counter his argument, respectfully, by challenging him that perhaps what we need to do a better job doing is reminding ourselves and others that it is impossible to put a monetary value on what we do as stewards of knowledge for the future. Therefore, yes, we will be open if you'd like to check out the newest Patterson bestseller. Yes, we will have Guitar Hero championships. Yes, we'll provide computer classes or resume workshops to the community. And, yes, we will preserve materials, in digital or analog formats, so that the future can benefit from today's knowledge. And aside from museums, private collectors, and archives, no one else is doing that.

What do you think?

I think this pretty much says it all:

http://liblogs.albany.edu/library20/2006/11/a_librarians_20_manifesto.html

My favorite parts?
-I will not be defensive about my library, but will look clearly at its situation and make an honest assessment about what can be accomplished.
-I will avoid requiring users to see things in librarians' terms but rather will shape services to reflect users' preferences and expectations.

Ok, friends out there. Anyone had a bad experience in a library with a librarian or a library website? Tell me about it. Us librarians need to know what needs fixing.

Again with the upheaval. Here's what's been going on since last I posted:

--I've spent almost a full semester at the SC4 library, and I'm about to start another. I'm excited to see what happens when we start using clickers and the new handout I (mostly) designed for the English 101 classes!
--At SC4 we're about to find out who our permanent director will be going forward, so that has potential to be a new thing to adapt to as well.
--I've picked up a few shifts at Sterling Heights and I'm starting to feel comfortable as a substitute librarian as well.
--On a personal note, I had a wonderful if weird Christmas this year. It was great to get to spend time with my family, even if we were all sort of running around like crazy people. We all had a different schedule this year, so it was sort of a staggered Christmas.
--I moved to where my new job is in Port Huron, MI. This has proven to be a really good move for my sanity (no more hour-and-some commute each way daily!), and it has given me more time to devote to thinking about my future, writing, reading, and learning. However. I didn't get internet in my apartment until a few weeks ago, and I don't really have enough time at work to publish, so I haven't been doing so. I'm excited to be back in the saddle again!

So, some library things I've been thinking about. I was reading in Library Journal's Corner Office column about a month and a half ago (I know, internet ancient history) an interview with Deborah Jacobs from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. I would like to begin by saying how much I admire this woman and think I'd love to have lunch with her. Then I would like to quote her as she succinctly lays out the (evidently universal) problems facing libraries and librarians:

"Number one, we're an aging profession. Number two, our library schools aren't necessarily teaching us the skills we need to be modern librarians. Number three, most of us weren't trained to do the jobs we're doing now. Number four, the young people who are going to library schools are often getting hired by industry, where they can be paid more. Number five, librarians don't know how to advocate. Number six, we've got a whole new way of providing service that we don't have the funding for. Number seven, our funding is not sufficient. Number eight, people don't know why we're relevant in the days of the internet."

First of all, wow. I remember being stunned the first time I read that that there was someone out there who was able to clearly state the problems we're having in the profession. As someone who's a new librarian, I feel that I often struggle to articulate these things in a comprehensive way. I can talk around them, but I can't clearly articulate them in conversation, not to mention in an interview!

Second, I feel that on the blogosphere and in the library community, we've discussed these problems individually, sometimes even together, and most of the important stuff about them has been said. So I won't rehash others' arguments.

I have a slight beef with one of her premises, though. I understand that librarians seem to have difficulty advocating for themselves and their libraries. I accept the premise because I think it's pretty clear that if we were making a better case for our value we wouldn't get people saying to our faces, "but are there really going to be any jobs for librarians? I mean, I just Google stuff..."

But here's where I have an issue. I believe there are librarians out there--particularly young librarians recently out of college, or librarians who are parents--who can advocate effectively for libraries. Here's why: many of us had to advocate in college (or, if you're parents, you advocate for your children's stuff). Other recently minted librarians and librarian parents out there, anyone want to weigh in? How many of you were involved in at least one club/fraternity/sorority/music ensemble/performance group/student publication in college? How many of you have sold Girl Scout cookies/band candy/calendars/wrapping paper and so on to colleagues, relatives and friends?

Focusing now on college, because that's what I know best, how many of you had to sell that activity to your classmates? Who else chalked the quad at 2 am to try and get people to come to your event? Sent out Facebook invites? Wore t-shirts for the week before a show? Sat at a ticket table and harrassed/cajoled/shout-outed your friends into attending a lecture sponsored by your group? Talked up how great that fundraising party or spaghetti dinner was going to be to all your friends and your friends' friends? How many of you reminded all your classes to come to the open house you were throwing, because all the cool kids are going to be there?

Ok. If you have ever done any of those things, or if you've ever been a parent trying to fundraise for your child's school, team, or event, you can advocate. Period. And I bet a lot more of us have done this than we realized. And here's the thing. Chalk art and ticket tables are obviously less effective outside of an area-controlled environment. But a lot of these methods for communicating a message still apply. Wear the same t-shirt every day for a week, and make sure people at the grocery store see you wearing it. Talk to people about how cool your event is going to be.

Seriously--have no shame. When you're in line at McDonald's, ask people if they've heard about the event your library is doing, tell them you're a librarian there, and that you'd love to see them. Talk to your friends especially. They're your friends--they're the most likely to forgive you for any excesses of enthusiasm. Tell the guy who changes your oil that all the cool kids are going to be at the library for the new nonfiction bookclub they're starting. Try to find a way to get advertising into the local shops and businesses, just like the kids doing the high school plays. They do that because it works.

I'm not sure if it's because we're being shy, or we think our advocacy somehow has to be instantly earth-shattering in it's awesomeness and we think we'll fall short, or if we think these methods won't work anymore, or what. But they do. I've seen it happen. You have to create a hype if you want to sell out a show, and I know it can be done. We've got to be brave enough to risk what may come if we want to sell the library to the public, but I think we can do it.

As usual, I am open to disagreements, qualifications, and so on. What do you out there think?

Well, it's been a long time.

So much has happened since my last blog post. I have fallen woefully behind in my blogging (obviously), my professional reading, my social-media-ing, and lots of other things. So that's the bad news.

The good news is it's because I got a job! Actually, three jobs! Not all at once, though...

Here's the breakdown. In mid-July I started working for a company called SENICA, which provides court-mandated education to people who have been sentenced to take it. They do everything from basic traffic school to retail theft classes, alcohol and drug education, anger management, and long-term domestic violence classes. I worked in the office scheduling people for their classes, helping them work out payment arrangements, and coordinating with the instructors and probation officers to make sure everything went smoothly. It's a really cool company, but I was still looking for a library job, and in late August I interviewed at St. Clair County Community College (henceforth SC4, as everyone there calls it).

SC4 had a position for a part-time (Adjunct) reference and instruction librarian. Just what I was looking for! Working with lower-level undergraduates--freshmen and sophomores, not juniors and seniors--doing information literacy instruction, reference, and lots of hands-on work with the students most likely to need help. In addition to making the switch from a high school or public library to an academic library, many of SC4's students are returning students who may not have been in school for a while and may find the whole experience very intimidating. The kind of students who are especially in need of a friendly face and a helpful presence at the desk (or roaming around as I hope to start doing).

Long story short, they offered me the job and I accepted! I started in September and I'm starting to feel like I've got my legs under me now. While this was all happening, I applied and was accepted as a substitute librarian at the Sterling Heights Public Library, so now when one of their reference librarians is ill or can't make it in to work, I'm on the list of people to call! So that's very exciting.

All this upheaval (and going from not working at all in July to working 40 hours a week) hasn't left me much time for the internet. Sad story. Now that my hours have backed down a little, I hope to be able to spend more time doing my professional reading and getting my online presence up and running again.

In the meantime, if there are any community college librarians (or students) out there, any suggestions as to what I ought to suggest implementing? I've been suggesting things left and right but if there's something important I don't want to miss my new-person window in which to do it.

I just read this post by Gretchen Rubin, author of the book and the blog The Happiness Project. It really resonated with me. Gretchen talks about realizing--through watching the film Sex and the City 2, and through an interaction with her daughter--that sometimes silence is better than talking. The context for this is usually when another person is troubled. Sometimes, it's better to listen quietly, without offering advice or suggestions.

This was a really important reminder to me. Like Gretchen, I am a talker. I am also a fixer--one of those people we are warned about who need strict instructions not to offer assistance before we start venting. The worst part is that I know I am a talker and I know I am a fixer and when confronted with another person's problem I find it nearly impossible not to try to help anyway. Sometimes it is clear that what the person in front of me needs most is an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean or cry on. Sometimes I can recognize a venting session and realize that my friend just needs to blow off steam. And yet the impulse to try and fix their problem is almost overpowering.

I would like to believe that this problem is born of my desire to help people. I like to help people in the grocery store, I like to help people at the reference desk, I like to help people in class...you get the idea. I think this is why I love being a teaching librarian--to me, teaching and helping are similar activities. I like to think that by showing someone how to do something, I am fixing their potential future difficulties. So it's sort of a natural thing for me. After all, give a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day--light a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life :)

But what I really need to work on are those instances in which I know a fix is not required from me, or desired, at least not this minute. The times when I know quiet listening is needed. Because, as I said, even then sometimes the urge to offer a solution is so strong that it takes all my self-control to not try to give one. Knowing that it could actively hurt/frustrate/annoy my friend helps me control myself, a little.

But it also occurred to me while reading Gretchen's wonderful post that this could apply professionally too. There's a fine line for a reference librarian to walk in the reference interview--that interaction where you and I discuss what you're looking for--between making sure we listen to what a patron is really asking for and not providing slow service.

There have been times when I have begun to pursue several avenues of inquiry with a patron, only to have them say, "Oh, well actually I only need..." or, "But it has to be a book..." etc. When I didn't ask enough questions, or the right questions, at the outset.

And the reason I didn't ask enough questions was because I didn't do a good enough job just listening. It's a skill I need to work on; without listening, I can't be effective.

Hey there.

I've been reading that looking for a job is pretty much an emotional roller coaster. I can definitely relate. I've got some lines in the water right now, but sometimes lately I find it difficult to stay positive. I'm trying to focus on the things I can control--contributing to cooking and cleaning duties, working on projects at my parents' house, keeping in shape--but my brain knows I'm trying to distract it.

So. Does anyone out there have a tip or trick they used when they really needed a job and couldn't find one? I've found a bunch of jobs that sound really exciting, and applied for them, but I'm still essentially sitting by the phone, waiting for someone to call me. I guess, like so many others, I have the job wallflower blues.

I know the big break will come, hopefully soon, for all of us out there that are looking for work. I'm just wondering about tips to keep one's spirits up. As it is I fluctuate between enthusiastic optimism and major bumming. Any tips to take the edge off this emo cycle would be appreciated. Ice cream? Kittens? Join a class? Take up knitting? I'll try almost anything once...

Ok, enough with the sob fest, and on to something more substantive.

My local public library may be closing in a year. GASP. When I say "may be closing," what I mean is, "WILL be closing unless they can get a millage through." Which unfortunately, in the Metro Detroit area, is anything but a given right now. So I think one thing I can do is try to go back to volunteering there a few hours a week. Things being the way they are, they're having to start laying people off right now. Not that I want anyone to replace the kind and dedicated folks over there, but I figure I might be able to help a bit.

Not a lot of other news right now, I'm just trying to enjoy the weather and apply for Reference/ Outreach/ Programming/ Instruction/ Other good stuff jobs until my fingers fall off from typing. Or something. Till the next time, then!

...but it's still me. Let me know what you think of the new look! Hope you like it.

Those people who wander libraries, checking stuff out, making copies, checking facebook, asking questions. What do we call them? For that matter, what about the people ordering materials, answering questions, giving demonstrations, shelving the books, and so on--what do we call them?

R. David Lankes, whose blog Virtual Dave...Real Blog I have been enjoying for some months, has a great idea. How about:
Members?

Or maybe better yet: Participants?

He makes some really great points in his most recent lecture/post about how libraries will increasingly become less important than librarians, and that librarians are not just servants of a community, we're members of it. Being a librarian or a person who works in a library is not an us/them proposition. It's a we proposition.

I could go on to summarize his points, but what really got my attention came toward the end of the lecture, where he said (this is a paraphrase): the mission of the library is to make sure the university succeeds, and the two main ways it does that are through instruction and research. Therefore the distinction between public services and tech services is largely and will grow increasingly irrelevant.

He also said that, "We build from basic 'blocks' and materials into more complex and individual expressions...With today's technology the basic blocks have been upgraded and we are all now creators," so that an interesting way to approach library services is more like the app store. There isn't one "user," some mythical person who uses the library--there are lots. So let's focus on making our framework great, but with lots of different, more customizable app-like parts, so that different people can focus on what they need the library to do.

Listening to this really interesting and engaging guy speak on this subject got me thinking about a new way to try approaching the courses for which I give library instruction:

Hello library participants!

Did you know that's what you are? If you didn't, we need to work on that, so please help us.

But you can and will do amazing and new things with the resources here, so please remember that you are creating. You are participating. The librarians who work here want to help you find what you need to write your papers, do your projects, and make something new.

This is our library.

Sooo, I do happen to be an Apple fangirl. Do I like fangirl? I hear a lot of people calling themselves fanboys...maybe I'm a fankid? I digress. Anyway.

I have basically been salivating in anticipation of the day when I can bring home my very own iPhone. I reallyreallyreally want a smartphone. Like a lot. I currently have an iPod touch, and I love the apps I have. I love having my music and my calendar and access to recipes and grocery lists and NPR and the WSJ and...and...and...you get the idea. All in one thing. The only thing that would make it greater would be to have my phone added to it. So instead of having to carry this great nearly-all-encompassing-device AND my phone, I could just have one. And it would do everything. Ok, everything I want it to.

So...the iPhone has been out for about three years. And I don't have one. Obviously the best way to sate my gadget-lust would have been to go buy one (duh!) and stop suffering. Yes?

Well. Aside from being tragically short of funds, I hear about this little problem with the iPhone. From people who have it. Specifically, the problem is that phone part doesn't work that well. Some, like my friend Aaron, live in one of the extremely high-volume areas like NYC and San Francisco. Others for whatever reason have had difficulty (to be fair, they weren't real specific). So in those cases I don't know if it's that their calls get dropped because the network is overloaded, or if (I'm making this one up) they hear a tinniness to their calls. Or what.

But for me, this is a concern. Because the best reason to upgrade from my iPod touch is so that I can finally have a similar device of a nice size that also lets me make phone calls (ok, there's also the data plan, but I understand I could get one for my iPod if I really wanted). So if the phone part is people's least favorite, that worries me. Even though iPhone G4 comes out today, I understand it is all still AT&T. I know it is possible to jailbreak your phone, but I'd really rather not.

So, I guess to sum up. In all fairness to both Apple and AT&T, my comments and fears about how "people say the phone part isn't great" is extremely unscientific. And of the people I've talked to, mostly they can't say enough good things about their iPhones. And since an iPhone is out of my price range at the moment anyway, I haven't done lots of real serious research on this.

But, even though it's a little problematic.....I still really want one.

Yup. I'm definitely a fankid.

Lately I keep hearing about networking. About how, if you really want a job in this profession/day and age/economy you HAVE to network. When people say this, what they mean (although they don't always tell you right away) is that you basically need to tell every single person you know that you're looking for a job. Not only that, you have to tell them what kind of work you do, what you're good at, and what you're looking for. This will help them help you, because hopefully you have the kinds of friends and family that want to help you. Right? Of course right (thanks, Yenta).

I have had the good fortune in the last two days of having three great people make some really interesting suggestions about where I could be going with my career, and ways in which I might at least get some temporary employment while I'm looking for "The Job." Thanks to all of you--you know who you are. However, I know that I need to pay back or pay forward this kindness. That's part of networking, too. If you want to benefit, you have to be willing to pass on information that can help your friends.

This got me to thinking. Maybe one of the greatest transferrable skills information professionals have is networking. Some of us are shy and have a hard time building our professional networks, it's true. However, what we are usually really good at is trying to help out our friends. People we know in other professions who need, well, pretty much anything. In the last few weeks I have spontaneously offered to help several people I know who didn't ask for help locating information, but who I just knew I could find something great for. In some cases it was job hunting information. In other cases it was professional research. We were having conversations over coffee, standing in line, whatever, and I realized--hey--I can help you.

One of the best things information professionals, and librarians in particular, can do right now--in this market, with the advent of technology, given the state of libraries, etc.--is to play up the other side of the networking angle. Help everyone who seems receptive. Your friend needs a job but is having a hard time figuring out where to apply? Help him find some appropriate job boards he hadn't been using. A relative is looking to make a career change? Help her find some aptitude tests and interest surveys to see where else she might apply her skills. Your best friend needs more information about organic food or their candidates for local election or what kind of air conditioner to get? You get the idea. And then point out that your library skills are what are helping you do this, and offer to show them some tricks of the trade.

And then when we need help getting jobs, or saving our libraries, or securing funding, there will be that many fewer people to convince about what librarians can do for them.

I was just reading this post from the ACRL (Association of College and Research Libraries) Insider blog, about the greatness of LES (Literatures in English Section) and all I could think was:

Yes.
Yes.
Totally agree.
Yes.

Thanks, Amanda, for such a great post. I have friends from undergrad who are pursuing advanced degrees in English, and I know they're also sometimes still struggling when outside of their go-to resources. If I had gone that route, I'm sure I would be, too.

Anything that gives people who love books/technology/trivia more excuses to share knowledge gets an A+ in my book.

So it's job hunting for me. The good news is there are lots of interesting-looking jobs out there. I'm not sure if there's bad news, per se--it's just that the waiting game has begun again.

So while I'm waiting, I'll be continuing to post any insights I have on library/technology/privacy issues, or anything else that gets my attention. And when I find that next great opportunity, I'll let you all know.

Maybe this idea is already being discussed out there in the world, but I was reading this article in the New Yorker on the future of books, and an offhand comment toward the end got me thinking. Thanks, Ken Auletta, for an intriguing article: Publish or Perish?

So if ebooks are going to be a big deal, and at least partially if not completely replace paper books, what about selling ebooks through the bookstore? Apparently Google is going to make this possible, but what if bookstores started really emphasizing that you can buy ebooks there?

Possible scenario: you stop by your local independent or chain bookstore that has free wifi. You bring your book-reading device with you. You've been trying to decide between buying the new James Patterson bestseller and that more literary novel (Lolita, maybe) you keep telling yourself you're going to read. The online comments aren't really helping. What you need is a personal recommendation from that person at the bookstore you trust. The one who's given you some great advice before--the one whose recommended picks you always look for on the staff shelf.
So you go to the bookstore, device in hand, and sure enough the person you're looking for is working. You ask their opinion. They tell you that, personally, they think the new Patterson is great. Not only that, but they'd like to draw your attention to this other literary work by an author you hadn't heard of...you walk out of the store later with not one, but two or three new ebooks. From the bookstore.

This would combine that personal touch that's so important to many booksellers and readers alike, while also allowing the reader the convenience of an ebook and providing revenue for the bookseller.

Who thinks this could work? Would you shop for books this way?

I've been hearing some interesting thoughts recently about what undergraduate students want, what they're capable of academically, and the way they think about things. As someone who was an undergrad not too long ago, I still identify more with undergrad students than with "real" adults. I'm going to address one of the issues I've been thinking about here, and another in my next post. Stay tuned....

Claim #1) Undergrads don't seem to care as much about privacy as "we" do. I've seen this thought most recently articulated on blog I really like: The Sheck Spot. Author Sarah Cohen writes about millenials and privacy within her thoughts/notes from LILAC (Librarians' Information Literacy Annual Conference) speaker Caroline Williams,  Exec. Director of Intute and Deputy Director of Mimas.

I am not sure that I agree with this claim at all. I would argue that millenials/undergrads car about different kinds of privacy, and have different or not totally formed concerns about privacy. For instance, *dating myself* I started using Facebook when it was still called "the Facebook," when only college students or people with a .edu email address were allowed to register. I remember having to wait until my school was added so that I could sign up, and the devastation many of my friends and classmates felt when we finally got it--a week before exams. To study, or to post pictures? The question indeed...

Anyway, at that point, we were (again, my pov) not terribly interested with privacy from one another--that is, other Facebook users or other students at our school--but we were VERY STRONGLY in favor of privacy from adults. Some professors on Facebook were ok, some were less ok (and who was who I think was largely a matter of opinion), but we were absolutely HORRIFIED when Facebook opened up to the web at large and it became possible for our parents and high-school aged siblings to get Facebook accounts. We stayed with Facebook because, despite our initial indignation, it offered too many benefits to quit. If I'm misrepresenting my fellow Facebook users I'd like to hear about it, but this is my impression for myself and from friends with whom I've discussed this.

So we were really interested in keeping our parents and other "adults" away from our personal information--we wanted space to share, but private space. Facebook was sort of like a college student clubhouse. What we didn't think about was the extent to which it was and is also a commercial enterprise.

Facebook users today--often especially students, but many older adults as well--tend to forget about the commercial aspects of Facebook. They/we forget to take into account the extent to which Facebook and the companies or individuals who create Mafia Wars and Farmville and Zombies vs. Vampires (these are just examples--I'm not making any claims or accusations about these particular programs) may have access to a certain amount of your personal information as well. Moreover, they're/we're not thinking about further ways that information may be available--through our friends and the programs they use, etc.

Why aren't people in general, and students perhaps in particular, thinking about this? Borrowing yet another thought (it's either from Dave Lankes of "Virtual Dave, Real Blog" or K.G. Schneider, the Free Range Librarian, both of which are very worth checking out), it's because we as librarians aren't pointing these issues out. Most of us, digital natives or not, are still used to thinking of our impact on and presence in the world as being a) largely under our own control and b) largely restricted to our in-person contact. We don't think about whether Google or Facebook or Amazon is collecting personal information about us (or, in the case of Amazon, we find it useful and fail to consider possible repercussions) because we're not used to thinking this way. Unfortunately, that can have disastrous personal consequences.

The kids who have been caught doing illegal drugs, underage drinking, etc. because they posted about it on Facebook, or the kids who have gotten in major trouble at school or with the law for sexting can all attest to this.

This is a great opportunity (again borrowing thoughts from Lankes and/or Schneider) for librarians to do some public service. One of these two gentleman raised the point that as librarians, we seem to be so worried about violating users' privacy--especially when it means observing what they're using the internet in libraries for--that we are actually doing them a disservice. Librarians are bound to protect privacy for users. It has been argued that we could be doing a much better job of that by alerting our patron and user communities to the risks to their privacy they're encountering, and in some cases inadvertently courting, online.

This is not to blame users! As I said, most of us just don't really think about these issues, or if we do we do so incompletely. Each new web program or update could potentially pose new questions about how they affect the security of private data, but we don't often think of them. Maybe this is a great way for librarians to demonstrate not only the sea change the profession has gone through, from book-based to tech savvy, but also how we can still be useful to users.

You've been warned. Not necessarily original ideas, and probably a lack of brilliant insight.

The unoriginal thought is that, while many libraries offer chat or IM reference, librarians know that it's not always the best vehicle for reference services.

This makes sense when you think about it--you might call the reference desk (in the olden days) or check the website if you aren't sure what the library's hours are. You probably wouldn't ask at the desk, since that information is posted all over the place in many libraries. So just checking the website is great for a lot of short questions. If you had a detailed question about a particular book, or you're trying to find out information and having trouble on your own, the website probably won't be as helpful. Again, I'm not being original here, but it makes sense if you think about it. I say, "if you think about it," because until I was in library school it wasn't something I thought about consciously, but it's sort of common sense.

Anyway. I started out talking about chat reference. I think it's mostly IM these days, as opposed to chat free-for-all reference pages where all users can see each others' questions, but for some reason we keep calling it chat. I knew intellectually but discovered in practice the other day on my shift that chat isn't practical for all questions. I had a couple of patrons whose initial questions turned out to be different from what we discovered they really needed. That happens all the time at the reference desk--but it's easier to sort out in person. I worry that, although my patrons eventually seem to have gotten what they needed, they suffered needless frustration while I tried to elicit their actual requirements. To some extent, I will get better at assisting people as I continue to gain experience and to practice. However, I also wonder whether it matters that some questions are better solved in person.

If we offer chat reference, it is reasonable to assume that people will use it. I mean, that's what it's there for. However, how can we help people self-select and visit or call the reference desk with more complicated questions? If a person knows they're having trouble, that can be one thing. However, what seems like a fairly simple question--can you help me find articles about the hijab, how can I find this book--can turn out to be really complicated. What about the hijab? What is the assignment? For the book--is that really the one you need? Is there something better out there that could really help you, if only I knew what you were really looking for?

I can't ask every person who comes to me if they're sure that book is what they really want. It sounds patronizing and it may unnecessarily extend a person's stop at the reference desk. If it really is all they want, and what they need, I might sidetrack them by implying that there's something better out there, when really there isn't. It's not fair to waste people's time, and I don't want to waste my own time either.

On the other hand, it can be harder than it seems to suggest to a patron that they might have better luck in person without suggesting that I think a) I am incompetent or b) they are.

Maybe this is something that library users will get the hang of in time. The problem may be that, as a newer technology, there are no real conventions on the user end for when to use this sort of service. But I worry that wishful thinking and relying on others to solve the problem on their own is both a failure of my responsibility and a way to look for the easy way out.

Well. I didn't promise brilliance, and I fear I delivered. I'll keep thinking about this, but I would welcome other thoughts...

I went to a panel discussion last week, and I'm still thinking about what I heard there. Particularly, I'm thinking about what was finally concretized (is that a word? made concrete) for me--that ignorance of what librarians do is deeply bound up with patrons' reluctance to ask us for help.

I have been thinking around this idea for months, so it was really exciting to have this made explicit for me by a library user. Like, REALLY exciting. Ok, so there are other things I could get more excited about, but it's as though something just clicked into place for me.

If people/patrons don't know what we do, they're unlikely to ask me for help. If they don't know what I offer, they don't know what to ask for. For instance, one woman pointed out that she didn't know about the reference interview.

For those unfamiliar with librarian jargon, the "reference interview" is what we call the transaction at the reference desk. When you come in or call the reference desk, or type a question into the "ask for help" chat box, you are beginning a process of finding what you need. The thing is, often when patrons (this happens to librarians, too--it happens to everyone) approaches the desk or begins thinking about a problem, they're not yet sure what their real question is. Reference librarians are trained to help patrons by asking questions like, "well, what about that," "what kind of turkey (country, animal, food)," "what more can you tell me," "what is this for," and so on that help us get at the kind of information and the format really needed. If you don't know that we practice that, and that it's our job, why would you think we could help you narrow down your research question?

I have come across this problem myself. I'd be doing research for some paper, trying to find some articles that discuss the issue I want to address. If I was having trouble finding something, I'd often keep trying on my own. Even though I knew that a librarian's job is to help, I thought that if I was having trouble finding information on my subject, wouldn't they too? Librarians know a lot of tricks, and a lot more places to look for information, as well. If a person didn't know that, why would they ask us for help?

All of this tells me that it's even more important than I thought for librarians to start getting the word out. Specifically, we need to educate the public about what we do. If college students and researchers aren't sure how we can help them, it stands to reason that the public who doesn't necessarily do much research wouldn't know how we can help them either.

Basically, I'm worthless to my community if they don't know WHY they should come ask me for help (because I have skills that can help them), and they won't know WHY I can help them if they don't know more about what I do. It's not all shelving and checking in books--in fact, librarians don't often do those things. I teach classes and ask questions about questions at the reference desk and put on events and help people cite their sources correctly. I troubleshoot printing and downloading files, I help people fix their margins in Word, I tweet and post to Facebook what I'm doing. I have a lot of jobs, and I learn about a lot of things for my job.

Ask me. It's likelier than you think that I can track that answer down for you.

Yes, it really has been a while.

Long semester short--it was hard. Really hard. I am not sure I have really understood about how difficult it can be to follow through even on a goal to which one is dedicated until last month. However, I did manage to graduate, not alienate my family or friends, and not lose my sanity. Yay!

So, now I'm a librarian. Really really. I can tell people that in conversation without having to qualify it. It feels good, but it's going to take some getting used to. I think mostly I've been avoiding it actually by telling people what my specific job is (part-time librarian at the UGLi) rather than just saying, "Oh, I'm a librarian, what do you do?"

It does feel very strange not to be a student anymore. Many of my friends are in graduate school right now, or contemplating going back. I foresee asking a lot of people "what are you doing" at parties instead of "what do you do" because so many people I know are in kind of a nebulous state right now. I guess I am too--done with school but not quite standing on my own two feet yet.

So that is my mission in the coming months. To find the means to be responsible for myself. I am kind of scared, but mostly I can't wait. Whether I end up with stability (my own apartment, a steady job) or spontenaity (maybe a job in another country, or something...) I am eager to feel that I have choices again. I can take a job, or not. Ok, who am I kidding, I do need a job. But I can live with my parents, or in this apartment, or that one. I can live in Michigan, or Illinois, or Bavaria, or Japan. I can decide what my budget will be. I can make life decisions. I have been putting many things on hold and I can't wait to begin making choices again.

I think that's all for now. I promise it won't be so long before the next one.

Well, I think maybe I am not surprised. After about a year living at my parents' home and not packing up to move my life every three months, the nomad existence has come back with a vengeance.

I now spend two days a week in Ann Arbor at my practicum, which is great! The only thing is, it means I'm sleeping over somewhere at least once a week. On top of this, I am sleeping over, but I have to get up in the morning and make myself presentable for work. This is not like when I was in undergrad and could just sleep late and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans before running out the door. So I'm trying, one baby step at a time, to get used to being a grown-up.

It might kill me. I have no idea how I used to get up so early nearly every day, except that going to bed at 10:30 seemed to help (OH NO) and that for the first hour or so I was still basically useless. So I'm trying to switch back and forth between two sleep schedules now, 10:30-6:30ish and midnight-8 or 9ish. Not surprisingly, it isn't working very well. I think I really know what they mean now with that expression "burning the candle at both ends."

However, there is an upshot to all of this, which is that I love what I'm doing and I love getting to see my A2 friends all the time! So that much is wonderful. Also I'm getting lots of car time to listen to my podcasts and music, and if it means my laundry schedule is getting somewhat crazy and I feel kind of tired all the time, oh well. I will sleep when I'm dead. My caffeine addiction will continue for the duration, but I am telling myself that I will find a more convenient time to cut back.

So all in all, life is good. Also, we got the whole living/dining room painted!! It looks so cool! Dad says he's going to do the entryway ceiling next...good luck to him. I don't think I'll be able to help much at this point, but I may still take up a brush now and then.

Beyond that, I'm trying to enjoy the new fall-like weather, and I'm thinking seriously about a chai cider later today. I'll write again soon.

Today was my second real day, first really meaningful day, at my academic library practicum.

It was excellent. Totally great.

The librarians treated me (I think) just like another librarian, they were all really welcoming, and my supervisor is continuing to go out of her way to help me get started.

I am trying not to let my excitement distract me from the work I will have to put in, so I'm off to write a journal entry. I'll check back in soon.

Well, here it is.

My last semester as a student for goodness knows how long.

Not shockingly for me, I'm having ambivalence about this. On one hand, I've been telling anyone who would listen to me for almost two years (I'm sorry, by the way, to all of you) about how I couldn't wait to get out of school and start doing something. On the other hand, I have five fingers. Ok, sorry, but I get teased about that all the time. I still can't seem to stop saying "on the one hand..."

The opposing point is that although I want to get out and work, I haven't actually worked full time, well, ever. I got up to about 38 hours a week at my first summer job, and I was pretty burned out at the end of every day. Also, that was a long time ago. The last two weeks at my job, I worked exactly half-time, and that was pretty doable. Also, I started feeling (finally) as though working was really what I wanted to be doing. So I think that's a good sign.

But still. I'm living with my parents right now, since I didn't want to take out the loans necessary to have an apartment for grad school. Which means I'm not scurrying around the house right now, getting ready to move in. I trained myself so well for that, and now I'm not doing it. It feels very weird. I'm helping my sister pack her stuff, which I suppose is helping me too, but I know the house is going to feel very empty when it goes back to just being my parents and me.

I probably won't be in the house much, of course; since I'm about to graduate, this is the big scary. I will be spending a lot of time in Ann Arbor at my practicum, about which I'm really excited. Also, even when I'm home, if I'm not doing homework I'll probably be soliciting letters of recommendation and filling out job applications. If all goes well, I'll be interviewing some places.

So I guess that's my update: a little angst and a little hope. As usual. Back to the job-applying stuff. I'll try to update again soon.