My name is Joy, and I might be a Luddite

I have recently come to terms with the fact that I am a bit of a Luddite. And what, some of you may ask, exactly is a Luddite? According to the Oxford English Dictionary (that's the OED to its closest friends), a Luddite is "one who opposes the introduction of new technology, esp. into a place of work." A group of manufacturers were given this name after following one Captain Ludd in protests during the Industrial Revolution. They essentially tried to stop the march of progress by destroying the machines that were replacing them in the factories. Obviously, they weren't successful, but the name stuck. So that's something they accomplished.

It's not that I don't appreciate technology. Hey, I'm using a blog. I have a Facebook account. Email rocks. Twitter and LinkedIn may grow on me. We just bought a tablet (but I hate (!!) mobile apps. I want to see all of the options, not just the ones your choose for me). And the Internet, well, it's pretty cool.

The Internet: it's bigger on the inside (who's a Doctor Who fan out there?).

Love the IT Crowd.

Sorry. Back to the main topic.

It's just the rate that technology and gadgets are changing can be a bit mind numbing at times. Being in the information profession (that's fancy speak for librarianship), I think that I see so much more of the new technologies, and even what I see is only the tip of the ice burg. My position in the Tower does keep me a bit insulated from many new fangled notions since I'm just trying to pull us past the mid-1990's (I'm getting a new scanner!!). I just find myself thinking I wish I could just give it all up, plow an acre of land, make my own clothes, and coordinate an old fashioned book exchange for the other homesteaders nearby.

So what prompted this oh so very philosophical post? As I may have mentioned, I'm running for an office on the Board of SLA (that's Special Libraries Association). As part of the campaign process, we have to answer questions periodically to help the members get to know us. You can see my most recent post here. The question about techie gadgets just irked me a bit. I really had to tone down my snark. Again, it's not that I have anything wrong with techie gadgets, but they are certainly not the end all be all of helping people in a library or information resource or research setting (and I don't really think the question implied that, it's just where my mind went this evening).

Here was my work for the last two weeks: listening to recordings of carillon concerts (good, actually very enjoyable) combined with trying to get my computer to do something else so I could multitask (not so good) all the while trying to find carillon music appropriate to play during a 5K race (you can still participate). Today, I had 4 hours to actually burn the CD. Between the additional editing that needed to be done, the rare visitor that came to see me in the library, and my super slow computer, it took me 5 hours to accomplish this task. Yes, my computer is that slow. Really. It's not that I was just impatient. It took an hour and a half to burn 66 minutes worth of music to a CD today. What new techie gadget do I want? A computer that works faster than a snail's pace. A scanner with a wide enough bed to capture 8.5 x 11" paper (who buys a scanner made for A4 paper in the US?). A phone that doesn't get all static when a storm is approaching. Reliable electricity and temperature control (historic buildings are a bit of a bummer about things like that). Running water (I kid not). There are librarians out in the world doing what they can with a whole lot less. Tablets, smart phones, apps, blah, blah, blah. Let's make sure everyone has the basics before we go all crazy. The good news is that I should be getting a newer computer, scanner, and other 21st century computer equipment next week!! Eeee!

Call me a Luddite. It's ok. I'd even wear the t-shirt.

If I start a tech-free commune, who wants a plot of land?

What is up with libraries these days? Part two

When I was working on part one of this thread, I realized that I had more to say than I could cram into one post. The passion I felt over this has faded some. I am a bit more removed at this point from the problems that stirred up so much ire in my spirit (the project isn't over, though, so I'm sure it will come up again). But even as I sit here to try to verbalize (or write) the jumbled mess of thoughts I have on this issue, the problem seems overwhelming. Or maybe it's just so simple and staring me in my face that I am just ignoring it.

I'll say this now. This post will probably be filled with sweeping, but not hasty, generalizations about the people with whom I share my field. I will also admit that I am not the most well-read librarian on library things. The number of blogs out there is overwhelming, and quite a few librarians are addressing the same issues as myself (most of them with a much broader audience than my own little blog world here). If you've read similar words somewhere else, share.

Here's how I ended part 1:
"We are Librarians, a part of a long history of subversion, controversy, rebellion, and knowledge. If knowledge is power, we have the power of entire civilizations at our finger tips. Let's use it!

Part Two will more than likely be on why most librarians won't actually step up to the plate and why I hope that I will be proven wrong."

I feel like I should clarify a little. Plenty of librarians are stepping up to the plate and fighting to show the value of our profession. Take for example the advocates in the Florida Library Association who successfully lobbied to maintain library funding for this extremely tight budget year (check out their thank you video here. Your mother was right: always say thank you). But here's the problem with some of our advocacy efforts: we often only talk to each other. We vent on listservs hidden away from the public eye. We post blogs that only other librarians are reading. We are tongue tied with our professional jargon. We only step up when there is trouble. Ok, so that's more than one problem, but I think they have a similar root: the kind of people attracted to the librarian field.

WARNING: generalization ahead

If you haven't noticed, many librarians are of a certain type. Public services librarians (front lines people, the public face of libraries) like to help people and diffuse situations, and technical services librarians (the people hiding behind closed doors or on the fifth floors of towers closed to the public) generally prefer technology to people and really don't like trouble. The appeal of the library is the illusion that each day will be filled with helping connect library users with the perfect resources. It's a blissful illusion since anyone who has worked in a library for more than an hour knows just how volatile the atmosphere in a library can be. So, we vent to each other about that. We deal with the day to day issues that invariably arise in our work place. We become so wrapped up with just getting through today that we avoid the big picture. Some one else can deal with that. I'm just too busy. We all stay in our own little words talking to the people we know agree with us and just treading water. I know I'm guilty.

According to the most recent (2008) O*NET numbers, there are 160,000 librarians in the US (the number is probably more since this is specifically people who identify themselves as "librarians" and the profession is much broader than that). Can you imagine if we all actually spoke with the same voice about our value to the rest of the country? But we divide ourselves. Are you aware of how many professional organizations exist for librarians? American Library Association, Special Libraries Association, Music librarians Association, Association of American Law Librarians, Medical Library Association. Check out this rather lengthy list. You would think we would all be working together, but no. We divide ourselves, claiming that no other "type" can possibly understand the problems I have in MY library or information center or whatever you call it.

I feel like this post is getting away from me. And maybe that's another problem with librarians.

If we, those of us who spent all that money getting our professional degrees, are not going to step forward and explain to the rest of the world that our value goes far beyond helping people find the next big bestseller (a valuable skill, but not our only skill), who in the world to we expect to do this for us? Are all those computer programmers out there expecting all of their users to tell the world how valuable they are? No. Do the lawyers rely on others to defend their value to the world? No. How about the doctors, plumbers, electricians, police officers... Get the picture? We are each responsible for making sure that others understand our value.

We should be adapting to the future. The world is changing and all that. But we shouldn't be allowing other people to tell us how we are supposed to change. It's like a doctor telling a plumber how to clear a drain because the doctor unclogged an artery or vice versa. They are both experts in their own field and perhaps they can learn from each other, but one can't tell the other what to do. Yes, evaluate what you're doing and why. Recognize that you may need to change. But don't just change for change's sake. And don't just stay the same because that's how we've always done it. Become active in other information professions, using the knowledge that you have already learned to help teach others. We cannot be passive any more. We cannot allow other to say that we have no value because computers are just so smart these days (computers aren't creating themselves... yet). Shock and amaze people by your mad searching, organizing, teaching, archiving, programming, writing, helping, creating, collaborating, managing, budgeting (anything else?) skills. And when they look at you weird or actually say, "Gee, how'd you know that?" just reply, "Because I am a (dudududaaaa) LIBRARIAN!" (insert image of cape bedecked person with a book on chest, wind blowing, music playing).

Don't sell yourself (and your profession) short: You are a librarian, and we all rock this world.

What is up with libraries these days? Part One

I know many of you are not librarians by trade, so you may not be aware of the shake ups happening in our little world these days. I would say it all started back when Al Gore invented the internet. There were people who said, "Wait. That's not true. I need to go to my local library and ask one of those librarians for the real story." And then there were those people who said, "Wait. What's the internet? I need to go to my library and see if I can check that out with my library card." It was this moment in time (or one very near by) that set libraries off on a trajectory into the information age.

Just one second person who coined the "information age" phrase. We're trying to say that there was no information before Al Gore invented the internet? Because I was under the impression that humans have been dealing with information ever since they figured out they could communicate with each other.

Librarians of the 21st century (I claim that title when the hit action-packed, sci-fi movie is released) are faced with an overwhelming task: making all ideas available to all people. Back when printed books were the status quo and we didn't have to worry about all this digital nonsense, it was a bit easier to say with some confidence that, after a diligent search, all of the information on X subject had been found with perhaps a few exceptions that may have been located in musty archives inaccessible to anyone. Now, there is no confidence that any one person could ever find ALL the information available on a topic. As soon as you finish your first go around, dozens of articles, websites, and self-published books could have been released. The idea of a comprehensive literature review should terrify the average person.

But there, you see, librarians are not just "the average person." We have knowledge, we have advanced degrees, we have super secret special powers that allow us to fly... Wait. That last one is a bit too far. But we are able to tap into the collective knowledge of our current and past civilizations to find you the best response for your most pressing questions. Yes, we are awesome. And yes, there is a difference between the library clerk who give you a blank stare when you ask a complicated question and the professional librarian just dying to have someone ask them something that will require more than pointing towards the restroom.

A fellow book lover recently passed along this blog post by a librarian that often has very strong opinions (I would share this persons name, but I only know this person's screen name: the.effing.librarian). Be warned that there is some language both in the post and in the comments. While I think that librarians, generally speaking, have a fuller vocabulary than the rest of the world (we do have unlimited access to all of those dictionaries after all), I think the language displays the passion that we all feel towards this debate. The.effing.librarians was responding to Seth Godin's recent post that has sparked a huge debate about the future of libraries and the librarians who work in them.

So what's the big deal, you may ask? Just move on, librarians, get with the times, you may say. For the most part, libraries lead the way of getting with the times. They used computers regularly before most business recognized their value. They jumped on the Internet bandwagon as soon as possible, sharing and collaborating and making sure that patrons really did have access to everything. Much to the chagrin of the bun-bedecked librarian, we are hip (but perhaps I just reduced our inherent hipness by using the very word). We have ipads and kindles and instant stream movies, music, and audio books. We are digitizing and archiving and programming and whatever. And here is another super power I forgot to address: we do this all with almost no money. I know, right? We're amazing.

But with this push towards all things digital, we forget that first tenant that all librarians swear to upon graduation (it's sort of like doctors making the Hippocratic oath, only not at all): I, (state your name), do so solemnly swear that I will neither discriminate user or resource and will provide access to all people to all information.

Get that? We are not allowed to discriminate against users (which, by the way, is pretty much an American thing. The.effing.librarian makes an excellent point by stating that many countries absolutely DO NOT have anything that even resembles US public libraries open and free to all). We also CANNOT discriminate against our resources. For many decades, that has meant primarily the content of the resources. As librarians, we leave our personal preferences at the door and try to offer our patrons the range of information on all topics. We are not called to decide HOW people think; we are just trying to get them to think. More recently, this discrimination has been more about carrier type (that's an inside joke for catalogers facing the rather catastrophic appearance of RDA which has nothing do do with recommended daily allowances, thank you Google). What does discrimination against carrier type mean? It means administrators and some narrow minded librarians are throwing away their books. Gone. No print. It's obsolete. Everything is on the Internet.

No. False. Much to almost everyone's surprise everything is NOT on the Internet. In fact, most things are not on the Internet. Like all of those books that you just threw away. Google hasn't digitized those yet. And all of those archives that you just tossed. They don't exist any where. And all of those photos and newspaper articles and letters and magazines. Those aren't there either. You may think that everything is on the Internet because (insert your favorite search engine here) just dumped 7 billion websites onto your computer screen when you searched for "economic decline," but looks can be deceiving. I recently saw this rather revealing post On the dangers of personalization. So now we must also consider that search engines are hiding results from you based on your search history in addition to not actually being able to search the entirety of human knowledge in the first place. Google never earned a master's degree in library science. It took no oath not to discriminate against users or resources. And when was the last time Netflix "genres" actually suggested something you might want to watch (sorry, that's another soap box).

I don't know, people. It's a sad world in which we live. As I sit here typing this, I continue to have the same nagging thought: Who cares? Who cares that people in the United States can't think critically. Who cares that they aren't getting the best answer to their question as long as they get some answer. Who cares that entire sections of our culture and past are being thrown into the dumpsters. The idea of "good enough" permeates our culture from people eating at restaurants that care more about being fast than serving food that tastes good to education systems interested only in the results of a standardized test to corporations that are only interested in the bottom line and ignore the quality of their product.

Well, let's rise above librarians. Let's care. Let's fight this fight until there is no more fight to fight. Let's join together to work with the e-publishers that want to tell us how to be a library. We need to tell them! (If you don't know about that, go sign this petition and go read Andy Woodworth's blog post on why he started the petition). We are Librarians, a part of a long history of subversion, controversy, rebellion, and knowledge. If knowledge is power, we have the power of entire civilizations at our finger tips. Let's use it!

Part Two will more than likely be on why most librarians won't actually step up to the plate and why I hope that I will be proven wrong.

Uses for the library

ALA (American Library Association for those outside the field) just announced it's Library of the Future award winner: Orange County Library System. That's Orange County Florida, thank you very much. Somewhat prophetically, the award was given because of the OCs plethora of technology classes offered each month. That made me think of why I go to my local library.

1. To check out craft books. If you haven't noticed, craft books can be quite expensive. I do not have the money to feed my crafting book addictions, so to the library I go. The last time I was there, I was actually a bit disappointed with the selection (I was looking for cross stitch books). I think I concluded that the reason that they didn't have any new cross stitch books is because the craft isn't as popular as it once was. They had plenty of new quilting books... which I also checked out. I like to dream about crafts I will never start.

2. To attend programs given by the Children's Department. Ironic, right, since I don't have any children. It's true, though, because whenever my sister comes to visit, we check out what's going on at the library. We get movies, find books to read, and go to the summer movie program the library offers. When my niece stayed with us last summer, we did the same thing. I even attended a story time with a former co-worker to get some ideas for the story time I used to lead (we called ahead first to make sure it was ok that two women with no children showed up). I strongly believe that allowing children to have fun times at the library will help assure the presence of libraries into the future. And yes, I also strongly believe that libraries will transition to find a place in the future. Doctor Who even says so:


3. To check out audio books. I have a long commute now. I wanted something to keep my mind busy while in the car. I was a bit disappointed to discover that our library does not actively purchase new audiobooks. I was forced to check out the Young Adult audiobook collection to find something I would enjoy.

Why do you go to your library? Or why don't you go to your library?