A commenter in the last post noted that she was "getting really tired of the 'We never learned that in library school' quotes," because she had "yet to see one regarding a topic that [she] did NOT hear about in library school," and she "went to a low-ranked school!" Is this a common quote? I really don't know. The quote I hear the most, and occasionally utter myself, is, "I didn't go to library school to do X," X being some extremely unprofessional work that could be handled by an uneducated high school student. You know, things like clearing printer jams, mopping floors, playing video games. That kind of thing. But my word, the things I didn't learn in library school, and I went to a high-ranked one! Here are some classes I could have used:
LIS 501: Library Politics
In this class you will learn how to navigate the tricky world of library politics. The most important lessons will be how to avoid and/or thwart the complete bastards who will try to make your worklife miserable and how to make other librarians and staff members into your allies and/or minions. When the revolution, reorganization, or power struggle comes, you DO NOT want to be the first one against the wall. You will also learn how to stand on the backs of others to achieve what you want while leaving minimal footprints on their clothing.
LIS 502: Appearance and Deception
In LIS 502 you will learn just how importance appearances are, both physical and professional. A stroll through a library may leave the impression that physical appearance isn't important for librarians. However, you might have a different opinion if you saw the high-powered library administrators and consultants around the country. They typically have a reverse fat to fashion ratio compared to most librarians--less fat, more fashion. They have learned that looking good is as important as being good, more important in many cases. This same lesson applies to one's professional accomplishments and reputation. Splashy but ineffectual initiatives, publications, and presentations will be rewarded where substantive work will not. There are professions where you are judged by your intellectual achievements. Librarianship isn't one of those professions.
LIS 503: Doing the Work
Someone has to do the real work of the library while everyone else is flying around the country and the world attending conferences and mingling with the beautiful people and planning initiatives that other people will have to enact. Make sure this worker person isn't you. You want to mingle with the beautiful people sipping martinis (or perhaps champagne) while your colleagues Mr. Drudge and Ms. Grind sit quietly in their cubicles processing stuff. This class will teach you the seven highly secret secrets of effective and profitable work-avoidance.
LIS 504: Library Organization
You might think you had a class like this, but you didn't. In this class you will learn that libraries have very little useful organization, and the bigger the library the more likely you are to wonder how anything gets done at all. It may seem like the library is a rigid structure, but rigid structures are useless and easy to avoid. Think Maginot Line. LIS 504 will teach you how to dodge playfully around the sometimes archaic organizational structures of the typical library and make the connections that matter, either to get things done (if getting things done is your metier) or to not get things done and yet still look superior to those who do.
They always say that whatever you learn in library school will date quickly, and why would they lie. That may be true. But some of the lessons you learn after library school, such as library politics, never date. The lack of these courses may also explain the poor social and fashion skills of so many librarians.
For the benefit of the students and new librarians among us, feel free to suggest your own courses that you wish you'd had in library school.
Showing posts with label library school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label library school. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, December 03, 2007
Library Technologists of the Future
This was sent in by a fan. Supposedly, these are summaries of student presentations to be given at the end of a library school's required technology course, or perhaps I should say "technology" course. I'm not sure if these are supposed to be individual or group presentations, but I hope group. That would make them much more entertaining as the students vied to demonstrate the intricate workings of an iPod. ("No, wait! Let me show them how to play Brick!") By the way, I don't know any more about these than you do, since I wasn't given the full information. Maybe I'm being hoaxed. The wonderful thing about that possibility is that I don't care.
If not a hoax, this definitely shows that library school is even easier now than it was in my day, whenever that was. As ridiculously easy as I found library school, I can honestly say that I wasn't allowed to stand up in front of a class showing how to use an iPod and call it graduate work. If I recall correctly, I had to stand up and show how to operate a boombox and call it graduate work. "Watch closely, class. You push this little button to play the cassette. And this little knob lets you tune the stereo." I am, of course, joking. My library school wouldn't have let me get away with that, and yet that's exactly the sort of thing library schools are doing today while getting applause from the twopointopians.
So let's take a look at what the library school students of today get to call graduate work. Is it as easy as sitting in class playing videogames?
"*Presentation 1: Jing is a tool for creating and sharing still and video captures of a computer screen. The presenters plan to demonstrate how a librarian could use Jing to create short database or catalog tutorials that can be shared from the library's website or on-the-fly tutorials for chat reference. The presentation will be in the lab (not available for web viewing or archiving)."
I can see where this would be useful for various librarian purposes, tutorials and such. It hardly seems like something worth giving a grade to, though, and I'm assuming these presentations are graded. When I was in school, this was the sort of thing that would have been handled by some extracurricular student presentation just for fun. Still, I suppose I sat through sillier presentations in library school.
"*Presentation 2: Operations of an iPod will be presented to an audience of new users. The intention is to demonstrate the creation of learning modules for library instruction. A 5th generation iPod will be used for this demonstration."
A 5th generation iPod for a 5th grade presentation. Seems appropriate.
"*Presentation 3: The presenters will give a demonstration of how to play the game Guitar Hero. Presentation will include how this device can be used to help a person's hand-eye coordination, and also be a fun activity for older children, young adults, and older adults. Content will include discussion on how this can be used within a public library setting."
Yay! More sitting in class playing videogames. What a great way to turn your puerile hobby into an exercise for "graduate" school! Isn't this the game where you pretend to play guitar even though you don't really need to know how? That seems perfect for library school, where people pretend to be graduate students while spending their time in class playing videogames.
"*Presentation 4: This module will demonstrate the basic features of the Magellen Explorist line of GPS units. The objective is to show how a GPS system can be incorporated into a library setting or library use. A geocaching element is also included in the training module. (Portions of this module will be held outside, weather permitting.)"
Now this one is new to me, not GPS units, but claiming they can be "incorporated into a library setting or library use." Good luck meeting that objective. I'm still trying to figure out what demonstrating anything outside has to do with being in the library. Is it just me, or does it seem like some geocaching library student needed to present on something "technological" and grabbed the first thing handy? A GPS system for a library? I suppose this is information technology of a sort, but it seems unlikely that any libraries would need this. Even the bookmobile probably takes the same route all the time. Oh, wait, maybe if you worked in a really big library and were stupid enough to get lost all the time, this could be useful. The "geocaching element" is a clue, I think, that this is another way to turn a hobby into a "graduate" school presentation. I should have been allowed to demonstrate a little technology called the cocktail shaker with the objective of incorporating it into a library setting.
If possible, library school is easier than ever if this is what passes for technology education. Or perhaps we're starting to see a decline into the library version of the future envisioned by H.G. Wells in The Time Machine. If you've ever read that book, you know the future population is divided into the brutal but capable Morlocks and the harmless and helpless Eloi. In Wells's socialist vision, the Morlocks are the descendants of the working classes, who were forced to work underground until they became pale and stunted but at least are able to do things. The Eloi are the descendants of the bourgeoisie who no longer know how to do anything, but are just around to giggle and look at pretty flowers and provide food for the Morlocks.
Consider this vision as we look at library technology education. There are those library school students who learn to program computers and build systems and create useful technological stuff for their libraries. And then there are those students who learn to demonstrate iPods and play videogames. We all know that systems librarians and programmers and such like to sit in the dark and are just mean and have all the power and want to use the rest of us for food. Obviously they're the Morlocks. When we see students getting graduate credit for playing videogames in class, I think we know who the Eloi are going to be.
If not a hoax, this definitely shows that library school is even easier now than it was in my day, whenever that was. As ridiculously easy as I found library school, I can honestly say that I wasn't allowed to stand up in front of a class showing how to use an iPod and call it graduate work. If I recall correctly, I had to stand up and show how to operate a boombox and call it graduate work. "Watch closely, class. You push this little button to play the cassette. And this little knob lets you tune the stereo." I am, of course, joking. My library school wouldn't have let me get away with that, and yet that's exactly the sort of thing library schools are doing today while getting applause from the twopointopians.
So let's take a look at what the library school students of today get to call graduate work. Is it as easy as sitting in class playing videogames?
"*Presentation 1: Jing is a tool for creating and sharing still and video captures of a computer screen. The presenters plan to demonstrate how a librarian could use Jing to create short database or catalog tutorials that can be shared from the library's website or on-the-fly tutorials for chat reference. The presentation will be in the lab (not available for web viewing or archiving)."
I can see where this would be useful for various librarian purposes, tutorials and such. It hardly seems like something worth giving a grade to, though, and I'm assuming these presentations are graded. When I was in school, this was the sort of thing that would have been handled by some extracurricular student presentation just for fun. Still, I suppose I sat through sillier presentations in library school.
"*Presentation 2: Operations of an iPod will be presented to an audience of new users. The intention is to demonstrate the creation of learning modules for library instruction. A 5th generation iPod will be used for this demonstration."
A 5th generation iPod for a 5th grade presentation. Seems appropriate.
"*Presentation 3: The presenters will give a demonstration of how to play the game Guitar Hero. Presentation will include how this device can be used to help a person's hand-eye coordination, and also be a fun activity for older children, young adults, and older adults. Content will include discussion on how this can be used within a public library setting."
Yay! More sitting in class playing videogames. What a great way to turn your puerile hobby into an exercise for "graduate" school! Isn't this the game where you pretend to play guitar even though you don't really need to know how? That seems perfect for library school, where people pretend to be graduate students while spending their time in class playing videogames.
"*Presentation 4: This module will demonstrate the basic features of the Magellen Explorist line of GPS units. The objective is to show how a GPS system can be incorporated into a library setting or library use. A geocaching element is also included in the training module. (Portions of this module will be held outside, weather permitting.)"
Now this one is new to me, not GPS units, but claiming they can be "incorporated into a library setting or library use." Good luck meeting that objective. I'm still trying to figure out what demonstrating anything outside has to do with being in the library. Is it just me, or does it seem like some geocaching library student needed to present on something "technological" and grabbed the first thing handy? A GPS system for a library? I suppose this is information technology of a sort, but it seems unlikely that any libraries would need this. Even the bookmobile probably takes the same route all the time. Oh, wait, maybe if you worked in a really big library and were stupid enough to get lost all the time, this could be useful. The "geocaching element" is a clue, I think, that this is another way to turn a hobby into a "graduate" school presentation. I should have been allowed to demonstrate a little technology called the cocktail shaker with the objective of incorporating it into a library setting.
If possible, library school is easier than ever if this is what passes for technology education. Or perhaps we're starting to see a decline into the library version of the future envisioned by H.G. Wells in The Time Machine. If you've ever read that book, you know the future population is divided into the brutal but capable Morlocks and the harmless and helpless Eloi. In Wells's socialist vision, the Morlocks are the descendants of the working classes, who were forced to work underground until they became pale and stunted but at least are able to do things. The Eloi are the descendants of the bourgeoisie who no longer know how to do anything, but are just around to giggle and look at pretty flowers and provide food for the Morlocks.
Consider this vision as we look at library technology education. There are those library school students who learn to program computers and build systems and create useful technological stuff for their libraries. And then there are those students who learn to demonstrate iPods and play videogames. We all know that systems librarians and programmers and such like to sit in the dark and are just mean and have all the power and want to use the rest of us for food. Obviously they're the Morlocks. When we see students getting graduate credit for playing videogames in class, I think we know who the Eloi are going to be.
Monday, November 19, 2007
The AL Advice Column
Reading back through the comments to last Friday's post, I noticed one from a library school student seeking advice, the query being more or less, is it really as bad as it seems after reading the AL. I have some sympathy for library school students; after all, I was one once myself. To be honest, when I started the AL I didn't consider that any students would be reading. It was more one professional griping to other professionals for fun. This sounds a bit inappropriate considering that a lot of library school students are probably even older than I am now, but when students first started reading and responding to the AL, it felt a little like the children were eavesdropping on the adult's conversation. I don't mean to sound patronizing, it's just that the discussions here usually tend to revolve around issues of relevance only for those who have left the cozy library school world of group work and tedious assignments for the harsh professional world of group work and tedious assignments.
For example, I rarely address the plight of the non-professional library worker, though more through ignorance than negligence. I work with many non-professional staff, but I don't tend to think of them any differently than the professional staff. In the immortal words of Depeche Mode, people are people. I know in some libraries there is a more rigid class structure than I'm used to, and a lot of ill treatment by both the library patrons and the so-called professional librarians, but I'm not the one to address that. There should be a blog called Annoyed Library Worker for that, and I'd be happy to add it to the blogroll.
Once I began addressing library school and folks began commenting one way or another on the experience, I should have expected some library school students to read, and, as you all know, I'm happy to dispense advice as if it were water, murky and bilious water perhaps, but still water. My previous advice still stands: get out now and save yourselves! Despite my advice, people keep entering library school, no doubt attracted by the ALA's Top Ten Reasons to Be a Librarian.
So here's the query, to which I'll respond in parts. Please feel free to advise this student as well. Some of you seem to think I'm too harsh and bitter and not perky or constructive enough. Here's your chance to set the record straight for this student. I'm going try to be perkier and more constructive than usual as well. We have to be gentle with the students, because we need them to graduate and get jobs so they can support us in our dotage at the old librarians' home.
"Over the past week I've been reading the AL's blog and have been horrified of what I've read! I'm currently in the process of wrapping up my first quarter in an MLS program and am feeling very doubtful about my career decision after having read all of your comments."
That's understandable. I've been a librarian for years and am still feeling doubtful about my career decision. Remember, if you're able to get a job, you won't have to work very hard. The expectations are low in every area, from performance to fashion. You won't get paid much, but you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you're saving the world one library card at a time. No amount of money in the world could replace that feeling.
"Of course, I'm not founding my fears on the comments of strangers alone, as I've been working a VERY part-time student assistant position at my local public library and have, on more than one occasion, referred to our fine institution as nothing more than a glorified Blockbuster. The attitude of patrons can only be described as demanding and cruel, as they treat us library workers as if we were sub-human scum."
Your institution probably is a glorified Blockbuster, but in this you are not alone. That's how the librarians of the future prefer it, so get used to it. As for being treated as sub-human scum by the patrons, this should change after you become a genuine professional librarian. Then you'll be treated as ordinary human scum, which is much better. No, I shouldn't say that. It must depend on the library, because I've never been treated as scum by library patrons, only by some of my colleagues.
"I realize that no career is going to be a picnic, and this is, after all, a public service position, but I'm beginning to feel that I am truly squandering my money on a degree that will leave me working for a mere $6 an hour, which is what all non-salaried staff at my library currently makes. It's very discouraging to hear employees that have been with the library for 4-5+ years complain about not even having the money for routine car repairs or clothes. How will I pay back these student loans if I can't even afford an oil change?"
Hmmm, the $6/hour does sound low, but surely the professional librarians get paid much more, perhaps even as much as $12/hour! How will you pay back the student loans? That's a different question. My advice is, don't take out any more loans, because you'll probably still be paying them back out of your Social Security. Don't borrow money for library school. Don't pay any outlandish tuition for library school. If you can't go cheaply in-state or get some sort of assistantship or get your employer to pay for it, think about doing something else. On the plus side, you might not even be able to afford a car, so worrying about an oil change is a sign that you're a hopeful person. Hopefulness goes a long way, except in a car with no oil.
"In my heart I'm clinging to the idea of working in the libraries because of my love for books (I know, I know ...it's stupid) and sharing that love with others. However, even the patrons that DO use the library for reading resources are checking out "light romances" and popular fiction ...basically, GARBAGE."
This warms the cockles of my heart, and there's nothing I like more than hot cockles. If you love books and reading and think most pop fiction is garbage, it definitely sounds like you're in the wrong place. The public library is the place to get pop fiction garbage and DVDs. Add Internet porn and video games, and you have the raison d'etre of the library. You should set your sights on an academic library, where there still are people who love books and reading and where one rarely finds the atmosphere of an Internet arcade cum rec center. It's not all as bad as your library. The grass really can be greener. Not much greener, certainly, but what do you expect.
"Advice ...? :( You're all scaring me!"
I'm all out of advice. It's up to you, kind readers, to share your wisdom.
For example, I rarely address the plight of the non-professional library worker, though more through ignorance than negligence. I work with many non-professional staff, but I don't tend to think of them any differently than the professional staff. In the immortal words of Depeche Mode, people are people. I know in some libraries there is a more rigid class structure than I'm used to, and a lot of ill treatment by both the library patrons and the so-called professional librarians, but I'm not the one to address that. There should be a blog called Annoyed Library Worker for that, and I'd be happy to add it to the blogroll.
Once I began addressing library school and folks began commenting one way or another on the experience, I should have expected some library school students to read, and, as you all know, I'm happy to dispense advice as if it were water, murky and bilious water perhaps, but still water. My previous advice still stands: get out now and save yourselves! Despite my advice, people keep entering library school, no doubt attracted by the ALA's Top Ten Reasons to Be a Librarian.
So here's the query, to which I'll respond in parts. Please feel free to advise this student as well. Some of you seem to think I'm too harsh and bitter and not perky or constructive enough. Here's your chance to set the record straight for this student. I'm going try to be perkier and more constructive than usual as well. We have to be gentle with the students, because we need them to graduate and get jobs so they can support us in our dotage at the old librarians' home.
"Over the past week I've been reading the AL's blog and have been horrified of what I've read! I'm currently in the process of wrapping up my first quarter in an MLS program and am feeling very doubtful about my career decision after having read all of your comments."
That's understandable. I've been a librarian for years and am still feeling doubtful about my career decision. Remember, if you're able to get a job, you won't have to work very hard. The expectations are low in every area, from performance to fashion. You won't get paid much, but you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you're saving the world one library card at a time. No amount of money in the world could replace that feeling.
"Of course, I'm not founding my fears on the comments of strangers alone, as I've been working a VERY part-time student assistant position at my local public library and have, on more than one occasion, referred to our fine institution as nothing more than a glorified Blockbuster. The attitude of patrons can only be described as demanding and cruel, as they treat us library workers as if we were sub-human scum."
Your institution probably is a glorified Blockbuster, but in this you are not alone. That's how the librarians of the future prefer it, so get used to it. As for being treated as sub-human scum by the patrons, this should change after you become a genuine professional librarian. Then you'll be treated as ordinary human scum, which is much better. No, I shouldn't say that. It must depend on the library, because I've never been treated as scum by library patrons, only by some of my colleagues.
"I realize that no career is going to be a picnic, and this is, after all, a public service position, but I'm beginning to feel that I am truly squandering my money on a degree that will leave me working for a mere $6 an hour, which is what all non-salaried staff at my library currently makes. It's very discouraging to hear employees that have been with the library for 4-5+ years complain about not even having the money for routine car repairs or clothes. How will I pay back these student loans if I can't even afford an oil change?"
Hmmm, the $6/hour does sound low, but surely the professional librarians get paid much more, perhaps even as much as $12/hour! How will you pay back the student loans? That's a different question. My advice is, don't take out any more loans, because you'll probably still be paying them back out of your Social Security. Don't borrow money for library school. Don't pay any outlandish tuition for library school. If you can't go cheaply in-state or get some sort of assistantship or get your employer to pay for it, think about doing something else. On the plus side, you might not even be able to afford a car, so worrying about an oil change is a sign that you're a hopeful person. Hopefulness goes a long way, except in a car with no oil.
"In my heart I'm clinging to the idea of working in the libraries because of my love for books (I know, I know ...it's stupid) and sharing that love with others. However, even the patrons that DO use the library for reading resources are checking out "light romances" and popular fiction ...basically, GARBAGE."
This warms the cockles of my heart, and there's nothing I like more than hot cockles. If you love books and reading and think most pop fiction is garbage, it definitely sounds like you're in the wrong place. The public library is the place to get pop fiction garbage and DVDs. Add Internet porn and video games, and you have the raison d'etre of the library. You should set your sights on an academic library, where there still are people who love books and reading and where one rarely finds the atmosphere of an Internet arcade cum rec center. It's not all as bad as your library. The grass really can be greener. Not much greener, certainly, but what do you expect.
"Advice ...? :( You're all scaring me!"
I'm all out of advice. It's up to you, kind readers, to share your wisdom.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Library School is Fun!
Some of you out there think playing videogames and hosting dance parties in the library make the library "fun" so that the illiterate kiddies who'd normally never come near the library will show up. (One might ask what difference does it make if they show up, but that's another question.) Now someone has the great idea to make library schools "fun" as well, to make sure that the library school students won't get to bored with all this "education."
If you're reading this blog, there's a good chance that you consider(ed) library school to be tedious and something of an intellectual joke. Library school is boring. We all know that. I think library school could be made less boring by making it more rigorous, in keeping with real graduate programs. But the majority in this, as everything prevails, and we know that can never happen. It'll always be library "science," so why don't we put some fun into it? Thanks should go to Dr. Webtamer, who's putting the FUN into library school!
The Shifted Librarian writes: "I love that my friend, the newly minted Dr. Stephens [i.e., Dr. Webtamer], devoted one of his LIS class nights to gaming. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help out, but it sounds like the students did quite well on their own. I would love to see more LIS courses playing and exploring like this, helping the students form their own opinions."
Yep, me too. I'd love to see more so-called graduate school classes devoted to people sitting around playing videogames, you know, so the students can "form their own opinions." Forming opinions--that sounds almost educational! But who cares if it's educational, it's fun! Library school wasn't particularly educational before, so it's not like spending an entire class playing videogames is dumbing down the standard LIS curriculum.
Forming opinions is, as I noted, almost educational. Perhaps I didn't need this class, though, because I've already formed an opinion. I wouldn't want to pay money for a graduate school class and then sit around playing videogames, but that's just me. If this thing absolutely has to be done, then it might be appropriate for a homework assignment (which would be a typically easy and intellectually vacuous library school homework assignment), but I couldn't tolerate it in a class. Is this what graduate school seminars have become? But I know the problem. I just don't like fun.
I've written before that my suspicion that library school was an intellectual joke was confirmed when I was asked to make a poster presentation, which showed me how library school was like the third grade. At least with the poster I was supposed to convey information. If I had been subjected to gaming during class in library school, I'd have been very tempted to sue the university for breach of promise. Graduate programs in universities aren't supposed to have classes where people sit around and play videogames. Or at least I thought so. Apparently I'm wrong. Always remember, it's not graduate school, it's library school, and with a little more of this it could be library FUN school.
I think we've reached the nadir of library "education," the point at which we've given up any pretense of intellectual endeavor, but that's okay. We should embrace this diversity. Library science isn't much of an intellectual endeavor anyway, so we might as well have FUN doing it. You can't really have a graduate "education" worthy of the name when you teach classes in storytelling and pop-up books. It was always my hope that there was some possibility of intellectual engagement in a program that billed itself as a graduate school, but intellectual pursuits are so elitist. Better just to play games, because apparently everyone in the world wants librarians to play games and host parties.
Get away from training people to entertain the kiddies, and the rest of the program has at least the possibility of something remotely resembling graduate education, right? Absolutely not, so let's rejoice that someone has seen the light, and offer more classes on "library 2.0 and social networking." I think we can now see the intellectual content of library 2.0. I haven't been hearing much from the twopointopians lately, and now I suspect it's because they've been playing videogames, apparently an important part of both library 2.0 and social networking.
Shifted also quotes from a couple of blogs related to the class. One student writes: "How do you make your college-age son jealous? Tell him you played Guitar Hero… in school…for a class…while the teacher was there." There's another way of looking at that. What if you're a young student and your parents are paying for all or part of your "graduate education"? How do you make your parents happy? Tell them you played Guitar Hero . . . in school . . . for a class . . . while the teacher was there. Or when you groan while paying back that $25,000 in student loans (and that day will come), just remember how much fun library school was, when you got to sit around in class and play Guitar Hero . . . in school . . . for a class . . . while the teacher was there. Education 2.0 in action, baby!
What's better than to pay for a course where you get to sit around and play videogames? It might seem like you're just wasting your money, but remember, this is library "education." It's not like "Libraries, Society, and You" has much intellectual content anyway. Sit through this stuff and you'll have an intellectually bankrupt "graduate" degree that might get you a mediocre library job somewhere if you're lucky. But after all, what do you expect of a degree where you sit around in class playing videogames?
If we just admit that library school is an intellectual joke, then libraries can also benefit. Libraries should do themselves a financial favor. If library school is to teach you how to play videogames and libraries are there to host dance parties and bring in the kiddies, forget these "educated" librarians. Libraries don't need them for this kind of work. This stuff doesn't require a master's degree, or even a college degree. Cataloging? Not necessary if everything's online. Reference? Are you kidding? We've got Google, what do we need with reference librarians.
The salvation of libraries is videogaming and parties, and we don't need librarians for that. Hire some smart teens for $12/hour to host dance parties and play videogames and troubleshoot the computers and check out the occasional DVD. Plus, they already know how to play videogames and dance. They wouldn't have to waste time in class learning these things. The teens are motivated and self-directed and they play games on their own. They'd probably do just as good a job as the librarians and the libraries wouldn't have to pay extra for the so-called master's degree. That sounds like the best thing for the "customers," and that's what we're really all about.
If you're reading this blog, there's a good chance that you consider(ed) library school to be tedious and something of an intellectual joke. Library school is boring. We all know that. I think library school could be made less boring by making it more rigorous, in keeping with real graduate programs. But the majority in this, as everything prevails, and we know that can never happen. It'll always be library "science," so why don't we put some fun into it? Thanks should go to Dr. Webtamer, who's putting the FUN into library school!
The Shifted Librarian writes: "I love that my friend, the newly minted Dr. Stephens [i.e., Dr. Webtamer], devoted one of his LIS class nights to gaming. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help out, but it sounds like the students did quite well on their own. I would love to see more LIS courses playing and exploring like this, helping the students form their own opinions."
Yep, me too. I'd love to see more so-called graduate school classes devoted to people sitting around playing videogames, you know, so the students can "form their own opinions." Forming opinions--that sounds almost educational! But who cares if it's educational, it's fun! Library school wasn't particularly educational before, so it's not like spending an entire class playing videogames is dumbing down the standard LIS curriculum.
Forming opinions is, as I noted, almost educational. Perhaps I didn't need this class, though, because I've already formed an opinion. I wouldn't want to pay money for a graduate school class and then sit around playing videogames, but that's just me. If this thing absolutely has to be done, then it might be appropriate for a homework assignment (which would be a typically easy and intellectually vacuous library school homework assignment), but I couldn't tolerate it in a class. Is this what graduate school seminars have become? But I know the problem. I just don't like fun.
I've written before that my suspicion that library school was an intellectual joke was confirmed when I was asked to make a poster presentation, which showed me how library school was like the third grade. At least with the poster I was supposed to convey information. If I had been subjected to gaming during class in library school, I'd have been very tempted to sue the university for breach of promise. Graduate programs in universities aren't supposed to have classes where people sit around and play videogames. Or at least I thought so. Apparently I'm wrong. Always remember, it's not graduate school, it's library school, and with a little more of this it could be library FUN school.
I think we've reached the nadir of library "education," the point at which we've given up any pretense of intellectual endeavor, but that's okay. We should embrace this diversity. Library science isn't much of an intellectual endeavor anyway, so we might as well have FUN doing it. You can't really have a graduate "education" worthy of the name when you teach classes in storytelling and pop-up books. It was always my hope that there was some possibility of intellectual engagement in a program that billed itself as a graduate school, but intellectual pursuits are so elitist. Better just to play games, because apparently everyone in the world wants librarians to play games and host parties.
Get away from training people to entertain the kiddies, and the rest of the program has at least the possibility of something remotely resembling graduate education, right? Absolutely not, so let's rejoice that someone has seen the light, and offer more classes on "library 2.0 and social networking." I think we can now see the intellectual content of library 2.0. I haven't been hearing much from the twopointopians lately, and now I suspect it's because they've been playing videogames, apparently an important part of both library 2.0 and social networking.
Shifted also quotes from a couple of blogs related to the class. One student writes: "How do you make your college-age son jealous? Tell him you played Guitar Hero… in school…for a class…while the teacher was there." There's another way of looking at that. What if you're a young student and your parents are paying for all or part of your "graduate education"? How do you make your parents happy? Tell them you played Guitar Hero . . . in school . . . for a class . . . while the teacher was there. Or when you groan while paying back that $25,000 in student loans (and that day will come), just remember how much fun library school was, when you got to sit around in class and play Guitar Hero . . . in school . . . for a class . . . while the teacher was there. Education 2.0 in action, baby!
What's better than to pay for a course where you get to sit around and play videogames? It might seem like you're just wasting your money, but remember, this is library "education." It's not like "Libraries, Society, and You" has much intellectual content anyway. Sit through this stuff and you'll have an intellectually bankrupt "graduate" degree that might get you a mediocre library job somewhere if you're lucky. But after all, what do you expect of a degree where you sit around in class playing videogames?
If we just admit that library school is an intellectual joke, then libraries can also benefit. Libraries should do themselves a financial favor. If library school is to teach you how to play videogames and libraries are there to host dance parties and bring in the kiddies, forget these "educated" librarians. Libraries don't need them for this kind of work. This stuff doesn't require a master's degree, or even a college degree. Cataloging? Not necessary if everything's online. Reference? Are you kidding? We've got Google, what do we need with reference librarians.
The salvation of libraries is videogaming and parties, and we don't need librarians for that. Hire some smart teens for $12/hour to host dance parties and play videogames and troubleshoot the computers and check out the occasional DVD. Plus, they already know how to play videogames and dance. They wouldn't have to waste time in class learning these things. The teens are motivated and self-directed and they play games on their own. They'd probably do just as good a job as the librarians and the libraries wouldn't have to pay extra for the so-called master's degree. That sounds like the best thing for the "customers," and that's what we're really all about.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Golden Age of Library Education
I was so overwhelmed by the sheer mediocrity of the August American Libraries and its "Manifesto for Our Times" that I missed some of the other oddities, and I thank a kind reader for bringing this one to my attention. When trying to find something to blog about, the AL often relies on the kindness of strangers.
On page 8 of the August issue of that august monthly I like to think of at the "other AL," one will find a letter to the editor from one Thomas W. Leonhardt, who serves on the ALA Committee on Accreditation. He's not happy with any talk about library school being an intellectual joke, or at least not any talk about it being inadequate in any way. He begins his letter:
"Exploring LIS Education the notion that lis education and ALA's Committee on Accreditation (COA) somehow fail to meet the needs of students and employers is unfortunate and I can find no evidence to support that view. The anecdotes about ill-prepared graduates that have been shared at education forums and elsewhere to support the notion that lis education is in crisis indicate instead faulty hiring practices or insufficient employee-development practices."
As a member of COA, he'd probably have to write something like that. That's one reason I write under a pseudonym. If everyone found out I'm really an ALA councilor or toil away in the Washington office of the ALA, then it wouldn't be nearly as much fun.
To reverse his statement, I wonder if he can find much evidence that LIS education is in fact meeting the needs of students and employers, but that's another issue. LIS education is certainly meeting one need -- the need of library schools to suck a lot of money out of people for a tedious degree whose intellectual content could often probably be conveyed with a longish email. But that's neither here nor there. The good news is that all the anecdotal evidence, conveniently for Leonhardt, doesn't really count as evidence at all, except as evidence of the "faulty hiring practices" and other flaws of the folks complaining about LIS education.
Fortunately, we have Mr. Leonhardt to set us straight and give us hope for the future. "As I move toward retirement, I am optimistic about the future of the profession I have worked in for more than 30 years. We are not in danger of running out of good librarians and we are not in danger of running out of library schools. " I guess I'd have to agree with him on both points. At least he acknowledges that there is no librarian shortage. Only the ALA and the administrations of prospective library schools seem to think we're running out of library schools. Do we really need any more of these things? My goodness, the low quality of many of the ones in existence would indicate that if anything we have too many.
Because of Mr. Leonhardt's optimism not only can we be sanguine about the future, but also about the present. When I survey the offerings of library schools, I'm always impressed by the incoherence of what passes for education in the profession, an incoherence shared by the profession itself. What a jumble of inanities. But Leonhardt thinks differently: "We may actually be in a new golden age of library education but are too close to the issue to recognize it."
A "new golden age of library education." Wow! Now I'm excited. But before I wet my pants with enthusiasm, let's examine this statement carefully. A new golden age implies that there was some previous golden age of library education. Do we have any evidence at all for that? Even if we eliminate the "new," we still have the odd notion that this is a golden age of library education. If for some reason this statement is true, and I seriously doubt it, then the fact that library education is in a Golden Age is only true relative to the Dung and Mold Ages which preceded it. But we're certainly in a golden age of library propaganda.
On page 8 of the August issue of that august monthly I like to think of at the "other AL," one will find a letter to the editor from one Thomas W. Leonhardt, who serves on the ALA Committee on Accreditation. He's not happy with any talk about library school being an intellectual joke, or at least not any talk about it being inadequate in any way. He begins his letter:
"Exploring LIS Education the notion that lis education and ALA's Committee on Accreditation (COA) somehow fail to meet the needs of students and employers is unfortunate and I can find no evidence to support that view. The anecdotes about ill-prepared graduates that have been shared at education forums and elsewhere to support the notion that lis education is in crisis indicate instead faulty hiring practices or insufficient employee-development practices."
As a member of COA, he'd probably have to write something like that. That's one reason I write under a pseudonym. If everyone found out I'm really an ALA councilor or toil away in the Washington office of the ALA, then it wouldn't be nearly as much fun.
To reverse his statement, I wonder if he can find much evidence that LIS education is in fact meeting the needs of students and employers, but that's another issue. LIS education is certainly meeting one need -- the need of library schools to suck a lot of money out of people for a tedious degree whose intellectual content could often probably be conveyed with a longish email. But that's neither here nor there. The good news is that all the anecdotal evidence, conveniently for Leonhardt, doesn't really count as evidence at all, except as evidence of the "faulty hiring practices" and other flaws of the folks complaining about LIS education.
Fortunately, we have Mr. Leonhardt to set us straight and give us hope for the future. "As I move toward retirement, I am optimistic about the future of the profession I have worked in for more than 30 years. We are not in danger of running out of good librarians and we are not in danger of running out of library schools. " I guess I'd have to agree with him on both points. At least he acknowledges that there is no librarian shortage. Only the ALA and the administrations of prospective library schools seem to think we're running out of library schools. Do we really need any more of these things? My goodness, the low quality of many of the ones in existence would indicate that if anything we have too many.
Because of Mr. Leonhardt's optimism not only can we be sanguine about the future, but also about the present. When I survey the offerings of library schools, I'm always impressed by the incoherence of what passes for education in the profession, an incoherence shared by the profession itself. What a jumble of inanities. But Leonhardt thinks differently: "We may actually be in a new golden age of library education but are too close to the issue to recognize it."
A "new golden age of library education." Wow! Now I'm excited. But before I wet my pants with enthusiasm, let's examine this statement carefully. A new golden age implies that there was some previous golden age of library education. Do we have any evidence at all for that? Even if we eliminate the "new," we still have the odd notion that this is a golden age of library education. If for some reason this statement is true, and I seriously doubt it, then the fact that library education is in a Golden Age is only true relative to the Dung and Mold Ages which preceded it. But we're certainly in a golden age of library propaganda.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Why Bother?
For the past few months I've been learning a lot more about how the other half lives, the other half in this case being all those library school graduates who can't seem to find jobs. That there are what seem to be reasonably intelligent people with pulses who can't find library jobs surprised me. I had a decent job well before library school graduation, as did all my friends from library school. The boring little world of librarianship was my oyster.
To be honest, I did know one person in library school who didn't get a job, but he was what we might charitably call a creepy freak (or perhaps a freaky creep, whichever is more charitable), the sort of person who would never make it through a professional interview because no one on the search committee would be able to face the prospect of sitting across from him in meetings for the next 30 years, and everyone would know it'd be 30 years, because he would never leave. Last I heard he was temping in his home state of [insert some southwestern state I can't remember].
Perhaps I've just been fortunate. It's true that I'm one of the most successful and respected librarians of my generation, but then I have an abundance of intelligence, education, good looks, and charm. Success and respect are my rightful due. But I realize now that not everyone has it as easy as I do, and, in the words of a former POTUS, I feel your pain. It is in recognition of the poor and beaten down that I now wear the black. (Before I wore the black because I look good in it and it goes with everything.)
But as I read the tales of LIS graduates taking months or years to find even their first professional library job, especially those graduates who are desperately searching for public library jobs, I have in all honesty to ask--why bother?
Sure I have a low stress, well paying library job at a decent university, where I spend my days leisurely reading books and blogs and reclining on my leather sofa, but those jobs are hard to come by. Plenty of academic libraries are awful places to work at. And from what I can tell from reading the blogs by public librarians, a lot of public libraries are enervating and mind-numbing places to work. So what's the attraction?
I got into librarianship because I didn't have anything better to do at the time. Clearly, a juicy tenure track professorship at a tolerable school wasn't coming my way, so why not get a cheap degree that would get me a job. That's what I thought. And compared to my friends who managed to struggle onto the tenure track after years of itinerant teaching, I make more money and have a lot more choice over where I work. Unlike them, I actually get to choose which part of the country I live in and what sort of school I work at. And I don't have to work as hard. The only drawback is that I don't get my summers off. It's a small price to pay.
But why do other people bother? What's the attraction? Especially for people who spend lots of money for library school, or who don't have wide choices of where to work. I read on one list someone speculating about whether she should spend $40K for a library degree from Pitt. My answer would have been a resounding NO. Why would anyone spend that kind of money on an MLS? I'm puzzled as to why anyone would spend more than a nominal sum to go to library school, or why anyone would go out of their way to get an MLS. Why bother?
It can't be because library jobs are plentiful and pay well. There do seem to be plenty of disagreeable and unattractive library jobs around, but they don't pay well and you have to live in dreadful places. It can't be the prestige associated with being a librarian. I know some librarians gush about how great it is to be a librarian, but they always sound like they're trying to persuade themselves that they aren't big losers.
Is it insanity? Are these people just crazy? They don't seem crazy, but one never knows. Based on some of my colleagues over the years, sanity was never a requirement for entering the profession. But surely that couldn't explain them all.
Is it that they want to revolutionize the world, one library card at a time? It's not going to happen. Some librarians and pseudo-librarians seem to think the purpose of librarianship is to give them an outlet for their politics, but those folks are just an irrelevant nuisance to the rest of us.
So it's not the money. It's not the prestige. It's not the working conditions. It's not insanity. So what is it that drives so many people? Why would people pay lots of money to get a ridiculously easy graduate degree, then work hard to get tedious, low paying jobs. Why bother? Is there nothing else that you can do? Or are these really the top reasons to become a librarian?
It's too late for me, but you can still save yourselves.
To be honest, I did know one person in library school who didn't get a job, but he was what we might charitably call a creepy freak (or perhaps a freaky creep, whichever is more charitable), the sort of person who would never make it through a professional interview because no one on the search committee would be able to face the prospect of sitting across from him in meetings for the next 30 years, and everyone would know it'd be 30 years, because he would never leave. Last I heard he was temping in his home state of [insert some southwestern state I can't remember].
Perhaps I've just been fortunate. It's true that I'm one of the most successful and respected librarians of my generation, but then I have an abundance of intelligence, education, good looks, and charm. Success and respect are my rightful due. But I realize now that not everyone has it as easy as I do, and, in the words of a former POTUS, I feel your pain. It is in recognition of the poor and beaten down that I now wear the black. (Before I wore the black because I look good in it and it goes with everything.)
But as I read the tales of LIS graduates taking months or years to find even their first professional library job, especially those graduates who are desperately searching for public library jobs, I have in all honesty to ask--why bother?
Sure I have a low stress, well paying library job at a decent university, where I spend my days leisurely reading books and blogs and reclining on my leather sofa, but those jobs are hard to come by. Plenty of academic libraries are awful places to work at. And from what I can tell from reading the blogs by public librarians, a lot of public libraries are enervating and mind-numbing places to work. So what's the attraction?
I got into librarianship because I didn't have anything better to do at the time. Clearly, a juicy tenure track professorship at a tolerable school wasn't coming my way, so why not get a cheap degree that would get me a job. That's what I thought. And compared to my friends who managed to struggle onto the tenure track after years of itinerant teaching, I make more money and have a lot more choice over where I work. Unlike them, I actually get to choose which part of the country I live in and what sort of school I work at. And I don't have to work as hard. The only drawback is that I don't get my summers off. It's a small price to pay.
But why do other people bother? What's the attraction? Especially for people who spend lots of money for library school, or who don't have wide choices of where to work. I read on one list someone speculating about whether she should spend $40K for a library degree from Pitt. My answer would have been a resounding NO. Why would anyone spend that kind of money on an MLS? I'm puzzled as to why anyone would spend more than a nominal sum to go to library school, or why anyone would go out of their way to get an MLS. Why bother?
It can't be because library jobs are plentiful and pay well. There do seem to be plenty of disagreeable and unattractive library jobs around, but they don't pay well and you have to live in dreadful places. It can't be the prestige associated with being a librarian. I know some librarians gush about how great it is to be a librarian, but they always sound like they're trying to persuade themselves that they aren't big losers.
Is it insanity? Are these people just crazy? They don't seem crazy, but one never knows. Based on some of my colleagues over the years, sanity was never a requirement for entering the profession. But surely that couldn't explain them all.
Is it that they want to revolutionize the world, one library card at a time? It's not going to happen. Some librarians and pseudo-librarians seem to think the purpose of librarianship is to give them an outlet for their politics, but those folks are just an irrelevant nuisance to the rest of us.
So it's not the money. It's not the prestige. It's not the working conditions. It's not insanity. So what is it that drives so many people? Why would people pay lots of money to get a ridiculously easy graduate degree, then work hard to get tedious, low paying jobs. Why bother? Is there nothing else that you can do? Or are these really the top reasons to become a librarian?
It's too late for me, but you can still save yourselves.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Jobs and Experience and Stuff
I want to address what I consider an open secret about library jobs, what some commenters have referred to as the "Catch-22" of entry level jobs. Libraries want people with library experience, even for entry level jobs. Library schools don't necessarily give people any library experience. The people who graduate from library school with no library experience may have a hard time finding a job. And the people who go straight from college to library school, then graduate with no work experience of any kind, are practically doomed to the worst low-paying library jobs around, if they're lucky enough to find one.
With many academic fields, no one expects a master's degree to prepare them for anything. Anyone getting a master's degree in history or literature or sociology isn't expecting to base a career on that. They expect to spend some time furthering their education. Often these people started their degrees thinking they would go on for a PhD and become a professor, only they never finished for whatever reason. They've often been educated, but not trained. Libraries like people who are both.
But with an MLS, people expect that if they get the degree, then it will mean something. That's what the ALA propaganda tells them. They'll be qualified for at least some of those jobs that require an "ALA-accredited MLS." But if all they have is an MLS and no library or work experience, then they're not qualified. And we librarians all know they're not. The library professors probably know they're not. In the midst of all their recruitment drives for the profession, the folks at the ALA probably know it, too. Library schools need students, because they need tuition dollars. It's not in the interest of the ALA or of library schools to try to gauge how many actual library school graduates the country needs every year. There is no rational plan to staff libraries. There's the rational plan to bring in tuition dollars. And for those who become librarians, to get them to join the ALA and send in their dues.
I'm used to this, because I didn't come into library school as a naive youngster. I was familiar with lots of humanities graduate programs at lots of universities around the country that continued to enroll way too many students every year because they needed the graduate students to teach the introductory classes on campus. The graduate students were naive enough to go to graduate school thinking their acceptance meant they were making the first step to a professorship. Their department neglected to tell them it let in 25 students for every one that got a job, because it needed the bodies to teach, and it didn't have the moral courage to close up shop when it was obvious its graduates weren't getting jobs.
Library schools are no different, except the master's level students don't teach. In practice this means they don't even get that experience, plus they often have to pay tuition. At least if you're in another graduate program and have to teach, you get paid a bit and you can always rationalize it by saying you're planning to become a teacher. This is training for the future professorship. Turns out it's also future training for a lot of academic librarians, too; they just don't know it at the time.
It's true that other experience besides library experience can also count. I know librarians who have gotten their jobs because of their teaching experience, or their legal experience, or their management experience. They had done other things, and librarianship was a second career. I've also known people who've gotten jobs because they had a PhD and thus an assumed knowledge of an academic field useful for their library job.
But if you don't have any library or other significant work experience, or significant education in addition to the MLS, and you graduate from library school, then you probably will have a difficult time getting a job. Nobody wants you. Nobody can afford to take a chance on you if they can find someone with experience. You'll start at the very bottom of the library food chain, at the libraries that are so bad or so poor that people with any experience leave the first chance they get. That job will be your internship. Make the most of it.
So the open secret is that if you go to library school with no experience, you need to get some somehow. It's not a secret now, because I've told you.
But who's going to tell those people considering library school that if their prospective school doesn't offer extensive practicums or internships or graduate assistantships working in libraries, then they should choose another school. If their school only offers them classes, but doesn't ensure they leave with practical experience, then they should choose another library school. It sure won't be the ALA. And it won't be the library school promotional literature. They'll be the last to tell you an MLS alone is almost worthless.
Obviously, I'm telling them now, but I'm a voice crying in the wilderness. By the time the frustrated people get to the AL, they're usually already in school or already librarians, and then they already know the worst.
With many academic fields, no one expects a master's degree to prepare them for anything. Anyone getting a master's degree in history or literature or sociology isn't expecting to base a career on that. They expect to spend some time furthering their education. Often these people started their degrees thinking they would go on for a PhD and become a professor, only they never finished for whatever reason. They've often been educated, but not trained. Libraries like people who are both.
But with an MLS, people expect that if they get the degree, then it will mean something. That's what the ALA propaganda tells them. They'll be qualified for at least some of those jobs that require an "ALA-accredited MLS." But if all they have is an MLS and no library or work experience, then they're not qualified. And we librarians all know they're not. The library professors probably know they're not. In the midst of all their recruitment drives for the profession, the folks at the ALA probably know it, too. Library schools need students, because they need tuition dollars. It's not in the interest of the ALA or of library schools to try to gauge how many actual library school graduates the country needs every year. There is no rational plan to staff libraries. There's the rational plan to bring in tuition dollars. And for those who become librarians, to get them to join the ALA and send in their dues.
I'm used to this, because I didn't come into library school as a naive youngster. I was familiar with lots of humanities graduate programs at lots of universities around the country that continued to enroll way too many students every year because they needed the graduate students to teach the introductory classes on campus. The graduate students were naive enough to go to graduate school thinking their acceptance meant they were making the first step to a professorship. Their department neglected to tell them it let in 25 students for every one that got a job, because it needed the bodies to teach, and it didn't have the moral courage to close up shop when it was obvious its graduates weren't getting jobs.
Library schools are no different, except the master's level students don't teach. In practice this means they don't even get that experience, plus they often have to pay tuition. At least if you're in another graduate program and have to teach, you get paid a bit and you can always rationalize it by saying you're planning to become a teacher. This is training for the future professorship. Turns out it's also future training for a lot of academic librarians, too; they just don't know it at the time.
It's true that other experience besides library experience can also count. I know librarians who have gotten their jobs because of their teaching experience, or their legal experience, or their management experience. They had done other things, and librarianship was a second career. I've also known people who've gotten jobs because they had a PhD and thus an assumed knowledge of an academic field useful for their library job.
But if you don't have any library or other significant work experience, or significant education in addition to the MLS, and you graduate from library school, then you probably will have a difficult time getting a job. Nobody wants you. Nobody can afford to take a chance on you if they can find someone with experience. You'll start at the very bottom of the library food chain, at the libraries that are so bad or so poor that people with any experience leave the first chance they get. That job will be your internship. Make the most of it.
So the open secret is that if you go to library school with no experience, you need to get some somehow. It's not a secret now, because I've told you.
But who's going to tell those people considering library school that if their prospective school doesn't offer extensive practicums or internships or graduate assistantships working in libraries, then they should choose another school. If their school only offers them classes, but doesn't ensure they leave with practical experience, then they should choose another library school. It sure won't be the ALA. And it won't be the library school promotional literature. They'll be the last to tell you an MLS alone is almost worthless.
Obviously, I'm telling them now, but I'm a voice crying in the wilderness. By the time the frustrated people get to the AL, they're usually already in school or already librarians, and then they already know the worst.
Monday, April 09, 2007
More Theory and Practice
A library school professor posted a comment late last week to my "Theory and Practice" post, and I wanted to respond to it. The full comment is definitely worth reading, but I'm going to quote only part of it. After noting that s/he (I hate that construction, but I don't know the gender of the commenter) is a library school professor but has been a librarian, s/he says:
"Many of us getting PhDs do so after living with the real-life frustrations of librarianship: we got tired of encountering the same problems year after year (the "practice" part of the equation) without having a chance to figure out why the problems were happening (which is the "theory" part of the equation)."
I'm not sure I understand.
I can certainly understand preferring to be a professor than a librarian, if nothing else to get your summers off. I wouldn't want to be a professor of library science, but I still understand the urge for some people.
And I can certainly understand being a frustrated librarian. I got frustrated once in my job, and it was a darned unpleasant experience.
But there is one thing I don't understand--what problems are we talking about? I understand the frustration of encountering the same problems year after year, but the problems I encounter aren't the sort that can be solved by library school professors. I've never encountered any problems in practice that I couldn't reflect on and solve if they were solvable. A good liberal education seems to me superior to any library "science" as preparation for librarianship. Can someone give me some examples of practical problems that the theorizing of "library scientists" has solved? As far as I can tell, library science just isn't that hard. Perhaps I've led a sheltered librarian's life, but I've yet to encounter any library science theory that was at all difficult. That's why it's library science and not rocket science. What does the special caste of "library scientists" have to offer practicing librarians that they can't just theorize for themselves?
I'm especially interested in any LIS theory that is specific to librarianship, which would leave out computer science and management theories. (In general, leaving out management theories would be an especial boon to the profession.)
A friend of mine--another excellent librarian-- and I were discussing my "Theory and Practice" post, particularly the comment asking what library school professors could do. Her advice was to stop being so pompous.
I was struck by that comment because of an experience I had at a meeting a couple of years ago. I was with a mixed group of librarians and "library educators" as they called themselves. (I wanted to point out to them that real professors don't call themselves "educators." That's what primary and secondary school teachers sometimes call themselves when they get pretentious and can't just stick with the perfectly respectable "teacher.") What struck me most was that the librarians were for the most part very smart and highly educated with years of experience in good research libraries. They knew their trade and could speak intelligently about it. The "library educators" were for the most part rather dim and from some really crappy library schools (one of which I'm almost positive couldn't even manage ALA-accreditation). Yet these so-called "educators" seemed to consider themselves a special caste superior to us mere librarians, ironic considering that almost nothing they said was worth saying. The only thing that kept me from laughing out loud and mocking them to their face was focusing on the irony between the regard they had for themselves and the contempt the rest of us had for them. People who aren't very bright or educated should just keep their mouths shut around bright and educated people.
My commenter notes that "readers of this blog should be aware that there has been a critical shortage of LIS PhDs (lessening in the past few years); in 2001 I was told at one major conference that there were 4 faculty positions available for every PhD in the room. This clearly will affect who is hired and by whom."
Long time readers will certainly be aware, as I have addressed the issue before. Four positions for every PhD? That certainly says something about the profession. Meaning no disrespect to those very intelligent and educated LIS professors out there (and I know several), but what it says to me is that the field isn't very attractive, and that the standards must necessarily be low if the jobs are to be filled. It means that anybody who can stumble through the PhD work can land a job as a professor.
This certainly explains my meeting with the pompous and dull-witted "library educators" who laughably thought the rest of us would take them seriously, and it explains some of my experiences in library school with a couple of intellectually insecure dullards who had managed to become "professors," but seemed somehow to sense that I wasn't impressed by their LIS PhDs.
I don't consider this professor shortage to be a problem, except insofar as it lets dullards slip through and become professors. Rather, I'm sure it's a problem for the profession of library professoring, because it means more teaching for them. I don't consider it a problem for the profession of librarianship because I still don't think that LIS professors have very much to offer to librarians.
No, now I'm starting to get rude. I don't want to be rude, I want some answers. I'm willing to be proved wrong. Which part of this library science theory is so hard to grasp? What specifically have library school professors contributed that couldn't have been contributed by librarians? I suspect that I'm smarter than the average librarian, but I know a lot of really smart librarians who have no trouble solving their own problems and theorizing from their own practice, and they don't even have their summers off to sit around and think all these hard library theory thoughts.
I'm fully prepared to admit that library scientists contribute to some academic endeavor and to the scholarly record in their field, but their field isn't my field. What I want to know is, what do you do for librarianship that I couldn't do myself?
"Many of us getting PhDs do so after living with the real-life frustrations of librarianship: we got tired of encountering the same problems year after year (the "practice" part of the equation) without having a chance to figure out why the problems were happening (which is the "theory" part of the equation)."
I'm not sure I understand.
I can certainly understand preferring to be a professor than a librarian, if nothing else to get your summers off. I wouldn't want to be a professor of library science, but I still understand the urge for some people.
And I can certainly understand being a frustrated librarian. I got frustrated once in my job, and it was a darned unpleasant experience.
But there is one thing I don't understand--what problems are we talking about? I understand the frustration of encountering the same problems year after year, but the problems I encounter aren't the sort that can be solved by library school professors. I've never encountered any problems in practice that I couldn't reflect on and solve if they were solvable. A good liberal education seems to me superior to any library "science" as preparation for librarianship. Can someone give me some examples of practical problems that the theorizing of "library scientists" has solved? As far as I can tell, library science just isn't that hard. Perhaps I've led a sheltered librarian's life, but I've yet to encounter any library science theory that was at all difficult. That's why it's library science and not rocket science. What does the special caste of "library scientists" have to offer practicing librarians that they can't just theorize for themselves?
I'm especially interested in any LIS theory that is specific to librarianship, which would leave out computer science and management theories. (In general, leaving out management theories would be an especial boon to the profession.)
A friend of mine--another excellent librarian-- and I were discussing my "Theory and Practice" post, particularly the comment asking what library school professors could do. Her advice was to stop being so pompous.
I was struck by that comment because of an experience I had at a meeting a couple of years ago. I was with a mixed group of librarians and "library educators" as they called themselves. (I wanted to point out to them that real professors don't call themselves "educators." That's what primary and secondary school teachers sometimes call themselves when they get pretentious and can't just stick with the perfectly respectable "teacher.") What struck me most was that the librarians were for the most part very smart and highly educated with years of experience in good research libraries. They knew their trade and could speak intelligently about it. The "library educators" were for the most part rather dim and from some really crappy library schools (one of which I'm almost positive couldn't even manage ALA-accreditation). Yet these so-called "educators" seemed to consider themselves a special caste superior to us mere librarians, ironic considering that almost nothing they said was worth saying. The only thing that kept me from laughing out loud and mocking them to their face was focusing on the irony between the regard they had for themselves and the contempt the rest of us had for them. People who aren't very bright or educated should just keep their mouths shut around bright and educated people.
My commenter notes that "readers of this blog should be aware that there has been a critical shortage of LIS PhDs (lessening in the past few years); in 2001 I was told at one major conference that there were 4 faculty positions available for every PhD in the room. This clearly will affect who is hired and by whom."
Long time readers will certainly be aware, as I have addressed the issue before. Four positions for every PhD? That certainly says something about the profession. Meaning no disrespect to those very intelligent and educated LIS professors out there (and I know several), but what it says to me is that the field isn't very attractive, and that the standards must necessarily be low if the jobs are to be filled. It means that anybody who can stumble through the PhD work can land a job as a professor.
This certainly explains my meeting with the pompous and dull-witted "library educators" who laughably thought the rest of us would take them seriously, and it explains some of my experiences in library school with a couple of intellectually insecure dullards who had managed to become "professors," but seemed somehow to sense that I wasn't impressed by their LIS PhDs.
I don't consider this professor shortage to be a problem, except insofar as it lets dullards slip through and become professors. Rather, I'm sure it's a problem for the profession of library professoring, because it means more teaching for them. I don't consider it a problem for the profession of librarianship because I still don't think that LIS professors have very much to offer to librarians.
No, now I'm starting to get rude. I don't want to be rude, I want some answers. I'm willing to be proved wrong. Which part of this library science theory is so hard to grasp? What specifically have library school professors contributed that couldn't have been contributed by librarians? I suspect that I'm smarter than the average librarian, but I know a lot of really smart librarians who have no trouble solving their own problems and theorizing from their own practice, and they don't even have their summers off to sit around and think all these hard library theory thoughts.
I'm fully prepared to admit that library scientists contribute to some academic endeavor and to the scholarly record in their field, but their field isn't my field. What I want to know is, what do you do for librarianship that I couldn't do myself?
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Theory and Practice in Library Education
Library "educators" are in a tough position in some ways. They don't have a natural audience the way scholars in traditional academic fields do, because the MLS especially is a professional rather than an academic degree. That's why it's easier in some schools to find a class in rapid-response informatics or distributed cognition environments than in reference or collection development.
If you're a scholar in an academic field, then theory and practice usually join together. Take history, for example. Academic historians usually write for other academic historians. Obviously there is a broad demand for popular history among educated people, and entire subfields of history that have active non-academic historians (particularly military history and the history of the American Civil War), but historians generally don't write for a popular audience. Here's a recent book from CUP, for example: Capitals of Capital: A History of International Finance Centres, 1780-2005. Considering the press, it's probably a great book, but most likely only specialists and students in economic history will ever read it. Historians are practitioners, and in their field theory and practice are one. Even teaching, the other activity of most historians, is training a new generation of historians, a new generation of practitioners. The scholar is also the practitioner, and what they practice is scholarship.
And obviously this is true of many areas of scholarship. Even in Education, a justly maligned academic field, the professors of education generally might have shoddy research methods and an intellectual laxity strengthened by their stranglehold on state educational licensing boards, but they are at least teachers training teachers.
But what happens when we move to fields where the theoreticians are not also the obvious practitioners, such as in LIS. When I was in library school, I was training to be a librarian, not, God forbid, a library school professor. And without fail, the most useful classes I had were taught by librarians at the university library who adjuncted as LIS professors. Some of the professors were very intelligent and productive and perfectly nice people, and some of them had even at some point been librarians, but it was clear they weren't librarians.
The absolutely worst LIS professor I ever had had never been a librarian, but had gone straight from college through an MLS and LIS PhD program. With his new PhD, he was now a real professor, but he knew nothing about working in a library. It's possible the class I had with him was even his first real class. He was terrible. Not only had he never been a librarian, but he'd never even been a teacher. I was at least ahead of him on that score. Frankly, he wasn't very bright, either, but he was well meaning. As an experienced teacher and scholar who wanted to become a librarian, what was I supposed to learn from this fellow?
A library school professor I know has often complained (and cited some statistics to prove) that librarians don't read the work of library educators. Library educators write mostly for themselves in a vacuum divorced from the practice of librarianship. It only makes sense. Historians write for historians. Economists write for economists. Physicists write for physicists. And LIS professors write for other LIS professors. They do write for practitioners, but their practice is the practice of being LIS professors. It's not the practice of being librarians. It doesn't even have a proper name like historian, economist, or physicist. Librarianist? Informationist?
I've told this library professor that the reason I rarely read any of the scholarly output of LIS faculty is because it has almost nothing to do with my work and I don't find it intellectually interesting. I have wide-ranging intellectual interests in the humanities and social sciences, but LIS isn't one of them. Their concerns are not my concerns. I'm not concerned with what a library school professor has to say, for example, about collection development in a research library. Without being immodest, I think I can say that I know a lot more about the subject than most library school professors. And unlike a lot of librarians, I could actually articulate that knowledge. The same can be said for reference as well, though in reference there are some very knowledgeable professors. I may have a lot to learn about these subjects from excellent and thoughtful practitioners, but I have very little to learn about them from LIS professors.
(I will except from my discussion techie subjects where theory and practice might be more aligned. But programmers aren't running libraries. I will also except from this criticism the occasional LIS professor who writes intelligently on issues of genuine concern for librarians.)
This also helps explain why the bulk of the library literature written by librarians is so dull, even if it's sometimes useful. They don't have the time or the inclination to do good theoretical work; they're writing as librarians for librarians and trying to come up with something useful.
I just looked through the faculty research interests website at a highly ranked library school, and not one professor had an interest in collection development (though a couple had interests in digital collections), and only one had a research interest in reference (and she's actually done some good work). LIS professors just don't find those courses interesting, which is understandable because reference and collection development are practices of librarians, not LIS professors. If I want to build library collections and teach people how to use them, there's little I need to know from LIS professors.
And those academic subjects that I do need to know about, and in fact know something about, have nothing to do with LIS. If I were an LIS bibliographer, then I would need to know what they're doing and keep up with the work in the field. But I'm not and never will be. As a research librarian, I need to know about actual academic subjects, not library science.
I see this as a great divide in library education. The further LIS professors gravitate away from the practice of librarianship, the less they offer to the profession. Academically, this isn't necessarily a problem, since some professors produce excellent work. There are a number of outstanding library historians. But while their work may be interesting historically, it doesn't help me in my practice. There are all sorts of LIS professors who write about exciting topics like human rights and race relations. But while their work might be interesting to people bored by librarianship and excited by politics, it doesn't have anything to do with the practice of librarianship, unless librarianship ceases to be about running libraries and serving library populations and instead becomes an exercise in romantic revolution.
But it does raise the question of what library schools are for? Are they for training librarians? Or are they for LIS professors to expand scholarship on various areas of information that is of little use or interest to librarians? Keep in mind, I'm not saying this work doesn't have scholarly value. I'm only saying it has no value for the practice of librarianship. These are two very different things, and it becomes a problem only when the library schools staffed by library professors are supposed to be training librarians. Isn't that what gets them accredited by the ALA?
Finally, I suppose that's one reason I'm so critical of library school. The professors don't want to teach the mundane subjects that will actually be useful in running libraries, with good reason. They're not librarians, they don't understand librarians, and they couldn't possibly speak with the authority I can on those issues. And they think that their area of LIS scholarship should be interesting for people who want to be librarians. Well, it's not. They teach for LIS scholars, but I don't want to be an LIS scholar. I'd rather be a librarian.
If you're a scholar in an academic field, then theory and practice usually join together. Take history, for example. Academic historians usually write for other academic historians. Obviously there is a broad demand for popular history among educated people, and entire subfields of history that have active non-academic historians (particularly military history and the history of the American Civil War), but historians generally don't write for a popular audience. Here's a recent book from CUP, for example: Capitals of Capital: A History of International Finance Centres, 1780-2005. Considering the press, it's probably a great book, but most likely only specialists and students in economic history will ever read it. Historians are practitioners, and in their field theory and practice are one. Even teaching, the other activity of most historians, is training a new generation of historians, a new generation of practitioners. The scholar is also the practitioner, and what they practice is scholarship.
And obviously this is true of many areas of scholarship. Even in Education, a justly maligned academic field, the professors of education generally might have shoddy research methods and an intellectual laxity strengthened by their stranglehold on state educational licensing boards, but they are at least teachers training teachers.
But what happens when we move to fields where the theoreticians are not also the obvious practitioners, such as in LIS. When I was in library school, I was training to be a librarian, not, God forbid, a library school professor. And without fail, the most useful classes I had were taught by librarians at the university library who adjuncted as LIS professors. Some of the professors were very intelligent and productive and perfectly nice people, and some of them had even at some point been librarians, but it was clear they weren't librarians.
The absolutely worst LIS professor I ever had had never been a librarian, but had gone straight from college through an MLS and LIS PhD program. With his new PhD, he was now a real professor, but he knew nothing about working in a library. It's possible the class I had with him was even his first real class. He was terrible. Not only had he never been a librarian, but he'd never even been a teacher. I was at least ahead of him on that score. Frankly, he wasn't very bright, either, but he was well meaning. As an experienced teacher and scholar who wanted to become a librarian, what was I supposed to learn from this fellow?
A library school professor I know has often complained (and cited some statistics to prove) that librarians don't read the work of library educators. Library educators write mostly for themselves in a vacuum divorced from the practice of librarianship. It only makes sense. Historians write for historians. Economists write for economists. Physicists write for physicists. And LIS professors write for other LIS professors. They do write for practitioners, but their practice is the practice of being LIS professors. It's not the practice of being librarians. It doesn't even have a proper name like historian, economist, or physicist. Librarianist? Informationist?
I've told this library professor that the reason I rarely read any of the scholarly output of LIS faculty is because it has almost nothing to do with my work and I don't find it intellectually interesting. I have wide-ranging intellectual interests in the humanities and social sciences, but LIS isn't one of them. Their concerns are not my concerns. I'm not concerned with what a library school professor has to say, for example, about collection development in a research library. Without being immodest, I think I can say that I know a lot more about the subject than most library school professors. And unlike a lot of librarians, I could actually articulate that knowledge. The same can be said for reference as well, though in reference there are some very knowledgeable professors. I may have a lot to learn about these subjects from excellent and thoughtful practitioners, but I have very little to learn about them from LIS professors.
(I will except from my discussion techie subjects where theory and practice might be more aligned. But programmers aren't running libraries. I will also except from this criticism the occasional LIS professor who writes intelligently on issues of genuine concern for librarians.)
This also helps explain why the bulk of the library literature written by librarians is so dull, even if it's sometimes useful. They don't have the time or the inclination to do good theoretical work; they're writing as librarians for librarians and trying to come up with something useful.
I just looked through the faculty research interests website at a highly ranked library school, and not one professor had an interest in collection development (though a couple had interests in digital collections), and only one had a research interest in reference (and she's actually done some good work). LIS professors just don't find those courses interesting, which is understandable because reference and collection development are practices of librarians, not LIS professors. If I want to build library collections and teach people how to use them, there's little I need to know from LIS professors.
And those academic subjects that I do need to know about, and in fact know something about, have nothing to do with LIS. If I were an LIS bibliographer, then I would need to know what they're doing and keep up with the work in the field. But I'm not and never will be. As a research librarian, I need to know about actual academic subjects, not library science.
I see this as a great divide in library education. The further LIS professors gravitate away from the practice of librarianship, the less they offer to the profession. Academically, this isn't necessarily a problem, since some professors produce excellent work. There are a number of outstanding library historians. But while their work may be interesting historically, it doesn't help me in my practice. There are all sorts of LIS professors who write about exciting topics like human rights and race relations. But while their work might be interesting to people bored by librarianship and excited by politics, it doesn't have anything to do with the practice of librarianship, unless librarianship ceases to be about running libraries and serving library populations and instead becomes an exercise in romantic revolution.
But it does raise the question of what library schools are for? Are they for training librarians? Or are they for LIS professors to expand scholarship on various areas of information that is of little use or interest to librarians? Keep in mind, I'm not saying this work doesn't have scholarly value. I'm only saying it has no value for the practice of librarianship. These are two very different things, and it becomes a problem only when the library schools staffed by library professors are supposed to be training librarians. Isn't that what gets them accredited by the ALA?
Finally, I suppose that's one reason I'm so critical of library school. The professors don't want to teach the mundane subjects that will actually be useful in running libraries, with good reason. They're not librarians, they don't understand librarians, and they couldn't possibly speak with the authority I can on those issues. And they think that their area of LIS scholarship should be interesting for people who want to be librarians. Well, it's not. They teach for LIS scholars, but I don't want to be an LIS scholar. I'd rather be a librarian.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Advice to LIS Students
It has come to my attention that a number of library school students are reading the Annoyed Librarian. I'm not sure if they stumble upon it, or if it's required reading. If it's required reading, I hope it's at least as interesting as anything else assigned in library school, though I realize that's not setting a very high standard. One student even commented about how discouraging the AL was for LIS students. I would imagine it would be especially discouraging for the idealistic young. How, they might ask, can someone become as cynical and jaded as the Annoyed Librarian apparently is? Years of practice, baby, years of practice. However, to seem less cynical and more encouraging to the enthusiastic library students, I have the following heartfelt and altruistic advice: Get out while you can! It's too late for me, but you can all save yourselves! There. That's my public service announcement for the week.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Not Since the 3rd Grade
I can identify the exact moment in library school when I realized I'd left behind serious intellectual inquiry and begun vocational school or worse. It was the moment I received a particular assignment in my introductory library class, you know the one most library schools have--"Introduction to Libraries" or "Libraries, Society, and You" or some such nonsense. It was one of the courses I had to take, so I couldn't just avoid it.
No, I had to take the course and I had to complete the assignment. "Make a poster presentation." A poster presentation! I hadn't had to do that since my third-grade science fair when I very cleverly made a volcano erupt, or rather I made a poster about how my dad had very cleverly made a volcano erupt. And now here I was again, after many years of schooling in between, being asked to make another poster. In addition to the simplified content necessary to a poster, I of course also had to master the intricacies of construction paper and rubber cement. Exciting stuff!
And it got worse. It was a group assignment, the bane of my existence in library school. I was used to reading and thinking and writing on my own. Group work meant I had to depend on other people, other people, I might add, not always as competent as I was. The library school "professors" would talk about how we needed to learn to work together because that's how the workplace is. Maybe. I suspect it's just a way to reduce the amount of grading for the "professor" and to make assignments even easier for the students. If you have twenty students and divide them in groups of four for projects, that's only five essays to grade. Not bad! It's also a way to avoid having to evaluate individual students and a way to reduce competition. We're so nice in libraries. We don't like to compete with each other. Groupwork is from everyone according to her abilities, to everyone according to her needs. It's also a way to make sure the students have to waste a lot of their time scheduling meetings to get absolutely nothing done. Wait, I guess that last is like the real library world, so maybe the professors had a point.
With group essay assignments, I would just take over the project, write the essay, and let the other students put their names on it. They might give me some notes, but I did all the writing. This guaranteed clarity and coherence in the essay and a sterling grade for all. Don't think I did this autocratically. I didn't just look at my fellow groupwork students and say, "Hi, I'm taking over this project. Go away." No, it just naturally gravitated to me, because I was willing to do the work and no one else wanted to do it. I would announce at the beginning of the project that if everyone was willing, I'd be happy to write the entire essay, using their notes when necessary. Everybody always agreed.
But this time something had to change. I thought to myself, I'm a grownup now, I don't have to make posters if I don't want to. I don't have to cut construction paper. I don't have to find cute little images or cartoons. I don't have to use school glue. You get the idea. I wasn't about to revisit the third grade and make this poster. I didn't like third grade the first time around, and I'm not particularly fond of third graders now.
And it's not like a poster requires much intellectual work. I was happy to make up an outline for the poster, but you can't put much information on a poster so not much work was required. It's mostly an artistic exercise, and I didn't go to library school to learn arts and crafts. I don't like arts and crafts. I shouldn't be required to do arts and crafts in "graduate" school.
There was no other solution. I had to become a free rider and let others do the work. I just couldn't bring myself to do much with this poster. Fortunately, in my band of four there was a very nice woman who already worked in a school library as an assistant and was now getting her MLS. She already did this kind of thing at work, putting together displays and posters and such, so she took over the project and did almost all of it. And she did a fine job. That was one good-looking poster, I can tell you. I paid her back by getting her another A+ on the final group essay.
Maybe that's a lesson on how group work really gets done, even as a professional. Division of labor. I'll do what I'm good at, you do what you're good at. I suppose that's an important lesson. But there's another, darker lesson. I'll work when it suits me, but I'll avoid what I don't like and hope someone else will take up the slack, and since I'm not being individually evaluated no one will know the difference. After all, if the group is large enough, it's easy to shirk your responsibilities. Maybe that's another important lesson for the workplace as well. And then there was another lesson--library school is a bit like the third grade.
A group poster assignment. That was the beginning of the slippery slope that led me from thinking library school was just easy to thinking it was an intellectual joke. I can never visit the poster sessions at ALA without reliving that ridiculous and painful experience. It's too bad, really, because there are some good poster sessions, but I always feel like I've stumbled back into the third grade science fair. I keep looking around for the display where they make the volcano erupt.
No, I had to take the course and I had to complete the assignment. "Make a poster presentation." A poster presentation! I hadn't had to do that since my third-grade science fair when I very cleverly made a volcano erupt, or rather I made a poster about how my dad had very cleverly made a volcano erupt. And now here I was again, after many years of schooling in between, being asked to make another poster. In addition to the simplified content necessary to a poster, I of course also had to master the intricacies of construction paper and rubber cement. Exciting stuff!
And it got worse. It was a group assignment, the bane of my existence in library school. I was used to reading and thinking and writing on my own. Group work meant I had to depend on other people, other people, I might add, not always as competent as I was. The library school "professors" would talk about how we needed to learn to work together because that's how the workplace is. Maybe. I suspect it's just a way to reduce the amount of grading for the "professor" and to make assignments even easier for the students. If you have twenty students and divide them in groups of four for projects, that's only five essays to grade. Not bad! It's also a way to avoid having to evaluate individual students and a way to reduce competition. We're so nice in libraries. We don't like to compete with each other. Groupwork is from everyone according to her abilities, to everyone according to her needs. It's also a way to make sure the students have to waste a lot of their time scheduling meetings to get absolutely nothing done. Wait, I guess that last is like the real library world, so maybe the professors had a point.
With group essay assignments, I would just take over the project, write the essay, and let the other students put their names on it. They might give me some notes, but I did all the writing. This guaranteed clarity and coherence in the essay and a sterling grade for all. Don't think I did this autocratically. I didn't just look at my fellow groupwork students and say, "Hi, I'm taking over this project. Go away." No, it just naturally gravitated to me, because I was willing to do the work and no one else wanted to do it. I would announce at the beginning of the project that if everyone was willing, I'd be happy to write the entire essay, using their notes when necessary. Everybody always agreed.
But this time something had to change. I thought to myself, I'm a grownup now, I don't have to make posters if I don't want to. I don't have to cut construction paper. I don't have to find cute little images or cartoons. I don't have to use school glue. You get the idea. I wasn't about to revisit the third grade and make this poster. I didn't like third grade the first time around, and I'm not particularly fond of third graders now.
And it's not like a poster requires much intellectual work. I was happy to make up an outline for the poster, but you can't put much information on a poster so not much work was required. It's mostly an artistic exercise, and I didn't go to library school to learn arts and crafts. I don't like arts and crafts. I shouldn't be required to do arts and crafts in "graduate" school.
There was no other solution. I had to become a free rider and let others do the work. I just couldn't bring myself to do much with this poster. Fortunately, in my band of four there was a very nice woman who already worked in a school library as an assistant and was now getting her MLS. She already did this kind of thing at work, putting together displays and posters and such, so she took over the project and did almost all of it. And she did a fine job. That was one good-looking poster, I can tell you. I paid her back by getting her another A+ on the final group essay.
Maybe that's a lesson on how group work really gets done, even as a professional. Division of labor. I'll do what I'm good at, you do what you're good at. I suppose that's an important lesson. But there's another, darker lesson. I'll work when it suits me, but I'll avoid what I don't like and hope someone else will take up the slack, and since I'm not being individually evaluated no one will know the difference. After all, if the group is large enough, it's easy to shirk your responsibilities. Maybe that's another important lesson for the workplace as well. And then there was another lesson--library school is a bit like the third grade.
A group poster assignment. That was the beginning of the slippery slope that led me from thinking library school was just easy to thinking it was an intellectual joke. I can never visit the poster sessions at ALA without reliving that ridiculous and painful experience. It's too bad, really, because there are some good poster sessions, but I always feel like I've stumbled back into the third grade science fair. I keep looking around for the display where they make the volcano erupt.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Library School Coursework #2
Below are a few more genuine course titles from genuine course catalogs from genuine ALA-accredited library schools. Makes me wish I could go to library school all over again.
328C - Advanced Connexus Forum Seminar Series (UT-Austin)
In this Forum Series, we will study connexus-like things from a truly advanced perspective. If you do not understand basic connexus stuff, please don't take this course. You will not be able to keep up. Also, having a course with the cool-sounding word "Connexus" on your transcript should show people how hip and up-to-date you are. And the fact that the Connexus is "Advanced" will look even more impressive. And you probably don't realize yet that no one will ever look at your transcript, because nobody cares what classes you took in library school!
5718 Agent Implementation and Control for Information Professionals (U. of North Texas)
[This course is restricted to those planning to work for the CIA library. We could tell you what the course was about, but then we'd have to kill you.]
567 Gender and Computerization (Indiana)
The topic of this course will be clearer if you know the original title: Women and Internet Porn. Where is it? How to find it? Is it free? As a sop to the feminists who claimed we were exploiting women, we've thrown in some pictures of naked men as well. We are equal opportunity exploiters.
289 Knowledge (UCLA)
"Quid est scientia?" as Pilate might have said. Take this course and find out! We were going to crosslist this course with the Philosophy Department, but they wouldn't have anything to do with us. Intellectual snobs!
629 Multicultural Literature for Children and Young Adults (UW-Madison, natch)
Sure, you're a radical leftist who wants to change the world one library card at a time. That's why you came to Madison! But how do you do that? In this class you'll learn how to effectively indoctrinate the young with your incoherent multiculturalist ideology. And where else would you be able to get graduate credit for reading children's books?
2130 Queuing Theory (Pitt)
This class will introduce you to the most important theoretical advances on queuing. For example, when in a queue, don't stand so close to someone that you step on their heels and make them walk out of their shoes! And if you're going to cut into a line, make sure it's in front of a small, frail old person instead of some 6'5" guy with lots of tattoos. To find out more about that and many other exciting aspects of queuing theory, take the course!
390RGI Race, Gender and Information Technology (Illinois)
In this course, you will find out that if you have a race or a gender, you are probably somehow oppressed by information technology. This course is an excellent choice for humanities students who want to take a "technology" course without learning anything about technology. Unlike "Network Systems Administration" or "Programming Web Mashups," you won't have to know anything more about technology than you learned in that Women's Studies course you took in college.
328C - Advanced Connexus Forum Seminar Series (UT-Austin)
In this Forum Series, we will study connexus-like things from a truly advanced perspective. If you do not understand basic connexus stuff, please don't take this course. You will not be able to keep up. Also, having a course with the cool-sounding word "Connexus" on your transcript should show people how hip and up-to-date you are. And the fact that the Connexus is "Advanced" will look even more impressive. And you probably don't realize yet that no one will ever look at your transcript, because nobody cares what classes you took in library school!
5718 Agent Implementation and Control for Information Professionals (U. of North Texas)
[This course is restricted to those planning to work for the CIA library. We could tell you what the course was about, but then we'd have to kill you.]
567 Gender and Computerization (Indiana)
The topic of this course will be clearer if you know the original title: Women and Internet Porn. Where is it? How to find it? Is it free? As a sop to the feminists who claimed we were exploiting women, we've thrown in some pictures of naked men as well. We are equal opportunity exploiters.
289 Knowledge (UCLA)
"Quid est scientia?" as Pilate might have said. Take this course and find out! We were going to crosslist this course with the Philosophy Department, but they wouldn't have anything to do with us. Intellectual snobs!
629 Multicultural Literature for Children and Young Adults (UW-Madison, natch)
Sure, you're a radical leftist who wants to change the world one library card at a time. That's why you came to Madison! But how do you do that? In this class you'll learn how to effectively indoctrinate the young with your incoherent multiculturalist ideology. And where else would you be able to get graduate credit for reading children's books?
2130 Queuing Theory (Pitt)
This class will introduce you to the most important theoretical advances on queuing. For example, when in a queue, don't stand so close to someone that you step on their heels and make them walk out of their shoes! And if you're going to cut into a line, make sure it's in front of a small, frail old person instead of some 6'5" guy with lots of tattoos. To find out more about that and many other exciting aspects of queuing theory, take the course!
390RGI Race, Gender and Information Technology (Illinois)
In this course, you will find out that if you have a race or a gender, you are probably somehow oppressed by information technology. This course is an excellent choice for humanities students who want to take a "technology" course without learning anything about technology. Unlike "Network Systems Administration" or "Programming Web Mashups," you won't have to know anything more about technology than you learned in that Women's Studies course you took in college.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
At Least Someone Benefits
In order to combat the alleged shortage of librarians, a library school in Missouri is getting over $600,000 in Federal grant money to train people not to be librarians.
At least someone is benefitting from the alleged "librarian shortage" we keep hearing so much about. You know the routine: "According to a 2004 study by the American Library Association, 45 percent of current librarians will reach age 65 between 2010 and 2020." I'm terribly concerned about this alleged potential shortage, as my loyal readers know (thanks, you two!), and I'm really concerned about how to fix this terribly important problem. Fortunately, someone else is trying to fix the problem as well.
Check out this article from the Show Me State.
"In the wake of what many [idiots] see as an impending national librarian shortage, MU’s School of Information Science and Learning Technologies is set to receive a grant to replace those leaving the profession."
Hey, wow, replacing those leaving the profession. That sounds like a good idea. And who are those people leaving the profession?
"With many librarians set to retire, especially those in senior positions, the grants are intended to aid in the education of those seeking to enter the profession and bolster its ranks."
Especially those in senior positions! Since all those leaving the profession are going to be geriatric library directors, perhaps we should recruit some of them. But we're trying to recruit new librarians now to replace all the retiring ones? Isn't this something ALA should have thought about, oh, TWENTY YEARS AGO! So what's this grant for? Is MU going to train some newbies to be library directors?
More importantly, is the grant going to "aid in the education of those seeking to enter the profession and bolster its ranks"?
Nope.
"The school got word on June 26 that it would receive $615,365 from the Institute of Museum and Library Services to recruit and educate nine doctoral students. "
That's right. Doctoral students. Doctoral students in LIS, no less! Does this count as "entering the profession"? There must be some point to this. Are the doctoral students going to become library directors? Or even librarians? I don't think they'll be responsible for much rank-bolstering.
“(The nine students) will become educators,” said John Budd, a professor of information science and learning technology. “In their careers, they will probably reach thousands of people each.”
Educators!! Is there anyone less likely to be useful to libraries than "library educators"? Regardless, notice the logic here. It could be called Grant Logic. How do I justify getting half a million dollars when I'm not really fulfulling the purpose of the grant? Because I need money!
In all seriousness, how far are we at this point from addressing the future potential dearth of librarians in "senior positions." So we prepare these doctoral students, and they spend the rest of their careers inflicting upon us such exciting courses as "Libraries, Society, and You" and "Rapid Response Informatics." I should point out that NONE of these "doctoral students" is going to "enter the profession." They won't be librarians, and they will be of very little use to librarians.
They're getting a grant to pay a bunch of people in Missouri to become library science professors, who are going to reach thousands of people by teaching the most boring and useless classes in the entire universe!
Perhaps I'm in the minority here as in most other things. However, looking back on library school, I can honestly say I learned some things, and I had a couple of worthwhile classes, but I can just as honestly say I never learned anything from an actual library school professor that was either inherently interesting intellectually or practically useful for my job. Never. All my most interesting and useful classes were taught by librarians. And I went to one of the best library schools in the country, as you can probably tell by my sparkling prose (though I unfortunately missed the class in writing for librarianship).
I have a friend who became a library science professor after he failed at everything else, even at being a librarian, and he keeps telling me how much we librarians will learn if we just read library professors' articles, because apparently no one reads most of the "scholarly" output of library school professors except other library school professors. My friend doesn't take the obvious lesson from that, which is that he's doing research for a group that finds most of his research totally irrelevant to actually working in a library. And I oughta know whether something is relevant to being a librarian, because I am, in fact, a librarian.
At least Professor Budd is honest about it. He's not doing anything useless and underhanded, he no doubt thinks. He's helping to improve the "librarian shortage" by getting Federal grant money to train people NOT to be librarians, and to do research that no librarians will ever read but which will no doubt be incredibly fascinating to other library school professors. It makes perfect sense! Part of what annoys me is that a library school professor who in fact does do some interesting work has a hand in this.
"Budd will be working with others in the school to recruit students nationally to the project. For each of the nine students, the grant will cover tuition and include a $21,000 stipend. He said that the school hopes to attract students who have an interest in taking library faculty positions."
Free tuition and $21K certainly attract them! Is that $21K/year? Not bad for a grad student in Missouri, I bet. And if they're interested in library faculty positions, you can be sure they don't want to be librarians. Those who can't do, teach; and those who can't teach, teach library science.
But wait? Is this grant really meant to help save us from that terrible librarian shortage? Are we being totally honest here? Not according to yet another MU library professor.
The grant project is called “Educating Doctoral Students to Prepare the Next Generation of Public and Academic Librarians," so it tries to make us believe the problem is the librarian shortage. I mean, who else is going to prepare that next generation of librarians if we don't have any doctoral students? Who's more useful for educating future librarians that people who aren't librarians?
However, "Charles Seavey, associate professor at MU’s School of Information Science and Learning Technologies, published an article in 'American Libraries' in October about what he calls 'the coming crisis in education for librarianship.'" And what does he think the coming crisis is? Haven't we been assured by the best and the brightest at ALA that the crisis is the librarian shortage? But this must be a different crisis.
What could it be? I assume the coming crisis isn't that everyone is going to suddenly wake up and realize what a joke library science "education" has been for its entire existence. We all know that, so it wouldn't be news.
No, the crisis is different.
“It is past time to consider who will educate that next generation and where those library and information science faculty members will come from,” he wrote.
You see, the crisis is where the library school faculty will come from! Yes, that certainly sounds like a problem--for library school faculty! I can't see how that effects anyone else. Librarians need more library school professors like they need your grandmother's old issues of National Geographic.
I sure rest easy knowing $600K of Federal taxes are going to support 9 lousy Missouri doctoral students who might become library science professors. That will certainly solve someone's crisis. Maybe with more library school professors, the current library school professors will get reduced teaching loads and more sabbaticals. At least someone benefits.
At least someone is benefitting from the alleged "librarian shortage" we keep hearing so much about. You know the routine: "According to a 2004 study by the American Library Association, 45 percent of current librarians will reach age 65 between 2010 and 2020." I'm terribly concerned about this alleged potential shortage, as my loyal readers know (thanks, you two!), and I'm really concerned about how to fix this terribly important problem. Fortunately, someone else is trying to fix the problem as well.
Check out this article from the Show Me State.
"In the wake of what many [idiots] see as an impending national librarian shortage, MU’s School of Information Science and Learning Technologies is set to receive a grant to replace those leaving the profession."
Hey, wow, replacing those leaving the profession. That sounds like a good idea. And who are those people leaving the profession?
"With many librarians set to retire, especially those in senior positions, the grants are intended to aid in the education of those seeking to enter the profession and bolster its ranks."
Especially those in senior positions! Since all those leaving the profession are going to be geriatric library directors, perhaps we should recruit some of them. But we're trying to recruit new librarians now to replace all the retiring ones? Isn't this something ALA should have thought about, oh, TWENTY YEARS AGO! So what's this grant for? Is MU going to train some newbies to be library directors?
More importantly, is the grant going to "aid in the education of those seeking to enter the profession and bolster its ranks"?
Nope.
"The school got word on June 26 that it would receive $615,365 from the Institute of Museum and Library Services to recruit and educate nine doctoral students. "
That's right. Doctoral students. Doctoral students in LIS, no less! Does this count as "entering the profession"? There must be some point to this. Are the doctoral students going to become library directors? Or even librarians? I don't think they'll be responsible for much rank-bolstering.
“(The nine students) will become educators,” said John Budd, a professor of information science and learning technology. “In their careers, they will probably reach thousands of people each.”
Educators!! Is there anyone less likely to be useful to libraries than "library educators"? Regardless, notice the logic here. It could be called Grant Logic. How do I justify getting half a million dollars when I'm not really fulfulling the purpose of the grant? Because I need money!
In all seriousness, how far are we at this point from addressing the future potential dearth of librarians in "senior positions." So we prepare these doctoral students, and they spend the rest of their careers inflicting upon us such exciting courses as "Libraries, Society, and You" and "Rapid Response Informatics." I should point out that NONE of these "doctoral students" is going to "enter the profession." They won't be librarians, and they will be of very little use to librarians.
They're getting a grant to pay a bunch of people in Missouri to become library science professors, who are going to reach thousands of people by teaching the most boring and useless classes in the entire universe!
Perhaps I'm in the minority here as in most other things. However, looking back on library school, I can honestly say I learned some things, and I had a couple of worthwhile classes, but I can just as honestly say I never learned anything from an actual library school professor that was either inherently interesting intellectually or practically useful for my job. Never. All my most interesting and useful classes were taught by librarians. And I went to one of the best library schools in the country, as you can probably tell by my sparkling prose (though I unfortunately missed the class in writing for librarianship).
I have a friend who became a library science professor after he failed at everything else, even at being a librarian, and he keeps telling me how much we librarians will learn if we just read library professors' articles, because apparently no one reads most of the "scholarly" output of library school professors except other library school professors. My friend doesn't take the obvious lesson from that, which is that he's doing research for a group that finds most of his research totally irrelevant to actually working in a library. And I oughta know whether something is relevant to being a librarian, because I am, in fact, a librarian.
At least Professor Budd is honest about it. He's not doing anything useless and underhanded, he no doubt thinks. He's helping to improve the "librarian shortage" by getting Federal grant money to train people NOT to be librarians, and to do research that no librarians will ever read but which will no doubt be incredibly fascinating to other library school professors. It makes perfect sense! Part of what annoys me is that a library school professor who in fact does do some interesting work has a hand in this.
"Budd will be working with others in the school to recruit students nationally to the project. For each of the nine students, the grant will cover tuition and include a $21,000 stipend. He said that the school hopes to attract students who have an interest in taking library faculty positions."
Free tuition and $21K certainly attract them! Is that $21K/year? Not bad for a grad student in Missouri, I bet. And if they're interested in library faculty positions, you can be sure they don't want to be librarians. Those who can't do, teach; and those who can't teach, teach library science.
But wait? Is this grant really meant to help save us from that terrible librarian shortage? Are we being totally honest here? Not according to yet another MU library professor.
The grant project is called “Educating Doctoral Students to Prepare the Next Generation of Public and Academic Librarians," so it tries to make us believe the problem is the librarian shortage. I mean, who else is going to prepare that next generation of librarians if we don't have any doctoral students? Who's more useful for educating future librarians that people who aren't librarians?
However, "Charles Seavey, associate professor at MU’s School of Information Science and Learning Technologies, published an article in 'American Libraries' in October about what he calls 'the coming crisis in education for librarianship.'" And what does he think the coming crisis is? Haven't we been assured by the best and the brightest at ALA that the crisis is the librarian shortage? But this must be a different crisis.
What could it be? I assume the coming crisis isn't that everyone is going to suddenly wake up and realize what a joke library science "education" has been for its entire existence. We all know that, so it wouldn't be news.
No, the crisis is different.
“It is past time to consider who will educate that next generation and where those library and information science faculty members will come from,” he wrote.
You see, the crisis is where the library school faculty will come from! Yes, that certainly sounds like a problem--for library school faculty! I can't see how that effects anyone else. Librarians need more library school professors like they need your grandmother's old issues of National Geographic.
I sure rest easy knowing $600K of Federal taxes are going to support 9 lousy Missouri doctoral students who might become library science professors. That will certainly solve someone's crisis. Maybe with more library school professors, the current library school professors will get reduced teaching loads and more sabbaticals. At least someone benefits.
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