FLIPpity doo dah

I'm fortunate enough to work in a library that has a pretty active new-, future-, and experienced-but-interested-in-new-librarians' issues group (was that a parallelism win or fail? who can say?), Future Librarians and Information science Professionals, or FLIP, which was definitely one of the things that I found attractive about the job, when I interviewed. I just attended my first meeting today, where we talked about one member's move into a new job on campus—it sounds like a great opportunity—and how that relates to our library and the campus at large. People also asked how I was settling in, which was nice. And we talked at some length about various library schools' approaches to distance education, the shortage of cataloging professors, and the recent LJ Placements & Salaries Survey results (more analysis and discussion here and, to go ahead and expose my feelings on the matter, here). It was definitely good to have that dedicated time to sit with a group of coworkers I don't necessarily see every day (some I do, some I don't) and discuss issues, both close to home and about the profession at large.

As far as the Salaries & Placements thing goes, I really feel like I've beaten the subject to death, already, though that was based on pre-economic-crash data, which may or may not have been all that compelling. Given LJ's recent findings, I feel validated in my anger (if not in my wording)—though I would honestly rather have been wrong, in this case. My point: the ethical argument for keeping so many library schools open, accepting absurdly high numbers of applicants, and pumping out graduates, when there are so few jobs, continues to elude me. There's the argument that this is just a pendulum swing, that it'll be fine in a few years, but that argument is rarely backed up with any data; meanwhile, libraries are closing and laying off people left and right, filling the marketplace with a bunch of experienced librarians, on top of all the new graduates (and we're supposed to believe they'll be reopening as soon as the economy starts an upswing?); retirement funds aren't exactly up (30 percent losses take a while to fix, even in a great economy); there's a frightening trend toward part-time, rather than full-time, positions; and there continue to be vague potential future threats to the field (which, if one is to believe Tim Spalding, are dire—see his discussion of ebooks today). (Not sure I agree with Mr. Spalding, but there are plenty of very real threats out there, in addition to the possible threat ebooks might pose.) Even if everything does right itself in a few years, what are this year's and next year's and the following year's graduates supposed to do? Why is the survival of 60+ library schools considered more important than the survival of the profession and its newest members? How, I ask again, do the faculty and leadership of these schools live with themselves?

I don't understand the lack of anger. Are we all just so consumed by the business of keeping our libraries running that we don't have time to worry about the 5000+ kids being duped into $30k of debt for, essentially, nothing? (That's assuming 2000 or so do find jobs that pay some portion of their debts—not a wild assumption, but not a given, either.) I get the lack of action—none of these schools will be shutting down or shrinking their program any time soon. That would cut into their bottom line, and schools were hit hard by the economic downturn, too. Library programs are a great source of cash. So, no action, sure—upsetting, but understandable. But why so little outcry?

I got sidetracked. That was going to be half a paragraph. But it turns out the degree-in-hand (or, well, in-the-mail) and the job don't suddenly make me comfortable with my own library school experience, with the general employment rate for new librarians, or with the continuation of the cycle for current and future library students. Who knew.

I feel sort of guilty talking about it, now that I've ranted about the joblessness problem, but my own job really is going well. I've had a cold all week, which kind of set back my learning schedule a bit, but even through the haze of cold medicine, I feel like I'm getting a grip on a lot of the things I need to know, both technically and interpersonally (?). I've got the bulk of the committee I'm supposed to put together, I went to the first meeting of a committee I'm supposed to join (and, truth be told, it's a pretty cool committee—all about eLearning), I have a list of tasks for the next year, I have a huge to-do list (both things given to me and things I came up with and have to run by that first committee I mentioned), I have a plant in my office, and I haven't been stopped when trying to leave through the back door, behind the circulation desk, in over a week. :) In short, this is starting to feel like "my job," rather than, say, someone else's job that I'm just trying to cover.

Interviewing - Presentations

This is the fourth and final (unless I think of some genius thing while I'm on the road) installment of my Interviewing series. If you've missed the earlier parts, they discussed Cover Letters, Phone Interviews, and On-Site Interviews. Again--as is probably obvious by a whole post about the presentation--this is very academic-library-interview-focused. And, while I've interviewed people for hire in other fields, I've never been aught but the interviewee in academic library interviews, so I don't claim to know everything. My advice comes from my own experience, awesome mentor librarians' advice, and what I've read in other places (and tried to put into practice, myself). If you find any errors or have additional suggestions, please share what you know in the comments!

You'll be given a presentation topic shortly after you're invited to the on-site interview; in addition to, obviously, giving you a framework around which to design your presentation, this will also provide an excellent focus for your general interview research needs--for instance, has anyone at this institution written about this topic? How do they feel about it? More generally, what can you teach the library staff about this topic that not all of them will already know? Happily, it seems as though the "demonstrate a database use case" style of presentation has gone out of vogue. Presentation topics like "Suggest a technology we should consider using to enhance our Web presence," "Discuss emerging trends in [X area] in the 21st century," and "Prepare a learning module for students in [X class], that could plug in to Blackboard," seem to be more the norm. This is great news, because it leaves you room to show the audience something new--it doesn't have to be ground-breaking, but do try to make it worth their time to watch your talk. And do over-research your presentation topic; there will be 30 or more minutes for questions after your talk, and you'll want to be able to wow them with all the cool stuff you know.

In one case, I had to give a presentation near the end of the day; I admit, I wore myself out, a bit, with anticipation--also, a lot of my thunder was stolen in interviews earlier in the day, where I ended up talking about most of my main points, in part because they were relevant to the discussion and in part, no doubt, because they were on my mind. If this happens, roll with it; they understand. Still, when I have the power to decide candidates' interview schedules, I'm definitely scheduling all talks for first thing in the morning, both for the candidates' sakes and for the committees'.

Regardless of the timing, here are some things to consider:

• Roughly how many people, from what departments, will be attending? (Getting numbers is hard, but they should be able to tell you whether it's just librarians or whether other faculty are invited--audience is the biggest factor in deciding what to say, so this is important to know.)
• What kind of room is it? If you're teaching something, will everyone have a computer, to follow along? (Maps of the building are often helpful, but this is probably a fine question to ask, when your topic is sent to you, as well.)
• How long do they have set aside for the talk, versus the Q&A? (Your search committee should communicate this of their own accord, but it's worth some thought. For instance, if you want to touch on something but don't have time during the presentation, you can always give a teaser and invite the audience to ask later.)
• How long will you have to set up? (Your schedule will give some inkling of this.)

You can mitigate some unknowns by making sure to have your Powerpoint slides, should you choose to use them, in multiple places--your webmail, a USB key, maybe a backup version in Google docs. I've never done handouts; I give the audience a Web address they can go to, instead, but if you do, make sure you have enough. Some people don't even use Powerpoint for their presentation (*gasp*)! In one presentation, I worked from a Web page as my visual, with links for the audience to click on; I don't know if I can whole-heartedly suggest this for everyone, but it worked fine for me and felt more natural than the slide show format. Another cool thing you might want to consider, over Powerpoint, is something called Prezi, which is ... easier for you to go look at than for me to explain. It's very cool.

Some good advice a role model of mine once gave me: set up the presentation--slides, handouts, whatever--early (usually, this means skipping your scheduled pre-presentation break), and walk up and greet people as they enter. Shake their hands. Introduce yourself. Mingle. It leaves a good impression, which is nice, but it also humanizes your audience, which can really help with nerves.

And I feel like my advice from earlier is worth repeating in this context: these people want you to succeed, and they want to like you. The audience at your presentation will, most likely, be very well-disposed toward you; the search committee liked you enough to bring you in, right?, so you must be good. Besides, they've all had to go through this process themselves, some of them recently. They know you're nervous, and they're OK with it. Even if there are hostile-looking people in your audience (yes, it happens, but I suspect it's uncommon), there's going to be a friendly face or three; find them, and let them bolster your confidence. You know your topic. They are sympathetic. You'll be fine.

And be flexible about the Q&A time. Some of the questions I got were surprisingly wacky--it may just be that my talks have tended to focus on technology, either directly or tangentially, and I think some people find that off-putting. One person asked if I thought our eyes/brains will evolve to read computer screens better than paper--I'd been talking about ebook readers--and I was a little stunned. I just kind of had to think on my feet and give the best answer I could at the time. (In case you're curious, it was something along the lines of "No, I think screens will continue to evolve to look more like paper. Ebook readers already do. Eventually, so will laptop monitors." I stand by that, actually.) Some people can't attend other sessions and therefore use the Q&A session to find out about you, rather than your topic--one person pointed out something from my resume and asked for explanation of it. Some people will lob softball questions, and others will try to stretch you, to see what you do with something difficult. I don't think the latter is generally out of unfriendliness; it's just curiosity, and it's entirely appropriate, given all the kinds of questions patrons have. I felt, in the one Q&A session, like I was defending a proposal I had made to an attentive committee. And that made it kind of fun, honestly, because I got to play the part of salesperson and to really explain why my idea was a good one. It made for a nice dynamic.

If presentations aren't your thing, I suggest taking a course, joining ToastMasters, or otherwise finding a venue in which to practice. Maybe teach a course at your local library. I've definitely chilled out a lot, as far as giving presentations goes, over the last year, in part due to Pitt's course in Information Literacy and Library Instruction (I forget its proper name), and in part because I lucked into a few other talks. I still get nervous--if you don't, something's wrong--but as long as I know my topic and my audience, I no longer get physically shaky. If I got over my terrible presentation anxiety (or, well, most of it), I am confident that anyone can!

Thus ends this series. Let me know if there are other topics I should have addressed, or if you have any questions after reading this. ... I'm kind of excited to have it written, honestly, because I can go back, after my first couple of times working on a search committee, and see what interview behaviors have changed (because they will) and what I didn't address that I should have (hopefully nothing). In the meantime, I really hope it is helpful to library students and new librarians!

Interviewing - On-site

This is the third part of the series I'm writing about interviewing. The first was Interviewing - Cover Letter, and the second was Interviewing - Phone Interview. As I said in the other two topics, I'm not an expert, but I'd like to share what I know, gleaned from my own experience, stories and advice of mentor-librarians, blogs and articles I read before I went interviewing, and things I know from having interviewed people in the business/engineering world. As always, if you have quibbles, let's quibble them out in the comments. :)

The first thing that really distinguishes the on-site interview is that it's exhausting. Seriously. I've only done one-day on-site interviews, but I've heard tales of two-day marathons. I can only imagine how those must be. Regardless, do not schedule anything for the day after your on-site interview. At least, not anything really important (like another interview). I slept through almost a full day after mine. (I also caught a cold on the plane each time, so there you go.)

Sometimes, they'll give you a day to see the town/city, as well as the day(s) of interviewing. Sometimes, they won't. If you've got the time, definitely take advantage of it to look around, and prepare ahead of time for that, as well--one day to determine whether or not you'd like to live someplace? That's a tight schedule. So pick and choose what interests you ahead of time. Travel guides for most states, if you're in the US, should be available at your local library, or via ILL. Also, Wikitravel can be your friend.

Back to the business of it, though. The presentation is arguably the cornerstone of the day. (Maybe I just think so because that's the part I'm most nervous about and the part that takes the longest preparation time. But it's also the only time some of the library staff will have to meet you, which definitely adds to its importance.) I have quite a lot to say about presentations, though, so I'm going to save all of that for the final post of this series.

The same advice about doing lots of research--even more than you did in preparing for your phone interview--goes, here. Hopefully you found out things during the phone interview--and took notes, so you can look them back up--that will help you dig deeper and get better information. See what kinds of things your committee has written about, either by finding their CVs or by doing a search in Web of Science or other citation tool (even Google Scholar might do). Find their blogs, if they have them. Go through the same process as you did for the phone interview, but dig deeper. If you can avoid being surprised, do.

The interviewing day, aside from the presentation, feels like an exercise in endurance. There will always be several interviews, with several different groups, though the exact structure is different between institutions. You will be asked certain questions multiple times, sometimes with a few of the same people in the room for both. (If I had a nickel for every time someone asked "Why did you switch from engineering to librarianship?"... :)) I had something like three meetings with different iterations of my search committee, plus one with my would-be work unit (this could be reference, instruction, systems, cataloging, collection development, or liaison librarians--any group with job functions similar to the one you're interviewing for) and one with some administrator-level folks, at one interview; at another, I had a meeting with "whoever wants to come," a meeting with my search committee, a meeting with my would-be work unit, and a meeting with the dean.

There's usually a meeting with an HR person--they just want to tell you about benefits. Don't be unprofessional, but this is a low-pressure thing; they aren't interviewing you, just informing you. Note from the recently-employed: you should probably pay attention; I was too jittery to really take in much of the HR talk when I was interviewing for the job I eventually got, and I regret that. There's also usually a lunch--sometimes a lunch and dinner--with some potential future coworkers, and this tends to be more casual and fun; again, don't go crazy unprofessional, but it's not really an interview, either. You can get some fantastic off-the-record information at these lunches, which is nice, and, yes, they'll get some off-the-record information about you, too. It's a good time to find out how much you'll really enjoy working with these people. And don't kid yourself: you're interviewing them (and, thus, they are trying to impress you), too.

I don't know how true this is, but someone told me that the in-person interview is just about "fit"--would you and these people make good coworkers?--because the competencies and such have all been covered in the CV, calls to references, and phone interview. They already believe that you're capable of doing the job; they want to see if they want to work with you. ... Like I said, I don't know how true it is, but I thought I'd throw it out there. I did get a fairly high number of "technical" (that is, knowledge-of-librarianship and knowledge-of-technology) questions at one interview and very few at another, so maybe it depends on the institution. Be ready for either. Your committee could be convinced, but other librarians might need the assurance of asking you things themselves, as well.

And have a whole slew of questions ready. It's going to happen, no matter how many you prepare, but it's tough to say "Actually, all of my questions have been answered." It's tougher before noon, I bet. Maybe have some questions like "What is your favorite thing about working here?" or "What do you see as the challenges facing this position?" so that you can reuse them on new people you meet. And--this is key--don't just ask about benefits, parking, and the like; ask about the position and its responsibilities, about your coworkers' positions, about relationships between departments, etc. It annoys interviewers when all of your questions seem too shallow, and benefits questions all go to HR, anyway.

And, if you can, have fun. It's OK to make your interviewers smile. It's definitely OK to smile, yourself--one librarian I know says that's all she looks for in an interview: do they smile? This is about finding a match between yourself and a workplace, something neither side can do if there isn't at least a little of your and your interviewers' real personalities on display.

Interviewing - Phone Interviews

As I said in the last post, this was written while I was still interviewing. It's fairly academic library-centric, though there's advice here that should be more widely applicable, as well. I'm not an expert, but I hope people find this helpful.

I was surprised to learn that the first place to give me a phone interview actually only called six people. Somehow, I had been led to believe phone interviews were easier to get. It heartened me, not just to get one, but to realize that maybe other places, who had opted not to call, had been similarly selective. Some places have called larger numbers of applicants, but the phone interview pool has always (when they've told me the number) been reasonably small. I suppose this makes sense: the committee is made up of busy librarians.

I was also surprised that the entire committee was on the other end of the line. I'm not sure why, but I had been under the impression that the committee broke up the phone interviews, with standardized questions (that second part is true; they do have standardized questions that they ask all candidates), and reconvened to argue the case for or against any given candidate. But they were all there. That's fairer, but maybe a bit more intimidating. And it's been that way for every phone interview I've had, though some were conference calls between multiple lines and others were me on my cell on one end and a room full of people on a speakerphone on the other. Multiple lines means less worry that the committee is staring at one another in horror at your replies, though the pauses are awkward, regardless of the setup.

I hate to harp on advice everyone else gives, but do take the time to learn a little about the institution--by which I mean the college/university and the library itself. Having had some good, some bad, and one really wretched phone interview, at the time of this paragraph's writing, I can tell you, that makes a big difference. The ability to say "I see your institution is heavily into research," or "I see the institution is trying to meet X goal by Y year," impresses the committee. Having to ask, "What percentage of your students do X thing?" does not impress. Check their Carnegie classification for some good demographic information. Look for meeting minutes, to see what's on the library staff members' minds right now. Look for policy documents, so you can talk intelligently about tenure or lack thereof. Google the search committee, if you know their names--you can be sure they're Googling you. And use what you find to make good, in-depth questions for the committee, about the position, the institution, relationships between the library and stakeholders--whatever the data leads you to wonder.

One other thing that surprised me--like the two surprise points above, maybe it shouldn't have?--was the depth of the questions. They weren't so much "What are your strengths and weaknesses?" as "What is your philosophy on collection development?" "What tools would you need to do this job?" "Can you list a time when you managed a project/worked in a group/wrote a grant proposal/..., and how did it go? What did you learn from it?" (OK, I expected that third one.) But knowing about the institution isn't enough--you should have a really clear idea of exactly what the job would entail. Pump your network for information, if you know people who have similar jobs. If you don't have experience in one area of the job, find out enough to be able to discuss that area comfortably; it's OK to say "I haven't worked in that directly, but here's what I know...". Sometimes there are only six or seven questions, so you want to be sure you have something to give the committee for everything they might ask. The questions are direct and hard and surprisingly in-depth, in most phone interviews, so know your stuff.

Along those lines, knowing how long to go on with an answer is tricky. Try to answer thoroughly, but succinctly--you know, even to me, that advice sounds useless. Here's the thing, though: your goal is to demonstrate that you are knowledgeable, that you have thought about the topic, etc. But you need to give the committee room to say "That's a good answer. Next question." It's a tough balance. Honestly, I'm not sure I do it all that well--I try to make up for it by pausing and sometimes even asking for feedback. "Am I going down the right route, here, or did you mean the question in a different way?" "I can go into this further, if you're interested." Stuff like that. I imagine it's a skill one develops with practice.

Another bit of advice others will give you, but it bears repeating: set aside a quiet time and space, when you can really concentrate, to have the interview. In the case of my really desperately flubbed interview, I talked to them at 9am the day after flying back from an in-person interview--terrible idea. I was exhausted, I wasn't in the right frame of mind, I had skimped on research, and I wasn't focused enough on the mindset of their institution. (Admittedly, I learned on that call that the environment would not have been a great fit for me, anyway, but it was still embarrassing.) I have had both good and bad interviews on my mobile phone--one, which led to an engineering job, was done while I was stuck standing in a parking lot--but in general, I'm a big fan of having a landline connection, if you can get it, for interviewing. The sound quality of cell phones just isn't great. Also, don't pace around the house; sit at a desk. Do remove distractions: close instant messengers and Twitter, and keep friends, roommates, coworkers, and pets out of the room.

This is going to sound silly, but don't interview in your pajamas. Seriously, it wrecks your mental state. Dress nicely, so that you are confident, even though they can't see you.

Do not bring up other interviews, or the job search at large. This probably seems obvious, because it is. Nonetheless, during the Debacle Interview, I busted out with the genius line "I don't normally apply for X-type positions, but this one was interesting to me because of Y." I mean, yes, that was honest, but it was a stupid thing to say--less stupid, given that I was trying to express how awesome Y was, but it was still not the right thing to have said. It clearly put up a red flag; one committee member asked, somewhat tensely, "If you aren't interested in those positions, what positions do you usually apply for?" I immediately realized that the interview was, for all intents and purposes, over. So, you know, please, learn from my mistake.

If you can take notes without overly distracting yourself, do. If you can't, set aside some time after the call to write down at least the answers to the questions you asked, but really any pertinent information and impressions you get. If you get the in-person interview and haven't taken this step, trust me, you will regret it. Also, consider emailing a quick "Thank you for your time; I really enjoyed talking about X," sort of message to the chair of the committee. That sort of thing is definitely appreciated in library-land, as long as you keep down the self promotion. That is, it's OK to reiterate interest in the position (if it's true), but the thank-you note isn't the time to convince them of how awesome you are.

Other than this general advice--be prepared, avoid distractions, be sitting by the phone 5 minutes before the scheduled time, have questions for them, make sure the phone is charged--the only other advice I have is to realize that phone interviews are hard for everyone, interviewer and interviewee alike. And interviewers know this. They've been in your shoes, some of them more recently than you'd guess. Be professional, but also be yourself; the people on the other end of the phone want you to succeed; they want to like you; let them.

Interviewing - Cover Letters

This set of posts (there will be a whole series--at least three, though I'm thinking of splitting it out further) was written while I was applying and interviewing for positions. It seemed gauche and unwise to post information about my interviewing experiences and lessons learned, even as I was learning them, but I feel like it's probably reasonable to share now. Better to share than not, right? I wouldn't have bothered writing it up if I didn't think I had potentially beneficial advice to share, and, having been on the other side of the table, albeit in an entirely different field, I feel like I bring a different perspective to the discussion. Argue with me in the comments if you think I'm off base. :) But I hope this helps somebody.

Advice for any former engineers, consultants, or business people: librarians seem to take cover letters really seriously. I felt some culture shock at this revelation--I mean, I more or less believed the people who said so and really tried to do a good job on mine, but I've definitely had to learn the cover letter writing skill from scratch. I know when I was applying to engineering jobs, I always included one as a courtesy (so they could data-mine it and determine the best place to advertise positions, mostly), with proper grammar and everything, but I didn't expect it to be read by the hiring manager. When I was interviewing candidates for consulting jobs, there were rarely cover letters, and when they existed, I usually ignored them; they all said the same thing, anyway.

The library world isn't like that. I didn't get calls back on my first few applications, but, although I've changed very little in my vitae or references, I am getting some calls, now (not for every application--I'm no rockstar--but for an acceptable number of them, something I'll get back to momentarily); the only thing that's really changed/improved is my cover letter phrasing. Although I still try to address the bulk of the job requirements, I have definitely shortened it, on average, and gotten to the point much faster. In responding to the job advertisements with long lists of requirements, I still have a long letter, but I try to address multiple requirements in a single sentence, where I can. I do my best to find the one thing I can say, related to the job, that will most impress them or catch their eye, even if it means not addressing one of the less meaningful requirements (bad example: "If you like this letter, clearly I can communicate well in writing"). If I have a punchy one-line anecdote that sounds awesome, it goes in. "I wrote a paper on [a relevant topic], which I am considering submitting for publication," was one pretty successful statement--it told them, immediately, that I have ambition and that I know--or think I know--a fair bit about the topic at hand.

I say "my cover letter," but, although it follows the same general form, it is very different for each job I apply to. I reuse a little bit, job to job, especially in jobs that are similar--all the techy ones have similar requirements, all the referency ones have similar requirements, etc.--but I end up writing a fair bit from scratch, as well.

I have a really important piece of advice, here, which I think is the key to my not having received a truly demoralizing number* of pre-phone-interview rejections. I don't know whether this advice seems obvious or absurd to the general reader, but I stand by it: Don't apply to a job that you can't get excited about. I know we all have bills to pay, but if you aren't psyched about a job--if you know you'll hate the location, or it's not the kind of librarianship you want to go into--writing the cover letter is even harder. And even if you somehow manage to cobble together a good cover letter, the lack of enthusiasm will catch up with you on the phone interview. Interviewers know. And for every person who "just wants a job," there are so many who really want this job. Besides, having been through the interview process, I can tell you that the research you end up having to do and the time you end up having to put into each phone interview--let alone an in-person interview--is significant. If you aren't excited, the preparations will be torture.

The other important (and hopefully obvious) advice I have is to have someone look at your cover letter and CV. Mine went through several revisions, with the help of several kind and generous people. Each time, it came out better. If you don't know any librarians (ideally with hiring experience) whom you'd be comfortable asking, your school probably has an alumni group, and, definitely, the New Members' Round Table of ALA has a fantastic resume review service--I suspect they can be talked into looking at cover letters, as well.

*This is two-sided, right? I'm also sending out significantly fewer applications than most people I know, so there are also fewer rejections to receive.

(The next post is about Phone Interviews.)

Good news!

I have a job! (As in, I received and signed an official, printed, mailed job offer today, which I plan to photocopy and mail back tomorrow.) But it's not just any job—it's precisely the kind of job I wanted to be doing, at a dynamic library, in a beautiful city, with excellent coworkers.

I will be working at the University of Alaska Anchorage and Alaska Pacific University's Consortium Library, as a Web Services Librarian. Part of my job will be Web site stuff—making sure the library's home page is working and troubleshooting when electronic resources act up—part will be reference and liaison work, and part will be committee and working group activities. It sounds like there will be plenty of variety to the work, leaving room to fiddle with new and different technologies as time and interest allow. I like my coworkers—they're laid back and fun, but also pretty dedicated librarians, which is exactly the kind of people I want to be working with. And they know I'm not a total genius with all of the development languages in use on their site, yet, which is nice. (I still plan to get a lot closer to genius level before I start work, though.) Finally—and this might sound stupid—I will have a window office. That makes me so, so, so much happier in places like DC and Pennsylvania, so it'll be absolutely amazing in Alaska!

Now, when I tell people about this, I get one of two reactions: "Alaska? Awesome! (Can I come visit?)" or "Alaska? Really? (Bleh!)" Although I really am sad to leave friends and family so far behind, I'm still pretty excited about living in Anchorage: it's a a far sight warmer and lighter in winter than some other parts of the state, and it's a city in its own right—just a little smaller than Pittsburgh. Though moose are not an uncommon sight, even in town. :) And, seriously, I've never been anywhere prettier. There are mountains high enough to have glaciers even in summer, and there's water, and there are state and national parks and forests all around the city—so much to explore!

I've promised to blog the move. If you have a strong opinion about whether I should do that here or make a new blog for it, leave me a comment, but for now, I'm planning to make a new blog and just link it from here and the homepage—keep this blog about librarianship. I'll have some exciting things to write, this year! (You can reasonably expect another post or two about library school before I get to blogging about the new job.)

The Past Few Weeks

I make no secret of my loathing for summer classes. It isn't the standard "I'd rather have a break," though I suppose that factors in. Rather, it's the inherent lack of balance. The summer semester at Pitt is 3-4 weeks (depending how you count) shorter than the other two, and like everywhere, the professors who are stuck teaching summer classes have to decide whether to try to fit an entire semester's worth of material in--or short-change students who are paying as much for these classes as they would for classes in real semesters.

This summer's professors seem to be trying to find a balance--definitely, they are packing in more than fits in 12 weeks, but I don't think it's quite as much as they'd hit in 15. That's probably the fairest approach, in this situation.

I really believe Pitt's LIS program would be better if they would not run by the rest of the school's semester system during the year--they already run more people through summer classes than the university is designed to handle, which implies, to me, that they are not unduly concerned with "how the rest of Pitt does it." Instead, they should cut a week out of fall and a week out of spring, in order to make summer two weeks longer (since most things are pretty much closed in the summer, students are used to not having the services they need). It would not remove the imbalance entirely, but it would be a good step toward eliminating it.

Other than summer classes--and at some point I'll talk about what I'm taking and what I think of it--I have been busy with conferences and interviews--not that many of the latter, but enough to be noticeable in the scheme of my semester, certainly. (I could write up SLA, but the time has passed. I will try to blog about ALA, though.) I'm composing a series of posts about interviews--dos and don'ts, mostly--but I think I'm going to wait until I have a job to really discuss any of it in depth. My desire to help others who are about to be--or who are currently--in my shoes wars, somewhat, with my desire not to damage my own prospects. I was a little surprised--and pleased, with a tiny bit of heartburn, wondering "what else did I say?"--when a recent interviewer mentioned something I'd said months ago in my blog. (Mostly, I was pleased. Sometimes I wonder whether what I say is even a little bit interesting.) So, that's one bit of advice: people do read what you put out there. I still have few enough followers that maybe Google Analytics will show spikes when search committees decide I'm worth looking into. :)

On the being-busy-and-conference-preparation front, please do come see the Book Cart Drill Team's Pittsburgh Performance, this Thursday, 4pm, Posvar Hall. We'll still be selling raffle tickets, and the final drawing will take place after the performance!



Other posts in the hopper: comparison/contrast of the MLIS program with engineering graduate school (a coworker asked for that, verbally, and it got me thinking); some thoughts on library school in general and Pitt specifically; hopefully an announcement of a Book Cart Drill Team win at ALA :); other ALA posts, including possibly some discussion of the MLIS program accreditation discussions going on there; hopefully an announcement that I got a job, followed by discussion of the moving process; and maybe some musings on the transition from engineering to library work--I should see if I can get a guest blogger in for that one, since he's gone a different path than I plan to. :) After that, here's hoping I'm changing the focus of the blog, somewhat, from library school to librarianship!

Keeping it brief (for once)

I feel like my posts have all been coming out through the lens of the job search, lately. I mean, I try to address bigger issues, but you can probably see the thought patterns behind some of what I say... Like I mentioned before, I have started looking for jobs--and even applied to a few--but it's ludicrous that I could be less than 2/3 of the way through my MLIS and so focused on that one thing... isn't it? It's a semester too early for "senioritis."

Ah, well.

Anyway, I apologize if I seem kind of one-track in my thinking. While the question of where I'll be living and what I'll be doing in [not even] six months dominates a lot of my headspace, there are other things going on. For instance, there's spring (soon?), allergies (western PA hates me), long walks (1.5mi today), taking care of my injured parakeet (he's fine now), dancing with book carts (going fantastically), and some "for fun" reading instead of the work reading I should be doing. Sometimes, I even go out for hot dogs and beer or politics and beer (OK, only once). And, while I feel hopelessly behind on all of the projects that are coming due, I am getting used to the feeling and remembering that, every other time I've ever felt this way, I've pulled through just fine, with everything making it in by its due date.

Just have to remember to breathe. And take enough allergy medicine.

I sound my quasi-heretical yaw over the roofs of the world

(I typed that "foofs of the world" and almost left it.)

The Dialog event today--I hesitate to call it a "training," since it was not focused specifically around learning to use the tool--was interesting and fairly enlightening. (Heads up to any readers in SLAPSG: we may have a Dialog tutorial in the works. I have no more details than that.)

To back up a bit: The word "library" used to bring to mind the public library, for me. Like many MLS-seekers, past and present, I spent a large portion of my childhood in a public library (though I think I had the grace not to say so on my application to library school). But I've been pretty academic-library-centric in my LIS education, thus far, for a variety of reasons that I may or may not get to later in this post. I work in an academic library (or three, depending how you count), I am taking Academic Librarianship, and my classes thus far have all been taught by academics of one stripe or another (even a practitioner in an academic institution is still an academic, I say). This immersion--which I made reference to, in a different way, in my last post--has kind of colored my thinking on the field of librarianship.

Today's event really drilled into me a different way of thinking about the library field, though. Certainly, as an SLA member and technically-inclined person, I was aware of corporate librarians--I have even applied to work as one--but I never really sat back and pondered to myself whether my philosophy about librarianship as a field applied to corporate libraries. Today I realized it does not, and that is exciting.

Whereas, for a variety of reasons*, I think the long-term goal of academic and public librarians (field-wide more than individually) should be to build tools that allow for nearly complete disintermediation: as opposed to continuing to fail at making the "but you don't know how to find things! Google doesn't have everything!" sales pitch and leaving most of the population with a poor view of us and poor information, to boot, the goal should be ... something else. We need to talk about what that something else is--do we team up with Google? Do we build our own tools to search our collections? Do we buy Serials Solutions' very, very sexy new Enterprise Search tool? I don't know, yet, and it's clearly going to take more than just me to figure that out. But before we can get there, we have to drop the self-indulgent view that computers will never compete with us (hey, they already are, and even if they aren't doing as good a job as we could, they're winning in market share) and the self-interested view that having a job is better than not (nobody likes that programmer who writes deliberately-confusing, uncommented code in hopes of retaining his or her job; let's not be that guy). We owe it to the general public, college educated or not, to build them tools that make information accessible to them without our interference. Because, increasingly, they are uninterested in asking us for help.

I'm not totally crazy, though. While I do think most authoritative information can be made accessible this way, and I even think it's a fairly affordable undertaking if we stop working so hard to recruit technophobic liberal arts majors into our ranks and instead beef up the "bright technical mind" bastion of librarians--not a small group, already. (Let me say, I dearly love several technophobic liberal arts majors. I do. But I still don't think they should become librarians unless they can lose the fear of technology.)

Anyway, as I was saying, not totally crazy: I think there will still be a need for professional data finders. Take the consulting firm I used to work for: great firm, hired some great people. But I had and continue to have a fundamental disagreement with their approach to professional development. They believed that a consultant should be all things--good with whatever engineering/IT specialty they had, good with people and management and customer handling, and also good with writing and presentations. We did our own research. I can see where they are coming from, and it seems to work fine for them ($4 billion in income a year is nothing to sneeze at). But, from a gaming perspective, I believe there's a real benefit in min-maxing. I think, if you have a really brilliant technical mind, there's no good reason to stick you behind the proverbial typewriter, as long as you can communicate the technical details to some genius writer you have on staff. Similarly, why would an engineer waste a bunch of time doing research for a literature review when an information specialist could do it for her, freeing her up to go to the lab? Why would a marketer waste time finding statistics that an information specialist could find faster? ... Having everyone trying to do everything is inefficient. Sure, there should be some overlap; the writer has to understand technology, and it helps if the information specialist (you see how I'm not calling the person "librarian" anymore? the word is rooted in the idea of books; no wonder people see us the way they do!) has some domain knowledge. It also helps if the engineer or marketer has a clue how searches are constructed. But each person has their area of expertise, and they spend the bulk of their time really excelling in the work they enjoy, rather than muddling around with things they aren't as good at.

I think corporate librarians will prove themselves indispensable, and I think they will bring some of the esteem back to our field. One day, people won't immediately assume an MLIS means shelving books and "being paid to read." I'm kind of excited about that.

(I'm also not sure I'm going the corporate route. I've sent out applications to several very different jobs. Only one is corporate, and I would love to do that job. The others are all, so far, academic, and I would love to do any of those jobs, too. I get so excited about each job, as I apply for it, and it's kind of hard to realize that I'm not going to hear back for a little while, and I need to keep looking. On one hand, it's a little rollercoastery and a little hard on the motivation, both to keep applying to places and to keep working on homework. On the other, hey, wow, there's a lot out there that I'm really excited to do. That's great, right?)

*Most of it comes down to "Not everyone attends information literacy classes, even on a college campus. Too many people are slipping through the cracks." Honestly, even tenured professors don't all know how to use the tools we provide, or to come to us for help; how many students do we miss? UVA and CMU both missed me (for real, my Master's thesis is online; I haven't had the gumption to go back and look, but I'm sure you can see how abbreviated my literature search was), even though I was one of those people fortunate enough to earn both an undergraduate degree and a Master's degree. What about all those folks who didn't, whose parents didn't take them to the library as a kid (or who were, like me, too shy ever to find out what a reference desk was [I know now :)]) and therefore don't even know librarians exist to answer their questions? How many people are finding bad medical, legal, or other information on the Internet, even as you read this? It's too big a problem to ignore, just for our own egos' sakes.

Calmer in the morning

I was in a bit of a tizzy last night, and cooler heads have reminded me that sometimes rebuttals happen. Still, the rebuttal (which made a few sweeping statements of its own, I thought) was pre-economic-downturn. The special libraries that decreased the size of the applicant pool are no longer as numerous, or as well funded. (While I realize that the plural of "anecdote" is not "data," something like three special libraries have closed in Pittsburgh, recently.)

I still believe that continuing to allow enrollment increases--or even keeping enrollment steady--would be short-sighted and unethical. I still think there are too many library schools. I still think 90% acceptance rates are a crime. But I am no longer going to storm my dean's office, I think.

Anger and frustration

Did you know there are roughly 5000 MLS/MLIS graduates per year? And if the 2-month sample of job openings discussed in this article in Library Journal is representative, there are roughly 400 full-time entry-level jobs being offered per year (this was circa 2005--imagine what it is now).

Yet, Pitt's iSchool is hiring five new faculty members (to replace others--no new positions that I'm aware of) and making no noises about decreasing admissions. I have no reason to believe the other 61 ALA-accredited library programs are much different.

How is this ethical? How do the deans of these schools sleep at night? Also, why are people still applying? (It might be that story that keeps going around about all of the librarians who are going to retire any moment now. Magically, despite the losses everyone's sustained in retirement funds. And of course people retiring from a lifetime of library work will leave entry-level positions open in their wake.)

My concern a few months ago, upon hearing that the acceptance rate in our program exceeds 90%, was that it was "watering down" the profession (I'm not trying to demean myself or my classmates, but even if we were a truly exceptional bunch of applicants, numbers like that shouldn't happen). Given Pitt's high ranking, I assume we aren't some crazy outlier; there must be other programs with comparable numbers. And that is a serious problem.

But then to learn that the bulk of the graduates in our school and others will not be finding full-time professional positions, on top of that? It frustrates and angers me. (Full disclosure: I'm one of the lucky ones; I can go back to my previous field if no library offers me a position before my loans come due. But I no longer see the MLIS I'm earning as the valuable asset--the clear gateway to a profession in which I could really improve the world--that I thought it would be. I am disenchanted, I guess, on top of my frustration and anger.)

Am I the only one? No, you know what? I know I'm not the only one. But why aren't we doing something? Why aren't library students picketing in the streets--or at least our deans' offices? Why aren't we writing to our schools' chancellors/presidents, to the ALA Council, to local and regional newspapers, to anyone who will listen, to prevent yet another crop of students from making the same mistakes we did--such as believing the ALA's over-optimistic job predictions? (Maybe we just don't know where to send our correspondence. Who listens to library students? I mean, there are 5000 of us graduating each year; individually, we're expendable.) Why aren't we demanding answers from our professors? Why do we let advice seeker after advice seeker on blogs and forums and listservs wander happily off, thinking their BA in history and semester of shelving books will be sufficient background to get a job in the library profession, if they just get that MLIS?

What's wrong with us?

One down, two-ish to go

I've started a few posts in my head, but only today did I realize that I didn't, you know, post any of them. It turned out that I didn't have the kind of down-time I expected to have during the break: classes (and projects) ran until the 11th, work kept going right up until the 19th, and I started both my field placement and volunteer position in work's "off" days, in addition to trying (and, it seems, failing) to knit a blanket, making Christmas presents, and just generally preparing for two back-to-back multi-state treks. I didn't actually get more than one Sunday at home, and I think I wasted most of it sleeping, instead of doing all of those cleaning/organizing projects I was hoping to do; so, I'm going into next semester with a still-messy apartment, some CSS glitches on my homepage, and just generally less stuff accomplished than I'd hoped...

Moving on to news and starting with the largest first, I decided not to apply to PhD programs. As much as I'd like to continue my education, I'm just not certain enough, one semester in, what specific things I want to work on. Also, as much as I want to work on pie-in-the-sky research--and, wow, would I--I am awfully tired of being a student: the undergraduate feel of my MLIS program has worn me down far more than I would have expected, going in. And while I know a PhD program wouldn't have the same kind of atmosphere to it, I still find my motivation to continue being a student is pretty much gone, for the time being. I want to go out in the world and do stuff.

On that note, I'll be attending the Electronic Resources & Libraries conference in February. I applied for a scholarship, and to my utter surprise and delight, I won. I think it will be a tremendous help to me, as that's the area of the field I'm looking at... but I don't feel like I fully understand what the current state of the art is, or where I would best fit in. I'll learn a lot and hopefully make some good contacts, there.

I'm still signed up for four classes and a field placement, in addition to my 13-hour-a-week internship and the most exciting volunteer position ever. Yep, it turned out my meeting was just a meeting, not an interview, and he actually had me start that afternoon. So, officially, I am a volunteer at the National Aviary, helping to put their library together. They have a small but solid collection of books and journals, which I will help to put in order. For now, their "catalog" will be an Excel spreadsheet; perhaps once I've got a handle on what's there and how much time it will take to get everything together I can talk them into an open-source OPAC of some sort. But there's plenty to keep me busy now.

The field placement is also going well. I didn't get enough hours in December to finish by the end of the spring semester, but I can take an incomplete and finish early in the summer. It's going to be a good experience: I should come out of it pretty knowledgeable about institutional repositories and open access.

It's going to be an incredibly busy semester, but I am excited.

Management -- Level up!

I am, for all intents and purposes (give or take a moderated post to a discussion board or three), done with LIS 2700, Pitt's not-so-briefly-named "Managing Libraries & Information Systems & Services." I have a "management portfolio" to show for it--an environmental scan, needs assessment, budget, staffing plan, and business plan, done as part of a group of five people--as well as a grant proposal. Neither's going on my webspace, because I ganked and modified a real university's logo to make the portfolio beautiful, and the grant proposal is for a real, live library. But if you're an employer who'd like to see whether or not I can produce a professional-looking document, send me an e-mail or leave a comment with your contact information, and I will happily provide you with one or both (pending permission, on the grant proposal).

I'm also pretty much entirely finished with LIS 2001, Organizing Information. I'm awfully sad to see that class go; it's been truly enjoyable. I don't have much I'm inclined to display from that class (I was very conversational in my writing style for those assignments), but I'll happily tell you all about the differences between MODS and Dublin Core, if you're interested in hearing about that. I even have a presentation, with image macros and a crosswalk.

(Yes, I used the word "ganked" in something an employer might see. This is, first and foremost, a blog. I imagine employers keep that in mind.)