Cite nonsense

Last year a friend asked for my help with a paper she was writing for a class – how should she cite a YouTube video? Her professor didn’t know the proper format, and my friend knew that “Go to YouTube and look for [title of video]” wasn’t correct. At the LIRT session I attending during ALA10, the student voice on the panel said “there are more citation styles than MLA!”, and Joyce Valenza’s survey backs up this poor student’s experience. What wasn’t discussed (or asked) was how one cites in the paper itself: footnotes, endnotes or parentheticals?

The Role of Reading

The recent twitter effort to get our senators to remember school libraries/librarians during their ESEA discussions made me think about the role of librarians – or, to be accurate, it was one of the things that made me think about our role. 

#AASL11 Reflections: HS – College Information Literacy

First of all, this wasn’t really about the entire continuum, it was more about the 12-13 disconnect. In other words, what we HS librarians think our students leave knowing, and what first year professors actually see when our students get there. The caveats of the study are that the students were from Catholic schools that essentially fed into the University of St. Thomas – I would love to see this replicated in other combinations (eg, independent schools to their top 20 acceptances or top state universities and the top high schools in their states).

The UST study found some differences from Megan Oakleaf/Patricia Owen’s research (see their article on TL). They approached it from the viewpoint of “what expectations should UST librarians have regarding the info lit skills of incoming freshmen”? (vs. the what do colleges expect = what HS wants to know approach) There has been much research into HS-College transition (the emotional issues, for example) but little empirical library research; there was a lot of introductory/trends/how I do it here/etc articles and presentations.

One practical suggestion was that students were lost when doing database research, as they’d come in looking for a product by provider/vendor name. Databases should never be arranged by vendors; they should be arranged A-Z or by subject, mimic academic libraries. This reiterates what I’ve heard at other presentations, when students get so comfortable with one database in high school that they don’t know there are others out there, or that the one they love may not be the most appropriate for their current research need.

The most interesting part was that UST looked at the comparison of HS librarians reporting to faculty reporting: we may think that we’re graduating information literate and skilled students, but their first year professors don’t see that. It was also interesting that for a large number of the faculty, the sense was that they could teach the appropriate skills in the classroom rather than bringing students (or sending them) to the library for instruction and assistance. I’ve seen this in high schools as well, from both “revered old timers” and “sweet young things” (and while some can teach the skills and guide students, often they really can’t or they don’t understand the school’s desired style and thus confuse students with competing expectations).

The ARCL standards were used, not AASL; I know there’s been a lot of work correlating AASL to NETS and AASL to Common Core, but how much work as there been on AASL to ACRL? I know one independent school that correlated NETS to ACRL, ignoring AASL completely. Radical thought? It might be really beneficial for HS librarians to ignore AASL’s standards and focus on ACRL’s as we prepare students for the next phase of their education.

Their research and presentation is online here (bibliography included). We were also advised to check out Megan Oakleaf’s work, Oakleaf’s work with Patricia Owen, and Head/Eisenberg’s Project Information Literacy.

Get active!

For the past couple of days, I’ve received several requests in my inbox and social media feeds.  For those of you who aren’t au courant, there’s a petition over on WhiteHouse.gov and a Twitter effort to influence our Senators. With qualifications, I’m endorsing them (and yes, I realize that my voicing my concerns/qualifications is a bit like airing the dirty laundry in front of the help).

#AASL11 reflections: technotreats

I’m always interested in how others are using technology (and technotools) intelligently in their schools – after all, we know that technology is only a tool, it’s not the answer to our pedagogical/programatic problems. Right? Here are some of my takeaways (and one rant) from the conference.

#AASL11 reflections: assessment/evaluation

Having worked in several NYSAIS evaluation committees (and written on the evaluation for accreditation process, I was interested in what my public school peers were doing vis-a-vis the NYS School Library Media Program Evaluation (SLMPE) Rubric. NYSAIS has recently updated its process and libraries aren’t mentioned (why? this is a huge mistake, imvho) and looking at this assessment piece reminded me that there’s little difference between independent and public school programs in terms of what we do – it’s funding, testing mandates and curriculum that changes. So in lieu of specific NAIS-sponsored assessments (although we do have the Guidelines of Professional Practice for Librarians), it would be a good idea to borrow from this as we self-assess/self-evaluate.

You want irony? #AASL gives you irony

The month of September is a big one for school librarians.  The entire month has been designated “Library Card Sign-Up Month” by ALA, which can be a great way for students to meet their local public librarians and to learn how they can be a real partner when doing research for school.

And then there’s Banned Books Week and the new Banned Websites Awareness Day.  ALA’s position (as I understand it) is that any time people are denied access to something, that’s censorship. Will Manley has posted on censorship and what it really means.  And while I’m not convinced that we should support the Citizen’s United decision,  I do think that many school libraries are selecting materials in a way that starts to verge on questionable, although it’s usually described as choosing books of value or merit; yet somehow no one can explain why Michael Moore or Al Franken have more value or merit than Ann Coulter, and I wonder how many are purchasing Cheney’s memoir.

But that’s not the reason for this post.  As this is September, the start of the academic year in the Northeast (my Southern friends started in August), it’s a good time to put all the thinking and reconsidering vis-a-vis program and pedagogy into practice.  I’ve always started my year with the goal of improving the program and introducing new ideas and ways to collaborate to colleagues, many of which I’ve read about during the previous year and spent summer time considering.  It’s also a good time to rededicate myself to being the librarian I wish I’d had in school, or to emulating those current librarians that I admire and hold up as exemplars of good practice.

Most important, it’s time to energetically reject the hallmarks of the Disposable Librarian.  Who is the Disposable Librarian?  This person is an amalgam of traits observed in those with whom the author has worked, the type of librarian who makes me cringe to think of in my profession.

Here’s where the whole irony thing comes in.

Back in 2007, when Alice Yucht and I were co-editors/managers of the AASLblog, we published a post about the Disposable Librarian.  Because the traits were based on real people, we agreed to anonymously publish the post (hoping of course that these people would read and recognize themselves and realize that perhaps these were not the best way to serve their schools and students).  Here’s what the start of the post looked like:

Want to read it?  Head over the cached version, because AASL has deleted the post.  Yes, the same organization that encourages school librarians to create displays of books that have been challenged and to fight filters has deleted a post from its officl blog.  Here’s what you see when you try to get to the post by clicking on a “regular” link:

To quote Alanis, isn’t it ironic?

Clone me now

Recently I was chatting with a friend, another school librarian.  She’d gone to the Do We Need Books in K-12 School Libraries? session  at ALA and I wanted to get her take on it.  When Cushing Academy originally announced it was going all digital, there’d been quite an uproar, but here we were two years later and there must have been some reflection and thoughts about the decision and process.

“I should just retire”

I’ve been hearing that, or versions thereof, for the past few years and recently it seems that every group of librarians I’m with includes one that is just giving up.  What’s causing this epidemic?  They’re feeling unappreciated and unwanted not by their schools or students, but by their own profession.

Yes, by their own profession.

The constant bombardment of “if you’re not keeping up with the leaders in the field you’re not pulling your weight so get out” messages (we all remember the things that kept Joyce and Doug up at night) doesn’t help.  Some are simply overwhelmed by the pace of change in tools and resources – they’re just getting into Twitter and all of a sudden there’s Google+ to master.  They update their websites and integrate blogs only to be told that they need to master Glogs and Prezi.  Blogging’s over, it’s now about vlogging.  And so on.  Administrators are asking them to cull carefully selected collections and to go digital, sometimes without understanding that what’s in print is not always in e-format.  After all, it’s all out there on the web, right?  And after fighting for flexible scheduling and integration/collaboration with the curriculum, they’re tired of fighting, particularly after this many years of service.

I also think about one of my high school friends.  When we had our 30th reunion last year, she talked about how she cared for her in-laws, going to their house a couple of times a week to clean and cook, managing the other caregivers and organizing their finances, etc..  She’s also taking care of her middle school daughter and her high school son, who is starting the college selection process.  Oh, and her husband “commutes” between Nashville TN and New Jersey.  This being part of a sandwich generation has been draining on her, and it’s no wonder she was slightly depressed. Luckily for her, she didn’t have to work a full-time job.

Now, imagine you’re a school librarian *and* you’re doing what my friend is doing.  Or that you have a special needs child.  Or maybe you have health issues.  Perhaps it’s not that complicated – maybe you volunteer somewhere, or are simply taking care of your family.  There are a million reasons why some of us leave the librarian part of our lives behind at times, and yet to keep up with all the changes and to stay relatively close to the movers, shakers and doers means that you can’t afford to do that.

What message are we sending our peers if we make them feel that they can’t possibly have a vibrant program without racing from one technology to another, reading every YA book out there so that the shelves have the hottest/latest reads, ensuring that you move from being the librarian to being an embedded member of the faculty and on and on?  Why can’t we applaud those that are doing the best they can with the resources and funding they have, changing at a pace they find comfortable?   Why do we all need to be like – well, you know the names as well as I do?

We need to make it a point to celebrate all our peers doing their best to make their programs rich, vibrant and student-centered. We must to encourage them not to retire but to try just one new thing, because one thing is doable, and to forget about the rest for now.  And all this “if you’re not doing all these things, we don’t want you here” must stop.  Now.  Before it’s too late.

Going GaGa

A recent post by The Daring Librarian, entitled Lady GaGa Librarians Unite, has gotten a bit of notice.  Gwyneth is also one of the members of the Geek Squad/Geek Tribe, about which I’ve posted before.   As luck would have it, I spent the other evening with one of my former students, a classical musician, and the topic came up.  It also came up in two conversations I’ve had, one with a librarian/mentor and the other with an academic librarian (who actually knew the Lady in question pre-title).

At the dinner, we were talking about another violinist, one that also attended the school.  My companion said that she found his look distracted from his music, and compared him to pop musicians like Lady GaGa: the look, the flash and antics are as much a part of the act as the music (sometimes more so).  Classical music, she said, was more subtle and emotional, with a longer-lasting impact on the senses.

Then in the other conversations, this comparison of librarians to Lady GaGa arose.  The more I think about it, the more I agree – gasp – with the Annoyed Librarian, who wrote that videos aren’t going to save libraries.  Neither will dressing in costumes, touting our tattoos or claiming that we’re like Lady GaGa.

Don’t get me wrong, I agree with the initial premise:

We need to establish a clear, pervasive, vibrant, and involved presence in their school, community, and on the web. The more visible librarians are the less likely that they’ll be taken away. Those teacher librarians who are hiding their brilliant programs under a bushel, that’s when they’re most likely to get cut. We need to stay positive, be proactive, and always be professional!”

But nothing there says “be Lady GaGa” to me.  Going for flash, for style over substance won’t help, it’ll hurt.  What we need to do is to embrace our inner classical musician – reach for that emotional connection to our students, our communities.   All the self-promotion and self-advocacy and “watch me! watch me!” antics in the world don’t help if they alienate people or overshadow our message.  The close connections, that “clear, pervasive, vibrant and involved presence” will help because those in the community will advocate for us, because the community will know how important we are to their student’s success and their teacher’s practice.

Furthermore, the more we ally ourselves with that type of image, be it Lady GaGa or a Geek Tribe member, the more we alienate librarians who aren’t, for whatever reason, interested in claiming those identities.  As one of my conversation buddies said, it smacks of an exclusive circle showing how exclusive they are by pretending to be inclusive – choosing different language that doesn’t have such an in-your-face effect will attract those who are taking baby (or toddler) steps towards vibrant, indispensable programs and those who are already quietly there.

(And for the record, Lady Bird Johnson did leave an impressive legacy to emulate: just as she taught us that “beauty is not a luxury”, we need to teach our communities that libraries and librarians are not a luxury.  Now that message I could go gaga over.)