Over the past few years I’ve been thinking about names – names of resources, names of facilities, titles, etc.. It seems like we all do, in one way or another, and now that we’re redesigning the library website and rethinking the facility, it’s time to do even more thinking.
Resource names are easy, right? Well… maybe not so much. For years now I’ve heard many academic librarians complain that students come to them asking for EBSCO or ProQuest, not GreenFile or American Poetry. At one session, when the question was raised, the academic librarian was shocked that the only databases the school could provide were those that came free from the state, and that there was only one EBSCO database (probably some version of Academic Search). So why, though the school librarian, should one differentiate? And then there’s the thing we used to call a pathfinder. Most of us now use Springshare’s LibGuides platform (let’s not discuss the Team Lib and Team Libe issue!) and refer to them as LibGuides, which seems to me to be like making every tissue a Kleenex. After all, some schools use Haiku or Moodle or WordPress to create similar objects. So at MPOW and at MFPOW, we call them Resource Guides. And catalogs! Are they OPACs? Are they still “card” catalogs (as many of my older colleagues call it)? Do you give it a feline-related name, like NYU’s BobCat, or NYPL’s LEO? Decisions… decisions…
What we call the space we work in is also fraught. Many politicians, donors and parents want students to have a library (in theory – funding can be another matter). But what about the far sexier “information commons” or “learning commons”? Or the still popular “library media center”? And should it include a makerspace? At one school with a primarily digital collection, it’s still called a library. Another school is considering building an athenaeum. Within the space, do you still have a periodicals or reference room? Are they still used for those purposes? I’ve worked in libraries that have donor-designated names for spaces, some of which are flexible (great for when you move things around or repurpose spaces) and some of which require asking if the Shakespeare Nook can now be used for graphic novels. It’s also complicated if there’s a major renovation in a space which has already been named, because you can’t just cross out the old and bring in a new one. One school has three named spaces in about a 1,000 square foot library!
If you work in a library, are you a librarian? What about Director of Research? or Information Specialist? or Chief Information Officer? or Library Media Specialist? I’ve seen all of them on business cards and in e-mail sig files. As with the name of the facility, is it confusing for others? If I were a parent, would I know what my child was doing if they came back from the learning commons having had an hour of media literacy? Perhaps to the Higher Powers that run our schools, that matters less than having the “in” title or facility name, no matter what the actual contents are or instruction delivered. It seems that in the race to show relevancy, comprehension can get lost.
As for me, I’d love to work as the Resourceress in an Infomatorium, showing students how to look for resources by asking our Online InfoCat. You?