This morning, I thought I would try something different in my “Using Library Resources” class. In the past, students seemed reluctant to ask questions. I had been told by my more experienced colleagues to expect this, but I’m just not convinced this is business-as-usual. Perhaps it’s me; perhaps it’s the fact that I only teach 9 am classes. Whatever the cause, I wanted to generate more inquiry.

So I decided to give PollEverywhere a try. I set up a poll that I kept live throughout the entire session where students could submit free-form questions. I gave the students the URL and told them to ask questions at any time. I planned to go over all of them at the end…

Except there were no questions.

So I moved on to my closing statements. At the end of class, after the students filled out the evaluation sheets (What did you learn? What are you still unsure about?), there were two very good questions. Why didn’t these students ask me about this before they left?

In retrospect, introducing the poll at the beginning of class was not the best approach. It gave the impression early on that we didn’t have time for questions (there was a lot to go over) and probably precluded the students’ impulse to ask me anything.  But through the evaluation, I learned that there were questions and aspects of library research that I didn’t explain clearly for at least two students.

Instead, I should have set aside 5 minutes at the end of class and then prompted the students to submit questions via the poll site. I could then quickly assess the most important topics and address them as time permitted. It would also have allowed me to clear up any misunderstanding before the students filled out the evaluation forms, rather than after.

So next time, I’ll try that instead. It was a mistake, but one worth making.

1. Boolean is a funny word.
2. It’s a strategy you should use at the last minute.
3. It can help you plan your lunch menu.

Without question, the best video on Boolean search goes to the University of Sydney and will make the perfect addition to your Friday fun time. Enjoy!

Useful, albeit lacking megafauna: Georgia State University, University of Kansas, and the University of Waterloo.

According to a 2009 report, a Harvard Libraries task force (of 29 members) held two open forums, multiple focus groups with students and faculty, and sent three campus-wide emails requesting input on the library system. Based on feedback from these solicitations and library data, the task force created a set of recommendations for the administration who then set about to plan the logistics of the reorg. In the spirit of inclusiveness: Was this enough?

I will admit that I’m not entirely settled in my opinion of the matter, though generally I feel that Harvard Libraries is doing the best it can considering the size and scope of the institution. It does, however, raise the question: What does it mean for an institution to be “inclusive” in its decision-making processes? Also, given Harvard’s size, are there limitations to how inclusive an organization can be?

We give a lot of lip service to transparency and the ability of technology to break down traditional organization barriers, but if this new era of flattened org structures and increased collaboration has taught us anything it is that we are far more varied in our opinions, skills, ethics, and practices than we ever thought before. Given this complexity, perhaps “the executive decision,” as a [traditional] tool of moving an organization forward and instigating change is even more necessary than before.

But then, maybe no one has tried hard enough to make these new communication structures work. Given its resources, Harvard is the one institution that could have made it happen. Anyone else want to give it a go?

I understand that the controversy is more about the loss of jobs and alleged lack of transparency, but what else, as librarians and as professionals, would we expect? Streamlining always results in a loss of jobs (or to use an awful phrase employed by this author, “involuntary staff reductions”). When you have 73 libraries operating semi-autonomously, there is bound to be some overlap in functions. But I digress…

My two cents about the matter is this: in order to become better organizations in a quickly changing, digitally-centered environment that demands higher levels of access in a landscape of fierce competition from non-librarian-based forces, libraries need to be agile. And agility, metaphorically or physically, requires one to be slim and sleek.

Perhaps that makes me sound cold, but then, as a professional I take a practical approach to my work: I know that I could lose my job at any time. Not because of anything personal (except maybe bow ties). Not because I am not an effective worker (I am, check my stats). And not because I’m dispensable (come on, you know you can’t live without me). No, I know I could lose my job at anytime because I cannot predict the future shape of libraries. None of us can. And if we cannot know the layout of our future home, how can we know if all the stuff we currently have will fit in it?*

Steven Bell says it well:

Restructuring is happening all around us. At every government level, in national associations, at your institution, and even at the mighty Harvard. It is a sign of the times, and we need to adapt. The first step is to separate the symbolism from the reality. If we can understand that restructuring is not about destroying core institutional values, but about strengthening our institutions for future survival, then we can move forward. When we do, we will discover new and possibly better ways to honor the past, and the values we hold so dear.

It is a tricky business, as Bell says, but we need to think about what is best for the institutions that academic libraries claim to support: the students, the faculty, and the university. If we fail to serve their needs, then we need to change what we’re doing or get out of the way.

*I am moving into a new house this month, hence the metaphor.

The wrong address? Or a letter from the future! I’m not sure which part of this mistake excites me the most: being in a position of leadership or having an office in Doheny. Happy Friday!

I’ve been thinking about the definition of reference. In fact, I was asked to define reference services at MPOW for a task force charged with determine ways to increase “discoverability” of library services. We ultimately defined reference as:

“mediated information seeking which
 utilizes the expertise of librarians to connect users with library 
resources. This includes both formal and informal reference transactions, especially those which teach users how to analyze and assess the value of 
information, its accuracy, and its appropriate use.”

This came out of various discussions about RUSA’s definition and one offered in Rosemarie Riechel’s book on youth reference services (I especially like the phrase “mediated seeking”). But why this particular definition? Why these choices of words?

I wanted to accomplish two things with this definition. First, I wanted to define reference services more holistically, not as a technical act but as a philosophy of service. To wit: providing reference should establish, build upon, and leverage the relationship between us and our users (“mediated information seeking”) and between our users and information (“connect users with library resources”).

Secondly, I wanted to highlight that reference requires unique skills and highlights the specialization of librarians (“expertise of librarians”): we are more than just “human googlers.” We learn to rely as much on non-verbal queues as verbal ones. We understand the nuances of human information behavior, especially in research environments, and we are able to respond with timely and appropriate resources.

As a task force, we struggled with defining the scope of reference. We considered everything from directional questions at the ref desk to curriculum-wide information literacy instruction. However, reference shouldn’t be equated with public services. It is an instructional activity, either formal or informal, that (ideally) teaches each user about the role of information in (1) her life; (2) her work; and (3) in society. Additionally, I intentionally left out any mention of technology or format (e.g. email, chat, phone, etc.). The definition is format agnostic and is applicable to any situation in which librarians, information, and users come together.

Admittedly, the definition’s scope is broad. Reference can occur anywhere within the library system, both physically and virtually. It is more than just the public face of the library: it is the personal face and the point at which human relationships develop. Accordingly, with the recommendations of the task force, I hope we can unify the libraries’ approach to reference through assessment, standardization, innovation, and leadership.

Though I won’t be present when our recs are presented to the administration, I’m looking forward to hearing the response.

photo credit: from sickmouthy on flickr (used under Creative Commons BY-NC 2.0)

Propose a Paper for ACRL 2013

ACRL invites Contributed Paper proposal submissions for the ACRL 2013 Conference to be held April 10-13, 2013, in Indianapolis. Proposals are due May 11, 2012, and can be submitted via the online form.

CRL challenges you to imagine, innovate and inspire your colleagues with proposals that explore the most dynamic and challenging issues and ideas facing academic and research librarians today. Tag proposals with up to three of the 40 keywords available in the Call for Participation. The tagging system will draw connections among the conference content and help participants sort through the wide variety of dynamic interactions that define ACRL conferences.

Complete details about ACRL 2013, including the full call for participation, are available on the conference website. Questions about the Call for Participation or ACRL 2013 should be directed to Margot Conahan at (312) 280-2522 or mconahan@ala.org.

The pilot project gave 11 faculty members $1,000 each to create a digital alternative to a traditional textbook. To enliven their students’ reading, the instructors pulled together primary-source documents and material culled from library archives. [...] The Temple program mirrors a similar effort announced at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst in December.

I don’t remember the details of a single textbook that I used as an undergrad, but I do remember the hand-curated course packets that a small handful of my profs put together. Not only do these leverage library resources (and with digitization, special collections), but they add a personal touch to instruction, as if to say, “What we read and discuss in this class is important to me so I’ve taken the time to pull this material together for you.”

You can find more info on the project at Temple’s website.

What role should 21st century colleges have in helping students to develop hands-on, manual skills? That is the question Scott Carlson asks in this week’s Chronicle Review. At a time when “sustainability” is not just a way of acting ethically but a popularized lifestyle choice, it’s easy to see the appeal of this type of instruction.

One passage in particular caught my attention. Drawn together by a common interest and a human desire to be makers, students at the University of Vermont formed their own artisan guilds:

L. Pearson King, a junior environmental-studies major, taught his peers how to carve spoons in a woodworking guild last year. “It’s kind of trivial, but it’s also cathartic and kind of fun,” he says of the project, and the students in his group were immensely proud of their work. “To be active in the creation of an item forms a completely different relationship with that item.”

Maybe there is something to the guild approach that libraries can build off of. While information literacy is not as necessary to human survival as being able to build shelter or cook food (pending the zombie apocalypse), it is still a vital skill for 21st century life. For universities that do not have information literacy instruction (ILI) built into the curriculum, librarians have constantly struggled to find ways not only to integrate ILI, but to assess it. If your only interaction with a student is the one-off, how do you know if it sticks?

Could the library be a catalyst for “information guilds” or “technology guilds”? : groups of students that come together over a shared interest to get their hands dirty with information and to build [digital] objects. Could the library be an instigator for hacker co-ops, infonistas, techno-mavens, and virtual gurus?

The first objection that comes to my mind is “There’s no need for it.” But isn’t there? How many students come to us frustrated with an inability to even conduct simple research tasks? How many more students never approach us because they don’t know where to begin?

As someone who can’t tell a circular saw from Adam, I can relate to the frustration of not knowing where to start due to a lack of what is actually very basic knowledge. Guilds like the ones formed by the Vermont students inspire just enough confidence and self-awareness to initiate the process of making. As librarians, are we in a position to inspire these types of groups with a focus on information and technology? How do we begin?

photo credit: from ell brown on flickr (used under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 2.0)

I’ve only been coming to library-related conferences for about two years now, but it’s nice to be at that point where I can begin to see the professional arcs that individuals take. Librarianship is a dynamic profession, one that requires constant change (Rule #5!). I’m glad to see so many librarians making that happen. Onward and upward, my friends!