Sorry students, I'm still not sure what happened there… but it was bad. And boring! How did this happen?

I will have to do some deconstruction over the next few days so as to not subject students to this lame content again… I think this might be one of those cases where I should have given some push back to the instructor about the plan of attack, but did not do so.

Also a place of not enough prep – or too much prep. I can't quite work that out.

Working with a student who came in at 8:30 to finish last night's ref consultation about her research paper. We're just getting into the substance of our collective research AHA! when a man approaches the desk.

He says, "Excuse me, I appreciate that you're…enthusiastic about whatever you're doing..but can you please be quiet now?"

I respond, "Actually, no, but we do have quiet study zones on the second floor. I'd be happy to help you locate a table there and ensure that it stays quiet — you know at least until the construction crew arrives in about an hour to start banging on things. We're in the midst of a remodel."

He says he knows that and that it's absolutely irrelevant to his request. I explain, in relatively sparing language, that the library as an entirely quiet space is an outdated modality (at MPOW) and that we welcome appropriate collaboration-related noise. We also do our best to protect defined quite zones (wall in the silence, not the noise, essentially).

I conclude that I think the best way forward is for us to both agree to moderate things – student and I will moderate our voices a bit and he can perhaps moderate his expectations of the library. Together we can find a place to respect and support everyone's needs.

His response? "Are you staff here?" (you know where that's usually leading) I explain that I am indeed faculty here and that it's my job to have these dialogs with students, here at the reference desk. I reiterate my hope that we can work together on this because it's our best way to respect one another's goals and keep things moving. He says, "I guess that's your way."

He returned to his seat, where he continued working for a while. Last I looked he was no longer there, wondering if that's because he left at a natural point for him or whether he left because he was upset. Truly, I don't want students to leave for any reason. I'm also not going to refuse to help other students based on dated expectations.

How are you helping your stakeholders to come to terms with collaborative space noise? Is yours a library that defaults to the silent model? If so, are you anticipating things remaining silent?

Further, how do you deal with the idea that you yourself are a stakeholder in the space as well? From my perspective, my stake may not be more important than my patrons' but it's certainly equally valid. I cannot support them without a bit of noise.

Working with a student who came in at 8:30 to finish last night’s ref consultation about her research paper. We’re just getting into the substance of our collective research AHA! when a man approaches the desk.

He says, “Excuse me, I appreciate that you’re…enthusiastic about whatever you’re doing..but can you please be quiet now?”

I respond, “Actually, no, but we do have quiet study zones on the second floor. I’d be happy to help you locate a table there and ensure that it stays quiet — you know at least until the construction crew arrives in about an hour to start banging on things. We’re in the midst of a remodel.”

He says he knows that and that it’s absolutely irrelevant to his request. I explain, in relatively sparing language, that the library as an entirely quiet space is an outdated modality (at MPOW) and that we welcome appropriate collaboration-related noise. We also do our best to protect defined quite zones (wall in the silence, not the noise, essentially).

I conclude that I think the best way forward is for us to both agree to moderate things – student and I will moderate our voices a bit and he can perhaps moderate his expectations of the library. Together we can find a place to respect and support everyone’s needs.

His response? “Are you staff here?” (you know where that’s usually leading) I explain that I am indeed faculty here and that it’s my job to have these dialogs with students, here at the reference desk. I reiterate my hope that we can work together on this because it’s our best way to respect one another’s goals and keep things moving. He says, “I guess that’s your way.”

He returned to his seat, where he continued working for a while. Last I looked he was no longer there, wondering if that’s because he left at a natural point for him or whether he left because he was upset. Truly, I don’t want students to leave for any reason. I’m also not going to refuse to help other students based on dated expectations.

How are you helping your stakeholders to come to terms with collaborative space noise? Is yours a library that defaults to the silent model? If so, are you anticipating things remaining silent?

Further, how do you deal with the idea that you yourself are a stakeholder in the space as well? From my perspective, my stake may not be more important than my patrons’ but it’s certainly equally valid. I cannot support them without a bit of noise.

I'm also just really cranky, not up to full-on curmudgeon yet, but a crank for sure. I can't help it, there are things about people that infuriate me. Millers are the worst, people who just mill around aimlessly when you're on a mission. Or any time. There's really no excuse for milling. Well, maybe at the art museum, but even that's milling with a purpose; I digress.

I'm left wondering what it is about me that perceives aimlessness as such a negative. I'm guessing it's all the stuff I am out there accomplishing while I am studiously avoiding taking on the labor of doing other less interesting things. I don't have time to mill around aimlessly. Maybe if I did I'd start calling it enjoying rather than milling.

Okay, no I'm lying. There would still be millers out there infuriating me.

I really do want to do more enjoying, however. I'm not sure how to get there. The first step was to be a happier person and I have taken great strides toward that goal. I really am a happy person, kind of furrowy and cranky, but genuinely happy. I love my life and the people in it (because I don't associate with millers, you see). I love being alive, it's really quite the thing.

It just seems that happiness isn't enough. Or rather, the adding in of a thing is a good start but may still require the subtraction of some other things. I've begun subtracting expectations, in the form of a weekly "digital disconnect" in which I am unavailable to anyone and her expectations via any mechanism other than a face to face visit. I'm also unavailable to my own ludicrous expectation that I work all the time. Not on my paying job, but the eleventy-seven other assorted jobs I take on.

What else can I subtract? Essentially, I want to subtract stress, but recognize that there are several other bits that make up that stress. I think that's a thing I chip away at with a tiny hammer rather than a pickax. I'd totally hurt myself with a pickax anyway. No good.

What have you added, subtracted, or otherwise strategized in the pursuit of happiness, wellbeing, and a general okayness with the universe? Do you have magical tips and tricks? (don't say meditation) Are you also a happy crank and just want to relate? I'm interested.

What are you calling your circulation desk?
What are you calling your reference desk?

That's it – any info you can share is most appreciated.

Also, food services just sniped at me for putting salad bar food into my own container and then paying for it. Apparently I need to use the paper bowl to measure out my leaves and then I am allowed to dump it into my container after I have purchased it.

facepalm

Sunday April 22
2:30-4pm
Vendetta – 4306 N Williams (at NE Skidmore)

Please bring your calendars/scheduling gadgets and a list of at least two potential keynote speakers with brief bio.

No RSVP needed. See you soon!