Talking about the MLS

Library Journal editor Michael Kelley stirred the proverbial hornet’s nest last week with his editorial “Can We Talk About the MLS? A Profession Based More on Apprenticeship Might Work Better.” Ambiguity and style aside (E. B. White would have a field day with that subtitle), the substance of the piece addresses a longstanding complaint in the library world: why should librarians have a professional degree (MLS means master of library science)?

Kelley based his apprenticeship argument on his own experience as a reporter and editor. While he may have had no problem breaking into journalism twenty-five years ago, it’s doubtful a newspaper today would hire someone without a degree, and there is no real equivalent professional degree in journalism that compares to the MLS. The apprenticeship he alludes to was really a paying of his dues, doing the work until he earned the respect of his journalism colleagues.  So I had a bit of trouble accepting his argument straight away, as it seemed to be standing on faulty ground.

The division in pay and status between MLS librarians and the staff who do similar if not equal work for lower pay is a problem. I am not sure why this is the case. Teachers may earn higher pay or rating and perhaps compete for administrative positions by completing a master’s degree, but I don’t think teachers with entry level degrees are treated any differently or expected to do any substantially different work in the classroom.  Why should library staff be any different? If there are hard feelings among staff over professional versus paraprofessional distinctions, the real challenge is to make none. A good library director should make all the staff feel valued and valuable, and a healthy workplace is one in which everyone feels they are heard and compensated fairly.

As to whether an MLS actually provides professional mastery, that is a separate issue, parallel to the current debate about what law schools should be teaching. Whether the MLS course of study is adequate preparation for being a librarian, whether it should include a practicum as teaching does, or a licensing system, like the bar, are questions worth exploring. To say that MLS programs don’t cover enough practical aspects of librarianship and therefore the degree is obsolete and an apprenticeship would suffice is a little like  saying we should eliminate medical school and let doctors go straight to residency.  Both theory and practice are important.

Kelley argues that “This is about greater inclusion. There is unlicensed talent up to the job.” Online MLS programs make it easier and cheaper than ever to obtain the “license” to which Kelley alludes; I know a talented and capable library staffer who recently enrolled in such a program. Why shouldn’t those who take the time and trouble to complete a professional degree be afforded greater responsibility and pay?

As to the question of rural libraries facing shortages of MLS librarians, other professions face such shortages and deal with them in a variety of ways.Kelley is correct that city systems replacing MLS librarians in order to save money ”does raise an awkward question about qualifications if service is not severely ­hampered.” How is that measured? It’s fortune telling to assume that the MLS librarians wouldn’t have made an impact if they’d stayed in their jobs. And why does either situation mean we should eliminate the professional credential in librarianship?

One problem Kelley didn’t address is that with or without an MLS, library staff are performing more non-library tasks, like technical troubleshooting and community policing. These things take time away from professional library work they might be able to do instead and the situation can lead to questions about what skills are really needed for their positions. It’s not that they are overqualified to be librarians, it’s that they are being asked instead to be guards and help-desk staff and babysitters.

Buy it now?

Yesterday I listened to a Library Journal webinar, “Are Books Your Brand? How Libraries Can Stay Relevant to Readers,”on readers’ advisory. I heard a number of good ideas to share with my boss and coworkers.  But one topic I found a little disturbing: “buy it now buttons” in library catalogs, so patrons can purchase rather than wait for a book.

All the panelists thought this was a good idea, worth promoting heavily so patrons would know a portion of  purchases benefited the library. What I found ominous was that one panelist suggested, based on his conversations with a group of library professionals, most libraries would incorporate “buy it now” in their catalogs without hesitation especially if publishers made it a condition of lending their books.

I don’t know whether publishers are considering that. But I’m especially wary because I know NoveList Select, a popular discovery tool for integrating readers’ advisory in catalogs, links to Goodreads reviews, and Amazon just bought Goodreads. I’d really hate to see Amazon be the sole “buy it now” option in any library catalog, especially ours, since we have an independent bookstore in town as well.

It appears that library “buy it now” buttons are already available through OverDrive. I know there are long wait times for popular e-books because of the restrictions publishers place on library e-lending. I was relieved to see OverDrive allows patrons to select from several stores, including IndieBound. I still don’t like it.

Yes, the mission of libraries is to promote reading and provide access to reading materials. But libraries are also free and our resources are freely available to all. It’s already possible for someone who doesn’t want to wait for a book to go buy it. Why should we alter our mission to provide e-commerce?  A better alternative would be to educate library patrons about why there is such a wait for popular e-books (thanks to Brian Herzog at Swiss Army Librarian for noting that link on his blog).

Libraries could also do more to provide readers’ services to those on long waiting lists. Sometimes the print version of a popular e-book is sitting on the shelf  – wouldn’t it be nice if patrons could see that when they place an e-book hold, or get a message to that effect? A good suggestion I heard on the webinar was to make a “read alike” handout for books with long waiting lists to give people at the service desk — why not email it to those placing e-book holds? Or, email patrons who get on the list for a book with 5 or more holds, inviting them to reply with likes and dislikes (or even use a nifty reader’s advisory form like this one, mentioned in the webinar) and receive personalized reading recommendations from a librarian?

I would think that gaining support by providing excellent professional service is the key to a library’s long term well being, to a far greater extent than the bit of money possibly on the table with “buy it now.” I hope libraries stay out of e-commerce and instead focus on being an indispensable resource for readers in our communities.

Coexist

A friend forwarded this infographic about e-books and print books complementing each other. Perhaps despite all the impassioned arguments for and against e-reading, and the debate about how libraries should respond, the dust will settle and we’ll find ourselves in a world not so different than the one we know, with both print and digital books.

At least since library school (twenty(!) years ago) I’ve been hearing both media and anecdotal reports about how few kids and teens read, and yet studies keep showing they are reading. The LA Times/USC poll cited in the infographic found that 84% of people 18-29 like to read. And according to the Pew report “The Rise of E-reading,” 58% of 18-24 year olds and 54% of 25-29 year olds use the library, and the average for all age groups over 18 was nearly 58%.

A Gallup poll in 2007 determined than only 45% of Americans are baseball fans. Libraries beat baseball by 13 percentage points? Maybe reading should be the national pastime? By the way, baseball games are great places to read.

But I digress. The point is, e-books are here to stay, but it’s pretty likely that instead of making print books go away, the two will coexist. And perhaps more people will have the experience someone I know has had: her Kindle was fine for awhile, but she missed regular books, and going to the library. She hasn’t used her Kindle in awhile. It’s not that she didn’t like it, just that the novelty wore off and she went back to “real” books.

I wonder if anyone has studied how long people use their e-readers before they get put in a drawer? Tablets change the dynamic a bit, but I know I’ve had an unopened e-book on my Ipad for a few months now. Out of sight, out of mind, unlike the piles of books beside my chair, sofa, and bed, which beckon to me nightly.

Shushing

Much has been made lately, including here at Nocturnal Librarian, about the future of library services. From internet access to unusual lending items to maker spaces and even bookless libraries, our profession is innovating to stay relevant.  But two articles recently caught my eye that made me wonder if a) we don’t have an image problem after all, we’ve just fallen off the radar of too many people and b) we should remember what we already do best before we go reinventing libraries.

First I saw Brian Kenney’s Publishers Weekly piece “Libraries: Good Value, Lousy Marketing,” about the Pew report Library Services in the Digital Age. His take is that libraries are doing fine with the people who are already using our multiplying services and programming, but that we aren’t marketing ourselves to the rest of America. If only they knew that we were offering snacks, classes, supervised after school activities, invention workshops, and places to hang out, they’d come, goes this line of thinking. Which on the surface, makes sense. If we’re in the midst of revolutionizing library services for the “digital age” then we have to tell people we’re not their grandmother’s library.

One of the first comments I read pointed out the chicken-and-egg problem this presents: funding and staffing is often contingent on demonstrated library use, and all those amazing programs and services require funds and staff. Libraries often have minuscule marketing budgets. In many cases even our websites are not entirely in our control, because city or county IT departments are managing them. But even assuming shoestring PR tools like public service announcements on TV and radio, community bulletins in newspapers, and social media tools, it takes staff to do marketing, and staff to create and provide all the whiz-bang new offerings. We might get budget increases if we prove people are coming, and they won’t come without our letting them know, so  . . . .

Then I read something which struck me as equally important, maybe even more so: at Salon.com, Laura Miller writes that what she noticed in the Pew study is that percentage wise, almost the same high number of respondents — 76% —  mentioned quiet spaces as an important library service, which is, as Miller notes: “only one percentage point less than the value given to computer and Internet access. A relatively silent place to read is almost exactly as valuable to these people as the Internet!” (emphasis Miller’s)

One of the first things people ask me if they haven’t been in the library for awhile is where to find a quiet spot. There’s almost nowhere else to go in most communities to have quiet space to read, write, imagine, think, in short, to be still.  Most librarians don’t actually “shush” anymore, but Miller is right, if we allow ourselves to be as busy and boisterous as any old Starbucks, we’ve lost one of the most unique things we have to offer.

Oh you beautiful doll

A few months ago I blogged about library service of the future and mentioned unusual lending collections. This morning I read a wonderful New York Times piece by Corey Kilgannon about a really cool example: a circulating American Girl doll at the Ottendorfer branch of the New York Public Library. Someone had donated the doll, the library thought it was too valuable to display, and it was sitting around on a shelf until a creative children’s librarian, Thea Taube, decided to let children borrow her.

Apparently there is no precedent or policy for cataloging or circulating a doll in her library system, so Taube “kept it unofficial,” allowing kids to take the doll home without asking for library cards or identification. That this would happen anywhere in contemporary America, let alone in our largest city, floored me. I can just hear the naysayers insisting the doll would never be seen again.

This unofficial doll-lending has gone on for years, and although the doll’s hair is now matted and her accessories have been lost (due to what Taube says is “a lot of love”) she has always been returned. The article explains she’s been a treat both for kids whose families couldn’t afford an American Girl doll and those whose parents opposed buying the toy on principle.

I can’t say what I love best about this story: the innovative thinking on the part of the librarian, the fact that her nontraditional idea worked so beautifully and for so long, the hand-written note (from a child who took the doll home) that ran with the story, the varied experiences of the children who borrowed her and the ways the doll touched so many lives? I love the whole thing.

Kilgannon writes that Taube feels the doll lending “exemplified the library as a community center” and closes by quoting Taube: “I tell the kids that the library belongs to them.” I am still smiling about this, just thinking of how those kids will feel about libraries for the rest of their lives.

What’s in your library’s storage room that could be a creative lending item?

Bookless libraries?

No doubt you’ve seen the provocative headlines regarding Bexar County, Texas and its planned “bookless public  library,”  the BiblioTech. Librarians across the country must be scratching their heads, since so many e-books are not available to libraries, pricing for others is much higher than for consumer editions and beyond library budgets, and lending restrictions lead to long wait times for patrons.

Mashable reports, ”County officials say the BiblioTech venture will remove barriers to library access.”  I’m not even sure what this means, but it seems the officials may be unaware of the fact that their new library won’t be able to offer all the books a traditional library would. If that’s not enough, it seems a pretty big barrier to access if you need to either check out one of the library’s e-readers or have one of your own to read a book, especially since the population of Bexar County is 1,756,153 and the BiblioTech only plans to have 100-150 e-readers to circulate (media reports vary).

Even if reports of increases in tablet and e-reader ownership are accurate, that leaves hundreds of thousands of people with no way to read the BiblioTech’s digital books. Every person who enters a traditional library can access most of the collection without any special technology. THAT is barrier-free access to information.

It turns out the new all digital library is the brainchild of a judge, not a librarian. Judge Wolff says it will resemble an Apple store. Besides e-readers and the digital book collection, the BiblioTech will have meeting space and study rooms and the San Antonio Express-News reports the new library will have “personnel available to help library users with homework or other research.” Personnel? Will there be librarians?

I guess it’s pretty clear that I am skeptical. A public library that has no books seems to me to be a community download center, not a library. I’m sure some of you will disagree, and I’d like to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment and chime in!

Against best books

It’s the time of year when media outlets are publishing gift guides and “best books of the year” lists. I am contributing a suggestion to my own local newspaper’s holiday book recommendations. And it might sound contrarian, but I’m not recommending a book. Here’s what I’m submitting instead:

I spent days considering what book to recommend. Every time I settled on one, I reconsidered. My idea of the perfect gift book is not going to be yours, and might work for your sister but not for your grandfather, your niece, or your teen. So I suggest the gift of professional reading advice.

This year, wrap a library card application and a gift card to your local independent bookstore. These two places offer what no big box or online mega-seller can: good old fashioned readers’ advisory. In other words, staff who can help anyone who walks through the door choose a book after a few minutes’ conversation. Both libraries and indie bookstores have e-books as well, so this gift works for even your most techie friend. If he already has a library card but hardly ever uses it, pick up or print out the latest brochure on the library’s services and activities, which have probably changed in the past few years. If your gift recipient uses the library regularly, honor her with a donation.

I’d include a short guide to excellent readers’ websites, apps,blogs, and podcasts, like Goodreads, Books on the Nightstand, NancyPearl.com, ReadKiddoRead, or LibraryThing. Visit these sites, copy and paste information about them onto one neat page, and print it on pretty paper. Add a homemade coupon good for an outing with you to the library or bookstore and a treat after, and you’ll give a gift unique to each recipient that no one will return.

Bookmobiles to the rescue

I have fond though somewhat vague memories of visiting a bookmobile when I was a kid. A recent thread on the New Hampshire State Library’s email list confirmed that most libraries in this area of the United States no longer have bookmobiles. I’m hoping some of them are in storage somewhere.

This morning in the New York Times I was happy to read that in the Rockaways, where several Queens Borough Public Library branches were damaged by Hurricane Sandy, an old bookmobile bus is making a real difference to residents impacted by the storm. The article says that while information, power outlets, and free coffee were the initial draws, books are what people are seeking now. And that the staff actually drove to Connecticut for fuel. Librarians rock.

American Libraries reports on the Queens bookmobile as well as the library’s programs for families in area shelters. The article also mentions other flooded and damaged libraries in New Jersey, New York, and Massachusetts, and efforts to aid their recovery. Galley Cat reported on storm aid from publishers for libraries and schools, and also noted that Brooklyn Public Library’s bookmobiles were delivering relief supplies earlier this month. The library’s website listed other ways they are helping storm victims, from online learning to pop up library service.

So if your library has a mothballed bookmobile, it might not be a bad idea to give it a tune-up from time to time. It may come in handy if there is a natural disaster. And it also might be wise to think about how your library could help the community in case of a large-scale emergency. Our colleagues in  Sandy-impacted states are providing plenty of inspiration.

Maker spaces

I’ve noticed library maker spaces in the news lately. In case you don’t know about maker subculture, Wikipedia defines it as “a technology-based extension of DIY culture” encompassing engineering and “traditional” crafts. Libraries have plenty of non-book related events — movie nights, video gaming, anime clubs, knitting circles. I guess in a way “maker space” is an extension of this outreach, and like all of the other activities it can be a chance to showcase the parts of a library’s collection relating to the hobby at hand.

But I work in a library where space is so limited that a large number of books in our adult collections are in storage. One library in Indiana solved the space issue by putting its maker space in a trailer. Even so, I wonder about the wisdom of devoting space, staff expertise, and budget to a service that I think is arguably beyond a library’s core mission. Yes, libraries promote literacy and maker services are a gateway to S.T.E.M. subjects everyone worries are lagging in America.

I guess my feelings on this topic are mixed because this is the classic conundrum for libraries: do we go the cool and trendy route, embrace new technologies (like 3D printers or Espresso print-on-demand book machines), invest in specialized staff training and equipment on the theory that this will draw more library patrons who we aren’t reaching? Or do we stick to our traditional services (albeit modernized to include mobile technologies, e-readers, etc.), including reader’s advisory and reference, because no one else does them like we do?

I know there is a very strong “innovate or die” camp in the library world. And I’m not a total luddite. But I hope libraries’ main role will  always be to help readers find books and vice versa.

All Hallow’s Read

It’s strange to me what a big deal Halloween has become. It’s now a major holiday for retailers, with a 2011 survey by the National Retail Federation estimating Americans spend $7 billion on the holiday (we’re not the only ones; this Ottawa Sun article notes Canadians spend about $300 each on Halloween).

I’m not that into it myself. But I like Neil Gaiman‘s idea, which he first posted on his blog in 2010: “I propose that, on Hallowe’en or during the week of Hallowe’en, we give each other scary books. Give children scary books they’ll like and can handle. Give adults scary books they’ll enjoy.”

This “modest proposal” has grown into All Hallow’s Read, a movement to give and read books for Halloween. If you’re not sure you like scary stories, widen your horizon a bit and read something that scares you but might not be filed under horror (political ads are certainly both plentiful and scary this year). For fans of teen dystopia, why not share Shirley Jackson‘s short fiction, including “The Lottery,” published in 1948. In 2010 The New Yorker called it  ”perhaps the most controversial short story” the magazine has published. It won’t scare you in the slasher-film way; it’s thought-provokingly disturbing and something Hunger Games fans might appreciate.

Gaiman has posted lists of suggested books from various sources and for various ages as well as printables for celebrating All Hallow’s Read’s. One cool link:  print a mini book version of The Raven to fold and share. Which brings me to New Hampshire’s Big Read, organized by the NH Center for the Book as part of the National Endowment for the Arts Big Read program, and focused on the works of Edgar Allan Poe this fall. Find out more about Poe programming at libraries around the state here.