Focusing on the Positive

I've been thinking a lot lately about my role as a librarian and where or how I fit into the librarian "mold". This academic year I am the Chair of the Library Department and it's been such an interesting (and challenging) experience as I work through what it means to be in this leadership role. New things often cause me to question my abilities and myself and, to be honest, I'm struggling a lot lately with self doubt.

For example, this year I am often tempted to think that:

• I am not an expert leader or librarian. 
• There are colleagues in my department who are much more skilled in talking about information literacy, institutional culture, departmental goals, and at interacting with administration. 
• I am not an expert at reference interviews and I am not good at teaching classes.

But.

If I am willing, new things can also help me learn about myself and my strengths. Not feeling like an expert doesn't mean I am bad at those things. I am learning that while I may not always consider myself an expert librarian, I am really good at doing certain things which help my department and students. If I don't focus on these good things I am easily intimidated, wondering if I am the right person for this leadership role or for the library. (My poor husband has talked me off the "I'm quitting my job!" ledge more than once this academic year.)

So, in order to focus on the positive, here is a list of things I have discovered and re-discovered this school year:

• I am getting really good at writing diplomatic emails and seeing the good in what everyone is saying and doing. I like to find the middle ground!
• I am good at helping students who need only a little encouragement and help.
• I am really good at (and really enjoy!) chat reference -- helping students online via chat service.
• I am good at listening to my colleagues when they need to talk.
• I am an energetic teacher and good at explaining things simply and directly. I don't use big words...and that's ok!
• I really enjoy working with English language learners.
• I'm good at welcoming the sheepish, "I'm new to the library" or "I have a stupid question" students.

So, there you have it. My attempt at positive self talk.

I am learning so much about myself and about leadership this year. And about how to believe in myself when I feel inadequate and overwhelmed. But I am reminding myself to focus on the positive and on my strengths.

And I am reminding myself (again and again!) that doing hard things, the things that scare me or feel overwhelming, are always worth doing.

I feel so out of my comfort zone lately.
So here's a reminder of a time I was totally in my element: in Africa. :)

A Library of Donations

One of the most widely read posts on this blog is one that I wrote right after I arrived in Uganda, in 2011. I had helped sort through a large donation of books and was wrestling with what I saw. It was disheartening to see so many books shipped to Africa with such little use to the library. I wrote about book donations and often during my 18 months in Uganda, I wrestled with what it was like to work in a library made up primarily by donations.

This past summer we also saw the ramifications of book donations to KEST. They had received book donations that included hundreds of copies of the same title. While the titles themselves were not be bad per se, 100 copies were certainly unnecessary for a library. We talked about what the school could do with them: book sale, give to students, give at outreach events, etc. But it just seemed like such a shame that some organization would spend so much money to send/give books that were ultimately not helpful to the library's collection. And ultimately those organizations put the burden on the library and school to figure out what to do with all those books.

Recently, I found this study, which I found fascinating. [It's long! You can read a summary in this newsletter.] The study speaks to the bigger picture of book donations in across Africa. And the importance of supporting local, African publishers as opposed to just shipping in lots of books from Europe and the US. The study describes many of the things I've seen while being on the receiving end of donations. I remember asking myself and others, where can you buy books that have been printed here, in Africa? How can books and reading be made more accessible? Are donations the best way to build a library collection?

Last year, at my job here in Minnesota, we weeded a large number of books from our collection. We were able to offer a number of them to students. And some we were able to send to Better World Books. [I confess, I don't know much about Better World Books but I do know that they take donated books and try to resell them before re-donating them.] But there were also some that we had to recycle. People from campus asked why we were recycling instead of donating the books to another non-profit. For many people, the thought of throwing away books is almost sacrilegious. But the reality is, for many countries in Africa [and probably other developing countries], our time and money would be better spent supporting local publishers and authors, instead of shipping our old books around the world.

The community developer in me thinks about issues like this all the time. How can I be a part of the bigger story of publishing, books, and information access around the world? What can I do with old books [both personally and at work] that builds into sustainable models of literacy development? What things are already happening in publishing around the world that I can support?

I don't have answers yet. I may never have answers. But I hope that by asking the questions I can be a part of the solution.

And I can remind my readers [whoever and wherever you are] to think about where you send your old books. :)

Moments

I show a student how to search for their topic in the library's databases and I literally hear a sigh of relief when they see how many articles they can find.

A student stops to tell me that the library is too cold (it is!) and then ends up talking to me for 20 minutes about her children and family. And what it's like to be a mother of four, working full time, and going to school. And how her sister was here but is thankfully ok.

The student who greets me every day in Swahili comes up to ask me a question. He asks the entire thing in Swahili and after processing what he said, I respond in English. And then tell him I don't know enough Swahili. And he laughs, telling me, "You know, you know. Try." As I walk away he is still smiling.

I teach a class and make the students laugh when I say something incorrectly. We laugh together and I hope I have just shown them that librarians are human...and not scary.

I chat with another faculty member about an assessment project we did last year in the library. I tell him how students who reported using Google as their first research (before using the library or anything else), had higher rates of failure in the class. And we laugh; this is not a surprise to us.


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These moments. These are why I became a librarian.

This semester has been crazy. For a lot of reasons both personal and professional. But I choose -- I am choosing -- to slow down and remember these moments. And to treasure them.

I often say in my classes that I became a librarian because I enjoy helping students. And yet, it's easy to get caught up in the lesson planning, meetings, reports, statistics, book buying, and details and forget the people.

So today I'm taking time to remember the moments. The people. What I love about my job.

How Traveling Made Me a Better Librarian

My library 'career' started over fifteen years ago, with a job at my local public library at age 16. Since then I've held a variety of positions in a number of different libraries. And I've enjoyed the opportunity to understand libraries from multiple positions and levels. I believe that those positions  make me a good librarian because I understand comprehensive library workflow and understand how all the positions in a library work together to provide access to patrons.

But as I'm reflecting on this past summer in Uganda, I believe it's my time in Africa that has really made me the librarian I am at this point. Not because I gained important library skills [which I did!] but because by it's nature, travel changes us. Traveling to new countries and cultures allows us to see the world in news ways and to get outside ourselves and our own experiences. And those are the ways that have had the greatest impact on me, and ultimately on my career.

For example, I am more compassionate toward students since living in Uganda. I've always had great empathy for others. Recently I even found my Preschool Report Card that said "Rachel is very sensitive to the other students." Apparently I've always cared about other people. :) But spending time with my students in Uganda gave my heart even more compassion for them and others. I often say that I am not a particularly great librarian. That is, I don't always ask the perfect questions when I'm helping someone and I may not be the best teacher in the classroom. But I show students compassion and empathy so that they felt heard and understood in the midst of their research frustrations. Which ultimately, I hope, does make me a great librarian.

I've also learned to slow down. In East African culture, life moves at a slower pace than here in the US. In Uganda that meant stopping to talk with neighbors when walking home or taking the time to fully greet people as they walk into the library. But when helping students in the US, it can be easy to rush through their question, give them some resources, and go back to 'my other work'. Multitasking and busy-ness are buzzwords here. And I'm learning [and re-learning] to slow down and listen. Sometimes slowing down creates moments that have a lasting impact. Not because I answered a student's question in the most amazing way but because they trust me and share a piece of their story with me. I've had students tell me about how hard it is to be a single parent and a full-time student or the difficulties of returning to school after serving in the military. It's such a privilege when students share those things with me and they only do that when I slow down enough to really listen.

Most importantly, though, my time in Uganda has given me a bigger perspective on life and also librarianship. One of the best things about traveling and living in another country, is the chance to get outside yourself and your own experiences. Living in Uganda gave me the chance to not only see life in and through another culture but to also see librarianship in a different context. Now when I am tempted to think that something at work is 'the end of the world', I try to remember that librarians in other parts of the world are dealing with many of the same things. There are men and women around the world, working to provide access to information with few resources or personnel. They are the heros of the library world. My random issues with a problem patron or furniture placement in the library are nothing compared to what others deal with every day.

This past summer, someone gave us some advice to make the most of our time in Uganda. We were told that in order to have an impact we should: slow down, listen more, talk less, and focus on people. Without those things it wouldn't matter what 'did' in the library. I'm realizing that those aren't just lessons I needed while I was in Uganda. Those are things I need to do here, in the US, everyday. Because those are the things that will ultimately make a difference in someone's life. Finding someone the perfect book is great but what they will remember is how they were treated while they found the book. So, that's my new focus. As the new school year begins I want to come to work every day with a mindset to slow down, listen, and focus on people. Because really, helping people is what being a librarian is all about.

Defending Information

I know I was only in Uganda for two months this summer but I still have so much to process. This time was shorter and different than my last time in Uganda in 2011-2012. But it was just as meaningful and has given me so much to think about. As I settle back into the US, I'm thinking back over conversations and experiences, trying to remember it all.

Every day KEST gets a copy of the local newspaper. It gets passed around campus until it lands in the library. Several weeks ago there was an article about Uganda’s transition from analog television stations to digital, which prompted an interesting conversation with Ivan, the librarian.

I asked Ivan about this process and what was happening. I had been seeing lots of headlines and ads saying: don’t lose your TV! Don’t get turned off!, etc. He explained to me how the government was making the switch from analog to digital TV stations and if people wanted to continue to use their older TVs, they would need to purchase a converter for about 150,000 Ugandan shillings ($50), give or take.

This prompted a discussion about the impact this would have on people. While the TV channels themselves might be continue to be free, the converter box is far from free for people who don't have much money. And for many of those people, the TV is a main source of information and news. Some people do not have the money or ability to buy and read a newspaper or books. The TV they saved up for years ago is their main source of information.

Anyway, Ivan was saying that it's not the change in technology that is the problem but rather making people pay so much for the change. It might very well limit their access to their only source of information.

It was interesting to me in so many ways. I confess, I do not own a TV here in the US, nor did I have one in Uganda. I often see a TV as a needless piece of technology. I honestly hadn't thought much about it being someone's main source of information. And as I thought about it, I remembered in 2011, going outside to watch the Royal Wedding in the UK on a TV at a small shop. It was sort of a shared, neighborhood TV. And I crowded around that old TV with my neighbors, trying to see the big event. That memory sticks in my mind as a clear picture of how a TV (and the programs on it) could impact people thousands of miles away.

But as Ivan and I were talking a few weeks ago, he said something that has stuck with me: Librarians are defenders of information. And issues like this should concern us.

I love that image. Defenders. Any one of my regular readers knows that being a librarian is not about passively sitting in a room of books. It's about information and people. And I think what Ivan was saying is that we also need to defend the ways in which people access that information. Information is different in different places but, regardless, we can and should defend people's ability to access that information. And, ultimately, we provide access so that people are empowered.

On How Libraries Are (Mostly) All the Same

At this point in my life, I have now worked in 9 different libraries. And over the course of the 16 years I have worked in said libraries, I've seen some library universals. Things that are the same, even across cultures and countries. It's pretty cool, I think. I spend time with librarians and in libraries halfway around the world and see that many things are the same. I love making the world smaller! :)

• Printers and photocopiers are the bane of a library employee's existence. People are always asking about these machines. Paper jams, double sided copies, etc. I admit, sometimes my patience runs thin with these questions. But then I remind myself to not take myself too seriously.
• Patrons rarely ask for what they actually need. In the US I once had a student ask for books on "identity". When I asked follow up questions, it turned out he actually needed books on second generation immigrants. The same kind of thing happens here. A student asks for a book on one thing but after asking a few questions, we find out he or she really needs something different. 
• Uninvited critters can find their way into libraries. In the US, it might be mice or bugs. I've even heard of a squirrel sneaking in. Here? Who knows. Once, when I was at RTC, I had chickens wander in. And, of course, there are geckos everywhere.
• Regular shelf reading is key. No offense to all you non-library folk out there, but sometimes you don't know where to put books back and books can get out of order. If they are out of order, they become hard (read: impossible) to find. Library employees have to shelf read regularly to make sure books are in the right place.
• Be flexible. You never know what will come up: a meeting, a student with an in-depth question, etc. I try to make a daily to-do list but I've learned to hold that list loosely. That's in the US and in Uganda.
• People are the most important. I've said it a thousand times: libraries exist for people. If we're not making our collections accessible, we are failing. It doesn't matter -- US or Uganda -- we want to help people gain access to information.

Librarians with students. :)

Hiding Informantion

These past couple weeks at the Kampala Evangelical School of Theology (KEST) Library have been so good. From spending time with my old colleague, Pastor Emma (from RTC, now working at KEST), to learning about the library and college, to working with and getting to know Ivan the librarian, to meeting the students...it's been a whirlwind. And one we are so grateful for.

Something we have heard several times since arriving, from different people (Africans), is that Africa/Uganda does not have a reading culture. That is, people in Uganda/Africa do not read very much, nor are many people interested in reading. We have heard this during several different conversations, in various iterations. But the version that stands out most to me is someone who said, "There is a saying: if you want to hide something from an African, hide it in a book."

I've been thinking about this for days, wondering what to do with this statement. It's just wiggling around in my brain. It's one of those things you just mull over and can't quite forget and wonder what to do with. I know that it makes me sad. Sad to hear these comments and wondering how to respond as a librarian.

And yet, the KEST library is used. Students come to the library not only for their studies but also for materials for personal projects and research.

I wonder, but am not sure yet, if part of why we are here is to be a part of un-hiding information. Don't get me wrong, I love the oral aspect of this culture. I find it fascinating and beautiful. And I always want to be conscious about the culture we are in. But we've had so many conversations these past couple weeks with people who WANT written information. And they want it more easily accessible.

It's humbling, really. Something many of us take for granted, I think, in the US...the abundance of books, libraries, internet, etc.

And yet.

We are here.

In a non-reading culture, wondering how to find a way forward. Asking how do you support a library (a rather Western institution) in Uganda? We do not want to create an American library in Africa. We want to be a part of supporting a sustainable, Ugandan library in Uganda.

I hope and pray we can help to un-hide information. To make it accessible to those that want it. A library is not just a static place of books. It is a place to empower people and shine light into those hidden places.

Things They Don't Teach You in Library School, Part 2

I wrote my original post on things they don't teach you in library school several years ago, when I was living in Uganda. It's one of my most popular posts and I still think all those things are true. However, in the years since I wrote that list, I've learned a lot more about being a librarian. The fact is, one grad school just can't teach you everything you need to know about being a professional librarian. You will learn a lot but there's plenty more to learn on the job. [Isn't that the case with any job, though?]

So, here are more things they don't teach you in library school...in a US, reference librarian context:

• Some days, you will spend much of your time helping patrons with things like: email, printing, wifi, etc. It might feel a bit 'beneath' you, especially if you have a long to-do list of lesson planning, meetings, etc. Think of those questions as outreach...if you're friendly and approachable while you help a patron print, hopefully they will come back when they have a research question.
• And, speaking of that to-do list. You will have one. A long one, no doubt.
• And on that list will be meetings. Lots of meetings. 
• Some patrons will not understand what you do. At all. They will ask you: to watch their stuff, proofread a paper, help them with their homework, etc. Just smile. And remind them what you can do for them: send them to the tutoring center, show them a book that answers their question, use a locker on campus, etc. Librarians connect people to information, even if it's not 'traditional' research information.
• Sometimes patrons just need encouragement or a listening ear. I can't tell you how many students ask for help finding articles or books and end up asking some variation: this is a good topic...right? Which I interpret as: Can I really do this big, scary assignment?
• There will be some questions that will cause you to have a moment of inner panic. [You want to find what?!] Take a deep breath. You'll be fine. And that will likely be the most interesting question you will answer all week.
• The best reference interactions end with: Thank you! This is exactly what I need! And you will feel like you just changed that patron's world.

Again, this is a very reference librarian focused list. But, hey, it's all true, right? :) Librarians do a lot of things besides shushing and reading...most of which you discover along the way.

Intangibles In the Library

I think there are a lot of misconceptions about librarians. You know, that we all wear glasses, shush people, and love reading. Some of those things make sense: libraries are often valued as quiet spaces and many librarians did join the profession because of their love of reading or literature.

But as I was telling someone recently: libraries are also about people! One of the reasons I love my job is because of the students and people I get to work with every day. And a big part of why I loved living and working in Uganda was because I loved the people. Libraries are about books, yes. But they are also about empowering people with information.

The longer I work as a reference librarian, the more I realize the things I provide patrons. Not just books, articles, study space, and other resources but many intangibles. For example, I also:

• Show compassion. Students struggle with research. With life. With school. Some don't know how to start a research paper or don't understand why they should come to the library. Some of them are just struggling in general. I want to show compassion to these students. To care about their previous experiences and meet them where they're at.
• Give patience. Along with showing compassion, I give patience. Students sometimes come to the library stressed by life and school. They aren't always in the best mood. But I strive to be patient with them and understand that they have a lot going on in their lives.
• Give hospitality. One of the definitions of hospitality is: the quality or disposition of receiving and treating guests and strangers in a warm, friendly, generous way. This is exactly what I try to do: create a space that is friendly and welcoming and encourages students to come back when they need help.
• Provide a listening ear. In some ways, this is similar to showing compassion. Some students love to talk! I'm always amazed at what personal information students will share with me when they're stressed by school. I listen to their stories and it's always a privilege when someone offers a part of their life to me by sharing those stories.
• Share excitement. Students I've helped in the past often stop by to share the grade they got on assignment I helped them with. Or they tell me that the book we found was perfect. I love sharing their excitement over finding good information.

These are the intangibles that make my job worth it. I help students with many things but these are my favorite things to provide. I'm not perfect at any of them, but I'm learning. Being a librarian is about a lot more than than being a keeper of the books, at least for me. It's about the bigger picture...about people, caring for them, and providing a space to empower them with information.

On Continuing To Tell a Good Story

I know, I know. It's been a long time since I've written. What can I say? This whole trying to cram a bunch of life changes into a span of 6-8 months has been exhausting.

As most of my 'regular' readers [do you even exist?] know, this blog grew out of my time as a librarian in Uganda. I was determined to tell a good story while I lived there...I wanted my time in Uganda to be about other people, about loving them and learning from them, and not really about me at all. For the most part, I think I was successful. I learned to be a part of a new culture and to embrace the job I was there to do. I loved my time in Uganda. I love the friends I made there and the people I met. I miss them. I loved the work I did and the library I helped. That experience holds a very, very special place in my heart.

And here I am, more than six months later [what??] and trying to still figure out what the heck a US Library Story looks like. What MY story looks like. [And, as a result, what this blog should look like now.]

One of the things I'm learning in this process of not actually having a 'library' story but rather just a story, is that sometimes our lives aren't about anything big and grand and adventurous. Sometimes, a good story simply means learning to cook a new meal or being patient with the rude person in front of me in line at the grocery store or unpacking a box because it will make our new home less chaotic or calling a friend to whom I haven't talked to in a long time.

Right now my 'library' story mostly consists of applications, resumes, cover letters, interviews, phone calls, and emails. And, at this point, a temporary position at the local library [more on that another time].

I guess ultimately, what I'm discovering is that if I define my purpose in life by the activities I am currently doing, I will probably be disappointed. I don't want the ultimate purpose of my life to be: 'go to the grocery store and do laundry'. So instead I'm trying to frame what I do everyday into the context of a bigger story. To remember once again that this is just a chapter. My whole life is the story...not just the errands I run today or the load of laundry I fold. It's the choices I make with my attitude while I do those things that make a good story. And the new-to-Minneapolis-trying-to-find-a-job-and-figure-out-my-new-[and-married]-life chapter is just a small piece of the bigger story.

I don't know what my purpose is right now, exactly. But I'm thinking it simply has to do with loving the few people around me and being patient with myself. Giving myself grace while I figure this out. And finding ways to re-engage with the library world. To slowly learn what a [cold!] Minnesota Library Story looks like. And maybe to find ways to do exactly what I did in Uganda: listen to the stories around me and try to let my life be about others.

Libraries Are Disappearing?

I had an interesting conversation last week that reinforced in my mind the stereotypes people have about libraries and librarians. I was casually talking with a new acquaintance about various Minnesota-related things and the inevitable, 'What do you do?' question came up. I mentioned that I am a librarian and currently looking for a job. I honestly can't remember exactly how the conversation went but the main thing I remember him saying is something along the lines of:

Well, we all know how libraries are going away.

Clearly he hadn't been to aforementioned local public library. Every book I wanted to check out recently was already checked out. I am now a master at making requests.

At any rate, I didn't actually have time to address this [practically] stranger's comment. I've made that mistake in the past, quickly correcting people for their stereotypes of libraries and librarians. Probably not the best way to make new friends, which [whom?] I'm pretty desperate for these days. So, I kept my mouth shut at the time.

But once again, I was so surprised by such an off-hand comment. I don't know why these comments continue to surprise me. Or rub me the wrong way. You'd think by now I would just accept that people think libraries are disappearing and librarians only like to read. But I just can't.

Because the very reasons I believe libraries and librarians are not disappearing are the very reasons I get excited about libraries:

• communities
• information
• connections
• people

These things might not be what most people think of when they think of libraries. But we librarians know the truth. ;-) A library is more than a house of books. At the very least that's only part of the description.

And the main things I continue to learn from these types of conversations: patience toward others and not to make assumptions. I won't make assumptions about your career, if you don't make assumptions about mine. Deal?

All Libraries Are Not Created Equal

Last week, I set foot in an American Library...the first one I've been to since I've been back from Uganda,  just over three months since returning to the US. Weird. You'd think, as a librarian, I'd be itching to get into a library when I arrived back. And in some ways I was...wanting the familiarity of books in rows and hushed voices. Amidst the craziness this summer there were time I thought: "Just go to the library...it's familiar and orderly." But with a wedding to plan and about a million other things going on, I just never went.

To be honest, there was also a part of me that wasn't [isn't?] ready. I wasn't ready to face an area of extreme contrast between my life in Uganda and my life here in the US. Sure, there are tons of contrasts every day but the library. My work, my refuge, my frustration, and my joy. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't enter a library because I knew I would be flooded with memories and maybe tears.

My library in Uganda was/is: small, covered in gecko-poop, dusty, cracked, simple, and full of people I loved and admired.

And then there's the library I walked into here: big [unbroken!] windows, clean, carpeted, and full of strangers and new computers and books.

I miss my little library in Uganda. I love[d] it. Red dust and all.

Because to me it was my work and my life. Maybe it's because the library was where I had control and now, being back in the US in a new city, without a job, I feel like I have very little control. For me, there's comfort in creating order when your world is feeling a bit unsteady.

Mostly, though, it has me wondering again why some areas of the world seem to have so much in terms of money and worldly goods and why others don't. It made me ask questions about life and fairness. Do you American librarians know how lucky you are? The contrasts between life in America and life in Uganda come up at the strangest times. I try hard to just accept them as different...two different countries and cultures. I try not to get too caught up in the 'why?' because I know it will only drive me crazy.

So, I looked around the bright, shiny, new library and  I saw people using computers, reading, looking for books...and I forced myself to remember why libraries exist in the first place. I forced myself to remember that libraries exist to serve people...to connect them to information. And every library is unique to its community.

I don't know why things are the way they are in this world. I saw this video the other day and can't get it out of my head. I keep thinking about Africa and here and wondering why things are so different. I keep asking myself how I can come alongside the people I love in Uganda...still loving them from here.

But mostly, I keep remembering the smiles and laughter I shared with friends. The stories of perseverance I heard. And I hope that I will learn to see the libraries here as wonderfully as I see that one: providing space for community to grow.

On Being a Librarian Without a Job

*Please excuse my complete lack of posts for the past two-three months. My excuses are: 1. I'm still trying to figure out what my library story looks like now that I'm back in the US and 2. (more excitingly) I got married less than three weeks ago and promptly moved across the country...sometimes life just takes over. :) But I do hope to start writing again as I explore a new library story in Minnesota.

I've decided that being a librarian is one of the best jobs in the world. Sorry to all you teachers, doctors, lawyers, nurses, whatevers out there. Being a librarian is great. We get the privilege of helping people find information...ultimately inspiring them. Just watch this TED Talk to see someone who changed his life because of information he found in a library.

Anyway, I knew how great libraries and librarians were when I was in Uganda. I loved my work. [I miss it!] And I wouldn't have become a librarian in the first place if I didn't see it as The Best Job in the World.

But I've been struck again but how great a job it is now that I don't have one.

Part of what I love about being a librarian is the purpose I feel when I'm at work. I honestly feel like I get to be a part of changing communities and lives by helping connect people to information. It's pretty exciting...knowing that you could be a part of a bigger story. Now that I am on the job market, I sometimes find myself wondering what my purpose is. And I'm trying to define the purpose of my life in new ways.

My days are full with other things right now [job searching one of them] but I've definitely felt the lack of purpose. I miss the satisfaction of finding a patron the perfect book or watching the light bulb go on when they learn something new on the computer. Because, let's face it, unpacking suitcases and finding the nearest supermarket just doesn't have the same purpose.

And I've discovered again how much the American culture places an emphasis on what we do. One of the first questions people ask when you meet them is: What do you do? [And when you're to a new place, you get this question a lot!] This can be an incredibly depressing question if what you do is job search...you look for what you are going to do in the future. It can make the future feel more important than the now. Which is exactly the type of mentality I learned to NOT live by in Uganda...where the focus is more on now and not later. Talk about culture shock!

So, I'm trying to find new ways to define the purpose of my life. And not simply focus on my job. I'm learning to take joy in finding information for those around me and for myself. If being a librarian involves connecting people to information, I'm trying to find satisfaction in doing that every day, whether it's looking for a job, finding our next apartment, or looking up local things to do. I'm exploring ways to get involved in the community while I look for a job. Most importantly, I'm trying to give myself permission to simply BE.

I'm learning again that a good story is not with out it's ups and downs, transitions, and a whole lot of unknown. I've started a new chapter and have no idea where it's going...and isn't that what makes a good story? 

And I refuse to define my story--tell my story--based solely on what I do...but also on who I am.

Thousands of Words

I realized recently that I never put enough pictures on this Library Story blog of mine. Mostly I've used it for reflecting on the different aspects of Librarianship in another context. But it occurred to me that it might be helpful to share a few pictures. To show you about my life in Uganda and not just tell you about it, lest you think I was living in the bush, seeing giraffes every day. Admittedly, it's a very random selection but they are things that both show my life and my work. I know they're a bit overdue but better late than never, right? And if a picture's worth a thousand words, here are a lot of words. :)

You've seen these little guys before...Seme and Young.
They became 'regular' patrons...coming in to play games, color,
and play on the computers. The rule was: if they played quietly
and cleaned up after, they could stay. If not, they had to go.

Typical day in the library. Group studying with lots of books.

And you think your city has traffic jams. This is the area
I went to catch a taxi.

The RTC Library Book Truck. And Seme helping. :) It's fairly
simple compared to some book trucks I've seen in the US but
it gets the job done, which is the important part.

New computers! This year I installed and networked 5 of
these new-to-us laptops. Computers took up a lot of
my time in Uganda! But I learned so much!

A view from the back of the library...door is in the upper,
right-hand corner.

Dust! I was always cleaning up dust. Here's what I found
when I emptied some shelves. Yuck!

Hi, How Can I Help You?

In the US, when you walk in a library, store, or other establishment often [not always] the first words you'll hear are, 'How can I help you?' or 'Can I help you?' Or some other variation. As a librarian, I'm no exception when it comes to providing service. In the US, the customer is 'always right' and we often drop what we're doing to help the patron/customer/etc. Again, not always, but that's the general rule of thumb of what we've come to expect, I think.

But I've learned that views on customer service are actually a bit cultural. Customer service in Uganda doesn't necessarily look the same as in the US. I discovered this by accident, although in retrospect it makes perfect sense.

My last few weeks in Uganda were full of daily reminders that my time was coming to a close. Almost every day someone would ask me how many days I had left or when I was going. Often students would come to thank me again for helping them over the past year and that they would miss me. To be honest, I hated the countdown and I often tried to play down their kind words, reminding them that I was leaving another librarian to help them.

But their response surprised me: But you always stop what you're doing to help me.

And suddenly I started thinking about customer service in Uganda. And generally [not always] customer service happens the same way as most things: on African time. Things simply happen when they happen. Walking into a store does not necessarily mean someone will greet you or help you immediately. I can remember countless times standing at the meat counter in the supermarket trying to get someone's attention. Or waiting at a shop while the the attendant finished his/her conversation with a friend. And I learned to love this type of time...there's something freeing about just letting things happen in their own time.

And I realized that I had introduced my students to a very Western style of customer service. When someone walked in the door [which was right by my desk] I almost always greeted them and asked if/how I could help them. If they wanted a book, I stopped what I was doing to help them find it. If they needed computer help, I got up to teach them.

And these are not bad things. But I can't help but wonder if I did them a bit of a disservice. Letting them get used to a style of customer service they may or may not experience again. I always wanted to be so careful about introducing the students to new things...not wanting to change their culture, per se, but simply try to make a library as culturally appropriate as possible. And I was so focused on computer skills and organizing books that I didn't think about customer service.

I don't have any answers. And I'm not going to beat myself up about it. But it does have me thinking. I always want to make sure I'm building and growing libraries that are appropriate for their cultures and communities...how does this relate to customer service? Is the 'Western' style of customer service always the best? What actually defines customer 'service'?

Learning to Let Go

As I've prepared to leave Uganda, I've spent a lot of time reflecting on the past year and half. My reflections range from personal to specific memories to work to my neighborhood. A lot has happened during this time in Uganda...in my heart (more on that later) and also in my library. It has me thinking about all the things that have been accomplished:

• Installed computers
• Cataloged books
• Shifted books
• Taught classes
• Conducted orientations

And the list could go on. And I'm proud of all the work that's been done.

But I can't help but wonder what will happen as I leave.

Don't get me wrong, the librarian we hired is more than capable. But I'm learning that the process of letting go is hard. Letting go of a major project you began (but didn't finish) is extremely difficult. It makes you wrestle with all kinds of things as you let go of control. I was asked to come and computerize the library and it's hard not to wonder if I should have or could have done things differently to have actually finished the process. There are a lot of questions I keep asking myself:

• Have I put enough processes in place that things won't fall apart when I leave?
• Have I trained the new librarian well enough?
• Have I documented everything?
• Have I done everything I was capable?
• Am I finishing well?

But the community developer in me knows that leaving is a good thing. It gives someone else a job and lets others have ownership of the library. I know that I have built relationships with people, which is more important than any number of books cataloged. I know I need to trust that things will continue whether or not I am there...to not believe that I am so important that work can't continue without me.

And as I leave, I am choosing to focus on the positive. To focus on what was accomplished. And on all the beautiful people I had the privilege to get to know. They are what made my time wonderful. They are the reason that leaving is so difficult.

A House of Books

One of the most common descriptions I've heard of a "library" this past year is that it is a "house of books". This description never ceases to annoy me. It's like when people say that because I'm a librarian I must love to read...stereotypes drive me crazy! Although, I have learned to be a lot more patient with people's assumptions and simply explain my version of librarianship. Because, to me, a library is about so much more than books. It's about information and community and connections and teaching and research and learning. Not just books.

But, of course, there is a physical space associated with libraries, most of the time. And when I was in graduate school, I took a class entitled 'Library Buildings'. It was a great class offered by a professor who has spent years as a library building consultant on library construction projects. It was fascinating to learn about things like: the best places to put computers, lights, books, etc. I mean, who knew, it can actually make a difference where you put books and tables?

I've discovered that it does, indeed, make a difference. Here are a few examples I've (re)discovered since moving to Uganda...some we talked about in class and some we did not:

• Building a library next to a dirt road is not a good idea. Unless you want to spend time every day clearing fine, red dust from all the books and tables.
• Concrete floors might not be the best for sound reduction but they sure are easy to clean.
• Inverters are a good option for when the power goes out at night. If you can afford one.
• If your desk is in public space it will be exactly that: public. (We talked about this in class...Fred Schlipf was so right! My circ/ref/cataloging/everything desk is incredibly public...no private space here!)
• Lighting really does make a difference. For example, make sure your lights are actually above the tables where people work. Otherwise you get weird shadows.
• Keep public computers within sight. Otherwise you never know what kinds of things people are getting into. Or downloading.
• Having small rooms for group work (with glass doors!) is definitely ideal. Because having a one room library creates tension between the group-studiers and the silent-studiers. You can't win.
• Outlets should not be place directly beneath windows that are often left wide open.

At any rate, these physical considerations are important (and sometimes humorous) and a library may be a house of books. But more importantly, I believe a library is a center for learning. And hopefully a place to build community. So, I suppose a library is a little bit of both...the physical space, i.e. the house of books, but also the community and learning that take place within the house. And I'm still learning how to bring them both together.

Reflections Come With Change

*Warning: this is a reflective post written after a long week and particularly emotional day. But I'm determined to see all my time here as one big story. I don't want to simply focus on my library work and instead want to focus on a comprehensive reflection of living in Uganda. Just FYI. :)

Today was graduation at RTC. Students that finished last year returned for the ceremony. Families arrived to support their graduates. I helped wrap 40+ gifts for those graduating and folded tons of programs. The compound was cleaned and the grass 'slashed' (i.e. mowed). It's been a busy week.

I don't know why but this time of year always makes me reflective. As a student I always hated the end of a semester. Weird, I know. You'd think I would be happy to see the end of the work and get to a break. Which I was. But I also hate change, so seeing something end (even a semester) makes me sentimental. [Side note: I can remember only one New Year's Eve where I was actually excited about the coming year...most years I feel sad to see the old year go. Yeah, change is not my thing.]

This semester is no different.

Maybe I'm extra sentimental because this was my last semester at RTC. But I've been thinking a lot about the time I've spent in Uganda and the stories I've heard, the people I've met. I said goodbye to a lot of them today. I don't know if they realize how much they've touched my heart or impacted my life. I don't know if they know how much I'm going to miss them or how sad I am to say goodbye. I know people come and go from our lives but right now it's hard to imagine that all too soon these people will not a part of my every day life.

And I keep thinking about the story of this past semester. Thinking about the library and the students. It's been a busy semester in a lot of ways...for most of the time I was a solo librarian, which meant I was the only one around to answer questions, work on cataloging, field IT issues. I was stressed a lot of the time, to be honest. I lost perspective. Forgetting why I was here and getting caught up in the feelings of being overwhelmed. It's embarrassing, actually.

Because as I looked across the chapel today during graduation, I was reminded that I don't want my life to be about the little stresses I too often get distracted by at work or in life. It's about choosing to pay attention to those around me and to be present in the moment. And to focus on the beautiful stories around me. I came here because of a library. But I chose to engage in the community around me. And that made my library experience so much richer.

I hope I never see a job as simply a job. But rather I hope I can remember the importance of engaging with those around me, listening to their stories, and becoming a part of my community.

Graduates! :)

.

It's What Is On the Inside That Counts

So, in keeping in the theme of my last post, I thought I would revisit the fun aspect of our collection of donated books. Yes, there a lot of frustrations when it comes to having a collection made up entirely of donations, including the sustainability aspect.

But there are also some fun surprises. Namely, what we sometimes find inside. I find endless amusement from inscriptions, old 'bookmarks', and other random things we find inside these old books as we catalog them. They tell such interesting stories about their previous owners and lives. Before I went to library school I worked as the Acquisitions Coordinator at a college library in Chicago. I loved that job because I got to open up boxes of brand new books almost every day. But I've found that opening old books every day can be just as interesting and fun.

This week's examples:

Found in an old book...I love the record of
a previous library's policies!

This was found in the very back of a book. If you stole
a book would you document where you got it?

Not sure what vegetarians have to do with joy...I looked
through the entire book but found no other notes about
joy or vegetarians.

To Keep or Not To Keep

Last year, soon after I started at RTC, I helped weed and sort through a huge collection of donated books. It was an interesting [read: frustrating] process. I wrote a short list to friends in the US about making donations...reminding us all to make relevant donations.

Because almost the entire RTC Library collection is made up of donated books, I've spent a lot of time thinking about donations and how they play into collection development. Like many LIS graduate students, I took a Collection Development (CD) class when I was in grad school. I remember thinking a lot of the class was a bit common sense. But it was helpful to think about a collection of books and think about how you would build, weed or grow a collection in a library.

I know, all you non-librarians are thinking 'Seriously? You take classes in how to pick out books?' Yes. Yes, we do. Since libraries are community-based, collection development is lot more complicated than going to Amazon and picking out bestsellers. It's about picking the best resources for your community of users so that they are connected to the best information for their needs.

At any rate, it's been interesting to approach CD with only donated books. For example, when you make your acquisitions selections from a pile of unknown, donated books you have to be extremely creative. I've discovered that in order to add new books to the collection, I can't think I want book X. Instead, I think: I want subject X. I have to think in broad terms about the types of books needed. What subjects are we lacking in? Of course, since only 2/3 of the collection is cataloged, it can be hard to tell what's still needed, but that's another story.

Also, because new books are hard to come by, weeding takes on a whole new meaning. Every library has [or should have] a policy on when to *gasp* get rid of books. But I honestly struggle to weed here. Because if I weed out one book the chances of it ever being replaced are slim to none.

So my question becomes: Is it better to have mediocre or out-of-date information or no information at all?

And sometimes I just don't know.

The truth is a lot of what's in the library would probably never pass a weeding inspection in a similar, American library. But I'm not in America. I'm in Uganda. And my options are much more limited. It's an interesting dilemma and has stretched me in a lot of ways to think about collections in new ways. I don't have an answer. Maybe we need to revise our policies so we can make things more clear about what to keep or not.

But being the big-picture thinker that I am, the issue is not just about policies. The issue is about donations from other countries and how goods travel across the globe. It's about educating the administration on the importance of getting new books. It's about soliciting for books and materials we actually need. It's about how to get relevant materials to developing countries cheaper.

And, I guess it really just gets back to the basic question:

How do you build and maintain a library's collection so that it remains relevant to its users?