What I Learned Today

Week 1 of LIBR 200, “Information and Society”, has begun. I dove eagerly into our textbook, “Foundations of Library and Information Science” by Richard E. Rubin. Since we don’t have in-person meetings for interaction and discussion, instead we’re required to post to an online discussion forum about what we learned from our reading. And hey, here’s where I also like to post about What I Learned!

What is library and information science?

The element of our assigned reading that struck me most was the open portrayal of Library and Information Science (LIS) as a field with something of an identity crisis. There’s an ongoing debate about whether it’s all about libraries, “librarianship”, service, and education, or whether it’s more about information, technology, and data, perhaps prioritizing knowledge over people. Information technology obviously is a major help in providing services to library patrons, which is where the line gets blurred. But how much of this can be said to be “science”? How much of it needs to be? How much should LIS “compete” with fields like “computer science and business administration”?

It is a novel experience for me to see a field deliberately asking existential questions of itself. My prior education is in computer science and geology. Only rarely do questions arise such as “Why do we study computer science?” or “How can geology stay relevant to today’s public?” or “How should computer science distinguish itself from mathematics, engineering, and information technology?” I was astonished, and delighted, to see these big-picture questions being raised as one of the first topics in this introductory course. Indeed. Why does it matter?

Further, this is evidently not a side topic that attracts the attention of only a few individuals, but instead a pivotal issue in how the field defines itself. These questions convey a sensitive humility, in contrast to an academic arrogance that assumes whatever the field carves out for itself is axiomatically important. They can only arise from a community that genuinely cares about staying relevant, and therefore notices when changes occur in the needs and habits of its primary users or beneficiaries. Perhaps this is what distinguishes a service profession from a science or engineering field. I find the intense push to stay relevant and useful to be refreshing and motivating. One of the primary reasons I volunteer at the library is that it gives me a direct connection to helping people, something that is rather missing from my research position at NASA.

How should Library and Information Science be taught?

I was also fascinated by a historical discussion of how librarians were and are trained, and the evolving debate about what information and skills they need. It is a bit odd to be told, just as we’re beginning our studies, that the field itself isn’t quite sure what we should be learning. There is no agreement on a basic shared curriculum beyond a few core classes (organization of information, reference, foundations, and management (!)). But once again, I find this openness refreshing, and being presented with these questions up front feels like an invitation to get involved in the conversation.

I did wish that Rubin’s book were a little more updated. Despite being a 2010 edition, most of the heavily researched statistics (e.g., on media consumption or librarian demographics) come from 2004-2008, and I kept wanting to know what the current values were. Most jarringly, the section titled “Looking to the Future” relies primarily on a study published in 2000 (Rubin p. 110). How many of the six identified trends still hold? What about the future beyond 2012? A description of “the librarian of the twenty-first century” is quoted on p. 112 that comes from a 1985 paper (Debons, 1985)! These outdated references are at odds with the text’s intended message about the necessity of adapting to a rapid rate of changes in patrons and the workplace.

What spoke to me most was the view that “LIS professionals are educators, enriching the lives of others through their advice and guidance” (Rubin p. 119). That is what I would like to aspire to in my studies, in my time at the library, and truly, in how I interact with all whom I encounter.

One of the assignments in my first Library Science class is to write a blog post reflecting on the “personal skills needed to succeed as an online student and as a member of an online team.” We were encouraged to review “Is an online program right for you?”, a checklist apparently crafted with me in mind. Based on this list, I’m well suited for an online program: I’m habitually organized and disciplined, I’m self-motivated, I work very well independently, I have tech skillz, and, oh yes, I *love* a challenge.

Next we received some tips on study habits and time management, emphasizing how the online course experience differs from in-person instruction. Online courses provide more flexibility (you work when you’re available) but therefore also shift responsibility onto the student’s shoulders. Suggestions include using a calendar to track deadlines and designating regular times to work on the course. I would have done the former anyway, but I appreciated the reminder about the latter; diving into the class opportunistically, as time permits, is not a recipe for success when all of your other daily demands crowd around!

We were given two videos to watch that focus on the skills involved in successful teamwork. I gather that we’ll encounter group projects in several classes during the course of the degree. I found these videos very interesting, realizing as I watched them that I’d never been explicitly taught how to approach group work. I’ve experienced my share of frustrations, disappointments, and communication failures, but I attributed this to the necessary evils of group work. In terms of personal skills, I’m a natural organizer, I’m very reliable, and I’m a good communicator and editor. My weaknesses include naively assuming that everyone has the same goals I do, imposing possibly unreasonable expectations on others, and a perfectionist urge to jump in and “do it right” instead of trusting others. Being aware of these things helps me head them off.

The first thing I learned from Dr. Haycock’s colloquium on “Working in Teams” was the power of the term “team”, as opposed to “group.” A team consists of people with a common goal and individual accountability. “Group” covers a range of gatherings, possibly with much looser structure and lacking defined goals and ground rules. Dr. Haycock also enumerated factors that lead to team failures: lack of trust, fear of conflict, lack of commitment, avoidance of accountability, and inattention to results. These can be addressed by having clarity in team goals (including, for coursework, the desired quality of the resulting product; what grade are we aiming for? It hadn’t occurred to me that we’d need to ask this question!), clearly defined roles/responsibilities, and established ground rules (expectations for team meetings, how information will be shared, how to serve as checkpoints on each others’ work, consequences if rules aren’t followed). I was persuaded that taking the time to converge on these items up front could head off a lot of problems later.

Dr. Haycock then described four stages of team development: Forming, Storming (dissatisfaction), Norming (resolution), and Performing. Two comments he made struck me here: that all four stages are normal (so expect some dissatisfaction and know that there are ways to work through it), and that not all teams make it through all four. He noted that many teams hand in their final project, never having made it to the Performing stage. Sounds like a painful experience!

I liked his suggestion to designate a “process observer” within the team whose job it is to take a minute or so at the end of each meeting and comment on whether the team succeeded in sticking to its ground rules. Presumably this could be a rotating duty, and presumably this internally generated feedback could help to remind members of the rules or to inspire changes in the rules, if needed.

The second video was “The Monster Inside Library School: Student Teams” by Enid Irwin. She offered additional advice for successful team experiences, including learning about your teammates’ skills and being willing to mentor teammates (the latter skill being something you may use day-to-day in a library position!). She also noted that one reason teamwork figures prominently in the SLIS program is that librarian jobs often include a lot of teamwork, so learning functional team skills now will serve you well later. I reflected that I participate in several groups (not all what I would consider “teams”) at work, and none of them are as structured as the ideal described here. Perhaps I can incorporate some of these ideas into improving teams at work, too.

Library Science has a fundamental philosophy, first articulated by Shiyali Ramamrita Ranganathan. He was a mathematician and a librarian, so naturally he’d be led to identifying Laws. The Laws are simple:

1. Books are for use.
2. Every reader his [or her] book.
3. Every book its reader.
4. Save the time of the reader.
5. The library is a growing organism.

I admire these few, short rules for their concreteness, their simplicity, and their import. They hint at a deeper underlying philosophy (here I use philosophy in its “how to live your life” sense, not its “abstract argument” sense).

Rule 1 seems obvious, but on closer inspection it is not; instead, it helps combat natural protective (to keep the books clean and untorn and unmutilated — that is, unused) or collector (books are not (just) wall decor) impulses.

Rule 2 recognizes fundmental human diversity. If that isn’t a big concept in a small sentence, I don’t know what is.

Rule 3 actually seems a bit questionable to me, but I guess implies that every book may appeal to someone, even if it doesn’t appeal to you (or offends you — censorship beware!).

Rule 4 urges efficiency in the organization of books, the process of finding them (search), and the process of checking them out. Yes!

Rule 5 is the biggie — an open acceptance of change. How rare to see an institution acknowledge and embrace the fact that change is inevitable? Patrons change, demographics change, materials change, and the process by which those materials are disseminated definitely changes (the very wording of these Laws is now outdated, since we must replace “book” with “media” to reflect today).

Now I’m wondering what primary Laws one could identify in Machine Learning, or even Computer Science. Do we have fundamental principles? Can they be similarly tied to ethics? What would they be?

(Yes, yes, the Three Laws of Robotics. Next?)

I remember a long, boring lull between when I was admitted to USC and when the classes and action finally started up that fall. Not so with SJSU and their Library Science program! I am inundated with emails about colloquia, activities, student groups, meetups, blogs, and more on a daily basis. They certainly take their mission seriously, of making the virtual learning environment as immersive and connective as possible!

Tonight I attended (virtually) SJSU’s Director’s Forum, in which the director, Dr. Sandra Hirsh, gave a sort of “state of the school” speech and answered questions from students. I learned about new faculty hires and new classes to be offered this fall (they offer *sixty* electives each semester!). Dr. Hirsh also gave some general advice to students, encouraging them to participate in internships, get involved in student organizations, and… to have fun. That’s right. :)

I also learned about Library 2.012, a (free) virtual library conference that SLIS is hosting this fall, October 3-5. They’ve identified six “strands”, which I’ve annotated with keywords that jumped out as interesting:

• Libraries – Physical and Virtual Learning Spaces (learning commons, gaming spaces)
• Librarians & Information Professionals – Evolving Professional Roles in Today’s World (“embedded” librarians, library privatization)
• Content & Creation – Organizing and Creating Information (meta-data, copyright, open source)
• Changing Delivery Methods (eBooks, social media, digital databases)
• User Centered Access (privacy, freedom of speech, search, disabilities)
• Mobile and Geo-Social Information Environments (social networks, QR codes, augmented reality)

The other neat thing I learned about is SLIS’s Center for Information Research and Innovation (CIRI). What sort of research do Library Science profs do, I wondered? Their current projects include studies of archive methods, the efficacy of text messages as a way to query the reference desk, developing an online library science program for Vietnam, YA (young adult) space practices, and virtual internships. They also have a CIRI research blog!

I keep having to remind myself that, in this community, “research” often means “searching archives and information sources for the answer to a question” (i.e., what you do to get an answer for a patron) *not* “developing a new algorithm to solve a problem.” I may have cognitive dissonance on that one for a while.

One student question was about whether SLIS would/should start restricting the number of students they admit, to respond to the job market. Dr. Hirsh responded (and I agree) that it isn’t the school’s job to regulate the number of people who are allowed entry to the field (and SLIS has students from all over the world, so it’d be hard to make policy based on any one job market anyway). She followed this up with statements about how it *is* the school’s job to help prepare students to be as ready for their job search as possible — and from what I’ve seen, SLIS does invest a lot of resources in career seminars, workshops, colloquia, counseling, etc. Not that I’m going back to school to get a new job myself. :)