I Will Never Leave a Fallen Comrade

In the final Thread of R. David Lankes' The Atlas of New Librarianship (2011), we finally get to the librarian. In amongst the descriptions of skill sets, teamwork, processes, and curriculum,  there is a statement which stops me in my tracks. Lankes proposes that in the case of deadlocked debate between new librarians and bibliofundamentalists, "we will have to do something painful. We will have to leave them behind" (p. 172). To me, this is not something painful, but something inconceivable. My language, and therefore my blog entries,  heavily reflect military culture. I suppose that is not surprising, considering that regardless of what other roles I have played in the last eighteen years, the one constant is that of Army Spouse. This culture in which I've lived my entire adult life does not allow for leaving a comrade behind.


Soldiers' who undertake a mission together subscribe to a common ethos that defines their guiding beliefs, binds them to each other, and emphasizes duty to their community. The core of the Warrior Ethos is in the following quote from the Soldier's Creed, which can be found at http://www.army.mil/values/soldiers.html:

I will always place the mission first.

I will never accept defeat.

I will never quit.

I will never leave a fallen comrade.

I am not proposing we continue to engage in unproductive conversation, or that we apply hard core conversion tactics to bring artifact-centric librarians around to our way of thinking. I am proposing that we show them the value of our mission by example--by continuing to carry the mission out effectively and gracefully. I suppose you could say that bibliofundamentalists didn't sign up to improve society as facilitators of knowledge creation anyway; that they weren't really ever part of  the mission to start with, so what does it matter if they are left behind?  It matters because they are great resources; it matters because they are our potential allies; and it matters because if we can eventually inspire them to come along with us, our mission is guaranteed to succeed. 

We Happy Few

"This time, this information age? This is our age."

-R. David Lankes, The Atlas of New Librarianship, p.135

I am a sucker for a good call-to-arms style speech. My favorite movies (which mostly come from great books) all contain rousing pre-battle speeches. William Wallace rallying his fellow Scotsmen at the Battle of Stirling, Henry V inspiring his troops prior to the Battle of Agincourt, and Aragorn spurring his army to attack the Gates of Mordor--each of these inspires me. The conviction they inspire in me is this: That I am able to affect real change in my here-and-now; and that in life we make choices to either be active participants or to later regret that we weren't.


I realize that I have just revealed my penchant for epic movies, as well as my idealist tendencies. Quite simply, I think you should leave things better than you found them. I embrace the idea that as an involved and accessible librarian in my community I can affect change to improve society. That idea makes me want to roll up my sleeves and get to work--right now. 

Power to the People

Librarians don't own public libraries, communities don't own public libraries, the individuals who make up our communities own public libraries. That ownership comes with privilege, and it comes with responsibility.

Have I mentioned yet my conviction that libraries are about people? They are not about buildings or collections or how many computers you have available.  Libraries are about people exchanging ideas to create knowledge. R. David Lankes provides suggestions in the Facilitating Thread of The Atlas of New Librarianship regarding the how-to of creating libraries that invite people into a conversation they feel motivated to pursue and that engender an environment in which members feel safe to share their opinions and seek further inquiry. He discusses access, knowledge, environment, and motivation. One particularly thought-provoking example of the relationship between library, librarian and member that appears early in the chapter (page 65, to be exact) is that public libraries are not public spaces, they are civic spaces. This subtle difference in language is an important one, as the word "civic" carries with it connotations of responsibility and belonging while the word "public" denotes openness and accessibility. While we certainly want our libraries to be accessible and open to our members, it is important for our members to understand that with their membership comes the opportunity of responsibility.

I realize "opportunity of responsibility" sounds like a phrase your mom might have used when trying to get you to clean up your room; but I'd like to challenge you to think about the real opportunities that are available to you when you take responsibility for something. When you take responsibility for an idea, an activity, or a group, you define and enhance your ownership of it. Library members who feel a sense of responsibility toward, and ownership of, their libraries empower themselves to be involved in collection development decisions, collection access decisions, and policy making decisions.  Librarians who take the time to facilitate learning about making effective choices regarding these responsibilities benefit by working with library members who are more invested in the well being and vitality of their libraries. Putting responsibility for our libraries in the hands of our members gives us all power.

Something to Talk About

If librarians are going to facilitate knowledge creation, we'd better learn the process through which knowledge is created. Throughout the Knowledge Creation Thread of The Atlas of New Librarianship, R. David Lankes focuses on Conversation Theory as a means of fostering knowledge creation. Conversation Theory, in my own significantly simplified definition, is the idea that to know and understand something, you need to talk about it. You can talk to your colleagues, your friends, or your self--it doesn't matter who you are talking to, as long as the conversation is a two-way dialog.

Conversation spurs knowledge, creates and cements ideas, and is vital to developing systems that benefit the people in our libraries. In ensuring our libraries evolve as true community assets, the first conversation we should engage in is with our members regarding their needs. Librarians have a choice to make--either start a conversation that will lead them to joining their members in creating a library that benefits their community; or quietly go about their business, handing out resources and wondering why their communities don't see their value. To be relevant to the conversation, you've got to engage in the conversation. Further, you've got to engage in the conversation using language that library members use. It is hard to get excited about a multi-disciplinary cross-searchable full text database if you aren't sure exactly what that means. It is much more effective to ask library members if they know that they can use the library's system to enter search terms, much like they would in Google, and access digital articles, books, and information that speak directly to their information needs. If they say they aren't interested, ask them why. Start a conversation with your members about what they do need. If they say they had no idea they could do that, ask yourself why. Start a conversation with your library staff and yourself about how to raise awareness of the resources your library holds that can be useful to members. This is just one example of one service, you can apply this to any resource or technology you think is underutilized, or even potentially needed, by your members. By continually engaging in these conversations in language that is meaningful to librarian and member alike, our libraries can be optimal environments for knowledge creation.

My Mission, Should I Choose to Accept It

I like having a mission. I like a solid foundation from which to spring into action and a bright goal toward which to work. The mission that R. David Lankes proposes in his recently published book, The Atlas of New Librarianship is right up my alley. According to Lankes, "the mission of librarians is to improve society through facilitating knowledge creation in their communities." If enough librarians and future librarians embrace this mission, libraries will be as unique as the members who frequent them.

I have a quite simple and firm conviction regarding where this mission begins--with people.  While the internet is rife with bloggers who call on librarians to employ new technologies and digital databases to remain relevant, I think they miss an important point. We only remain relevant when we understand what makes us relevant to our community at this moment in time. Thoughtfully employing new technologies is important, but not half as important as finding out what the individuals who come to our libraries want and need. When we've tuned in to our members, then we can concern ourselves with what technologies and media will best create an environment in which they have the tools they need to create knowledge.

Our solid foundation is our understanding of our community. Our bright goal is to create a safe place for our communities' individuals to share information and ideas to create understanding, reasoning and philosophy. And, because libraries have been evolving since their inception, our mission is ongoing. It is a mission I gladly accept.