I have authored a new post that is part of a larger ongoing series I’m composing and researching for DMLCentral. In this second post, I do some additional foregrounding of inquiry and reflection that will inform research and exploration of how this concept plays out in different kinds of libraries and communities. These concepts and the fieldwork I hope to do resonate deeply for me, and I hope they will for you, too.
I’m delighted to share that I have joined the blog team at DMLcentral-–I’m humbled and honored to write and think in this learning space as so many people who are part of the Digital Media and Learning Research Hub have inspired my work and pushed the boundaries of my thinking. My first post, “Literacies and Fallacies“, is now up if you would like to read the first of what will be a series. If DMLcentral is not already one of the resources in your learning network, I hope you’ll consider adding this collaborative blog and curated collection of free and open resources that will offer you multiple perspectives, research, and and provocative ideas to contextualize your thinking about learning environments, ecosystems, and the dynamics that inform them.
As fellow librarians, educators, and supporters of intellectual freedom, I thought you might be interested to know the state of Georgia plans to close public access to the Georgia Archives effective November 1 (please see http://www2.wsav.com/news/2012/sep/13/breaking-georgia-closes-state-archives-ar-4538200/). From that point onward, people will have to make an appointment to see our state’s treasures and history, and we will be the ONLY state in the nation to limit access in this manner.
Whether you are a citizen of the state of Georgia or someone elsewhere on the globe who appreciates the value and importance of open, unfettered access to archival records, please consider these courses of action:
- Liking the Facebook group/page that my colleague Elizabeth Dill and I have started to protest these closings, to access the latest news on the issue, and to share your thoughts on this crisis.
- Signing our online petition—we already have gathered nearly 5000 signatures in 24 hours!
- Contacting our leadership of this state to share your concerns in a thoughtful, constructive, and respectful manner:
- Governor Nathan Deal
- Secretary of State Brian Kemp
- Georgia State Senate
- Georgia House of Representatives
- Georgia’s Members of Congress
A heartfelt thank you to EVERYONE near and far who has helped support open, unlimited, public access to the Georgia Archives. The outpouring of support from so many organizations and individuals for this cause, one that has larger implications beyond the state of Georgia, has truly been humbling and inspiring. On behalf of my home state and its citizens, thank you for your consideration of support, and please feel free to share widely with family and friends.
Buffy J. Hamilton, Ed.S.
So I get up this morning to find this story in my inbox courtesy of Bobbi Newman, a fellow member of the ALA/OITP Digital Task Force. My initial reaction to the content of the article isn’t fit to print here, but I have a few thoughts I’d like to share:
- This is the year 2012. Digital literacy should be an essential literacy integrated into inquiry and content area study in grades K-12 by school librarians as well as classroom teachers. School librarians do more than check out books; we do our very best to collaborate with classroom teachers and students. At a time in which school librarians are being cut from public schools, does it not make more sense to use the funding to increase and grow a digital literacy corps of school librarians to meet children at their point of need where they already are?
- The economic crisis of public schools combined with existing misperceptions of what contemporary school librarians should be doing to contribute to their learning communities has resulted in unprecedented erosion of the profession of school librarianship. For ALA to not advocate with FCC to utilize and grow our ranks as people who already have this expertise is incomprehensible.
- The concerns raised by school librarians was never about thinking our jobs were being “usurped.” Instead, we questioned why the FCC would not utilize an existing corps (school librarians) and expand it at a time in which we are being hacked down left and right as public schools grapple with budget cuts. Why should children be asked to stay after school to learn an essential literacy in isolation?
- Our public librarians are also an existing corp of digital literacy experts. Again, why not provide funding to grow their staff and services to build upon their existing efforts to work with learners of ALL ages? Or to help public and school libraries develop partnerships to do community outreach to parents?
- It’s insulting for the FCC to say that they don’t need the services of librarians, but they’d love to hire someone else to utilize our learning spaces for this endeavor. Do you think we only check out books? That we’re not already teaching digital literacy? That librarians aren’t qualified to be your digital literacy corps? Why not use this funding to elevate and grow libraries and schools as partners in cultivating digital literacy for their communities?
- Digital literacy is more than computer literacy—see Project New Media Literacies.
- While these are dated from 2009, perhaps the FCC and ALA should reread Recommendation 6 and Recommendation 7 from the Knight Foundation.
- Josh Gottheimer, FCC’s senior counselor to the chairman, is quoted in the article as saying the effort is to close the participation gap and that ““It’s their choice [schools], if they so desire, to be part of this process.” Do you not get the public school system can be the conduit of closing all kinds of participation gaps for many kinds of literacy? Isn’t the public school system supposed to be a cornerstone of democracy and point of access for everyone? At a time in which public school funding is being cut and districts are in budget crisis nationwide, it seems it would be more prudent to fully fund public schools rather than forcing schools to spend money on unfunded mandates and to waste millions of dollars on standardized testing.
I rarely write blog posts in the heat of emotion, but the blatant disconnect in the statements in this article absolutely astonish and infuriate me. Not only is this disconnect between what the FCC perceives as a need and solution and what public schools and public libraries can offer a disturbing red flag, but I’m also deeply troubled by these statements in the article:
School librarians reacted so strongly to the story that representatives of the American Library Association (ALA) reached out to some bloggers to help clarify the role the ALA has had with the FCC over the proposal to help quell concerns.
I read these words and wonder if my service on the ALA/OITP Digital Literacy Task Force has been in vain and why I’m paying hundreds of dollars of years to belong to an organization, ALA, that felt compelled to “quell” concerns. Clearly, ALA does not see that the arguments we’ve outlined as ones to take up with the FCC or to understand digital literacy is a component of libraries’ (school and public) to provide lifelong learning for our communities at their points of need. And what exactly WAS ALA’s role with the proposal if it wasn’t to encourage the FCC to do more than merely use libraries as physical space to provide training? Did ALA not speak up for its members and tout our expertise and the work we’re already doing that could be expanded with this funding?
The thousands of librarians who are the frontline at ground zero of efforts to provide services and instruction in many kinds of literacies to our communities are acutely aware of what the needs are in our communities and the possibilities for meeting those needs if given appropriate staffing to expand and exceed a vision for learning. To read these kinds of statements is to feel that yet another government agency, the FCC, fails to understand what we do in spite of our efforts to share our work. In spite of the spin to put a positive bent to this issue, I feel cannibalized and betrayed by our very own flagship professional organization, ALA ; I am rethinking if I want to continue to pay to belong to an organization that doesn’t seem to really understand the work we do or the intensity and complexity of issues those of us in the trenches of librarianship deal with on a daily basis and that are undermining the potential and promise of the profession.
The new issue of School Library Journal features a cover story called, “Next Year’s Model: Sarah Ludwig left the library, became a tech coordinator, and forged a path to the future.” Unless I have misinterpreted the article, author Linda Braun wonders if school librarians have to leave the library and take on a completely different job title to do the work of a modern school librarian. The thesis seems to be that school librarians taking on job titles other than school librarian, like “technology coordinator”, might be the future of the profession. While I’ve had my own misgivings about the future of the profession, I respectfully disagree with Linda Braun and would argue that such a path will only lead to the demise, not the flowering, of our profession’s future.
In the last year, I’ve had conversations with colleagues like Ernie Cox, Kristin Fontichiaro, Heather Braum, Jennifer LaGarde, Susan Grigsby, Beth Friese, Linda Martin, Peter Bromberg, Melissa Johnston, Diane Cordell, and Sara Kelley-Mudie about the future of school librarianship. We’ve wondered about the future of the profession and the challenges of becoming more immersed as an instructional leader and pedagogy specialist in a current model of school librarianship that is physically limiting in the sense that one person, two at best in most places, is expected to excel in multiple roles for student populations that might vary from 850 to 2500 students and up to 100+ faculty in a building; in some cases, school librarians are being asked to be a teacher, program administrator, information specialist, leader, and instructional partner with no planning period and no clerical assistance. Like Braun, we’ve dared to wonder if we would be better positioned to accomplish the kind of change we envision in our learning ecosystems in another role, perhaps back in the classroom or some other educational role; at times, it’s felt rather blasphemous to even articulate such wonderings. However, I think such questioning and the interrogation of our beliefs, of what we’ve held sacred both personally and as a profession, are healthy so that we can reflect thoughtfully on what we value. Through these conversations I’ve had with my friends, the mucking around in what I believe has pushed me to the edges, particularly as I’ve dealt with some very trying circumstances in the last year that have threatened to encroach upon the heart of The Unquiet Library—the integrity of the instructional services and participatory model of learning I’ve tried to provide my school. The crucibles that I’ve faced personally and as a part of the larger profession have forced me to think long and hard about what I believe and how I might act upon those beliefs.
For me personally, these wonderings have intensified in the last two years as I’ve become much more immersed in my role as an instructional partner and have felt stifled by staffing decisions made at the district and building level and the larger cultural learning climate that like many places, emphasizes outcomes of standardized testing. At times, I’ve felt very disconnected from other conversations in “library land” that feel removed from my struggle to implement a vision of librarianship that has been participatory and learning focused for the last six years, a vision that I’ve tried to transparently share through this blog, presentations, published articles, webinars, and my library’s online presence, including my multimedia monthly and annual reports and research guides, I’ve been hopeful that sharing the work that I’ve done through my library program with students and teachers has shown a glimpse of what IS possible through school libraries.
However, to scale out what I’ve been with both depth and breadth and to leverage more impact in my learning community, I need additional librarians (and have the numbers to justify it) on my staff—it is simply not physically possible to reach 1800 students and 100 teachers under current conditions because the bottom line is that cultivating true partnerships for learning is extremely time intensive in terms of planning and actual implementation. Participating as a co-partner in the instructional design process, which is essential for creating meaningful, rich learning experiences, and participating in all phases of the learning experiences, including formative and summative assessments, requires a tremendous amount of care, energy, and time commitment. Nurturing and tending to these relationships require constant care much like a garden—you can’t plant the seeds and then just assume they will grow with minimum care or attention. And while technology integration is a part of these processes, it is not THE focal point—I’m more concerned with high quality instructional design and teaching than I am technology integration–if we don’t have sound pedagogy that we’re collaboratively crafting with teachers and students, we’re not really getting to the core of what libraries should be about—learning. With more human resources, we could reach more students and teachers not just in the physical and virtual learning spaces, but more importantly, to have the time to cultivate relationships and trust with our teachers, the true cornerstones of building communities for learning and partnerships for learning.
There is no doubt the current model of school librarianship is way past broken–this is not a big secret. It’s an outrageous, outdated model that basically demands we be the equivalent of a martyr and ultimately sets us up to fail in the kind of excellent and instructionally oriented work modern school librarians strive to achieve. It’s a model that has left us emotionally, physically, and intellectually drained and beaten up, a model that has failed to evolve with our mission and philosophy of 21st century librarianship. Instead of expecting less, we should be expecting more in terms of a model that would be supportive of the work we’re trying to do. And while I appreciate conversations about our future and how we shape that as school librarians, I respectfully disagree with Linda Braun that the future of school librarianship is to walk away from our title and to try and do the same or similar work under a different title. While I wholeheartedly applaud Sarah’s work, I’m disappointed Linda Braun did not include any discussion of school librarians who are doing the same work and possibly more in the role of school librarian. Yes, the term librarian is ridiculously laden with an array of complex political, cultural, and historical dialogic voices. But I think when we look at the short and long-term future of school librarianship, a conversation about elevating our role as instructional leaders and learning mentors would be a more thoughtful conversation. To imply that we as school librarians can’t do the work Sarah (whom for the record, I count as a valued friend and colleague, and whose work I very much respect) is doing and more with the title school librarians marginalizes the revolutionary work that many of us are doing (and under trying conditions, I might add) in the trenches of our nation’s public and private schools.
Rather than suggesting we can’t do the kind of work we know matters under the name “school librarians”, I would suggest we need to boldly embrace the term librarian and dispel the old stereotypes through more widespread and fearless sharing and transparency in that work that keeps students and learning through multiple formats at the center of what we do. Our challenge is how do we grow school library programs in these difficult economic times and a shifting educational landscape that is increasingly discounting the value of school libraries as an essential partner in learning spaces? How do we encourage our learning communities to expect more, not less of us, and to support a model of school librarianship that would increase not only the quantity of school librarians, but the quality of school librarianship as well? I still don’t believe it is through mandates, but instead, we must find better and more effective ways of engaging school and district administrators, school board members, teachers, students, and parents in honest conversations about librarians as instructional partners. How do we engage them with the shared story of library we’re trying to compose and construct with our teachers and students?
I do not have all the answers, and I’m wrestling with these questions as I and The Unquiet Library program face our most severe crucibles yet. And while I have had my share of dark days full of doubt and questioning, in my heart I still believe in the possibilities of libraries and school librarians–but those will never come to fruition if we acquiesce and abandon the effort to elevate the library as a site of participatory culture and a cornerstone of every child’s learning experience in schools, as a partner who can support our teachers by being embedded as part of the team to give every child positive, constructive, and meaningful learning experiences. Changing the perceptions about what modern school librarians do, not our job title, is essential for the future of this profession. Finger pointing and the blame game are ultimately counterproductive at this juncture in the profession—we cannot change what has happened in the past, but we CAN make a difference for the future with the work we do now if we will carry the banner for school librarian more assertively and with respect for the possibilities that are inherent in that name: a librarian is not a technology specialist, but instead, a learning specialist and architect.
While I love my physical library space, that is not what I’m trying distribute throughout my building, but instead, it’s the experience of library and myself, the human resource and all the energy, expertise in many kinds of literacies, and desire to help students learn, that provides the most benefits to my school. I wholeheartedly applaud Dr. David Lankes and his assertion that, “… great school librarians have collections of lessons they teach, student teams that assist teachers with technology, and collections of good pedagogy. Want to save money in a school? Close the library and hire more school librarians.” As long as I have a space to teach in the building and the means to teach teachers and students, I can bring the experience of library anywhere. Great and talented librarians, contrary to what those making budget decisions might think, are not easily replaced and whose absence won’t be appreciated until it is too late for our students and teachers.
We are librarians. Own it. You must believe even when others do not. For every doubter, hater, or naysayer, there are children and teachers whose lives and classrooms a school librarian has impacted for the good, and there is no longer room for those who do not put community, service, and people first. Let us not shrink from what that means and what it can mean, but instead, strive to grow the successful models of school librarianship that DO exist and DO make a real difference because they have a librarian whose work, struggles, passion, and collaborative efforts with teachers and students do matter in helping students compose their own narratives of learning.