Presumably Not Busy

There’s not much worse than feeling what you do and what you love are irrelevant and unimportant. 

During some friendly banter with a group of friends this week, I was referred to as the “presumably not busy, research trained librarian.”  The implication was that because I was a librarian, I wasn’t busy.  The comment wasn’t intended to be a jab… but it still felt like one and I snipped at my friend for it.  Not only did it hurt my professional pride, but I also have a psychological nerve about being called lazy. 

I’ve tried very hard to make the people around aware of what librarians really do and how they help people, especially with my circle of friends.   So it was frustrating to hear this and realize people still have this picture of librarians as people who have lazy days, just hanging out, reading in front of the pretty leather-bound books partaking of scotch and cigars.  More importantly, this mindset affects the support and resources I get for my job as well as how my friends, family, and acquaintances view me socially.   

There is this impression that anyone can do what a librarian does.  And yes, anyone can... to a point.  Anyone can retool the engine in their car too.  Or rewire their house.  Or sew up their own stitches.  Or diagnose their own illnesses.  Or represent themselves in court.  But trained professionals are likely to do it much better. 

I’m really good at what I do.  I can do it faster and more effectively than Average Joe Google Searcher.  In fact, if it’s something a client can find easily on Google, they shouldn’t be wasting my time.  People come to me when they can’t find something with Google. 

Part of the problem is I’m not doing work that saves the world.  I’m supporting people who save the world.  The work I do doesn’t make headlines, but it makes the work that makes headlines better.  What I do is hidden. 

And yes, I’ve done what all the literature tells me to do about showing value and showing it in a variety of ways and getting the right supporters.  After ten years though, it seems I’ve had little impact.  (If that was the case, I imagine I would have been able to convince the manager who closed my library to have chosen differently.) 

I’m even arrogant enough to challenge doubters.  I offer to go head to head with me on a research topic of their choosing.  I tell them I can find not only more resources, but more relevant resources than they can in a shorter amount of time.  Most of the time this just elicits an uncomfortable chuckle and/or feet staring. 

Then I started thinking about all the people who don’t think like my friend.  The ones who have actually engaged in me in work projects.  They have a different attitude towards me because they know what I can do for them. 

So what’s the point I’m trying to make here?  (Aside from a liquor fueled tirade…)  The point is, that in spite of all the work I and the profession at large has been putting in to changing the image of the profession over the last decade, the majority of people still seem have the same view of librarians.

Demonstrating our value doesn’t come from statistics or stories, but from working with individuals and teams on projects that are important to them.  Offer to build them a database or organize the mess that is their information repository.  Find them information that saves them money or helps them make a better decision.  Create something with information.  Show them.  Don’t tell them.

End of soapbox.