Thursday 11 November 2010

What I did on my library vacation!

Ah, so. November rolls around and I'm still without a full-time job. Two years ago, I assumed my late twenties would entail moving to a (more) spacious house in a nice bit of Yorkshire countryside, having a colony of cats, and planning my wedding to my long suffering fiancé. Well, I'm living in a flat in Yorkshire's BNP heartland, have two cats who eat more meat than I do, and the wedding date has yet to be set.

To try to combat this career malaise, I've decided to start volunteering. Mindful of my friend Lauren at Voices for the Library's advice that volunteering for public libraries doesn't do much to help their case for keeping their funding, I've devoted my time to the Feminist Archive North, and a local primary school library. I'm off to the latter tomorrow, being thrown in at the deep end with a Harry Potter-related quiz and hopefully some seven year old kids who are eager to learn. Adding that to my weekend gig almost makes me 0.75 FT!

I'm not entirely sure whether this will pay off, but I'll let the non-readers of this blog know. In any case, I'll finish with an inspiring quote that aforementioned Lauren came across and sent to me for a potential article on the gendered nature of librarianship post-20th century:

“To my thinking, a great librarian must have a clear head, a strong hand, and above all, a great heart…and I am inclined to think that most of the men who will achieve this greatness will be women.” — Melvil Dewey

Tuesday 14 September 2010

Use us, or lose us

So. Job options for librarians seem to be more pathetic than a small kitten left out in the rain. My recent experience has shown me that newly-qualified folk seem to be hit the hardest, as well as those struggling to get their first taste of work experience in this wonderful profession. There have been several vacancies in my library, ranging from low-grade paraprofessional posts with a hotchpotch of part-time hours, to high grade middle management posts. Of course, I am happy and willing to take on low-grade posts, but despite having several years' experience in academic libraries and 5/6 of a CILIP-accredited MSc, the competition is still fierce.

I have, naturally, begun to look outside of libraries. I do have lots of transferrable skills, and feel I could adequately do the following jobs:

- Technical author
- Copywriter
- Web designer
- IT trainer
- Graphic designer
- First line technical support
- Cashier
- Customer service manager
- Filing clerk
- Counsellor
- Project manager
- Security guard
- Search Engine Optimiser
- Secretary
- Visual merchandiser

And with a bit more thought, I could multiply that list several times over. Due to this transferability, I suspect many other newly qualified librarians are looking for jobs outside of the profession as well. Yet, libraries are closing. Cuts are happening. This means fewer librarians, and fewer qualified librarians. How can we fight for our future if, well, there aren't any of us? It's a bit of a Catch-22.

The fact I am getting very few interviews indicates to me that people from outside the profession really don't understand what we do, and why we do it so well. (Either that, or I have poor social skills.) And, although I really hate using crude comparisons to make a point, my brother does a job involving only a handful of the roles I've listed above, and his salary would pay for three Chartered librarians at CILIP's minimum recommended rate. We're polymaths, and we're worth our weight in gold.

Note to society: use us, or lose a generation of us.

Thursday 4 February 2010

On Human Transparency

Yesterday, I had an interesting discussion with my friend Lauren on transparency in the LIS profession. The salient point was that we'd both noticed an occasional reticence among people to share what they were doing to make their name known in the field. For example, I shared an interesting job post with a former colleague and received the reaction, "but aren't you applying for this too?" Yes, I am. May the best man win.

This seems a great shame to me. After all, collaboration and sharing knowledge is what binds our profession together. Recently, when putting together a conference proposal, my first task was to ask my old team for advice. Through doing this, I obtained sample proposals, copies of articles which were otherwise unobtainable, and perhaps most importantly, the acknowledgement that many professionals were interested in finding out what little old me had to say. I think it's almost impossible to undertake such a task without guidance from people who've previously been in your shoes. I will admit that I am very, very competitive, but if I gain something from denying other people, obtaining it is a rather shallow victory.

During my Masters, it has been gratifying that many coursemates are keen to share useful articles, or opportunities, via Twitter or the course's VLE. This is exactly the way I think it should be; I have nothing to gain from closing myself off from others, and everything to gain from letting everyone know what I'm doing on the five days a week I'm not at university!