Inky Reflections

So, last Thursday morning an assorted cast of literary figures, media types and Melbourne intelligentsia congregated at the space-formerly-known-as-CBWI (Pronounced "ka-BWEE"), and officially named the Wheeler Centre, after the founders of Lonely Planet, Tony and Maureen Wheeler.

Whilst this was all well and good, there was another exciting event unfolding literally metres away inside the State Library of Victoria. Over three months, Australian teens were given the opportunity to read and vote for the best Australian and International young adult literature, publishing in Australia over the last financial year.

And, from what I've heard, votes for each book went into the hundreds, and every vote certainly counted - at one point, there were only a handful of votes difference between three of the shortlisted books for the Golden Inky (for best Australian YA book).

So, as you can imagine, waiting to hear the results were excruciating. All shortlisted books were thoroughly deserving. I remember first reading Sherman Alexie's Absolutely True Story of a Part-time Indian, and thinking, "This will win the Inkys next year." But then John Green's Paper Towns came out, and after the 2007 Inky Awards, he was always going to be a strong contender. Mal Peet's Guardan-winning Exposure blended his South American football world with Shakespeare's Othello, and Mariko and Jillian Tamaki's stunning Skim is a unique YA graphic novel. But the Silver Inky went to Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games - a fast-paced adventure set in a dystopian world where teenagers are annually picked to fight in a televised arena deathmatch, where there can only be one winner. It sounds a little cheesy, and potentially unoriginal, but Collins never fails to keep the tension high, and her characters are so engaging that the reader can't help but dread their impending fate with the turn of the page. I've just finished the second book in the trilogy, Catching Fire, and it's equally as compelling - if not moreso. This book takes all the winning elements of The Hunger Games, then raises the stakes again. The story runs at a breakneck pace, careering for doom and disaster. And it doesn't disappoint. Like Patrick Ness's The Ask and the Answer, Catching Fire is a superb second-in-the-trilogy novel, which both satisfies, and leaves us hanging on, nay, begging for the final book, to put us out of our misery.

But I digress. Back to the Inkys.

It was time to announce the Golden Inky winner. Like John Green, 2007 Golden Inky winner Simmone Howell's Everything Beautiful was definitely in the running. Adrian Stirling's compelling debut Broken Glass and Richard Harland's steampunk fantasy Worldshaker both depict very different but cruel and complex worlds. David Metzenthen's Jarvis 24 is a rare treat that delivers an inexplicably honest boy's story of venturing beyond one's comfort zone and learning about the world. Funny, and down to earth, it was a perfect match to Everything Beautiful. But the Golden Inky went to Randa Abdel-Fatah's Where the Streets Had a Name. I read this when it first came out a year ago, and I was struck by how powerful the story was - of a girl living in Israel-occupied Palestine. And yet, not once whilst reading this, did I ever feel that Fattah was using the book as a political platform. And this is where the true strength of this book comes - the human factor - about families living in adverse conditions, and their dreams, joy, love and tragedy. It's not about blame - it's about people getting on with their lives as best they can, because they have to. It has laugh-out-loud moments, as powerful as its eye-dabbing tissue box moments, and a worthy winner of the 2009 Golden Inky Award.

And reflecting on the Inkys for a moment, I'm not only struck by the amazing standard and range of YA literature that's come out in the past year, but by the fact that these books were read and voted for by many hundreds of teenagers across Australia. It's proof that, despite what some people might say about "young people these days", there are still a LOT of teenagers who are passionate about reading, and about sharing their passion with others. Teenagers who are prepared to take a list of books, read them, and then vote for their favourite book - not because a teacher or parent told them to, but because they WANTED to. A friend of mine recently challenged the legitimacy of Young Adult literature as its own category, and she sort of had a valid argument - basically that most young adults are capable of reading adult literature, and that much of it deals with young adult protagonists - why shouldn't it just all be put together with the adult fiction? Surely YA is just a marketing tool to sell books to teenagers and parents who don't know what to read? Surely teenagers should learn to read "good" literature, rather than "age-specific" literature? And I can see where she's coming from. But there's something about YA literature that specifically captures the passion, and the hopes and dreams of young adults - because it was written specifically for them, and at the same time reminds older people like myself of where I came from, and perhaps to draw me back to the path that I started on, to realise my own dreams.

Okay, again I'm digressing, so I'll wrap this up before I get too sentimental and wishy-washy. Congratulations to the winners, shortlisted and longlisted titles for the Inkys. Extra congratulations to the winners and finalists of the Creative Reading Prize. Kudos to the Centre for Youth Literature and the judges for another awesome Inky Awards. And finally, thanks to everybody who read and voted for their favourite book. It's times like these when I know I did the right thing by becoming a librarian, because without programs like this, the world would be a slightly less awesome place.

Getting the 411 on Library 101

So, as many of you readers will be aware, David Lee King (writer of the highly-recommended-reading Designing the Digital Experience) and Michael Porter (aka Libraryman have just launched a new collaborative project - Library 101.

Without having clicked on anything yet, the title seems to imply that there is fundamental set of skills and knowledge that all librarians should have, and this project is based around defining / redefining that set.

And playing the video... well, it certainly encapsulates the passion and creativity that these prominent figures in the online librarian community are already renowned for. Sure, it's daggy, and it reinforces a few negative stereotypes about librarians being a little dysfunctional in their attempts to be "hip" and "cool" (hey, I should know) but it still managed to stir up enough of a buzz to get noticed by Boing Boing, which is pretty much the geek's equivalent of making it onto Australian Idol.

But, from listening to the lyrics of the song, the gist of it was society has changed, and the roles that libraries play in society has changed, therefore we need to rewrite our "library 101" - that is, our basic skills, to incorporate things like brand marketing, web development, etc in order to keep our profession relevant, otherwise we'll become extinct. I think that was the gist of it. I confess, after about three minutes, I started skipping bits.

Anyway, moving past the sales pitch, I moved into the real heart of this project - a list of 101 Resources and Things to Know. As the aforementioned lyrics suggested, the basics have changed. Which, of course, leads to the question, "Well, what are the new basics - the basic skills that all librarians should have?"

This proposed list, is it. The basics. The absolute minimum set of skills and knowledge that every accredited librarian should have.

And it's a pretty good list. A good list of examples. The only big ones that I feel has been overlooked are reader development and the knowledge and skills required to promote literacy, both in the context of early readers, as well as in addressing illiteracy in adults. But, arguably, these are only important amongst public and school libraries, so they aren't strictly a "101" skill.

Here's my issue, though.

If these are truly the basic essentials, then why aren't they assessed in the coursework that qualifies us as librarians?

And, in terms of continuing professional development, why is this message coming from David and Michael, and not from our professional associations?

Furthermore, if our professional associations announced that all professionals had a year to brush up their skills and get up to scratch with their "library 101", or their professional memberships would be revoked, then memberships would plummet - either out of an unwillingness to adapt, or out of protest.

And whilst this "library 101" represents the basics for people such as David and Michael, the fact is that for the majority of librarians, if they are good at their job, then they already possess their "library 101". Yes, the basics do change, and we change with them. However, our professional is so diverse, that it's unfair for one librarian to judge librarians working in a different library sector. An librarian who is an expert on picture books and developmental child psychology might not necessarily know a thing about hulu or web usability, but that doesn't make them "deficient" in their library skills.

So, with all due respect to David and Michael for their passion and desire to exhibit leadership in the industry - I'd like to suggest an alternate "library 101". It has nothing to do with lists of 23 things, or 101 things, or how many university degree you have. It's just about caring about what you do in your job as a librarian, doing it competently; exercising best practices. These best practices will vary depending on the context of your work, and will change with time.

By all means, expand on your knowledge to include value-adding skills, like web development, or marketing, or creating awesome presentations, or running team building exercises. or learning about the latest Google thing that most people off the street don't use. I mean, even customer service skills are only fundamental to those librarians who work on a reference desk. And there are plenty who don't. These skills will take you a long way. But don't judge other librarians if they don't have them - especially if they don't need them to do their job well. Feel free to share these skills, but allow them to reserve the right to decline and instead focus on honing the skills that their job requires.

This is a library, not a...

From time to time, I hear the sentiment expressed:

"This is a library, not an x"

where x = one of the following:

a internet cafe
a coffee shop
a video arcade
a child care centre

an the list continues.

In a recent post on the YALSA blog, the library is this time compared to a supermarket - both in the way that it offers its services, and the way that its visitors use the service. It bemoans the habits of young people in using libraries as a place where they just go to grab something - anything - off the shelves, and only when they really need it. A place that you visit briefly to get what you need, but don't stay.

But more and more, we're encouraged to take a retail approach and learn to use marketing strategies in providing library services. To create, not only an information service, but an information experience. That means being able to engage library visitors the moment that they walk in the door, and present them with immediate reading choices through displays of face-out stock. And, realistically, most library visitors aren't time-rich enough to spend an hour or two at the library.

Furthermore, what may strike some observers as being a simple quick-and-easy "supermarket" service, where one walks in and "picks something up" is a little more complicated below the surface.

Back in the 1960s, a children's television show was designed to provide accessible educational viewing for young children. It was innovative for its time, because it introduced the idea of providing high quality education through methods used in television advertising. Child psychologists and educators teamed up with television producers and marketing experts. That show was called Sesame Street.

I think there is sometimes a misconception that taking a more "retail" approach to libraries somehow detracts from the educational value of the service, or ignores the "library science" approach to managing libraries. But they don't necessarily have to be opposing, mutually exclusive forces. Libraries have a valuable product and service - all that a retail approach offers is a more effective way of engaging library visitors.

And just as supermarket shelves are organised to be easily navigated, as well as have the most attractive stock displayed in order to sell as much of their product as possible, so too should libraries use similar strategies to provide ease of access to navigate the collections, and provide clear choices for the many visitors who don't necessarily know what they want, and are just browsing (but only have 10 minutes to find a book to borrow).

And at the same time, provide services that have made other businesses become social hubs for their users, whether it be a coffee shop, or gaming machines, or wireless internet, or board games. No, these things aren't going to lead library users to necessarily read more, any more than a coffee shop in Borders will, but it encourages people to interact socially in the library space, which is somewhat at the heart of building communities.

Questions & Answers

There have been some interesting responses to last night's post.

Most of them seem to revolve around the idea that membership of a professional association is about providing benefits to the individual member, and it is a case of deciding whether these benefits are worth the several hundred dollars a year for membership.

Essentially, the question is, "What's in it for me if I join?"

Similarly, as part of a strategy to retain membership and actively respond to the needs of members, ALIA regularly conducts a member's survey. They also address areas of concern to members through hosting a national advisory congress, where members can tell the professional association what they want.

Put simply, the professional association is asking it's professionals, "What do you want us to do for you?"

But here's the thing. A professional association isn't a service provider. It's not a matter of give and take. And it's certainly not a question of "getting your money's worth". I think that anybody who sees professional membership in that way has severely missed the point.

No, the question that's first and foremost in my mind when it comes to joining an association - be it a professional association, or a community group, or a special interest club, is "Who else is active in this association?"

Other questions that arise from there are:

What opportunities will there be for me to actively participate in my association?
How will this professional activity help promote the professional industry?
Will I get to feel like I'm a part of something that's important to the profession, and play an active role in defining its presence in the industry?
What opportunities will I get to work together with other professionals, in achieving our collective goals - as a profession? Not self-serving goals, but rather the principles on which the profession is based - on providing access to information, facilitating its free-flow, building socially-inclusive communities, and promoting lifelong learning.

The answer? The professional association can't do these things for you. But you can do these things through active membership in the professional association.

Of course, I know that not everybody got into librarianship for these reasons. For some people, they thought it would be an easy job in a quiet workplace. But I'm pretty sure that nobody got into this industry for the high-paying salaries. Like other professions, such as teaching or nursing, you gotta do it because you're passionate about it, or you're just going to end up hating your job and wasting your life.

And a professional association, above all, creates the opportunity to form a closeknit professional community across the industry. Maybe the reason I've felt jaded is that it's only been six months since I've moved back to Melbourne, and haven't found the opportunities to fall into a similarly active professional community as I did when I was in Darwin. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place. Maybe my timing is just wrong. But these things can all change.

But hey, I'm here. And I've renewed my membership for my professional association.