The Quest

“What are you going to do with your Library degree?” I was asked countless times in my last semester of Library School, in fall 2004. And, until I graduated in December, it was pretty easy to answer. I fired back enthusiastic responses about wanting to be a reference and instruction librarian. “Yes, I am concentrating on academic libraries. But of course, public libraries are great too, and yes, I could see myself working in one.” I rambled on about interests in other areas of librarianship—interlibrary loan, serials, collection development. I imagined that I could be any of these things right out of library school, because, you know, there are lots of library jobs out there.

Like my fellow library students, I was looking out at what seemed like an infinite universe of job opportunities, full of confidence.

This is what we were told in library school. There are jobs. There are many, many jobs.

I sure don't have a job. Now, the question has gone from “going to do” to “are doing?” That is, “what are you doing with your library degree?” Answering stirs feelings of uncertainty and images of dwindling bank balances and looming bills. It's a question I'm beginning to dread.

I began my job search months before graduating. In late fall, I applied for a job titled Interlibrary Loan Supervisor, which did not require a library degree. In fact, this was expressly stated in the first sentence of the qualifications for the job. It was as if they were saying, “To all those with a library degree: Please don't apply for this position. (Oh, and that goes for those of you who are still in the process as well).”

I wondered what this meant. Was it tied to salary? Was it really a clerical position? I read the job description over and over. It was comparable to other job announcements for interlibrary loan. I asked peers, colleagues, and advisors what they thought about pursuing a job that did not require a library degree. Their responses were mixed.

Even though I was weeks away from attaining my degree—remember, the degree the job announcement expressly stated candidates were not required to have—I went for it. I had the experience and skills the job required. It sounded interesting and challenging. It was a job in the Northeastern city where I needed a job.

I spent days crafting a cover letter and refining my resume. I noted that I was in the process of getting a library degree, but I did not emphasize it. I focused on my experience in interlibrary loan, my skills and interests, and my qualifications. I researched the institution. I drilled through the library's website and closely examined its stated policies and goals, services, and the department structure.

A week after emailing my letter and resume, I received an acknowledgment in the mail. How exciting, I thought, that my Word attachments had been opened without any embarrassing formatting issues. Even more exciting was that a copy of the job description was enclosed, and that, to my delight, it had changed. There was an added bullet that read “provide support to reference desk when busy.” Immediately, I felt this helped my cause, since I was in the midst of an internship in reference at an academic library. So, I did the math: one year ILL experience + successful academic reference internship + a touch of supervisory experience + library degree + willingness to work in position not requiring library degree despite having library degree = interview. I thought there was a real chance.

Six weeks later, I called to inquire. “The position has been filled. You didn't receive a letter from us?” No such letter had arrived.

I'd thought this was a great opportunity. I believed I was qualified. Buoyed by this and by the prompt response from the institution, I had expected good things. Now, I was confused.

Had I misspelled “library” anywhere? Did my “degree in progress” status get a mark in the con column? Should I have mailed my resume and cover letter instead of emailing it? I couldn't figure it out.

So now it's cold bracing winter. It's 2005. I'm happy, I think, to say that I'm still waiting to hear from another academic library where I actually interviewed in early December. This has been a good experience so far, but it too has confused me.

The job is an assistant manager position in the Access Services department. Specifically, this person would manager interlibrary loan and its employees, reserves, and some circulation activities.

As with the first job opportunity, this position did not require a library degree. Though this was not expressly stated, it was implied in the qualifications. Nothing new to me. I had been through this before. I poured over the job description and decided to go for it. I emailed my cover letter and resume, and again the response was prompt. But this time, they responded not only acknowledging my letter but wishing to schedule a telephone interview.

And so it begins, I thought. I have some momentum.

I arose two hours before the telephone interview was scheduled. I showered, shaved, and put on slacks and a shirt and tie. While doing the interview, I made sure to stand straight, so that my voice projected well. I smiled as I spoke, to project enthusiasm and spark. I wanted to feel as though I were in an office on an important call, striking deals, soothing tensions, and moving things forward with vision and efficiency. I consulted no motivational speakers and paid no therapists in devising this approach.

The interview went well. It must have, because the story gets better: the school emailed hours after the telephone interview was over and asked me to interview in person, on campus. I was in.

Even the live interview went well, all three hours of it. The first half consisted of the formal interview with a three-person search committee. I felt great. I was able to answer all of their questions, nearly every single one ending with nodding heads and even smiles. They liked what I had to say, and they seemed to like me.

We toured the library. I met with some support staff, who asked me questions. This too had positive vibes. Finally, I met one-on-one with the person I would report to. This person told me I was impressive, that they liked what I had to say, that there was only one other candidate, and that the library wanted to move quickly in filling this position. They would let me know their decision the week after next. They even said something along the lines of, “I've probably said too much already, but you're my choice.”

I was stunned. I had gotten an interview, and I had impressed the person who I would be working for. It was a positive, reassuring conversation. Or so I thought.

I never heard that week. I waited and waited, and finally, weeks later, I emailed. I didn't want to call and put someone on the spot, risking scaring them away. It turned out that they were closed for a while, that some of the people involved in the hiring process had been away. “We'll be making our choice in the beginning of the New Year.”

Yes, winter 2005. Am I really happy to say that I'm still waiting to hear from another academic library, this time one where I interviewed in early December? Sure, “no news is good news.” Is it? How about “patience is a virtue”? I think these are my least favorite clichés right now. I'm still wondering what happened in between “you're my choice” and the dead of winter 2005.

As the days go by, the question “What are you doing?” becomes a little more troubling. It's uncomfortable, now that I don't have the in-school buffer on my side. We've recently graduated, and along with the rest of the world, we're out there. I answer without really specifying exactly what it is I want to do, because I'll do anything. I remain enthusiastic and positive…and realistic.

In the last two weeks, I've applied for four positions that do not require a library degree. They all specify duties similar to both the work of librarians and the work of clerical staff. I have not applied for any jobs that require a library degree.

As it turns out, there aren't nearly as many jobs as advertised in library school. What job market were my professors paying attention to? Most of the library jobs advertised are not attainable without years of experience, another Master's degree, or no library degree at all.

This is the state of things. Even in the context of shrinking budgets, what do these trends say about libraries preserving and creating niches for new librarians? I sure don't know. Drop me a line if you do know, or, if you have any information on any entry-level jobs for librarians in the Northeast.

A guy can dream.

Fast-forward, if you will. I think I'm dreaming now, because this actually ends with success.

I fell asleep the morning I emailed, yet again, to the library I had been waiting for so long to hear back from after a very good interview. They emailed back and asked for references. Are they toying with me?

Day one goes by. Days three and four were hard without any contact. They are toying with me. I'm obviously a last resort, a backup of sorts. Day five hits, and I groggily log into my lonely looking-for-work email account. There, unexpectedly, is a new message: the references have been called, they raved, we're interested, give us a call.

Steady now. Make some coffee. Get your thoughts together. Don't call Mom yet. On second thought: you want ME to work for YOU? I'm not so sure now. These last thoughts lasted all of about three seconds as I poured myself some coffee. I called, left a message. They called back with an offer. Yes, I say, yes. When do I start, and when do I get paid?

If this tale was a bib record, you could find it via key phrases “apply-for-everything,” “stand-up-and-smile-during-phone-interviews,” “calculated persistence,” “study-the-website-before-you-interview,” and, unfortunately, “patience is a virtue.” You might recall that this last phrase ranked as one of my least favorite clichés in the winter 2005. But times change; winter to spring, jobless to job-full.

It's now summertime. I'm lucky and I'm humble but thriving. I'm managing people and projects, helping to shape policies. Soon I'll be doing reference. I'm counted on. I had no idea it would be this good. I even get paid. Still, I'm not technically a librarian. Go figure. But a job's a job, to employ yet another cliché.

“What are you doing?” isn't such a bad question now. It comes with a positive answer and a pretty good story—even for the recently graduated.