LJ Series "A Day in the Life": Professional at 28

It is 6:50 a.m. on Wednesday, my Minneapolis day. I lie in bed, stare out the window for 42 minutes as I think about everything I have to do today. I push back the covers at 7:32 a.m., leave the house at 7:57 a.m., and unlock my office door at 8:12 a.m. I still marvel that I have an office—and this job. When I don't marvel, I freak out!

I've been a reference and instruction librarian (and, I remind myself, an assistant professor) at Metropolitan State University (MSU), St. Paul, for 17 months. I spent two years earning my MLS at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Then I worked another two-and-a-half years as a teen services librarian at the Hancock County Public Library in Greenfield, IN.

Now I've crossed over to the other side. I'm an academic librarian. Has the shift from a public to an academic library been tough? Interesting? The mostly young librarians who post on the NEXGEN discussion list frequently wonder about the transition from public to academic libraries. Their postings generate a flurry about how difficult it can be to get a job in an academic library after working in a public one. When I applied for this job, I wondered if I could ever work in a public library again.

When I saw the job ad for MSU, I thought I'd found a new way to be a librarian. In my new position, frustration and occasional terror sometimes grip me: when I'm teaching, or speaking in front of other faculty members, or trying to figure out how to be a “professional.” In other words, my life as an academic is peachy keen. If only I could figure out how to be 28 and have it all....

My last “one-shot” BI

It is 8:41 a.m. I am preparing to do a two-hour BI (bibliographic instruction) session this morning even though the librarians at Metropolitan State no longer do BI's. We found that the typical “one-shot” instruction sessions were ineffective. They didn't teach students enough library research skills. Some students never attended a BI session, while others were forced to sit through four or five similar programs. Now we offer a two-credit Information Studies course. We meet with students for three-and-a-half hours each week for eight weeks. I teach two sections of the course, one online (the first time we've offered it online) and one face to face.

I'm doing this last BI session because I have a hard time saying “no.” Even though some students have heard it all before, I talk for nearly an hour about library databases, scholarly vs. popular articles, and how to read information critically on the web. In our discussion of what constitutes a popular article, I showcase my pet interest (celebrity gossip) by showing the new OK! magazine. We discuss bogus sites on the web. Students compare a dozen web sites in order to practice their evaluation skills. I manage to wrap up the discussion by 11:05 a.m., sit down in my new ergonomic chair for two minutes, check my email for the seventh time today, and leave my office at 11:08 a.m.

Over the river...

At 11:11 a.m., I plug my cell phone into my car charger as I pull away from the curb to make the ten-mile trek to Minneapolis. The new David Grey CD (Grey Matters) plays, and I think about how busy these Minneapolis Wednesdays always are. Last spring, MSU and the Minneapolis Community and Technical College (MCTC) “colocated” their campuses. For the libraries, this meant a merger of space. We moved our entire business collection (cataloged in Library of Congress subject headings) to MCTC (its collection is cataloged in Dewey), and each librarian works one shift per week in Minneapolis. The change makes me feel a little disjointed. It is more difficult than I expected to work somewhere for only three hours once a week. I do a lot of “relearning” every shift. The student population at MCTC is different from that at Metropolitan State. At Metro, we serve mostly older students, people with jobs and kids and carrying a heavy load of “life experience.” The crowd here at MCTC is younger, hipper, and more urban. I like it at both places, but when I'm at MCTC, I sometimes feel like the kid at a slumber party who secretly wants to be home.

“Home” is where I'll need to go after I'm finished with my reference shift in Minneapolis. Back over the river (the Mississippi) and into the woods…of grading papers. I am so far behind that I feel like I'm up the creek without my paddle. I have 15 papers to grade before my on-campus section tomorrow, 18 papers to grade for my online class, 14 online posts to which I must reply, and five thesis statements to “clarify” with students.

Friday morning I will meet with the other librarians and some tenured faculty to help outline tenure standards for librarians at MSU. None of us has approached tenure yet, and it will happen for the first time this spring when two of our colleagues “go up.” Obviously, I have a vested interest in the process. I'll be in that place myself in four years. Four years? In four years, I'll be 32. Tenure? The future? It is all so frightening!

Friday afternoon I will go to a director's luncheon with my boss to talk to someone about how to run for American Library Association (ALA) Council because I am actually interested in doing it. Call me crazy!

How it's been good

I always tell people, “If I'm going to work in an academic library, Metropolitan State University is the place for me.” It's really true. I love working with mostly adult students. I'm glad I work at a public institution. I adore working in a brand new library, and part of the building is occupied by the recently opened Dayton's Bluff Branch of the St. Paul Public Library. I get to see kids every day. I love our mission, I love this staff, and I love the services we offer to not only students but to the whole community.

We have about a dozen computers set up for the public. Anyone in the community can use them or check out books and other materials. I have the chance to teach “College for Kids” workshops. I can tell kids, “See, you can go to college, too!” I get to see “life and learning meet” (our university motto) when I see an adult student's eyes light up, marveling at all the resources we offer. Because of the small team of librarians, I get to try my hand at almost everything here. I like and respect my colleagues and my boss. I even get five weeks' vacation this summer (and I can take them all in a row!). It just couldn't be better!

How it's been bad

On the downside, I have this self-confidence issue. It's been a rough transition from the public world to the academic universe. Academe feels very competitive. The underlying questions seem to be: What's next? What are you doing? Where are you going? How will you get there?” I concentrate on them a lot.

Other faculty act like it is taboo to talk about these things. I feel inept a lot of the time. People keep telling me that I just need to find my “niche,” or find something about which I'm passionate. If I don't have that already, I wonder how it will ever come to me. How can you find a niche when you're under pressure constantly to create yourself?

Piano and belly dancing

It is 8:44 p.m. I skipped out slightly early today to get to my lessons on time. I had a beginning piano lesson at 5 p.m. I'm currently mastering “Ode to Joy” and the “Racecar Rally.” After piano, comes belly dancing, where I've quickly realized that my hips don't shimmy, much to the dismay of my instructor. I decide to go home and grade papers like any proper teacher would do, but when I get home I find that my damned pet bat is back in my house (for the fourth time). Completely unable to deal with that, I sit with a cup of tea at a friend's house, papers in my lap, and fall asleep.

Is it Thursday already?

Where did my week go? I have to teach in two hours, and I still have eight papers to grade. I have saved the worst papers for last (a stupid idea), and now I struggle with how to grade papers fairly that are simply not very good. For the first time, I give a failing grade to someone who actually wrote a paper. I give her only four points on a ten-point assignment. I agonize over the decision. My boss takes a hard line about it. “You should give them what they deserve and don't harbor any angst about it,” he advises. I still feel guilty.

Class runs from 1 p.m. to 4:20 p.m., and as I turn on the projector, I curse the sore throat that is brewing. Today I'll talk about subject-specific databases and media bias. At 1:03 p.m., nine of the 18 students registered for the class are present. I wonder where the other nine are. Four students emailed me prior to class, citing reasons they couldn't make it today. One had a race car event; one had to schedule all the holiday hours at work; one had to take a picture somewhere; and another had to go to the bank. What? I read their excuses, wondering in what alternate universe these became reasons to skip a class.

Back in my office at 4:26 p.m., I'm exhausted. I see that teaching really wears me out. I haven't logged into my online class today, but I'll deal with the 37 new messages, 42 new submissions, and eight questions tomorrow. For now, I check my work email for the 33rd time today. I glance at my Yahoo and gmail accounts, online banking, the weather, and I check out what time Alias is on TV tonight. I talk to Jennifer, my colleague and friend, for 15 minutes (she's in Minneapolis today), and I get ready to leave at 5 p.m.

Winding down

As I leave, I stop to answer a reference question about how to find articles about religious movements in the United States. The student seeks information about the collective response to Scientology. Most of the articles we find have Tom Cruise in the title. I show her several databases to try, and she seems content to start searching on her own. I can't leave yet because I have to check if I won the Powerball last night. I didn't. I open my email for the 34th time and don't actually walk out of the building until 6:02 p.m.

I look at my email three more times during the evening and fill out the 2006 Nominating Committee Potential Candidate Biographical Information Form to put my name forward to run for a seat as an ALA Councilor-at-Large. I spend some time thinking about whether younger people will really get a chance in that organization.

At 10:02 p.m., I fall asleep on the couch reading Esquire and wake up in a panic at 11:44 p.m., thinking about my online class. As I drag myself upstairs to bed, I smile inside: this is the kind of job I have always wanted—one that keeps me busy, challenges me, keeps me going, going, going. I need some sleep....

Thank God it's Friday

At 10 a.m., it's tenure-planning time. This morning I sit with the four other librarians, a tenured faculty member, and our union lawyer to discuss standards. Our first librarians will go up for tenure this spring and since the library functions as a department, we all look for procedural, anecdotal, and just plain advice. I am quiet during the meeting, as I am during most meetings. I feel I don't have enough experience to contribute properly. I also have this feeling (however wrong it may be) that my own tenure is a long way off. Then reality hits, and I remember that everything I do now, every single thing I do today, tomorrow, or did yesterday has to somehow move me up the academic ladder and get me into tenureland. If someone says, “Thank you,” be sure to get it in writing. If someone says, “Good job,” make sure to document it. Make your file fat and keep track of everything.

I cut out of the meeting early to go to lunch with my boss. He takes me to a Twin Cities Metro Directors luncheon at Nicollet Island Inn. I ask him to introduce me to someone who is a member of ALA Council. I want to “network” and find out how to get on Council. I feel as though everyone at the table is slightly suspicious of me, like I accidentally sat at the grownups table at Thanksgiving. Of course, they all tell me, “Yes, you're exactly what we need! We need young people to take over the reins!” But when it comes down to it, the sidelong glances and the talk of the way “it's always been done” make me wish my Diet Coke was a glass of wine. I pay $24.35 for lunch and enter the debit in my checkbook. I have $233 left in my checking account to last for the next three weeks. I know that means very few $25 lunches....

At 1:44 p.m., I head out. I'm taking the afternoon off and picking up a college friend at the airport. It's our five-year class reunion this weekend (five years!). I drive away from lunch, take off my sweater, enjoy the beautiful afternoon, and wonder how it will all work out.

Lessons learned

I have learned so much in this job. I know how to chair a search committee, how to cry gracefully (and not so gracefully) in a meeting. I know that librarianship is a career that allows one to eat too much candy. I've learned that if you ask for what you want enough times, you might just get it. I learned that I enjoy teaching, even if it does make me nervous.

There are different kinds of lessons, too. I can be both professional and personal at the same time. It's a hard balance to maintain, but it's something I'm good at. It's okay to have a heart, to show some emotion, to say what you think, and to wear a skirt that buttons up the side. I've learned that I am provocative, smart, funny, and quite sassy. I am a valuable part of this profession and a day in my life is something I would never want to miss.