NextGen: Priorities & Professionalism

By Sophie Brookover -- Library Journal, 9/15/2006

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I love being a librarian. I talk about it like it's a wonderful new boyfriend, even though I've been a working librarian for four years. I love being a mother. I talk about my infant daughter, Nell, like, well, like she's my daughter. Now, my beloved outreach, programming, collection development, and readers' advisory—not to mention my many extracurricular commitments, such as blogging and committee work—compete for my time and attention with early childhood development, those first teetering steps, story time, and teething relief strategies.

That's difficult for me to admit. I've worked hard to earn a spot as a reviewer for Voice of Youth Advocates, to shepherd the New Jersey Library Association's blog from a seed of an idea to a reality, and to parlay my blog, Pop Goes the Library, into a book deal. Now I'm struggling with a realization: I don't want to be defined by them anymore.

It's likely that this priority shift would have happened eventually for me, regardless of becoming a parent. There's a bigger issue here: what librarianship loses when it fails to acknowledge that many of its newest, most energetic members don't want the career track that many of its most experienced members chose.

If, premotherhood, I was a go-getting, moving and shaking new member of this profession, postmotherhood, I am now the one looking for a graceful way to get out of some of my commitments.

I declined to apply for the recently available position of department head. I crunched numbers to see if my family can afford for me to work 19 hours a week instead of 35. I am hoping that the next five years will see me not ascending to a managerial position but, with some trepidation, leaving behind front-line librarianship for a second career as an author and library consultant. I want to continue moving and shaking but at a pace that suits my new life.

Of course, I'm not the only one thinking this way. I'm one of many younger librarians having children and undergoing a priority shift as a result. Many of us are eliminating professional commitments to make more time with our families and spend more time on hobbies and other outside interests. We don't want to be managers and have no designs on becoming library directors, thanks very much.

Some would say that by doing so, we're depriving the profession of our best, most energetic, and creative years, or shirking our responsibility to be the next cadre of library managers and directors. I say we're redefining our responsibilities to the profession.

Like our boomer colleagues before us, we're paving the way for libraries to transform themselves, this time into flatter, more democratic organizations. As our priorities shift, so must the library's.

We want more flexible work schedules, period. Offering flextime and job-sharing should be the first order of business. How about onsite, subsidized child care? I realize this may seem pie in the sky right now, but I truly believe it is the wave of the future. Set your parent employees' minds at ease by letting them work near their children.

And, of course, offer higher pay. If some of your librarians are opting to share their jobs or work part-time, you're saving a bundle on benefits. Show your employees how much you value them with bigger raises.

Ask your employees what they need. Work with them to make the changes that work best for the organization as a whole. You probably can't give your employees everything they want, but the mere act of asking them what they need is important. A staff that is empowered to share its needs is a happy staff, one less likely to suffer from burnout and more likely to help the library thrive, even during tough times.

It's time for members of my generation who don't want to run in the rat race, whatever the reason, to become role models ourselves. It's time for us to redefine what work-life balance means to us, to own and make our choices about work life and home life so that we can get and give our best efforts at both.

When I leave work, I love the freedom of knowing that I can leave it behind and fully enjoy my home life while I am there. I love coming into my library each day, ready to focus on the work at hand because I am secure in the knowledge that my child is safe and happy with her friends and teachers at daycare.

Balance between work and home inspires, fulfills, and rejuvenates me for time devoted to the other. The question is: Will my profession find its balance along with me?