Blatant Berry: Coaching Up

I've avoided the new literature of “the intergenerational workplace,” a genre becoming a fad. The boomers and their predecessors like me hang on as young GenXers and whoever comes next get jobs alongside us.

I know we need help to understand colleagues of different ages in order to work together effectively. I get along pretty well with everyone where I work. I learn from them and even enlist on teams to further our work mission. So far, however, I don't find useful answers in all the free advice out there about working across generations. And I know we'll be in this mix for quite a few years.

New young librarians have the toughest time. First, they have to get a job. They keep telling us that there are very few entry-level spots out there, and we keep telling them they are wrong. Those who finally find positions in libraries are frequently greeted by several generations of experienced, entrenched, usually older librarians. These geezers are not generally receptive to new ideas and new approaches to the work they've been doing for so long. I'm one of the older ones, just barely emerging from my technophobia. I owe that understanding to some sympathetic young colleagues. Gently, wearing their kid gloves, they taught me how to use the new stuff. I am grateful.

“Coaching up” is my label for this teaching of the older by the younger. It goes far beyond technological literacy. Those of us still emotionally trapped back in the Fifties and Sixties or in our memories of “the good old days” have to learn about all that is going on in the current culture and society. Of course, I know it goes both ways; the young have been kind enough to remind me that I do a bit of coaching myself.

But I'm pretty old. I've been “coached up” many times. Hell, I had to learn to love the Beatles and the Beastie Boys, classic rock, heavy metal, punk, and now I'm learning to love hip hop. I have to be more media savvy, more comfortable working in groups, more able to handle casual interactions across gender.

I have to learn almost everything about these times, and a great deal of it is about our new profession. Communication has fundamentally changed. The current rules of information exchange are difficult for the older generations steeped in the criteria they learned in what they called “library school” to validate or guarantee authority of information. I'm learning about the new ways information is found or created, retrieved, and disseminated. The young are teaching me new ways that ideas get from one brain to another.

They blog, IM, and text by telephone. They are always plugged in to and multitask on various devices, each with dozens of options. Trying to break into this multiplying network, to separate the useful and usable wheat from the marketing chaff is driving me nuts. But with their technological savvy and their easy aptitude for online communication, these younger folks are gently bringing me along.

They have taught me that validating information can be an exercise in open, ungated communities, where every participant brings at least a perspective, and even a bit of expertise, not just a proof from evidence, experts, or documentation. I'm even beginning to understand the David Lankes idea of library as community.

It isn't easy for me to grasp, to accept, or to learn this stuff. I'm a legacy editor with a long history of gatekeeping. I need a lot of coaching up. Of course, I'm reluctant to see the old ways replaced, but, luckily, I'm blessed to be working with exceptional colleagues in the current generation. Patiently, with perseverance and dedication to the new world they are creating, they are bringing me along.

Sometimes I get frustrated and blow my top. To their credit, my young colleagues don't get angry. Ultimately, we get back to working to understand each other. Most of that understanding comes from them to me. Bit by bit, I'm learning what I'll need to know to remain viable in this new world.