Reflection on Reading, 15 April

This week's readings, the last of the semester (links require UM log in):

• "When Teachers Drive Their Learning" by Joseph Semadeni
• "The C's of Our Sea Change: Plans for Training Staff, from Core Competencies to Learning 2.0" by Helene Blowers and Lori Reed
• "Planning an Online Professional Development Module" by Kristin Fontichiaro

The Semadeni reading proposed an interesting program: teachers are given time and a framework for professional development during contract hours (what I take to mean school hours). The teachers are encouraged to participate in the program through incentives and administrative support, including monetary incentives. According to Semadeni, teachers are motivated not just by money, but by the ability to choose what they will learn and the opportunity to learn during their normal working hours. That isn't hard to believe - I can only imagine that most teachers would embrace any opportunity to better serve their students, but their demanding schedules, as Semadeni explains, get in the way of professional development before or after school hours. 

Reading articles like this is both inspiring and frustrating. The program seems perfect. The teachers are learning, the students aren't being neglected, and the administration is happy. But then why aren't all schools doing this? Inertia on the part of school boards and administrators? Probably. 

Of course, this article echoes the way that we have been learning in this class, especially the ways in which we have been observing each others' work in addition to completing our own. There hasn't been the element of choice, but that is to be expected when you're taking a course for credit. 

The articles by Blowers and Reed and Fontichiaro (of course) also discuss development programs much like this class. The "Learning 2.0" program discussed by Blowers and Reed is described as "summer reading" for adults, and now that I think about it, that feels about right. We've gone through a list of practical skills for librarians (much like a summer reading list) and done our best to learn each one. A lot of our learning has been self-guided, as Fontichiaro discusses in her article (imagine that). It's interesting to see familiar methods for teaching explained in a library context; maybe when I'm a librarian, I'll institute a similar program in my library. Memes and all. 

For the exactly 0% of those reading this who aren't aware, this is the last blog post required by the course. It will probably be my last post all together - blogging isn't really my thing, it seems. I am on Facebook, though, and Twitter (@kriskottenbrook). And LibraryThing (though I kind of hate LibraryThing and you'd do better looking me up on Goodreads). And Tumblr, but you'll have to hunt me down if you want to find me there.

So, I leave you with the immortal words of Ferris Bueller: "It's over. Go home. Go."

- K

             

Reflection on Webinars

Last week, instead of having a normal class period, we presented a webinar that we had planned in groups over about a week. We also viewed some of our classmates' webinars. This was the first of the practical exercises we've done that I don't feel went half as well as it could have. I observed some possible causes of this both while presenting my own webinar and viewing others'.

First, communicating with people when there is no feedback is much harder than it sounds. And it sounds pretty hard. I had expected that I would be more comfortable just talking to my computer than I normally am talking to a room full of people, but that was definitely not the case. Physically standing in front of a group and talking gives me a feeling of being grounded; I can use body language and read the audience's body language in order to tailor my speech or pacing. When all I had to look at was the slide I was on and an incredibly distracting chat box, I felt like I was speaking into a void. It was like practicing a speech in an empty room, except that people could actually hear me. The webinar that I viewed a couple of weeks ago had seemed scripted, and at the time that was off-putting. But after having to do this myself, I completely understand why people just read off of a script.

An effect of not feeling "grounded" in my presentation was that I sort of oscillated between just talking without thinking much about it and completely losing focus and losing my train of thought. Something that might help with that problem in the future would be to print out a copy of all of the slides so that I could remind myself of the context of the current topic. Just having something physical to hold and look at, rather than notes in a Google doc, might also be helpful.

One main point that I gathered from viewing other webinars (which were all done very well, by the by) was the importance of the slides the presenters used. The instructor had mentioned this before, but it was good to actually see it. It sounds shallow, but I have remembered the presentations with visually engaging slides much better than the ones with slides that were just bullet points on a plain background. Having pretty or dynamic slides to look at also reduced my urge to go on Facebook or do whatever else while the webinar played in the background.

I also noticed that the nature of the webinar format - pre-made slides and voices, but no video - smoothed over some problems that may have occurred on the presenters' end. I think that happened with my own webinar, and I know that it happened with the ones that I viewed. A member of another group told me that her group had done particularly poorly, but I never would have guessed that from what I saw. So that, at least, is reassuring.

On the whole, I found more to dislike about webinars as a format than things to like about them. For one thing, I didn't retain information from the webinars that I viewed. Because I relish the opportunity to whip out a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference, I'll quote Giles: "The knowledge gained from a computer has no texture, no context. It's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible." The webinars, while well-planned and well-executed, were intangible and thereby forgettable.

This isn't to say that webinars can't be a useful format. They overcome barriers such as accessibility (in some cases), distance, time constraints, and cost. But I think that they should be a last resort. If there is a better way to relay the same information to the same people, that is the route to take.

Reflection on Tweeting, 3 April 2014

The "reading" for this week was to join Twitter, build a network of at least 25 professionals in our fields, and tweet or re-tweet at least five times. After having done the minimal amount of work for this assignment, I feel comfortable commenting on the state of librarianship on Twitter.

An interesting thing that I immediately noticed was that, in contrast to the blogs we've been reading, the levels of professionalism on Twitter are highly variable. The most career-focused or academically-focused bloggers that I have been following are the ones tweeting about the season finale of Cougar Town. Even organizations such as the Public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County (@cincylibrary) take on a very informal tone from time to time. This made it difficult to judge whether an account was worth following in a professional context; maybe an account sometimes tweets brilliantly about librarianship, or maybe it's really just all cat videos. Related to that was the observation that it's not always worth it to build a "network" of a bunch of librarians and information professionals if not all of those professionals tweet anything about the field. Although, some of the silly or lighthearted tweets from libraries and librarians go a long way toward reminding me why I wanted to be a librarian in the first place. Always a good thing.

Observing the difference between the content on Twitter and on personal blogs is a great illustration of how the medium influences the message. Twitter is great for short, one-off messages and links, less so for serious conversations.

Twitter is also a great tool for keeping up with the news and other recent developments. People often tweet links to articles, which are then re-tweeted throughout the original poster's network So if someone I follow retweets a link about school librarianship from someone she follows, that link shows up on my feed, and I see the story, which I may never have seen otherwise. You can also follow the Twitter accounts of organizations like NPR, which means that about a million news stories show up in your feed every day. For an information professional, this makes Twitter a great tool.

Finally, on a completely selfish note, Twitter is great for networking. It's the virtual equivalent of casually meeting someone at a cocktail party - you see a conversation, you say something witty, and you hope you make a good impression. I'm currently sidling over to some librarians from the PLCH. Would it be too gauche to tweet a photo of my business card?

Reflection on Class, 27 March

We spent a lot of time last week discussing the controversy over a plan to turn part of the Ann Arbor District Library's parking lot into a public park. Information on the (let's say) disagreement can be found here, though as always, I would advise against reading the comments.

This case sparked a lot of interesting conversations about how to handle inappropriate behavior in the library (and what constitutes inappropriate behavior), drug use as a community problem, and to whom a public library has an obligation.

Some examples of inappropriate behavior are pretty obvious - drug use or dealing, fighting, harassing other patrons, etc. Some are less so. For example, when is it loitering vs. enjoying the space? Are you loitering if you're sitting down? What if you've been there for the last eight hours? When does a patron's irritation over some detail become a behavior problem? Some of these examples strike me as especially problematic when you take into consideration a patron's identity. Maybe a young white middle-class couple is just sitting on the front steps to enjoy a beautiful day, but when it's two young black men, it's loitering. Maybe an older, articulate middle-class man becoming irate at the circulation desk can be solved by some smooth-talking from a staff member, but if the man is less articulate and doesn't appear to have bathed recently, security steps in. Clearly-written policies help with this (as Mari and I explored in our workshop), but there is still a lot of gray area that can result in librarians not serving patrons the way they should.

But even in cases where a patron's behavior is clearly inappropriate, there is some question of how best to handle the situation. I'll use bathing in the bathroom sinks as an example. It isn't illegal, it doesn't cause harm to patrons or staff, but librarians across the board seem to agree that we should not allow patrons to do it. As another student pointed out last week, though, where else can the offending patron go? If there are no shelters available and the patron is homeless or otherwise has no access to running water, what else are they expected to do? Just go without bathing until it's their body odor that gets them kicked out of the only place they have left to go? Another one of my discussion group members brought up the idea that a library's responsibility toward its patrons doesn't end at the library's front doors. Perhaps a case can be made that libraries should take a more active role in assuring that their patrons have access to resources outside the library. This might be too much to ask of smaller libraries with barely enough money to keep their own doors open, but in larger or more affluent communities (cough-Ann Arbor-cough), it might be doable.

This is an odd sort of thing to be thinking about a semester and a half into my MLIS. We spend so much time coming up with ways to get people to go to the library, and now we have to come up with ways to keep them out. Certainly it doesn't do anyone any good to have drug deals going on in the bathrooms, but I wonder if we're falling too much into the mindset that there are unwanted kinds of people rather than unwanted behaviors. I worry that in trying to make the library a better, safer place for everyone, we accidentally exclude the same people who have always been excluded.

Reflection on Reading, 27 March

This week, we read (links require U of M log in):

• “The Embedded Librarian Online or Face-to-Face: American University’s Experiences” by Matos, Matsuoka-Motley, and Mayer
• “Effective Teaching: Examples in History, Mathematics, and Science” from How People Learn
• “Online Webinars! Interactive Learning Where Our Users Are: The Future of Embedded Librarianship” by Montgomery

These readings concerned embedded librarianship, subject-based teaching methods, and the virtues of webinars.

The most interesting discussion was that of what makes embedded librarianship different from a librarian that acts as a liaison to a particular department from within the library. The article touched on issues of physical proximity, casual contact with students and faculty, and using virtual tools to bridge the physical gap if the librarian can't be physically within the department. All of this made me think about SI's own librarian and my experiences (or lack thereof) with her. I haven't gone to her for help yet - I'm one of those frustrating patrons that asks the normal reference staff - and I don't know if that would change if I just ran into her more or felt that she was more accessible. But I also remembered hearing that the emails she sends announcing her office hours tend to generate a lot of emailed reference questions. It might be that, in the case of Information Science, it is better to be virtually available than physically nearby. 

The chapter in How People Learn discussed the necessity for teachers to have both knowledge of the subject they teach and pedagogical knowledge, which in this context is an argument for embedded librarians and subject specialists who are both knowledgeable in their area and in librarianship. This is another example of librarians who don't fit into the concept of librarian-as-support-staff. If it's true that subject knowledge is not enough on its own to make a good teacher, then it should be equally true that in order to make the best use of the library, it is necessary to have someone who can combine knowledge of the subject area with knowledge of information service. I should probably remember that next time I have a library-related reference question. 

The last article was a short one extolling webinars as "the future of embedded librarianship." I don't know how true that is, since "webinar" is not the sexiest of terms and might not appeal too much to college students. But the author is right in saying that virtual reference and instruction are where librarianship, especially, I think, academic librarianship is headed.
I also think that continuing to ask ourselves how we can handle the transition to this new internet thing is not a constructive way to approach the topic. Librarians are making this way too complicated, and they're setting themselves apart from their students in the process. Many college students are not new to the internet. We have been online since we were little kids - it's as natural to us as the "real" world is. By continuing to treat the internet like some new unexplored frontier, you're dating yourselves and undermining your own credibility. All you really have to do is use the internet to present information in a way that feels natural and familiar. Trust your instincts.
Also, keep in mind that for many new college students, the internet is not the unfamiliar environment - the library is. By making as many of your resources virtual as you can, you're removing some of the cognitive barriers that prevent students from using the library. You're making it more familiar, not less.

- K

Reflection on Class, 20 March

Presenting a workshop during our last class was a strange experiment. In terms of tone, it felt a lot like a normal student-led discussion. Where it differed, though, was in terms of the content and each participant's relationship to it. My partner and I were in a position of teaching, and the rest of the group was in a position of learning (during our turn, at least). What was strange about that, though, was that I didn't feel that I had the authority to be teaching our topic. I understand that this was an exercise in the methods of conducting a workshop, but it still made me wonder about how the responsibilities of presenting a workshop compare with the responsibilities of teaching in a classroom setting.
There are obvious ways in which classroom teaching is different from library-based workshops. Workshops are usually intended for patrons older than grade school-age, for one thing. For another thing, they're not mandatory. Patrons attend workshops because they want to for whatever reason, be it to learn a skill, improve their careers (or begin them), or just because they want to learn something new. But they don't have to attend, and they don't have to stay if they do come. So it is important to present a workshop that is interesting more so than it is important to teach an interesting class. And it might be that workshops and classes have to be interesting in different ways. Entertaining vs interesting, maybe? I'm reminded of the spinach sundae analogy, but perhaps the opposite - fruit sorbet? Tasty and good for you? That's the goal for any teacher, of course, but most teachers don't have to worry too much about their students leaving in the middle of class if they miss the mark.
A lot of what it means to present a good workshop probably depends on the audience. A room full of working parents eager to get home and have dinner with their children may be similar in some ways to a room full of jaded graduate students who feel there are better uses for their time, but the two groups will probably respond well to different techniques. The sophistication of instruction may vary depending on the group, as well. The more they know about a topic, the more the presenter needs to know in order to make the workshop worth everyone's time.
That brings me back to my main concern for this and future workshops: am I qualified? My partner and I tried, for this workshop, to base everything we said on materials from reputable sources, but at some times it still felt like preaching to the choir. Obviously, if you're presenting a topic on which you aren't an expert, it is important to do enough research to at least be competent. That only goes so far, though. An expert is an expert because they have done the work required to achieve mastery of a subject, and that can't happen in a night-before crash course. Anyway, people can tell when you don't know what you're talking about or when you haven't prepared enough. But what if the topic is important - patrons have been requesting it or the library feels that it must address the topic - and you can't access a real expert? I wouldn't be surprised to learn that this situation occurs often in small or very under-funded libraries. I guess you just have to make do, then.
It has been great to learn and think about this aspect of librarianship, since I'm sure many of us will have to come up with answers to all of these questions before too long.

- K

Reflection on Class, 13 March

In last week's class, we discussed the ALA Code of Ethics. The discussion went somewhat differently than I had expected; another course I have taken featured a discussion of the Code, but that discussion didn't go much deeper than to apply the Code to various realistic scenarios in order to judge the best response. That's completely valid, of course, and a good way to teach what librarians are expected to do by many others in the profession. But I enjoyed the fact that we had a less clean and clear-cut conversation this time.
As some of my classmates have pointed out, a discussion about that ALA Code of Ethics should take into account that it is not binding. You can't be disbarred from librarianship for allowing a book to be banned. The ramifications for breaching the Code are social and informal, though they still may have a negative impact on a librarian's career or social life. Some librarians may chafe at that - why should they be held by a set of ideals that isn't even imposed by their profession itself, but by a particular organization within that profession? You could say that the concept of librarianship encompasses certain ideals (intellectual freedom, access to information, public service), but that's difficult to argue. When I Google "librarian definition", I get: a person, typically with a degree in library science, who administers or assists in a library. The same process with "library" gives me: a building or room containing collections of books, periodicals, and sometimes films and recorded music for people to read, borrow, or refer to. What in those definitions leads to valuing the protection of users' privacy? The Code of Ethics is a result, then, of years of the collection of individual perspectives on what it means to be a librarian.
For the record, I personally do believe in the ideals set forth in the Code, and I think that they are an excellent set of guidelines for information professionals. But I'm also a person who already believes that censorship, withholding information, and violation of privacy are morally reprehensible in most cases. If faced with a patron who wants to challenge a book or just wants me to pull it from the shelf, I like to think that I would fight against it regardless of the situation. But as we heard in class, not everyone agrees with me there. And it's not as if you have to reject the Code of Ethics entirely in order to think that it's better to judge situations individually. That's a problem with any ethical system; like I said in my last post, it all comes down to intuition.
There's also, like always, the problem of other people. What do you do when you, the perfect champion of intellectual freedom, comes up against someone who doesn't think books about "the homosexual lifestyle" belong in a public library? You can't just hand them the Code of Ethics (what do they care what some fancy organization thinks about it?), and if you're me, you can't tell them what you really think. You can politely tell them about the challenge policy, making it sound as unappealing as possible, and leave it at that, but you're unlikely to appease that patron. I honestly don't know what the answer is, here. Me-me thinks that the library is better off without people like that, but librarian-me wants the library to be as inclusive as possible, even to people I don't particularly like.
Codes of behavior can create some issues, like the ones above. The ways in which they are followed or not followed and the way they interact with other morals and norms can lead to internal and external conflicts. I suppose the best thing to do is to decide if they code you're following solves more problems than it creates.

- K

Reflection on Reading, 13 March 2014

The reading for this week was

• "Dangerous Questions at the Reference Desk: A Virtue Ethics Approach" by Mark Lenker

And here I'd thought I'd never read another philosophy article. While I admit that I don't remember much from my undergrad ethics class, I did minor in philosophy, so this week's reading was a pleasant surprise. 

I began this reading skeptical of the possibility of applying a theoretical ethical system like virtue ethics to a real-life problem like reference service. I mean, that's what you're supposed to do with ethical systems, but I'm not sure it usually works out well. As I read the article, my skepticism was confirmed. Assuming that Lenker's definition of virtue ethics matches what is commonly accepted, the application of it doesn't actually simplify or clarify the moral ambiguity of "dangerous" reference questions. 

For one thing, it seems to me that a judgment of what kind of a person the librarian would be if s/he does x or y is already an implicit factor in that librarian's decisions. It is my experience that people put a lot of thought into how their actions reflect on them. But if we set that aside and assume that the librarian is considering virtues for the first time, we are still left with what is basically an ad hoc application of positive and negative adjectives. Lenker calls unquestioningly providing potentially dangerous information "mindless." Someone else may call it "dutiful" or "good-willed." How do you decide what word fits?

It comes down to intuition. Almost every decision can be characterized in multiple ways. We choose the word that seems to fit the best, right? We choose the word that feels right. That's why a librarian who unquestioningly provides information on how to build an explosive is acting mindlessly, while a librarian who without question gives a young girl information on how to obtain an abortion without her abusive father finding out is acting dutifully or professionally. (To my mind, anyway. But isn't that the point?)

Every individual librarian has to make these decisions for him/herself, often on the fly, often without any preparation. We can talk about ethical systems all we want, but in the moment when someone really does ask for information on suicide, we go with what feels right. Ethicists argue that such ill-considered decisions will be poorly made, but I don't think that attempting to formalize them helps. It's all intuition, even if we're just talking about choosing an ethical system to begin with. Me, I'm a Utilitarian. 

- K

Reflection on Class, February 27

I'll try to conjure up some memories of our book groups two weeks (and one very long spring break) ago.
I suppose what always strikes me about discussing literature is how, when you're listening to a group of people talk, you formulate ideas and thoughts without any real effort. As is evident from my last blog post, I didn't have a lot to say about most of the readings chosen by the rest of my group. I'm not the biggest fan of fairy tales, and this batch of them felt tiresome, expected in the worst way. I didn't want to talk about them at all.
But during the discussion, hearing other people discussing the stories made them more interesting to talk about - not surprising. That's why we have book groups to begin with, right? I'm not sure if it's wanting to participate in the discussion that makes the literature more interesting or if it's hearing other people's ideas and coming to understand a work in a new way as a result. It's probably both. In any case, this class really made me miss being an English major.
Something that surprised me was that there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to which of our questions to the group went over well and which didn't. Some of the questions that seemed creative or insightful were met with total silence, while questions that I had thought of mainly as segues sparked the best discussions. I would be interested to repeat this reading ("The Man Who Built Catan", a nonfiction piece about the creator of the game Settlers of Catan) with a different group to see if they respond in similar ways.
On a professional level, this was one of the few exercises I have done that I feel I can translate easily into my anticipated career. So there's that.

Reading, February 27

This week, I'm lucky enough to be reading several short stories and essays:

• "The Duration of Life" by the Brothers Grimm
• "Parrot Land" from The Brazilian Fairy Book
• "The Fisherman and His Wife" by the Brothers Grimm
• excerpt from "Darkness Too Visible" by Megan Cox Gurdon and "Why the Best Children's Books are Written in Blood" by Sherman Alexie

These are mostly children's stories or are about children's stories, so the differences between them are very interesting. 

The first, "The Duration of Life," is a folk tale about the stages of human life. It is simplistic, but with the ring of truth that folk tales usually have. Being by the Brothers Grimm, it is, of course, dark. The themes seem to revolve around punishment for human greed and knowing when to be happy with what you have. Good lessons for children, I suppose. I expect the discussion about this one to be either very minimal or pretty intense. 

"Parrot Land" felt familiar in the same way that "The Duration of Life" did. It is a frame narrative in which a princess who is apparently friends with a parrot that tells stories is being courted (?) by her evil cousin. The cousin sets up a failed parrot sale outside the princess's home to get her attention, but she asks for the storytelling parrot to distract her. It tells her about a prince who runs a bunch of errands to get his father his sight back and ends up with a shiny sword and a nice horse. I don't have a lot to say about it. Maybe discussion will prove the story to have more depth than what I see now. 

"The Fisherman and His Wife" is about how women are greedy and wrathful and don't know what they want. What else would it be about?

And finally, three cheers for Sherman Alexie. I'm sure this is the popular opinion, but I'm no hipster. The juxtaposition of these two excerpts highlights a lot of issues surrounding writing and librarianship, chief among them that literature is highly personal, and a lot of people feel that their way of thinking about it is the one true way. I can never condone censorship or book-banning (clutching my petticoat as we speak), but I can sympathize with a parent who sees the dark world of contemporary (or any?) teenagers and worries. Thanks to Mollie and Krista, though, for giving us the Alexie piece to calm our nerves. I think I know the direction this discussion will take. 

- K

Reflection on Class, February 20

We discussed book clubs in class on Thursday, and it was one of my favorite discussions so far. That might be because it was one of the few discussions we've had that relates directly to my intended career as a public librarian, or maybe it's because it made me feel like an English major again. In any case, it was nice to talk about something other than teaching.
I especially enjoyed the Socratic seminar in the second half of the class. Actually acting out a book group scenario was helpful for putting our readings into context. The index cards that we used to record our questions, for example, was a good exercise. In this case, only a few people actually read their questions to the group before the conversation hit its stride. In another group or class, though, all of the questions might have been needed.
I also noticed that the discussion felt very much like many of my undergraduate classes, where we sat in a circle around the room with the professor at the front, but we spoke to each other, not just to the professor. In this class, though, even though Kristin was a facilitator and not the leader of the discussion, it still felt like she was the leader. Maybe it would have been different if it had been a student facilitating, or maybe it wouldn't have mattered. I would be interested in how this dynamic would play out in different circumstances.
I am looking forward to seeing how our book groups this week will compare. We covered a lot of guidelines in our discussion last week, but I suspect that it is more or less intuitive in practice. I suppose we'll find out.

Reading, February 20

Our readings for this week were: 

• "The Evolving Book Group" by Beth Dempsey
• "The Book Club Exploded" by Barbara Hoffert
• "Teaching reading: beyond the plot" by Margaret Metzger
• "Socratic Seminars: Engaging Students in Intellectual Discourse" by Lynda Tredway

These readings ran the gamut of comfort for me. The first, which discussed mostly traditional but updated book groups was familiar and made me want to run over to the YDL and join a book club. The second was still about book clubs, but in a more large-scale, technologically savvy way. A little less Jane Austen and a little more Mary Roach, but okay. The last two readings concerned Socratic Seminars, and that's where I disengaged a bit. 

The accounts of various seminars, especially Metzger's first-hand account of seminars in her own classroom, are interesting (and I wish my teachers had had them) but what is the application in a library setting? I can't imagine a group of adults dutifully arranging their chairs in concentric circles to discuss (but only during their turn!) the Game of Thrones series. It's the sort of thing that a free-thinking, progressive teacher does, but that people are just too cool for out in the real world. The Metzger article did have a helpful discussion, though, about the pitfalls of leading a book group - derailing the conversation by accident, influencing the way people are talking in unhelpful ways, and distracting people from talking to one another by forcing them to talk to you. 

I much preferred the "Not Your Ordinary Book Group" discussed in the Dempsey article (no surprise there). That model - monthly meetings supplemented or substituted by online discussion - involved much less stress than the seminar model and even the examples given in the Hoffert article. All of that to-do, the arranging for authors or videoconferences, the ritual of the Socratic seminar seem antithetic to what my idea of a book group has always been: a place to talk intelligently but not pretentiously about a shared experience, which happens to be a book. A place to explore your own mind and get to know your neighbors a little better. Do we really need chair-circles and publisher-sponsored pre-packaged programs for that?

- K

Reflection on reading, February 13

This week's readings were (links require U of M log in):

• "Put Understanding First" by Wiggins and McTighe
• Chapter 3 of How People Learn

The readings for today concerned learning transfer and what teachers can do to assure that students understand material deeply enough to allow for it. Again, I think this is a discussion that fits more neatly into areas of librarianship with a captive audience, such as school and academic libraries. In these environments, students are (in theory) entirely oriented toward learning, so in-depth instruction is expected. In a public library, even if you take the long view of helping patrons to educate themselves, those patrons would need an exceptional level of interest and motivation to engage in learning the way our readings specified.

How much learning is required in order to facilitate transfer? As much as can happen at a one-shot workshop? A screencast? A workshop series? And how much time would patrons have to take out of their lives to engage in that much learning time? I also wonder what level of immersion is necessary. School children and college students are constantly involved with their class work; would a working mother taking one class a week on digital literacy be able to accomplish the same level of understanding, given all the other demands on her attention?

I guess my question really is: how do you teach deep intellectual understanding to someone who only wants a skill or working knowledge?

"Bonus" blogger blog

As an assignment, we were asked to read four bloggers for the past few weeks. Here is the write-up for the assignment.

The Bloggers

Libraries are for Use

• Karen R. Harker, MLS, MPH
• Collection Assessment Librarian, University of North Texas Libraries
• Harker's blog is based on the teachings of S.R. Ranganathan and his book, The 5 Laws of Library Science. Though posts are no longer explicitly about the chapters of the book, Harker includes elements of Ranganathan's teaching in her discussions.
  The main topic of the blog is academic libraries. Posts largely concern developments in the field (published studies, news, etc) with some of Harker's personal experiences mixed in. The tone is friendly and informal, but professional, and the posts tend to be medium-to-long and thorough. This would be a helpful blog for a smart person who isn't very familiar with academic libraries, since it covers a range of issues that concern a university library. 

Swiss Army Librarian

• Brian Herzog, MLIS
• Reference librarian, Chelmsford Public Library
• Herzog's blog revolves around the daily experiences of a reference librarian at a public library, combined with updates on the information field at large. The topic coverage is very broad, but Herzog shows a special interest in digital concerns such as surveillance and copyright. His voice is very personal, so that even posts about national trends or movements are based on a strong point of view and often a strong opinion. Herzog also posts particularly interesting reference transactions. The story of the patron who believed that her computer timing out was the work of the government trying to block her access to certain information was one of the better ones.
  Herzog is an active writer and speaker in the field of public librarianship, and the tone of the blog reflects the mix of his academic background and pursuits with his daily work with the public. 

David Lee King

• Digital Services Director, Topeka & Shawnee County Public Library
• King's blog is similar to Swiss Army Librarian in that it is focused on technology in a public library setting. The blog's tone and voice are also similar, though King takes a strong stance on issues like copyright less often than Herzog. King often discusses content creation and focuses more often on the use of digital hardware (cameras, sound equipment) than does Herzog. He also writes occasionally about makerspaces. The blog is very community-focused, and King is clearly interested in social media and its role in librarianship.
  He is an international speaker with a background in service. 

Tame the Web

• Dr. Michael Stephens
• Assistant Professor, School of Library and Information Science at San Jose State University
• Stephens, like the other bloggers mentioned here, largely writes about technology as it applies to librarianship (in his case, mostly academic librarianship). The technology about which he writes, though, is geared toward higher education. He writes often about MOOCs. Like Libraries are for Use, many of the posts on this blog are announcements and brief discussions of recent reports and other news.
  Stephens's tone is much less personal than Herzog's or King's. While he does discuss his own work, he does not delve much into his personal life or views. 

Analysis

• All of these bloggers were very interested in (surprise!) technology. It was interesting to see, though, how they all discussed technology in different ways. Libraries are for Use was the least tech-oriented, but Harker did cover reports and news that concerned technology and discussed it some in the context of academic libraries. Swiss Army Librarian wrote about technology as it concerns the general public, especially those who visit public libraries. Those posts were on big issues like DMCA and surveillance, which are not only related to libraries. David Lee King was also concerned with technology in public libraries, but he focused much more on content creation, such as videos and podcasts, as well as makerspaces. Tame the Web took a much more academic approach to talking about technology, focusing on its potential as a teaching tool for higher education. 
• I noticed a strong service ethic in all of these blogs. While only Swiss Army Librarian discussed interactions with patrons in the form of reference service, all of the bloggers wrote about their work in terms of making their library (or class) the best it can be for their patrons. They all also expressed a concern with bettering the world at large through information or libraries. 
• My Big Takeaways (TM) from this were:
• There is endless variety in libraries and librarianship, but you pretty much always know when a librarian is speaking. 
• As much as we may complain, our patrons and communities are still the most important things to us (professionally, at least). 
• You can't be a Luddite and a librarian at the same time. 

- K

Reflection on Class, February 6

This class cleared up a lot of my uncertainties from the reading. I hadn't thought of the possibilities for doing long-term teaching in a public library environment, but it does make sense. I still don't like the idea of treating a community of people of various ages the same way in which you'd treat a group of children, but I can see engaging in learner-centered teaching through reference services or a series of workshops or book clubs.

Something from our discussion today that stuck with me was the difference between summative and formative assessment. Kristin mentioned that graduate students tend to see individual grades as reflective of their worth as people (which is absolutely true for me) and, later, that whether assessment is summative or formative is to a degree in the eye of the beholder. That reminded me of the growth/fixed mindset discussion that we had a couple of weeks ago. If a person tends toward a fixed mindset, is all assessment summative to them? Is that something that teachers and other educators should take into account? We've talked about being aware of learners' prior knowledge or cultural context, but I wonder if having an understanding of how hard they are on themselves is on par with those considerations.

- K

P.S. I feel somewhat sheepish for saying this after Kristin made a point of saying that we're all responsible for asking our own questions, but I had no idea what a poster for a conference was supposed to be, either. So thanks, Emily.

Reading, Week 5

This week, we were asked to read:

• chapter 6 of How People Learn
• "The Fundamentals of Formative Assessment" from What Teachers Really Need to Know About Formative Assessment by Greenstein

These readings covered the basics of what formative assessment is - basically, checking in with students' learning in order to tailor lessons to their needs and development - and why it's important. Because it's where I'm headed, I read the chapters through the lens of public librarianship. I have to say, I'm not sure how to two go together. 

Certainly, when doing library-based instruction, it's important to understand patrons' prior knowledge and/or cultural context, something that was covered in the reading. But for the most part, the concepts of formative assessment and learner- and knowledge-centered environments that were discussed seem best suited to the long-term teaching of children. I don't know how well these theories would play out when conducting short-term teaching of adults. 

If a workshop in, say, how to use an e-reader lasts an hour, it would be possible to pause at the half-hour mark to ask the patrons to do a quick exercise to assess their understanding. But how then can the lesson be tailored to help those who need it? Getting to know your students also seems to be a vital component of creating a learner-centered environment, and it would be difficult in the context of teaching a single lesson to a group of busy adults. Or busy college students, for that matter, if you force me to think about academic librarianship. 

I can also see adults not responding well to teaching methods developed for children. Even I bristle a little at the thought of someone conducting something called "formative assessment" on me (even though I'm a student and it happens all the time). 

I'll be interested to see how these concepts play out in class discussion this week. I'm sure Kristin will say something I hadn't thought of, as usual. 

Class Reflection, January 30

We spent a lot of time this week revisiting material that we covered last week, which turned out to be a good thing, since most of us didn't actually know what we were talking about when it came to information literacy and (especially) transliteracy. I'm afraid I still don't know what I'm talking about regarding transliteracy, but I think I'm in good company there.

The most interesting part of class was when Kristen asked us to think about and write down the steps we took to complete our most recent research papers and the emotions we felt at each step. Maybe it's because I just can't stop talking about myself, but I found it illuminating to write down the actual process of what I had done. In case you're curious - as I'm sure you are - here is the unedited list:

stress out
pick topic (relief, uncertainty)
explore topic in general (curiosity)
stress out
search databases (stress)
ask for help (accomplished)
refine database search (confident)
start writing (stressed, a little confident)
search more, scrap some sources (looking for specific info) (increasingly confident)
finish writing (2 days before due) (relieved)

Without thinking much about it, I wrote "stress out" twice as distinct steps in my research and writing process. That's probably due in part to the fact that I could see where the lesson was going (Kulthau's findings about the emotional phases of information seeking), but also because as academics, many of us come to understand not just the intellectual processes of writing, but the emotional ones as well. We know when to allow ourselves to feel overwhelmed and when it's time to overcome those feelings and get to work. We know not to really relax until our projects are finished. 

I think that becoming a librarian, someone who helps others with these processes, requires formalizing that innate knowledge. It's a recognition and codification of what has become familiar over time. 

Writing this, I think about teaching my fiance how to cook. I have to remember what used to be new to me, the mistakes I made, and recognize the little things (where the oven rack goes, how to tell if you've set a burner too high) that I can now do without thinking. And this teaching happens as I'm still learning. It seems like teaching another person to learn or to seek information might be a similar balance of recognizing what you don't know and passing on what you do. 

Reflection on Class, January 23

This class left me wondering about information literacy. As part of an in-class exercise, Kristen read aloud a story about a moviegoer at an AMC theater in Ohio who was detained and questioned by Homeland Security ICE because he had worn his Google Glass, fitted with prescription lenses, to a showing of Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (of all things). We began discussing the story, and after a while Kristen put forth the possibility that the story might not be completely true. Of course, everyone who had accepted the story five minutes ago now pointed out all of the aspects of it that seemed "off" or "fishy." We, information professionals, had been tricked into forgetting to be information literate.

The thing is, at this point (and at the time of the discussion), it seems much more likely that the story is true than false. Here's the story from the Columbia Dispatch. Here it is from Time. An extended interview with the victim from TechCrunch. The Examiner. Business Insider. NBC News, PCWorld, and the Associated Press. Just for good measure, here's AMC's confirmation of the event from Twitter.

Of course, it wouldn't be the first time that news media was fooled, and it is worth pointing out that the news reports are all a little different, and the only detailed report of the incident still comes from the man who was questioned. But some of the "fishy" elements of the story (Homeland Security's involvement, the presence of the MPAA, the fact that the man had prescription lenses in his Glass) are the things on which every one of the news reports agrees. All of the reports I included above were published before our class on the 23rd.

So we, the students, were right the first time. But does that mean that we exercised our information literacy? Short of witnessing an event ourselves, the only way we ever receive information is through trusted sources, and that's exactly what we did in class by listening to Kristen. Was it just luck that the story (as of right now) appears to be real?

I think that it is as tempting to be too skeptical as it is to believe unquestioningly. By using skepticism, cynicism, or just disinterest to hold ourselves back from believing in or engaging with something, we save ourselves the embarrassment of looking foolish later. We also miss opportunities, not to mention vital information about the world around us.

But then what does it mean to be information literate? Maybe it's walking the line between unquestioning belief and refusal to actually believe anything.

- K

Some stuff from class today

* Image: Fry from Futurama with squinty eyes. 

Text reads: Not sure if teaching transliteracy or just messing with 3D printer.

Librarian runs up to officer. 

Librarian: Constable! My house is full of zombies!

Officer: Well, ma'am, you know how to use a crossbow?

Librarian: (pointing) If it's anything like a hot glue gun, I'll have the neighborhood clear in an hour.

Canva tutorial

I've created a screencast tutorial of the basics of using Canva. You can find the screencast here and the transcript here.

Readings, Week 3

For this week's assignment, I read (links require UM login):

• "Navigating the News" by Denise Koray, American Libraries, Nov. 2013
• "Not Just Literate, But Transliterate: Encouraging Transliteracy Adoption In Library Services" by Nancy Trimm, Colorado Libraries, Oct. 2011
• "Fabricating a Fabulous Home for Cocreation" by Lauren Britton and Sue Considine, Library Journal, Oct. 2012

Though I started my search intending to find one article each about information literacy, information fluency, and transliteracy, I ended up with two articles about transliteracy and one about information literacy. 

I'll discuss first the Koray article, which concerned information literacy; more specifically, it was about high-school students learning about media literacy through analyzing the truthfulness of various news media sources. I don't think that news media is the first thing to come to mind when we discuss information literacy. After all, newspapers and television news have been around for a long time, and information literacy is an idea that I usually associate with online databases or the Web in general. However, librarian Erik Berman points out in the article that the lessons students learn from studying news media tie in with information literacy as a whole. "The role of libraries in the digital future is not just finding information," he says, "but how to know in a limited time if you can trust a source and know that the information you are receiving is credible." This is an important skill for library patrons (and librarians) to learn as more and more information exists outside of sources vetted by librarians, publishers, or vendors. Teaching information literacy of this kind empowers patrons to look for information on their own - because a lot of what's out there on the internet is worth investigating - while being confident in their ability to tell the good from the bad.

The remaining two articles concerned transliteracy, the first as an overview of developing and teaching transliteracy in a library environment and the second related to transliteracy as embodied in one particular makerspace. From these articles, it is apparent to me that transliteracy is more important now than it ever has been, but that American culture, especially, increasingly takes it for granted. I think that transliteracy is inherent in the concept of "digital natives," those of us who grew up using computers and who adapt more easily to new technologies and tech-centered culture. The problem is that people are expected to be comfortable in a digital environment when they have not yet developed the skills and understanding necessary. Such cases illustrate the need for libraries, which in theory are safe and educational spaces, to teach transliteracy skills to ensure that people not only catch up with current technology, but are ready for the next thing when it comes. 

The Britton and Considine article is an example of that sort of teaching in a less digital-specific context. Though the particular makerspace in this article uses digital fabrication (a 3D printer), the article stresses that book-making, robot-building, and similar activities also teach similar skills. According to the article, the Fab Lab caused some growing pains in the library and its community as people adjusted to the necessity of learning transliteracy skills, but it has been a success overall. In a digital world, creativity and exploration are important, and a makerspace like the Fab Lab is a great way to instill those values in the community. 

K

Reflection on Class, January 16

Discussion this week focused on methods of teaching and learning and how those practices transfer (or maybe don't transfer) to a digital environment.
One aspect of that discussion that was interesting to me was thinking about the different ways that people organize information as they learn, sort of a cognitive infrastructure. When Kristin drew a "mind-map" on the board, at first I had no idea what she was talking about, but then I had a vague memory of using diagrams like that in grade school. I suppose that I had forgotten all about them because to me, a list broken up into categories is a much more intuitive way of organizing information to make it manageable. Mind-maps and flow charts feel cluttered to me, but I can see how to someone else a list wouldn't be effective in making connections between ideas. All of this carried over into the exercise in which we had to try to explain a database to an eighth-grader. Filing cabinets and notebooks were good analogies, but it was clear to me that a music library like iTunes or Spotify was better suited to the audience in question. A learner-centered approach really does seem to make all the difference in teaching.
It's easy to see, then, that online learning may present a greater challenge than expected. How do you make material learner-centered when you don't know who the learner is? It would be a bigger problem for public libraries than for academic or school libraries simply because they cater to a wider and more diverse population. A solution may be to survey potential participants beforehand or to pay attention to use statistics for different relevant library services. But for a one-shot workshop (or screencast), that may be all the librarian can do, aside from just trying to incorporate as many learning styles or needs as possible into the one lesson.
If the question is, "should online learning replace face-to-face workshops?," I think the answer is no, absolutely not. Screencasts and other online learning models are great, and they should certainly be developed to be even better. But there are still plenty of people, especially if we're talking about public libraries, that are much more comfortable in a face-to-face environment or who don't have access to digital resources. Those people shouldn't be forced to learn in a way that doesn't work for them. It's also worth repeating that there are kinds of workshops that are not well-suited for a digital environment, regardless of who the audience is. Like a lot of issues in librarianship, it seems, the answer is to do our best to keep up with the new without abandoning the old.

K

Reading, Week Two

This week's reading assignment included:

• The introduction and first chapter of Creating the One-shot Library Workshop: A Step-by-step Guide by Jerilyn R. Veldof
• "Best Practices for Online Video Tutorials in Academic Libraries: A Study of Student Preferences and Understanding" by Melissa Bowles-Terry, et. al.
• "Building Pathfinders with Free Screen Capture Tools" by Patrick Griffis

The excerpt from Creating the One-shot Library Workshop concerned a process for creating workshops that Veldof refers to as "ADDIE" (analysis, design, development, implementation, evaluation). The ADDIE system, like a lot of similar methods, is interesting because it formalizes an already-intuitive process. Or maybe it just seems intuitive to me because I took SI501. In any case, the steps are simple enough: analyze the need that the course will fulfill, figure out the material that will be taught, create the class itself, teach the class, and see how well it worked.

The "Best Practices" article, which outlined a survey of students who were asked to view how-to videos through a library's website, did not seem to reflect the ADDIE system. That's not to say that ADDIE or a similar system was not used when the video tutorials were being made, but this particular study would be an example of only the "evaluate" part of the process. Even then, the students who watched the videos were participating for the purpose of facilitating the evaluation of the videos, not because they had a particular need for which they sought out the tutorials.

The "Building Pathfinders" article, though, fits well into the ADDIE model, specifically in the design or development phases. After analyzing the audience for and purpose of an online course, a librarian would have to choose a particular platform, and this article provided several good suggestions.

We were also asked this week to consider what skills would or would not be well-suited for an online tutorial and whether the methods discussed in the readings were problematic from an accessibility standpoint. I think that online tutorials work best for straightforward skills - reading call numbers, for example, or using the online catalog to find a book by author or title. Skills that require more time, interaction with the teacher, or which are likely to require a teacher to answer questions from students may be better suited for in-person courses. This might include classes on preparing for an interview, classes focusing on literacy, or classes directed at students who are uncomfortable with technology.

As far as accessibility is concerned, I have to admit that I don't know very much about assistive technology and its limitations. Videos that rely on visual elements (titles that aren't read aloud or demonstrations in which the teacher does not narrate what she is doing, etc) could be problematic. And of course, assuming that those who would benefit from the course have access to the necessary technology would also be a problem. Accessibility is something I look forward to learning more about.

Reflection on Class, January 9

Well, I should have taken better notes. I always tell myself that I will remember what happens in class, but that is rarely the case. Unfortunately, I'll have to make do this time with faulty memory.

Something that struck me was how similar and how different all of our experiences with education turned out to be. Hippie schools, public schools, the right or wrong way to do research - it's astounding that we have all arrived at this course with such different perspectives. I'll just say it: I still don't know if I do research (or what passes for it in English Literature) the correct way. I never learned how. To this day, I do what I think the professor wants, turn it in, and cross my fingers. I've never been corrected, so I guess I've got the hang of it? I should probably figure this out if I'm going to be a librarian when I grow up.

The other thing that I have managed to remember was the brief discussion of what it means to be in a service profession. I have done service work my whole life, from a string of awful retail jobs to a short stint in food service (I wanted to be a chef at one point) to my current job in library circulation. It's all service, but libraries feel different. As a worker, I feel that I retain more of my dignity as a person when I work in a library as opposed to a department store. As a student of the profession, it is apparent that the reason for that is that in retail, the worker really serves the company. She serves money, and every interaction with a customer is reflective of that fact. In a library setting, the worker (whether a librarian, paraprofessional, or student employee) serves the best interest of the patron and of the community. That difference is why, though I would never consider a life-long career in retail, I am spending a lot of money and two years of my time on learning to be a good librarian.

Hopefully I still feel that way in three years when I'm a part-time librarian with enormous monthly loan payments to make.

- K

Week One

The assignment for this initial post was to read/watch and consider:

• Chapters 1 & 2 of How People Learn
• ALA's Core Competences
• Josh Hanagarne's closing keynote speech from Internet Librarian 2013

That's a lot to consider (and the material feels somewhat disjointed), so I'll just go in order.

Of the two chapters of How People Learn, I have the most to say about the first. Like a lot of prescriptive writing about education, this chapter seemed to hold up the current common teaching model as flawed and in need of revision. I won't argue with that. My own experience fits well within the "Teacher A" mode of education - concern with the end product and making sure that students have the opportunity to learn, while punishing them if they do not take that opportunity. A few particular teachers went out of their way to engage students and create an environment that encouraged learning in a positive way, but they were exceptions. They were also often teachers in "gifted" or Advanced Placement classes. Doesn't this seem backward? It has been my experience that students in classes where teachers provide sufficient motivation and means for learning have already proven themselves capable of learning under more difficult circumstances, while the students who need the most help and attention from teachers often receive the least because they cannot advance past general or even remedial classes.

The problem becomes more pronounced as students grow older. I personally had the privilege of earning my bachelor's degree at a school where I was never in a class of more than thirty people, and almost every class was discussion-based. But having attended a semester of lectures here at the University of Michigan, I wonder how freshmen undergraduates manage to learn anything at all. The idea seems to be that as a student grows, she can be more responsible for her own learning. But what if she is learning something completely new, as we are all supposed to do in college? Does the learner of a new subject require the same kind of teaching as a young grade school student, for whom everything is new? Or is it the case that she has developed sufficient metacognitive abilities to be in control of her own learning by the time she reaches college? 

Of course, there are plenty of reasons why, while everyone understands that American education needs to change, few changes are apparently being made. Class size is a big one. Thirty students might not be a lot for a college class, but it is a lot for a grade school teacher to handle, and it's a common class size. With that many students, it may not be possible for teachers to give individual students the kind of attention recommended by the text. The imposition of standardized tests is another factor. The book acknowledges that the focus of these tests must change from breadth-based to depth-based, but until that happens, teachers are forced to keep teaching breadth over depth. It's also worth noting that while educational advancement (placement in advanced classes, college admission, etc) depend on grades, students will not be willing to risk lowering their grade point average by taking risks, even if it means that they will learn more. I would be interested in hearing about a school that successfully uses a "Teacher C" approach.

I found the ALA Core Competences and the Josh Hanagarne keynote to be interesting when considered together. Hanagarne is a clearly inspiring person, and he seems to be the model of what a librarian should be: determined, kind, intelligent, and passionate about libraries. He also, like many librarians and information professionals who fit that description, is completely dismissive of library school, saying that the best part of his experience there was a hamburger. Though I don't know anything about the quality of his day-to-day work at his own library, I doubt that he fails to meet the ALA Competences that are supposed to be the result of attending an ALA-accredited program. Does that mean that he and other librarians like him underestimate the importance of their education, or does it mean that formal education is not the only (or even best) way of becoming competent in librarianship? 

Before watching the speech, I thought about what makes someone a librarian and came up with this: "A librarian is someone educated in order to provide the best information service to her community within a library setting." I still think that is the case, but I wonder if it is necessarily so.