an experiment in professionalism
After my last post, and with a bunch of the other stuff I’ve written about librarian ethics and professionalism, I thought I ought to mention one of the things I’m hoping to accomplish with my blogging.
While, yes, I’m full of opinions and the hubris required to think that other people should waste precious minutes of their time reading them, I am also very much trying to live the sort of changes I’d like to see in our profession.
What I mean by this is: I am a human being. I am also a librarian. My being a ‘professional’ librarian means that my experiences will be rife with flaws, failures, successes, and, hopefully, triumphs. I’m also a librarian very much at the beginning of my career. This means there is a lot of stuff I don’t know. A lot of stuff I’m learning. I want, as human being, the opportunities to grow and develop as a professional without feeling like I need to be perfect right now. Like I’m somehow a failure for not meeting some of the ridiculous requirements many jobs want for entry level positions that I ought to be qualified for, but never quite am.
A human being who can and is critical about something I enjoy (ie, digital preservation, access to information, free/open software, etc.) because I want to make it as great as it can possibly be. A person who, yes, has biases and tunnel vision and feelings. A person with a past that has influenced my present and informs my future.
I’m not very interested in being or appearing ‘professional’ if it means that I have to leave my humanity behind. Not when I’ve spent far too much of my time seeking general recognition of my humanity (a work still very much in progress).
So. This blog. And my approach to blogging (and other social media) is an expirement. I want to see if I can actually craft a career I feel is worth having. By being honest, open, and vulnerable in ways that are very much discouraged by most of the advice I’ve seen.1
My more pessimistic side, and the experiences of some people in the field (notably the Library Loon) tells me that I’m probably doomed to fail. I’m okay with this. Mostly because burning bridges is one of the things I do best. ↩