Tag: information studies

  • “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch”: An Accidental Unwinding

    A Response to College and Research Libraries (C&RL) New’s latest post, “Librarians and Degree Seeking: The “Paper Ceiling” and Advancement in Academic Libraries”, a conversation between Nancy Shore, Kristina Clement, and Katherine Rose Adams

    During my last session, my therapist suggested I write a response, my own little Op-Ed, to the conversation circulated earlier this month. Not necessarily to publish or share with anyone. Writing is one (of the few ways) that significantly helps me process, reflect, and attempt to understand emotions, accounts, triggers, and encounters I struggle to verbalize. My therapist felt this practice may help me work through my intensely trauma response to the “Librarians and Degree Seeking” post which I read the morning of June 10th.

    A link to this post dropped into my Outlook while I sat in my very college town feel coffee shop and edited my summer course. I made it through the first exchange between the three authors. I could not keep reading. I felt numb, and, then quickly, I dissociated. Fully plunged back into experiences from my doctoral program. I spent my therapy session (thankfully) the next day unpacking how I relived my doctoral years so vividly and excruciatingly – all through that Monday, into the sleepless night, and bursting into Tuesday’s session. I did not (still do not) understand what these academics could discuss so brightly, enthusiastically, and almost flippantly what, in so many ways, shattered me.

    My doctoral experience appears distinctly different from those of the authors. I pursued a PhD because of the focus on deep research, writing, my need to feel as though I am contributing to something, and the lifelong pressing expectation for me to excel. I only worked in academic libraries, briefly, as an intern during my MLIS program. I had no interest (still have no interest at all) in ‘climbing the ladder’, becoming a dean, taking on any fully administrative position. Those roles would only take me away from the research, writing, and teaching thrive on. I am going up for tenure this fall, but even with that I took a year extension due my lengthy recovery from COVID.

    My actual degree, the nitty-gritties of my PhD program, and my relationship with doctoral life sharply differ from the EdD, asynchronous program the authors worked through. I left public librarianship to become a full time, funded PhD student in an information school at a large university from August 2012 until April 2016. I relocated to be near the university. I worked 20+ hours weekly for my teaching assistant, then a research assistantship, and, finally, lead instructor stipend. I spent my first two years of the program taking in-person seminar courses. I read and discussed and learned and engaged in research with faculty and independently. A very traditional PhD route. Not accessible to everyone. My lack of a partner or kids. My supportive family, the financial support through my doctoral program (Well. For the most part.) are privileges I fully recognize. I am often asked (not sure why) if I would do the PhD program over again. My answer is the same as when I graduated in 2016. A long pause, weighty inhale and exhale, and “I don’t know.”

    There are a number of specific quotes from the authors that did not anger me as much undid what had, while not exactly healed, been decently processed. I will highlight a few to shake them from my own rumination. Or attempt to do so.

    I knew graduate school at this level would be a lot of work, but I didn’t want doctoral studies to take up all my time.” ~ Nancy Shore

    The author. Art Institute of Chicago. Mid-PhD program.

    The doctoral program became my entire life. Academia and our mentors, not just the doctoral program, encouraged us to never stop working. I wrote and graded and read and took notes and coded nights, weekends, and holidays. Switching work off felt like a failure. If you aren’t working, thinking about work, or explaining apologetically what has taken you away from work, shouldn’t you be? I identified as a doctoral student, a doctoral candidate, and, eventually, an official Doctor, wearing regalia and freshly hooded at graduation that sweltering spring in 2016. A post-doctoral and tenure-track faculty position later yet I cannot stop the impulse to fill every hour of the waking day with a task that will get me closer to something. A grant proposal, an almost finished manuscript, a service opportunity that will look good as a line on my CV, whatever will show that I am worth something to an institution that does not feel or care or remember you.

    My theory is that if you’re going to get a “free” degree, it might as well be a big one!” ~ Nancy Shore

    I’m a blue collar, trailer park, scrappy kid from Southwest Georgia. The quote, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.”, is very familiar to me. It’s almost laughable to think otherwise. You will pay in one way or the other. Maybe those from middle class and upper middle-class backgrounds believe in “free”, but I know better. I exchanged my sanity, any sense of self-worth I once possessed, and my physical health for my PhD. I reverted to unhealthy habits I learned as an undergrad to feel some ounce of control amidst the constant criticism, ableism, classism, sexual harassment, victim blaming, self-loathing, and fear. I graduated from the program numb, broken, and so very, very bitter. I gave everything I could. I received that fucking piece of paper in the mail, and I still felt like a failure. It is still in that envelope, next to other paperwork in my hallway closet.

    “Wait . . . maybe we should end our discussion here as I do not want to create any more competition!”~ Katherine Rose Adams

    Create any more competition? The competition is always present. I wrote about it in this very column last September with a former MLIS student and dear friend. I am not a competitive person, but the system will push you to engage in a battle for funding, recognition, tenure, or, the ever so rare, praise. Who you are competing against does not matter as much as how much you push yourself. You compete with yourself, other doctoral students, colleagues, others in your area of expertise, et al. Give me a minute, and I can spot competition, perhaps slyly concealed as a collegial discussion or constructive ‘feedback’.

    This is not intended to be combative, critical, or dismissive. This is just for me. To get out of my head and feel real. Somehow I felt that my doctoral program experience was discounted. Was it all in my head? Despite conducted research with LIS PhD students on their experiences (bleak), and all the (anecdotal) conversations I’ve had over the years with dear friends who shared similar experiences at other institutions. Still, I questioned myself and judged my sense of reality, even in my therapy session, “Did all that actually happen to me? Why does this post dig into me so uniquely and excruciatingly?”. Again, I don’t know. But I keep trying to find a new way through the wreckage.

    Abigail L. Phillips, MLIS, SLIS, PhD

    Shore, N., Clement, K., & Adams, K. (June 2024). Librarians and degree seeking: The “Paper Ceiling” and advancement in academic libraries. College & Research Libraries News, 85(6), 263. doi:https://doi.org/10.5860/crln.85.6.263

    The saying, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch”, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”, or the initialism TANSTAAFL is attributed to Robert A. Heinlein’s sci-fi novel “The Moon is a Harsh Mistress“. I read that book in high school, but I remember hearing this quote randomly, outside of reading. It has been used by others including economists. Naturally. TIL.

  • Not Sure Where to Go From Here…

    Not Sure Where to Go From Here…

    On April 30, 2016, I graduated with my Ph.D. in Information Studies from the School of Information at Florida State University. What a confusing series of emotions I went through on that day – from anger, sadness, happiness, and dread. It has taken me several weeks to process what “graduating” REALLY means and what it means for me. After being a doctoral student for four years, a Master’s and Specialist student for four, and an undergrad for four, I’m not sure what a school-free life should be like. Should I have more time to do non-school related stuff? How do I do that without feeling guilty that I’m not working on schoolwork? Should I be working overtime to turn all my dissertation work into more publications, conference proposals, and posters? Unfortunately, I’m very tired right now. It’s challenging to find the motivation to do any work, if I’m honest. I don’t know if this is the norm or depression or what, but I’m feel drained thinking about my dissertation. The last thing I want to do is revisit it. At least right now.

    I doesn’t help that everything is in limbo as far as my job search is concerned. I have a few possible post-docs, nothing faculty tenure track, and nothing from the professional librarian world. In many ways, I still feel my Ph.D. does me a disservice in searching for librarian positions whether academic or public. Maybe I’ve super educated myself to the point where people assume I’m overqualified for so many jobs. I’ve written about this in a post for Letters to a Young Librarian awhile back. And I still have many of the same concerns. Will library directors assume when they look at my resume that I will demand more money because of my Ph.D.? ( Not the case.) Will they overlook me because they’re concerned I’ll become bored in the job and quit after a year or two? (Doubtful.) I’m still wondering over these questions. Still haven’t had heard much back from the academic and public library jobs I’ve applied to since defending my dissertation. The LIS faculty job market is so bleak right now (particularly in my area of research) that I’ve almost entirely given up on that path.

    The library job market is tight right now. At least that’s the impression I get. So much competition, and so many older librarians not retiring. Remember back in 2006 (when I was a very eager MLIS student) when all the librarians I knew kept saying that there would be lots of opening for new librarians coming soon? That there would be a wave of librarians retiring once I graduated. And then the recession hit and that didn’t turn out to be the case.

    I also keep asking myself would I be happy working back in the library. I think I would. I love research, but I have enough confidence in myself to know that I can find some way to incorporate research into my potential return to professional librarian life. I do very, very much miss working in the library, especially with teens. I’ve probably mentioned this a few times on this blog. Social media has played a hand in making me miss the library. Reading tweets, tumbles, and Facebook updates has made me more than a little jealous of those who are actually practicing in the library work. This work has its own share of issues, frustrations, and upsets, but I believe that I was contributing to something and really helping people.

    I’m also unsure what direction this blog should take. Now that I’ve slugging my way through a Ph.D., what should be the focus of my blog? Since I started it as a doctoral student, my posts have been about academia, research, presenting, and my struggles to overcome my insecurities as an academic. I think I would like to talk more about libraries, librarianship, and all the interesting and confusing aspects of our field. That would give me a whole bunch of stuff I could rant/talk about!

    Side note: I STILL don’t know what to say to people who ask me if they should go for a Ph.D. Or if it was all worth it. So far my response is, “Ummm.”Ask me again in a couple of years.

  • The Impact of Our Work on Ourselves

    The Impact of Our Work on Ourselves

    While interviewing rural librarians and young adults for my dissertation over last summer, I had the most surprising conversation with one high school librarian. We’ll call her Mary to maintain confidentiality. Our interview turned to the topic of how our work with patrons has an impact on us. Being from the South, Mary had been raised in a conservative, Southern Baptist church for the majority of her life. While in this church, she had been taught a harsh and judgmental perspective regarding sexuality, gender identity, and non-traditional lifestyles. When Mary began working teens in a high school library, she carried these views and assumptions with her. However, as she started engaging more and more with her young patrons, Mary saw her views begin to change in major ways.

    During the interview, Mary explained that she saw herself becoming more accepting and welcoming of those who lived and loved differently than she did. By interacting with her gay and transgendered high school patrons, she realized that the church that she had been a member of was flawed and destructive. Eventually, Mary broke away from this church and now sees herself as happier because of it. This turned into a very inspirational moment for me. Having also been raised in a Southern Baptist church, I knew exactly the type of mentality that exists in these churches and how challenging it can be, for some, to separate from church teachings. It is much easier to continue along in the highly critical and mentally harmful world in which you have been raised. Mary’s experience keeps coming back to my mind over and over again.

    The more I thought about this interview, the more I realized that this is not a conversation that I recall ever having during my MLIS or PhD program or even through my research. In LIS, we talk a lot about the impact we have (or may potentially have) on our patrons, particularly the impact children and teen librarians have on young patrons. Yet, we rarely discuss or consider the impact of this work on ourselves. The librarian I interviewed had been directly and personally impacted by working with her high school patrons. Out of all my interviews with librarians, only Mary mentioned being changed through her work with youth.

    After an admittedly cursory look at existing research about the impact of our work on ourselves, I have found little in the way of scholarly or even practitioner research. Most of what I found that somewhat relates are discussions about the impact on job satisfaction, workplace stress, and motivation. But I haven’t found anything about how our work as librarians impacts our personal lives. (Please prove me wrong! There must be something.) This is disappointing. Our everyday work with patrons, especially younger patrons, must and perhaps should have some sort of positive impact on our personal and professional lives. At the same time, I can think of several examples from my work in the library where interactions with patrons has not been the best and impacted my personal life in negative ways. Obviously, our work can have both a positive and negative impact of our personal and professional lives. Yet, why aren’t we talking and writing about this topic? More research is needed into the positive and negative impact of our work on ourselves. More conversation is needed. More questions are needed.

  • Talking About My Research With Non-Researchers aka How I Bore Friends, Family, and Random Strangers

    How do you talk about your research with non-researchers? After spending some time earlier last week talking with other LIS researchers about my work and then spending time talking with non-researchers, this question popped up in my mind (not for the first time). I’d rather not have my work, something I feel quite excited about and proud of, to sound terribly boring and pointless.

    When someone asks what I do, I respond that I’m a doctoral student. I’ve learned not to say ‘doctoral student in information studies’ because that generally gets confused or weird looks. This is completely understandable. Information studies is a pretty vague and odd sounding area to study. Library-ish studies or library related stuff, while not completely accurate, is close enough and often how I describe my field. Then, the next question is, “what are your research interests?” or “what are you researching now?”.  Most of the time I say some combination of social media, young adults, and libraries. But sometimes I feels as if the questioner wants a more thought out response. And there is the unexpected moments when I am so excited about what I’m working on that I feel the need to gush.So, how much is too much? How much is boring? How much can I get away with? But mostly, what does this person really want to know? (If anything.)

    I’ve come up with a few guidelines for myself in response to these questions. I’m not sure if they make sense to anyone else, but here goes:

    1. Avoid talking about theories/theoretical frameworks/models/paradigms/etc. – Not to suggest that whoever I’m speaking with can’t understand these theories, but who outside of my committee, colleagues, and advisors could possibly be interested in hearing about my particular theory or model? I’m guessing nobody…
    2. Avoid using the word “context” – This word just sounds pretentious and snotty.
    3. Try not to sound like you’re regurgitating a journal article – This probably applies when you’re engaging with researchers too. Journal articles aren’t the most exciting of reading, even if you’re interested in the topic.
    4. If you have another doc student in the group, avoid talking about committees, IBR, the peer-review process, your advisors, colloquiums, etc. –  In any conversation, it’s important that those you are talking with have some working knowledge of whatever is being discussed. These words have little meaning outside of the ivory tower, so why bring them up. It’s just rude. I made this mistake during a conference last week. Silly Abby.
    5. Try to find the fun and interesting parts of whatever you are researching and highlight those – If you are interested in it there must be something that others will find amusing, thoughtful, surprising, vaguely curious, or at the very least not boring. Maybe this could be thought of as the sales pitch for your research.
    6. Ask what he/she/they think about your research – Maybe they know something you don’t. Maybe they have some insightful feedback, first impressions, or confusions. It’s fun to get a fresh perspective from someone outside of your world on what you’re passionate about.

    Has anyone else thought about this? How do you talk to “normal” people about research or academia? Any other suggestions? Something to add to my personal checklist? Mistakes I’ve made?

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