Chasing moths

At the beginning of the academic year, a university-based librarian usually finds herself* instructing students in how to find information. I completed my initial forty-six hours of such instruction yesterday, so it’s time to take stock…

I sometimes wonder, when in the throes of teaching, whether the students reallise how much effort goes into educating them.  I reflect on the times I sat through certain of my degree lectures, a little bored, wondering when it would be over, not for one moment considering that the person talking had put hours and hours into preparing the lecture, was likely making a certain physical effort in delivering it and could wind up deflated if there was no obvious appreciation.

El Croquis. Smell the quality.

El Croquis. Smell the quality.

I put a lot of me into my teaching. I enthuse about beautiful architectural books, about databases, about fabulous high resolution Creative Commons licensed photographs of buildings. I’m quite physical in my enthusing.  When I talk about structuring searches and identifying synonyms for keywords, I run to the nearest window, point and ask the architectural students to tell me what it is (one day someone WILL say fenestration).  When I talk about the gorgeously glossy architectural journals such as El Croquis and Casabella, I have a good sniff of the pages and pass them around, instructing the students to smell the quality of the information (they always indulge me, bless ’em).  I positively force students to stroke material samples we hold in our trade literature collection.  I sometimes use interpretive dance to demonstrate ideas (this works particularly well when explaining CI/SfB classification). I have students join in panto-style, shouting out answers, telling me whether a search will result in more (higher!) or fewer (lower!) results.  I have them grade on a scale of one to ten how excited they are about particular database search features (it’s usually an eight).  I spend in the region of £25 each year buying lollies to hand out to students for answering a quiz question using databases, getting some Internet for Architecture Tutorial quizzes correct and answering my particularly tricky citing and referencing questions.  And I recently found myself running about a room trying to free a moth, offering a moment’s diversion for the students.

Architecture students are a particularly clever and creative lot.  They are peculiarly confident and sometimes delightfully cheeky.  So, more often than not, the instructing will descend into jolly banter, which I actively encourage.

And, each time I manage to sneak into another School of Architecture lecture and discover what the students are learning, I try to incorporate some of that experience into my own teaching.  This can leave me feeling very vulnerable, as I’m ignorant about architecture, and can’t easily express why I respond to a particular building in a particular way, but sometimes this obvious vulnerability draws an opinion from an otherwise retiring student.

Water Moth by Benjiman Green, on Flickr

This is not the moth I saved. This moth is likely dead now. (Photo by Benjiman Green)

I tell myself that these things combined mean the students stand a better chance of remembering what I’m trying to teach.  That these things combined mean I appear human to them and they’re more likely to approach me on library related matters.  And these things combined have often resulted in exactly that. But these things combined aren’t pedagogically sound and may be frowned upon were some colleagues to witness them.  And these things combined mean I could alienate students who judge me unprofessional.

I’d love to hear other librarians’ thoughts on this.  On whether it’s best to subdue one’s personality when teaching. Or whether a little bit of silliness goes a long way…

* shameful gender stereotyping


Library Camp: it wasn’t in a library and there was no camping

Sarah points out the next session

We chose our sessions from Post-It proposals on a board (Photo by Katy Wrathall)

Last Saturday 150 enthusiastic librarians and library enthusiasts converged on Birmingham for an unstructured day of sharing, cake eating and hugging.  This was Libary Camp and it was good.

A darned high proportion of the 150 enthused library types have already blogged about Library Camp in splendid detail. You’ll find these posts via the Libary Camp Twitter archive. So, if these posts are splendid, why should I bother blogging too?  Well, dearest reader, because once again the power of the Twitter librarian (for the Library Campers were mostly Twitter-savvy) has rescued me from a bit of a motivational slump at work and I feel inspired…

I’ll wager that all the Campers gave their own time and money to talk about work on a weekend.  I love my job, and gladly allow certain parts of it to drift into my personal life.  At times I, unreasonably, resent some colleagues for not doing the same.  To meet so many people, who have the same attitude as me was wondrously self-validating.

The Library Campers reminded me I’ve still so much to learn.  I’ve been librarianing* for twenty seventeen years and can, at times, be complacent, thinking I do my job just fine, thanks.  If I never ventured beyond my own institution, I could end up believing my own hype.  This morning I slowed the pace of a library induction because @joeyanne and Jean Allen’s session on Transliteracy: bridging the transition from school and further education to higher education brought home to me that some 18 year olds may never have been inside a library.  @AndyWalsh999 and @DaveyP’s session on Games and gamification gave me an idea for my soon-to-be-rewritten finding architectural information sessions (it has something to do with images of buildings and jigsaws).  And tomorrow I’ll be asking whether we can get data re where people are located when they use Cardiff University’s mobile app to chat online to librarians, to better inform our approach to roving, or floor-walking, because it was suggested during @AndyWalsh999’s session on Mobile technology and what it means for us.

Thumbs up for the massage

Hugs, massages, handshakes (for the less desirous of human contact)... it was all on offer at Library Camp! (Photo by Ben Elwell)

I was with friends.  Good friends.  Good friends who like to hug.  Absolutely nothing better for the spirits than friends and hugs.  You can see just how happy this made me in a couple of the non-cake Library Camp photos on Flickr and in some of @llordllama‘s Randy Weasel films.

Add to that already heady mix a great evening meal with some of my favourite people, an absolutely lovely weekend spent with @SmilyLibrarian, @SarahGB and @EzzieSays and Wales winning through to the semi-finals of the Rugby World Cup, and you can guess at why my Library Camp weekend left me buzzing.

I achieved a lot more today, a Monday, than I ordinarily would, thanks to my post-Library Camp buzz. The Twitter librarians, the Library Campers, are my colleagues, as much as the people I see every day. They inspire me.  They are great.

*not a real word

Librarian, heal thyself

Lovely architecture student demonstrates sketching in Dublin

I got paid to go abroad and watch students sketch. Lovely.

In March, I was fortunate to accompany the first year architecture students on their week-long architectural study visit to Dublin.  I spent the majority of my time watching the students sketch buildings.  I quickly realised that the act of sketching, the doing, was how these students were learning. And I began to wonder whether this explained why they rarely retained the information seeking skills I tried to instill in them.

Now, librarian chums, do not fear! I’ve always insisted students do the old information seeking and evaluation bit. I even tie it to an assessed critical bibliography, which precedes their first essay submission. But, I was thinking, was this enough doing? And the right sort of doing?

I resolved to review my first year workshops for the 2011/2012 academic year.

My doodles

My doodles. Mostly of food.

So, with the 2011/2012 academic year almost upon us, when I’ve a spare moment, I’ve stared at the wall and awaited inspiration. I’ve doodled. I’ve re-read my last year’s workshop material. I’ve played with a new architecture database and its fun visual representation of results.

Yes, wall-gazing is how I, a librarian, usually approach finding new ideas for my teaching. I, a librarian, who expends obscene amounts of energy telling other people to research their topics using bibliographic databases. I, a librarian, who looks ruefully at people when they tell me there’s no quality information for their essay, or pictures for their design project. I, a librarian, when I need to find information, don’t do research and I don’t do databases…

Oh, and I usually return my books late and get library fines…

Anyway, a fortnight ago, two things happened that reminded me there could be some professional literature out there that could help me with the whole right sort of doing thing…

First of all, I attended a Social Media for Researchers workshop with Dr Alice Bell, wherein we were encouraged to set up a blog, register for and blog about a peer-reviewed article.

Secondly, a colleague from the wonderful Architecture Librarians’ Group recommended an article on the information seeking behaviours of architects. From a peer-reviewed journal, no less. What fortune!

So, armed with one peer-reviewed article that I’m currently trying to digest and potentially blog about, I’ve also tracked down other relevant articles using LISTA, the Library, Information Science and Technology Abstracts database.  And I’ve found information from Dr Andrew Roberts and Professor Andrew Baldwin on the Centre for Education in the Built Environment‘s website, about problem-based learning in architecture and civil engineering students’ information searching behaviour.

Do I have my new workshop materials? Not yet. But do I feel a little reassured that my approach to teaching preparation won’t be as erratic as usual? Yes.

So, is this librarian healed?

Um, probably not…

The secret life of an academic librarian

I got a bit mucky with the weeding today. At work. Let me explain…

Library space is finite, but knowledge is forever growing and shifting. Most library users never question how it is librarians keep buying books without the shelves ever getting full.

More Flatlets for Old People

Uh oh, a green book

Well, we weed. We put books that haven’t been read into stores and, when the stores are full, we withdraw stock from stores.  I won’t bore you with the details, but, dear reader, please be assured that we define withdrawal parameters and produce systems reports to meet those parameters.  We don’t just chuck out the green books. I promise.

So, back to today… We need to clear one of our remote stores, ready for the University to build some shiny new building. This store is a cold, steel, hangar-like, window-less and woefully biscuit-free construction. It’s full, good and proper full, of stuff.  Over 30 metres of that stuff is related to architecture, the discipline I’m responsible for. There are no systems reports to assist me with the weeding here, just a netbook to check library catalogues and my knowledge of what the School of Architecture teaches and researches. That’s in my head. Which is why a librarian devoted to one subject, a subject librarian if you will, makes a good weeder. We mostly know what excites the academics and what they won’t miss. Parisian garden pavilions? Yes please! Eighteenth century churches of Dorset? Be gone with you! In addition to knowing what can be reasonably withdrawn, the subject librarian has a good gut feeling for what books are worth a bit. Sometimes we’re wrong. Sometimes that 1909 first edition can be picked up from a second-hand book dealer for 63p. But often we spot what’s going in the second-hand trade for over £100.  I found a lovely few bits and pieces in our hangar-like store worth £2,000, and they were right mucky too. (Don’t worry, we’ll de-muck those and put them somewhere safe.)

48 metres of books

About 48 metres of books

I’ve got another 35-odd hours of work to clear my bits from this store. Hours that I’d much rather spend teaching students about electronic databases, or helping academics with a tricky enquiry, or ordering more lovely books for our weeded shelves, but I know this work is crucial.  And out of sight of the library users. And totally, utterly unappreciated. Ah well, much of what the academic librarian does to keep things ticking over is secret. And, truth be told, provided our users are happy, we don’t really mind.