This was one of my biggest concerns before Adam and I decided to get pregnant, and, unfortunately, the women I talked to about being a parent didn’t fill me with confidence that I’d be able to balance work and family well. I heard from women who told me that they’d become less ambitious once they had children; women who hated leaving their child at daycare but didn’t have a choice; women who worked 9-to-5, took care of their children and never did anything else; women who could count on one hand the number of times they spent alone time with their spouse in years; and women who chose to stay home with their children. Since Adam and I both had mothers who stayed home with us, we didn’t have many exemplars of mothers who successfully and happily balanced work and family. My mother was actually horrified at first that I was going to send Reed to a daycare. I felt like I couldn’t win.

My biggest worry when I had Reed was that I would want to stay home with him forever when that simply wasn’t financially feasible. I was envious of my former colleague (who had her baby a week before I did) who decided to quit her job and stay home with her daughter. I felt like I would miss so much time with my son and wouldn’t be able to bond with him as well. While, at first, it was hard to comprehend being away from him, I am so glad that I go to work and that he goes to daycare.

A good daycare is one of the best things for a child’s social development. When I get the chance to watch Reed at daycare, I see all of the opportunities he has to learn about sharing, about interacting with other children and adults, about bonding with people other than his parents, and about social play. Just today, I saw him and a little girl trying to play with the same toy — learning how to deal with this simply isn’t something he’s going to get from being home all day, and (most) playgroups are often play mediated by mothers. I’m fortunate that Reed immediately took to being in daycare when we started him in it at 4 months — he’s an incredibly social and high-energy little boy, so being around different people perfectly suits his personality. I very quickly felt comfortable leaving Reed at daycare, because I didn’t feel like it was a second-best/no-other-choice option for childcare — I really do think he’s better off there. That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with staying home with your child; this is just what works for us.

I also realized that I need my identity as a professional. I like going to work, interacting with adults and working on projects. I like giving talks, writing articles and taking part in professional conversations. While I think about Reed when I’m at work, I don’t wish I was home with him. Any concerns I had about my losing my ambitions after having a child went out the window shortly after going back to work. My priorities have not changed. Family was always first — I chose not to write a second book a few years ago because I didn’t want to put such a burden on my husband in taking care of the household. I’m still passionate about my work and it’s just as important to me as it was before. I think the only thing that’s changed is how I manage my time. I don’t have the luxury of coming home from work and writing a blog post or working on an article — I have a sweet little boy play with, feed, bathe and put to bed (and, frankly, I wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything, no matter how tired I am when I get home). I have to find little pieces of time here and there (naps, after Reed goes to bed, Monday mornings since I work a night reference shift, etc.) and obviously can’t do as much as I used to. But I’ve lost none of the passion I had before for technology and our profession.

With all of the (bad) advice being thrown at new mothers, it can be incredibly difficult to find your identity as a mother. I found that many mothers were all about guilt-trips and one-upsmanship. You don’t use cloth diapers? You don’t breastfeed exclusively? You feed your child baby food from a jar? You leave your child with someone else so you and your husband can spend some alone time together? I got the sense from reading books, articles, and (especially) discussion boards that my entire life should revolve around my child since one wrong choice could have terrible consequences, and that having a child would require me to be completely selfless and put my own desires at the bottom of the pile. And I bought into it for a while.

The hardest thing about the first few months after having Reed was letting go of all the expectations I put on myself because I thought that was how a mother was supposed to be. I made myself so miserable trying to be someone I’m not and trying to do things that simply weren’t working for any of us because I thought I had to. Part of it was crazy post-pregnancy hormones and postpartum depression (an issue I never talked to anyone about at the time other than my doctor and my husband), but I feel strongly that a lot of it was my unwillingness to let go of this idea that I had to martyr myself to my child’s needs. I have to wonder how much postpartum depression is caused by these unrealistic expectations people have for themselves as new mothers and what happens when their expectations don’t mesh with the reality.

If anything, I’m more selfish now than I was before having a child. I’m very protective of my time and say “no” to doing a lot of things that I would have said “yes” to a year ago. I work hard to ensure that my husband and I make our relationship a priority, even if it means leaving my precious child with his grandparents while we spend a night at a hotel (which is exactly what we’re doing this Sunday — woo hoo!). And I do things for myself or buy things for myself that make me happy. I realized after that very scary episode with postpartum depression (my first major depressive episode since I was 19) that I need to make myself happy to be a good mother to Reed. Happy mommy = happy baby. So I’ve learned how to balance taking care of me and my marriage with taking care of my little boy. And judging by how happy and mellow he is most of the time, I’d say I’m doing an o.k. job at it.

I’ll also say that having a good work/family/fun balance depends greatly on having a supportive partner (with an emphasis on the word partner). My husband is a partner in every sense of the word — we parent and take care of the house 50-50. He is so wonderful with Reed and there’s nothing I enjoy more than watching Reed climb on his dad and seeing the smiles they both have when they look into each other’s eyes. Without Adam, I can’t imagine making this all work. Thanks hon!

I wish someone had told me all these things when I was thinking about having a child. Yes, you can still be ambitious in your career — you may have to spend less time speaking at conferences and writing books, but you don’t have to give it up altogether. It’s not only ok for you to send your child to daycare, but it might actually be the best thing for him or her. You can be selfish and still be a good mother. If you decide to get an extra hour of sleep instead of making your child’s baby food yourself, he or she won’t be irrevocably scarred by eating food from a jar. That what’s most important is that your child is loved and well cared-for and so many of the other things you think are important when you read baby books or magazine articles really aren’t.

So if you’re on the fence about having a child because you feel like you might have to give up being who you are, realize that choice is up to you. You can still be the passionate, hard-working professional you are and be a great parent — the only thing you’ll absolutely have to change is how you allocate your time. I also wish that someone had told me how much fun it is to have a child. Everyone tells you it’ll change your life, you’ll never sleep again, you’ll never go out to the movies again, etc., but you never hear enough about the awesomeness of parenthood. Reed is really the most fun person I’ve ever known and I treasure every minute I spend with him. I feel so lucky to be his mom. Parenthood isn’t for everyone, but it’s a far more fun and awesome adventure than I’d ever expected.

I guess I see a difference between risk-taking and compromising one’s values. I’m not a liar. I’m not a jerk (at least I don’t think I am). I won’t use people to get ahead like I’ve seen a couple of people do even in our profession. And yet I’ve had great success in my field, far beyond what seems reasonable given my limited years of experience. How did I achieve that success? By doing good work and taking risks. I’m not an aggressive person. I suck at asking for money and advocating for myself. I never overstate my qualifications. I’m just one of the many, many, many people in the profession who have good ideas and an interesting way of presenting them. The one thing that sets me apart from many of the other people out there with great ideas is that I’m not afraid to put myself out there and face possible rejection or failure. i have enough chutzpah to suggest to the head of ALA’s publishing wing that he give me a column in American Libraries since the worst thing that will happen is that he’ll say no. I write blog posts talking about how much I’d like to teach for an LIS program since the worst thing that will happen is that no one will be interested. I don’t risk incarceration or my con being discovered (as Shirky describes); I just risk my heart. And that seems to be enough.

The simple fact is, I’m not willing to compromise my values to get ahead. And if that makes me weak, if that holds me back, so be it. I’d rather go to bed at night feeling good about myself and knowing that the people I like like me too. Compromising my values would keep me up at night and would make me worry that I’d be found out (is impostor syndrome still called impostor syndrome if you are, in fact, an impostor?). There are lots of things I wouldn’t do to get ahead. I wouldn’t take a job I know I wouldn’t like but that would pay really well and would be a huge boost for my career (and, in fact, I turned down a job just like that a couple of years ago). I wouldn’t take a job in an area my husband would hate or where I wouldn’t feel safe raising my child. I would not be a happy person if I wasn’t true to who I am.

Where I agree with Shirky is that self-promotion and risk-taking are important skills that women too often lack. I barely spoke in class in college until I took a course called Women and the American Experience, which was entirely populated by other women. For once, I felt comfortable expressing myself and realized that my ideas were actually pretty good. I hate that Shirky seems to think that confidence or the ability to promote onesself are male traits. That’s B.S. I don’t think confidence is something born to men and not to women; I think it’s something that we learn (or not) along the way through our families, the education system and society. However, whether we are naturally confident self-promoting risk-takers or not, the fact is that we need to be to be successful. I know so many talented women who are afraid to put themselves in a position where they might fail or be humiliated. However, I also know a lot of men like this too. Men who are uncomfortable fighting for themselves or for their ideas. One of my colleagues has given two talks in the 2 1/2 years since getting his first professional position; both of which I arranged for him. He’s a smart cookie and a great speaker, but he just doesn’t put himself out there. This isn’t just a gender issue; it’s an issue for a lot of talented individuals out there who don’t seem to realize that they’re as awesome as they are.

Another thing that really bothers me about Shirky’s post is that he seems to reward jerky self-aggrandizing behavior. If you think there’s something wrong with the system as it is and you’re in a position of power, wouldn’t it make sense to change it? How about encouraging and trying to build up talented women in your classes so they feel more comfortable promoting themselves? I was very lucky to have a mentor like Roy Tennant, who believes in nurturing and promoting young, talented individuals in the profession. He has given me so much great advice and encouragement that I likely wouldn’t be where I am today without his wise counsel. He is a well-known and respected librarian and uses his position to promote people around him. I completely agree with danah boyd who writes -

We need men as allies, men who both encourage women to speak up and who consciously choose to spotlight women who are talented. But, more importantly, we need men (and anyone with privilege) to consciously and conscientiously account for their own privilege and biases and to actively work to highlight and embrace diverse voices of all kinds. Your interpretation of others is just as (if not more) important in creating change as their efforts to impress you. The privileged cannot expect the disenfranchised to assimilate, as tempting as that may be. And even if that were possible, it wouldn’t give us the society we want anyhow.

I’ve used my limited success to promote others who I think are awesome — both male and female. Some of these people would be great self-promoters on their own and others just aren’t comfortable in that role. Like Roy, I’m trying to create the sort of world I want to live in, where people are judged more by their talent than by their ability to promote themselves.

I think Clay Shirky’s thinking — his promotion of basically being a d-bag — is just the sort of thinking that on Wall Street got us into the global financial crisis. Because it was a system that rewards “self-promoting narcissists” who make risky decisions for short-term personal gain that created this whole mess. And while most of those same people who created that mess are still making their $500,000 (or more) bonuses and can sleep at night just fine, I couldn’t. And, frankly, I’m glad about that. I’m glad that I have a moral compass. Are those the kind of values you want to promote in your profession? In your world? I refuse to bend so much to the world around me that I become someone I can’t respect; I’d rather try to make the world bend to my values. We can change things, bit by bit.

I think many of the most important lessons I’ve learned are important ones for all of us in our careers:

1. Leaps of faith often pay off (or better to fail or succeed at the right thing than be successful at the wrong one) – When I first considered the possibility of leaving the social work field for librarianship, I was extremely nervous about it. I’d already gotten one graduate degree that didn’t lead to a satisfying career, and I didn’t relish the idea of getting (nor could I afford to get) another one in a field that I may not end up fitting into either. But something in my gut told me I should do it; that it would be a right fit for me. I took that leap and have never regretted it. I’d gone to graduate school for social work more out of fear than anything else — I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do after college, but I was interested in mental health issues and dove into that for lack of a better idea. Grad school was a safe space away from the scary world of work. Going to library school was the opposite of safe — leaving a professional psychotherapist position to go make $10/hr at a public library while paying for graduate school.

That leads me to the second lesson I learned — 2. the biggest growth experiences come from doing things that scare you – I spent so much time in my earlier years not doing things out of fear. In college, I wrote a lot of poetry and short stories, but I never submitted them to any of the literary magazines at Wesleyan. Because I was afraid of speaking in class, I avoided a lot of great seminars and instead took larger lecture classes that were far less interesting/satisfying. I let fear make my decisions for me. I guess now I do that too, only in the opposite way. I was so afraid to speak in public; more afraid than I can express. But because of my blog and book deal, people kept asking me to speak and I felt like I’d be a fool to say no. Anyone who saw me before my first talk at Computers in Libraries in 2006 can tell you that I was nervous beyond reason. But I gave the talk. And it wasn’t so bad. In fact, I found that I rather enjoyed the excited/nervous adrenaline rush I got from the experience. I’ve become a much better speaker than I was then, but I still get that nervous adrenaline rush before I speak, and I think it makes me a better/higher energy speaker for it. From leaning into my fear, I’ve learned that I’m so much more capable than I initially believed I was.

Recently, a colleague of mine forgot that he had scheduled an instruction session for an English 101 class at 11am and was not planning on coming in that day until 1pm. I only found out about this when the professor and her class showed up at 11am and no one was there to teach them. I had to sprint to get set up and taught a class I had done literally no preparation for and just found out about their assignment that very moment. And, ironically, it ended up being one of the best classes I’ve taught in recent memory. I was high-energy and I think the students really fed off that because they were much more engaged and involved than in most classes I teach. I realized that perhaps I’ve gotten a little too comfortable with my instruction work and that maybe I need to shake it up a bit and try new things that might be a little scary and that might blow up in my face. Because I’m at my best when that adrenaline is flowing.

3. Don’t sell yourself short – What in the world could someone who just got their library degree possibly have to teach experienced librarians about social software? What makes you think you could write an entire book and who in the world will read it? These were just a few of the negative thoughts that swirled around my head at the start of my library career. I didn’t think I possibly had anything useful to offer people, having only been a professional librarian a few short months before getting my book deal. I remember when I was going to give a keynote at UC Berkeley on what the 2.0 organization looks like, I thought I’d get laughed off the stage, since what the hell do I know, not having even been a manager? Even recently, I was asked to write a brief essay for a symposium at ALA Midwinter and wanted to back out when I saw the list of heavy hitters who would also be contributing. While I’ve heard some librarians call me a “rock star”, I still often feel like I just graduated from the kids table.

I may not have the depth of experience of someone who has worked in the profession 30 years. I may not be as tech-savvy as a John Blyberg or a Jason Griffey. I may not be as humorous as a Steve Lawson or an Andrew Pace. I may not be as brilliant and articulate as a Dorothea Salo. But I’ve learned (and am still learning) that it’s ok. I don’t need to be all those things. I don’t need to have all the answers. I bring something different to the table that also has value. People find my perspective unique and interesting, so I don’t need to be like all of those other people as long as I am myself.

I remember being on a panel last summer with a colleague whom I admire greatly. She said that she was so nervous being on a panel with “rock stars.” Funny, because she’s a rock star to me with her passion for the profession and effervescent personality. The fact is, we all have moments where we feel intimidated; even the people we admire do. We all bring something special to the table, and as long as we’re being ourselves and not trying to be Dorothea Salo, Roy Tennant or John Blyberg, we’re probably going to rock it. Because the other lesson that I learned is that 4. you’ll be much happier and more successful when you stop trying to be like other people and start just being yourself. Trying to be like someone else is a lot of work and is rarely satisfying. Embracing who you are and what you have to offer the profession/your community/the world is the best thing — both for yourself and the people who will be able to benefit from your “you-ness.”

5. Don’t get too stuck on a specific vision of your future – My husband is nothing like the kind of guy I thought I wanted to marry. I was into the “sensitive guy” type who liked literature, jazz, indie films, etc. My husband listens to Metallica, likes movies like “Escape from New York,” and hasn’t read anything remotely literary since high school. But he ended up being my soul mate, and had I been stuck on that vision of the sort of guy I wanted to be with, I would never have gone on a second date with him. I had a friend (in her 30s at the time) who was so stuck on a specific vision of what the man she would consider getting serious with should be like that she was constantly rejecting perfectly nice guys she’d date for the silliest of reasons. As a result, she was lonely, but felt that she could not compromise on these silly standards of hers.

You might think that there’s only one type of job that is right for you in the library field. You might be sure that there are other things you would hate doing, based on a hunch. Consider for a moment that you might be wrong. I thought that I absolutely did not want to do face to face instruction when I got out of grad school, and yet, once I gave it a try, I found it was one of the things I most enjoyed. Now I’m the head of instruction at my library — go figure! Open yourself up to interesting possibilities. In this job market, there may simply not be any positions in the area in which you’re interested in working. Being flexible does not mean doing something you absolutely won’t enjoy (just like being flexible doesn’t mean dating someone you absolutely aren’t interested in), but it means being open to the possibility that there could be other options out there that you’d like as much (if not more!).

6. You don’t need to keep going to school to keep learning — I remember thinking when I was in college that I’d like to go to school forever so that I could keep taking classes and learning new things. I wanted a PhD in History, not because I wanted to teach, but because I wanted to keep learning and researching and writing. While I’m not taking classes anymore, I’ve discovered that it’s easy to keep the learning going and recreate the experience of the classroom in the online world. While I may not have one specific teacher, the whole Internet has become my teacher. I’ve created my own personal learning environment (PLE) through blogs, RSS feeds, journals, books (well, not so much lately), and — most importantly — my network on Twitter, Facebook, FriendFeed and in the blogosphere. Because it’s the conversation that really makes the learning meaningful — the reflection, discussion, disagreement, sharing of experiences, and learning from others’ experiences. I am so grateful to be part of a community of brilliant, thoughtful and generous individuals who have taught me so much over the past 5 years.

I’d meant to publish this on December 31st or January 1st, but, as usual, life (or Reed pulling books off the shelf, trying to open the kitchen cabinets, or climbing me) trumped blogging. I’m glad my life is trumping blogging, because it’s an awesome life and watching Reed grow up is a fantastic reason to not be online. That’s not to say that I don’t miss blogging. I miss having an outlet for my thoughts and the time to write them out/work them out online. I miss the conversations. I miss a lot of things. But I’m coming to accept that I can’t have it all. I hope finding a better balance between work/teaching/speaking/baby/husband/friends/blogging/etc. will be one of the things I learn next year. And hopefully as Reed becomes more independent (he’s crawling, standing and cruising already!) I’ll have more time for non-Reed things.

My New Year’s wish — may the good things in all of your lives trump blogging, tweeting, etc. this year. We should all be so lucky.

The thing I’m most excited about is seeing the ALA Unconference that Michelle and I dreamed up almost two years ago become a reality. A lot has changed for Michelle and myself in that time (like we both have babies now!), but our commitment to the development of new and unique learning opportunities hasn’t. It’s been exciting to create something like this within the structure of ALA and I’m grateful to Jim Rettig for allowing us to make this happen as part of his Presidential initiatives. We’ve got a great group of participants and some really interesting discussion topics that they suggested and voted for. I’ll definitely report back here on how it all went!

Here’s my schedule so far for my time in Chicago:

Thursday
Arrive with baby, husband and a lot of luggage. Collapse at my in-laws’ place in Lakeview and hope I wake up long enough to iron my clothes.

Friday, July 10
9:00 am – 5:00 pm – ALA Unconference, Hilton
6:30 pm – Dinner with some librarians I greatly admire

Saturday, July 11
1:30 – 3:00 pm – Life After 2.0 – A panel presentation with myself and some awesome folks like Helene Blowers and Lori Bell! McCormick Place West, Room W-190b
Other than that, I’ll be spending the rest of the day with my niece and nephew who are meeting their new cousin for the first time.

Sunday, July 12
Not quite sure yet what I’ll be doing in the morning
2:30 pm – LITA Awards Reception, Hotel Intercontinental (I’m getting an award! Eep!)
4:00 pm – LITA President’s Program
5:30 pm – Blog Salon – I’ll be there showing off my little bundle of joy

Monday, July 13
1:30 – 3:00 pm – The Ultimate Debate: Has Library 2.0 fulfilled its promise? – Another panel presentation, this time with myself, Michael Porter, David King and Cindi Trainor. McCormick Place West W-181
Dinner with my husband enjoying prime dry-aged beef and lobster mac and cheese. We don’t have stuff like that in Vermont.

Tuesday, July 14
Nothing planned — will probably walk around Wrigleyville with Reed and Adam.

In the beginning of my talk, I showed screenshots of library blogs that haven’t been posted to, MySpace pages that haven’t been logged into, and podcasts that haven’t had new episodes in years. And I talked about some of the reasons why these 2.0 projects may have failed:

The first reason is that frequently social software implementations are not tied to institutional goals. Research has shown that libraries have been much more successful in marketing information literacy instruction when it’s tied to University goals/General Education requirements/etc. It’s the same with 2.0 technologies. Whatever we’re doing should be tied to the library’s strategic goals and planning. If it’s not tied to the library’s goals, then how will it be seen as a priority?

Similarly, 2.0 technologies should be planned for in a strategic way, which I think has not happened at a lot of libraries. Some libraries jumped on the blogging bandwagon because they thought (or were told) that every library must have a blog. Other libraries started wikis because staff were really excited about the idea of having a wiki. Neither are good reasons to implement a technology. We first need to understand the needs of our population (be it patrons or staff) and then implement whatever technology and/or service will best meet those needs. We need to have clear goals in mind from the outset so that we can later assess if it’s successful or not. These technologies may be fun, but they’re simply tools. We don’t walk around with hammers looking for nails to smash in.

In some cases, social software is treated as one staff member’s “pet project.” The use of 2.0 technologies in the library is often one person’s initiative at their library. They will make a passionate case for a blog, wiki, or whatever and will end up handling every aspect of its implementation. When that person leaves their job or gets too busy with other job responsibilities, guess what ends up being abandoned? I heard a horror story from a library that entrusted one staff member with running their MySpace profile and when she left under not-so-friendly circumstances, she refused to give anyone at the library the login information for their profile. This is just as foolish as a library only having one person who can access the back-end of their server or ILS. What if that person gets hit by a bus?!?!? Cross-training is a critical component of building an effective organization, and the same should be the case with any 2.0 technologies a library implements. Making it one person’s sole responsibility is a great way to doom a project.

I think one of the biggest reasons for problems with 2.0 technologies is also one of the major reasons why so many libraries are using them — they’re just so easy to get started with. It takes five minutes to start a blog, a wiki, a del.icio.us account or a MySpace page. And yet, keeping 2.0 technologies going takes significantly more time and effort. Blogs need to be posted to, MySpace pages need to be updated, and wikis need content. And something that people are very excited about maintaining in the first month or two of its existence might lose its allure over time. If there isn’t a plan for how you will maintain the tech from the get-go — be it scheduling posting and moderation, updating the software, etc. — it’s very possible that it will be abandoned when staff become less enthusiastic about it or they just get busy with other things. Libraries need to plan for the implementation and continued maintenance of 2.0 tech in the same way they plan for the technologies they pay a small fortune for. Even 2.0 tech costs money in terms of staff time, so it’s important to take it just as seriously as costly tech.

Finally, I think a lot of library staff end up abandoning 2.0 projects because they simply aren’t given time to work on them. We all have lots of duties that are non-negotiable in our job — reference shifts, instruction, web updates, committee appointments, etc. — and blogs, wikis and podcasts are often seen as something “extra.” If you create a weekly podcast and are totally bogged down one week with library instruction, it’s pretty obvious what won’t get done. While administrators may initially say that implementing 2.0 tech is important to keep up with other libraries and our patrons, they may not give you any additional time to work on these things. I’ve heard that complaint from a number of people at talks I’ve given. If you already have a full workload, your Director tells you that it’s critically important that the library have a blog, but doesn’t free up any time for you to work on it, he or she is sending a really mixed message about its import.

Two attendees actually asked when they should abandon a 2.0 project that just doesn’t have the ROI they were hoping for. Here are some of my thoughts on that:

I think before you abandon a project, you should try to figure out why your 2.0 technology isn’t having the impact you’d hoped for. That way, even if you do need to abandon the project, at least you’ve learned valuable lessons about your population from the failure. We can learn a lot from trying things and failing that can help us better meet our patrons’ needs in the future.

If it’s something your patrons aren’t visiting/using, think about why that might be. Are they not aware it exists? Then try doing more marketing. Is it just not meeting their needs in its current form? See if there’s a way you can make it more useful to them. Maybe your podcast is too long or your blog posts are boring. You should survey your patrons or at least talk to some of them and figure out how you can better meet their needs. Are there barriers to use that your patrons find unacceptable? See if you can bring those down. Our distance learners didn’t use our IM reference service when we first launched it 3 years ago, because most of them didn’t use IM normally (their average age is significantly older than that of our undergrad population) and weren’t exactly going to download a client and create an account just to chat with us. When we started using MeeboMe, everything changed, because the students just had to type words into a box and click enter to chat with us. So look for possible barriers to use. Are you making it too difficult for patrons to comment on your blog or add content to your wiki? Bring those walls down.

If it’s something that’s failing because staff aren’t contributing to it, you need to try to understand what’s behind their resistance. Make sure you’ve done all you can to secure buy-in. Are staff comfortable with the technology? Are they not being given time to add content? Did you offer trainings on it? Are there any technology barriers that you can bring down — make it easier to post, make the wiki/blog/etc. the homepage on their computer, even post things for people to get them started, etc.? But honestly, if most staff members don’t recognize that there’s a need for a library wiki or library blog or whatever in the first place, or the project isn’t strongly supported by administration, it’s not going to be a good fit for your library. That doesn’t mean that it might not be a good fit in the future, but it’s not a good fit now. I’d been wanting to create subject guides using a wiki at our library for a really long time, but waited until my colleagues recognized a need for it (and our Head of Public Services saw a need for it) to actually develop one. And I made sure to offer trainings so that people could practice editing the wiki in a safe space with a knowledgeable facilitator there. Had I introduced the idea earlier or not offered trainings, it would likely have ended in failure.

These are just some thoughts off the top of my pregnancy-addled head. What tips would you give to people who have implemented 2.0 technologies in their library and just aren’t seeing much return on investment from them? What can libraries do to get off on the right foot with 2.0 technologies?

I know a lot of people out there have great ideas that they never try to make happen because they don’t believe in their ability to make them happen. I was always one of those people. I could always find a good reason not to do something and was always very good at talking myself out of things. So many opportunities were wasted. But when I stopped doing that — when my response to trying something new and scary went from “why should I?” to “why not?” — my life got about 100,000 times better than it was before. Everything hasn’t always gone right and most of the things I’ve done have ended up being a ton of work, but I’m now a true believer in doing things that scare me and I no longer make excuses for why I shouldn’t.

What I found is that every time you do something that scares you, you feel more capable of doing something that is even scarier for you; until the things that seemed insurmountably frightening feel quite achievable. Most of the time, having whatever the worst case scenario you’re fearing happen is actually worse than the fear you feel in the first place. Putting myself out there on the web with a blog was scary, but when I started that, I never would have imagined that I’d put myself out there with a book or on a stage with hundreds of librarians looking at me (that was the stuff of nightmares for me). Not in a million years. And each thing was scary at first. I spent hours crying over the book, worrying that I wouldn’t be able to pull it off. I was shaking like a leaf (and sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News) when I gave that first talk at CIL. But once I did it, I realized that it wasn’t so bad and I could do it again. Now I love public speaking. I love the adrenaline rush I get from getting up in front of people and I love teaching. There is nothing more satisfying than hearing that someone learned something useful from you — it beats any award you can get.

What helped get me started was having people who made me think I could do the crazy things I’d been thinking about. I was lucky to be encouraged very early on (even before I had my first professional library job in some cases) by people who for some inexplicable reason believed in me. Paul Pival (without whose resume and cover letter coaching I probably wouldn’t have a job), Dorothea Salo, Roy Tennant, Rachel Singer Gordon, and Michael Stephens were amazing mentors and cheerleaders early on, and their faith in me was so instrumental to any success I’ve had. And through it all, of course, my husband Adam made me believe I could do anything. I’d never have started this blog without him. Thank you all so much! I’d like to say that I could have done all this on my own, but before I had evidence that I could achieve the things I dreamed about, I really needed that encouragement. I admire people who can do it all without encouragement from others, but believing in myself has never come naturally to me.

We are very lucky to work in a profession where someone fresh out of library school (or even IN library school for that matter) is allowed to achieve so much. I have respect for experience and have learned a lot over the past few years, but I’m glad that no one ever said to me “what does she know about social software in libraries? She’s a brand-new librarian!” It never happened. I was allowed and encouraged to create and contribute and I still find that extraordinary. So folks out there who are LIS students or are just settling into their first job: the only barriers to your contributing to the profession are you. If you have a vision and are willing to work hard to achieve it, you really can make it happen.

This award came at such a nice time. I know that once my baby comes (in less than a month — ack!) I won’t have much time to devote to my extracurricular activities. I know it will take me a good long while to get back to a place where I can start focusing on the million project ideas that are banging around in my head like pinballs. And I know that I will never be as single-mindedly focused on my career again because that’s the choice I made when I decided to have a child. But this award reminds me that I did make a difference with what I’ve done over the past four years and that I do want to continue to contribute in any way I can in the future. My priorities have changed, but contributing to the profession is still something I feel passionately about and will always be a priority in my life.

The online conference that’s coming up is the ACRL Virtual Conference. This is the virtual component of ACRL’s National Conference which takes place next month in Seattle. I’m on the ACRL Virtual Conference committee, though I can’t take any credit for the coolness of this online conference. ACRL has had a virtual conference component for many years, though in the past, it didn’t offer a lot of bang for the buck — usually a few virtual talks and access to the conference community for networking and conference handouts. This time it’s very different. ACRL has contracted with a company that will be capturing the audio and slides of every presentation, and offering them as a movie at nearly the same time that the live session is going on (with just a tiny delay). This means that people registered for the virtual conference will be able to access every single presentation at the live conference. In addition, there will be live virtual presentations that are completely unique to the Virtual Conference, organized chat discussions, events in Second Life and more!

Attending the ACRL Virtual Conference will only set you back $165 (if you’re an ACRL member); a lot less than the physical conference, especially when you factor in travel expenses. And if you’re already registered for the National Conference, it’s FREE! For those who would love to attend ACRL but just don’t have the funds, this is a terrific opportunity to benefit from the knowledge being shared in Seattle without leaving your office.

The ACRL Virtual Conference committee is actually offering a Webcast kickoff event this week that anyone interested in social software, research and education should definitely be interested in:

Tuesday, February 17, 2009 – 1:00 – 2:15 p.m. CST
(11:00 a.m. – 12:15 p.m. PST | 12:00 – 1:15 p.m. MST | 2:00 – 3:15 p.m. EST)
The Virtual Conference kicks into high gear with a new feature for 2009 – the Kick-Off Webcast! On Tuesday, February 17, the Virtual Conference presents Jean-Claude Bradley, Associate Professor of Chemistry and E-Learning Coordinator for the College of Arts and Sciences at Drexel University, giving an invited presentation that can be seen as part of the Virtual Conference. Take advantage of this opportunity to interact in real-time with this expert in e-learning and “open science.”

Jean-Claude is someone who has really inspired me with his use of social technologies and gaming in the classroom as well as his research on the potential of social software in improving research. More information about registering and the features of the Virtual Conference are available on the ACRL Conference website.

The other awesome online conference I was involved in was the Iowa Small Libraries Online Conference. In places like Iowa, small library can take on a meaning totally different from ALA’s definition of what a small library is. The libraries targeted by this conference tend to be really small and without the resources to send its library staff across the state to attend a conference. So, instead of having a conference that only libraries with sufficient funding could afford to send staff to, the regional library associations in Iowa created an online conference that any interested librarian could participate in. They capitalized on their WebJunction membership and used the Wimba web conferencing platform. It was just like any normal conference with live scheduled presentations. They even had a virtual exhibit hall where attendees could chat with vendors!

I had the pleasure of giving the keynote presentation at the conference. As someone who has done gazillions of webcasts using just about every platform imaginable, I was really impressed with how well the conference organizers supported attendees and speakers technologically. Things went extremely smoothly and given the professionalism and preparedness of the organizers, I would assume that it continued that way throughout the day. I was absolutely touched that they sent me a little care package with chocolates, socks, a mug and hot cocoa so I’d be cozy and comfortable during my talk (that has to be the most adorable speaker’s gift I’ve ever received). But much more than that, I was so proud to be part of a conference that made professional development accessible to people who may never have been able to get to a national or even state conference. Associations that have lots of rural or small library members should definitely take a lesson from the wonderful people in Iowa who made this possible.

I’d originally wanted to make the ALA Unconference a hybrid f2f/online experience, but most people on Jim Rettig’s advisory committee felt that we should focus on the in-person element. In hindsight, I think they were right. As it turns out, the Unconference is going to be located in a hotel that may or may not offer wireless Internet access (or Internet access at all — I have no idea since we don’t even know what hotel it’ll be in). Given how difficult it can be to get really reliable wireless access at an ALA Conference we could have ended up creating expectations for an online component that we simply could not deliver on. And while the online/offline balance for the Top Tech Trends meeting at Midwinter was brilliantly executed to allow for maximum participation from all (kudos to the tireless organizers of that!), the online components integrated into that same panel actually ended up being a distraction at Annual. While I’d love to do a hybrid Unconference in the future, I’m glad other folks talked us out of it this time around. I’d hate to have created something that would have served to show ALA that Unconferences are not a good model for them.

I feel much more optimistic this year about the growth of online conference opportunities than I did last year. And as budgets shrink and professional development funds become scarce, I hope more organizations will consider creating online conferences — if not as the main event, at least as a component of a F2F conference like ACRL. Because it’s likely that far fewer of us will be able to jet off to Seattle or Chicago or Boston or DC next year and conference organizers will have to be creative to keep their own revenues up.

I found this definition of the word expert in the Wikipedia:

An expert is someone widely recognized as a reliable source of technique or skill whose faculty for judging or deciding rightly, justly, or wisely is accorded authority and status by their peers or the public in a specific well distinguished domain. An expert, more generally, is a person with extensive knowledge or ability in a particular area of study. Experts are called in for advice on their respective subject, but they do not always agree on the particulars of a field of study. An expert can be, by virtue of training, education, profession, publication or experience, believed to have special knowledge of a subject beyond that of the average person, sufficient that others may officially (and legally) rely upon the individual’s opinion. Historically, an expert was referred to as a sage. The individual was usually a profound philosopher distinguished for wisdom and sound judgment.

I have a lot of friends who are knowledgeable about various topics who I would certainly trust if I needed advice in that area. Some are considered experts and some are not. The only difference I can really see between those who are and aren’t experts is how they have positioned themselves. The ones who are considered experts often speak at conferences or write articles or teach classes on their chosen subject. Because of this, their name becomes associated with that subject, making them an “expert”. It’s like me and wikis or Greg Schwartz and podcasting or Rachel Singer Gordon and career stuff. We created some stuff, wrote some stuff, talked about some stuff, and suddenly, we were authorities on the subject. And, for some of us who are now considered experts, it’s a title we’re rather uncomfortable with.

Tto me, the definition of an expert should be someone who has knowledge on a certain topic (or set of topics) and is willing to share that knowledge with others. There are likely lots of people out there who know as much, if not more, about a topic than an expert, but they don’t feel the inclination to share their knowledge publicly. This may mean that an expert is frequently no more an authority on a subject than any other person with similar knowledge; it just means that they’re more likely to be willing to share that knowledge (maybe for free, maybe for money).

No matter how much Web 2.0 pushes the notion that the amateur has a lot to offer, I still find that many people would rather ask questions of someone publicly seen as an expert. For example, I wrote a column for American Libraries (published last month) where I talked about using Wordpress as a content management system for a library website. I highlighted several library websites in the column including the Troy Public Library. Instead of emailing the people at the Troy Public Library to ask them about their site, one librarian emailed me to ask me all about their website and how he could do something like that. I certainly don’t know more about how the Troy PL achieved their website than they do. I get lots of people writing and asking me about things completely outside of my areas of knowledge like computer reservation systems for public libraries or careers for youth service librarians. Why someone would feel more comfortable asking an academic librarian about these things than, say, a listserv full of people who have varied experience in these areas is beyond me. I’m always happy to help with something I feel comfortable offering advice on, but sometimes I get questions that seem much better-suited for “the hive.”

Relying solely on the opinions of experts can also be dangerous. When I was a child and family therapist, I worked with a lot of clients whose parents pretty much saw the word of their psychiatrist as the word of God. They would never question a doctor. I mean, if they have an MD, clearly they must be right, right? I went to the psych evaluation of one of my clients where the psychiatrist asked the child if he fell asleep in school. The child said “yes.” He then said that the child was narcoleptic. Luckily I was there to bring up the fact that the child can’t sleep at night and falls asleep in class because of his insomnia, or he’d have been put on a serious medication needlessly (that probably also would have made the insomnia worse). I’m glad many people these days don’t just accept everything that’s told to them by a doctor — second opinions (or third, or fourth) are very valuable to help patients make the best decisions for their own health. We should question the advice of these experts.

I think the idea of experts and amateurs creates a false dichotomy; as if only the very few are capable of attaining a certain level of knowledge of a subject. I worry that it may make some people feel like they aren’t capable of learning a lot about a certain subject and that they will always have to rely on others for answers. A lot of people underestimate their ability to do things with technology; I see it in my class and enjoy watching students prove themselves wrong on that count. I do not have more talent for learning how to use wikis, blogs and other social software tools than most other semi-tech-savvy people in this profession and I’d hate to think that the whole expert/amateur thing would lead anyone to think that they aren’t capable of doing something on their own.

And I’m sure some “experts” want people to feel incapable. In some fields, experts make a lot of money telling other people how to live their lives, how to make money, etc. Even those of us in the profession who are considered experts benefit in some way, though most of us certainly can’t quit our day job. If everyone felt that they could learn to manage money on their own, they wouldn’t buy Suze Orman’s books or watch her TV show. Then again, none of us really wants to learn everything on our own, so people would probably still read books by “experts” even if they didn’t consider those people any smarter than a lot of the other people who know stuff about that subject.

I’m glad there are people who write books about baby stuff and childbirth that I can read. However, I also don’t take what any of them say to be the gospel. Instead of relying on one expert, I read a lot of books, articles, etc., which tend to offer a lot of conflicting advice (cribs with drop-sides are bad/cribs with drop-sides are fine, cord blood storage is a waste of money/cord blood storage is important insurance for your child, co-sleeping is good/co-sleeping is bad, etc.). I query the hive. In the end, I make the decision myself based on the opinions of doctors, midwives, mothers, writers, friends, and my own gut. Experts sometimes pass off opinion as fact — like the book my colleague read that encouraged women to moderately drink and smoke during pregnancy and strongly discouraged circumcision — and even if they don’t, there will be some bias to what they write. My book was biased towards lightweight virtual reference solutions like instant messaging, and I’d hope anyone considering implementing virtual reference at their library would read more than just my book when planning for it.

I know it would be a lot easier to just ask an expert, get an answer and go with it, but that’s exactly what we teach our patrons not to do. We teach them to be critical of information — to utilize multiple sources and to see where the author is getting their information from. People often ask me which wiki software they should use and I feel very reluctant to give them that sort of an answer. I think people should make that decision on their own, based on research they’ve done. Just because I like MediaWiki doesn’t mean it’ll work for your project and I’m only willing to give people a list of popular software options, not to give them a definitive answer. There’s nothing wrong with seeking out the opinion or advice of people you trust, but it’s important to realize that their advice is just that and isn’t necessarily the best option.

It’s nice to see people becoming more critical of information generally, and it should be interesting to see how this impacts the notion of “experts vs. amateurs” in the future.

While I was sad to miss Internet Librarian this year, I found the conference in Iceland to be one of the best I’ve attended in some time. There was so much great food for thought, so many new ideas, so many people I’d never met before. At Internet Librarian, I would have had loads of fun, but I imagine that only one or two of the talks I attended would have offered me something really new. Still, I definitely would have been sad to miss IL had I not been on my own trip.

On the second day of the conference, I spoke about the future of library education as did everyone else who spoke that day. Each talk came from a somewhat different perspective (library 2.0, marketing, skills library leaders need, emerging jobs for librarians, interdisciplinarity, etc.), which led to many fascinating insights based on the speakers’ diverse views and backgrounds. At the end of the day, I was part of a panel discussion, which took an interesting turn. In my talk, I’d emphasized the critical importance of students getting practical library experience as part of the curriculum. This was echoed by other speakers that day, but notably not by those who came from academia in Iceland. After my talk, I was approached by some library school students who complained about their practicum in school which lasts a mere 40 hours. How much can anyone learn about librarianship in one week?!?!

During the panel discussion, talk quickly turned to the importance of practical experience in the LIS curriculum; how library schools that don’t require students to take a practicum are doing a serious disservice to their students. Librarians don’t get a lot of training in this profession; managers expect to hire people who have a clear understanding of how libraries work and how to do the various pieces of their job. If your only knowledge of libraries is academic, you will have a steep learning curve (if you get the job at all in a market where experienced librarians are competing for entry-level positions). Also, what you learn in library school is so much more relevant and meaningful if you already had some experience in a library setting. Some of the LIS students bravely (since two of the panelists were Icelandic LIS faculty) stood up and discussed how useless they felt much of their library school curriculum was and how much they wanted more practical experience to be a part of the required curriculum. You go girls! One of the faculty members seemed to agree that more practical experience should be integrated into the curriculum, while the other seemed mostly to want to defend the current curriculum. It was interesting to see her negative reaction to the notion that the curriculum was out-of-touch with the current realities of the profession, especially since the conference was all about how we have to change to meet the changing needs of patrons and change the education system to train librarians who can do that.

While that tension between academia and those in practice was clearly in evidence at this conference, I think it goes far beyond Iceland. When more than 50% of people who’ve graduated in the past 5 years (and answered my survey) stated that their LIS curriculum did not prepare them for their professional work, I think we have a real disconnect between what is taught and what is needed. I love that San Jose State University’s LIS program has formed advisory boards on various topics that consist of people outside of academia. I’m on a technology advisory board which suggests topics that they should consider teaching in future semesters. That way, they are aware of what skills the profession needs right now and they don’t develop tunnel vision. I’d imagine that there’s a danger of faculty only proposing topics that are within their research interest or that they’d like to teach, leading to a curriculum that may not be designed well to meet the current and future needs of the profession. Getting advice from people who are connected to emerging technologies and to what is happening in the profession makes great sense and I’m surprised that more schools aren’t doing this. A PhD doesn’t mean you have all the answers. Just as academic research should inform practice, practice should inform academia.

You can see the slides from my talk below:

As I told the audience during my talk, a great example of the power of Web 2.0 was my very presence in Iceland. Had I listened to the media (the “expert”) I would have thought that Iceland was in chaos and that I’d have to worry about food shortages, my credit card not working, and not being able to leave because of a shortage of fuel. However, when I looked at sites like TripAdvisor and did blog searches for recent posts about Iceland, I found nothing of the kind. Everyone said that things were fine, that tourists didn’t need to worry, and that the Icelandic people would very much appreciate our tourist dollars during this difficult time. I definitely made the right decision in trusting the “amateur” over the “expert” since it ended up being one of the best trips I’ve taken.

Thanks to the organizers of the conference and all of the wonderful people I met in Iceland. Your hospitality and kindness made icy Iceland a very warm place for me, and I learned so much from the trip.

On Friday, I was down in Rhode Island giving the keynote for the NELINET IT Conference. My talk was entitled Can’t Get There From Here: Achieving Organization 2.0 and it was fun to focus on how organizations need to behave in order to start innovating, keeping up with patrons, and implementing new technologies effectively. Thanks to the folks at NELINET for the opportunity to pontificate on one of my favorite topics. You can see my slides below.

After that, I took a trip down to Connecticut to visit my alma mater, Wesleyan University, and do some serious apple-picking. At Wesleyan, I had two really odd experiences. The first was being asked to pay reparations by some Wesleyan students, which I guess shouldn’t have surprised me since I did spend four years in that environment. The second thing happened in the library, which was my home away from home when I was at Wes. I was showing Adam some of my favorite spots in the library when all of a sudden, someone said, “excuse me, are you Meredith Farkas?” It turned out the Science Librarian (hi Andrew!) reads my blog and somehow recognized me from my picture on it. That was really bizarre! I let him know that I’d sell my soul to one day work at Wesleyan; it really is an awesome library and an amazing academic environment. I still wouldn’t pay reparations though.

Next week, I’m supposed to be going to Iceland to give a talk on library education in the 21st century. I’m getting increasingly nervous about going though considering the state of their economy. I’ve been reading about possible food shortages because grocers can’t get foreign currency, and other pretty serious possible consequences of their rather extreme credit and currency crisis. Of course, I’m also seeing articles about how it’s the best time to visit Iceland. Normally, I’d probably be game to go either way, but now that I’m responsible for another human life, I’m a little more hesitant about going into a possibly unsafe situation. I plan to wait and see how things look later in the week and if the situation there is looking a bit more promising, I’ll definitely go. It would be a bummer not to go since I’d lose a bunch of money, would let down the organizers, and would miss going to both Iceland and Internet Librarian. But baby comes first.

If you are going to Internet Librarian, say hi to my colleague, Toni Josey. She was hired as our Distance Learning Librarian when I was promoted and she’s absolutely fantastic! She even has a blog where she writes about distance learning librarianship.

After October, I don’t have any other speaking engagements until January when I’m giving a keynote for an online conference for rural librarians in Iowa. I’m glad to see there are more online conferences happening; not only because I won’t be able to travel as much as I used to, but because it makes professional development so much more accessible to every librarian. Rock on, Iowa!