People revere libraries. They speak of them with glowing praise. They treat them like sacred spaces, havens of comfort and light. When good news is needed, turning focus to the activities of libraries and librarians brings people joy.
Although public libraries are secular entities, the history of libraries is rooted in religion and the preservation of religious texts. Our current reverence for books and libraries stems from that religious history. In many ways libraries are currently seen as the souls of their communities, sacred spaces that are accessible to all. And caring to all. And nourishing to all.
So what does this mean for librarians?
Fobazi Ettarh, a librarian at Rutgers University, has coined the term “vocational awe” to describe the way that the role of librarian is treated in our society. Teachers, non-profit workers, and other civil servants are treated with a similar vocational awe.
What it means is that there is an expectation that people who go into these fields do it with a sense of calling, a desire to serve, and an inner passion for their work. Similar to clergy, they are lauded for surrendering themselves to the greater cause that they serve.
When a profession is treated in this way- any profession- it creates the perfect scenario for abuse to occur.
Library employees are frequently expected to give of themselves, their personal time, their emotional energy, their physical health, their family priorities, and their depleted creativity to serve the needs of their patrons, their coworkers, their supervisors, and their communities. What’s more, they are expected to do so out of their own personal passion for their jobs, without sufficient wages, budgets, or other support. And they are expected to be grateful for the honor of the role, never speaking a negative or challenging word about the institutions that employ them.
When they succeed in these conditions, librarians are praised for their resourcefulness. But being able to do more with less often means they will keep getting less while being asked to do more.
Under the stress of current economic conditions, library employees are being treated as expendable, starting with the lowest-paid and most vulnerable individuals. There have been irregularities in what is required of librarians at this time, and many feel that they are unnecessarily risking their own health for the sake of continuing to meet the demands of the government entities that employ them. Some librarians are being asked to fill roles far outside their job descriptions in order to keep receiving an income. Services provided by libraries right now, such as curbside pickup, are putting library employees at further risk and requiring a much harder workload.
It is time we ask ourselves some very big questions about the disparity between who we praise and who we provide for.
Does our reverence for libraries prevent us from seeing their limitations? From allowing them to have limitations? Can we find a way to regulate the expectations placed on libraries while also providing adequate funds and resources to meet those expectations?
When you read a news story about a new, creative way that librarians are meeting the needs of their communities or an extra service they have chosen to provide, be thankful for them and for the recognition they are receiving. But also consider who might be paying the price of that added burden. And what other efforts are going unnoticed and unrecognized. And how recognition itself is inadequate compensation for the value of the services provided.
Angie Gustafson 