by Sean Bird
As a new librarian, I have to admit that I find something new and fascinating about the profession nearly every time I have a conversation with a colleague or work with a patron. But I’m finding that the profession is in an intriguing search for its own identity, while at the same time I’m trying to determine of what that character consists. It’s not a crisis, I hasten to add, because I don’t sense the panic and confusion that frequently accompany calamities. Instead, I recognize that we librarians are doing what we’ve done for patrons for generations: finding information that solves problems and engenders solutions.
Public libraries recognize that books continue to define most missions, and they build collections that compete with the contemporary bookstore and then, hopefully, do more. They have books that reflect the essence of the people and the history of a unique community. They keep books that speak to the generations of children that came before the current cohort of kids coming up. But to be relevant, public libraries must provide not only books, but books on tape, music, movies, and even games. In many communities, libraries are the trenches in which the digital divide is waged on a day-by-day basis. These libraries look and sound as different as the towns, neighborhoods, and cities they serve and foster, but to the public they serve, they look the same in each: people with problems or passions who know where to find what they seek.
Academic libraries are transforming, too. No longer cavernous repositories of books, libraries on campuses are recasting their images to resemble an array of Information Commons models currently being tried across the nation. Students must learn to navigate the often overwhelming waves of indiscriminate information available to both novice and experienced researchers. Centers of learning have a responsibility to provide the most comprehensive resources affordable, but librarians in educational settings have an obligation to provide not only the information itself, but the skills researchers need to make optimum use of the available information.
At the end, though, with all the changes taking place in every corner of the library profession, I feel the twin engines of excitement and confidence propelling me into an indeterminate future holds our common fate. I know my library companions are in this for the long haul. I talk to librarians from many states and through different media, and I know that while we may at times differ in methods, our responsibility is unyielding and resolute. In the blogs and wikis, in essays, emails, and articles, the voices of librarians across the land speak with vibrancy and volume: we accept the challenge. We are the future. The time is now.
How may we help you, today?
