Book Companion:

Library and Information Center Management,
Seventh Edition

For This We Get A Master's Degree?

Four of us librarians were gathered in the office of the director of the Handgrove College Library late in the afternoon on a Friday at the end of the fall term. The director, Joan Cloud, was there, and three reference librarians - Miriam Bindloss, Gilbert Vedder, and me. (My name is Dana Warne - in this narrative.) There had been five of us, but the head of the reference department, Louise Redid, had volunteered to respond to a student's request for help with a computer that had frozen, with all of his file on it.

We had been chatting idly about nothing in particular when suddenly the director clapped her hands and said: "Well, you guys didn't ask to meet with me to talk about the weather and how you're going to spend your respective weekends. What do you want now?"

The three of us glanced at each other. "Who's going to start?" I asked.

Vedder spoke: "Shouldn't we wait for Louise?"

I caught a faint smile on the director's face and answered it with a big one of my own. "I know! I know!" I laughed. "WE better get to the point or this meeting is going to come to an abrupt end! Right?" I felt it was necessary to establish the right mood if we expected to get Joan Cloud to listen to us.

"You've got it!" Cloud said quickly. There was nothing brusque or unkindly in her tone, just a carefully measured firmness.

The three of us looked at each other again, but no one spoke. The director began doodling on a scratch pad and humming a non-descript tune. I decided to speak up.

"We're here, Joan, about the fact that we - the professional reference librarians - have to be the ones to look after the technology when it breaks down and to say -"

"Not this again!" Cloud broke in, looking up and putting an end to her doodling and humming. "So you thank that by ganging up on me I'll give the job to somebody else!"

Now I must pause here to explain about Joan Cloud. She is a woman of about 40 years of age, fond of kidding, an easy talker (usually), and quite a good boss - all things considered and by comparison to some others I've worked for and heard about. But she is volcanic in her temperament. She remains inactive for long stretches of time, but when she overflows she does so thoroughly. Anyone with half their wits about them soon become adept at reading the ominous signs of impeding explosions. And since we who are her subordinates are in no position to match explosion with explosion we try our collective bests to keep the volcano from rumbling.

I realized that we were off to a bad start, and I trust Miriam and Gilbert did too. We had been expecting Louise Reid to carry the ball for us, but she jumped up and vamoosed when the student assistant at the circulation desk called to say someone was having problems with a computer. We knew why she did it, and half-understood. The fact that the reference librarians have to work with the technology, clear paper jams, and do assorted other thins to and with the machinery is a sore spot at Handgrove - and elsewhere I've been told. Louise had broached the subject with Joan many times she told us. But Joan always responded with "Who else is there to do it?" Louise would suggest different people, such as the circulation staff - the nonprofessionals - or the catalogers, but Joan would shoot them all down. "You can't leave the circulation desk unattended?... "You can't expect the catalogers to leave the office and travel to different floors to do it".. "You're always around the area - you ubiquitous reference librarians." So here we were. But I must say this about Joan Cloud. While she can be somewhat intimidating (what boss isn't by virtue of their positions?), she does listen, albeit often with a frown or a smirk. I decided to be - for me (and the others) - bold.

"Joan, we've been good natured about this. And we're here to appeal to your sense of justice and fair play. (I wasn't entirely sure she had either, but what the hell! The director smiled. I was making progress.) "Nowhere in our job descriptions does it say we have to perform this flunky-type work." (I was really getting bold.) "For this we get a master's degree? The only thing that would cover it would be the statement at the very bottom of our job descriptions: 'Performs other duties, as required'."

Cloud half-smiled. "Well, now you know what this bit of crypticism means, don't you?"

We, of course, chuckled - not hard, but politely.

Bindloss spoke up. The cat didn't have her tongue after all. "We're afraid, Joan," she said, "that if we treat this lightly, you'll think we're not serious." ("Good for you, Miriam," I said to myself, "I didn't think you had it in you." We were getting bold. Now if Gilbert could come through, we'd be presenting a united front. No sycophants saying it was all right with them, thereby accumulating rewarded brownie points. Nobody saying, here use my shirt as a rag. Nobody saying I love going around all day looking over people's shoulders, or I love trying to figure this machine out, or whatever you have to do when something happens. No one saying, I especially adore doing this menial work. Imagine a group of non-unionized librarians presenting a united front! Who said there was nothing under the sun?)

There was complete silence for a moment. Cloud resumed her doodling and humming. What did this signify ?, I wondered. Some incipient rumblings in the core of the volcano? But it was Gilbert, bless him, who broke the silence. "Joan, we're not going to do it anymore."

Gilbert Vedder I love you! One for all and all for one, and the fourth, Louise, still to be heard from. I have had good days, but nothing like this. And here I had been thinking Gilbert was a chicken. Keep close to me now. I'm so excited my syntax may be weakening.

Just what the director's reply would have been we do not know, as at that moment Louise stumbled in. "How's it going?" she asked.

"I would say interestingly," replied Cloud, glaring at us each in turn. "It seems you have a mutiny on your hands."

("Why 'you'", I wondered, "and not 'we'." Okay, Louise Reid, I said to myself, let's see what you're made of. The four of us had often complained among ourselves about having to spend so much time on the care and feeding of the massive amount of computers and printers, and how we should march into Joan's office some day and let her have it right between the eyes. Well, here we were. The first volley had been fired. It was up to you, Louise baby, compatriot, co-conspirator, to fire the next.)

Our head of reference, I thought, went a trifle pale. She looked at the director for some moments in silence. One could feel the rise of tension like a physical change in the atmosphere. Reid smiled a quiet, composed smile. "I support them 100 percent," was all she said.

Judge our excitement upon hearing these words! We could have thrown our arms around Louise and planted kisses all over her face.

Joan Cloud was uncertain what to do or what to say. She thought for a moment and then said: "Okay. I'll get back to you."

It wasn't a very satisfactory end to the meeting but we could see it was the end. We got up and left the room

"If I know her at all," Reid said as we congregated around the reference desk, "she'll probably discuss it with one or two of her librarian friends in the consortium. They're meeting on Monday."

I said: "I wonder what they'll advise her to do." And with that we returned to what we had been doing before the meeting. Now shall I describe the waiting time? To those who have done such a thing, no description is necessary; to those who have not, words are inadequate.

What type of planning should have been done to keep this situation from arising? What would you suggest that the Handgrove library do now?

Case written by Dr. A.J. Anderson, Professor Emeritus, Simmons College GLIS