Wednesday, February 15, 2023

Navigating ambition, growth, and emotions

I'm not really sure where to start. It's been a while? I've been busy? I think I've done all of that before. So instead, I think I'll try to jump in and I hope you can follow along.

There are many decisions I made as a young adult that put me on this trajectory. There are many decisions I made even technically as an adult adult that put me right here right now. And yet, here I am, Interim Co-Director of the Library and newly appointed Director of Gender Studies and I have these very surreal moments questioning how I got here and who thought I could be trusted to be in charge. I think these feelings are by no means unique to me, I'm pretty sure I've read almost those exact words from a 40-something before. But I'm still curious about whether this is something that everyone has experienced throughout the history of humans (in bureaucracies?) or if this is something particular to Gen Xers and Millennials, and even those Gen Z folks that are put in charge of organizations already. 

I've never considered myself ambitious, and like many others, I've often said that I don't want to be in charge. I don't want to be at the top, making all of the decisions, being more "professional" than I prefer to be. However, here I am. 

I've been clawing and grabbing for any type of recognition I can get for the library for years. It's yet another well known issue in Higher Ed that librarians generally are unknowns, we are somehow literal blind spots to upper administration. Do we only shelve books? Maybe we need to meet our shushing quota for the week? Definitely we must be very very old fashioned. 

 

Photo by Ed Robertson on UnsplashMaybe you thought that searching the word "librarian" would bring up mostly pictures of librarians? You may be surprised that it's actually mostly pictures of old books. Because that's all we are/do - hang out with old books.
  

 

Of course, those of us doing the work in academic libraries know that we are doing a ton. Some of us more visibly engaged than others who work behind the scenes. This invisibility only hurts us. Keeps us in this category of meek, quiet, old, traditional, and probably unnecessary since everything can be found on Google. Then, sometimes the stars align and my colleague and I are put in charge. 

 I don't think they were ready. My co-director, MC and I manage to blend our skills, experiences, and personalities so seamlessly together that I don't know if there's ever been a stronger team. I am often the passionate and outspoken one - I'm colorful, loud, mostly unafraid to ask the questions that need to be asked. MC tends toward a muted palette of greys, black, and calming neutrals. She is more reserved, rarely saying more than exactly what needs to be said; she kind of skims under the radar and I love it when she does speak up because I know that people are listening. I think we're able to play good cop/bad cop without ever planning to. And lately, maybe we've been spending too much time together, we are switching roles without any needed conversation. 

I've struggled with my anger, frustration, and need for acknowledgement while in this career. I don't understand why we keep doing the same damn things over and over. It hurts to realize that even friends that I'm the closest with think of me as a glorified research assistant. 

But I'm trying something new and different this week. Hopefully the bandwidth and newness don't wear off and reveal my naiveté and my attempt to organize, strategize, and do more. I want to throw my whole self into the work that I love. Because I love it and want campus to understand that even though we aren't a money-making department, we are a force to be reckoned with and probably some metaphorical vital human body part or system (are we the backbone? the nervous system? maybe even the digestive system?). I get it that we all think we're important, so that limelight is a tiny space to bring everyone in to shine.