Mutuality as Miscellaneous: Feminist Theology-Library Science Crossover!

Since it's finally summer, and coursework for the year is over, I'm getting to some "fun" reading... which turns out to still be related to my Organization of Information and Resources class (so much so that I think it should have been required reading).

The book is called Everything is Miscellaneous by David Weinberger, and I'm only halfway through, but I highly recommend it--and not just to librarian-types. It's definitely everyone-accessible.

But the interesting thing is not the book itself.

What's interesting is that I'm reading it through the context of feminism and all the feminist theology I've been reading lately (including Rachel Held Evans's "Week of Mutuality" #mutuality2012).

Weinberger explains that there are three types of order:

1. The order of physical things themselves--where things go, like books on shelves.
2. The order of information about the things of the first order--a directory of where things go, like a catalog.
3. The order of digital "things" which take up no space--the removal of the first and second orders' limitations

Weinberger talks about how, historically, people have been bound to ideas of "natural order" or "heavenly order" that, when analyzed critically, turn out to still be established rather arbitrarily. For example, planets are real things that exist in nature, but to classify an entity as a planet, it has to meet certain criteria, and this criteria is just a definition established by astronomers, and the astronomers don't even agree on the definition. Further, some think that the whole concept of a class of "planets" is totally cultural to begin with, and doesn't even translate globally. Weinberger says that "Maintaining a category of planets says less about the nature of our universe than about our need to imagine walking on speres other than our own blue one" (39).

He goes on to show how Aristotelian categorization has prevailed as the organizational structure of choice for millennia, with its hierarchical trees and nesting of smaller categories into larger.

Truly, the Aristotelian system is useful in many ways (if only because its engrained in our collective psyche). But with the rise of the digital age and postmodernity, its cracks are beginning to leak.

I see that this is also true in the patriarchal hierarchy of the church.

Weinberger says that "Classification is a power struggle--it is political--because the first two orders of order require that there be a winner. The third order takes the territory subjugated by classification and liberates it. Instead of forcing it into categories, it tags it" (91-92).

I refuse to believe that this is not as relevant to me as a woman in the church as it is to me as a librarian in a digital context.

There no longer has to be a winner. Men and women (and everyone in between) can live and serve and minister as miscellaneous persons, "tagging" themselves as they are called and doing what they are meant to do.

The first two orders are no longer sufficient for organizing information or society. We are in a new time--historically and in light of the incarnation and resurrection--and we should be liberated by the ability to be miscellaneous, be what we are, without trying to force our new wine into old wineskins. This new wine will burst the old wineskins. Let's allow it to spill out.

Do You Want to be a Librarian?

A librarian friend posted this video on her Facebook this week, and it is awesome. It was shot in 1947, and besides a couple points of blatant sexism is still a pretty good representation of the heart of librarianship. Love!




My favorite part is the guy at 3:09 who's like "I don't know the author or the title, but it's a blue book," and the librarian says, "I think we can help you," instead of punching him in the face, which is what I would have done. OK, not really. But geez. Actually, that's something I've brought up in my metadata class--that the physical description, while not super helpful for organizing, is more important for recall than you might imagine. I've seen more than enough people asking for a certain color book or book with certain cover art to know that sometimes that's really all a person knows, so we should be able to work with that to help them out.

On Self-Branding & Marketing

I read this blog post from thewikiman (aka Ned Potter) about whether it's advantageous to market yourself (answer: not necessarily) and it was really refreshing in light of all the other things I read that are constantly yelling, "YOU NEED TO GET YOUR NAME OUT THERE!" His main point was this: Do what gets you the job you want; anything else is optional.

I'd venture to add do what makes you feel happy and fulfilled, kind of in the same vein of this post.

It's probably mostly self-inflicted, but I'm constantly badgered by these expectations that I need to do more, study more, read more, be more if I want to be successful. I watch my colleagues do big, exciting, important things and think, "Am I even cut out for this? I can't do that." And when I'm really honest with myself, I don't necessarily want to do all that crazy stuff.

And that's OK.

As Potter points out, not all (not most?) libraries or other places you might want to work are interested in big-time awards or a big reputation--they're interested in whether you can do the job you're applying for, and do it well.

This is so comforting to me. I don't have to be famous to do good work. I can do good work--in an area that is fulfilling to me, not one that I feel like I should be in--and that is good enough.

Knowing What Kind of Chemist (or librarian) You're NOT

I took my first look at the preliminary ALA summer conference schedule this week, and immediately got overwhelmed--not only at the sheer volume of sessions and presentations, but at how much of it I just didn't care about.

Panicked, I rushed to the office of my nearest empathetic librarian, and fretted about how maybe I don't want to be a librarian after all. I mean, of course, library stuff is wonderful, and I am--more or less--enjoying school, but it hasn't yet been able to get me excited the way theology does. I don't gobble up readings the same way I did in undergrad. What if I've made a huge mistake???

As she so often does, the wise woman talked me down, saying, "It's not that you don't want to be a librarian. It's that you don't want to be that kind of librarian. And that's OK. Not every chemist is a biochemist."

She's right (of course). I am not fit for public librarianship. And heaven help any child or teen who wants to "book talk" with me. And that's OK. I don't have to terrorize children or teach immigrants how to find a job. I can focus on what I'm interested in and play to my strengths--which are unequivocally situated in academia.

Though certainly not in chemistry.

And I'm sure there will be plenty of conference sessions in which I will be interested.