You know what? I think I’ll stay for a while.
Last year, just after I made the decision to move on from my library residency program, Jarrett Drake dropped his heartbreaking article, “I’m Leaving the Archival Profession: It’s Better This Way.”
If you are unfamiliar with the article I’ll sum it up into a few points: the archival profession is inherently racist, information professionals support systems of oppression, and there is no real way to dismantle the system without putting yourself at risk for ostracization and disappointment. I remember rereading it a number of times and every single time I would stop at this passage:
“The purpose of the archival profession is to curate the past, not confront it; to entrench inequality, not eradicate it; to erase black lives, not ennoble them. Tigers cannot change their stripes. They are merely adept at blending into their surrounding environment until it is time to strike, and strike it will.” [1]
There is absolutely no way for me, or anyone, to refute this. This is exactly what I teach in my instruction sessions — as long as archives are run by humans we will always be at risk of supporting any form of supremacy.
A year ago, when Jarrett’s article was published, I was questioning my own commitment to academia and whether it was a good fit for both my personality and the contributions I wanted to make within higher education but also my community. Since then there have been a number of groups and examples of scholarly work that address my anxiety and hesitation regarding “culture fit” and labor, from Kaetrena Davis Kendrick’s study on low morale in the workplace, to the creation of We Here, to DLF’s Working Group on Labor in Digital Libraries, Archives, and Museums. These examples examine the toxicity of our workplaces, our practices, and our attempts as a profession to promote inclusion in libraries. While this article may seem like an attempt to contribute to this larger conversation…it’s not. There are folks more qualified and eager to address what’s happening and how things can change (or be destroyed) for the better.
This is in fact, a short departure from these important, but at times bleak, conversations. Well then…what am I actually going to talk about? We’re going to chat about the things that bring us pleasure and satisfaction in our work. The things that make us happy and keep us going, even when we don’t want to. I want to talk about joy. The following is for the folks who have decided to stay in academia, the ones who might come back, and the newbies entering the profession. This is for my friends who cannot be at work without their headphones (read: me), the ones who work too much, and the ones who dread attending department open forums but do it anyway (again — me). Now before we begin I need to be very clear, this article is not about maintaining a “positive spirit or mindset.” I…don’t do that. But, I do recognize the value in taking the time to acknowledge the wonderful and meaningful things that can happen when you love something, even if that something is very complicated.
Before we dive in I think I should rewind a bit. Let me introduce myself — I’m Ashleigh and I work in an archive, which is pretty great. When I’m not battling scope creep I teach primary source literacy, create teaching collections for my both myself and my colleagues, and promote the use of our collections to faculty, departments, programs for qualitative and quantitative research. What I do is risky — I practice and encourage vulnerability both in and outside of the classroom, particularly when I talk to students of all levels about our collection development practices or the lack of people of color in our profession.
It’s super important for my students, and me as well, to have a clear understanding of how knowledge will always be affected by how we “feel” about something or somebody.
When students demonstrate this level of metacognition as we discuss the significance of the objects in our collection, I feel pretty great, accomplished, even. This sensation is, in many ways, a moment of joy.
Mother Oprah defines joy “as a sustained sense of well-being and peace — a connection to what matters … What I know for sure is that you feel real joy in direct proportion to how connected you are to living your truth.” [2] What I like about this definition is that it’s not just about an overwhelming sense of euphoria — this moment of happiness is directly tied to the expression of one’s authentic self. Joy can be grounding and affirming. To dive into this topic a bit more I asked a few of my librarian friends to share what brings them joy, and their responses were overwhelmingly similar:
“I focus on the people. At a white-serving institution, students of color won’t get the same level of service that white students expect. Devoting my energy and attention to them maintains my [passion for] academic librarianship. At the end of the day, we’re here for the students and I can’t deliver the service marginalized students deserve if I engage with nonsense.”
“Librarians love the idea of what we do, but because of other librarians it makes it hard. Working with students is my dessert. If you want to change the system you have to be intentional and place yourself in a role that is able to enact that change. If i’m going to be in this role, I want to continue to stay authentic and do the things that make me happy. My development [as a librarian] has to be in tandem with life-balance.”
“I absolutely love librarianship and truly believe I found my passion as a career. Still there are times where I struggle with differences in thought and injustices I felt as an early career librarian with colleagues or policies. Despite these struggles, I find avenues that help me deal and cope. I am really grateful for the fact that I have mentors and colleagues who have been through similar circumstances. I also appreciate that I have built relationships with colleagues within my institution outside the library. Additionally, I believe finding outlets within the local community, such as the local public library or even community groups has helped me maintain my love for librarianship.”
Like my friends, what brings me happiness is maintaining my integrity, being honest with my students and peers, and providing the space for everyone (including myself) to confront the barriers to practice equity within academia. My students demand to see their stories. They want to know why we haven’t collected these records. Through them, many of us feel confident and are determined to be visible and show our work, even when our workspaces fail to give us the support we need. Jarrett may have walked away from a career in librarianship to pursue a greater dream, and I’ll always respect his decision, but I believe in my students. And for the moment, that’s what keeps me going.
Suggestions for further reading:
Journeys of Social Justice: Women of Color Presidents in the Academy edited by Menah Pratt-Clarke and Johanna B. Maes
When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pena Chodren
The Gratitude Diaries: How a Year Looking on the Bright Side Can Transform Your Life by Janice Kaplan
[1]“I’m Leaving the Archival Profession: It’s Better This Way” By Jarrett Drake. https://medium.com/on-archivy/im-leaving-the-archival-profession-it-s-better-this-way-ed631c6d72fe
[2] “What Oprah Knows for Sure About Growing Up.” http://www.oprah.com/spirit/oprahs-lessons-about-growing-up
