Interview With a Librarian - Librarian M
Disclaimer: As stated in my post about prepping for this interview, I am an employee of my local library system and Librarian M has previously been my direct supervisor and my head of branch on two separate occasions. In June 2016 until her transfer in August of that year, and again in April 2018 up until she moved to Head of Collection Development in July.
I walk into the Tech Services Department and stick my head into the first office door. Librarian M beckons me in and I laugh seeing her space heater on the floor. It finally touched below 60 that morning and felt like fall for the first time.
“You people and your heaters!” Librarian M laughs back and tells me that she gets cold. I settle into the other chair in the room and open by asking how long has Librarian M been a librarian. She thinks about it and states that she became a public librarian in January 1993. Comparing it to my own age, I surmise that she’s been at it for 26 years. The most recent twenty of those years have been here at Middle Georgia Regional Library System. The system includes 13 libraries in 9 counties. Washington Memorial Library is the system headquarters. In July 2018, Librarian M took over the position when the previous librarian went back to academic libraries.
“How did you get started in Collection Development?” Completely straight faced, Librarian M tells me that it’s OCD.
“REALLY?!” I always knew that she was OCD, it’s been a long running joke. But as she describes that she used to freak out over the mistakes in the catalog that she felt powerless to fix, I smile and respond,
“You’re making yourself sound like a control freak…” She confirms that that is exactly the case. She likes to be in control of her own little section of the world and not step on others’ toes. It’s what pushed her into management and then Collection Development; she couldn’t fix the things that bothered her as a Reference Librarian. She states that every person in her position before herself received e-mails about something or other that required looking at in the catalog. I look on in awe.
“I couldn't ever do that! Every time I had those questions, I was told that it was above my pay grade.” Never by her of course. Here I am sending similar e-mails now.
“How often does the system weed?” She tells me that it’s whenever they feel like it. When the shelves get too tight, information is out of date, or books look like they have cooties. Informal small scale weeding keeps the need for major weeding projects unnecessary. Branches have scanned their shelves to determine what’s been marked missing but is on the shelves, ensuring that items are where they should be, etc., but in the 20 years she has spent in MGRL, Librarian M has not experienced a formal, planned, full scale weeding of the system as a whole.
“What does your Collection Development Policy say regarding weeding?” I assure her that I’ve seen the Collection Development policy. She agrees that it hasn’t got anything in it currently.
“What are some of the criteria you use?” Again, Librarian M starts by citing cooties. While she hasn’t described them fully, I’ve been a prepubescent girl; I get what feelings cooties evokes. I don’t want those on my books either. The condition of the book is important. So are the age, relevance of information in non-fiction and reference works, and the number of circulations since the item was added to the catalog. Unloved books that are still in decent condition get offered to our other branches and affiliates. If a change in scenery doesn’t help, then the item gets withdrawn from the catalog.
“Does the branch/system use a particular method or system?” C.R.E.W. Because of course we use C.R.E.W. It’s the gold standard of weeding regimens. I laugh and tell her that I missed the weeding discussion at staff day two years ago. There was a scheduling mishap and I didn’t get to attend it. The librarian giving the talk had found this amusing, but passed along the info. Ever prepared, Librarian M handed me a copy of the handout from the seminar. Flipping through it, I saw something that I had never seen before.
“Over circulation? Is there such a thing?” At this point she explains cooties. She tells me to think particularly of our well-loved Urban Fiction collection. How some of them have circulated upwards of 70 times. Think of the feathering covers, the grubby condition of the pages, cracking spines, and single leaves, if not whole chunks, of story missing due to failing glue.
“Cooties. A book that you wouldn’t want to touch. Those items have over circulated and need to be removed and possibly replaced.” I get it. I shudder citing some of the children’s books I’ve handled over three years. She nods, seeing that I get it.
Every branch has an assigned day to send bins of discarded books to keep weeding continuous. The RV branch recently underwent a full-scale weed and were allowed a few more tubs a week during that time to facilitate the process. At our most recent Staff Day, we learned that the weeding paid off. In the past year, the branch’s collection circulated upwards of twice in the past year.
“Does the community ever comment on weeding?” She’s never heard of something being said to the staff, but she has occasionally overheard people at the annual Old Book Sale question why the library had chosen to ‘get rid of’ a book not realizing that staff was in earshot.
“I’ve read in an article that there are two types of weeders: Type A weeders who get rid of materials with confidence and no remorse, and Type B weeders who agonize over each decision and second guess everything. While I have a feeling about you, which type do you see yourself as?” As I guessed, Librarian M firmly states that she’s indeed a Type A weeder. However, she clarifies that it’s a progression from B to A. She recounted the first time her manager had her weed a book in her early days. She understood the theory of weeding as learned in library school, but putting it into practice was like asking a mother to her rid of her babies.
“And you don’t ask a mother to get rid of her babies!” She insists that over time, even the most reluctant weeder gets over the guilt. Again, cooties are a major defining factor.
“What’s your worst weeding nightmare?” With complete seriousness, she tells me that it’s mold. That it risks spreading to other items in the collection. The potential worst culprit is Stachybotrys. Then she proceeds to terrify me. She recounts a news story she watched in which a family was found to have Stachybotrys in their home due to a continual leak that they had been fighting with the insurance company to fix. The family members began having neurological difficulties in the form of memory trouble and seizures. Their home could only be demolished with all of their possessions inside. The case against the insurance company is still pending.
“Mold is my new worst weeding nightmare, thank you. You’d seen my previous one come to pass though.” I was afraid of weeding a book only for someone to ask for it. This happened this summer, but we were able to order an omnibus edition of the series in question. Librarian M cited that it might even circulate better that way!
“Any advice for reluctant weeders?” She sighs with a smile. “Get over it.” She goes on to assure me that it gets easier. That once someone understands why they’re reluctant to weed, understands their options for replacing the books on the shelves and their biases regarding who belongs on the shelves, you better understand.
“Any tips or resources to share?” C.R.E.W. again. Always C.R.E.W. She also recommends using one’s staff. You never know who’s got an interest in a particular topic and can help you keep that part of your collection current. They can help you identify the old standards versus what could be new, flashy, or just plain bunk. They can also help you determine what will circulate.
I thank Librarian M and wave her off to her next meeting… Only to race back ten minutes later to retrieve my purse and say see ya Monday!
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