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crosslegged and thoughtful November 12, 2009

Posted by Jenica Rogers in Libraries, Library As Place, Musings, Users.
3 comments

Usability.  Great buzzword in libraries right now.  I think we’re not at all certain what it all means, but we care about it…

I’m thinking about usability in libraries from the perspective of usability everywhere.  What do I mean by that?  Two examples.

I shop online a lot, because I live in an area where my brick-and-mortar shopping options are limited.  And so that means I shop from my couch.  And when I shop from my couch, I am always filled with glee when I can PayPal something, or use my Amazon account, because it means i don’t have to get up to go find my wallet to enter a credit card number.  Does that mean I’m lazy?  Possibly.  Does it mean that I have more loyalty to sites that allow me to shop with the fewest inconveniences?  Absolutely.

I’m also writing this while sitting in Hancock Airport in Syracuse, sucking up free wireless.  That?  Is awesome.  I’ve gotten used to paying between $8 and $15 per day for airport wireless, and while I’ll do it if I need to work, I don’t appreciate it.  Free wireless makes me smile, and like flying out of Syracuse.  However, I’m also sitting crosslegged on the floor next to a pillar.  I forgot to charge my laptop before I left home, and the only power outlet I can find in this terminal is  nowhere near a chair.  Fine.  I’ll sit on the floor; I don’t actually mind, given that I’m going to spend the day on airplanes.  But a chair would be nice.

And so.  Back to libraries.  What extra steps are we putting in the way of our users getting from point A to point B that aren’t onerous, but might be inconvenient?  Do those steps have to be there?  And what are we missing when we think about services our users want and need?  Are we providing wireless but no power?  (That works as a metaphor, but sad but true, it also works very well literally in many of our aging facilities.)

I ponder, as I sit on the floor.

Crisis and Creative October 20, 2009

Posted by Jenica Rogers in Leadership, Libraries, Management, Musings, Project Management, work life.
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A personal obligation — doctor’s appointment — kept me from attending a meeting at the library this morning.  I was busily feeling bad about that until I had a conversation with one of our IT staff as I grabbed a breakfast sandwich on my way to my office.  We were just chatting about learning curves and transitions and deciding when things are a crisis and when they’re just going to have to be handled by someone else…

And I flashed to this post, The Crisis and The Creative, by Rands in Repose, that I read last week.  He starts by saying, “If you polled my team about my daily agenda, they’d say, “He’s either running to meetings or in meetings.” Glancing at my calendar confirms this: 14 meetings this coming Monday – double-booked for five of them. Sweet.”  Okay, yes.  I’m hooked.  That’s me.  I read on.

The part I liked most when I read it last week was:

Whether it’s Crisis or Creative, activities in these buckets run hot. Whether I’m making sure that someone isn’t going to quit or I’m jump-starting a brand new project at a time when no one has a free second, when I’m working the edges, it’s fast and furious. The issue is that I’m responsible for a lot more than just the work that’s running hot.

See those boring lines in the middle between Crisis and Creative? That’s an important part of the model. Items in the middle are the silent non-Crisis, non-Creative responsibilities that are my team just making it happen. It’s all very important work, but it’s work that occurs with very little investment from me because I’ve hired, manage, and work with competent people who excel at what they do. The middle isn’t responsibilities that I’ve delegated and need to check up on, this is work the team just does, and to understand how to get the work there, you need to understand the edges.

And what I realized as I stood there, waiting for my sausage-and-cheese-on-an-english-muffin-please, is that today’s meeting, unavoidably double-booked with my doctor, is about something that I had delegated (or my predecessor had, actually) that had reached a crisis and needed checking up on — but I didn’t have to be at the meeting to do it.  I needed to declare that this crisis could be solved by someone else, people who are competent and excel at what they do, so long as they reported it back to me when they’d figured it out.

Because, really?  I need to finish some Creative work.   I really really really need to finish some creative work.  Performance goals.  Vision and mission planning. Strategic reorganization.  Service and communication plans.

And I’m the only one who can do those things.  I’ll need help, and will be consulting and revising and editing for a while — but I can’t consult, revise, or edit unless I have the things down on paper.  And I can’t put them on paper if I’m hopping from crisis to crisis.  I have to trust the middle, and I have to let the middle handle some of its own crises.

And I do trust them; I work with wonderful people who are very good at what they do.  But I suspect we’re all testing each other’s boundaries a bit, figuring out where The New Boss wants to be involved, needs to be involved, and is willing to be involved.  So I’m going to set a boundary for myself.  Let the middle work.  Ask the middle to manage some of its own crises.  Divide my time more evenly between Crisis and Creative.  It’s the only way to make it work, I think.

And the giant piece of paper covered in marker-ed post-it notes that represent the possible ways we might reorganize our administrative structure won’t get more interesting on it’s own, so I need to give it some love.

Rambling about possessiveness August 25, 2009

Posted by Jenica Rogers in Libraries, Musings, Users.
7 comments

I’ve been in the President’s Leadership Retreat for the past two days, with the rest of the College’s senior administration.  Lots of big picture thinking about strategic goals, long-term planning, student recruitment and retention, fundraising, and finances.  And a lot of cameraderie, too; this campus has a very strong community in a lot of different directions, and the goodwill and general affection that resonate between this group of people is an indicator of why that’s true through so many other facets of campus life, as well. Trickle-down attitudes, if you will.

One interesting facet of these two days, as I reflect on them, is that I haven’t talked about the libraries nearly at all, in our big-picture discussions.  I’ve set up two appointments, talked to another Director about a mutual problem, chatted with several colleagues about construction issues, and reconnected with faculty members who were gone for the summer — all in my role as the Director of Libraries.  But I haven’t talked much about the libraries.  I’ve listened, and studied documents, and when relevant, talked: about student retention and recruitment, about campus programs, about finances and goals… I know I’ve contributed substantively to the discussions about our campus, just not by insisting we speak about my area of expertise.

And that’s absolutely okay.  If the libraries and our skill set and services were relevant to the discussion of our campus needs, I’d be sure to make certain that was brought up.  But in these particular moments, it wasn’t relevant. What was relevant was having a group of engaged, interested, and dedicated administrators looking at issues that matter to our communal future in broad, orer-arching strokes.

In a recent meeting, a library staff member referred to a library project as being “mine” while describing it, and I stopped and corrected, “It’s not ‘yours’, it’s the library’s.”  I felt a bit mean correcting that comment, because in some contexts, I honestly appreciate that kind of perspective and understand it — I sometimes think about projects as mine, of the Libraries as mine, about new ideas as being mine — because I think it indicates a certain kind of dedication and investment that’s both personal and proprietary, usually in good ways.  The things we take ownership of and cherish are things we give of ourselves to promote.  But there are limits to possessiveness, productively, which is why I chose to make that verbal correction.  We may do things because we’re personally invested, but we must always also know that what we do, we do for the College, in service of our mission to educate students.

Which is why I like days like today.  I’m in this group of planners and thinkers because the Libraries, and by association, their Director, are a valued part of the institution.  I’m participating in these discussions not because the Libraries are key to them, or set to gain or lose from the direction of them, but because even though my responsibility is for management and leadership of the Libraries, my responsibility in doing that is ultimately in serving the greater good of the College.

Because the Libraries aren’t mine, or even ‘ours’ in the context of the staff: The Libraries belong to the College, which supports them in service of our students.

It’s a good reminder in the week before those students return.  When they show up, our world changes, both for the better and for the more chaotic.  Things are going to go wrong, be messy, be hectic, and stress people out for the next two weeks.  Students will have holds on their accounts because of library fines, users will appeal existing fines, we’ll push our technology to its limits and see where it fails, and we’ll spend a lot of time assisting with email accounts and Blackboard and the printers.  We’ll get frustrated, and stressed, and at times defensive.  We’ll also get the satisfaction of helping a student get to their next class on time, of providing that friendly face that makes someone’s day a little bit better, and of giving a job to a student worrying about money.  We’ll go home each day knowing we helped our users.

We do it for them.  Not because the Libraries are ours, but because the College is theirs.

What have I been up to? June 30, 2009

Posted by Jenica Rogers in Leadership, Libraries, Management, Musings.
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I believe in transparency.  I’ve said that many times, in many different venues, and I’ll say it again.  I believe that most people are doing their best given their understanding of how they fit into the overall goals of their organization, and that people can do better work when they understand those goals and that fit.  People can only understand those things if they have the information that will let them create that understanding.  Not just the “need to know” information, but lots of information.  All the information, if possible and helpful.  The more you know, the more you can understand…

The problem with fostering a culture of sharing lots of information is that it takes a lot of time.  Lots of talking time.  Lots of listening time.  Lots of typing time.  Lots of reading time.  Being well-informed, and informing others well, is a time-intensive task.

So that’s what I’ve been doing lately, for those who are wondering: Lots of talking, listening, typing, and reading.  Learning about my new responsibilities, learning about the work of others, learning about issues important to the College as a whole, learning about my colleagues, coworkers, and peers.  Learning in service of fostering an environment of transparency that can in turn foster independent critical thinking.

Because that’s what we do, right?  Foster independent critical thinking?  I mean, we’re a library at a liberal arts college.  What better goal for our own growth and development could I ask for than one that matches our goal for the growth and development of our students?

*talk talk talk* *listen listen listen* *type type type* *read read read*

It doesn’t leave much time for other things right now, as I progress through my learning curve, but I believe it’s worth it.

See you on the other side May 15, 2009

Posted by Jenica Rogers in Leadership, Libraries, Misc., Musings.
8 comments

DailyPic 5/15: My last day as "just a librarian"

Today’s my last day as “just a librarian”.  I don’t feel any different, but I know that people are going to treat me differently, expect different things of me, and view me as a different person, because I’m crossing an invisible line of authority.

Still just me, though.  Really.