In 1990 Ernest Boyer made an important contribution to the literature of higher education by authoring the book Scholarship Reconsidered: Priorities of the Professoriate. Boyer’s material was based on the results of a 1989 survey of faculty across the nation sponsored by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. Boyer said we must “…break out of the tired old teaching versus research debate and define, in more creative ways, what it means to be a scholar”. He described four types of scholarship in order to expand higher education’s thinking about what it meant to produce scholarly work; it needn’t be defined only by scholarly monographs or publications in high-impact peer review journals. Boyer suggested that teaching, application, and integration (of existing knowledge) could be as important to the advancement of knowledge and higher eduction as the scholarship of discovery. While Boyer’s work is considered a classic of higher education literature and is essential reading for academic librarians, the ideas in the book never really had much of an impact - at least not in the ways for which Boyer had hoped. Instead the academic community, has for the most part, stayed true to its one narrow vision of scholarship - the scholary journal article or book.

Fast foward to 2008. A new report by the Ithaka Group explores how faculty make use of digital scholarly resources for their research, and some of these resources expand the notion of the phrase “scholarly resource.” In the report Current Models of Digital Scholarly Communication authors Nancy Maron and Kirby Smith explore the range of digital resources being used by scholars for their research. These resources include e-only journals, data, blogs, and discussion forums. About blogs, the report says they are “being put to interesting use by scholars.” Blogs can contribute to scholarship by providing a forum for discussion. They let scholars share new research findings, and commentary can help shape or refine these new ideas. But their informality is also a weakness for true scholarly communication, as complete quality control is neither completely possible nor desirable. Still, blogs offer perhaps the lowest cost model for allowing (fast) scholarly communication. The tension between control/review and openess/informality will continue to challenge the ability of digital resources like blogs or scholarly social networks to obtain credibility as scholarly publications.

That many of the digitial publications covered in the report are not yet accepted as scholary resources is perhaps a benefit to academic libraries. That’s not to say this content isn’t valuable, but just imagine libraries having to take ownership of these digital scholarly resources. We have barely begun to figure out how to preserve e-journals or store and make accessible e-science data sets. Just try to envision our profession coming up with efficient mechanisms for the tracking, storage and preservation of the contents of blogs or scholarly social networks? Would we be up to the challenge? But before we need to cross that bridge the report suggests another role for academic librarians. The report says “By sharing knowledge about independent digital scholarly resources with faculty…librarians can help promote high-quality projects and build the audience for these resources.” While preservation is a challenge, for now the focus needs to be engaging our faculty in the possibility that scholarship could be broadened to allow for new definitions of scholarly resources in the rapidly expanding digital landscape. Who’s going to go first?

My library, and the branch campus where I work, is quite small and in a very rural part of Alabama.  We have about 250 students right now, though enrollment doubled since we opened the new building and we expect it to keep growing.  I’ve been quite busy the last few weeks with a new and rather odd trend, and I’m wondering if it’s demographically based or perhaps caused by a wierd atmospheric disturbance.  Students are coming to me to ask how to do assignments for other instructors.  I’ve gotten used to teaching basic computer literacy, “This is a mouse” or “this is how you print,” or “this is how you make Powerpoint print slides with six on a page.”  We are heavily invested in technology, and almost every class requires the students to do some work within our WebCT/Blackboard framework.  So of course I’m also answering a LOT of questions about how to attach documents and how to use the email system, but I expect that.  Recently, though, the threads of my library life have become a bit more knotty as it appears students are thinking I am nearly all-knowing.  Heh.

Two weeks ago I had a student come in and ask “I have this assignment due, can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?”  I said sure, assuming it was a research assignment and that she needed help with getting started.  Nope.  It was a math assignment.  And it wasn’t that she didn’t know how to print it out, or save it to her jump drive.  She wanted me to tell her how to do the math problems.  I was an English major in college and math is not so much my strong suit!  I recommended that she see her instructor.  She hemmed and hawed as though she thought I was holding back on her.  She was one of the students that I’d helped quite a bit with WebCT and Office 2007, so I suppose I can see why she thought I could be of assistance. Finally I explained that while I was quite capable as a librarian, her needs were of the kind that really should be addressed by her instructor.  She left, somewhat disgruntled, with a promise to me that she would talk to her teacher.

A few days later, I had a student ask me how to do a sociology assignment.  Not research, but answering technical questions about scatterplots and outliers.  ::she shivers::  Nursing students and bone structure, elementary education students and D’Nealian handwriting.  It keeps happening!  Today was the final straw - a student came in and wanted me to show her how to use a website that was required for an assignment.  The instructions were quite clear, and after just a moment I saw that it was a basic online survey to evaluate a student’s computer skills.  She seemed in a panic about what to do, and terrified that she would fail her computer class.  I had her read through the assignment out loud, making comments like “see, you go to this website” and “once you click on the link it takes you to a survey” and said that was really all I could do to help.  She really wanted me to stand there while she did it, but fortunately I had another student waiting at the desk which made for a convenient excuse.

I am fine with helping students navigate websites.  I am fine guiding them to information about D’Nealian handwriting, or telling them what reference book they can use to find a labeled skeleton or some statistical analysis definitions.  But where is the line to be drawn?  If I had walked her through using this website, I would’ve essentially DONE her assignment for her.  Whether by fate, luck, or blessing, I am not a nursing instructor, nor an early education instructor, and DEFINITELY not a math instructor.  But I am comfortable using computers and navigating online, so it’s harder for me to “say no” when students ask for help in those areas.  How do y’all handle students who want you to help them with everything - especially those things far outside your purview as a librarian - even when you may have some knowledge about the subject?

Editor’s Note: Working at an academic institution in Philadelphia had its advantages recently for providing proximity to a significant event - the formal release of the Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Media Literacy Education. My colleague Kristina De Voe, Reference Librarian for English & Communications at Temple University, attended the event. Here she shares some observations and thoughts from the event, along with some useful links. Many thanks to Kristina for contributing this guest post.

On November 11, 2008 I attended the release event for the much anticipated Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Media Literacy Education, a succinct, easy-to-understand document outlining the concepts and techniques for interpreting the copyright doctrine of fair use. Fittingly taking place at Philadelphia’s National Constitution Center and coordinated by The Center for Social Media, The Program on Information Justice and Intellectual Property, and Temple University’s Media Education Lab, the event was attended by fair use stakeholders: educators, students, copyright lawyers, and librarians.

An archived stream of the event is available, but as media literacy maven Renee Hobbs and other panelists spoke on the significance of the Code in terms of both teaching and student learning, I was struck by their sheer call to action. Here is a document that we as librarians can use as a teaching and learning tool with our faculty, our students, and one another.

Whether helping faculty design amazing curricula or helping students with research projects, promoting a stronger culture of fair use within our institutions allows us to help empower our users in accessing and utilizing media rich resources – available from our libraries or elsewhere. It is no surprise to me that comments about the Code from librarians were celebratory (there were cries of “Hallelujah” and even “This rocked my word!”) because too often, I think, we become bogged down by the image of librarians as gatekeepers of information.

This code offers librarians a new role as well as a fresh way for integrating information literacy concepts into practice. For example, the organizers of the event created a corresponding wiki, “Unlocking Copyright Confusion,” filling it with curriculum materials for teaching about fair use, in addition to a space for continued dialogue. Joining in or simply starting a conversation about fair use with educators and fellow librarians just may lead to unexpected discoveries.

Articulating “core values” has been touted by many conference speakers as a magic bedrocky goodness that will shield us from all sorts of scary nasty change that is getting up and roiling all our stuff.

One problem is you have to figure out what your core values are.

My library is up to the core values step in our strategic planning process. At our first meeting I attempted to participate by honestly and openly voicing my views (duh, rookie mistake!), but I think that just prolonged the meeting and earned me dirty looks from my colleagues. At our second meeting I tried the “just keep your big mouth shut” strategy and hoped that it would all soon be over. Of course that didn’t last long, especially when we got up to the part about considering “lifelong learning” as an academic library core value.

Who could be against lifelong learning you say? I’m not against it at all, but is it really a core academic library value? Is a list of core values a laundry list of all the things you are for and want to promote and encourage? Is it really one of our core values to provide services to our students and other adults throughout their entire lives?

Maybe I’m taking “core” too seriously, but I’d argue that our core values strictly speaking have more to do with meeting the information needs that arise from the current classes at our institution. If some lifelong learning needs get met because of that, fantastic!, but lets not overreach and call it a core value. If you asked a history professor if they wanted to instill a love of history such that their students read history throughout their lives, I’m sure they’d say yes. But would they say it’s a core part of what they do? Lifelong learning is a good, no doubt, but it’s something additional. A cherry on top.

My colleagues disagreed with me and contended that supporting lifelong learning is a core academic library value. They said something about we promote the disposition to engage in lifelong learning. I’m not really so sure what that means either. I suggested that perhaps what lifelong learning has to do with libraries is that libraries support independent learning, and for that libraries are useful. So I got the word “independent” added in front of our core value of lifelong learning.

This is what often happens when you write core values by committee. Eventually everyone adds their own words and you have a fairly long list of overly broad and not very readable “core” values that don’t offer too much guidance when really tough decisions have to be made. Then they get put in a drawer and no one ever looks at them again.

This one, however, might actually have some relevance to our collections and services. Like providing database access to alumni (or pushing hard for open access), creating a leisure reading collection, or offering information literacy classes on consumer, health, or political information.

The world would be a better place if there were more lifelong learners and if they had easy access to high quality information. What role should academic libraries play in bringing about such a world?

One thing most of our academic institutions have in common is the familiar alumni magazine. At smaller institutions it might just be a quarterly newsletter. Alumni communications are a primary vehicle colleges and university use to stay connected to their graduates. It’s perceived as an effective way to keep alumni aware of campus events and, of course, to lay the groundwork for donations. And as alumni we all receive them. I even get monthly alumni messages delivered to my e-mail inbox. One thing I can say as the recipient of three alumni magazines that come directly to me, and two others from the universities from which my sons graduated, is that the content of these publications is incredibly varied. Sometimes you run across an article that really captures your attention.

But even I was surprised to learn that the most recent issue of Duke Magazine, the alumni publication of Duke University, has a high profile article on reference librarianship. I can’t help wondering how many alumni are going to actually read it. But it’s a great article with lots of quotes and input from the academic librarians at Duke’s Perkins Library. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the piece begins with a mention of the 2006 Columbia University Library Reference Symposium on the future of the reference desk in which I debated Sarah Watstein of UCLA. The author, Jacob Dagger, also quotes liberally from my 2007 “Pencils Never Crash” column [in The Reference Librarian] on this same subject that I titled “Technology Killed the Reference Desk Librarian“.

Dagger’s article, “Brave New World“, subtitled “Reference Librarians in the Age of Google”, gives those unfamiliar with the current library landscape a highly readable and provocative overview of the challenges academic librarians face when so much electronic information is readily available. He writes:

That the world of library reference is quickly morphing has long been clear. And the debate about librarians’ role is one that resonates among the field’s practitioners every day. It is discussed at conferences, written about in library journals, and batted about by an active community of bloggers. The uncertainty about the future may be unsettling to some, but the potential for technology to change the library world is also clearly invigorating to most in the field. “Any librarian who was afraid of technological change would have left the profession twenty years ago,” says Phoebe Acheson, until recently a senior library assistant on the Perkins Library’s reference staff. “It’s not an age or generational thing. It’s a mindset.” The mission of reference librarians is simple to state, complex to fulfill: Keep the library’s reference materials well-stocked and organized, and help patrons navigate those resources.

We are constantly hearing that as a profession we need to do more to change the stereotype of academic librarians from one of anachronistic old fogies who sit behind desks reading books all day, out-of-touch people shushers or due date book stampers to an image that truly reflects our work, our highly-developed technology and humanistic skill sets and how we make a difference in the lives of our students and faculty. Dagger’s article is a step in that direction. I would urge our ACRL leaders to encourage other college and university magazines to take a closer look and consider reprinting it or developing similar articles for their own institutions. We all know that when many alumni need research assistance they turn to their friendly, old academic library. We need to inform many more alumni that they are a vital part of our user community and that the Internet hasn’t made us obsolete. We are here to help them.

Many thanks to Judith Seiss, of One-Person Librarianship fame, for bringing Dagger’s article to my attention.