Jim doesnāt want you to read this.
āThe less in print about alternative librarianship the better,ā he says. āA librarianās place is in a library, period.ā
Jim doesnāt want you to know that heās a former college librarian who currently earns over $175,000 (US) per annum as a communications consultant specializing in corporate intranet management. As his client base grows, Jimās company prospers and diversifies.
āI got tired of telling semi-literate adolescents how to look up trivia. My salary did not allow me to plan very far ahead. I was sick of being in debt. So I moved on, and I donāt regret it for a moment. But that doesnāt mean other librarians should follow my example. They should stay put. And thereās no reason to quote me on this topic.ā
Sorry, Jim. There are good reasons for librarians to know about your work, your rationale for moving on, and alternative librarianship in general.
The term itself is imprecise. What is āalternative librarianshipā? Definitions vary. Many practitioners who could be described as alternative librarians resist the label.
āWhy is consulting considered āalternativeā?ā says Ken, a library services consultant in Toronto. āI never wanted to work in a public or academic library, but I still see my work as mainstream. I call myself a librarian, and I have the same credentials as anyone at a library.ā
Ken is certain that the distinction between a standard library job and an alternative library career is bogus.
āThe majority of librarians use approximately the same broad knowledge base. I deal with many of the same problems and issues that a public librarian deals with ā the lack of availability of materials, the Internet, and the difficulty of finding current information on various subjects. In fact, I find the āalternativeā designation to be somewhat patronizing.ā
In North America, any librarian in an information-based job not traditionally recognized as standard or ānormalā could be considered a practitioner of alternative librarianship. Often these practitioners rely on libraries for their revenues.
āIām a fundraiser for charities and non-profit institutions,ā says Wendy, who graduated from the University of British Columbia School of Librarianship in the early 1970s. āI started out as a library fundraiser, but market demand for my services forced me to branch out. These days only 40 per cent of my clients are libraries. Raising money for a public library demands a thorough knowledge of library administration and budgeting, systems and other technical services, personnel issues, and library use patterns. And then you have to know how to promote the library, which is very different from a university or opera company or hospital. The corporate sponsorship of a library must be handled gingerly. You canāt have a companyās logo stamped on every title page and terminal screen, but you must find ways to boost the companyās profile. If I were to quit this job, I suppose that I could work as a United Nations negotiator in a war zone. The stress levels are about the same.ā
Other alternative practitioners have little or no library business. For example, Paula is a corporate records manager and Internet security specialist in Calgary. Although she appreciates the library science training she received at McGill University, she does not depend on library connections for any aspect of her job.
āI take my son to the local library for childrenās programs, and while Iām there I find my husband mysteries and thrillers. But my professional work is distant from traditional librarianship. Iāve had to learn a lot more about electronic networks and security issues than most librarians will ever have to think about. I attend the occasional library conference to see old friends. For business purposes, however, I go to computer trade shows where Iām probably the only person with a library degree. Iām not complaining. My income increases every year, and I receive perks that most public librarians can only dream about. I believe that higher salaries motivate many traditional librarians to pursue alternative careers.ā
Roger provides evidence to the contrary. He left a lucrative corporate library position in Toronto to become a book dealer specializing in modern first editions.
āI love what I do. I donāt even think of it as work,ā he says. āMy house is my office. I have around 200 clients, mostly private collectors, to whom I sell top-quality editions of novels and poetry. Signed copies of works by recent American authors bring in my basic income. Occasionally I acquire and sell something very special. Earlier this year I sold a couple of Hemingways with delightful inscriptions ā wonderful stuff that flew through my hands in a couple of days. But I donāt earn as much as I did in my corporate library days, and Iāve lost my benefits package. Still, Iād never go back.ā
Roger exemplifies the practitioner who is obliged to retrain himself midway through his career.
āI went from special librarianship to rare book librarianship,ā he says. āNow I use the same resources as any rare book curator: dealersā catalogues, auction records, and bibliographies. Iāve learned standard prices and basic conservation techniques. Iāve gone against the grain of modern librarianship in that Iāve moved from high-tech information management to low-tech bibliomania. Itās a Ludditeās life.ā
The opportunity to learn something new attracts many librarians to alternative careers. In 1985, Sarah left her childrenās services position in Vancouver to develop a practice catering to British Columbia seniors, particularly those living in institutions.
āIt started as an experiment. I approached several private hospitals with a proposal for adult story-times. One 20-bed facility agreed to let me perform for a seniorsā coffee-time group. I read them a pair of short stories by Somerset Maugham. They loved it, and so did I. One elderly gentleman in a wheelchair wouldnāt let me leave the coffee room until I promised to return. I came back the next day, and in a sense I have never left.ā
Directors of hospitals, community centers, and seniorsā day programs find funding for Sarah in their entertainment and recreational therapy budgets. Families of bed-ridden (or āhome-basedā) seniors pay her to make house calls. She reads Leacock to church groups and Saki to ladiesā auxiliaries.
āIāve worked hard to develop my offerings and my market,ā says Sarah. āI experimented for a couple of years with storytelling and reading techniques that are appropriate for audiences of seniors. Iāve taken on difficult assignments ā for example, in hospices.ā
āI find seniors to be the most challenging and least forgiving audience. They expect you to be at your best every minute, and theyāre unwilling to cut you any slack. But they pay attention to every detail, every nuance. So I ham it up as much as possible, render dialogue in different accents, and use dramatic silence and comic timing whenever I can. My audiences of children were easier to please and much more predictable, but now Iām hooked on service to seniors. And I think that with an aging population there will be an increasing demand for this kind of service. The library profession must recognize the demographic trend and adapt to older usersā needs.ā
Sarah has developed a series of seniorsā programs that she has recently started to offer in the United States. Especially popular are her workshop on journal writing and personal history, her presentations on memory improvement, and her introductory lectures on genealogy.
āI took a couple of courses on manuscripts and archival management when I was a library school student,ā explains Sarah. āThese courses turned out to be far more useful than I had expected. Seniors are often very concerned about their personal papers and the accounts of family history that they will pass on to their grandchildren. They want to get their facts straight. Some of them want to leave behind stories of a confessional nature that they donāt want to circulate before they die. Iām constantly considering ethical questions as they arise from family history projects. Iāve also had to become proficient at setting up tape recorders and video equipment.ā
Organizing and leading book discussion groups and film clubs for seniors is one of Sarahās favorite programs. She compiles reading and viewing lists, finds background materials, photocopies handouts, and makes sure that there are enough chairs and coffee cups.
āReading clubs can be extremely popular in seniorsā centres,ā says Sarah. āThey can also be exhausting to manage. When a group starts a lively discussion, they may see no good reason to quit. And sometimes people argue. Last year in an extended care home I almost had to stand between two very old women who couldnāt agree about Madame Bovary. One woman thought that Flaubertās heroine was merely misguided; the other swore that she was hopelessly immoral. I started to worry about the possibility of mayhem, since both of these old dears were armed with a cane. Fortunately they calmed down when their lunch trays arrived.ā
Most alternative librarians believe that their ranks will grow in regions where library jobs are scarce. Wendy, Paula, and Sarah think that their work could broaden the intellectual base of librarianship and establish new forms of professional activity.
āItās good to see library schools offering courses on alternative librarianship and encouraging students to investigate different forms of employment,ā says Wendy. āI think that library school instructors are open minded about non-standard forms of information work. Certainly theyāre talking about it a lot more these days.ā
Jim wonāt be happy when he hears about this.
(1998)