example book made with bookr

I was just reading about various mashup tools and couldn't wait to try this one out.  I think it could have great applications in school libraries for media specialists and teachers to share content, but also for students to share their research or original stories.  Once the book is completed, it can be emailed to anyone or embedded in a blog like I did above.

Be forewarned though--once you've finished, the photos cannot be changed as far as I can tell.  I made a mistake in this book and I don't think I can change it.  Also be aware that it's difficult to impossible to work with the site in Firefox.  I had to use Safari.  In any case, it is a very simple way to use free content from Flickr (yours or someone else's) to create something new.  I'm excited about the possibilities.

Check out the archives for lots more ideas!

big box/little libraries

The readings for the urban redevelopment group and the big box bookstore group flowed together surprisingly well for me.  I started with the big box articles.  When I heard that some libraries were organizing their spaces like huge chain bookstores, I didn't really understand where the controversy would lie.  I got that this might involve abandoning the Dewey decimal system in favor of thematic organization.  Maybe I just haven't been a librarian-in-training long enough, but I guess the thought of life without Melvil doesn't get me too riled up.  In fact, this example and one in the Putnam and Feldstein article helped me realize that I am mostly concerned with organizing books to benefit the patrons (though I have not yet taken any cataloging classes and may be eating my words next semester!). 

One of the articles focused on an aspect of this trend of bookstore mimicry that caught my attention: budget.  I really hadn't considered the implications of running a library like a bookstore beyond organization, but the Coffman article suggested that monetary issues might make staffing a library like a bookstore very difficult.  I found myself frustrated while reading this.  When Coffman was comparing relative costs of staffing and running libraries and bookstores, I kept thinking, "Bookstores and libraries are trying to do essentially different things!"  One is trying to sell books, while the other is trying to get books (and other information) to libraries for free.  The bookstore is out for itself; the library is there for the good of the community.  

I thought everything in the Putnam and Feldstein article supported how I was feeling about the Coffman piece.  Libraries are doing something very unique that cannot be done with minimally-trained $7.50 an hour employees.  While it may be that librarians attempt to create "neutral" collections, they are certainly advocating for social progression and positive change.  The Chicago branch libraries in the article are attempting to bridge the digital divide, welcome new immigrants and offer ESL, support students and parents with the "Teacher in the Library" program, and provide opportunities for different races/classes to interact.  One librarian profiled "chose to combine the youth and adult nonfiction sections, since he was sensitive to the fact that adults with a wide range of reading abilities patronized the library".  I thought this article outlined the tools and programs with which libraries can keep themselves relevant,  "a place where people see a reflection of their own culture even as they get access to a wider one".  I probably got a bit too starry-eyed reading the Putnam and Feldstein article: they did not address budgeting issues as Coffman so practically and dutifully did.  But the article depicted "the least threatening public institution" moving in a direction that I'd like to see other libraries go.  When my brother-in-law tried to convince my librarian-to-be husband and I of the obsolescence of libraries, we both stammered something about community centers, job-searching materials, and public computers.  I was so excited to read about libraries in Chicago that are doing exactly what I was trying to describe.

I think it finally dawned on me this week that books (and by that I mean the codex) could actually fade from popularity.  On public radio the other day, someone quoted a projection that over half of books sold could be e-books within ten years.  That blows my mind.  Clearly I've had my head in the sand.

I have not yet gone the way of the e-reader.  Some of that is the cost, but mostly it's lack of interest.  I enjoy holding a physical books (and I want libraries to have something to do with all those shelves).  I do not want to deal with pitfalls such as the dreaded un-numbered pages and lack of search function that plague current models of e-readers.  Mostly I'm content borrowing *free* books from the library.  In my household, if we do buy a book, it's typically because it's a piece of art that we'd like to have and hold.  The Griffey chapter brought up a very valid issue: e-reader producers are currently more concerned with protecting their products from piracy than from making devices and books library-friendly.  Lending books becomes difficult when the books are limited to one device alone.

On the other hand, I have pretty readily taken to reading e-reserves, assignments, and syllabi on my computer, never bothering to print.  And now that e-books are being advertised as playable on computers, iPads, iPhones, and so on, the technology is beginning to interest me a bit more.  I am not particularly convinced that I need an e-reader that can only display black and white.  If I'm going to read books on an electronic device, I'd like it to have the capacity to do something like this:

The Dismissal of Miss Ruth Brown

I'll begin at the end.  Upon reading Robbins' epilogue about the process of writing The Dismissal of Miss Ruth Brown, I saw that Robbins regarded her subject matter very dearly (not unlike author Rebecca Skloot and subject Henrietta Lacks).  Unlike Skloot, Robbins admitted plainly that she was biased toward the anti-racist and anti-feminist perspectives.  I found that this strengthened the reliability of the account. 

That attempt for a balanced hand was evident in the inclusion of both Ruth Brown's positive and negative personality traits and kept me from thinking of Brown as a saint.  For example, when I read that Brown was at times viewed as harsh, strict, and overly frank, I knew that Brown's crusade for racial inequality did not spring from perfection but from a flawed individual trying to do her best.  That said, her lack of concern at the prospect of losing job and reputation was amazingly brave.  As I've researched for my group's project on intellectual freedom, it's been easy to scoff at teachers and librarians who've given into book challenges.  However, I realize that standing up to powerful community members is no easy task.  I wonder what I would do in Brown's position.  I wish I could say I knew I'd do the same as she.

Brown's commitment to free access to materials and to intellectual freedom early on were impressive.  Before the ALA had established a firm stance on intellectual freedom, it seemed to be up to individual librarians to stand up to censorship.  I was actually surprised that so many on the original library board supported Brown's choice to retain controversial materials in the library.  Though that minority may have pointed to the beginnings of intellectual freedom in the library and nationwide, it was disheartening to read of the mistreatment of Brown's supporters.  Many have suffered to bring us the library policies we find so common today.

So, this story was inspiring, but it was also informative.  The book filled in quite a few gaps in my understanding of 20th-century history that I didn't even know existed.  Previously in my mind, World War II, the civil rights movement, the women's movement, and McCarthyism were disparate events.  I was interested to observe the interplay of anticommunism, racism, sexism, and classism that surrounded the events of Brown's firing.  One example was the impact that World War II's fight against racism had in encouraging anti-racist sentiment in American citizens.  On the other side of the argument, anticommunists assumed that African American and liberal organizations had communist leanings.  I had not realized that some of these broad associations stemmed from the communists' efforts in combating racism. 

academic libraries

All this talk about academic libraries has me jonesing to hang out in my alma mater, Cornell College's library.   

Early on in the video, "The Future of Academic Libraries", I picked up on a theme: academic librarians seem to be spreading themselves quite thin, perhaps to justify their existence.  Jay Schafer suggested that libraries might serve as a sort of publisher/printer.  He also brought up digital preservation and access issues related to that.  How about modeling university libraries after the Apple Store?  What should be done about e-books and e-journals?  I am not entirely opposed to any of those ideas (except the publishing one--I didn't get that at all), but I worry that librarians in all settings are becoming jacks-of-all-trades and masters-of-none.

There is no doubt that librarians in this economy need to make sure their jobs are necessary.  My first instinct on how to do this is for librarians to instruct (especially since I'm in Information Literacy Pedagogy right now!).  My impulse was supported when Susan Perry urged academic librarians to focus on digital asset management and teaching.  A bit about digital asset management: I had never heard this term before, but it seems to be just another facet of cataloging.  There are an enormous amount of unresolved issues swirling around this topic, many of which were brought up during Nancy Mulhern's lecture.  Libraries may need to share digital assets, but it's important that those be accessible in some kind of consistent format.  Then there are the questions looming around the Google book project. 

Anyway, teaching is easier to talk about since it's certainly more relevant to me.  And it's certainly important to campus libraries.  Susan Perry said that university students still don't know how to research.  She called for library instruction to be "systematic, but not those boring library lectures", claiming that the term information literacy "turns people off".  Does her suggestion, "digital media literacy", really sound that much more enticing to young people?  This reminds me of the switch from the term school librarian to school library media specialist.  I feel the same way about both: the title really doesn't matter.  As far as information literacy instruction goes, it should include how to find, evaluate, and use information, digitally or physically and should be grounded in the classroom curriculum.  To get the faculty on the side of the teacher-librarian, information literacy instruction has to enhance the curriculum, not take time and attention from it.  It makes a lot of sense for librarians and faculty to "see [the library] as the logical extension of the classroom", though I think it might take more convincing for some faculty members to get on board.  The video suggests that libraries would not only be a resource for print and digital materials, but a place that would foster critical, analytical thinking, most likely through its teaching librarians.

all photos from cornellcollege.edu

To comment on the Apple Store model of organization, I like the idea of libraries as "group study and social centers".  Also the aesthetic of the Apple Store is incredibly pleasing, so I would not mind if libraries drew from that.  On the other hand, Apple Stores are not attempting to organize hundreds or thousands of books and documents, sometimes on different topics.  The Apple gives most every item equal footing/presentation, which would not be useful for libraries.  Besides, libraries already have a "genius bar" at the reference desk and geniuses wandering, ready to answer your questions-librarians!

In the video, "Challenges to Campus Use of the Kindle", I could see the Goldsteins' point--if they're not actually promoting the use of the Kindles and there are no visually impaired students on campus, who does it hurt to test them out?  I even wondered if it's fair to prohibit all students from using a technology tool because of a few who did not have accessibility.  After hearing the second half of the video, I still agree that Princeton wasn't really doing anything wrong, but they weren't doing anything proactive either. 

Marty Ringle's talk about accessibility and technology seemed less about whether Princeton was right or wrong and more about the impact that large institutions like universities can have on the development on technology.  As one measly consumer, I usually assume that my role is confined to accepting whatever developers shove out onto the market.  If it is an insufficient or inconvenient product, I just don't buy it.  I hadn't considered what kind of sway a university might have with Kindle or other technology developers.  I think Ringle's point was that if we accept an e-reader or other tool that is less than fully accessible, movement towards accessibility will be slow or nonexistent.  Further, he said "accessibility tends to benefit the entire community" and I am now convinced that is true.  I was impressed with his examples of accessibiliy features that have made easier the lives of people with many other disabilities, ranging from paralysis to dyslexia.  While it is noble and economically necessary to cut back on the paper used to print digital reserves, universities should not settle for a mediocre digital tool.  They should swing their weight towards technology developers and insist that all students have access to the technology.

I was glad to read "The Nerves of Government" first to fill in some background on government documents and communication, but it sort of led me away from government docs and back to the school library (what can I say?  I'm a SLMS in training!).  I connected Yudof's comments to the way school libraries, as extension of the government, will shape the values of their patrons. 

this will make sense in a minute...

In my research for the group project, I came across an AASL article by Lukenbill that quotes laws "forbidding schools to 'impose orthodoxy in matters of opinions' while still allowing the 'inculcating [of] values,' 'government speech', 'government as educator,' 'educational speech,' and 'strict scrutiny [constitutional review] standards'".  Lukenbill asserts that because the school library is a branch of the government, librarians have the right to educate and guide.  One of these ways to guide would be in book selection that encompasses a wide variety of topics (even controversial ones) and supports the curriculum.  The ideas in that article begin to help me answer a long-standing question about the responsibilities of a school librarian.  On the one hand, libraries should strive to maintain some sort of balance and "neutrality" (I hesitate somewhat to use that word after our earlier discussion on Pawley and Wiegand, heh).  On the other hand, librarians will necessarily have to espouse some kind of viewpoint with book selection, keeping in mind that stocking a diversity of resources denotes a viewpoint.  And heading back to my group's topic, censorship, that particular viewpoint may upset some people in the librarian's sphere of influence.  Yudof describes how politicians walk a line between their dual responsibilities to reflect the values of the electorate and also to educate the public.  In the same way, I feel school librarians must find balance between representing the student body with book selection, but should also seek to teach students about other cultures and viewpoints.

It seems to me that Yudof intends to cast a negative light on government communications meant to inform or persuade.  I wouldn't say that I think government propaganda is a good thing, but I think some of his points go too far.  He says that in government institutions such as schools, the students "lack contact with the outside world and access to alternative sources of information and opinion".  I beg to differ!  If the school librarian is doing his or her job, then the exact opposite should be true! 

scene from "Me and You and Everyone We Know"

I was interested in the idea that technology, which I would assume has given us more freedom, could actually be infringing on our liberties.  I have long been interested in the ways that technology has isolated us and diminished our community ties, while also affording us new and innovative ways to connect to each other.  The movie "Me and You and Everyone We Know" is an excellent illustration of this dichotomy.  And I think of the YA book Little Brother when I consider how new technology could facilitate increased government surveillance.  I had not thought as much about what the internet does for the speed and efficiency of government communication with citizens.  Will the U.S. government soon use adware to spy on our internet use and offer us targeted public service announcements and agricultural ads? 

I have not finished reading Literacy in American Lives, but so far it has made me realize how many factors of literacy I take for granted--both in my own development of literacy and in the development of my students.  First, I tend to ignore the interplay between economic factors and literacy.  While, I understand that some of my students can afford books at home and other can't, I hadn't thought of the way that illiteracy and therefore economic disadvantages are perpetuated through this disparity.  As a public educator, I would like to think that my instruction can somehow "level the playing field" when it comes to breaking the cycle of illiteracy.  On the other hand, teachers know how much a child's background contributes to his or her readiness to learn new information and skills.  In addition, author Deborah Brandt points out that increased and shifting expectations of literacy in schools only widens the gap between the literate and illiterate.  Teachers, and I'm sure students as well, are feeling the pressure of increased expectations, without increased time or resources (and often with less of these).  About this Brandt says:

"The school's responsibility should not be merely--and perhaps not mainly--to keep raising standards, revising curricula, and multiplying skills to satisfy the restless pursuers of human capital.  Efforts must not go only to preparing students for future demands, not should students' problems with reading or writing be defined solely in terms of rising expectations versus insufficient skills.  Economic changes create immediate needs for students to cope with gradual and sometimes dramatic alterations in systems of access and reward for literacy learning that operate beyond the classroom" (pg. 43-44).

From Brandt's quote, I understood that changes in the economy and therefore literacy standards require new ways to approach literacy.  She also wrote that economic hardships loom large in students' literacy experiences and must be considered when attempting to bridge the gap between "rising expectations and insufficient skills".  For me, this speaks to the ways in which certain groups in the school environment are disadvantaged, particularly boys, and more specifically boys of color.  In their cases, not only economics, but race and gender are also factors in their literacy development.  I began to make connections to this issue when examining Brandt's case study of Martha Day and the way Day's white, rural, conservative values were maintained and disseminated through her work in newspapers.  The literacy she developed, embedded within her upbringing, was valued and exploited by those in power to perpetuate the values and literacy of the day.  Stick with me--I'm bringing it back around.  In a similar way, I can see how my white, middle class background (and the literacy that is a product of that background) gave me an advantage in securing employment from those who would like the current form of literacy to continue.  I don't mean to imply that fostering this kind of literacy is a problem.  The problem may arise in the ingrained ways I go about teaching literacy--in the same way I learned to read and write.  The effect of my own background on my teaching is the second factor I tend to ignore.  I may be perpetuating the traditional and accepted form of literacy because of my background, while missing other, less-accepted forms of literacy.  If I am not self-reflective, I may not be providing appropriate pathways to literacy to the marginalized groups in my classroom.  I am reminded again of the "Beyond Diversity" training I attended last summer.  One of the most powerful ideas presented was to show students (particularly students of color) the way to be successful in the dominant culture while allowing them to maintain their identity.  I may be able to accomplish this by acknowledging various forms of literacy that are not necessarily valued in the school setting (I'm thinking standard English versus dialects). 

How will this apply to me as a librarian?  I will certainly have opportunities to support literacy and will need to be careful to consider students' backgrounds when I do so (which can be more challenging when I will see the students far less than classroom teachers).  I will also have the opportunity to work with a shift in literacy that we are experiencing currently.  That is the increased importance of information literacy, which will be a large part of my responsibility as a school librarian.  Learning from past changes in literacy, this new movement will likely continue to be turbulent.  Economic factors will certainly come into play as computer literacy specifically requires abundantly more financial investment in children's homes.  It will be useful to consider how the school library can again "even the playing field" as more and more jobs require at least a basic level of information and computer literacy.

photos from the excellent superbomba flickr photostream

HeLa

I wasn't sure how much I would get from The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, since I had already heard a fairly comprehensive retelling of the story on the RadioLab podcast.  I actually really enjoyed the book, as its depth really added to my understanding of the family's situation and the historical details.  I do recommend listening to the podcast as well as reading the book.  The interviews with Henrietta's daughter Deborah gave her character even more life, even though I thought Skloot's characterization of Deborah was very well fleshed-out.

I thought the format of the book was one of its best features.  The way Skloot unveiled the story by switching from decade to decade, while intermingling medical information with human interest, kept me so engaged that I read almost all of the book in one day.  I also thought that following the reporter through the research process to some extent was smart writing.  I felt Skloot's excitement or surprise or dismay every time she encountered some new information or the family acted unexpectedly.

I wrote in an earlier post that I thought the Lacks children would have reacted differently to the news about their mother's cells had they been better informed and educated by the scientists who broke the news.  I still think this is the case, as evidenced by Deborah's gradually increasing comfort with her mother's cells being used for science over the course of the book.  It was heartbreaking to read about Deborah's anxieties over scientific activities involving Henrietta's cells that Deborah perceived as being physically painful to her mother.  Deborah also should not have been made to worry about having cancer herself when her blood was drawn for genetic testing.  There was a glaring lack of communication about what was being done with the cells from the very beginning, which I think signifies a lack of respect.  This seems to pretty well align with appalling medical research practices that exploited African American populations until at least the 1960s, such as the Tuskegee syphilis studies.

But Skloot ends her book by telling us that regardless of race, class, or any other variable, you are not guaranteed informed consent concerning the use of your tissues.  It was shocking to learn that getting informed consent from tissue donors is not law.  If consent does happen, it's out of the goodness of the researcher's heart.  Financial matters related to tissue use complicate the issue even more.  I do not believe that it was ever George Gey's to make financial gains from HeLa, as his generosity with the early HeLa cells indicates.  This good-natured sharing of resources is what I've always (perhaps naively) thought science was about.  I don't know what I think should be done to compensate people whose tissues bring profits to researchers or medical supply companies.  I do know that it seemed incredibly unjust that Henrietta's cells were making people rich while her family struggled to survive.  Even more frustrating is the idea that researchers could be using Henrietta's cells for years and on such a broad scale without anyone in her family being aware.

No wonder scientists prefer to mentally separate the people from the cells and tissues they research.  Things get far too gray when ethics and obligation come into play.

In thinking about the book and libraries, I was reminded of our conversation about health information in last week's class.  Several times in Skloot's interviews with Lacks family members, an individual would stress that they would not question a doctor's authority, especially when the doctor was white and the patient was black.  It occurs to me that the library and internet, though their medical information may be questionable at times, have wrenched the monopoly on medical knowledge away from doctors and have put it in the hands of the patients.  Although I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about answering medical questions in the library setting, I do feel that simply maintaining a well-rounded health collection could be a way to provide control over health care to patrons and therefore enact social justice.