What I Want in a Librarian (1997)

One New Faculty Member's Perspective This issue's column opens a two-part series on faculty/librarian dynamics. The relationships between faculty and librarians can generate synergy or conflict, so we look to Earlham College for advice. Earlham's bibliographic instruction program and the centrality of is libraries to campus life are renowned. What perspectives foster such success? My colleague, who is French, tells of her first encounter with the Earlham College library system nearly twenty years ago. Erstwhile Director Evan Farber sought her out and told her that, although as a European she might shy away from libraries, he was going to introduce the Earlham library to her. He asked about her courses that term and said he intended to prepare library instructions for them. Although never particularly turned off by libraries, my colleague tells this story with appreciation for the help she got and to assure newcomers that they won't need to hound out help from the library: the library will come to them. As a fledgling faculty member at Earlham, I will vouch for the same spirit of proactivity on the part of librarians today. Couched in friendliness, this spirit has led me to make personal connections with most of the out-front professionals, easing my way in an environment where my learning curve is already taxed. It also reminds me that if I sometimes try the librarians' patience, at least we have built the rapport necessary to help me get over my humiliation and frustration when I fumble around with research tools, forget what and when resources are available, and come in with vague questions and lofty ideas that max out the library's system of logic and even its raison d'etre. Proactivity is therefore the first trait I want in a librarian at my home institution. But, of course, as a do-it-yourself faculty member who has had to master at least one other research environment to complete a degree and to get a job, I also appreciate when that proactivity is tempered with an acute sense of when to back off. In other words, there are moments when I seem to be asking you-the-librarian to know my needs, desires, and schedule even before I do and to produce the appropriate resources. There are others when I want you to be transparent, and heaven forbid if you expect me to make eye contact as I head toward the terminals or shelves. Clear Communication The apparent contradiction in my desire for librarians to be simultaneously hands-on and hands-off is mellowed by two other traits, the first of which is--as in any relationship--clear communication. I particularly need clear communication concerning the limits of a librarian's time and energy in advancing my research. In many ways, you-the-librarian are the colleague with whom I need to collaborate most. I don't expect you to do my work for me, but since you're the person showing me how to use research tools, when I'm out of town or up against a deadline, I'm likely to turn to you for help. Is asking you to look up resources and to copy articles for me legitimate? If I have a reference question, is it okay for me to call you or the reference desk so that the necessary information can be located without my coming in? In most instances, I would guess that such requests ought to be low priority on your agenda. If you do help me in these ways, I won't automatically know when your efforts stem primarily from friendship or primarily from your job description, indistinguishable as these may be. If you go beyond your call of duty once, please don't be offended if I wrongly assume that you are available to help me again in the same way. Since we're likely to determine your limits on a case-to-case basis, please know that I prefer directness over grudging acquiescence; it is not my goal to become your nemesis. As a new faculty member, I also need clear communication about the particular library in which you work. Your role in my use of the library generally swings between two poles. …