New Professionals Conference, Manchester, 2011

Every discipline has its jargon. The favoured form in librarianship would appear to be the initialism. Consider, for instance, the CILIP CDG NPC. Such strings of letters are by no means meant to alienate: their purpose is simply to abbreviate. But my initial uninitiated reaction to library initialisms has indeed been one of alienation. This, coupled with my conception of the term "New Professional" (which conjures for me an image of '80s yuppies listening to Sadé), did not fill me with enthusiasm for the event in question. My interest was only raised by the news that my girlfriend had been selected to be one of the speakers. This detail alone was sufficient for me to sign up for a place. But I was still sceptical.

Things changed with the release of the conference programme. It was not that I was suddenly inspired by what I saw; indeed my first reaction was to glaze over somewhat. But when asked by my aforementioned girlfriend to consider the programme again, I realized that I was coming into this with completely the wrong attitude: I was branding it with my preconceptions and biases. I may well have found some of the terminology involved alienating but that was no reason to assume that the event itself should be an alienating experience. Indeed, the more I gave the matter serious thought, the more it occurred to me that this conference ought to be a positive thing. I began to adjust my attitude and soon found myself looking forward to going.

A key factor in this change of heart has been the growing sense, discussed in my last post, that I need to get a grip on my library life (and to an extent my life in general) and put myself out there into the wider community. As I begin to consider what might be the next move in my career, I find the time has come to leave the hermitage of my little box and embrace what lies beyond. In this spirit I began to see the New Professionals Conference as an opportunity to launch myself among my peers. It would be a débutante ball of sorts!

Like any deb', my primary concern in the weeks ahead of the conference was not so much Matters Library as Matters Livery: the great question occupying my mind was "what should I wear?" Laura Steel has already mentioned in her account of the day that she was advised to wear "a statement piece" : "a useful thing to do as it means people will approach you". I was musing along similar lines, and at the same time I was determined to accurately express myself and my tastes. This would be my first real encounter with my wider peer group and I really wanted to get it right. My initial consideration of twinset and pearls I ultimately deemed too whimsical, and while there were a few dresses I'd've loved to have worn, I thought perhaps they would've been statements too far. In the end I settled on a cute top, jeans and a big floral scarf. In hindsight the latter wasn't such great conference-wear as it kept covering up the namebadge! But the outfit seemed to fit in ok, and I had a number of compliments on my purple hair, for which I was most grateful! Next time, though, I think I definitely need to get myself a gorgeous novelty handbag like Laura's teapot!

I am not good at small-talk, which is, in part, what attracted me to the stereotypically silent sphere of libraries! Networking is not something that fits easily with me. But I gave it a go and chatted with several people I'd never met before. For the most-part, though, and with a certain degree of inevitability, I tended to gravitate towards old colleagues: this conference was the first time I'd seen several of my friends in the best part of a year and I was not going to let the opportunity pass uncelebrated. It came as little surprise then that by the end of the evening the same four usual suspects from last year's MA course were the last in the bar at the post-conference drink! It is a shame that the night could not have gone on longer, but such are the rigours of employment...

There was, of course, more to the New Professionals Conference than cat-walking and socializing! There was some stuff about libraries, too. And although this had not been (with the exception of the presentation that had secured my attendance in the first place) my main source of enthusiasm ahead of the event, I found myself becoming fully engaged with what the speakers had to say.

My Sheffield colleagues, Samuel Wiggins and Laura Williams were one of a pair of student duos stepping up to the plate. Their question: What makes an information 'professional'? essentially sought to address my Sadé prejudices head-on, and it was fascinating to see some of the received opinions unearthed by their study, not least a discernible divide twixt public and academic fields on the value of qualification against experience. My own personal view falls more towards the public perspective than the academic: I've seen and heard many a case of inexperienced graduates trying to prove themselves in walks of life, disregarding the voices of experience, and generally making a bit of a mess. That is not to say that Library School does not have its value. But I certainly entered it with the mindset that it's more a hoop to jump through than anything else, and while there have been many things I have gained from it, I can't help but think that the lessons I've learnt on the library floor will put me in better stead than those I've learnt in the classroom. This angle was picked up in a Q&A session: given rising tuition fees, can one reasonably justify qualification as a legitimate hoop through which to pass, or will Librarianship become a job for the rich? This question is given more weight when one considers another aspect of the Library Professional as identified by Wiggins and Williams: that many librarians find the trade by accident. As my previous post described, this was certainly the case with me, and it seems to be a general trend. To what extend does this accidental librarianship jar against £9k tuition fees? There seems to be little sense among college students of libraries as a vocation, so, without serious promotion to that cohort, an undergraduate form of the qualification seems dubious. As for postgrad, there would be no way that I would have taken the MA if it cost more than £5k, even accounting for various grants and payback schemes. I applied far too late for any free money, and had no desire to get into debt. The question, then, seems a legitimate one.

This brought us, inevitably, to CILIP, and all things Chartership. I am not a member of CILIP, and I rather suspect that, for all its benefits, Chartership is a bit of a racket with just the faintest whiff of dodgy handshakes and the old boy's network. That's not to say that I won't be doing it, and I fully intend to join the institute before my student days are over, if only because the student fees are comparatively cheap. But I have been unimpressed that in the early days of the current public libraries crisis, CILIP were worryingly mute. It's taken Voices for the Library to usurp dear Perkins as mouthpiece of choice. One might also point to the comparatively low pay of librarians as another indication of CILIP's weakness as a trade body. Of course, an organization's strength depends somewhat on its active membership, and it is all too easy to call it from the terraces. One thing upon which did seem to be general agreement from where I was sitting was the point made by Rachel Bickley that the CILIP membership rates need an overhaul: there appears to be too high a step at too low a level. It can only act as a deterrent to joining.

Rachel's presentation was of particular interest to me, and not purely along nepotistic grounds! Hers was another investigation into the concept of the "New Professional", this time from the perspective of experienced librarians: "old pros" if you will. An insight into the preconceived notions, held by the sort of people who will soon be interviewing me, as to what constitutes a library graduate (such as I will hopefully soon be) cannot help but be of considerable value. The need for practical skills appeared yet again: not least cataloguing and classification (something apparently disregarded as a triviality at my university). It was comforting in a way, for an old curmudgeon like myself, to see the wise elders note that youthful enthusiasm may all too easily spill over into naïvity. There was also the useful insight that graduates can be too self focussed: ask not what you can do for the library; ask what the library can do for you.

Curiously controversial from Rachel's study has been the allegation made by experienced librarians that the New Professional cohort are in some way cliquey. As I type, my Twitter timeline tickertapes uncontrollably beneath the hashtag #cliquegate. I must confess that I have found the debate somewhat bewildering. My first paragraph of this blog, written before the clique discussion hit twitter, demonstrates my own sense of alienation, and some of the responses to the allegation that a clique exists seem only to confirm the perception. My efforts this week go some way to proving that this is not an exclusive bubble; indeed I feel confident that library graduates, and the library community as a whole, are a friendly and accommodating lot. But LISNPNs and #UKplings and other terminology de jure ('New Professionals' itself being, in my case, a case in point) are unquestionably jargon, and jargon, alas, excludes. That is not to say that it should not be used (jargon is but a field of language yet to be learnt), nor is it to say that New Professionals should not engage collectively; there is great benefit in so doing. The lesson, I feel, is not to engage exclusively; to be mindful of a wider community, not just of older professionals, but of those graduates, students and trainees who for one reason or another feel themselves to be outside the conference contingent of twitter-twinsetters. Cliques are allowed, but they must not become the centre of their own universe.

This sense of reaching out was something highlighted in another presentation at NPC2011: that of the day's second student pairing: Ka-Ming Pang and Joseph Norwood. They were examining the role of the student in library activism and engagement, and I found myself engaged once again. These two pairs of students -- direct peers of mine -- were inspiring. Why wasn't I up there getting involved? The thought had never in the slightest occurred to me. But it had occurred to these four and I am very impressed. Indeed, everyone who spoke at the event has become something of a role model to me. I'd like to thank you all.

Megan Wiley's depiction of the lot of a librarian in a higher education careers service was another presentation that drew upon others' notions of library professionals. Librarians in non-library environments may well be seen as nothing more than glorified secretaries or receptionists, and in a world of limited resources it therefore becomes important to stress the complexities of the work involved: to educate ones co-workers to the value of ones role. People are not psychic, even the people who employed you, and so a librarian should not assume the intricacies of the job are widely understood. We all at some point will have held the image of a librarian as a book-stamping pair of tweedy spectacles, and while I personally have no problem with that image being held, there are certain purse-string holding people who need to be a little better informed.

The champagne moment of the day was attained by Katie Birkwood and Naomi Herbert who work with the sort of collections that make me drool. Theirs was a useful show-and-tell exercise: a couple of case-studies on how to make the most of outreach for special collections. Special collections being my main interest in library life, I took particularly keen note, and learnt the immense value to be gained from gatecrashing meetings under an assumed identity to secure funding. High on my to-do list, beyond acquiring a false nose and moustache for the next round of planning discussions at work, is to assemble, from bits of paper and tacky-back, my very own astrolabe!

Also on my to-do list is CPD23, which was sold to us rather convincingly by Helen Murphy at the start of the day. It will, I am sure, provide ideal procrastination fodder as I embark upon my dissertation!

I could go on, describing the two workshops I attended, and the encouraging closing remarks of Biddy Fisher, but it's getting past my bedtime. Instead I shall wrap this post up simply by saying that Monday was a great day for me. It confirmed that my choices of late have been the right ones. I left Manchester inspired and encouraged to the extent that I have set up this blog and a dedicated twitter account for all things Library. There may be a clique, but I think I've finally muscled my way inside and I'm finding that it's a good place. I shall be wedging open the door I've come through, not to facilitate a swift exit but to help keep this circle of new librarians open. I agree with the comment in Rachel's presentation: new professionals should get involved with the old professionals as well as with each other. Buoyed up by Monday's conference, and subsequent support for my efforts, I'm hoping to do just that.