It was charming, the way we danced around the truth

This week there was a post on Ye Olde Cataloging Listserv about how to train student workers to copy catalog. You can imagine the response. And you can also probably imagine the response to the response.

This post is not about any of that, though the thoughts in the post are inspired by the conversation that the thread inspired.

This post is about how our drive for perfection, as catalogers, is the locus of our recruitment and retention problem in cataloging. And if we don't talk openly and honestly about that, we're going to lose an entire generation's worth of catalogers to other areas of library work.

I feel like there's this feeling that permeates the discourse around cataloging that we're not good enough catalogers until we've been in the field long enough, apprenticed with the right places and the right people, and learned not to make mistakes. And until that magical day until you cross the threshold of 'good enough,' you'll constantly be seen as suspect or as in-training.

What does this say to students in the field who have an interest in cataloging, but need the space to learn and grow? How are we to become good at cataloging if we don't have the opportunity to make mistakes? What kind of pressure are we putting on ourselves and our colleagues when perfection is the goal?

Real talk: I've been cataloging for 13-ish years and I am still not perfect. I miss details sometimes. I misapply subject headings. I just flat-out get it wrong sometimes.

And that's okay.

The upside of the metadata creation and reuse paradigm we find ourselves trapped in is that if the mistake is significant enough, someone will come behind me and fix it. And in many cases, a mistake that doesn't affect access never gets fixed.

This isn't to suggest that we shouldn't aim to do quality work and apply the descriptive and subject cataloging standards in an intellectually consistent way. We should.

But holding ourselves--and others--to an unobtainable standard of perfection isn't healthy. It creates anxious catalogers. It slows down our cataloging process. And it puts the perfect description of a resource above the needs of the users we serve.

What is most interesting to me about this theme of perfection and attention to detail that permeates the discourse around cataloging is that we don't seem to ask this of our colleagues who work in reference and instruction. Based on my limited experience in classrooms and at service points, perfection isn't the goal. You do the best you can to help those you serve find what they need or develop the skills that they need, knowing that you're a fallible human.

What could we accomplish, as a cataloging community, if we embraced our fallibility and focusing on intellectually consistent work instead of perfect work? What would it be like to embrace our imperfections, knowing that we can't get it right all of the time and that that's okay?

I think our goal, as cataloging practitioners, should be radical hospitality and generosity to those who are new to the field. We should be as transparent as we can about our own fallibility and the ways in which our lived experiences impact our work. Rather than trying to mold people into catalogers who never fall short or make mistakes, we should aim to create catalogers who are intellectually consistent in their work and who think about equity and justice.

Stay positive,
Erin

And there's something good waitin' down this road

tl;dr: I'm running for ALCTS Director-at-Large and I would very much love to earn your vote.

I am running for ALCTS Director-at-Large. Serving ALCTS at this level has been a dream of mine for the last few years. I came up in the ranks through the Continuing Resources Section, eventually serving as section chair. I also worked at the division-level on the Leadership Development Committee. So I've seen the division from the top-down and the bottom-up. This division has taught me how to be an effective and empathetic leader. And I am committed to helping it grow and thrive, whether as part of a reimagined new division or on its own.

Having served on the ALCTS Board as a section chair, I know that the Director-at-Large role is largely responsible for advocacy and support. DaL's liaise with division-level committees and vote on issue at the Board level. I'm including my statement of concern/purpose at the end of this message, but I wanted you to know that what I am most committed to, above all, is growing the next generation of technical services leaders regardless of whether they're ALCTS members or not.

Stay positive,
Erin

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Statement of concern/purpose:

An ALCTS Director-at-Large is responsible for advocacy and support on behalf of members. I am committed to ensuring that ALCTS remains vibrant and relevant for years to come. I believe that our members and our online learning opportunities are the key to making that happen. Members and non-members alike take part in our webinars, web courses, and eForums. The ALCTS Exchange, held in 2017, brought collections and technical services practitioners together to share ideas. As a Director-at-Large, I would advocate for continued growth in online learning opportunities, emphasizing these opportunities as an avenue for recruiting new members. While recruitment of members is important, ALCTS leaders must be intentional about retaining incumbent members. As a Director-at-Large I would support members in finding opportunities to learn, to volunteer, and to present both in-person and virtually. By amplifying voices of current and emerging leaders, the Division will ensure both its relevance and longevity.