Specificity

As us MLIS holders keep banging on the doors that the full time jobs are locked behind, I can't help be amazed and some of the job posts I see, and can't help but wonder how on earth they could ever be filled.  What kinds of jobs do I see when looking over library job sites?  Here are some fun examples:


Due Diligence Analyst (IL). 

I read the job description for this position and I still have no idea what they do.  But putting that aside, I'd love to know how many people went to library school in hopes of one day working as a Due Diligence Analyst.  If you're one of them, please tell me what you do in much simpler terms than I saw.


Product Coordinator- Reading Glasses (RI)

OK, I'm going to assume that this just made it onto a library job site completely by mistake, I don't think it's even supposed to be related in any way.


Bilingual Vietnamese Access Services Assistant (OR)

Seriously, who gets this job?  "Do you have an MLIS?  Do you have experience in access services?  Do you live in OR, or are willing to move there?  Do you also speak fluent Vietnamese?  Well then, it's your lucky fucking day.  Because if you have the qualifications to apply for this job, you're the only one!  Just show up to an interview, pants optional, and the job is yours!"  I would love to meet the person who got made fun of all through school because they studied for an MLIS and learned Vietnamese in the hopes of finding this exact job someday, and then it actually ended up paying off.  I would laugh and laugh and laugh.


These are of course oddball examples, but it's actually extremely common to see jobs that want you to have a second Master's degree, often in the hard sciences.  Yeah, I have a Master's in engineering, but now I'm going to spend the time and money on another Master's so I can go from being an engineer to being a librarian, because... I don't deserve to be happy.

These are the jobs I see when looking for employment.  Jobs I don't see: "Reference," without a bunch of stuff like "programming" and "children's lit" tacked onto it.  I'm pretty sure that used to be a thing, back before my ill fated graduation year of 2008.  I don't think they'll ever exist again.

Further failure, part 2: the dark side.

I've been putting this post off for a while.  I posted earlier about a job I came so close to getting after all these years, but came up short once again at the very end.  That post was my optimistic look at the situation, and I planned to follow through with a pessimistic look at it.

But the truth is, I'm just not feeling it.  And not only did that make it hard to motivate myself to want to do this, but it made me afraid to do it.  I've actually been feeling pretty good lately.  I've had things in my life to look forward to, even if gainful employment (and everything that comes with it) hasn't been one of those things.  So I was afraid that if I looked inside myself for the gloomy outlook that I know still exists in here somewhere, I might just open that Pandora's box a bit too wide and gloom and depression would have dominion over me again.

However, I have more I've been wanting to say, and that means I need to get this post out of the way first.  So on the bright side, it was a good sign that I got so close to a job, that had circumstances been different, I might be gainfully employed and living in my own apartment right now.  On the bright side, I now know that it's at least possible.

But on the dark side....

On the dark side, that was a damn fucking good job I didn't get.  The kind of job that doesn't come around very often.  Gainful employment doing exactly what I want to do and exactly what I know I'm good at, while only having to work 80% of full time.  Having an extra 20% to myself, to spend how I want.  And working in a nice place with a nice bunch of people.  That job was at the tip of my fingers, but it came down to five people who decided to pull it out of my hands after all.  And just like that, my best shot at a great job is gone.

Now, I might get a job someday, sure.  But the chances of me getting a job like that?  Well, it just can't happen.  I'm no stranger in life to unicorn hunting, but I've never managed to catch that damn unicorn.  May have spotted a few, but they all got away.  I should definitely not be getting my hopes up about being able to catch this particular unicorn.  So no, I'm going to have to grind my life down working 40-45 hours a week or more, 49 weeks a year or more if I ever get a job at all.  And granted, that is what most people do, but if there were a way I could have avoided that and had enough time to do some real traveling and whatnot, well it would have been through a job like that.  A job I probably can't ever hope to have.

And then there's the other issue I've hinted at before and will hint at again: I want very little out of life.  but the one thing I wanted more than anything, it's already probably too late for me to get that.  And the reason it's too late is because I won't be getting a living wage until I'm God knows how old (33 and counting).  I really needed to get there by my mid 20s at latest, but since I already didn't do that, I have next to no chance even if I get a job tomorrow.  Even if I had gotten that job I'd have next to no chance.  This is all for nothing.

That's about all I can write right now.  I'm already feeling down from this, so I'll stop here and try to get myself back into good spirits.  Things are going ok for me right now.  I have things to look forward to.  And my next post will actually be good news.  Back to the bright side.

Further failure, part one: The bright side

I did not get the job.  I still have one more day before I'm able to get really dark about this, so here's the bright side.

This was the closest I've ever gotten to landing a full time job in the library field.  My previous best effort was a job in Indiana, where I absolutely crushed the phone and the webcam/presentation interviews, then drove there from two states away, only for them to show zero interest in me from the time I set foot in there until they sent me packing half an hour later.  I was leading on the score cards for a few rounds, but in the final round I got knocked the fuck out and buried.

This time, I didn't get knocked out.  I did well.  I did really well.  They spent close to three hours with me, enjoyed my presentation, and let me know in some way at more than one point that I'd impressed them.  I went bell to bell and forced a difficult decision.  "Yo, Adrian!"

They still went with someone else in the end.  It sucks, and more on that later.  But the good news is, I wasn't a joke.  I just need to find the right jobs to apply for (not an easy task, but they come around now and then), get luck to go my way, and someday I could finally get that call.  I was close.  Maybe if my interview had been on a Tuesday after lunch instead of a Friday before lunch, or if I'd been elsewhere in the order, or if I'd worn a different color.  Who knows, maybe it was just a little thing like that that ended up tipping the decision.  It worked against me this time.  Next time, maybe it can work for me and finally, after all this time, I'll have a new city for my chalk outline to circle.

The point is, I'm marketable.  For the right kind of job, I can get far and get strong consideration.  Possibly enough to be the one.  I have enough experience, and now I have more confidence.  I've learned from past mistakes.  I've been able to adapt and force myself to become what I need to be (or, fake it for just long enough to get away with it).  I now know I have the skill-set and experience, and all it will take is finding that right interview where the coin flip goes my way.  This is no longer impossible.

Don't worry, the next post will be far less positive.

Fore.

Well...

I Recently mentioned that I had applied for two jobs.  In that post I was unusually positive, because I'm giving up negativity for lent.  Lent is not over, so this is going to be another unusually positive post.  I'm actually rather reluctant to make posts like this, because I'm really messing with the formula here.  If anyone comes here, it is not for positive vibes.  In fact, after all these years I've definitely frightened away anybody who doesn't have the patience to commiserate with a miserable sad sack.  If you're here, it's likely because of, not in spite of, the fact that I am a gigantic bummer.

So... my apologies to those who get a kick out of me being wretched.  But the good news is that I think this shift in attitude has been good for me.  I'm not wallowing in a pit of despair, for one.  For another thing, well......

I got an interview for one of those jobs I applied for.  First a phone interview, and then an in-person interview.

Now, I'm not saying this happened because of the power of positive thinking or any such nonsense.  But not being able to crawl into negativity has definitely made the experience much easier.

Typically I would have spent the entire time leading up to the interview freaking the absolute holy fuck out and generally having anxiety attacks.  Instead, I pushed those thoughts out of my head and told myself, "I know what I'm doing, I've got this."  Then I'd be freaking the absolute holy fuck out with self-doubt, thinking that I can't do this, that even if I get the job I'll only make a fool of myself, that I'll be forced to throw myself on a sword after my colossal failure.  Once again, not this time.  Just, "I've got this."  Worst of all, these self-doubts and anxiety attacks would have possibly lead to some form of self-sabotage.  I'll even admit I fleetingly had the thought: "maybe I should just turn the job down if they offer it to me."  I chased that one away fast.

The in-person interview was today.  It was the best in-person interview I've ever had.  I had an answer for every question.  My experience impressed them, and it seemed to me that more than anything they wanted someone with my kind of experience to come in and do exactly what I know can do-- and I do mean know, not just a case of telling myself it'll be ok this time.  My presentation went well--  everyone laughed at the right times and one of the professors even said I taught him a new trick with the databases.  I made what was, for me, an admirable attempt to mix in with the conversation and be part of the group.  I asked a lot of questions that they seemed to think were good questions.  The event was planned for three hours, though it was said that it would likely not go that long.  However, it nearly did, lasting 2 hours and 45 minutes.

So what I'm saying is, I brought my A game.

Interviews are like golf.  There's no defense.  Until I see the leaderboard, I have no way of knowing how the others are even doing.  I can't control for how well anyone else did, so I can't say I think it was a slam dunk or anything.  I may have just had my best in-person interview, and maybe the person before me had their best, and their best was a little better.  I don't know.  What I do know is that I stepped up to the tee and made solid contact with the ball.  And now I kind of feel like I can golf.

I'd been telling myself, in the spirit of staying positive, that this interview would be a good thing no matter what.  It showed me that if I cast my line, it's at least possible I'll get a nibble.  And this happened with one of the first two jobs I applied for after forcing myself to get back into the game.  Even if I had blown the interview, I would look at this as a positive (since, you know, I literally can't complain).

But I didn't blow the interview.  I hit the fucking golf ball.  So now the positive is that, again, I know I can do this.  I know that I can be lucky enough to get an interview, and then actually have a good interview.  Which means I can get a job in this field, with the right amount of luck.  That's my downside right now.

The upside.... maybe I'll actually get this one.

The location and the hours look wonderful.  I'd only be an hour away from my current home so I wouldn't have to never see my friends again.  I'd only have to work half-time in the Summer.  The city seems... not overly exciting, but most of my entertainment is indoors anyway.  The other people there seemed pleasant.  As long as that whole "having to throw myself on a samurai sword" thing doesn't happen, I'm thinking this would work for me,

So... here's hoping.

To win big just once.

About a month ago, powerball fever swept the nation.  All over the country, people said: "statistics be damned," and purchased a ticket to get in on the action.  I suspect many of them were purchasing a ticket not to win, but to dream.  They knew damn well there was no real possibility that they'd win this life-changing money, but for a week or two, they got to window-shop online for all the big-ticket items they'd buy, got to imagine their dream homes, got to daydream about paying off their debts and giving their nieces and nephews a chance to go to college.

After a long while of being unable to motivate myself to look for a job (and who wouldn't get burned out after 8 years of failure?), I've-- at least for the time being-- pulled myself out of the funk long enough to apply for two jobs.  In doing so, I rediscovered something I had completely forgotten about.  The powerball effect.

I know that the odds of landing any particular librarian job are near as likely as winning the powerball for me.  But still, I can dream.  Ever since applying for those jobs, I've taken to imagining what this life-changing windfall would be like.  I think about going home after a day's work to a small but nice apartment.  I open the fridge-- stocked with nothing but foods I like-- and prepare a nice but relatively fuss-free meal.  While waiting for it to cook, I walk to my absinthe fountain-- something I've always wanted but have no room for without a place of my own-- and slowly drip myself a glass of absinthe to unwind from my day.  I eat, drink, and enjoy what's left of my day while looking forward to the weekend when I'll have time to see my friends.

I even began window-shopping for apartments.  I looked online at pictures of one-bedroom places with reasonable rent, and imagined living in that space, imagined where my things would go, imagined meeting with the apartment manager, seeing the places in person, and trying to figure out if there are children in the apartments, since directly asking is illegal for some asinine reason (I'm not allowed to value quiet and sleep?).

I think about some friends coming up to my new place, bringing board games and being supplied with generous portions of wine, scotch, or absinthe, as desired, along with a home-cooked meal.  For once, my friends can come to me, and not always vice-versa.

Some people buy their dreams with a few dollars.  I buy mine with the time it takes to fill out an application and craft a cover letter.  I think my way is harder, and for a smaller dream, no less.  But I'm not here to complain about that.  Also, I would typically at this point say something about how my dream will go up in a puff of nothing just as easily as all those powerball players.  I would talk about that crushing moment where it's all hopeless again, at least until I can buy the next dream.  But I'm not going to do that this time, because I'm trying to give up my default negativity for lent.  So instead I'll say, maybe it will be this time.  Or the next.  And the take away from this for me is that, despite the likelihood of rejection, there is real value in my trying.  I spent so much time curled up  in a pit of despair that I'd forgotten what it's like to lift my head and at least look up at the sky above.  Maybe, knowing this, I'll be able to convince myself to keep trying.

I only need to win big just once.

Silence

I've gone a little while without updating my blog.  Don't worry, I still have plenty of scribbled notes of ideas for blog discussions.  I just haven't been interested in doing them lately for the same reason I haven't been very diligent in job hunting for librarian jobs lately.

When I first started writing about the impossibility of getting a job in this field, the advice I gave to myself, yet refused to accept, was "Give Up."  And while I haven't done this yet, the sentiment has crept deeper into my bones lately.  It's so hard to motivate myself to spend hours of my time going through job listings and applying to at least the lowest hanging fruit when more than six years of experience is telling m it's a waste of time, and my life will never move on from the stalled place it's at now.

For the past few months I've been begrudgingly doing the part-part-part time job I do have and then coming home and escaping into books or video games, not even bothering to waste my time applying anywhere.  I've just been feeling too defeated to pull myself up lately.

If you're not in this position it's probably so easy to say: "oh, but you need to apply, you never know!"  or "don't Give Up!"  Or "you may as well keep trying, no harm in trying after all!"  To you, I challenge you to go six straight years failing at something and not go through patches where you're just not motivated.  When you've had Mike Tyson beating you senseless for six years, there will be times when you lie on the mat for longer than needed, just to get a break.

My lack of interest in my career has also, as you have seen, translated to a lack of interest in talking about my career.  I still have plenty to say, though.  And really, that's sad.  I didn't know when I started two years ago that I'd have over two years worth of material to rant about regarding my own personal failure in life, and the death of the American dream.  No, not death.  Zombification.  It has died, but shuffles on as a cruel mockery of those who cared for it, devouring them in giant handfuls.  I don't know what to make of the fact that I've now used two analogies of fighting an opponent who likes to bite people.  Point is, it is appalling  that there's so much to say about how terrible one specific problem is.  Two years and still so much left to say about the futility of life for anyone trying to start a life for the first time post November, 2008.

And it will be said.  A few days ago I managed to bring myself to skim the job postings half-heartedly, and this should mark the start of more searching, more applications, and more posts about just how fucked this dead field is.

Enjoy.

I think, therefore I am sad.

Since this blog is about me being a failure, it is long overdue that I talk about what exactly I’m failing at.  You know what it is in general—I’m trying and failing to be a librarian.  But I can be more specific.  Here are the kinds of position I’m open to:

On the academic level: instruction, reference, and collection development are the places I’m aiming.  Sometimes a position will be jazzed up with a title like “E-learning librarian” and will have maybe an additional duty or two, but this is what I’m experienced in and know I like.

On the public level: reference… aaand that’s pretty much it.

Then there are my “hard limits,” jobs I will never apply for.  These are: archivist, children’s librarian, and cataloging.

Why I want the stuff I want: as I said above, I’m experienced in instruction and know I like it.  Same with reference and collection development.  I don’t have anything against something like acquisitions, nor do I think it would be very difficult to pick up, but my overall lack of experience really precludes me from being able to apply.  When I was doing fieldwork 6 years ago I dabbled a bit in it, but I couldn’t even tell you the name of the system I was using at this point.  The most I’d be able to say to an employer is “I dabbled in it many years ago and I’m sure I can do it, but I don’t have any recent proof of that.”  So, that’s out.  Instruction is really the only place I can boast a lot of experience.

I fell into instruction partly by chance and partly by choice.  When I was in library school my plan was actually to become a reference librarian in a public library.  Finding answers to random questions and dealing with weirdos all while being paid, what more could I ask?  Then came time for me to do fieldwork, and I went immediately to the nearby public library and told them I’m available for free labor.  Their answer: “no thanks.”  Yep, I even failed to GIVE AWAY my free labor on the first try.  They told me they were too busy to deal with me and I’d have to try someplace else.  I didn’t have a car yet at this point, so my options were fairly limited.  There was only one other library I wouldn’t need to bus to, and in fact it was much closer; just a quick walk up a short hill, maybe 5 minutes walking.  The only problem was this was an academic library, which wasn’t where I had hoped my career would take me.  However, I figured the reference experience I’d get there could translate to working in a public library, so I went ahead and asked.  As luck would have it, they were only too happy to help!  I enjoyed my time there and am still in contact with several of them today, and all of them are happy to be strong references for me.  So, you could say that worked out.  What also “worked out” is that I had an opportunity to get a taste of instruction there, and it immediately become my thing.  Perhaps (if I haven’t already—I don’t even remember) I’ll follow up with a post on why instruction turned out to be the path for me.  We’ll leave it here for now and move on.

I consider myself to have lucked out there, not only in discovering the niche I was best suited to, but also because instruction affords me MUCH more opportunity than public reference does.  Part of the problem with many librarian positions is, since our field is now F’d in the B, so many positions have been combined and blended together.  This often means the blending of something I can demonstrate an aptitude in (reference) with something I have no experience or even knowledge of my own aptitude in (cataloging, adult services, youth services, take your pick).  In all of my searching in the last year, I think I may have seen one posting for a public reference position that was full time and was actually just reference.  To just teal deer that for you, so many positions have been merged together that I (and I’m sure countless new librarians) are having a harder time finding a position, not just because there are less jobs, but also because things they had experience in are being merged with things they don’t.

As another example, I think I’d make a good teen librarian.  I love graphic novels, video games, and John Green.  That’s what you could call a good start.  That and I’m familiar with YALSA, of course.  But more and more I’m seeing teen librarians and children’s librarians merged together into “youth services librarians” who do both jobs.  I think I relate to teens more than someone my age probably should, but children are another story.  For one, I hate them.  Even putting that aside, I can’t be relatable to them.  I can’t talk to them on their level, with coos and squeaky voices and feigned enthusiasm.  I just can’t, it's not something I have in me.  It is in the best interest of everybody involved if I am kept as far away from children as humanly possible.  But of course, this means I can kiss goodbye a lot of opportunities to be a teen librarian, which is actually something I could do and enjoy.

This post began as an explanation of what opportunities I’m going after and not going after, and this is a rare time it evolved into a little more as I began to type (I usually have a destination in plan when I begin, but this time I didn’t).  It also began to explain why merging positions creates reduced opportunity beyond the obvious fact that there’s less positions.  I’m not sure yet if it’s been taken into account that we’re not only losing numbers, but many positions have also been combined in such a way that more experience is needed (or at least preferred), creating a double whammy effect for anyone still trying to get solid footing.

This is why sometimes it’s better not to think.  The result is often depressing.

Map to failure

When I started this blog years ago, I didn't know I'd still be at it by this time.  The mess of an economy I walked into has now stolen nearly six years of my life, and the meter is still running.  I have plenty more posts left in me, but as a placeholder until I have more time, I'd like to revisit one of my first posts.  I had a map where I was keeping track of all the states I got rejected from in my quest to become a financially independent librarian, declaring that my new goal was to fill it out completely, so that I could declare that every single one of these United States has told me individually that they want nothing to do with me (since the goal of gainful employment is unattainable for a librarian these days, I may as well focus on something doable).

After my hard drive died a while back I replaced that ugly map with a much sleeker one, now filling in a blank US map rather than crossing out the states in a full map.  It looks much better, I think.  You'll also notice it is now quite a bit more full:

I only have 18 more states to go.  As you can see, I can now travel the country from coast to coast in an unbroken path of states that have been specific about not wanting me to stay.

Some of these states will be harder than others.  Florida is not the hardest state to find openings in, I only need to find one I actually seem right for.  Montana, on the other hand, rarely has openings.  The hardest spots to fill, I think, will be:

-Montana
-Hawaii
-West Virginia
-Rhode Island
-New Mexico

Alaska might be pretty tough, too.  Florida and Nebraska are only a matter of time.

Not very great expectations

We who have been looking at postings for librarian jobs for a long time have long been aware of how laughably optimistic some employers are of the kinds of applicants they're going to find.  More than a decade's worth of experience, a second Master's degree (in a specific particular field, no less), and willing to work 50-60 hours a weeks for just under 30,000 dollars.  That's a worst case scenario, of course, but I've actually seen postings that hit three out of four of those.  Clearly, some people would do well to lower their expectations.  Yes, this is an employer's market and you've got your pick of the litter right now, but sometimes the future Westminster winner you're hoping for just isn't going to be out there.

Now, we job hunters often have a snicker over those job posts, typically before sighing heavily, taking another belt of our favorite drink (hemlock), and throwing ourselves off the roof.  And yet, I rarely hear laughter, complaints, or head scratching about employers on the opposite side of the fence, and it's strange to me because I see them constantly.  I mean those employers who pretend to have no standards whatsoever, even though they clearly need someone with a pretty substantial wealth of experience.

These jobs are extremely easy to identify.  Any time you see a job described simply as "Librarian," you've just found one.  What kind of librarian?  Reference?  Instruction?  Collection development?  Cataloging?  Would this be a supervisory position, perhaps?  Would I be in charge of the website, or be the liaison to the instructors?  The answer is all of the above.  "Librarian" more or less means "you're gonna be the only one here. do it all."  Now that's the kind of job I wouldn't expect to get without 5 years or more of progressively greater responsibility in the library world, having moved my way up to a management position at the very least.  Maybe I wouldn't expect to need a second Master's in Oriental Medicine or whatever, but obviously I should be ready to tackle a huge range of tasks with little to no direction.

I see these jobs all the time.  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  That vague title that simply means "every kind of librarian you can think of, you're running the show, champ."  And yet every single one of those jobs I see asks for the exact same qualifications: "An ALA accredited Master's degree in Library Science."  That's it.  As if someone who just walked out of library school is perfectly capable of captaining the ship themselves.

What I'd like to know is, are they honestly considering people with no experience?  Is what they list as their qualifications really all that matters to them?  Or are they doing a complete 180 from the laughably optimistic employers above, so afraid of raising their standards too high that they drop all standards altogether for the initial job posting, and simply weed out the inexperienced ones once they've collected the resumes?  In short, just what the fucking fuck is up with these jobs?  I don't suppose anyone in the know can shed some light on this for us long-suffering job hunters?

And if these jobs secretly do have standards, could we maybe see more middle ground between the "I expect a librarian who can ride in on a unicorn, holding the Holy Grail" employers and the "we need someone who can do everything, but fuck it, we're too afraid to ask for more than a degree" employers?  Please?  I understand your perspective as someone who is concerned about raising the bar too high, but maybe you could understand my perspective as someone who is a little burned out after spending over five years applying for job after job after job afterjobafterjobafterjob,  and maybe agree not to waste my time if I don't have the experience you're secretly looking for.  Just an idea, throwing it out there.

Talk about the passion

Everyone knows that when you interview for a position you’re not entirely yourself.  I’m not saying you lie during interviews.  At least I don’t and I hope you don’t either, since you’re competing with me for jobs.  But while we don’t lie, of course what we present isn’t entirely representative of ourselves.  If it were, introverts would never get jobs.  Nor would anyone who dares to want a job for the money more than anything.  And since people need money to, you know, live, there aren’t many people for whom the money isn’t one of the top draws.  And then there are people like me who are just desperate to have a full time job in a horrible economy, but we’re sure as hell not allowed to be honest about being desperate.  No, if we had to show our true faces during an interview, no one would ever work.

So what’s the hardest part for me to fake?  I can hide my desperation, I hope.  At least, I don’t come right out and say I’m desperate, or that I need the job, or I need the money.  I can also generally hide the fact that I’m shy, given that there’s not much chance for me to show that I am.

Nope, I would say the hardest thing for me to fake is passion.  Having to act like “Oh my God, I LOVE being a librarian and it makes me so HAPPY to do this!”

 I used to be able to feel something like that long ago, before my current job broke my spirit by degrading me in every way at every opportunity.  But even back then the feeling would be ephemeral.  The truth is, I am not a passionate person.  Not about anything.  In fact, I’ve gone my whole life wondering if there was something wrong with me because it seems like everyone else can feel so strongly for things, and I never could.  I can enjoy things, but not enough that I’d want to do them for the better half of my waking day, five days a week, no matter how I feel and no matter what else I could be doing.  I can’t understand the mentality of anyone who could love anything that much.

There are things I can say I used to have a passion for, but I couldn’t sustain it.  Art, for example.  I was one of those kids who was always in at least two art classes any given semester throughout high school.  Then it just stopped, and when it did it was like a light switch.  One day art was my thing, and the next day I had no desire to draw or paint, and I knew I never would again.  And I never did.  Sorry I never used that easel you bought me, grandma.

I have no tattoos and I strongly doubt I ever will, because there’s nothing I care about so much that I’d want it on my body for the rest of my life.  Honestly, I kind of think people are idiots when they get band tattoos, because surely someday they’ll be 40 and explaining “oh yeah, that’s just the logo of some band I used to be really into.”  But band logos aside, some people apparently just love some things so much and know they always will to the point that they’ll draw it on themselves permanently.  And I know I never will.

When I first started to do fieldwork, I got a rush from helping people directly.  Instruction work made me feel like a rock star.  Now?  I spend every moment I’m not at work dreading going to work.  If I could have sustained that passion under normal conditions, I sure as hell couldn’t do it working in a place like this.

But I know that when I go into an interview, I have to spend all of my energy trying to put myself back in a place where I had that passion and enthusiasm, when in reality all I really want is to get a full time salary so I can live whatever little scraps of life I’m allowed to have on a full time schedule, and if I’m really lucky, do it in a place that doesn’t degrade me on a daily basis.  I just want to live my life and get by, that's all.  Yet there I am, forcing myself to pretend to be upbeat and enthusiastic for half an hour or more.

And it is fucking exhausting.

I still think there’s something wrong with me.  I still don’t understand why I can’t feel like normal people.  Why I’m so fucking broken that I can’t love things and activities unconditionally.  I can find interests, I can enjoy things, but there will never be anything that I eat, breathe, and sleep, and want to be my life.  Never.

What piece of the soul am I missing that everyone else has?

Not dead, just buried

I feel I owe an update to the dozens of spambots and the zero real, actual people who read this blog.

There has been news.  Kind of a lot of news, actually.  The problem is, I've been busy.  And when I'm not busy, my depression demands that I do nothing but sit here in my sweatpants playing Skyrim for 12 hours straight.

But enough about my crippling mental disorders, here's the news.  In the past 2 months I have had two interviews for full time jobs.  To put that in context, the last full time job I was interviewed for (not counting This catastrophe, which I don't and neither should you) was about 4.5 years ago.  So I went from nothing year after year after year, to two interviews for full time positions in two months.

I got my MLIS in 2008.  It is now 2013.  That's 5 years and change.  That was how long it took for me to turn a corner where my experience is now enough to get me looked at.  As you may recall, my experience all this time has been adjunct info lit instruction, so maybe it's not as bad if you're the lucky kind of son or daughter of a bitch who can somehow land a part time job that's actually in a library.  I don't know how such a thing as possible, but eh, people get lucky.  Maybe you did fieldwork where there just happened to be an opening.  Good for you.  You son or daughter of a bitch.  Anyway, if you're one of those people then I guess you probably didn't have as long of a wait.  If you're like me and your only job has been teaching info lit as an adjunct (I know I'm not the only one!), the the magic number you're looking for is 5.  Five years and just maybe your resume will start getting looked at (albeit, only for jobs with a heavy instruction component).

And if you didn't hit the jackpot and stumble ass-first into a part time position right out of library school, AND if you didn't make the connections to get a teaching gig at the very least (in which case you must think me the son or daughter of a bitch), then haha, wow, I have no idea what it's going to be for you.

I may be jumping the gun, though.  I'm aware that two interviews doesn't prove a pattern.  It could very well be that getting two interviews was luck, and the fact they were 2 months from each other is coincidence, and now I'll be back to another 5 year dry spell.  Could be, but honestly I don't think so.  It's kind of hard to admit, but I actually have a good feeling about this.

I got rejected from that first job, by the way.  The other one... well, we'll wait and see.

Swimming against the current

When I was just finishing up library school and getting ready to face the nonexistent odds of attracting an employer’s attention with very little experience to my name, a friend in the field let me know about the one positive I could look at, namely my currency.  “You’ll be more current than the person who hires you.”  That was the bright side back in mid 2008, and now it’s an edge I’m rapidly losing.  At this point-- five monkey-fucking years into my search for a full time position-- it’s no longer completely ridiculous to think I may actually be less current than the person who will hire me.  Don’t get me wrong, I am more than happy to trade that dull edge for my five years of experience (even if it’s just as an adjunct instructor), I’m merely reflecting on how ridiculous it is that I may get my first full time job from someone who is an even more recent graduate than I am.

I also need to consider at this point, how current am I really?  I have to admit, aside from the word “festschrift,” I remember roughly jack about cataloging.  I may remember using Dreamweaver in my digital libraries class, but I don’t really remember how at this point.  What I’m saying is I’ve lost a lot of the knowledge from all those years ago.  Not exactly current.

Besides, after five years, is any of it really still “current” anyway?  Perhaps you could call it “more current” than ten years ago, but a closer miss is still a miss.  “Current” today seems to revolve a lot around mobile devices and apps.  There were no courses on using either of these things to a library’s advantage when I was in school.  Nowadays, however, I see a lot of jobs calling for knowledge of mobile devices, and even experience with designing apps.  That sort of thing is far out of my league, and always will be.  You see, I don’t freaking have a mobile device and have never used an app.  And this is a place where I’m going to have to draw the line and be left behind.  I am simply not going to pay for a device and a monthly fee that I really can’t afford for a product that I don’t have a personal need for and do not want, just to be able to say I know my way around mobile devices and apps.  Librarians like to talk about the digital divide, and this is where I’m a victim of it; I’m being left behind because of the tacit expectation that I’m electronically keeping up with the Joneses, and am willing and able to spend all the money it would take to do so.

I’m not a neoluddite.  I know how to use IM, I know how to create profiles on social media, and I’m obviously on a computer right now (with Windows 7).  But holy crap, people have got to be able to draw the line somewhere, and for me it’s paying a monthly bill for something I don’t even want, just to have the latest technology.  But again, this decreases my currency even further in terms value in the job hunt.  How long do I have to land a job somewhere before I'm considered so out of date that my odds of being hired go from one in 999 trillion to a flat zero?

Have I actually become a dinosaur in my field before ever landing a full time (or even half time) job?

Wash it down the drain

As I think of how unprepared I feel to do most of the jobs I find on the job hunt, and how scary everything seems, and how hard and how much work, I often think I’m trying and failing to do something I have no business doing.  I know that my life has been a never ending cycle of me thinking I don’t have the competence to do something, and then doing it well.  And I know I earned my degree, and I did well in my fieldwork, and I’m doing at least well enough not to get fired with my current position, but none of that makes me feel prepared or capable of doing 99% of the library jobs I see.

As I sat (alone.  In the dark.  If you must know) tonight, dwelling on that very issue, I couldn’t help thinking about how I’ve set myself up for failure by trying to do something I’m just not good enough to do, and then I thought: “All because it was so fucking important for people to think I’m smart.”

I mentioned before why I chose to be a librarian, and all of that was true, but it’s also true that my motivation for a lot of things in life stems from wanting to show that I’m smart (and in my previous explanation, that was indeed my reason for getting into reading before I found that book that really made me into reading).

I know “Librarian” doesn’t say “genius” the way a medical degree or something would, but I’m not smart enough for a medical degree.  But I am (or thought I would be) smart enough to be a librarian.  And hey, librarians are considered smart.

The only problem is, now that I’m trying to get that job I really don’t think I’m smart enough at all.  I mean, I’m smart at a few things.  Reading, of course.  Logic, of the “if X, then Y” variety.  And I was a good student because of that, being able to see patterns easily.  I still remember one example.  Elementary school, some guest speaker was talking to us all, grades 1-6.  I was probably somewhere in grades 1-3, can’t say where for sure.  He had a long rectangular box with doors on both sides, and he put a ball in one side and asked where it was.  Someone pointed to the side he put the ball in.  He tilted the box so the ball rolled to the other side, then opened the door the kid pointed at to reveal it wasn’t there, and asked again where the ball was.  Another kid points to the side the ball rolled to, and he tilted the box the other way… etc.  This went on for several rounds, and I was /dying/ for him to call on me.  I couldn’t believe that no one else had figured it out.  Simple, point to where the ball isn’t and he’ll tilt it and that’s where the ball will be.  Simple pattern recognition, right?  He was calling on all the older kids, and none of them got it.  I’m sure I was one of the few who did.  He even made a comment at some point, along the lines of “you’d think they’d figure it out by now” before giving up completely.

And in the post I linked to above, you see that my kindergarten teacher didn't think it was even possible for someone to read fluently at the age of 5 until I was her student.

So where does all this insecurity come from?  This driving need for people to see me as intelligent?  Easy.  I had another trait as a small child: I liked making people laugh.  So I tried to do that at every chance I got, getting myself a bit of a "class clown" reputation.  I didn't know it at first, but apparently the stereotype is that class clowns are dumb.  That's just the stereotype: the kid seeks attention because he's not good at anything else.  I eventually realized that the other students weren't aware of the smarts I had, they were only aware of the clown persona, and applied all the usual stereotypes to it.  Everyone was treating me like an idiot, and it was the worst feeling in the world.  I never got over that.  to this day nothing gets under my skin quite like someone insulting my intelligence.

Therefore, it was important to me all my life that people see me as smart.  Therefore, reading and higher education.  Therefore, librarian.  When I dig further back into my past than the post linked above, I see it was my insecurity that took me here and drove me right off the cliff of failure.

The thing is, even though I was actually a pretty sharp little kid, none of that potential I had amounted to anything.  I think I was an exceptional child who, through sheer lack of motivation, became an average adult.

I spoke before about a song lyric that applies to my life, or more specifically, the part of my life I describe in this blog.  There’s another song lyric, much less optimistic, that also applies.  From a song called Farewell Mona Lisa:

“Don’t you ever try to be more than you were destined for, or anything worth fighting for.”

That one hits me every time.  I feel like that’s exactly what I did.  I bit off more than I could chew, tried to become something more than I was worth.  And now this is my life: struggling and fighting to do something that I don’t honestly believe I can do, and the thought of doing it scares me senseless.  Fail or succeed, I feel like neither option can end well for me.

All those employers I’ve sent resumes to have been right not to put their trust in me.

Top 5 uses for an MLIS

After 5 years now of having a Master's in Library and Information Science, and spending that much time and counting trying to get full-time (or even half time) employment, I have decided to put together a list of things that an MLIS can actually be useful for.  Here is what I've come up with:

Uses for an MLIS:

-Tuck your degree into your shirt before tackling a plate of ribs.
-Make an incredibly expensive yet stylish paper airplane.
-Wipe away your tears of failure.
-Glare at it while drinking alone each night.
-Give yourself a paper cut to procure the blood necessary to complete the ritual that summons Belphegor, ancient demon of greed, and beg him for a crust of bread.

What an MLIS is NOT useful for:

-Getting a job in the library field, or any field.

Where jobs grow on jobees.

I said I couldn't do it.  I couldn't face one more semester in this hostile work environment, especially not with Spring approaching, notoriously the worst time of the year for student behavior.

Did anyone really think things would turn out differently for me than they always have?  Of course I'm on the schedule again... and it turns out I'm not the only one who has asked/begged not to be placed on this particular campus again due to the student behavior, ensuring that I will be shoved into this slot over and over as more people leave, since I don't have the luxury of demanding to be placed at a different campus "or else I won't come back."  I don't have another job.  I need the money.  I'm the only one willing to take this kind of abuse.  Well, not "willing" exactly, but I don't have a choice.

The "good news" if there is any, is I'll only have one section, and on Saturday morning.  This leaves me lots of free time and flexibility to find and work another job, maybe some crap minimum wage job that will undoubtedly suck, but will probably be less stressful and pay as much or more.  There's only one small problem with that.  It would have to be possible for me to find another job, even a crap one.

I've always "loved" how people say "get a job" as if it's just that simple.  We no longer live in an age where you can walk into any store and remove the 'help wanted' sign from the window, and you have a job.  We no longer even live in an age where you can walk into a McDonald's, fill out an application, and automatically get that job.  And I'm someone with reliable transportation, no convictions, and an able (if crappy) body... I'm what used to be the bare criteria for hire-ability in a dead end job.. but none of that cuts it anymore.  Just "get a job"?  Only one reply seems appropriate to that condescending advice...


So this summer, I strap on my job helmet and finally search for some crappy, dead-end minimum wage job, since this whole library science thing worked out so well.  Wish me luck.  Or death, I'll take death, actually...

My "favorite" interview question, and answers.

Why do you want to work here?

-Because I need money.

-Because I’d like to stop being a failure now.

-Because I have to start somewhere.

-Because I sent out a million resumes and this was the only place to call me.

-Because I spent all day yesterday lying in bed.  Come dark, the shadows danced on the ceiling until they blurred together into non-Euclidean shapes with glowing red eyes and gaping mouths.  Their dispassionate, echoing laughter filled my ears as they swirled around, laughing, mocking me.  They made me feel bad about myself.  I lay there mesmerized, forgetting about my body.  There was nothing but them, me, and the laughter, God the laughter.  They saw inside of me, right through my skin and sinew, into my soul.  They found it empty.  Empty, lost, and forever alone, leaning out for anything but never touching something real.  They laughed.  It all went away that night.  The whole world went away.  I don't know if it was just me, or if I actually unmade the entire world with my mind.  I don’t know when I lost consciousness, but eventually my eyes blinked open as the light of a new day hit my face.  I still felt paralyzed.  For another hour, some part of me wanted to go back.  Wanted the world to go away again, just wanted everything to go away forever.  I’m afraid of what will happen if I spend another day like this, if one more day of me being a failure with nothing else to do were to go by.  I might lose myself again.  I might unmake the entire world forever.

-Because please?

Idiot Wind

If I were trying to get to know someone and could only ask that person a single question, it would be “What’s your favorite Bob Dylan song?”

Bob Dylan touches a lot on the human experience.  It’s impossible to go through his catalog without finding something that really touches you, really strikes a nerve with you in particular, and seems to be talking directly to you.  For that reason I think that discovering someone’s favorite Dylan song can really tell you a lot about about them, what their experiences have been, and what kind of thing really strikes a nerve with them. 

Besides, anyone who doesn’t care for Bob Dylan probably isn’t someone worth talking to.

My favorite Dylan song is Idiot Wind (the original, from the Blood on the Tracks album).  Absolutely nobody can sing contempt like Bob Dylan and the way this song starts out is a good example.  But that’s not the main reason it’s my favorite, it’s just a strong supporting reason.  There are actually several good supporting reasons, but I’m going to jump to the main one:

You didn’t know it,
you didn’t think it could be done,
in the final end he won the war.
After losing every battle.

Every time I grab that album to listen to on the way to work I hear that song as though hearing it for the first time.  When it comes on I know I’m about to hear my favorite song by one of my favorite artists, and yet I always seem to forget that I’m about to hear that specific line.  And when I hear it, it’s all I can do not to break down and cry when everything it means to me comes flooding back.

For so many years that one line has spoken to me more than anything else.  It was my only hope, after all.  Life post grad school has been rejection after rejection after rejection, for years.  Every single battle lost.  It was always encouraging to think that it was possible, even after racking up nothing but losses, to win the war in the end.

My belief in that may be weakening over time.  Lately it seems like even if I do win the war, who cares?  I’ve been fighting so long that the end of the war isn’t going to be glorious or romantic.  It’s going to be missing limbs, misery, and unstable conditions for the region.  It has turned into the kind of war where no one wins and everyone loses.

After all, I already feel like I’m too old to still have time to get what I really wanted out of life, but can’t go for until my financial situation is in order.  I’ve probably already lost in life thanks to this career choice, but for some stupid reason I keep marching on in hopes of an eventual Pyrrhic victory.  What am I even fighting for anymore? 

My war…. what is it good for?

Would I change my path if I could?

Sometimes I sit alone and wonder about what could have been, about what could have changed or been done differently.  I found myself where I am by following the path of least resistance.  I didn’t know what I wanted to do after high school, so I took some scholarship and loan money to go to college.  I didn’t have a post-college plan, but I didn’t know what else to do, so putting the decision off for four more years was easier.  I chose a pretty not-outstanding major as far as jobs go because I still didn’t know what I wanted to do by my sophomore year.  That’s why, instead of picking anything practical, I picked what was interesting.  Everyone said I’d find out what I wanted to do when I got to college.  They lied to me.

Then came time to graduate from college, and the only exit plan I had come up with was “steal crap on my way out.”  It turns out that dry erase markers couldn’t pay off my student loans, however, so it was back to the drawing board.  Still no idea what to do, I kept going on the path of least resistance.  Library school.  Sure, what the hell, why not?  It didn’t seem like a hard job, I liked reading and libraries, and I didn’t know what else to do.  If I didn’t have such a horrific, paranoid fear of bugs, I honestly would have just been homeless by choice.  That’s how much I had no idea what to do.  Instead I chose library school, again doing the easy thing.

What if I’d done something different?  I still wonder what my life would be like—if I’d actually have one—if only I ever really wanted to do anything in particular.  If, instead of throwing a dart when I had to make a decision, I had been really into the idea of being a plumber, or dentist, or ninja.  If at any point in my life I would have had some burning passion.  Instead, I identify very much with the protagonist from Office Space.  We were supposed to imagine what we’d do if we could do anything we wanted for the rest of our lives, and that was supposed to be our career choice.  The problem is, there’s just nothing we wanted to do all of our lives. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do want to be a librarian.  I’ve enjoyed the work so far.  There are some parts I want to leave behind, and some parts I need to leave behind, and hopefully one day I’ll get the kind of library job I want so I’ll be able to.  But I do want to be a librarian.

But what if there had been a real passion in my life?  What if I were one of those kids who wanted to be a veterinarian from the age of 5 and worked my whole life with that goal in mind?  What if I swam against the current that took me to library school and ended up anywhere else?

The only problem is, even now when I try to imagine it, I can’t think of what that other path could possibly be.  The truth is, I never did have an interest in being a plumber or an exotic dancer.  What good is it to ask myself what I would have done differently when I still can’t even imagine how?  Even now I don’t know what my other option could possibly have been.  If I could hit reset and live it over again, I can’t imagine what I’d do instead of this.  

I guess it doesn’t help to imagine anyway.  After all, I’m a librarian.  I’m a librarian, writing this future blog post at 9:20 PM on a Monday, October 29^th, wrapped in a blanket despite being a little too warm, while avoiding grading some essays.  Just like I was always going to be.  And then in a few weeks or maybe over a month, I’ll post this. Whenever I do it, it’ll be when it was always going to happen.  There were different outcomes possible, but none of them were ever going to happen.  It may not be true that anything is meant to be, but everything that happens will be the only way it was ever going to happen.

I’ll never know what my other options were, and I was always going to be a hopeless, failed librarian.

What would I say to hopeful librarians?

This question makes me imagine going into a fit of wheezing coughs as I limp toward the asker while shouting: “HOPE?  ADANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER LIBRARY SCHOOL.”  But while imagining that in my head, here’s what I’d actually say:

Make sure this is what you want.  Make sure this is the greatest passion in your life, that you’d never want to do anything else for as long as you live.  If you think this “just seems like a nice job,” or “you’re not sure what else to do, but you like reading,” then I highly recommend that you fuck right off.  Treat this career like you’d treat the idea of being a rock star or an astronaut.  If it’s what you really want to do more than anything and you think you have the passion and drive, and you think you have what it takes to stand out, and you think that it’s something you absolutely have to try to do, then go ahead.  Try.  But don’t count on it being a sure thing.  Have a fallback plan.  Have two.  Try to make a go of it, but understand that the chances of success are pretty slim, and you can’t hang all of your hope on it.  And if you do succeed, it won’t be overnight.  You’ll be chipping away for years to gain any kind of ground.  Expect about 2 years in library school, and then 3-5 more years volunteering or working less than half-time before anything opens up for you.  Maybe more. 

Also, make sure you can go all out with it.  Don’t go for this career if you need to stay close to your family.  You have to be willing to go anywhere and take any kind of job.  Again, this needs to be your passion to the point where you’ll do anything it takes to get there.  If you aren’t passionate enough to relocate outside of a 3-hour radius, then you aren’t passionate enough to be employable in this field.

“That sounds rather pessimistic, it can’t be that bad,” you imagine. “I mean, just because you suck, that doesn’t mean that becoming a librarian is that fucking difficult.”  If you think I’m exaggerating, read this:

http://www.forbes.com/pictures/efkk45ifij/no-1-worst-masters-degree-for-jobs-library-and-information-science/

Yes, the MLIS is the worst Master’s degree for jobs.  Somehow—and I really don’t understand how this is possible since libraries are still things—but somehow, you would be more employable with a Master’s in French Literature.  Or History.  Or Art History.  Even fucking Communications. 

Yeah, it’s not just me.  This profession is the barren hellscape I described it as, and it will suck for anyone coming in recently.  The bottom line is, if you want to be a librarian, you’d better want to be a librarian.  You’d better want it so much that you’re willing to take a big risk for it, and you’re willing to make big sacrifices to make it.  If you just want to be a librarian because you “love to read,” then run.  Run now.  The field doesn’t need you.

What is wrong with me?

I was rejected from another job.  I’ll give you time to fish your monocle out of your drink before I continue. 

  

When you’re rejected from a job you’re lucky if you hear back from them.  These people not only informed me, but they did so by email, which allowed me to have a conversation with them.  This is that conversation:

OK, thank you for the reply.

May I ask you a question?  I've been trying to find full-time work in this field for 4 years now, and in all that time I've only had one* interview at a place where I didn't know someone who knew someone who worked there and was pushing heavily for me.  So I guess my question is, is there something in my resume or cover letter that made you say "Oh my God, no"?

The reply:

There are no problems with your support documents.  The applicant pools are so big now that others are just more qualified.  We do a high matrix that judges each applicant against each required qualification and preferred qualifications.  Each requirement has a weight assigned to it.  Each applicant is rated between 1 – 5.  When all are complete the system sorts them by high scoring applicants.  No one is saying you are not qualified; it is just that others were more highly qualified.  Do not give up.  Keep applying for any position you are interested in; let the department disqualify you; do not disqualify yourself. 

I hope this answers your questions.

Again, thank you for your interest in [REDACTED].

It was quite nice to get a reply. I guess the main reason I’m posting this is because it eliminates one of my main concerns: that there’s something on my resume or my cover letter templates that turns employers off like a fat, balding man in his 30s who has cartoon bedsheets and is exclusively into Asian women. As it turns out, no. The problem is simply that 3 years of experience just isn’t enough experience anymore. Not when the field is in such a dire condition. There is no job I can apply to that won’t have at least 100 other applicants, and some of those applicants will be people who have been in the field full-time for 5, 10, 15 years or more. The bottom line is, there is no room for me in this field, period. Not because of some typo on my resume I can fix, but because it’s full up and they do not need me, and they never will.



*This actually occurred before the WY interview/train wreck posted prior. I decided I'd better post this writing before it gets even more outdated. If it ever will.