I gave up

So, last year I was weighing some pretty heavy decisions about giving up.  Granted, I've been aware of that looming decision  ever since I began this blog-- my second ever post was titled: "Give Up."  But the end of 2017 is when it really reached the point where the ship had taken on so much water that it was now becoming urgent for me to get into a life raft, or fully embrace sinking to the bottom of the ocean.  As I weighed my options, I saw one last chance of rescue; a passing ship that just might be close enough to see my flare.

I realize I'm getting lost in metaphor as I tend to do, so to clarify: in late December, after having decided to throw in the towel, I got an email from a place on the other side of the country that wanted to interview me for a position.  So I decided, that's it.  This is my last chance.  Either I'm going to get this job, or I'm going to give up for good.  I'd get a minimum wage job working 40 hours a week while also teaching at night for another 9-16.  I'd live the kind of life I specifically never wanted: long hours, my life taken up by nothing but work, all just so I can scrape by.  I was going to be miserable, but I was out of options.  So everything is riding now on this one last chance.

Well... it started out well.  I had a phone interview in January.  It was actually quite promising.  They were impressed with my experience-- they even noted that it's unusual to get applicants with so much experience since it's an entry level job.  Oh, did I mention that?  It's an entry level job nearly 1000 miles away from me, in a part of the country where there are very few like-minded people, for a low (but at least livable) wage.  Yeah, in this "all or nothing" scenario, this is what I was considering the "all" to be.

Anyway, the phone interview was good and they invited me to their state-- again, almost 1,000 miles away-- for an in person interview.  This is where things went off the cliff.

I had to fly there.  I'd never flown.  This is the dead of Winter and I got a ride to the airport from my dad.  I guess it could have been worse.  I could have gotten onto the plane and it could have crashed.  As it turned out though, well, I've still never flown.

The flight got delayed.  Then it got delayed again.  And again.  And again.  I think I sat there for about 7 hours before it finally got cancelled.  So, the plane never took off.  They weren't able to get me onto another one that would have made it to the airport where my transferring flight was in time.  Oh, and did I mention that the place interviewing me was on a very tight schedule?    They probably wouldn't be able to reschedule.

I called the person who interviewed me.  The first words she says: "oh no, and you had such good references too."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.  That was not a good thing to hear.  I suggested possibly a skype interview.  She couldn't make any promises, but said she'd call me early in the morning.

I got a ride back home from my dad.  It was dark, the road conditions were terrible, and he even got lost for a bit.  That ride home, after sitting at the airport all day waiting for a plane that never took off, was just such a fitting end to my hopes of getting into this career.

I woke up very early in the morning after very little sleep in anticipation of that phone call.  The bad news was that, indeed, there would be no rescheduling of the flight.  The good news was that at least they could give me the skype interview.

Great.  I mean... I guess they tried.  It was something.  But crap, we know that the main point of an interview is getting to know the person a bit so you can decide if they'll fit in with your culture.  And when everyone else got to meet them in person and I just get a skype interview, suddenly my odds have gone from promising to dismal.  Can you imagine living the rest of your life in a completely miserable existence, all the while knowing that things could have been completely different if one tiny thing-- like a plane taking off-- had gone differently?

I did the best I could with what I had.  There was a presentation involved, and I had to do it over skype, but I made it work.  She sounded very impressed; when it was over she said: "you actually pulled it off!"  Great, that's a point for me.  Adaptability-- I demonstrated the hell out of adaptability.  But that was worth 1 point, and developing a rapport is worth 50, so I wasn't surprised when I heard the words: "We're interviewing other people."  After just a few months shy of 10 years of trying to break into the field, with those words I heard the last nail being pounded into the coffin.

They told me I'd hear back within a week, and there was nothing more to say at that point.  My last grasp for a life that wouldn't be completely miserable had just played out, and it was a huge disaster.

So anyway, they called me the next morning and I got the job.

Yeah... you read that right.  Don't believe it?  Well, neither do I.  Because it only happens that way in the movies.  I give up, and literally my last chance, that's when it falls into place?  That could almost only be fiction.  That's the climax of a Shakespearean play-- the hero (sure, I'm a hero >.>) is either at his lowest point and suffers a huge reversal of fortune, or vice versa.  Or a movie-- the hero is on his knees, about to be dealt the death blow by his foe, when he turns it all around and throws the dastardly villain off the cliff.  But these things don't happen in real life.

Part of me still has to wonder if maybe I got in the airplane and crashed and died, and now my mind is in some kind of fugue state, extrapolating what my life might have been from my arrival to the airport on.

This is getting to be a long post, so expect an epilogue to follow.  I don't know when, but hopefully before too long.

The ugly wall.

An update from my last post to begin:

First, I did not get that job I mentioned I'd applied for toward the end.  I did apparently do well enough to get an in-person interview and for them to ask me to consent to a background check, but it was just another case of "close but nothing," and as we know, close doesn't count for anything.  All nothings are equal, no matter how close to something that nothing was.

But the "good news" is that I actually do have a section of my usual job to teach after all; a section got added three days before the start of the semester, so I got it.  It's not going well for various reasons that I suppose would be tangential to get into, so I won't.

What I will get into is another reason I said "good news" in quotation marks above: namely, the fact that this job is no longer a sustainable option for me.

Now that they got rid of one of the two courses I'm qualified to teach, I can no longer count on this job to keep me in the black.  Time was that I could usually count on two sections per semester, and now I'm lucky if I get one.  Getting one is by no means guaranteed at all, and even if I were lucky enough to get just one per semester, that does not keep me in the black if I want any kind of entertainment budget.

I still have enough savings that I can keep this rate of pay up for quite a while, but I really don't want to see myself hemorrhaging all the safety net money I've worked so long to shore up.

So this brings me back to that age old question I've been asking myself ever since I began this blog in 2012: when do I finally stop throwing good years after bad, accept that it's time to walk away, and find some crap low-pay job that at least pays better than the job in my field I have now so I can join the ranks of the working poor where I clearly belong, according to the library profession that will not have me?

If I were smart, clearly I would have done this years ago.  But here's the thing.

I'm going to take you back to a time long ago, when I was in high school.  I don't like going back to this time, so I will try not to stay long.  But here's a story that relates to the problem I have today.

In high school, I had a friend.  I know, I'm surprised too.  Let's keep going.  I'd walk home from school with this friend every day.  I was about a 12 minute walk from home, and for him tack on another minute or so.

This friend started dating someone.  So it goes.  One day he told me he'd be out soon, that I could wait for him.  He was going to make out with this person in the cafeteria, where people cooler than me often hung out at the end of the day.  I didn't understand why the cool kids wanted to hang out at school of all places when the day was done, but whatever.

So I'm sitting at my locker, non-existent butt aching from the hard tile floor,  staring at the very ugly wall in front of me.  For 15 minutes.  20.  30.  45.  An hour.  Longer.

I don't remember how long I ended up waiting, but it was long enough for me to be justifiably mad.  He never came out to tell me, "just go on without me," because he figured that after 10 minutes I'd have figured that out for myself.

The problem wasn't that I was "too stupid" to figure out myself that I should just walk the 12 minutes home alone, like that's a big deal.  The problem was that I was always afraid that if I left, it could be literally three seconds after I walked away that he might have come back out of the cafeteria.  And every second longer I stayed, the more likely it was that the next second would finally be the one.  It wasn't that staying was the "smart" move, it was just the fear that, after having invested so much time into waiting, I could be throwing that away when just one more second might have made all of that waiting, while a waste, at least not a complete waste.  At least all of the time I'd spent staring at the wall wouldn't be for nothing.

That's where I am now.  I'm 34.  I've lost.  I'm too old to accomplish the non-career goals I had in life (which were more important that my career goals to me).  It's over.  My life is ruined because of all of this waiting for my MLIS to pay off so I could finally pursue those goals.  At this point I should probably just cut my losses, join the working poor, and while away the end of my life because there's fuck else for me to do.

Yet here I sit staring at an ugly wall, because if I walk away now, I'll never know if waiting just one more month would have finally made all of these years something less than a complete waste.

The happiest of holiday news...

My situation for the past 6+ years has been that I’m a severely underemployed librarian; I teach info lit as an adjunct and make just enough to cover gas, car insurance, and student loans with a little leftover for a CD (because I’m old) or a bottle of scotch (because I’m awesome) or whatever now and then.  Meanwhile I'm living with my parents at 34 because after that I have not enough money left for food and rent because my life choice to be a librarian was terrible, which is what my entire blog is about. 

OK, so my situation has changed.  For the next 4 months of my life (at least) I am not an underemployed librarian anymore! No, I’m just straight up unemployed now, and just in time for the holidays.  Yeah, so that has now happened.  There wasn’t room for me on the schedule for next semester.

To be clear, this is not because of my performance.  As far as adjuncts go, I tend to be taken care of, in part because my boss is nice and knows my life sucks, but also in part because I’m actually pretty darn good at what I do.  No, the enrollment just wasn’t high enough and the full timers need to be put on the schedule first, so I’m out.

And now I get to figure out what to do for four months, and this is not wonderful.  My options for employment outside of my field are just about as good as options inside my field, which is one of the several reasons that supplementing my income with another part time job hasn’t been an option to begin with.

Problem one: I am a very small, weak person.  Last I stepped on a scale, I was 108 lbs of nothing that even remotely resembled a muscle.  I have a frame and a back that were simply not designed for digging ditches, hauling pig iron, or pulling rickshaws.  Hard physical labor is not an option.

Problem two: I have very little in the way of experience in anything outside of my field.  An office job would be doable—in fact I kind of enjoy mindless data entry.  But how often exactly do you see office jobs that don’t require years of experience?  I do have a couple years of very part-time experience in an office, but that organization has since folded (not my fault, promise), and my old boss is, um, probably dead.  That was not a joke, by the way; I think she literally died.  The organization was the two of us—her as the executive and me as the assistant—so there’s really no one around to prove I ever did it, much less speak to whether or not I was any good at it.

Problem three: I can also cross giving blood off the list.  I looked into it and you apparently need to be at least 110 lbs, and you can refer to problem one to see why that’s a no go.  That’s right; I’m not even qualified to give blood.

So I’m seeing three options in front of me.

Option one: Coincidentally, before this crap went down I applied to another crap, no pay, horrible hours job in my field that would put me behind a reference desk in an academic library, and I just had a phone interview that wasn’t a disaster as far as I could tell, so maybe I’ll get this job.  Putting aside the hours that will see me being awake for 18-19 hours straight on Sundays and then driving home at night in that sleep deprived state, this would actually be pretty great in the fact that it would give me more varied experience for my resume.

Option two: Cashier.  I wouldn’t be making much money, but “literally better than nothing” is pretty much my only salary requirement right now, and this is something I could physically handle that wouldn't necessarily require a lot of experience.  I would not love this job, but a librarian’s gotta do what a librarian’s gotta do (and in most cases this means “anything but actually be a librarian”).

Option three: Start studying science.  Master the field.  Invent a time machine, go back to me at 22 and tell myself, “DON’T BECOME A FUCKING LIBRARIAN.”

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.

Calculating infinity

Followers of this blog (i.e., me) know that there has been a recent improvement in the number of interviews I've managed to get.  Those of you just tuning in, let me get you up to speed:

My MLIS was earned in May 2008.  I had one interview for a full time position that year.  There was, luckily, that less than halftime position that took me on, which is how I've been lucky enough to have been getting experience since then (although, not gainful employment).

In 2009 I had no interviews.  That's right, an entire year went by of applying to positions all over the country, and not one single person interviewed me.  For an entire year.

Then that happened again in 2010.  Then in 2011.  Then most of 2012.

Yes, seriously.  Four straight years SOLID of applying to jobs and not one single place would even grant me an interview.  That was one hell of a streak.

Then something happened.  After five years of paying my dues at my less than halftime job, I managed to get an interview in October 2012.  By the same time a year later I had had two more.  And one of them went all the way to round three before I was obliterated.  Then another one in May of this year, and finally, one I have yet to mention, another web interview for a position in Arkansas last month (which I obviously didn't get).

So all together that's:

08=1
09=0
10=0
11=0
12=1
13=2
14=2 (so far, just past half in).

Let's put aside the fact that seven sets of numbers doesn't reveal a pattern.  If these numbers were completely random, this would mean nothing.  But they're not completely random.  My increased experience is a factor, and what these numbers reflect is that opportunity is increasing for me.

...Or is it?

You see, I have a fear that I touched on before, but it especially bears repeating now.  The fear is that my experience is actually worthless.  True, the number of years I have on my resume is opening some doors as far as getting to the interview is concerned.  But what happens when I'm in the interview and they start asking me about what I've done so far?

Here's what they'll discover: 100% of that experience is just instruction.  that's it.  Sure I can say that helping students one on one in the classroom counts as reference, but no one seems to buy that.  I put it out there every single time, and every single time I can tell the interviewers consider it a stretch, even if they don't say it.  And if I want to say I've done collection development I have to go all the way back to my fieldwork and volunteer experience about 4 years ago.  If they want to know about my experience marketing the library, or cataloging, or programming, I've got nothin'.

I've been working in this field for 5 years, and aside from a short time doing fieldwork and volunteering, none of it has been in the library.  And this is what is being discovered about me when I interview.  So while I'm getting more interviews, I'm not sure if my current amount of experience is actually valuable at all in terms of actually landing a job.

As it is I'm limited to applying for academic instruction positions.  That's where my experience is, and I've now been typecast in that role.  I have never gotten an interview for a public library, even an "entry level" position (although, I don't really believe there is such a thing as a true "entry level" position anymore, since you need experience for any job you apply to).  I haven't even been interviewed for the position of page or shelver in a public library, and oh yes, I have sunk low enough to apply to those.  As far as academic libraries go, it has been all instruction.  And that's fine, I like instruction.  But there's still that matter of actually landing the job.

The bad news, again, is that my experience may be like that woman who only looks good from far away.  Once the employers get my resume up close, they may be shuddering upon seeing its acne, lazy eye, and 5 o' clock shadow.  At this point I have no idea if what I've been doing is "good enough" to get me a real job.  Ever.

At this point an optimist would say that the interview increase is still good news, because even without great experience I can now go in and sell myself.  For people with natural salesmanship, this would indeed be good news.  For someone who is a salesmanship black hole, on the other hand, this is not good news.  And guess which one I am.

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.

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.

Mistaken identity

Yeahhhh, that interview did not go well.  Not even at all.

I fumbled, probably sounded very nervous.  The interview was blocked for an hour, and the email said it would be about 45 minutes.  It went 30.

But that's not really how I knew it went wrong.  No, that moment came when they asked about my online teaching experience because that was what caught their eye on my cover letter.

ummmmmmmmmmm.....

I don't have experience teaching online.  And I sure as hell didn't lie and say I did on my cover letter.  The only reason I can think of for her getting that impression is because I do have experience creating online web tutorials.  But teaching online?  nope, never.

So the entire reason I got an interview at all is because someone misread my cover letter.

The moment I said that I didn't have experience teaching online, I could almost hear the entire search committee audibly deflate.  I imagined them shooting each other looks, perhaps covering the receiver and mouthing: "oh s**t."  The entire tone of the interview went south immediately.  It was admirable of them not to hang up on me right then and there.

I was going to say after the interview, no matter how it went, how encouraging it was that someone at least showed interest in me.  That it was evidence that things weren't completely hopeless, that my credentials and experience are good enough for potential employment after all.

But nope, it turns out that the interest in me wasn't based on anything real.  It was just a mistake, that's all.

So, that explains how I got an interview for a job that I didn't seem like a good candidate for.  It's just too bad that I couldn't get something out of this experience, namely, like I said, the hope that comes with having a place show interest in me.  I just found out the cute girl was only flirting with me because she was drunk, and when the beer goggles came off and she saw the real me, she muttered something about quitting drinking and making amends with her father.  Then she ran for the toilet and I never saw her again.

I have the employability only a mother could love.

So what do I do?

This may not be the most interesting post, but I feel I have to get it out of the way.  As I lay my life before you, it will be relevant to know where I'm currently working.  I did mention already, after all, that I have 3 years of experience in my field.  You may already be wondering where I was able to find it.

I teach semester-long courses on information literacy at a career college (I also taught technology literacy, before they did away with the course).  “Teaching at a college?,” asks my reader (I know better than to pluralize that) with genuine surprise.  “Why that sounds rather sexy, what are you so bitter about?” 

Oh, well I’m sorry to have come off as bitter.  I was aiming for honest, it just happens that honesty always sounds like bitterness.  If it doesn’t, you’re not being fully honest.  These writings come from a place of sincerity, I assure you. 

But in answer to your question, the problem is that I’m an adjunct, and the job is less than part time.  How many classes I teach, and consequently, how much I get paid, depends on the semester.  At best, I’m less than half-time.  At worst, I’m breaking even after paying for student loans, gas, and car insurance.  And I mean dead even, give or take, with nothing left over. 

The job itself isn’t bad.  It has ups and downs.  I enjoy the people I work with, and I more often than not enjoy the students.  But it can be more work than the pay is worth, and I’m definitely far from having a life of my own.  Ultimately it's not where I want to be.  I want something with better and more structured hours.  Working nights makes me depressed, and not having structured hours (i.e., grading and prep time done at home) means I'll take 8 hours to do something that should take 2 because of ADD.  I want a job that I go to in the morning, get my work done at work, then come home and am off the clock.  But listen to me being picky.  Obviously I'll take whatever I can get at this point, and that's why I have what I have.  It's all I can get.

As far as experience goes, I'm not sure how far this job really takes me.  It is 3 years, but not 3 years full-time.  And the experience I get from it is specifically in instruction, I don't actually work in the library itself.  While this may be better than "fresh out of library school with only fieldwork under my belt" (especially since I do someday hope to have a job with an instruction component) I'm not sure if I'm really doing my resume that big of a favor.  I'm starting to think I may be better off to stop sinking my time into this job and find something I can get more money for, even if the "more money" job is something like a Wal-Mart greeter that will net me no career experience.  So far I've prioritized experience over money, but is this experience actually worth anything anymore?  Especially now that I'm facing the fact that it may be best to stop hoping to get a job in my field anymore, I just don't know.