As a young child, I was convinced that being able to read and write was an adult conspiracy to keep the kids down. I felt that if I could crack the code on those two skills, I would be made in the shade.
And then, thanks to patience of family and teachers, and mostly normal childhood development, I did. I learned to read and to write, and it. was. glorious.
I couldn’t get enough of either.
When it came to (hand)writing, I became a pen and paper snob. Hardcore. Still true to this day. If I have to write for any academic purpose, I draft long hand, on paper. I have so many sketchbooks and journals (and it’s only gotten worse since I started making my own)…
As for reading, I spent a whole bunch of time in my school and public libraries.
Guys, they let you take books home, and you don’t have to pay for them! Any books you want! And then… you can bring those books back and GET MORE. (And now, you can even get movies.)
Libraries were made for kids like me, who appreciated a little bit of order and some peace and quiet.
The librarians of my childhood were some of my favorite people. I could go to them with any requests for subjects (dancers, mysteries, biographies…) and they had recommendations for me, and almost always, they were very good recommendations, even when I was like, “I want to read about a smart kid who nobody gets… and I want the story to have a dog in it.”
I volunteered in my middle school library at lunchtime, shelving books, working the desk, doing easy office work. The space was quiet and felt safe. And I felt like I knew what I was doing (that part may be debatable, but it was a nice feeling for a 7th/8th grader).
Over the years, learning to navigate the library for information became a source of personal pride, and power. The more I used the library, the better I got at using the library. The more I explored how information is structured and shared, the better able I was to navigate that world.
By the time I got to college, I could navigate libraries — any libraries — with ease. It was back in the old days — as libraries were transitioning to digital — when card catalogs were still a thing, when publication indexes (I really want to say indices here, but whatever) were printed volumes, and when interlibrary loan was the way books and articles were shared. ILL was my research lifeline, and I used it happily and often.
When I started working after college, I moved into networked information sharing (the internet was around, but not as widely used as it is now), and I got to work with some really elegantly designed databases. A good database is beautiful, and powerful, and supremely useful. (A poorly designed database is a pain in the ass. It takes enormous skill and a lot of practice to make a robust, elegant database.)
While living in NYC, I investigated an MLIS, which would have taken me back to a library of some kind, but a) I would have had to quit my job, and b) I would have had to take out massive student loans. I couldn’t afford to do either, so I shelved the idea. It was the right decision at the time.
Fast forward to now. My graphic design “career” is on ice (killed by a combination of my loss of interest, a bunch of interesting volunteer commitments, and pandemic response), online instruction has gotten a lot more refined, some graduate programs have started catering to people who already have lives, and a few of them have dropped the GRE requirement.
I found one of those. In January 2023, I start the MLIS program at San Jose State University. Completely online (since 2009!), fully accredited, no GRE requirement, and I won’t have to take out loans.
It’s bittersweet, because although I will be a librarian at the end of it, it is unlikely that I will work in a traditional library. Libraries are perpetually underfunded, and the cultural expectations for librarians — as substitutes for social workers — are wildly inappropriate. (Social workers have skills and training that librarians do not. Like librarians — and teachers, and nurses — they are also under-appreciated, under-resourced, and underpaid.)
And while I would love to be as influential for some kid as my school librarians were for me, schools don’t hire MLIS grads much anymore — many school librarians are paraprofessionals these days. (This is not a knock on paraprofessionals in any way, but working as a school librarian with an MLIS is less realistic than it used to be — you’re more likely to be in management outside of the library).
So I hope to combine my experience with my interests, and work with information in digital spaces. There will probably be some programming, and maybe some of my design experience will come into play. I would love to find a way to combine my interest in climate change mitigation/natural resource conservation/naturalist experience with this new endeavor. The world is big, and exceptionally diverse — there have to be points of connection somewhere.
I’m excited. I share interests with a lot of people who can’t be fenced in — they need to be outside, or teaching, and some of them want to be in the back country. I may be able to do what they don’t want to do; sit still long enough to share information and data. Maybe we can help each other out.
Carmen Yount 