Quality Time: The Presentation That Changed My Work Life

Have you ever learned something that radically changed the way you work? I experienced that kind of paradigm shift this summer during a Professional Development Day on my campus.

The session was on time management, led by David Gurzick, a professor of management at Hood College. I walked in expecting to hear about tools like Trello and Evernote, or maybe bullet journaling. But the session wasn’t about the HOW or WHAT, but the WHEN. Using workplace research and Daniel Pink’s book When: The Scientific Secrets of Perfect Timing, Dr. Gurzick talked us through how our brains function throughout the day, and how to match the right task to the right time. Dr. Gurzick’s talk and the book When have transformed how I structure my day.

Both Dr. Gurzick and When emphasize the importance of timing and becoming aware of what researchers have found to be the natural pattern of the average work day. Over the course of a day, most peoples’ moods follow a consistent pattern that starts high in the morning, dips in the afternoon, and rises for the rest of the evening. Pink calls these phases of the day the peak, trough, and recovery:

Image of graph that spikes, dips low, and gradually rises again over the period of 12 hours.

“During the peak, which for most of us is the morning, we’re better at analytic tasks. That’s when we’re most vigilant, when we’re able to bat away distractions and concentrate deeply. During the trough, which for most of us is the early-to-mid-afternoon, we should do our administrative tasks—answering routine emails, filling out expense reports. And during the recovery, which for most of us is the late afternoon and early evening, we’re better at insight problems. Our mood then is better than during the trough. And we’re less vigilant than during the peak. That looseness—letting in a few distractions—opens us to new possibilities and boosts our creativity.” (Daniel Pink, interview on Scientific American)

Being invited to notice this pattern hidden in everyday life was personally revolutionary. I can easily see the clear rhythm of peak-trough-recovery in my day. And if this pattern doesn’t resonate with you, you might be a night owl. For night owls this rhythm is actually reversed – you wake up in the recovery phase, hit your trough in the middle of the day, and are the most alert to detail in a peak phase till bedtime.

So how did I work these ideas into my library life? Well, at my library we don’t have a strict schedule for desk shifts. Like I imagine many directors and department heads, my boss doesn’t direct my day hour by hour. So I have at least the illusion that I’m in charge of how I spend my time, which can be both good and bad. There are definitely days where I feel like I’ve lost half the day fighting my own distractions and discouragements.

In fact, during the quiet of the summer, structuring my own day was particularly challenging. Without classes to teach or students to interrupt me, I struggled to prioritize tasks. My habit was to do the “easy” things first, like reading email and shelving books. What I didn’t realize until Dr. Gurzick’s talk was that I was wasting my strongest brainpower on the tasks that required the least attention and energy. Simply by becoming aware of when I focus best and when my mood is the most hopeful, I have been able to harness the work hours more effectively. For example, I’m working on this blog post at 11:00 in the morning because I know this is the best time for me to write thoughtfully.

Dr. Gurzick also shared this matrix, which illustrates a few types of work that we all have to do every day:

2x2 grid that shows an axis of high to low engagement and an axis of high to low challenge. Highly engaged, not challenging work = rote; Hihgly engaged, challenging work = "focus"; Low engagement, low challenge = "bored"; low engagement, high challenge = "frustrated"From Bored Mondays and Focused Afternoons: The Rhythm of Attention and Online Activity in the Workplace by Gloria Mark, Shamsi T. Iqbal, Mary Czerwinski, Paul Johns

In the mornings, I am tempted to do “rote” work: tasks I find fun but not challenging, like shelving books or cutting out images for the bulletin board. According to When, this is my peak time – the time for vigilance and analysis. So now instead of wasting my sharpest attention on clip art, I tackle writing first thing in the morning. An unexpected benefit of this: the afternoons are more fun, now that I’m not forcing myself through punishingly slow writing sessions. I’ve learned to downshift into rote tasks that match my energy level during the afternoon slump.

I also let this awareness of my brain’s peak, trough, and recovery times help me choose meeting and break times strategically. Although I might have no say in when a class takes place, if I’m scheduled to teach right after lunch (during my sleepy time), I might take a brisk walk to jumpstart my mind.

When you learn a new way of seeing the world that resonates, it’s hard not to evangelize it to everyone you meet. “Hey, have you heard of minimalism?” “Have you ever tried yoga?” But one gem from this book did catch on with my co-workers – the reason we’ve all been crabby and directionless during our staff meetings is because we keep scheduling them for the end of the day! We now shoot for 10:00 or 11:00 am, when people are more alert and less prone to pessimism.

You don’t always have control of what you need to do in a given workday, and sometimes your day is derailed by the surprises of librarianship. But being aware of your brain’s peak functioning times may help you structure your day to best advantage. Especially if you have some flexibility in your daily schedule, I recommend checking out Pink’s book and thinking about what you do when.

Notes:

  • Many thanks to David Gurzick for his talk and sharing his slides with me!
  • For a preview of Daniel Pink’s book, you can check out this planner he has made available online.

Emerging as a Community-Engaged Librarian: Reflections on the Emerging Engagement Scholars Workshop

Context of the workshop

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to participate in the Emerging Engagement Scholars Workshop (EESW), sponsored by the Engagement Scholarship Consortium. This workshop is meant for PhD students and junior faculty who consider themselves engaged scholars or aspire to be engaged scholars. For those who don’t know about engaged scholarship, just look up Ernest Boyer, he’s the guy around this topic. At its core, engaged scholarship is about academia collaborating with the local community to share and leverage expertise and ultimately, make social change.

The workshop is meant to give participants an inside scoop on the history and current context of the field, connect them with their peers and mentors, and in general, get jazzed around doing community engaged scholarship. All workshop participants brought in a community project, and we had several hours of dedicated mentor time to talk through these projects and make some strides forward. I decided to explore building a community of practice for the undergraduate interns at our library (more on that later).

I have been wanting to participate in this workshop for a few years now, mainly based on a recommendation from my graduate school mentor, Martin Wolske.  I’d say Martin was the one who showed me what community engaged scholarship could like for librarians. He did that through his day-to-day work as a community member and librarian and by bringing me on as a Community Ambassador for the grant, Digital Literacy for ALL Learners, where community-engaged scholarship was the first outside the class thing I did in graduate school.

Overall, the workshop, and corresponding conference, was great. I did learn a lot, found some new language to talk about my job, and connected with new people. While I made an initial stab at my thoughts post workshop on Twitter, below is an expanded version of what I took away from participating in EESW.

Questions of identity

The workshop was billed as a space for PhD students and junior faculty (me). PhD students outnumbered junior faculty at least 2-1, which was not usually the case at previous iterations of this workshop. I was also the only librarian at the workshop, which meant I got to have a lot of conversations about what I do and why I was a participant with EESW.

At times I felt a little out of place. As with any space where you’re the sole librarian, there are questions about what we’re doing in that academic space. Do we actually do scholarship? What does an LIS research agenda look like? Can we really achieve tenure? As expected, talking about my faculty status, my ability to achieve tenure, and my research interests was the way in, and I definitely opened up some eyes. I will say that this space was incredibly welcoming; I had thoughtful peers who wanted to ask questions about my job and share experiences they have had with their subject librarians. My assigned mentor, Diane Doberneck, was also amazing. She’s doing great work at Michigan State and had such insightful feedback for my project around building a community of practice.

This workshop also reminded me that I do know a lot, more than I give myself credit. For example, we spent one section of the workshop talking about the tenure process and how to write about engaged scholarship in your dossier. While some PhD students had never discussed what tenure looks like, I felt prepared for the conversations and actually made good strides on my dossier (draft due soon!). Or, in one of our mentoring sessions, we talked about frameworks that supported our community projects and I was able to share reading suggestions (like Dorothea Kleine’s Choice Framework and Kimberlé Crenshaw’s many articles on intersectionality). In those moments, I felt like a librarian, passing along information, while also showcasing a bit of my expertise.   

Where do I want to go? And why am I doing this work?

As the workshop progressed, a few questions kept popping up for me. The first was, “Where do I want to go with this work?” And that question was quickly followed by “Why am I doing this work?”

Bottomline, I want to be a community-engaged librarian scholar. In learning about librarianship, it has always been in relation to communities – the community of Mt. Horeb, Wisconsin, New York City, Urbana, IL, and now, Penn State. As a librarian, I do my job better when I listen, include, leverage, and support communities. Decisions about services, resources, and programs should be made with the community, not on behalf of the community. Communities can be vibrant, complex, come with a lot of baggage, embrace a rich history and traditions, or be ready for change. I love discovering all those threads as a librarian.

Furthermore, I see community engaged scholarship as a foundation of my research agenda. The work I’ve been doing as the Student Engagement Librarian has been building relationships, getting to know the various communities I engage with; these relationships will allow us to conduct meaningful research. To be a community-engaged librarian scholar means that understanding and working with communities not only drive forward my day-to-day, but influence and shape my research. Everything I do should be in service to or connected to the communities.

Finding the language and lingo

Recently, as my second-year tenure documentation due date looms, I’ve been low key freaking out. Some of the freak out was due to the me wanting to be intentional about how I build my dossier and the words I use to describe my work. I wanted to paint of picture that both my tenure colleagues AND my non-librarian colleagues can understand. This pressure, totally put on by myself, stopped me cold from getting some of that legwork for my dossier completed.

This workshop was exactly the push I needed to think about that language again. Our pre-readings and then workshop conversations highlighted how I could use community-engaged scholarship lingo to describe my work. I am grounded in community, and for me, I define and work mainly with communities connected to Penn State – undergraduate students, library student employees, undergraduate and student affairs professionals, and my Commonwealth library colleagues. I am hoping framing my work through a community engaged scholarship lens will resonate with others (we shall see!).  

What’s next?

Well, I have emerged as an engaged (librarian) scholar. I’m glad I had the opportunity to participate in the workshop and know those conversations will stick with me for the next few months. I would encourage others to consider applying and attending this workshop, especially for those who work closely with communities, in academia or with the local community. Does anyone else do engaged scholarship at your institution and if so, what does it look like? I’m always trying to find more community engaged librarians!  


Featured image by Park Troopers on Unsplash

Finding My Voice

Editor’s Note: We welcome Emily Hampton Haynes to the ACRLog team. Emily is a Reference and Education Services Librarian at Hood College of Maryland. Her research interests include information literacy, pedagogy, and outreach.

After grad school and learning on the job, I have been trying to ease into the discourse of our profession. One big step for me was to co-present a session at a local library conference (TCAL in Maryland). Our session was called Self-Care Isn’t Selfish: How Mindfulness Practices Can Benefit Librarians and Library, and discussed how mindfulness can improve an employee’s workplace wellbeing and performance, particularly in fields requiring emotional labor. Presenting at my first conference was an incredibly satisfying experience, from the support of the conference committee to presenting with a colleague I have a lot of chemistry with. But there was one takeaway I hadn’t expected: the feeling of having a voice in librarianship.

I’ve been to several conferences during and since library school, and I walked into them with wide eyes and the expectation that I’d be meeting loads of library folks between sessions and during meals. Up until TCAL, I’d exchanged as many business cards as I’d had meaningful conversations (zero). What was that about? Was it me, that I couldn’t overcome the shyness I wear comfortably, like an oversized sweater? Was it that conferences take a lot out of people, and most of us just want to check our phones (aka refresh Library Twitter) and drink water between sessions? Or was it something else?

Scholarship as a Conversation, has always been the ACRL information-literacy frame that resonated with me most. I was introduced to the Burke metaphor my third year of undergrad, in a literary criticism class. To hear as a 20-year-old that I am in conversation with Brontë critics (and maybe even Brontë herself) was a shift in mindset that transformed the rest of my time as an English major. And it took about two and a half years on the job to feel that same shift as a librarian.

Growing professional confidence seems to have come to me in stages: first, I had to understand the lay of the land at my first job. Then I learned to connect the day-to-day responsibilities with the theories and values I’d studied in library school. Following library listservs, bloggers I respect, and formal library research was a way to listen and learn. And the process of researching, proposing, and presenting a talk was the next major step. I entered the parlor, I listened for a while, and I contributed my own thought to the “unending conversation.”

TCAL was so welcoming largely because it was a local academic library conference designed to facilitate that warm conversation between peers. But I’d attended TCAL a previous year, and I’d perched on the edge of my chair and spoke very little – not even to ask questions. The difference for me this year was great: I felt like I had a seat at a table I didn’t realize was too tall for me before. Moving through a space as Someone Who Has Something To Say shifted my sense of belonging, and for the first time I experienced the satisfaction of real participation in my field. And that was thrilling.

The sensation of having a voice unlocks new thresholds of confidence in me. Until I stepped into the classroom, I didn’t think I could teach students only a few years my junior. Until I submitted a proposal to a conference, I didn’t think it would be accepted. Until I spoke in front of colleagues, I didn’t realize I was part of a larger professional community. I believe it could be the same for you. Until you try it out, you may not realize that you have a voice here. Join the conversation.

Amping up Diversity & Inclusivity in Medical Librarianship

This past week, I attended the 118th Medical Library Association (MLA) Annual Meeting in Atlanta, GA. While it was a standard conference in many respects, it was also a historic one. Beverly Murphy was named the first African American president of MLA since it was incepted in 1898.

When I first considered becoming a librarian, I quickly learned about #critlib, which centers the impact of oppression and marginalization of the many –isms in librarianship. I wanted to be in a profession where I could provide information in a critical way, dismantling library neutrality. I found this through a hashtag which allowed me to meet diverse, inspiring, kind, and intelligent librarians. However, I find it slightly more difficult to apply a social justice framework as an academic medical librarian focusing upon the School of Medicine. I have tried my best through critical search strategies and educating others about bias within publishing. And of course, subject areas specific to public and/or global health easily lend themselves to health disparities. Overall though, I have noticed that medical librarianship has been slower to the game, especially in terms of coming together as a community. During this meeting, however, it felt different.

The annual Janet Doe lecture was given by Elaine Martin, focused upon social justice. I have listened to some talks concerning social justice that just scratch the surface. They seem to give a nod to diversity as more of a check box rather than a critical interpretation and call for action. However, Elaine stressed mass incarceration as a public health issue; she emphasized dismantling library neutrality; she quoted Paulo Freire, the author of the seminal Pedagogy of the Oppressed. She received a standing ovation. It was inspiring, and while it may have just been pure emotion, it gave me hope.

I also attended a Diversity & Inclusivity Fishbowl session by MLA’s Diversity and Inclusivity Task Force. During a fishbowl, a moderator poses a question to a group of individuals seated in a few concentric circles. In our case, there were around 30 of us. There were four seats in the innermost circle, and the individuals in that circle answered the question and can be “tapped out” by others in the outside circles who wish to speak. Unless we were in the inner circle, we were solely active listeners. I’m not going to lie, when I saw the format of this meeting, which was three days into the conference and from 5:00 p.m.-6:30 p.m., I dreaded it. But I also knew this was an important issue. Not only did I feel welcome, but I enjoyed the structured yet conversational format. It can be difficult to talk about diversity and inclusion because everyone’s positions are well-intentioned, however, because this is an issue that historically induces trauma upon the marginalized, it can become very passionate. This passion is essential for affecting change, and this format provided a way to combine this passion with respect and compassion. While this is just the beginning of these discussions, it is important to understand perspectives, especially for those greatly affected by oppressions. It was assuring to see so many people coming together while sharing their individual experiences and beliefs for a topic I thought was somewhat dormant within medical librarianship. And, because of the incoming presidency of Beverly Murphy, I am full of hope and faith that events like these will result in an action plan.

I can’t say that I remember everything that Beverly said during the talk she gave after being named the new MLA president. But I can tell you how I felt in response. First, Beverly did not stand at the podium when delivering her words. She sat at a table on the stage to be in conversation with the MLA members. She included song, humor, and love in her words. It was warm. It was inviting. And given the previous events I witnessed, it felt promising. She incorporated the importance of diversity and inclusivity, so it wasn’t a mere check box. Rather, it was always part of the conversation. Just two days before, I met Beverly at the New Members Breakfast. As a co-convener of the MLA New Members Special Interest Group (SIG), I was interested in how we can further engage new members. Shannon Jones, the founder of the New Members SIG, was eager to share ideas with me and introduced me to Beverly, who immediately stated her commitment to advocating for new members. She also told me that she was asking first-time attendees she met to share their experiences, positive and negative, and to contact her directly. Real change comes from strong leaders and action. And diversity is more than an initiative – it is a way of being. Regardless of topic, subject area, or library role, it needs to be part of all we do. Beverly is firm in this commitment:

“No matter what race we are, what color we are, what ethnicity we are, what gender we have, or whether we have physical issues – we are all information professionals, with a common goal, and that is ‘to be an association of the most visible, valued, and trusted health information experts.’ Diversity drives excellence and makes us smarter, especially when we welcome it into our lives, our libraries, and our profession.” – Beverly Murphy

The solidarity and volume is increasing for diverse voices in medical librarianship, becoming a stronger driver for diverse and inclusive representation, pedagogy, scholarship, community, and more and vice versa. I know that equity of race, sexual orientation, gender, and ability is a long road. And I am appreciative we are on it.

 

I Liked, I Wished, I Wondered: A One-Year Review

One year ago today I flew one-way from ORD to LAX for my first real librarian job (and obviously for the weather). I’m going to take an assessment nugget I once learned from Jennifer Brown, Emerging Technologies Librarian at Columbia University and reflect upon this time using the following measurements: I Liked, I Wished, I Wondered.

I Liked

I liked plenty thus far as a Health & Life Sciences Librarian at UCLA. Most importantly, I am grateful for my work colleagues. I work with people that truly care about learning and how it is reflected within library practices. I work with inspiring and supportive people of color. I work with people that have more to talk about than libraries (this is so important!). While I didn’t necessarily imagine myself working as a librarian in the sciences, I like working in this domain! While I have health sciences experience from working as a speech-language pathologist,, I didn’t appreciate scientific research, its importance, its limitations, and its possibilities, as much as I do now. The sciences seemed a bit intimidating in the beginning, but I have been pleasantly surprised at how accessible it can be, even if someone doesn’t have a sciences background (or even an interest…I am curious how much these are linked). I also like the new matrixed organizational structure within the UCLA Library. It allows for librarians to do a little bit of everything while focusing on a specific area: Collections, Outreach, Research Assistance, Research Partnerships, or Teaching and Learning. This encourages communication across units. For example, I am on the Teaching and Learning Team with the Visual Arts Librarians. This is not a librarian with whom I would typically interact, however, this allows for collaboration, transparency, and information dissemination in seemingly unrelated functions and subject areas. Did I mention that I also like (LOVE) the weather? UCLA is a gorgeous campus all, come visit!

I Wished

I wished I came into my position having a better grasp of collections and scholarly communication. These are essential parts of my everyday duties, and while I have learned these functions over time, I think I would have hit the ground running a bit faster if I did a better job of taking a collections class or participating in a collections and/or scholarly communication focused internship during my MLIS.

I wished I had more time! There are moments where it’s hard to stay focused. This is likely due to a combination of my slightly average organizational skills and saying yes to opportunities. I do think I have been saying yes for the right reasons. I want to be of service, test my capacity in my role, and see what I liked (see above). The good news is that certain responsibilities do not last forever, and now I do have a better idea about what I would like to keep pursuing, what might make sense to stop in a year or two, and what to say yes/no to next time around. I want to be mindful of librarian burnout, so while I’m happy to try it all out, I don’t want to resent the profession either.

I Wondered

I wondered how things would be different if what I wished and what I liked had worked in concert. I wonder where I would be if I hadn’t come to UCLA. I wonder if I prefer to manage others or work as a subject or functional liaison. Will I stay in health sciences librarianship or would I branch out to other areas? I have truly enjoyed diving into medical librarianship, but I have wondered if a I would be better suited to focus upon a functional area. I enjoy pedagogy, active learning, outreach, and connecting different campus partners – perhaps there is a place for me in these areas? I enjoy wondering about this all at UCLA because the matrixed organization and professional development opportunities allow me to explore. I have also wondered if I will stay at an R1 institution, make the jump to a community college, or even try my hand in public libraries.

What Now?

I have always disliked the idea of having a 5-year or 10-year plan. I believe in intention, serendipitous moments, and blending that with your personal drive and abilities. I did not come to librarianship through a straight path, and, while I don’t want to change my career again, I am open to different possibilities that can harness and enhance my skill set. Writing this out has definitely forced me to reflect upon the past year, see how far I have come and what the future might hold. One year down and many more to go!

What are some different ways you taken assessment of your career path as a librarian?