First Year Reflections

Tuesday of last week, August 4, marked one year in my role at Vanderbilt. The time has flown by! One of my goals for the summer was to reflect on my first year as a librarian and to plan for the second year based on what I’d learned. Although I haven’t had as much time for that reflection as I’d hoped, for my final post as a First-Year Academic Librarian blogger, I wanted to share a few lessons learned that I’m planning to build on during the upcoming year:

Be proactive

I started this job last year only three weeks before the first day of fall classes. Although it felt like enough of a head start at the time, especially considering that I had only moved to Nashville a few weeks prior, I wish that it had been possible for me to start earlier. As it was, there were several classes that I had to get ready to teach or co-teach at the last minute, relationships with the department I support that I was trying to build in a hurry, and a lot of basic information about how everything worked that I had to learn. Even with support from the other librarians at my library, plus our library director, it all felt like a whirlwind.

One example of something that I wish I could have planned better for was when I met individually with around 25 students from the same degree program, almost all in October, for research appointments. I realized about halfway through the appointments that the students all needed help with the same skills – choosing databases and learning how to search with Boolean terms – and that it would be a lot more efficient for everyone’s time if I could have taught all the students that in one instruction session. This year, I reached out to the appropriate professor in late July and asked if I could come to a class early in the semester to teach everyone the basics of a library search. Happily, she enthusiastically agreed. My hope is that this year, I’ll be able to spend my appointments with students talking about their specific search topics and make the sessions more tailored to their research interests. But that wouldn’t have even been a possibility if I hadn’t learned from last year and proactively reached out this year.

Build community

During this first year, one of the main things I knew was how much I didn’t know. I had tons of questions (and still do), and more things to learn seemed to come up every week. Luckily, librarians are generally helpful people, and I’ve gotten very lucky with how many people around me have been willing to help me out. My colleagues at my library, Peabody, have been incredible, always willing to answer questions and take the time to walk me through different processes and procedures. Additionally, there were actually six new librarians (including me) who started at Vanderbilt last summer, and we all bonded pretty quickly. Being able to check in with them, ask each other questions, and serve as sounding boards has been a huge help. We also started a journal club that’s expanded to include other newer librarians, and having that built-in community is great.

I’ve also been able to make and strengthen connections with librarians outside of Vanderbilt. One of my professors from library school is now friend and mentor – in addition to our frequent Zooms, we’re also co-authoring a textbook chapter. The education librarian from UNC-Chapel Hill, where I did my MSLS, has also become a friend and colleague. We support a lot of similar degree programs, so we chat around once a month about what trends we’re seeing with our students, what helpful resources we’ve found, what new ideas we’ve tried, and more. And, because I get so many business-related questions, I’ve also looked for business mentors who can help with questions. In addition to all the business librarians at Vanderbilt, who have been great, I’ve also connected with UNC-Chapel Hill’s business school librarian. Building all of these relationships and communities has taken time, but it’s been time so well spent. My first year would have been so much harder without my colleagues and friends, and now I have these solid connections to move forward with this year.

Learn lots!

When I first started, my library director told me that “this is a learning year.” I agreed, because of course that made sense on the surface, but at the time I didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. It took going through this first year for me to really understand what she meant. There’s so much more that I know now after a full academic cycle. Some of it is tangible – like being proactive – but a lot of it is also intangible. I know which months will likely be busy and which will be slow(er). I know how much fun it is when the students come back to campus after the quiet summer. I know that I need to work ahead on projects because every day is different, and saving something for a specific day probably means that that day will get overtaken by something else and I’ll have to scramble. I know that a big part of my job is just being present, both at my library and at my department, and getting involved with whatever’s happening. And even with everything that I’ve learned in the last year, I’m very conscious that there’s still so much I don’t know. There’s always something else to learn.

Looking ahead

Students will be back at Vanderbilt in about two weeks. I’ve already done some prep work for the upcoming semester and academic year, but I have a lot more to do before classes start. I’m looking forward to being back in the classroom and meeting with students more regularly, as well as reconnecting with colleagues who I haven’t seen as much over the summer. Vanderbilt Libraries also hosts regular professional development sessions for newer librarians during the school year, so I’m excited to see familiar faces at those sessions as well (plus, more learning!). I’m also just really interested to see how I feel about this second year compared to the first year. My hope is that I can learn just as much, while also building on what worked from last year. I’m looking forward to it!

All About My AI Literacy Course

In my first ACRLog post, Teaching AI as an Anti-AI Librarian, I shared how I was approaching the task of teaching an AI literacy course as an anti-AI librarian. For my final post, I’d like to share a follow-up (which a few people have requested—thank you!) sharing a bit of practical information about how I organized the course and reflecting briefly on my first experience solo teaching a credit course.

Getting Started

My course was LIB 1100 AI, Algorithms, and (Y)our Future, a one-credit elective about AI created by my predecessor. 17 students enrolled, and we met twice a week for 50 minutes during the second half of the semester. Because this was a one-credit elective, I knew I couldn’t treat it like a survey course; there just wasn’t time. This course also attracted students from across the university: future designers, teachers, accountants, journalists, lawyers, and more. I wanted the course to be meaningful to everyone, regardless of their disciplinary background or preexisting level of knowledge about AI. For these reasons, I decided to focus on building skills over mastering content. 

Before we could begin skill-building, however, I spent the first couple weeks of the course ensuring all students had a common, basic understanding of how AI works, which included in-depth discussions of hallucinations and algorithmic bias. Part of me worried that students might find this phase of the course too elementary. While a few certainly did, I was surprised by the feedback I received.1 Several students—frequent ChatGPT users—told me they had no idea generative AI tools could produce incorrect or biased information. Others shared that they did not know the term AI included anything other than chatbots; for example, they were shocked to learn how AI technology is involved in facial recognition, dynamic pricing, and resume screening. Most did not know that generative AI works by predicting what is most likely to come next. In general, I found that my students either a) thought they knew more about AI than they did, or b) felt completely lost in AI information overload, unsure how to tell fact from fiction.  

As an information literacy librarian, this is where I feel I can make the biggest impact. I want to equip my students with critical thinking, research, and communication skills that will help them thoughtfully and ethically navigate a world being radically reshaped by AI. When they finish my course, I want them to feel empowered to make informed decisions about their personal AI use, investigate AI issues that matter to them, and engage in productive civic dialogue about AI. I believe these skills are more essential to our individual and collective humanity than technology-specific skills like prompt engineering or computer programming. On a practical level, they’re also more evergreen. As AI models evolve faster and faster, technical knowledge about how to engineer prompts or which tool to use quickly becomes outdated. On the other hand, critical thinking skills retain their value as long as we live.

The AI Question

On the first day of class, I laid out these five learning objectives to help set student expectations:

After taking this class, I will be able to . . .

  • Explain the fundamentals of how AI works.
  • Evaluate the potential risks and benefits of using AI in different situations.
  • Understand and analyze multiple perspectives on AI issues.
  • Discuss AI issues with others.
  • Independently explore AI issues of interest to me.

You may notice that none of these objectives necessarily involve using AI. I was upfront with students about the fact that I would not ask them to use AI in our classroom. There are already several UNI courses that teach students how to use different AI tools; instead, our class would center around readings and small-group discussions. I expected a few students would drop after hearing this, but none did. 

I decided to run a no-AI AI class for a couple of reasons. First, as I’ve already discussed, I truly believe I can best serve my students in an AI-dominated world by helping them develop habits of compassionate communication, curiosity, and critical thinking, particularly when it comes to information and technology issues, and these skills are best developed without relying, in full or in part, on generative AI. Second, I have major ethical concerns with the use of AI in the library classroom, particularly given our field’s values-driven commitments to patron privacy; intellectual freedom; copyright; delivering information with integrity; and opposing racial, gender, and economic inequality. These values are fundamentally incompatible with the design of consumer-focused generative AI tools. Our field has not always acted in line with these values, but I don’t believe generative AI is the solution. I believe it further entrenches inequality—including information inequality. I cannot welcome it in my library classroom. 

The Nitty-Gritty

So . . . if students weren’t using AI, what did they actually do during our class meetings?  

Since I chose to teach LIB 1100 in-person, I wanted to maximize one of the most important benefits of in-person instruction: the opportunity to have face-to-face discussions. Each week, I assigned a couple of short news articles or videos on AI issues I thought would be relevant to all students, regardless of discipline (e.g. AI in college admissions, Flock cameras, data centers in our state). I chose readings that a) presented multiple points of view on the topic and b) explored both the potential risks and benefits of using AI. When we gathered for class, we discussed the week’s readings in small groups. Throughout the course, we also practiced asking questions about AI, using basic search strategies to find more information, and fact-checking the answers we found. For our last class, students located a news article on an AI topic of their choice and shared their learnings with their peers in a five-minute lightning talk.

Our in-class discussions were highly structured. I hoped this approach would focus student conversation and help the idea of “discussion” feel more approachable for nervous students; generally speaking, I believe this theory was borne out in student feedback. Here are a few methods I used to structure our discussions:

  • I chose the discussion groups. I tried to place a mix of “strong” and “weak” discussers in each group while still changing the groups every day, so students had the opportunity to hear from all their classmates.
  • I used preset discussion formats. My favorites are conver-stations, philosophical chairs, and jigsaw, but I also used think-pair-share and snowball. 
  • Discussions consisted of multiple rounds, which were no more than 10 minutes each. Each round had a distinct purpose and built on the previous round.
    • For example: The purpose of Round 1 might be “Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page about the facts of this article.” Students define key terms and organize a timeline of events. Round 2 might be “Let’s discuss the risks and benefits of using AI in this way.” Students analyze the different perspectives presented in the article, consider what they would do, and share how the issue could apply to their own lives. Round 3 might be “What should we do in the future?” Students discuss how lawmakers, developers, and leaders in their discipline could respond to the issue. 
  • I provided private, constructive feedback on students’ discussion participation at the midpoint of the course, encouraging good habits and suggesting ways to improve.
  • Finally, I eased students into the practice of discussion by starting the course with short, low-stakes discussion activities. For example, our first discussion was a think-pair-share in which students brainstormed ideas for our classroom agreement. By the time we began discussing readings in week 2, students were already somewhat familiar with the experience of small-group conversation.  

I initially worried students would find the frequent small-group discussions boring. I didn’t use any interactive tools like Mentimeter, Padlet, or Kahoot! (though I’d like to try some this fall). We didn’t play with AI hands-on, for reasons already discussed. We simply sat down in small groups and had highly structured, intentional conversations about AI for two hours a week. When I began receiving student feedback, I was surprised. Students consistently expressed that they enjoyed and looked forward to our in-class discussions; they shared that the structured discussion style helped them learn, they loved getting to hear a variety of opinions from their classmates, and they appreciated the opportunities to direct their own learning.  

When I discussed my student feedback with a colleague, she pointed out that many of my students belonged to lecture-heavy disciplines or were at an early, lecture-heavy phase in their college education. This might have been one of their first chances to take a small course in which they could get to know their classmates, share their perspective, and direct their own learning. As I’ve reflected further on LIB 1100, I’ve also begun to wonder if my slower, discussion-focused approach might have resonated with students due to the particular topic of this course. 

A Few Final Reflections

AI often feels like something that’s happening to us. You’re told to use AI in your classroom. Suddenly, Flock cameras pop up along your route to work. Every day, we’re buried deeper under an avalanche of stories about job loss, new cybersecurity threats, and environmental devastation. It can feel like everything is spiraling out of control. 

But whatever helplessness we might feel about AI, I think our students often feel it more intensely. They are less grounded in the memory of what life was like before 2022; they will graduate into a world already reshaped by AI. Many of them feel there is something wrong with what’s happening, but they also understand there’s no going back. This is the only world they’ll ever know. 

In this context, it’s important to carve out space to slow down—especially in the classroom. Students are under immense pressure to “keep up” and “not fall behind,” but in order for them to develop into thoughtful, creative, and compassionate graduates, they need time to breathe. In spite of—or because of—how fast-moving and overwhelming the issue of AI can be, it’s critical that we support students in slowing down, reflecting with intention, developing and sharing their perspectives, and learning from others with grace. Student autonomy in learning matters, especially with an issue like AI, where they may often feel like their autonomy has been stripped away. I believe my students resonated deeply with these aspects of LIB 1100, and I hope I can continue to foster a reflective, generous, and impactful learning environment for my students this fall. 

Some Further Reading

If you’re interested in teaching about AI, I hope this post has been useful or thought-provoking in some way. I’m sharing how I approached LIB 1100 because I’ve been asked about this topic quite a bit over the last year, but this is only one teaching method out of many. I’m always learning from other teachers and librarians. To conclude this post, I’d like to share just a few perspectives that have informed my work in the hopes they may be helpful to others as well: 

Allison, Leslie, and Tiffany DeRewal. “Where Knowledge Begins? Generative Search, Information Literacy, and the Problem of Friction.” Critical AI 2, no. 2 (2024). https://doi.org/10.1215/2834703X-11556038.

Camarillo, Lauren A. “Squinting Through the Dawn of AI: Embedding Algorithmic Literacy Principles in Library Instruction.” In Democratizing Knowledge + Access + Opportunities: The Proceedings of the ACRL 2025 Conference, edited by Dawn Mueller. Association of College and Research Libraries, 2025. https://www.ala.org/sites/default/files/2025-03/SquintingThroughtheDawnofAI.pdf.

Ellis, Elizabeth and Amanda Kaufman. “Diving Beneath the Surface: Incorporating Critical AI Literacy in Library Instruction.” Presentation, LOEX Conference, Norfolk, VA, May 8, 2026. https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1R9e1S_x1Mc-0Xl3rz6dcY8nZuPLgvDMcwQDnAmERnvc. 

Illingworth, Sam. “What Is Critical AI Literacy?” Slow AI, February 13, 2026. https://theslowai.substack.com/p/what-is-critical-ai-literacy.

TILT Higher Ed. https://www.tilthighered.com/.

Slater, Kay. “Against AI: Critical Refusal in the Library.” Library Trends 73, no. 4 (2025): 588–608. https://doi.org/10.1353/lib.2025.a968497. 

Notes

  1. When I refer to “student feedback” throughout this post, I’m aggregating feedback received through in-class minute papers; graded learning reflections; three anonymous Google Forms surveys I administered throughout the course; my final, university-administered student evaluations; and students speaking directly with me. ↩︎

Developing a Teaching Style… In Style!

A commonality among this year’s first-year academic librarian bloggers was the daunting task of standing in front of a class for the first time. We were curious to discuss the similarities and differences that exist between becoming a teacher for the first time in a post-secondary setting and how we developed our style over our first year as librarians.

Eleanor: Collaboration is key

I never knew what to say when asked to describe my teaching style in a job interview. When I taught one-shots during my MLIS, I simply hodge-podged together various activities I’d enjoyed as an undergraduate. Regardless of whether it was effective or ineffective, what I was doing didn’t have the level of intentionality required to be called a “style.” What is a teaching style? I wondered. How will I know if I have one? 

But over the last year, I’ve gained experience navigating the classroom and developed confidence in myself as an instructor. Collaboration and conversation with other faculty have been key to my development as a teacher, which is why I think this is a valuable conversation for the FYALs to have together. Through co-teaching experiences and working through teaching challenges together with my colleagues, I was exposed to a wide variety of ideas about teaching. I began to understand what makes my approach to teaching similar to or different from theirs and develop the language to articulate why a lesson felt right (or didn’t!).   

For example, I was introduced to TILT Higher Ed (Transparency in Learning and Teaching) through the new faculty colloquium at UNI, and I experienced it in action during my first semester as a co-teacher. TILT is a teaching framework that emphasizes radical transparency in teaching methods, classroom expectations, course design, and more. This helps level the playing field between all students, which is especially important in the library classroom. As many public and school libraries are forced to close or reduce hours due to drastic budget cuts, our students enter college less familiar than ever with libraries and research strategies.  

But ultimately, the most important thing about my teaching style isn’t any specific framework, technique, or activity. It’s the fact that now, I’ve developed intentionality in my approach to teaching. That means I can actively evaluate, critique, and grow my own teaching. My teaching style will not be static over the course of my career. It must evolve in tandem with my students, my course material, my institution, and the wider cultural context in which I teach. 

Lisa: Take-away materials & take-away friends  

When first jumping into the role of an academic librarian, it was overwhelming just to think about even getting through that one, two, maybe three hours that I had in front of a class. Especially as someone who used to have a fear of public speaking and still has remnants of that anxiety in different caveats of daily life, teaching alone as a fresh graduate seemed like a tall ask. Now that almost three semesters’ worth of teaching have passed, I feel that I have really relaxed into the role thanks to different pockets of fun and confidence that I’ve identified to lean into when teaching.  

Something I try to think about when I am teaching are the tangible take-away points for students so that they can leave the session with a better sense of their research topic, the library, and other new intersecting thoughts. This might also be due to the fact that I support subject areas in STEM with students who are looking to finish school with professional careers rather than learn about the ins and outs of the research lifecycle. Relevant examples, recent cases, real-life scenarios, and pain points from previous students are ways I try to incorporate discipline-specific needs into traditional information literacy sessions. 

At the undergraduate level, especially in senior courses, when students are attending classes for the sole purpose of graduating, there are often instances when my energy is not being reciprocated. To alleviate this tension, something I started doing at the beginning of each session was to bring a bit of myself. Whether it be through a photo or an analogy comparing information literacy to Korean food, incorporating myself into the session helped me to become more familiar in a new environment while allowing students to open up to me and each other as well. Another strategy that I love are icebreakers. I love doing quick ones where students must hold up a number to identify themselves with a meme or submit answers to an interactive website (wooclap, kahoot, etc.).  

An aspect that I took for granted in university was the social aspect of learning, whether it was participation in class, group work, presentations, or conversations. To utilize this unique aspect to the maximum, I have fun adding in activities that incorporate a social aspect in all of my sessions, whether they are one-shots, recurring workshops, or consultations. In my mind, if students didn’t get anything from the actual session, they can at least emerge out of it with having interacted with one new classmate, shared their research topic with a friend, found a research partner, or reinforced their classroom community further. One of my favourite parts of my role in the library is witnessing the growth of students throughout the year, and teaching is so exciting because it really is the first step in developing that relationship.  

M: Gaining confidence in the classroom 

When I first started library school, I didn’t envision myself teaching much. However, as I made my way through classes, I started to realize that if I wanted to be an academic librarian who primarily works with students, there was basically no way to avoid teaching. Like Lisa, I haven’t always felt the most comfortable with public speaking, although I’ve worked hard to be better at it and feel more confident. I decided that I would have to find a way to figure out how to be, at minimum, an average teacher if I wanted to continue on the academic librarian path that I’d chosen. There are three things that have helped me work on being a more confident and effective teacher: 

First, in library school, I was able to take a course on Library Instruction. That’s the first place where I was asked to think about my teaching style and where I had to write a teaching statement. I haven’t looked at that statement since I started in my current position, but I plan to go back to it this summer and will be interested to see what’s changed and what’s stayed the same. Library Instruction helped me think about teaching as more than just lecturing students – students can also learn through back and forth dialogue, think-pair-shares, and other interactive methods. Since I only teach graduate students, I’m still working on how I can most effectively bring those forms of instruction into my teaching, but I know I’ll figure it out. Big thanks to my professor for this class, Dr. Rawson, for her own incredible teaching. 

Second, I’ve had the opportunity both in library school and in my current job to observe instruction sessions led by other librarians. Those experiences have been invaluable in helping me figure out what works or doesn’t work in front of a class, what I currently do well, and what I can improve on. Sitting in on those sessions, especially when I then have time to talk to the librarians afterwards and ask them questions, has been a fantastic way to learn. I would encourage anyone to find opportunities to do this – if it’s not built in to the structure of your library school program or current position, ask the librarians at your school or your colleagues at your job if you can sit in on some of their sessions informally. 

Last but not least, practice, practice, practice. It sounds obvious, but it really makes a difference. I was so lucky that my supervisor at my Graduate Assistant job, Kate, was so willing for me to co-teach with her and also gave me opportunities to teach on my own. Getting that practice over and over while I was still a student went a long way to helping me feel more confident. I still feel the most nervous when I teach a session for the first time after a long break, but when this happens, I think back to the advice that Dr. Rawson gave our class – you can still be a great teacher even if you have a lot of nerves. I’ve also been glad to learn this year that once I’m back in the swing of teaching, I still have butterflies before an instructional, but my nerves aren’t nearly as bad. I’m trying to gear up now for what will probably be an instruction-heavy fall and will be interested to see how that impacts how I feel about teaching for the rest of the year. 

So, what’s my teaching style? I’m still working on it. I love to include interactive components in my teaching whenever I can, but I feel that there’s still a place for sharing information with students in a more traditional format. I’m trying to figure out what icebreakers work well for graduate students and if I can ask them to do activities or not. And I’m working on building up the confidence to try new things in the classroom and to be okay if they don’t work out. I’m not sure if those things constitute a teaching style or not, but I hope they do – or that they will. 

Conclusion

Together with all of our combined experiences, it is evident that there are so many different ways to approach teaching – and always new ways to learn and grow.

How to… Fre+nglish 

Although I took one psycho-linguistics course in undergrad (very interesting, by the way), I never thought I would be able to apply the theories and examples I learned in that class to real-life. As I navigated my first-year of academic librarianship in a bilingual French-English institution, I slowly began to accumulate routines and activities that worked for me the most. With French being my third language, I wanted to take this post to share strategies and tips that helped me in my first year to improve my French more than it ever has.  

Identifying Needs 

Something that I found to be helpful is to organize my own personal needs in recognizing what skills I lacked the most. For me, they were conversational and oral skills, especially during bilingual meetings or when listening to presentations. Identifying a set of words that were commonly used within everyday work was something I quickly recognized that helped immensely in these everyday situations. In addition, really getting myself out there in terms of French training, lectures, workshops, events, conferences, symposiums and volunteering for co-teaching and shadowing opportunities were other ways to quickly be exposed to an immersed setting.  

Confidence  

Frenglish is definitely real. I use Konglish (Korean+English) quite often with my family, but I always thought that my French had to be perfect before I opened my mouth, especially in professional settings. If there is something I learned this year, it really is that trying is often enough! I often think about my parents when I think I speak broken French. When they first immigrated to Canada, they must have also felt this fear and wall in communication, accents, and judgement. Most people are simply just grateful that I am trying to speak and communicate, and often to help them! My favourite memory from a teaching session is a student coming up to me after and thanking me for learning French. These little fragments of memory and experiences really motivate me in wanting to learn and refine my skills further.  

Building a Network  

It is honestly 110% due to my amazing co-workers and supportive network that I continued to work hard on my French this year. From external French courses, to French courses through the university, conversation circles both within the university and at the public library, bi-weekly chats with co-workers, weekly lessons with a French tutor, group lessons, and much more were some ways I received help from my network. Making friends is definitely not something that comes natural to me, but when sharing the same struggles such as learning a new language together, it does become easier. Holding each other accountable and continuing to expand my network without any language barriers has been a challenging, yet rewarding process of this language acquiring journey.  

Lisa Shin at the Rendez-Vous Québec Cinéma film festival at the cinémathèque québécoise.

Mélange into your Hobbies  

As mentioned in a previous blog post here, one of my favourite ways to spend leisure time is to go out to cinemas and watch movies. Building a routine into incorporating French into my hobbies has been ideal as I find it to be a low-stress, yet beneficial use of my time (we love efficiency!). Things like the French cinema club, French film festivals, Québécois film festivals, purposely watching movies without subtitles, and trying to finish a French director’s filmography, are some fun ways I expanded learning into my time off. The different accents, countries, and cultures are only a snapshot, but the films provide stories and insight into atmospheres and environments that I found to be critical in understanding the language in a colonial, communal, historical, and different socioeconomical contexts.  

Overall, I am quite pleased at how much my French has struggled and improved this past year. Having the confidence to teach in French was something unimaginable last summer but now I am happy to have taught 4 sessions in my third language. Of course, the learning never really stops, especially in librarianship, but I am looking forward to more that I will learn with this new lens of a third language.  

Developing an Evidence Synthesis Training Program

Last May, when I was preparing for my in-person interview for my current position, I was lucky to have the opportunity to talk with librarians at my graduate institution about questions I might be asked and topics that might come up during my interview. One of the main themes that came up in those preparation conversations was evidence synthesis, sometimes also known as knowledge synthesis.

If, like me a year ago, you’ve never heard that term before, it refers to systematically searching existing literature to find evidence and draw conclusions to answer a specific question. There are several types of evidence synthesis – some of the most common are systematic reviews, meta-analyses, and scoping reviews. This type of research started in the medical fields and has branched out from there into other areas, like education.

The librarians I talked to were right, and evidence synthesis was mentioned in my interview. I had done my homework and was able to speak to it enough, but one thing that had been clear from the research I did is that there would be a lot more for me to learn about this topic.

Teaching Evidence Synthesis (To My Fellow Librarians)

Fast forward to January 2026, and my library director sat down with me to talk about evidence synthesis work. One librarian on our team had been doing this work for several years and is very well-versed in it, but the rest of us were much newer to it and had varying degrees of knowledge. My library director explained that she wanted to us to be able to tell our departments that we could help with evidence synthesis projects starting in the Fall 2026 semester. That meant that we had about six or seven months to learn enough to feel comfortable guiding our students and faculty through the process. My director asked me to take on the project of developing a training program to teach all of us about evidence synthesis.

At that point, I had two main sources of knowledge about evidence synthesis: I had taken the University of Minnesota Libraries’ Evidence Synthesis Institute, which had been very helpful but was also, honestly, overwhelming; and I had joined a review project with some other librarians at Vanderbilt. While the knowledge from those things helped, I knew I was only scratching the surface of this topic – so essentially, I needed to come up with a way to teach my fellow librarians, along with myself, how to do evidence synthesis.

Six months later, I think our training program has been an overall success, although the main thing I’ve learned might be that there will always be more to learn about evidence synthesis. I don’t think our training program will ever be truly over – it may just be less intense in the coming months. But as we start to wrap up the first half of this year and look towards the fall semester, here are a few key takeaways that I think helped to make the training program work.

Get Feedback and Plan Ahead

Before I did anything else, I sent around an anonymous survey to the librarians at my library to gauge how much they already knew about evidence synthesis and how comfortable they thought they would be if a student walked into their office at that moment and asked for help with a systematic review. Unsurprisingly, our answers were varied, but a common theme that emerged was that while most of us had some knowledge of evidence synthesis, we were less confident about being able to put that knowledge into practice.

As a result, I set up our training program to be partially learning and information intake, partially exchanges with other librarians (more on that a few sections down), and partially hands-on work. In the external trainings and conversations about evidence synthesis that I’ve attended since January, being unsure of how to put what you’ve learned into practice has also been a common theme for librarians. If I hadn’t gotten this feedback at the beginning and planned out all of our biweekly meetings to make sure we had practice time in July, I might not have thought to include time for actual hands-on, practice learning.

Document and Save Everything

Evidence synthesis and systematic reviews are complicated forms of research. I knew that it was very possible our group of librarians could have a conversation about something, and then a year later, I might remember that conversation and want to go back and look at exactly what we discussed. As a result, from the very beginning of the training program, I made sure to create agendas and schedules in advance, record our meetings and discussions (with my colleagues’ knowledge and consent), and take meticulous notes during each training program interaction. All of those things are saved in an organized folder that’s shared with our team, and after every meeting, I re-share the folder with team members to ensure they have access to everything they might need.

Ask for Support When Needed

From the beginning, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to teach my colleagues all of this information on my own. As a result, I leaned on the experience of people around me to help when I needed to. I asked the librarian on our team who has the most experience with systematic reviews to lead a few of our sessions. He talked us through how to use Covidence and how to design a search string, which are both invaluable parts of evidence synthesis. I also asked the librarians at Vanderbilt’s Biomedical Library, several of whom have been doing evidence synthesis for 5 or 10 years, to do a Q&A session with us about their experiences and advice. That Q&A was also one of the most helpful things we did, and I’m so grateful to the Biomedical Library team for meeting with us. Finally, I also looked for external opportunities that we could use to enhance our training. In mid-June, most of us participated in the online Library Evidence Synthesis Services Symposium (LESSS), and gained a lot of valuable knowledge from those sessions.

I also want to add that doing this type of training program wouldn’t have been possible without the direction that I’ve received from my library director and the support I have from my colleagues. If my fellow librarians weren’t willing to show up, be dedicated, and learn a lot, our training program wouldn’t have made it past the first few weeks.

In July, I’ll re-survey my colleagues and figure out how we’re all currently feeling about evidence synthesis, what we think we can put into place for the fall, and where we need to continue learning. This will definitely be an ongoing learning situation – a “yes, and” training program instead of a checked box saying that our learning has been completed. But even though I haven’t officially asked yet, I feel good about saying that we all know a lot more than we did when the training program started at the beginning of this year. I look forward to what the next steps will be in all of us continuing to learn and grow with evidence synthesis.