I was quite moved by the examples in this module, particularly the readings on the Human Library project and the stories shared by librarians Kylie and Fliss about the programs developed for their local communities. A consistent through line across these stories is that programming was created in direct response to community need. To identify such needs, one has to be empathetic, curious, and observant. To meet these needs, creativity and collaboration with community partners is key. It was impressive how many different groups the library leveraged to make the Sensitive Santa program a free, fun and special experience for autistic children and their families.
The image that comes to mind when I think of this kind of creative collaboration is a potluck; everyone brings their own unique “dish” to the gathering to share. There are surprises, and communication is necessary to ensure there are not 6 desserts and the lone casserole. The result of this effort is a nourishing smorgasbord for all involved. Unexpected and creative pairings ensue! Complementary talents and skills can be joined to usher a new service into being.
Potluck, Francesca Melis (n.d.). via https://francesca-melis.com/
The library staff behind these efforts are observant of those around them and reflective of their own lived experiences, empathetic to other individuals and families who may be experiencing challenges they too, have navigated. Utilizing these personal and observed experiences and then calling on aligned organizations to assist made these services a reality. One of the examples I thought was particularly effective at showing how inclusive resources can benefit everyone was the visual signage designed to help guide autistic children, but that was equally helpful assisting English language learners. It’s heartening to see examples of inclusivity cultivated through simple, creative, and effective means.
The stories shared here remind me that what comes first before any moves are made is simply being observant; noticing who is absent, who needs help, and getting curious as to why. Magical things happen when humans bring forth their diverse skills, wisdom, and connections to bring people into the fold.
It’s been heartening, especially in this moment of overwhelmingly grim civic turmoil, to explore the new model library examples. The Anythink Nature Libraryplans areinspirational and give me hope that this type of model could be adapted for other locations. It has piqued my curiosity about the scope of programs that have successfully incorporated nature education and experiences as an extension of library service. It would be thrilling to see nature based experiential learning (and in tandem the restoration of wild spaces) cultivated into a standard facet of the library ecosystem, rather than as an exceptional case, or “special” library.
People are not separate from nature; we do not exist in a lateral universe. We are intricately connected, regardless of whether such connections are visible or understood. Education that helps make those connections transparent but in a fun and delightful way is crucial to their sustainability. Libraries are utilizing their unique cultural capacities to connect people to nature based experiences. Regarding implementation, coordinating with local groups like farms and local conservation organizations seems to be a winning strategyhelping to strengthen both the library and coordinating group gain visibility within a community.
If public spaces like the library are core sites of social infrastructure, as Kleinenberg argues, then we should be taking advantage of every opportunity to utilize and strengthen them as places of connection, to nature and to one another. This is already happening in branches nationwide via such projects as vegetable beds, native pollinator gardens, and other creative approaches that utilize what little (or vast) space is available.
People are so hungry for a connection to nature but may need some guidance. The opportunity to learn about “stars, water, wildlife and seasonal changes” will help build a culture of environmental stewardship as the press article stated, but also build a potentially happier and more resilient populace. Access to nature has been shown to be overwhelmingly beneficial in myriad social, emotional, and cognitive capacities for people of every age..
One of my favorite aspects of the Nature Link Library is that one of its objectives is to restore the prairie to a pre-settled state. I think this is an initiative that is quite special in that it has the potential to be such as source of civic pride. If people have the opportunity to learn what is special ecologically about their plot of land and be a part of cultivating it- that’s powerful.
How can we re-imagine our local libraries to be places of education and inspiration that are part of and extend to the natural sphere? We have to stop thinking of them as bifurcated spaces. Efforts can and should be made to incorporate exposure to nature in daily life for the health of our populations and the long term longevity of wild places.
Nature based learning is so incredibly vital for developing environmental stewardship among the general population, and also for helping people understand (on a physical, visceral level) that they are not separate; that they have a right to enjoy its abundance and also a responsibility to protect it. In this moment of climate collapse, and national mental health crisis, its imperative that libraries take advantage of these opportunities and partnerships.
Generative AI encompasses a range of legitimately incredible tools with impressive utility. It can be intuitive and fun; I’ve personally used ChatGPT for practical, frivolous, and tedious matters. For these reasons its seismically overhauling what seems like every possible industry. As a society we may not be able to appreciate the full effect of these changes on the collective until time has elapsed and we look back at what’s been wrought.
meme by me. Image via imgflip.com
Generally speaking, AI is a polarizing topic amongst the public, eliciting strong feelings. Fear and panic is often based on assumptions of what AI is, how it works, and what it is capable of. Since such models are evolving in real time, public understanding of what it can and can’t do may be outdated by the time the public gets up to speed. Most people have a general awareness of generative AI; there has been extensive, breathless media coverage over the past few years, both positive and critical. What I don’t think is being discussed with appropriate urgency is the repercussions of this technology. My delight using ChatGPT soured when I learned about its environmental costs.
meme by me. Image via imgflip.com
Who bears these costs once these modalities are embedded in our social, informational, and educational architecture? Are those costs too dear? Who gets to decide? How can the public know what they’re engaging with when the private industry promoting it (in gauzy, heartwarming Superbowl ads no less) obscure facts around the energy requirements necessary to keep it going. Demands which will only increase as its adopted in greater numbers and assimilated into workflows and daily life.
Fister and Head discuss how ChatGPT is reshaping information structures, drawing a parallel to Wikipedia which also profoundly influenced the information infrastructure of education and society at large. Like ChatGPT today, it prompted hand-wringing within the educational establishment over its potential to facilitate plagiarism. The authors come to the conclusion ChatGPT should not be banned from the classroom, which I agree with in the context of it purely as a tool.
To liken it to Wikipedia misses the mark though; Generative AI is fundamentally different from the preceding waves of tech breakthroughs in its capacity for environmental degradation and propensity for tailoring results based on “customer satisfaction rather than facts”. Despite the authors’ acknowledgement of these realities, their article concludes that “we should consider how we can play a greater role in deciding what happens to our knowledge environments rather than leaving it up to a handful of big tech companies.”
Certainly. Yet if its the case society must accept this technology as part of the greater information ecosystem, must we also accept it on the terms private industry is offering? Terms indicating destruction, little oversight, and potential for great abuse through proliferation of dis-information?
Why is the environmental factor relevant to its use in LIS? As a metadiscipline, LIS is fundamentally bound by the interconnected nature of knowledge and its transmission. I would argue that its a moral imperative for information professionals to advocate for responsible stewardship of such tools, for the sake of our planet and those who live here (everyone). The tools we use demand scrutiny not just in how they function but the cost we pay to use them.
This week’s reading had me nodding vigorously in agreement with the arguments, reflections, and reports made throughout. The older readings are still relevant (for better or worse), even if the particulars of the technology being referred to has changed. 21st Century Digital Divide had me reflecting on my own experience of being on both sides of the “digital divide”.
Tech related knowledge seemingly happened by osmosis for my peers. I was painfully aware that youth was not synonymous with innate technological know-how. The common advice for older generations bewildered by new technology was, (often still is) to “ask a young person”. I was unfortunately not that person, for myself or anyone else. Equally frustrating were suggestions to “go to YouTube” to figure out whatever issue needed to be solved. That’s solid advice if you have an innate interest in your subject matter -the joy of exploration! I did not. Sifting through search results without guidance felt more akin to punishment. While YouTube is an amazing resource for many things, it is frustrating to traverse when you don’t know what you don’t know- only that you are lost. While I had access to the technology itself, there was little in the way of education or guidance to apply it. Having access to technology is of little use if you don’t know how to use it.
Learning only the very minimal technical literacy required to get by in school came at a cost which came due later. Many of the things that people learned to do through using social channels or other programs translated to other useful ways of navigating education, the workplace, the world. As a teen I didn’t want to be outed as a luddite, so I didn’t ask for help. Thankfully, I have since caught up, but this experience stayed with me. I have so much empathy for anyone who doesn’t know how to even ask the right questions for help.
Technical literacy is vital to functioning in the world today and it pains me that the people who could most benefit from it might not know its available. It takes courage to ask questions, and libraries can be a safe space to do so. Dedicated tech literacy drop in times are a good way to offer resources to people of all ages who need guidance. Libraries have risen to this challenge: according to a 2023 technology survey by the Public Library Association 95.3% of US libraries offer some kind of digital literacy training. This is heartening.
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Building a culture of literacy is crucial to people’s well being; it cultivates agency, and builds ones capacity to collaborate within community. It is integral to the fabric of our democracy (Williams & Muller, 2021). Access to literacy is only one half of the equation; action must be taken to ensure its barriers can be surmounted.
For this assignment, I wanted to further explore the concept of the library as third place. The term “third place” was originally defined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg in his 1989 book The Great Good Place. Oldenburg defined third places as social gathering spots situated between work and home, where individuals from various backgrounds engage in conversation and exchange ideas in a comfortable setting at little to no cost. He delineates these spaces as centers of community and civic life, in that they provide eight core characteristics: neutral ground, leveling (of class and social strata), conversation as the primary activity, accessibility, the presence of regulars, a low profile, a playful mood, and finally- a home away from home. Libraries that meet this criteria can flourish into true community hubs, but only do so with collaboration between staff receptive to the needs of their respective communities.
Understanding who that community is, and what their information needs are will dictate what changes need to be made. A tall order when the goal of the library is to serve all who walk through its doors. A common thread I notice in our class reading, and my own exploration of the topic, is that initiatives take root at the local level. What such initiatives look like is mutable and subject to change, as “local” looks different depending where you are. The capacity for flexibility and relevant programming is key. Librarians are modifying and expanding services to support social connection that is accessible and flexible. Rather than engage in a monolithic approach to developing services, information professionals are listening to the direct feedback of the people that inhabit these spaces. In O’Brien’s (2019) article highlighting how the San Francisco Public Library (SFPL) is rising to these challenges, SFPL communication manager Mindy Linetzky states: “Branch librarians work with community members, local nonprofits and other programs, and are a valuable resource for residents to connect via informal conversations. Each branch knows their neighborhood, and they know what their community is interested in.” Yet library staff need not do all of this program building alone. In fact, it only strengthens the broader community, when outside experts and local organizations contribute their acumen to library programming (Stephens, 2019).
Considering the third places I inhabit in my own life, one reason I appreciate them is because they have character-they exhibit playfulness. Through the art and visual culture displayed, these spaces reflect the people who frequent them, and who have passed through before. Recently I visited San Francisco’s Anza branch library for the first time. Mulling over my work, I looked up; above me was a beautiful frieze of stylized flowers covering the beams of the building ceiling. Curious, I looked up the history of the building, and discovered this was a Works Progress Era commissioned artwork. During the height of the great depression, the WPA was “instrumental in subsidizing work for hundreds, if not thousands of unemployed artists” (Lemon, n.d). It made me contemplate how libraries not only offer space for creation but also embody creativity and civic pride through their very design. In this way, the building itself—with its intricate adornments—serves as a connection to the past and as a platform for contemporary creative expression. As libraries evolve into third spaces, they can foster environments where art is viewed, made and shared, with maker spaces encouraging diverse forms of creative work (Bowler, 2014).
Anza Library ceiling, San Francisco. my own photo
Libraries can be places of architectural beauty, yet they need not be historic or grand to inspire. The most beautiful library is one that is rooted in its community—a place where individuals can grow and thrive together. I believe every library has the potential to cultivate a vibrant culture by leveraging its existing strengths, whether that be available space, the skills of its dedicated staff, or community connections. In my own future practice in the LIS field, I will keep in mind the principles that make a third space vibrant and accessible. Transforming a library into a true third space will require thoughtful reflection, and most importantly, a willingness to engage in creative iteration.
References
Bowler, L. (2014). Creativity through “Maker” Experiences and Design Thinking in the Education of Librarians. Knowledge Quest, 42(5), 58–61.
Oldenburg, R. (1989). The great good place : cafés, coffee shops, community centers, beauty parlors, general stores, bars, hangouts, and how they get you through the day (1st ed.). Paragon House.
Stephens, M. T. (2019). Wholehearted librarianship : finding hope, inspiration, and balance. ALA Editions.
Hi there! My name is Rosa, and I’m a second semester MLIS student. I have a fine arts background and wide ranging interests- I love learning about nature, music, art and history. I’m generally curious about most things! Drop me in a grey box, I will find something of interest. That being said- making things beautiful and functional in my day to day life is what brings me the most joy. I have so much to learn about this field and the different pathways available for professional pursuit. I’d like to bring the knowledge I gain in this program into community, and hope to incorporate art in some way. In what specific capacity remains to be seen, but I look forward to exploring here!
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