There are parts of my future as a school librarian about which I am totally stoked. I think the fun of working with students and doing something about which I'm passionate will definitely make up for the utter exhaustion that seems to come with the job. My underlying concern is that I'm not going to be able to manage the library + promote literacy + build relationships with students + collaborate with teachers + fix school tech issues + promote the heck out of the library with faculty/administrators/parents, etc. all while keeping my sanity. It's a bit exhausting just writing that out! I think "circus leaders" and "deadly ninja assassins" were the terms Dr. Lankes used to describe the sort of people needed as school librarians today, and (for those of us in IST 511) we were lucky enough to meet two such individuals this week in class... but more on that in a sec.
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| Which red wire?! |
I took this photo during a recent hike with my dog on South Campus. It reminded me of that incredibly trope-y TV plot device where the main character's desperately trying to defuse a bomb by cutting a particular wire, or several wires in a particular sequence, but isn't sure WHICH, and the bomb is (presumably) set to detonate should s/he be foolish enough to cut the wrong one. Of course, not only is time running short, our hero(ine) is getting conflicting messages about what to do (i.e. s/he's told to cut the red wire, but there are two of them; or to cut the green wire, and NOT the red wire but s/he is colorblind, etc.).
I think this is the sort of scenario I was subconsciously visualizing when I got anxious about being a school media specialist. Will I mis-prioritize and screw everything up? Will I give a teacher or student the wrong information and lose credibility? How will I know exactly what to do? HOW WILL I NOT LOSE MY MIND TRYING TO MAKE THESE DECISIONS?! Of course, the underlying assumption here is that the bomb really WILL detonate if things aren't done in precisely the right way (that's what builds the dramatic tension), or that there's only one correct way to do things, and anything less than perfect will get you and probably some other people blown to smithereens. But is this a valid metaphor to use in relation to the trials of school librarianship, or did I just watch too much TV growing up (a huge possibility)?
When I was a kid, MacGyver was my hero. I wanted to be his kid sister, his daughter, his girlfriend (30-year age difference be damned!), WHATEVER just so I could tag along on his expeditions on behalf of the Phoenix Foundation, and (by proxy) the U.S. We'd sneak into sketchy situations, get the good guys OUT, mess some bad guys UP, and get the job DONE. Of course, MacGyver was a lone operator, and never really took on an apprentice of any kind (despite the imploring letter I sent Richard Dean Anderson at the age of nine putting forth my qualifications in great detail), so I was out of luck.
Who doesn't want to hang out with this guy? Mmmm...so dreamy...
This shot is from the pilot, in which MacGyver is called to a top secret science lab where a major explosion has trapped researchers underground. He actually DOES diffuse a bomb using a paperclip in the first episode. No joke. He also uses a handful of Hershey's chocolate bars to stop a sulfuric acid leak threatening him and a helpless blonde female scientist in impractical stilettos, who has the sheer audacity to question whether MacGyver's trick will work. She becomes the first of a long line of throw-away damsel-in-distress characters unrequitedly smitten with MacGyver (who doesn't do personal relationships very well).
The thing is: the guy can do anything. He can climb his way into a Soviet secret mountaintop hideout in Central Asia to rescue a downed Air Force pilot, and assemble an ultralight aircraft out of PVC pipe, some tarp, and a lawnmower to fly them both out of there. All in about 47 minutes, no less.
Armed with his paperclip multi-tool, the ever present duct tape (did he have a hidden holster for that, or something?), and his trusty Swiss Army knife, Mac could turn the contents of your average junk drawer:
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| Photo courtesy of yours truly |
Into something like this:
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| Photo courtesy of Neatorama |
Of course, being anti-gun and a general nice guy, Mac most likely wouldn't turn said junk into a cruise missile, but you get the idea. He would use his mental prowess to rig explosions or diversions to blast his way out of something, and not to kill somebody.
Bottom line is: MacGyver didn't save the world with every fishing line + chewing gum + drain cleaner gadget he created. But his ability to take stock of a bad situation, assess the tools available to him, and construct something that would help get him out of there, saved the individual people he'd come to help and made him a go-to guy for all the problems the ______ (insert "Ruskies" or any late '80s American TV villain here) could throw at us (obviously, he was all that stood between the US and a complete Red Dawn-esque Soviet takeover). Granted, a MacGyverism was never meant to be a long-term fix, so that's probably where the metaphor I'm trying to draw between His Royal Fix-itness and school media specialists breaks down. (I also wouldn't want to imply that school administrators, teachers, or students are on par with a drug cartel, international organized crime, or the KGB). But in terms of having the know-how to enter diverse situations and fix problems with the tools he had on hand, all without resorting to violence: MacGyver sounds like an undercover school librarian. And I'd definitely consider him "deadly ninja assassin" material.
Here's a telling snippet of dialog from Season 3 episode "Kill Zone":
Military official: “...I wonder if he REALLY knew what he was getting into.”
Pete: “He knew the same things all of us knew. I didn’t hold anything back from him.”
Military official: “Why him, Pete? Why MacGyver?”
Pete: “Because he has the scientific knowledge and knows how to move fast through rough country. Aside from that, he’s the best person I know to deal with... whatever it is he’s gonna deal with out there. (Pause) And he volunteered... wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Not only does MacGyver's broad knowledge base enable him to work quickly in any situation in which he finds himself; he wants to do what he's doing, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty in the process, or try something unconventional that could possibly fail. I think the wanting-to-do-it is the part that keeps great school librarians from burning out with all of the "fix-me-now!!!" problems that inundate them on a daily basis. They are flexible enough to tackle new challenges each day using the tools at hand (which may sometimes be less than ideal, and even perhaps on the junky side), even though the solution may be slightly unorthodox. AND they're willing to try and possibly fail, but still keep trying.
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After listening to school librarians Sue Kowalski and Buffy Hamilton speak at our last class about what they do, I couldn't help but walk away excited about the future. Sue has such a fantastic passion for the kids in her school, and an I'll-try-anything attitude that I'd really like to emulate. I would love to one day be a middle school librarian of the caliber she represents. Buffy promoted embracing "muddiness" and the use of failure and change to create improvement and growth into new ways of doing things. For both women, inspiring students to take initiative and ownership over the library is a key to success, rather than a threat to their control. The idea that coming to solutions that work is a process, and that there will be failures along the way, but that you can use them to become even better, was reassuring to someone like me with little to no experience of how things are "supposed to be done."
Some of those fears about lacking library experience coming into this profession were assuaged by Dr. Lankes' come-to-Jesus speech at the end of class this week. Here's my attempt at a paraphrase for those of you not lucky enough to have been there: If you just do whatever has always been done, you're a cog in the wheel of the larger system, and cogs can be replaced. Innovation involves exploding the existing structures that don't work anymore to build new ones that do. And sometimes, a person who's NOT stuck in the rut of how things have "always been done," is best suited for instituting small, task-level innovations, that can snowball into larger-scale changes (i.e. not saving the WORLD with each idea or effort, per se, but perhaps empowering someone else who will, or setting events in motion that will result in major procedural or structural changes down the road).
So, to all my fellow MacGyver wannabes, there's a shining role for you in school librarianship. You can be the go-to gal or guy, who can make things work, and perhaps save the day. Maybe you'll be somewhat behind the scenes, and just one person in whole, big system, but you'll be what Buffy Hamilton called the "lynch pin" holding everything together, and doing vital work, that probably no one else can do.
Just don't resort to violence. Maybe strive to be a "deadly ninja MacGyver" instead of a "deadly ninja assassin." We'll leave the assassination to the FBI-embedded librarians, and instead create a slew of future "MacGyver" students who are info. literate enough to approach all situations with a can-do attitude, and the nerve to jump in and find solutions where the tools on hand might not seem too promising to anyone else.
Just THINK about that before you laugh at my tube socks and duct tape holster.
And for those Dr. Who fans out there, I found this awesome, awesome mashup of a Dr. Who meets MacGyver intro:
I also highly recommend thisYouTube Star Wars/MacGyver mashup:
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