In Search for an Opaque Past

As I search for my family’s past, I've run into many hurdles.  Genealogy is difficult work, particularly for racialized and historically marginalized people. There is an array of special identity documents – called C.I. certificates – that were issued by the Canadian Government exclusively to its Chinese residents. Files were kept of foreign-born Chinese in Vancouver, Victoria and Ottawa. These pieces of paper that were intended to control, contain, monitor and even intimidate this one community continue to be mysteriously hard to access.

Ironically, the very documents that were used to control was somehow forgotten, closed to the descendents who looked for them. About a decade or more ago, I started to research my great-grandfather and his brothers at Vancouver Public Library which has microfiche of C.I.9 records.

A Chinese Immigration Certificate no. 9 (C.I.9) was a Canadian reentry permit for Chinese immigrants, issued between 1910 and 1953. Every C.I.9 had to be returned when the traveler arrived back in Canada. Héritage Canadiana has released digitized records of nearly 5700 C.I.9 certificates from the Port of Vancouver (1928-1930).

These records show Chinese immigrants' travels and provide biographical details like names, occupations, physical descriptions, and departure/return dates. The release sheds light on migration patterns amidst immigration laws and political changes. The documents also offer insights into the photographers and references involved in the application process, reflecting the social dynamics of the time.

But searching for my great-grandfather’s C.I.9 was no easy task. The scholar Lily Cho has argued that while C.I.9 certificates served as passports for noncitizens in Canada, they also highlighted the ambiguity of granting a citizenship right to noncitizens. Despite their detailed records, the system often failed to accurately identify migrants. The certificates, though meticulously archived, revealed the challenges of accessing historical information due to issues like name Anglicization and dialect differences. If it weren’t for knowing the nuances of his village, I would likely never have found his record as his anglicized surname is “Choo” which is different from his gravestone recorded as “Chow.”

The system's reliance on human agents and photographic technology led to vulnerabilities and errors. Agre's concept of "grammars of action" elucidates how systems like the C.I.9 relied on standardized procedures for identification. While the C.I.9s captured vast amounts of information, the distinction between memory and storage underscores their limitations in processing and effectively utilizing this data. Overall, the C.I.9 system exemplifies the complexities and failures of mass information capture in immigration control.

Remembering Self-Care and Vocational Awe in the Post-Pandemic World

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This is a wonderful presentation by the scholar Fobazi Ettar as part of the NASIG 2021 Conference. I cherish Ettar's work and am truly inspired by their resilience and perseverance despite their personal challenges.  Fobazi Ettar is well-known for their work on vocational awe and library culture, particularly the impact of idealized narratives on librarianship.  Ettar's ideas have influenced and shaped the way I think about our profession (and broader topics about society, too).   Thus, Ettar and Chris Vidas' “The Future of Libraries:” Vocational Awe in a “Post-COVID” World" is an important follow-up to their seminal piece on vocational awe.

This piece is a timely addition to the scholarship, at a time when the world is just coming to terms coming out of the global pandemic. Ettarh outlines two ground rules: the acknowledgment of vocational awe, a romanticized perception of librarianship that can limit progress, and the encouragement to embrace discomfort for personal and collective growth.

Ettar delves into the perception of libraries and librarians as heroes and champions of democracy, highlighting historical figures like Margaret Edwards, Pura Belpré, Barbara Gittings, the Connecticut Four, and contemporary figures like Sarah Kowalski. Ettarh argues that the love for the job and passion, while positive, can be weaponized to exploit library workers.  The concept of "vocational awe" is explored further, portraying librarianship as a vocation rather than an occupation, leading to an uncritical reverence for libraries.

Ettarh challenges this idealized view, pointing out historical instances of library segregation and discriminatory policies. Ettarh discusses how vocational awe is weaponized in the workplace, with an emphasis on the Taylorism Model, where passion is exploited at the expense of workers' well-being. She cites examples of abuse, such as a lack of work-life separation and job creep, exacerbated by the challenges posed by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Ettar concludes with a call for collective action to set boundaries, work collectively, and resist the exploitation of passion. Ettarh urges us to prioritize self-care, advocating that caring for oneself is an act of political warfare. She emphasizes the need for libraries to evolve beyond a Silicon Valley-driven future, focusing on the well-being of library workers and their communities.

In the scholarship about EDI, there is still an emerging role of self-care for the racialized individual who often bears the brunt of the invisible labour, expected (even required) to do extra duties or the oft-heroic phrase of “working twice as hard as others.” Ettar and Vidas warn us of this with wisdom which seems so simple yet doesn’t seem to be disregarded by our work culture.

Setting aside time for your life, your loved ones, and your hobbies is vitally important. I always like to say there is no such thing as a library emergency. . . That email can wait until Monday morning or the next day.

Absurdities of the Juicero and Libraries

Juicero, circa 2013

Though Julia Glassman is no longer a librarian, her brilliant article, The Innovation Fetish and Slow Librarianship continues to influence the way I view the absurdity of academic libraries during my tenure in this profession.   The article deserves much more attention than I think it gets.   It uses the analogy of a now-defunct and short-lived fad by drawing parallels between the failed Juicero Inc., a Silicon Valley startup producing an expensive and impractical juicing machine, and the pressures faced by academic librarians to constantly innovate in their roles. 

The Juicero, initially marketed as an innovative internet-connected device, was later revealed to be unnecessary as users could achieve the same result by squeezing the juice bags with their hands. The author sees the Juicero as a symptom of late capitalism, emphasizing the pressure for constant innovation in a market saturated with gadgets.

The author relates this to the academic librarian's environment, where career advancement relies on showcasing innovation.  I've certainly experienced this myself, having been caught up in the euphoria of Web 2.0, Library 2.0 and the semantic web just a decade ago -- a sign of the obsession with innovation in academic librarianship, driven by a corporatized academia that prioritizes measurable achievements and publications.  The pressure to constantly innovate, often for its own sake, can lead to impractical projects that consume time and resources without addressing genuine needs.

Glassman recounts a scenario where MLIS students suggested changing a popular reading collection to be less "object-centric" without providing a clear vision for the alternative.  Thus, the rush for constant innovation can result in ideas that lack practicality and fail to meet the actual needs of patrons.   

The author reflects on personal experiences of succumbing to the pressure to innovate, even when existing methods were effective.  The obsession with innovation is deeply ingrained in the academic librarian profession, fueled by the need for immediate and tangible outcomes to justify investments.   I've witnessed this myself, playing a hand in accepting directives while secretly scratching my head at the logic of decisions.

I recall one instance of securing an iPad against the pillar in the middle of the library with no purpose other than it looked "innovative" to do so.   It was stolen the next day and quickly ended the innovative and expensive experiment.   Interestingly, the computer workstations adjacent to the iPad seemed to do just fine the decade before and the decade after the stolen iPad initiative. 

As a solution, the article proposes looking to the Slow Movement for guidance, advocating for a Slow Librarianship approach that prioritizes reflection and meaningful practices over a constant pursuit of impressive achievements. This alternative approach aims to provide deeper, more lasting, and more human services to patrons by rejecting the constant need for innovation and allowing for more thoughtful and responsive practices.  It's something that I'm still trying to integrate into my own work and approach to my life.   It's always a work in progress.   Thankfully, it's not considered innovative.

Trauma-Informed Librarianship for Survivors

As part of the Visible Minority Librarians of Canada Network (ViMLoC), I’ve participated in its mentorship program and have met many talented and eager early-career librarians over the years. I had recently caught up with a mentee who was going through a dark period in their life. We had lost touch over the years but the last time we had connected, they had found a dream job and were so ecstatic to begin their career at an academic library institution. I assumed they had been doing well and looking forward to meeting up for coffee. Until we met in person. I was sad to see this person share with me the experiences of microaggressions at the workplace and a toxic and dysfunctional relationship with superiors. As a racialized person, my mentee had faced racism since childhood and witnessed their parents facing discrimination and prejudice as new immigrants. They never thought that they would face this even into adulthood and at work.

 

Photo by Pierre Bamin on Unsplash

This colleague looked like a shadow of the cheerful, upbeat, once-optimistic librarian I had once known.A casualty of workplace bullying and harassment, the daily stress of fighting with their organization, followed by the gaslighting they endured, and the confrontations with their boss had finally worn down my mentee. They even brought their own cushion to the restaurant where we were eating and had to stand up every few minutes to adjust their seat to lessen the pain. Unfortunately, this has become more common now that I’ve entered mid-career in my profession and librarians of colour often seek me out for advice and oftentimes, a shoulder to cry on.

I have been researching EDI and anti-racism in libraries for more than a decade now. I’ve felt that I had hit a bit of a roadblock recently, particularly after I completed my sabbatical and put the final touches for publication. But it all feels rather hollow, especially recently. Instead of celebrating, I am dissatisfied. I feel like I have done very little to move forward in the profession. What have I exactly accomplished with this research anyways? Those of us who push for change look at removing systemic barriers and biases through EDI initiatives, but what about those individuals who have been harmed already? What can we do for them in the meantime?

I have listened to many heart-wrenching stories from survivors of toxic workplaces. Bullying. Gas lighting. The list goes on. My interviews became counselling sessions. These very personal and challenging stories were often accompanied by one medical absence or another. There were so many signs of burnout. I felt helpless to do anything but listen and capture a pattern that I was noticing among interviewees. I now realize that these experiences are trauma.

The research literature indicates that there is a large correlation between chronic stress and health challenges. The trauma expert Dr. Elizabeth Stanley has suggested that chronic stress and trauma should be viewed as part of a continuum; stress over time has the same biopsychosocial effects on individuals as acute trauma. It’s very hard for those who haven’t experienced trauma to truly understand it. An event that is stressful for one person may be traumatizing to another.

When people don’t recover from trauma, the suppressed pain may manifest itself through physical and mental illnesses, and chronic pain. There’s an emerging science of mind-body medicine that suggests that emotional pain often manifests itself physically through the body. Studies show that chronic pain and emotional pain emanate from the same part of the brain. There are some in the medical community, such as Gabor Mate (When the Body Says No) and Bessel van der Kolk (The Body Keeps the Score) who are part of a movement that explores the mind-body connection. People whose nervous systems are caused by ongoing stress become stuck in a flight-or-fight mode. But this neuroplastic pain is not imaginary: it’s real.

It goes without saying that seeking medical and counselling support is vital in the healing journey. But beyond that, what can we do to help others? What can we do if we are in these untenable situations ourselves? Karina Hagelin, who identifies as a chronically ill and disabled queer femme librarian believes each one of us can help by taking care of ourselves and others with self-compassion. Karina argues that self-care isn’t being selfish. Instead, it’s a cultural shift in how we approach our work to move towards healing — not just for our patrons, but for each other, and for ourselves. We are all survivors. I highly recommend everyone watch the webinar Trauma-Informed Librarianship: Building Communities of Care which shares ten concrete self-care strategies.

“Healing is the best revenge” is the name of Karina’s podcast. It’s such a moving and powerful phrase. One that’s so optimistic and hopeful, which is exactly what we need to turn to in times of despair. Libraries do an excellent job in devoting their mission to serving their communities, but often that community does not include their own staff. I recently shared this podcast with my mentee who I think about every day. I hope they know that their healing journey won’t be a lonely one because I will be here by their side.

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This post was previously published on Notes Between Us.

The Five Labours of Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, and Anti-racism Work by Racialized Academic Librarians

I've been fortunate to collaborate with Silvia Vong (University of Toronto iSchool) and Elaina Norlin (Association of Southeastern Research Libraries) on a project about the retention and recruitment of academic librarians in the United States and Canada.  

One of our two articles was published in the International Journal of Information, Diversity, and Inclusion. We were able to draw a great deal from the interviews and we felt it was important to acknowledge the theme of invisible labour or the different forms of labour that may emerge in EDI and anti-racism work for racialized librarians in academia. Our hope is that this work be valued even more and resources be put towards supporting those that are engaged in the work so that it is more than just a few lines on a CV. 

EDI and anti-racism are important work that deserves support, acknowledgement, and resources. The second article (under review at another OA journal) will focus on institutional aspects such as salary, promotion, etc. Below is the link to the first piece:

The Five Labours of Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, and Anti-racism Work by Racialized Academic Librarians (Silvia Vong, Allan Cho, Elaina Norlin)

Care and Compassion: Why We Need to Learn about Trauma-informed Librarianship

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I'm really trying to learn as much as I can about self-care and self-compassion which is integral to healing.   I've been focusing a lot of attention on challenging topics, particularly during my sabbatical, on discrimination, exclusion, gaslighting, bullying, the list goes on,  and much of the effects I witness (and personally experienced myself) is chronic stress of which the effects are only beginning to be understood in the medical world.  The trauma expert Dr. Elizabeth Stanley has suggested that chronic stress and trauma should be viewed as part of a continuum; stress over time has the same biopsychosocial effects on individuals as acute trauma.  As such, many of my colleagues in this profession who have faced the onslaught of chronic stress have either left the profession due to burnout or have suffered mental or chronic health issues.  

I'm seeing an emerging emphasis on Trauma-informed librarianship (TIL) in the library world nowadays, but it's still a rare topic at conference circuits.   I really enjoyed Karina Hagelin's session which I believe can help us open up conversations about taking care of ourselves and others for a better profession.  She is so raw and honest -- so deliberate in her messaging about TIL as a vital practice about creating cultural shifts in how we approach our work to move towards healing -- not just for our patrons, but for each other, and for ourselves.  This webinar introduces what is trauma and how it impacts both individuals and communities; the principles and goals of trauma-informed librarianship; how we can apply this lens to library services in actionable ways to better support survivors in our libraries, whether they are patrons or colleagues; and how we can take care of ourselves too, through 10 concrete self-care strategies.

Karina is such a courageous and engaging speaker, and being a chronically ill and disabled queer femme librarian, they have lived experiences and expertise to help us create better cultures in our libraries that center healing through radical empathy, collective care, and social justice work.  Karina is an Outreach and Instruction Librarian at Cornell University who has a very cool website where you can find more information about her work: http://www.karinakilljoy.com/ 

 

TIL is a reminder for us to take care of ourselves and to be compassionate to one another.