Today a new friend and I talked about finding joy in work. I can’t stop thinking about it. Hers was a tale of years of professional life in multiple careers, none of which brought her the kind of joy she felt last week when, after an American Girls program, one of the girls gave her a big hug before leaving. As a program coordinator at a public library, this woman is getting paid much less than she was as an administrator, a free-lance writer/consultant working at home, etc. If you could see her, you’d see an impeccably groomed, petite woman who emanates warmth, intelligence and competence; she is a class act.
We talked about all our SLIS coursework and profs. We shared laughs, esp. about Roger Summit and Dialog. I thought she’ pee her pants when I told her I hired someone to help me with my homework. She said she was so traumatized by Dialog that she doesn’t remember how she got through it. She told me about one woman who refused to attend 401 without her husband! (And I thought I lacked confidence!)
Inbetween conversations, we attended to work-related things, such as searches for books about new babies, death and dying, toilet training, accelerated reading. Each of us troubleshot and resolved each inquiry in a professional, timely way. She’s wonderful to work with. I found the books I was looking for on two searches, although my heart still pounds when I field such calls – will I choose the right key words? Will I find what the patron wants and in time (everyone’s pushed with needy children, time constraints, etc). The patrons would leave, and my friend and I would sit wondering, what would it be like to need a book about death and dying for your 11-year old son? Will the woman who is nine months pregnant with a two-year-old holding her hand deliver her baby well and find the strength to attend to her 2-yr-old? Will the books help?
My friend and I talked about these things and the gratification we get from providing some kind of guidance in the form of a book. She told me about searching for ideas for her American Girls Around the World program. She hit a gold mine of materials on the AG website and managed to fiddle with them enough to customize them to meet the needs of her particular group. She pulled books from her library collection to accompany the program. While she did that, I learned how to use the antiquated die-cut machine and cut out 100 fire trucks for tomorrow’s toddler storytime.
Then she asked me the question that always plucks at my heart: “Don’t you want to find some way to use your PhD in Russian in your library job?” Ugh. I wrestle with this question constantly. I feel deep pangs of betrayal, even, about it. Why did I spend decades learning Russian and learning about Russian history, culture, etc., if I am not going to use it now to earn a living? I love Russian. I’m good at it. It’s a shame to have acquired fluency in a highly-inflected language and not use it in some external way. All I know is, at this time, I cannot see a way to get a fulltime job with benefits in Russian and be happy in the given environment (academe). As far as library science and Russian is concerned, what would I do with that? I try to imagine it. I would have to work in a Slavic library. What would that mean? I would do research for scholars. They would submit inquiries for materials about their research topic, and I would retrieve the materials. I would have to do many a search, the way I tried to do for my on-line retrieval course. Do I want to spend the rest of my working life doing that? Would it bring me joy? The answer is, no. What brings me joy is interacting with children, mothers, families, and others as they deal with the issues of life and struggle to extract meaning out of them. I want to be a healer whenever possible and help build lives through knowledge-knowledge about everything. I want to strengthen the middle class. I want to build bridges.
Am I utilizing technology well in this task so far? I think so. I am proud that I am searching well and finding books in the collection for patrons. They leave satisfied. I’m glad I can pull books for programs. Even if people don’t check them out, they know they’re there.
What I will be doing will bring me joy. Maybe it’s not what I’d envisioned when I was 18-40 and pursuing Russian. Maybe the point of Russian wasn’t to end with a tenured professorship. I really yearn to teach Russian, though. I am fascinated by all things Russian. It will always be that way. If the chance to use my Russian ever arises in the library science field, I will be overjoyed. But for now, the point of having learned Russian will have to remain a mystery. That’s OK. I’m pursuing another joy right now – Children/YA Librarianship.
About Me
- Sue
- I am happiest walking under a green canopy of trees, savoring cool shadows and birdsong. My greatest concern is making a living as a professional in the technological age. I live simply but like nice things. I love movies, art, music, history, children and water. I love to dance but never get the chance anymore.
5 comments:
I have to believe that the years you have spent educating yourself in Russian and now library science will merge together and provide you with a satisfying and fulfilling career. I would say follow your heart. Do what makes you happy. Be very open to opportunities around the WORLD, because they are out there. I completely understand your joy in the public library. As an undergrad I worked in public libraries during the summer. It was the reason I wanted to go to library school. But, after being in the program for 2 years my eyes have opened to the endless possibilities in this profession.
Before I go, I can think of one suggestion. Join a library organization and use it as a way to find others interested in all things Russian. I am sure there are other librarians out there with your similar interests.
You're right --networking within the field is important, and so is taking one step at a time.
I took so many intrepid steps when I was young that I find, now, I want to stay in one place and do what's "normal". But it feels kind of like a let-down. (sign of aging, I think). I also worry that it will get old fast. Only one way to find out -- get a job and do it!
What possibilities are you eyeing?
Ah, Sue, your struggles with finding meaning, purpose and enjoyment in your work touches my heart. I have bounced from profession to profession looking for that sense of what I would call vocation. In my Reference class, I observed the Reference desk at the central branch of the Dayton Public Library. Below is the text from one homework assignment where I recorded an interaction that I hope will give you some hope and encouragement:
Shortly after an hourly rotation of staff, three people approached the desk. It became apparent that they were three generations of females from the same family – elderly mother, grown daughter, and flame-red-haired granddaughter. The “middle” woman asked the male-librarian at the desk for help in finding English books in Russian. As the librarian was giving her his full attention, she explained that what she meant was books to help someone learn English, written in Russian, as well as easy-to-read books for adults learning English. The older woman wore a headscarf, and dressed simply in ways that reminded the author of the way people dressed in the USSR in January of 1984. To the surprise, delight and relief of all three patrons, the librarian responded by greeting and conversing with the Russian woman in her native language! This had the immediate effect of dissipating the “library anxiety” clearly present in the faces of the patrons. With a warm smile, the librarian rose from his seat, asked one additional clarifying question, and led the cheerful group away in search of resources. Had those same patrons approached a “para-librarian” who had only a high school diploma and fewer life-experiences to draw upon, the reference transaction probably would not have ended on such a high note.
Cheers!
h4p
The CIA is always ready to hire Russian-speaking librarians so you can keep that as a last resort. :-)
It is interesting for me to see colleagues who are happily employed doing something very different from what they originally intended. I think it's good to be open to new ideas and experiences, even if they are ones about staying close to home after a lifetime of adventure.
I must be tired, because I'm teary.
Todd, your story about the Dayton Ref Librarian is marvelous. I can imagine what a help that librarian was to those women. I will sleep better for having heard that story.
When I lived in Hazleton, PA, I got called into a congregant's oncology office b/c he couldn't converse with his Russian-speaking patient, who was a terrified 5-year old who, as a newborn, was exposed to radiation when Chernobyl blew. She lived with her mother and father in Chernigov, the ancient Rus' capital (before Kiev), and the closest town to the Cherbonobyl reactor. Now, having just emigrated to the US, the little girl's teeth were falling out. To make a long story short, I became the translator, social worker, and legal advocate for this family. The girl, Anastasia, just got married in August--I flew out for her wedding. It was amazing to look at her and realize that she survived the Chernobyl blast and turned into this beautiful, happy, young woman. So, even though my Russian hasn't been used to earn money, it has brought me a more than decent living many times over. This is something that I need to value.
I've been offered CIA/military jobs at every juncture of my Russian study. The last one came after my PhD ceremony at Bryn Mawr when my advisor told me he could get me a job teaching West Point cadets. I refused. Is foreign language learning destined only for the military-industrial complex? I don't think so.
It helps to hear your words, too Mary Alice. For such a long time, I thought that my vocation would be something else. Time to find happiness in my own back yard.
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