OK, I have to force myself to sit down and write a conference wrap-up now or it will never get done. Much of my thinking about this conference has to do with socializing, cliques, and professional development. Hit me up in the socialsphere if you just want to know what I thought was a great program. Or better yet, go read #ala2009 or Library Journal.
This conference was epic for me on a lot of levels. I was directly involved in two programs: ACRL 101 (my first speaking gig at ALA Annual) and ACRL New Members Discussion Group (of which I am now the convener). 101 was awesome and I had a lot of fun, more fun than I expected to. Preparing my remarks on how to get the most out of conference really caused me to do some reflecting about my first Annual (2007) and what that experience was like for me.
My first Annual was different because I was a student-to-staff participant, interning to RUSA. So when I got really overwhelmed (frequently) I had someplace to go—the staff office. Anyway, thinking about that had an impact on my conference this year, I think. I always feel hyper aware of the social dynamics of conference, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering how those cool kids came to be those cool kids (not a specific set of people, I think your cool kids may be different than mine, but whoever they are, you know them when you see them). How did they break in to their clique? How did the clique become a clique? Do those people even know that we see them that way?
So it’s interesting that as I was cruising through Chicago thinking these things I happened upon a conversation with someone who is probably in a lot of people’s cool kids clique, Michael Porter (libraryman, @libraryman). This was at the OCLC blogger’s salon, where I saw some really awesome people (and some really drunk people. Open bar, what what?). I’d never met the illustrious Porter before, but he seemed a nice enough guy who was willing to riff on these topics with me and some other folks.
He was talking about his awareness that people might perceive certain “long-time” library bloggers as belonging to some elitist club, but that he didn’t want it to be that way. Michael told me that he doesn’t want to be in a clique, they didn’t set out to be a clique and they aren’t really sure how to convey that to other people. He even talked about how he has intentionally backed off of posting the big fun issues on his blog so that newbie bloggers can get their recognition for posting on big fun issues. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t note that his chest puffs out just the slightest bit when he talks about taking this intentional blogging backseat and then lowers his voice to tell us that he’s been at this for 6 years and it’s only natural that he’s got an established foothold in this community. He’s totally right too, puffing and all. (I mean no offense, it was kinda endearing, really).
Ultimately, he said exactly what I’m saying, the only way to meet those people is to go somewhere they are and talk to them. They might have rad friends to introduce you to. So on and so forth. This was also timely, since this year is the first year I really pushed myself to go where the interesting folks are and strike up random conversations (like that radtacular conversation with Walt about all things Buffy).
I spent all day Friday at the Unconference (you can catch the tweets there also) and shared time with people I might have been in awe of in the past. I sat at a discussion table with Meredith Farkas and talked innovation, without a single fangirl moment. When I was reflecting on this later I realized that I’m not a fangirl anymore. In library school I may have been because I wasn’t a practitioner, really. Everything I read seemed so fancy and alluring. Everything someone did felt unattainable and slightly sparkly.
Now these are just people to me. People who, during their work day, do more or less what I do during my work day. Sometimes we innovate in different ways, but really, it’s mostly the same. What makes made us different is all in the attitude. It’s nice to spend time with these folks at conference because they have the confidence to put their ideas out there and they’re willing to share. There’s relatively little proprietary mojo attached to the ideas they generate.
But you can generate ideas, too. You have a voice, use it. Make friends, share ideas. It’s like the poster says, you learned it all in kindergarten (sorry LIS programs, no poster for you)—you just need to put it into practice.
I swear I learned more at conference than how to socialize with innovators, but it really didn’t make an interesting blog post.
shin·y (shī'nē)
adj.
shin·i·er, shin·i·est
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