Doug Johnson

Names Can Never Hurt Me
Head for the Edge, Library Media Connection, November 2005

I have assiduously avoided entering into the “what do we call ourselves” job title discussions. Like too many arguments, they seem to generate more heat than light. Professionals I respect both love and despise certain job titles. Now, if you are expecting a simple pat answer to the job title question, flip to another section of this magazine. This column promises only to leave you confused at a higher level.

The changing nature of our job duties and tools is causing this to be an issue for our profession. It’s happened before. When our collections began to include multimedia materials we attempted to reflect this change by calling ourselves “media specialists” rather than “librarians” - a title then considered mired in its Latin root, librarius – related to books. Now with our tasks often involving technology, we are again casting around for a new name, reflecting this change.

However, job titles like “librarian” are really more symbolic than descriptive, and symbols work as much on an emotional level as a rational one. That’s why the topic is hotly and endlessly debated. Symbols have different cultural meanings that are legitimate. (Think of how Christians and Muslim may view a cross.)

The reaction to “librarian” says a good deal more about the person with the reaction than about the title itself. As I was growing up, librarians were the wonderful people who helped me find interesting things to read, helped me answer questions, and were in charge of an environment in which I felt comfortable. Our high school had a well-respected male librarian. So I have always felt quite proud to be considered a librarian.

Yet other poor souls have had very different experiences. Librarians to them were unreasonable authority figures who demanded quiet, had anal-retentive attitudes toward “their” materials, and may have been mean or even scary. Ardelia Lortz in Stephen King’s short story “The Library Policeman” iconifies this view. In other words, many people react to “librarian” like I react to “lawyer” or “proctologist.”

Complicating the matter are gender issues. “Librarian” has been associated primarily with women over the past century, especially in schools. Having no sexual orientation issues myself (I am north by northwest), that hasn’t bothered me, but for some guys a more “manly” job title is important. And women have also been historically disenfranchised in society. One might ask that, if we as a profession want to establish our importance in the school culture, should we be giving ourselves a title firmly associated with a powerless class? Hopefully one would only be asking on a subconscious level since no one would EVER be so sexist and misogynistic in this enlightened era.

Yet there seem to be few good alternatives to librarian as a job title – either symbolically or descriptively.

• Technologist conjures up taped-glasses, high-water pants, pocket protectors, a lack of social skills, and an abnormal affection for things that go beep, and de-legitimatizes our still important print resources.
• Media specialist is confusing since “media” is often confusing and  “specialists” tend to be despised in education.
• Library Media Specialist has 21 letters and brings with it the baggage of both titles.
• Information Specialist is a rather chilly sounding title. Today the “information specialist” is giving booktalks with puppets. Nah, I don’t think so.
• Cybrarian is goofy and sounds like something from a Robert E. Howard pulp.
• Chief Information Officer will get you laughed out of the teachers’ lounge.
• Teacher-librarian – well, who wants a hyphenated job title, really? Sounds like one of those blended married names. “Hi, my name’s Bob Librarian and this is my wife, Mary Teacher-Librarian.”
• Library Goddess, Information Diva, Queen of Stuff, etc… whatever floats your boat.

I know almost no research about job titles, although a focus group study (A Report of Findings from Six Focus Groups with K-12 Parents, Teachers and Principals, as well as Middle and High School Students, KRC Research, January 2003) commissioned by AASL reported a tantalizing glimpse into what such research might find:

In terms of professional titles, “library media specialist” is a more positive and professional label than “school librarian” – especially looking to the future. “Library media specialist” brings to mind a younger, more professional computer literate person who can consult with students and teachers alike on their modern day information needs. This title also tends to make students of both genders more interested in the possibilities of the profession.

Maybe the perfect job title will saunter down the path one day. But I am not holding my breath. In the meantime, it’s in our best interest to respect whatever moniker people prefer. Nobody likes being teased about one’s name.

My dad used to say, “Call me what you want - just don’t call me late for supper.” I would say, “Call people what they want to be called - just make sure they are doing the right thing by kids.”