You probably didn't know this: some libraries aren't big enough to hold their own stuff.
Several years ago, I got it into my head to look at what percentage of our materials were checked out at any given moment. I was impressed to discover -- at least about five years ago -- that the answer was "around 25%."
Then I realized something else: if those materials came back, we had nowhere to put them. We depended on at least that level of use to allow us to buy anything new.
As everyone who uses the library is surely now aware, we've made some changes over the past couple of years. We've studied up on the merchandising used by successful bookstores. We've gotten a lot more ruthless about the materials we keep. If they're not used, they don't last. We don't have room for them.
At a couple of our neighborhood libraries -- our laboratories for defining the 21st century library -- we set very aggressive goals. If we do a really good job of matching our materials to public demand, we thought, we ought to be able to check out fully half of our collection.
And guess what? Last week, our Neighborhood Library in Lone Tree hit 60%. It is the first of our libraries ever to hit that mark.
For most libraries, 20% of the inventory drives 80% of the business. If you look at a library's most popular items (of which some 80% might be checked out), they tend to be what's new. The bestsellers. The Oprah choices. DVDs and music.
But not only just what's new. There are also perennial classics, particularly in the children's areas. Series. A few beloved authors who find new generations of fans.
The question of the Neighborhood Library was: what if we made the 80% of hot items a full 80% of the stock?
Answer: then you check out 60% of the whole collection. (And who knows if we've hit the top?)
I've been checking around with my library colleagues, and this is mighty unusual. Most of the libraries in the United States never rise above approximately 25% of their collection in use. Some are in the 10% range -- or under.
So do I judge this experiment a success? I do.
It seems sensible that a heavily used library is of more value to the public than one that isn't.
It is also the case that a library with lots more of its items in motion, can provide more items overall. Why? Because there's more room to display them, at least until they get snatched up again (and they get snatched a lot quicker from displays than they do from spine-out bookshelves).
This percentage of use is not as high in our regional libraries. Why is that? Because we're not quite as ruthless in our inventory control.
At Roxborough and Lone Tree, a book has to go out at least 7 times a year to earn its space. But at our other libraries, we've tried to hold sufficient space for items that might be called definitive in some non-fiction field, or classics (such as the gloomy "Ethan Frome," or, and don't ask me why, the maddening and incomprehensible works of Faulkner).
It does seem a reasonable expectation that a library should also preserve "the best" of our culture's intellectual works. Libraries serve not only the function of popular entertainment, but also of education and lifelong learning.
But I'm left with a curious mix of emotions. On the one hand, I am very proud of our staff (and it takes the whole staff) for reaching this impressive new level of service, wringing ever more use out of every square foot we've got. That's a victory worth celebrating.
On the other hand, all of this innovation put off, but didn't solve, our core problem. We have more patrons, with higher expectations and demands. But our facilities are maxed out.
Bottom line: We have less library space per patron this year than we did last year. That means less "stuff" for everybody, whether those items are popular or not.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
April 17, 2008 - library goes green
A LONG time ago, my wife and I wrote an article about "green librarianship." Just then -- back around the late 1980s -- a lot of information was coming out about "sick building syndrome," and the toxic effects of some chemicals.
Since then, I have tried, with varying degrees of success, to practice the principles of green librarianship.
My continuing interest in this topic is based on an administrative realization. People imagine that the costs of library facility operations are all about their construction. That's not true. The cost is in operations.
I think designing our buildings to be green is not just a good thing to do, it demonstrably saves taxpayer money. I've written in the past about "LEED-certification" (LEED stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design; the levels move up from silver to gold to platinum.) We hope to be pursuing LEED-certification for all our future library buildings.
We've even invested in LEED-accreditation for our Facilities Manager (I believe he's one of the first in the county, if not the first), and he's already saved us money.
There are also some retrofits – making an existing building greener. Some examples: we put solar panels on our Neighborhood Library at Lone Tree, cut back water use in our restrooms, retrofit some of our older and inefficient lighting, and added occupancy sensors for lighting controls. It adds up.
Another thing we've done at our buildings is to ensure a good supply of fresh air. That drives up heating and cooling costs, but it keeps public and staff healthier. Our Heating/Ventilation/Air-Conditioning system also has some sophisticated software that helps us manage our energy use better.
Yet another approach is recycling. We have an in-house recycling program for all kinds of waste. Incidentally, soon we will no longer offer plastic bags for people to stuff their checkout materials into. But we encourage you to bring your own bags.
We also offer (for purchase) a large canvas bag with the library logo on it. We're working on a smaller bag that we'll sell for $1 each.
In April, during National Library Week (April 13-19), we're offering some "GO GREEN programming" -- on the topics of homemade natural cleaning products, recycling with worms, and organic food. Check our website for details (DouglasCountyLibraries.org).
Do you have some tips for going green? If so, send them to gogreen@dclibraries.org. Maybe you've discovered or learned something that really makes a difference in your own home or business. Share! We plan to post the best of what we gather.
Incidentally, Douglas County Libraries is not the only Douglas County organization working on this effort. In fact, all members of the Partnership of Douglas County Governments have put "going green" -- sustainability -- on our mutual agenda.
We have been blessed with an extraordinarily beautiful natural setting in the county; respecting that asset in our construction and operations preserves the very thing that brought many of us here in the first place. It also represents a more enlightened, long-term view of the real costs of government.
Since then, I have tried, with varying degrees of success, to practice the principles of green librarianship.
My continuing interest in this topic is based on an administrative realization. People imagine that the costs of library facility operations are all about their construction. That's not true. The cost is in operations.
I think designing our buildings to be green is not just a good thing to do, it demonstrably saves taxpayer money. I've written in the past about "LEED-certification" (LEED stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design; the levels move up from silver to gold to platinum.) We hope to be pursuing LEED-certification for all our future library buildings.
We've even invested in LEED-accreditation for our Facilities Manager (I believe he's one of the first in the county, if not the first), and he's already saved us money.
There are also some retrofits – making an existing building greener. Some examples: we put solar panels on our Neighborhood Library at Lone Tree, cut back water use in our restrooms, retrofit some of our older and inefficient lighting, and added occupancy sensors for lighting controls. It adds up.
Another thing we've done at our buildings is to ensure a good supply of fresh air. That drives up heating and cooling costs, but it keeps public and staff healthier. Our Heating/Ventilation/Air-Conditioning system also has some sophisticated software that helps us manage our energy use better.
Yet another approach is recycling. We have an in-house recycling program for all kinds of waste. Incidentally, soon we will no longer offer plastic bags for people to stuff their checkout materials into. But we encourage you to bring your own bags.
We also offer (for purchase) a large canvas bag with the library logo on it. We're working on a smaller bag that we'll sell for $1 each.
In April, during National Library Week (April 13-19), we're offering some "GO GREEN programming" -- on the topics of homemade natural cleaning products, recycling with worms, and organic food. Check our website for details (DouglasCountyLibraries.org).
Do you have some tips for going green? If so, send them to gogreen@dclibraries.org. Maybe you've discovered or learned something that really makes a difference in your own home or business. Share! We plan to post the best of what we gather.
Incidentally, Douglas County Libraries is not the only Douglas County organization working on this effort. In fact, all members of the Partnership of Douglas County Governments have put "going green" -- sustainability -- on our mutual agenda.
We have been blessed with an extraordinarily beautiful natural setting in the county; respecting that asset in our construction and operations preserves the very thing that brought many of us here in the first place. It also represents a more enlightened, long-term view of the real costs of government.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
April 3, 2008 - we're building (virtual) communities
There was a time when people wrote letters to their friends and families, providing a highly detailed record of people's lives and times. Those letters are archived in libraries and museums today.
But historians are worried about something you may not be: how do we preserve the record of our own times? How do you archive a phone call? Who saves email?
Enter the "blog." The blog, or "web log," is an online journal, available for perusal and commentary by the public.
You might be thinking: okay, I can see why someone might want to keep a journal. But why on earth would you want to put it out on the World Wide Web? Come to that, who would want to READ someone else's journal?
Well, people can post responses to blog entries, or even subscribe to a "feed" to keep up with events in the lives of friends and family. Moreover, blogs let you link to other interesting things on the Web.
But there's more to it than that. For one thing, there's a lot of interesting reporting and commentary going on out there -- outside of the control of the corporate media giants.
For another, there's that issue of gathering and preserving information about our own life and times.
Recently, I spent some time with a demo of our utterly redesigned website. Our staff will get to see it first (in April); we have some testing and tweaking to do.
But when we roll it out for the public (in May, we hope), you'll see a site that is very like a blog.
By that, I mean several things:
* it will look fresher, more modern, and be much easier to navigate and search through.
* people can gather in small groups and interact using web tools and space that the library provides. Think of it as a virtual community center.
We're calling this part of our new website "Community Groups." The idea is to provide people a place to organize and interact around a hobby, event, or topic of interest.
One person from each group will be the moderator and will be authorized to "approve" all other group members. Groups will be provided a blog, wiki, poll, calendar, and a small upload space for images -- the tools of Web 2.0.
Who are we welcoming into our virtual community?
The list includes soccer groups, carpooling moms, play date groups, the Downtown Parker Development group, the church choir, the cub scouts, the quilters, the recyclers -- the familiar people that we see in our library meeting room’s everyday.
Take the parents of the Barracuda swim team. They would join the group and logon to post information such as swim meet locations and times, contact numbers, snack schedules, images of the last swim meet and a poll for end-of-the season coach gift ideas. The parents can sign up for RSS and receive new posts through e-mail.
With the addition of these blog-like features, the library website becomes something new: a library branch, open 24 hours a day, and run by the community itself. And in the process, it writes its own history.
But historians are worried about something you may not be: how do we preserve the record of our own times? How do you archive a phone call? Who saves email?
Enter the "blog." The blog, or "web log," is an online journal, available for perusal and commentary by the public.
You might be thinking: okay, I can see why someone might want to keep a journal. But why on earth would you want to put it out on the World Wide Web? Come to that, who would want to READ someone else's journal?
Well, people can post responses to blog entries, or even subscribe to a "feed" to keep up with events in the lives of friends and family. Moreover, blogs let you link to other interesting things on the Web.
But there's more to it than that. For one thing, there's a lot of interesting reporting and commentary going on out there -- outside of the control of the corporate media giants.
For another, there's that issue of gathering and preserving information about our own life and times.
Recently, I spent some time with a demo of our utterly redesigned website. Our staff will get to see it first (in April); we have some testing and tweaking to do.
But when we roll it out for the public (in May, we hope), you'll see a site that is very like a blog.
By that, I mean several things:
* it will look fresher, more modern, and be much easier to navigate and search through.
* people can gather in small groups and interact using web tools and space that the library provides. Think of it as a virtual community center.
We're calling this part of our new website "Community Groups." The idea is to provide people a place to organize and interact around a hobby, event, or topic of interest.
One person from each group will be the moderator and will be authorized to "approve" all other group members. Groups will be provided a blog, wiki, poll, calendar, and a small upload space for images -- the tools of Web 2.0.
Who are we welcoming into our virtual community?
The list includes soccer groups, carpooling moms, play date groups, the Downtown Parker Development group, the church choir, the cub scouts, the quilters, the recyclers -- the familiar people that we see in our library meeting room’s everyday.
Take the parents of the Barracuda swim team. They would join the group and logon to post information such as swim meet locations and times, contact numbers, snack schedules, images of the last swim meet and a poll for end-of-the season coach gift ideas. The parents can sign up for RSS and receive new posts through e-mail.
With the addition of these blog-like features, the library website becomes something new: a library branch, open 24 hours a day, and run by the community itself. And in the process, it writes its own history.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
March 20, 2008 - who needs reference librarians?
Some of today's reference librarians are worried. You can see it in a recent editorial in Library Journal, by editor emeritus John Berry. I've heard it from my own staff in a recent round of talks with them.
They see a profound shift in the way we do business. To some, it looks like a de-skilling of the profession (without the hyphen, that looks like "desk-killing" to me, which might be accurate): doing away with circulation desks, putting more people "on the floor," shifting to paraprofessionals tasks that were once reserved for those with advanced degrees.
Together, it seems to add up to a more retail orientation, and a de-valuing of the education librarians worked so hard to achieve.
I understand the anxiety: when people's jobs change, they get nervous. They want to do well, and sometimes, the new "frame" isn't clear.
I'm one of those directors who wholeheartedly supports moving to what I think is a 21st century model of library services. But I absolutely reject the notion that the intent is to devalue my own profession. To the contrary.
Librarians are right: we ARE seeing a profound shift in the way we do business. It is a bottom-up transformation. It will end by greatly increasing the real and perceived value of librarians.
It begins with our adoption of new technologies: self-check, automated returns. These technologies haven't been cheap: but they are cheaper than people. And they do the mechanical, repetitive tasks that machines are good at, but take a steep toll on human beings in cumulative injuries.
Using machines to do such tasks is sensible: it frees up people to do what machines can't do -- use intelligence, provide direct service to other human beings.
But what did we do with the people who no longer had to stand behind circulation desks? We gave them additional training (and pay), and put them out where they could provide that service.
But that encroached on "traditional" reference territory. And to a certain extent that's accurate: people without library degrees are indeed talking to patrons, recommending books, building displays, and assisting with various library tools.
What then, is the job of the reference librarian?
I believe there are several:
* expert backup. Many of the questions we get aren't hard. In fact, about 84% of them are handled very quickly. But that last 16% is genuinely tough. For those, we really need experts, with the experience, training, and tenacity to track down accurate information. Reference librarians then become team leaders of newly integrated circulation and reference staffs. They're still in our building, and they still talk to real patrons.
* filling the gaps in our collection. Most of our new materials arrive in a never-ending flow: we've worked up purchase profiles based on what we've learned about the interests of our community. But there are gaps, both in our print and our electronic collections. We look for our professionals to help us identify the core works, classics, or altogether missing topics and perspectives.
* community reference work. I've touched on this in the past; I believe it to be the frontier of professional reference work. In brief, we need to send our experts out of the library, into the community, to listen closely for the questions, sometimes crucially important to the community, that it just doesn't occur to anyone to take to the library.
We're learning a lot about this. It does require a mix of new skills and old. For instance, our librarians are trained to conduct individual reference interviews. But how do you interview a community group -- and extract clear and meaningful questions?
Then, we go back and do the research -- an old skill. But then, we have to package it, and present it either in public or on our website -- and that's a newer skill.
This transformation won't happen overnight. But it will happen. Why?
Because we know it works. The new model results in significant and continuing growth of use -- that's added value.
For reference librarians, the more passive strategy of the past -- waiting for people to come to us -- simply means that we're not doing our best to provide the quality reference services the whole community has paid for.
Who needs reference librarians? We ALL do. But they might have to show up at your meeting before you realize it.
They see a profound shift in the way we do business. To some, it looks like a de-skilling of the profession (without the hyphen, that looks like "desk-killing" to me, which might be accurate): doing away with circulation desks, putting more people "on the floor," shifting to paraprofessionals tasks that were once reserved for those with advanced degrees.
Together, it seems to add up to a more retail orientation, and a de-valuing of the education librarians worked so hard to achieve.
I understand the anxiety: when people's jobs change, they get nervous. They want to do well, and sometimes, the new "frame" isn't clear.
I'm one of those directors who wholeheartedly supports moving to what I think is a 21st century model of library services. But I absolutely reject the notion that the intent is to devalue my own profession. To the contrary.
Librarians are right: we ARE seeing a profound shift in the way we do business. It is a bottom-up transformation. It will end by greatly increasing the real and perceived value of librarians.
It begins with our adoption of new technologies: self-check, automated returns. These technologies haven't been cheap: but they are cheaper than people. And they do the mechanical, repetitive tasks that machines are good at, but take a steep toll on human beings in cumulative injuries.
Using machines to do such tasks is sensible: it frees up people to do what machines can't do -- use intelligence, provide direct service to other human beings.
But what did we do with the people who no longer had to stand behind circulation desks? We gave them additional training (and pay), and put them out where they could provide that service.
But that encroached on "traditional" reference territory. And to a certain extent that's accurate: people without library degrees are indeed talking to patrons, recommending books, building displays, and assisting with various library tools.
What then, is the job of the reference librarian?
I believe there are several:
* expert backup. Many of the questions we get aren't hard. In fact, about 84% of them are handled very quickly. But that last 16% is genuinely tough. For those, we really need experts, with the experience, training, and tenacity to track down accurate information. Reference librarians then become team leaders of newly integrated circulation and reference staffs. They're still in our building, and they still talk to real patrons.
* filling the gaps in our collection. Most of our new materials arrive in a never-ending flow: we've worked up purchase profiles based on what we've learned about the interests of our community. But there are gaps, both in our print and our electronic collections. We look for our professionals to help us identify the core works, classics, or altogether missing topics and perspectives.
* community reference work. I've touched on this in the past; I believe it to be the frontier of professional reference work. In brief, we need to send our experts out of the library, into the community, to listen closely for the questions, sometimes crucially important to the community, that it just doesn't occur to anyone to take to the library.
We're learning a lot about this. It does require a mix of new skills and old. For instance, our librarians are trained to conduct individual reference interviews. But how do you interview a community group -- and extract clear and meaningful questions?
Then, we go back and do the research -- an old skill. But then, we have to package it, and present it either in public or on our website -- and that's a newer skill.
This transformation won't happen overnight. But it will happen. Why?
Because we know it works. The new model results in significant and continuing growth of use -- that's added value.
For reference librarians, the more passive strategy of the past -- waiting for people to come to us -- simply means that we're not doing our best to provide the quality reference services the whole community has paid for.
Who needs reference librarians? We ALL do. But they might have to show up at your meeting before you realize it.
March 27, 2008 - Meet Aspen Walker
[After almost 7 years, my previous Executive Assistant, Patti Owen-DeLay moved on and up to another job. I'm very pleased to introduce my new assistant, Aspen Walker. As you'll see, she brings a lot to the job.]
In 1997, I graduated with a Bachelor of University Studies. This degree path allowed me to peruse and pursue many a passion, including literature, writing, painting, and philosophy. I had diploma in hand, but nary an idea about what to do with the rest of my life.
Luckily, I was guided by two aims that took precedence over just any paycheck: I wanted to serve others, and keep growing and learning for the rest of my life. I made career choices based on these objectives, but something was missing.
Then, in 2002, I started working for the Community Relations department at Douglas County Libraries. Finally, my opportunity for right livelihood stood up and stared me right in the face: I am destined for a life in libraries.
I should have known. A fifth-generation Douglas County native, I grew up on a mountain ranch a few miles west of Sedalia. The nearest friend was miles away, and my childhood was very isolated. I played in the woods, rode my horse, and read, a lot. I loved coming down the hill to visit the Louviers or Castle Rock (now Philip S. Miller) Libraries to check out fat stacks of books. My baby book has a reading program certificate from the Castle Rock Library, back when it was located on Gilbert Street.
In high school, some of my paintings were exhibited at the Philip S. Miller Library, and I spent many an afternoon studying there. Then, as today, I loved books of all kinds, and routinely devoured one a day. My teachers said I should study English. None of us ever made the jump to librarianship.
Throughout my life, I have used the local library in many of the ways most of us do: to excel at a job or in school, learn a new craft, discover everything I could about having a baby, make sure my kids became great readers and students, overcome adversity, connect with others, and to have fun and relax. It just took awhile for libraries to occur to me as a career path.
Today I live in a colorful, creaky old house in Sedalia, with my husband (a gifted musician and guitar teacher), and two beautiful, witty daughters. I am halfway through a Masters degree in Library and Information Management, and I am feeling right at home.
My new job, serving as assistant to Library Director, Jamie LaRue, is a much-appreciated opportunity. I get to practice my penchant for organization, while gaining an invaluable look at the inner-workings of libraries from one of the best library directors around, at one of the highest-rated library districts in the nation.
I look forward to a long library career in public service, as well as the promotion of life-long learning, intellectual freedom, and community building. I am eager to continue using my skills in community relations, fundraising, and event planning, while exercising my enthusiasm for knowledge, information, and service as a public librarian.
I try to steer clear from holding a lot of rigid and fixed beliefs. Strong beliefs cause much turmoil, especially convictions that exclude and ignore the importance of different ways of thinking. I absolutely love to explore viewpoints, ideas, and philosophies, but I try to remain objectively rooted in the understanding that most things are pretty subjective. In addition to some deep-seated ideas about the importance of kindness, honesty, service, respect, and persistent learning and growth, there is one thing I am absolutely willing to believe in: libraries.
Aspen Walker is the Executive Assistant to the Library Director at Douglas County Libraries (DouglasCountyLibraries.org, 303-791-READ).
In 1997, I graduated with a Bachelor of University Studies. This degree path allowed me to peruse and pursue many a passion, including literature, writing, painting, and philosophy. I had diploma in hand, but nary an idea about what to do with the rest of my life.
Luckily, I was guided by two aims that took precedence over just any paycheck: I wanted to serve others, and keep growing and learning for the rest of my life. I made career choices based on these objectives, but something was missing.
Then, in 2002, I started working for the Community Relations department at Douglas County Libraries. Finally, my opportunity for right livelihood stood up and stared me right in the face: I am destined for a life in libraries.
I should have known. A fifth-generation Douglas County native, I grew up on a mountain ranch a few miles west of Sedalia. The nearest friend was miles away, and my childhood was very isolated. I played in the woods, rode my horse, and read, a lot. I loved coming down the hill to visit the Louviers or Castle Rock (now Philip S. Miller) Libraries to check out fat stacks of books. My baby book has a reading program certificate from the Castle Rock Library, back when it was located on Gilbert Street.
In high school, some of my paintings were exhibited at the Philip S. Miller Library, and I spent many an afternoon studying there. Then, as today, I loved books of all kinds, and routinely devoured one a day. My teachers said I should study English. None of us ever made the jump to librarianship.
Throughout my life, I have used the local library in many of the ways most of us do: to excel at a job or in school, learn a new craft, discover everything I could about having a baby, make sure my kids became great readers and students, overcome adversity, connect with others, and to have fun and relax. It just took awhile for libraries to occur to me as a career path.
Today I live in a colorful, creaky old house in Sedalia, with my husband (a gifted musician and guitar teacher), and two beautiful, witty daughters. I am halfway through a Masters degree in Library and Information Management, and I am feeling right at home.
My new job, serving as assistant to Library Director, Jamie LaRue, is a much-appreciated opportunity. I get to practice my penchant for organization, while gaining an invaluable look at the inner-workings of libraries from one of the best library directors around, at one of the highest-rated library districts in the nation.
I look forward to a long library career in public service, as well as the promotion of life-long learning, intellectual freedom, and community building. I am eager to continue using my skills in community relations, fundraising, and event planning, while exercising my enthusiasm for knowledge, information, and service as a public librarian.
I try to steer clear from holding a lot of rigid and fixed beliefs. Strong beliefs cause much turmoil, especially convictions that exclude and ignore the importance of different ways of thinking. I absolutely love to explore viewpoints, ideas, and philosophies, but I try to remain objectively rooted in the understanding that most things are pretty subjective. In addition to some deep-seated ideas about the importance of kindness, honesty, service, respect, and persistent learning and growth, there is one thing I am absolutely willing to believe in: libraries.
Aspen Walker is the Executive Assistant to the Library Director at Douglas County Libraries (DouglasCountyLibraries.org, 303-791-READ).
Thursday, March 13, 2008
March 13, 2008 - evaluate performance, not people
Every other year, the Public Library Association has an annual conference. This year it will be held in Minneapolis, at the end of March.
It happens that several of our staff will be presenting at the conference this year, evidence that Douglas County Libraries is well-regarded across the nation.
One of the presentations is a partnership: Eloise May, the director of the Arapahoe Library District, and I, are teaming up with two Board members (Howard Rothman from her library, Mark Weston from ours) to talk about the topic of "evaluating the director." This presentation is directed mainly at the other citizen trustees of libraries around the country.
Eloise did a lot of the research, pulling in representative samples from various kinds of libraries: municipal, county, independent district. Then we've tried to make sense of the different approaches.
One of the clearest summaries we've found was written almost 20 years ago by Nancy Bolt, Colorado's former state librarian. She described three broad approaches to annually evaluating the chief administrator of a library:
1. Traits. Here the focus is on individual personality characteristics. For instance, the director is rated on punctuality, or communication style.
This might be helpful for a first time director. But after a board works through this once or twice, it quickly becomes obvious that most people don't adopt a whole new set of behavior traits over the course of a year.
Trait-based evaluation may help a board get to know the strengths and weaknesses of a new leader (and might help the new leader identify some skills that need work) -- but that doesn't necessarily determine how well the organization is doing.
2. Job description. Here the focus is on comparing director tasks to the job description as created by the governing body. Of course, it does make sense, from time to time, to make sure that directors are spending their time on the duties for which they are being paid, and that those duties are accurately described somewhere.
On the other hand, this approach doesn't usually capture strategic initiatives or planning goals. It's generic, by necessity over-broad. ("Prepares an annual budget." But to accomplish what?) A list of tasks is useful for lower level jobs, but tends not to work so well for administrative positions.
3. Organizational performance. Here the idea is that directors are not being judged as people, or by how well they fit the description of duties, but by how well the organization is doing according to its long range plan.
The Board (or other governing body for some libraries) sets the direction: we want to accomplish X by some date.
The director is then judged by whether or not X got done by that date, or can at least measure significant progress to that end.
To our surprise, a great many of the evaluation processes being used in the library world fall into the first two categories. It's the kind of approach that CAN lead either to irrelevancies, or to the status quo, as opposed to the accomplishment of clear business objectives.
To be fair, of course, a leader who has rapidly deteriorating behavior traits, or fails to perform some key part of the job description, needs to be confronted about that.
But the truth is, in both the public and private sectors, we get distracted by tasks and personality quirks. We lose sight of the fact that successful organizations actually set big goals, and work to achieve them.
And that should be the primary focus of leadership evaluation.
It happens that several of our staff will be presenting at the conference this year, evidence that Douglas County Libraries is well-regarded across the nation.
One of the presentations is a partnership: Eloise May, the director of the Arapahoe Library District, and I, are teaming up with two Board members (Howard Rothman from her library, Mark Weston from ours) to talk about the topic of "evaluating the director." This presentation is directed mainly at the other citizen trustees of libraries around the country.
Eloise did a lot of the research, pulling in representative samples from various kinds of libraries: municipal, county, independent district. Then we've tried to make sense of the different approaches.
One of the clearest summaries we've found was written almost 20 years ago by Nancy Bolt, Colorado's former state librarian. She described three broad approaches to annually evaluating the chief administrator of a library:
1. Traits. Here the focus is on individual personality characteristics. For instance, the director is rated on punctuality, or communication style.
This might be helpful for a first time director. But after a board works through this once or twice, it quickly becomes obvious that most people don't adopt a whole new set of behavior traits over the course of a year.
Trait-based evaluation may help a board get to know the strengths and weaknesses of a new leader (and might help the new leader identify some skills that need work) -- but that doesn't necessarily determine how well the organization is doing.
2. Job description. Here the focus is on comparing director tasks to the job description as created by the governing body. Of course, it does make sense, from time to time, to make sure that directors are spending their time on the duties for which they are being paid, and that those duties are accurately described somewhere.
On the other hand, this approach doesn't usually capture strategic initiatives or planning goals. It's generic, by necessity over-broad. ("Prepares an annual budget." But to accomplish what?) A list of tasks is useful for lower level jobs, but tends not to work so well for administrative positions.
3. Organizational performance. Here the idea is that directors are not being judged as people, or by how well they fit the description of duties, but by how well the organization is doing according to its long range plan.
The Board (or other governing body for some libraries) sets the direction: we want to accomplish X by some date.
The director is then judged by whether or not X got done by that date, or can at least measure significant progress to that end.
To our surprise, a great many of the evaluation processes being used in the library world fall into the first two categories. It's the kind of approach that CAN lead either to irrelevancies, or to the status quo, as opposed to the accomplishment of clear business objectives.
To be fair, of course, a leader who has rapidly deteriorating behavior traits, or fails to perform some key part of the job description, needs to be confronted about that.
But the truth is, in both the public and private sectors, we get distracted by tasks and personality quirks. We lose sight of the fact that successful organizations actually set big goals, and work to achieve them.
And that should be the primary focus of leadership evaluation.
Monday, March 10, 2008
April 10, 2008 - power corrupts
"Power corrupts. Absolute power is kind of neat."
-- John Lehman, Secretary of the Navy, 1981-1987
I'm just going to come out and admit it. I, as director of the Douglas County Libraries, abuse my position.
I -- and let me be clear about this, I have NO intention of changing -- have let people know in our receiving department, our cataloging department, our circulation department, that I, Jamie LaRue, Library Director, get the comic books first.
That's right. Before anybody else. Before any tax payer in the county. I don't care WHO is waiting for them. I'm first in line.
I could try to pretty this up. When I was a kid, all kinds of other authorities tried to take my comic books away from me.
I remember, back in fourth grade, that I would try to hide them in my notebook, and my teacher (when I failed to respond to a question) would seize my comics from me. I never got them back.
My father, when I was away for a summer, literally burned (I figured out later) about $20,000 worth of comics (in 1972 dollars). I had the first 16 issues of Spiderman. The first Thor. The whole first several YEARS of the original X-men. I had the Carmen Infantino Flashes.
I remember the moment when I sat down with a price guide, and pointed out that my entire college education (and a big chunk of his second house mortgage) could have been entirely funded from just one of the grocery bags full of comics my dad consigned to ash one day. He was stunned. For all the good it did me.
Adults -- cruel, insensitive, foolish adults -- have repeatedly stolen or destroyed priceless treasures, key volumes in my personal library, at MANY moments of my young life.
Not that I'm bitter.
But I'm not going to go there. Finally, and I realize that a lot of people don't get this at all, I'm not a child any more. Yes, I've been victimized. But I am a victim no more. There comes a time when you have to reach deep inside yourself and find your inner adult.
But here's the thing: My inner adult likes comic books.
So, as director, I directed the investment of library funds in the collection of whole bunches of them.
I will say that we've ruined the comics for investment purposes. We slap barcodes, markings, covers, etc. on them to help them stand up to repeated use. That absolutely devalues them for collecting purposes.
But that's not the point. I firmly believe that some of the best writing in the world today -- and some of the finest artwork -- still takes place in the world of comic books.
As I have noted to several concerned parents, when I was just 5 years old, I was the only kid on my block who could spell "invulnerable." That's worth something.
I'll also point out that comics speak to young adults at precisely the moment that they lose interest in libraries. Comics surprise and re-engage them, reconnecting them to a world that combines word and image in a way that is far more demanding, far more literate, than TV or film.
I hasten to assure you that I'm not absolutely corrupt. I work hard to ensure that I add just one day to the distribution of our comics. There are times when I come home with 20 of the latest issues, and, sparing NO personal effort, work through every single one of them in a single night.
My wife has learned that, on those nights, I really can't be called upon to do anything else.
But there it is. I have been given great power, great authority. And I have taken total advantage of it to read the library's comic books first.
As Thor, the Norse God of Thunder (as interpreted by Stan Lee), might put it, "So mote it be."
-- John Lehman, Secretary of the Navy, 1981-1987
I'm just going to come out and admit it. I, as director of the Douglas County Libraries, abuse my position.
I -- and let me be clear about this, I have NO intention of changing -- have let people know in our receiving department, our cataloging department, our circulation department, that I, Jamie LaRue, Library Director, get the comic books first.
That's right. Before anybody else. Before any tax payer in the county. I don't care WHO is waiting for them. I'm first in line.
I could try to pretty this up. When I was a kid, all kinds of other authorities tried to take my comic books away from me.
I remember, back in fourth grade, that I would try to hide them in my notebook, and my teacher (when I failed to respond to a question) would seize my comics from me. I never got them back.
My father, when I was away for a summer, literally burned (I figured out later) about $20,000 worth of comics (in 1972 dollars). I had the first 16 issues of Spiderman. The first Thor. The whole first several YEARS of the original X-men. I had the Carmen Infantino Flashes.
I remember the moment when I sat down with a price guide, and pointed out that my entire college education (and a big chunk of his second house mortgage) could have been entirely funded from just one of the grocery bags full of comics my dad consigned to ash one day. He was stunned. For all the good it did me.
Adults -- cruel, insensitive, foolish adults -- have repeatedly stolen or destroyed priceless treasures, key volumes in my personal library, at MANY moments of my young life.
Not that I'm bitter.
But I'm not going to go there. Finally, and I realize that a lot of people don't get this at all, I'm not a child any more. Yes, I've been victimized. But I am a victim no more. There comes a time when you have to reach deep inside yourself and find your inner adult.
But here's the thing: My inner adult likes comic books.
So, as director, I directed the investment of library funds in the collection of whole bunches of them.
I will say that we've ruined the comics for investment purposes. We slap barcodes, markings, covers, etc. on them to help them stand up to repeated use. That absolutely devalues them for collecting purposes.
But that's not the point. I firmly believe that some of the best writing in the world today -- and some of the finest artwork -- still takes place in the world of comic books.
As I have noted to several concerned parents, when I was just 5 years old, I was the only kid on my block who could spell "invulnerable." That's worth something.
I'll also point out that comics speak to young adults at precisely the moment that they lose interest in libraries. Comics surprise and re-engage them, reconnecting them to a world that combines word and image in a way that is far more demanding, far more literate, than TV or film.
I hasten to assure you that I'm not absolutely corrupt. I work hard to ensure that I add just one day to the distribution of our comics. There are times when I come home with 20 of the latest issues, and, sparing NO personal effort, work through every single one of them in a single night.
My wife has learned that, on those nights, I really can't be called upon to do anything else.
But there it is. I have been given great power, great authority. And I have taken total advantage of it to read the library's comic books first.
As Thor, the Norse God of Thunder (as interpreted by Stan Lee), might put it, "So mote it be."
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