A few months ago in Utah, I presented on “The Cross-Generational Library Workforce” to a lovely group of librarians at the annual ULA conference. (As an aside, it’s really very cool to visit different states’ conferences and see the dedication that goes into putting these events together!) Out of curiosity, I started looking around at the proceedings and schedules from other recent library conferences, and found that many of them had one or more programs addressing topics like the multigenerational library workplace, next generation librarians, and how libraries can reach out to Millennials. Generational issues appear to be on the minds of librarians everywhere.
What’s interesting is that, despite the hype, a lot of us view generational issues as completely irrelevant — if not downright insulting. I think part of the problem here is the tendency of generational commentators to speak in grand sweeping absolutes, but that it makes more sense to work from two simple premises:
1) Our generation in one way or another affects our outlook and expectations
2) Our generation in one way or another affects the way others view us
1) Our generation in one way or another affects our outlook and expectations
My preschooler embodies many of the reasons I believe that generational issues are important to think about. Getting ready for a garage sale recently, I pulled out an old box of cassette tapes (and priced them at $.25/each — not a great ROI on those!). My son asks: “What are those?” So, I explain they play music, dig up a cassette player to show him, and he wants to hear a song again. So, I start rewinding. He’s totally baffled. “Just play it now, mom!”
I can’t help but think that a childhood of instant gratification is going to affect his expectations and behavior. He doesn’t know that TV shows have schedules. He doesn’t know that you used to have to wait to develop photos. He doesn’t know that popcorn didn’t always come out of a microwavable bag and that most toys didn’t use to have batteries and buttons.
I have a brother who is much younger than I am. He rarely uses the phone. He rarely uses e-mail. He communicates extensively through MySpace, and expects that we keep up with him that way. I spend a couple hours each day in IM. I find myself losing contact with people who don’t use e-mail.
Note that I didn’t say that our generation defines our outlook and expectations. None of us grows up in a bubble, though; we’re each exposed to the culture and events and technology and general zeitgeist of our times. Sure, data isn’t the plural of anecdote, but how we grow up can’t help but affect us.
2) Our generation in one way or another affects the way others view us
I’ve been in on interviews where my co-questioners made blatant assumptions about someone’s level of technological expertise based solely on the apparent age of the person being interviewed. I originally became a systems librarian partially because of an institutional assumption that, as a young, recent grad, I was inherently more familiar with technology.
When I surveyed people for The NextGen Librarian’s Survival Guide, I got some amazing comments, ranging from: “Boomers need to retire already and let us get on with it; they’re too stuck in their ways and can’t deal with change” to “Younger librarians have no work ethic and no understanding of librarianship; all they can do is push buttons and they’re lost when the network goes down.”
Yes, counterproductive. Yet it behooves us to be aware of the stereotyped views others may have of us based solely on our chronological age or generation: we can’t combat what we’re unaware of.
If anything comes out of this outpouring of generational programs and presentations, I hope it’s an awareness of our underlying assumptions and of the necessity to combine our diverse skills, strengths, and generations to work together productively in a 21st century library.