New Research Guides Went Live!

This is probably only really exciting for me, but I’m SO EXCITED, so I thought I’d share. Those libguides we were working on over the last few months? Well, they went live today with the start of classes. I give you … [insert drum roll here] … Gould Guides!

Now, as with any transition, some things still need some work (by which I mean nearly all of our “general” guides, which will get updated as time allows, and certainly before Winter term), but the meat of it is done. And making the transition gave us all a wonderful oportunity to think carefully about the purpose of our guides, redesign most of them, spark renewed interest with our faculty, and talk amongst ourselves about each of our tips and tricks for making research guides as useful as possible.

As soon as our MetaLib upgrade happens, we’ll also start peppering these guides with highly customized search boxes… but doing that before the upgrade will just be an exercise in frustration, so we’re holding off. That’s another whole story and set of headaches…

But for now, the message is: Yay! GouldGuides!!! So excited!!!!!

New Trading Cards!

We decided to change things up again. For years there were baseball trading cards, then for a couple of years there were anime trading cards, the last two years were classic comic book covers, and now… LP album covers!

Here’s mine:

And here are the rest of the gang’s.

And So They Burned It

As I drove in to work this evening the familiar voice of a piano professor here spilled out of the car speakers that generally only bring me voices of people like Steve Inskeep, Michele Norris, Scott Simon and the other body-less NPR friends that follow me through my days. She was explaining that Annea Lockwood composed an avant-garde piece in which a piano is burned. It’s called “Piano Burning” (which strikes me as a not very avant-garde name for such a piece), and tonight they’re performing it on campus.

Arriving on campus, there was the dilapidated piano standing alone in the middle of the Bald Spot, waiting to be burned.


Pianos I’ve known have always lived in warm, homey spaces, or stood in state on a stage. They’ve always felt like they calmly conceal the potential to thrill you tomorrow or next year or when your grandchildren come to visit. They’ve always promised great things for the people who can touch them with care and skill, and for the people those artists know.

This piano, though, is just sitting in the middle of its rectangle of cleared earth in the middle of a wide, blank field, hunched under the gathering clouds, and waiting to be burned. I’ve never seen such a starkly alone piano.

And then they burned it.

Reading Sophomore Portfolios

This morning was the first of three that I’ll spend sitting in a room with 35 or so faculty members reading portfolio after portfolio.* Or rather, the faculty read through portfolio after portfolio while I gave up on ever reading that quickly and just got through as many as I could. And now my legs are sore from being tense all morning…. nerves and all. It’s rather intimidating to join a group of faculty and participate as a novice in an activity they do all the time, and to know that every portfolio you read will be read again by one of them, and to wonder how you can possibly say something constructive to a student in a couple of sentences especially when you’re struggling to come up with a cohesive sense of why you think they should pass or not, and to sit there wishing you’d brought a dictionary because spelling just isn’t your thing and there’s no spell-check built into these pens and sheets of paper and you’re critiquing writing, for goodness sake, so the students are likely to be really ticked off if the person evaluating their writing can’t even spell…

And so, my legs are sore.

So why did I volunteer for this? I mean, I’d done it once before. I knew I’d sit there with pen poised over the blue evaluation form and dread having to write to the student who’s academic career will be shaped in some small part by what I write. I knew I’d read at half the speed of my fellow portfolio readers. I knew all these things, but I also knew that if I chickened out, I’d kick myself. This is, after all, one of the only times I get to see the results of the work I do with students. Even more than that, it’s one of the only ways I’d ever get to read enough of my students’ work to get a sense of the patterns of successes and failures in underclassmen’s writing, use of outside sources, and argument structure. It’s also a rare opportunity to learn about faculty standards as they’re applying those standards. And you know, it’s a beautiful thing to watch experts glance over a random sample of writing and pull out patterns of writing indicative of the student’s writing ability over all.

So, as we all sat there norming our reading by evaluating some sample portfolios as a group, I also began the process of recalibrating my expectations for student work at the Sophomore level and listening for clues about what might be expected at the Junior level. For example, I learned again what a difficult project it is for college students to learn what a conclusion really is in a paper, and how to manage it effectively. I saw students learning to negotiate tone and voice and just how, exactly, to manage other people’s words in with your own.

And so I’ll be going back tomorrow and the next day as we plow through another 400 or so portfolios together. I’m not looking forward to the aching legs by the end of the week, but I am looking forward to coming through the experience with a better sense of what students can do by their second year in college. As I said to one of my co-workers, I hate reading the portfolios, but once I’m finished I love having done it.

* More info on the portfolio.

ACRL Award


ACRL Award
Originally uploaded by Pegasus Librarian.

On Friday we had the great honor of receiving the ACRL Excellence in Libraries Award in the College Library division. Our college president, while introducing the award to those present at the Honors Convocation spoke about the importance of collaboration and of intellectual curiosity on a college campus, and of how he sees these twin values in evidence in the library and across campus. And looking around at all the students, faculty, and staff, at all the representatives of various academic and computer support teams, and at the supervisor of the students who do all our public computing support in the library, I realized again how lucky I am to work in this place. I realized yet again that the whole truly is greater than the sum of its parts here, because no one of us alone could have done anything approaching award-worthy work. And I realized for the millionth time what an amazing experience it has been for me to work here as I learn to be a librarian in the midst of this type of community.

So what will we do with the award money? Well, people nominated ideas and we all voted, and kudos to whomever came up with this idea: we’re donating it to Katrina-damaged Dillard University’s library.