Arrgh, Part I
I walked into the library yesterday (Wednesday morning), about an hour before opening, and before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth:
"Oh my God, they did it all backwards!"
Turns out the children's librarian did go through with her intention to move the YA fiction (hardcovers) over to the new section while I wasn't there on Tuesday night. . . and in total disregard of everything I had wanted. Everything I had discussed with her. Everything she had seemed totally O.K. with.
I wish I had a scanner so I could just draw it, but basically, I had planned to start the "A" authors on the left side and keep going alphabetically to the right, because the right ends with four little shelves crammed right up against the public computer desks, and my desk, and I was hoping little if anything had to go there because it was incredibly inaccessible.
So where did the "A" authors start? All together, now: On the right, crammed against the computers.
I was so angry and frustrated that I cried. Not a big deal, because there were only two other staff members there for opening, but because I had said it out loud, they came over. So I told them. I showed them. First it was the chairs, then it was this B.S. with the fiction, moved against my wishes. My plans, opinions, and wishes count for nothing at all.
They said they were sorry, but at the same time I noticed they didn't seem surprised.
Later the children's librarian came to me--and I think she got wind that I was annoyed--and she had the nerve to admit that she knew that's what I wanted, but she didn't like it so she put it the other way. For someone who makes such a big deal about being able to reach me on my cell, she didn't seem to think it necessary in that case, or in the case of the chairs last weekend. Not even an e-mail.
What have I gotten myself into?
I'm trying to figure out how to talk to the (temporary) director about this, but I think he pretty much lets her do what she wants. She's got a lot of power, and I don't want to get on her bad side. . . but I don't like how I'm being treated. As if I'm not a librarian. As if I'm here to do grunt work.
I'm all for paying my dues (I know, bad librarian joke), but (1) I have studied hard; (2) I did well in my studies; (3) I did an internship of sorts, in two different libraries, under two different librarians--one of them being among the most renowned in the field. And (4) I am neither a child nor an idiot!
When I first got my bachelor's degree, I didn't know where to go or what I wanted to do. I wound up spending nearly two miserable years paying my dues in a law office under the thumbs of two of the biggest S.O.B.'s (you know, the lawyers who give lawyers their bad reputation). I still cringe every time I hear that 2-way phone "beep" because I think they're coming down the hall, and that was nearly ten years ago.
Why am I telling that story? Because it feels the same now. Except that I know where I want to go and what I want to do, very badly. I don't think I'm gonna go two years this time.
"Oh my God, they did it all backwards!"
Turns out the children's librarian did go through with her intention to move the YA fiction (hardcovers) over to the new section while I wasn't there on Tuesday night. . . and in total disregard of everything I had wanted. Everything I had discussed with her. Everything she had seemed totally O.K. with.
I wish I had a scanner so I could just draw it, but basically, I had planned to start the "A" authors on the left side and keep going alphabetically to the right, because the right ends with four little shelves crammed right up against the public computer desks, and my desk, and I was hoping little if anything had to go there because it was incredibly inaccessible.
So where did the "A" authors start? All together, now: On the right, crammed against the computers.
I was so angry and frustrated that I cried. Not a big deal, because there were only two other staff members there for opening, but because I had said it out loud, they came over. So I told them. I showed them. First it was the chairs, then it was this B.S. with the fiction, moved against my wishes. My plans, opinions, and wishes count for nothing at all.
They said they were sorry, but at the same time I noticed they didn't seem surprised.
Later the children's librarian came to me--and I think she got wind that I was annoyed--and she had the nerve to admit that she knew that's what I wanted, but she didn't like it so she put it the other way. For someone who makes such a big deal about being able to reach me on my cell, she didn't seem to think it necessary in that case, or in the case of the chairs last weekend. Not even an e-mail.
What have I gotten myself into?
I'm trying to figure out how to talk to the (temporary) director about this, but I think he pretty much lets her do what she wants. She's got a lot of power, and I don't want to get on her bad side. . . but I don't like how I'm being treated. As if I'm not a librarian. As if I'm here to do grunt work.
I'm all for paying my dues (I know, bad librarian joke), but (1) I have studied hard; (2) I did well in my studies; (3) I did an internship of sorts, in two different libraries, under two different librarians--one of them being among the most renowned in the field. And (4) I am neither a child nor an idiot!
When I first got my bachelor's degree, I didn't know where to go or what I wanted to do. I wound up spending nearly two miserable years paying my dues in a law office under the thumbs of two of the biggest S.O.B.'s (you know, the lawyers who give lawyers their bad reputation). I still cringe every time I hear that 2-way phone "beep" because I think they're coming down the hall, and that was nearly ten years ago.
Why am I telling that story? Because it feels the same now. Except that I know where I want to go and what I want to do, very badly. I don't think I'm gonna go two years this time.
Comments
Amy--that's exactly right. :)