When people ask me what I do, I sometimes call myself a “tech librarian by default.” Between me and one other library associate (coincidentally also responsible for teen programming — let’s call her Adele), we usually get to do the initial troubleshooting when a printer won’t print, or a self-check won’t scan, or a web site won’t work the way that it’s supposed to. Our Technology Services staff seem to appreciate this — having someone at the branch who can troubleshoot problems rather intuitively takes some weight off their shoulders and often saves them a trip to our end of the county.
It was only recently that I started enjoying this role. I used to resent the fact that I would get called on when a customer needed help with Google Docs or with opening an email attachment. But my time in Library Land has been quite eye-opening, especially considering how often I encounter people who have never used a word processor or never had an email address. I’ve finally realized that it was condescending of me to assume that some questions have obvious answers — just because it’s obvious to me doesn’t mean that it’s obvious to everyone.
I don’t have any official position or title, but I’ve started taking a more proactive approach to technology at the branch level. I still experience some frustration when a machine or a program won’t do what I want it to do — but I’ve gotten better, and I’ve made a point of letting my coworkers know that I welcome whatever questions they have.
I’ve also made a point of encouraging new staff (and old staff with new programs) to “play” with the software, adding that “there’s no way you can break it.” This works especially well with databases and web resources, but it also works well with office suites and catalog software. As an example, we just recently started using Paint.NET at Adele’s recommendation. Once we got the OK from one of Tech Services staff, we installed Paint.NET on several of our work computers, and I and another coworker played with it for about a solid hour. About every minute or so, there was an “ooh,” “ah,” or “wow” in response to the things we were capable of doing.
It’s important to give ourselves time to experiment with the tools that we use. If the opportunity to “play” can provide us with this kind of insight, then it is worthwhile, constructive, and certainly worthy of encouragement.
On a related note, please also see the Wired Magazine article “Public Library Geeks Take Web 2.0 to the Stacks” (including some thoughts from Michael Casey of the Gwinnett County Public Library) and the Learning 2.0 program (developed by Helene Blowers of the Public Library of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County).