Dear Super-Visors,

Shannon Patterson

Awareness. Communication. Action. Have we lost them? I don't feel we have. They've just been buried by our system-personalities. I am no exception. But what's past is past, and we can't start over unless we BEGIN. Any honest attempt to look at things through fresh eyes should result in clearing away a great deal of dead wood.

Equation with the faculty? I don't intend to shovel my way through that subject. Enough has already been written on it; I'm sure my views are represented elsewhere. Which is exactly the point! All this talk, all this writing, and a dribble of action. If we had acted upon this subject as much as we have written about it, we would be into solving other problems by now.

It is up to you, the library administrators, to give the green light on participatory democracy, because I know from experience that we librarians in the ranks aren't going to get anywhere with our ideas if you aren't willing. Not that I expect all suggestions to be accepted as if they were god-sent. I certainly hope not. But it is de-humanizing and, yes, ego-deflating, to have the majority of one's proposals greeted by the oh-so-familiar attitude: here she comes with another idea. Meddling again. I'm very busy today. I have more important things to do.

Just what are you administering? The present situation is quite paradoxical. You supposedly "administer" the rank-and-file librarians but really know very little about what we actually do, have very little personal contact with us, and hardly seem interested in hearing our ideas. When was the last time you invited a "lowly" librarian into your office for an informal conversation about his/her job and suggestions? I'm not addressing our immediate bosses, or department or section heads. These people are usually working along side us and are more or less available for consultation. I mean you "upstairs" who make library policy and represent us to the campus powers-that-be.

I don't think I would resent our present hierarchical system so much if the channels for communication were really open, but they're not. If librarians knew there was a time when they could take particular suggestions and problems to one of the top administrators and be welcome, information would flow much more freely, much more efficiently, and would be of increased benefit to both parties. I think of the frustrating time when I jotted down a suggestion and sent it directly to the head librarian, only to have him inform me that it should "properly" evolve through all the department and section meetings before he would consider it. I was disappointed, but not so disgusted as later when the suggestion finally reached the level of a public services meeting, where it was squelched because it was too late in the year to act on it! Situations like this destroy staff morale.

When I first came to the library where I am working, I was appalled at the apathy that abounded. I wish now such were really the case. It would be somewhat easier for the staff to become lively and active again if they were only apathetic. But it's worse. I've heard enough stories of bitter frustration to know that the staff is best described as 1) those whose ideas have been buried enough times that they've given up making any major suggestions; 2) those who are still trying and still getting the closed-mind treatment; and 3) those who see the sparks and feel the heat and perhaps quite wisely decide that they are not going to get involved. In all fairness I must mention one other category: 4) those who agree with the administration right down the line and don't see what all this hassling is about.

In this library we have fallen into a petty personality game. Because almost nobody is going anywhere except on a small scale, we are taking it out on each other. I am guilty of this as much as anyone else. Instead of considering an idea or suggestion for what it's worth, we are looking at the person who said it ("considering the source," as one of my friends says) and basing a great deal of our judgment on that. In binding up the idea with the person, we are really practicing discrimination, the more insidious because it is not outright racism, sexism, etc.

I am by no means free of bias when I discuss our state of affairs. Take this into consideration - as I'm sure you will. I don't really know your side of the story either. The lines of communication have been so poor. Have you ever thought that we down here might be interested in what you are doing? If you ever want to sit down and talk this out, I'll be very willing to join you. Just one suggestion, though. Let's meet in the spirit of inquiry.

Under-standing. As Barry Stevens says in Don't Push the River, it makes such a difference when one breaks up a word that way. Sometimes then the original and more exact meaning comes through. Barry's book also has something to say about hierarchical versus organismic systems:

It seems to me, as I watch it, that vertical organization is resorted to as a result of a depletion or absence of communication. If you can't somehow or other have a community movement which is a spontaneous sort of urge which results in something coming about, then the only alternative you have is to build some kind of pyramid and put the toughest guy at the top, or maybe you don't put him there, he just automatically gets there. You have an organization within which there is no communication, there is simply a passing down of orders from the top to the various levels and this is no longer society - this is a machine. Horizontal organization ... is ... the Indian way. A person arises as a leader for a particular thing at a particular time - and moves back when that time is over. Communication is present ... Trust is present, too.
Don't Push the River (It Flows By Itself)
Real People Press, Box F, Moab, Utah 84532. 1970, $3.50