Interview with Katrina Spencer, Librarian for African American and African Studies at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville
Our contributing staff editor Jessica Tingling interviewed Katrina Spencer about her position and work in libraries.
Tell us about your new role.
I’m the first Librarian for African American and African Studies at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville (UVA). The students, faculty, and both interdisciplinary and visiting researchers need proper research support and representation within the library to advocate for their needs and the collection, and that’s where I come in.
How have you been able to make a difference thus far?
Before the Fall 2020 semester and all its uncertainties were well underway, I provided virtual library orientations to students and faculty for navigating the library in consideration of new restrictions surrounding COVID-19; with the consistent support of a faculty member, we have shaped a Swahili studies guide; and I am shaping a project to assess research needs surrounding African Studies with the hopes of nominating at least one subscription to a discipline-specific database, if not a few. I also started a reading group with the aim of better familiarizing library staff with the concept of disability and its many manifestations so we might engender a conversation about accommodations and support.
What are the challenges?
Many people on the library staff are working from home so relationship building for a new employee like myself is slow and less intimate than in-person. Moreover, the distance is also an impediment to intimately getting to know the collections for which I am a steward. Even checking out library materials requires an unique trip to campus, parking fees, and a masked visit indoors after swiping my ID card to get into the libraries.
What are you looking forward to?
May I first say that the pandemic has taken a lot of pressure off me with regard to feeling the need to be extraordinarily productive all the time? I suspect that many Black women within and outside of this profession feel that pressure: to produce, to shine, to revolutionize, to lead, to right what’s wrong, etc. The pandemic has allowed me to be responsive without aspiring to outdo myself on a daily basis. In some ways, it has been a relief.
Moreover, I’ll be honest: it’s hard to envision life beyond the pandemic. At the time of this writing, we still need to identify a demonstrably safe and scientifically viable vaccine, distribute doses throughout the nation (if not the world), and persuade people to take it. So forgive me if I’m challenged to think beyond those very real milestones we must reach.
But if pressed, I look forward to…
collaborating with colleagues to bring an interdisciplinary guest speaker to the library who will educate the community further about the Black diaspora.
selecting a database to subscribe to that represents African Studies and local researchers’ needs
engaging in conversation surrounding our academic library’s leisure-reading collection and the usefulness of an audiobook platform
I look forward to not only being useful but feeling useful.
How do you remain motivated professionally?
Again, during the coronavirus era, this is challenging. Connecting with other Black Studies librarians across the nation, however, has been encouraging. Heather Martin of Duke University (North Carolina), Esmeralda Kale at Northwestern (Illinois), and Tahirah Akbar-Williams at the University of Maryland have all been supporters in my transition to Virginia and have cheered me on as I get my bearings. They introduce me to thematic opportunities and networks and listen to my ideas about novel initiatives I want to pursue. Leaning on them has been a comfort. If you’re reading this, thank you for being colleagues and sisters. ;)
How do you identify professional development opportunities?
There’s quite a variety of ways but I’d say that professional development opportunities often identify me. More often, I am browsing posts in we here, a group for librarians of color, or expressing interest in people at a conference and I learn about something new through word of mouth and by remaining dispositionally open to novelty. For example,
I learned about the Journal of New Librarianship through browsing posts in we here and published “Outreach librarian to black students: A de facto role” in it.
I pitched the article “The Critic: Reflections on Readers’ Advisory” to ALA’s Office of Diversity, Literacy and Outreach Services blog after making a connection at ACRL.
At that same conference, I met Lorin Jackson-Booker of Swarthmore (Pennsylvania) and learned about this platform, WOC + lib.
Moreover, successful collaborations in the past can reap rewards in the future.
I’ll add two thoughts: First, librarians in general are people who share. We believe in the proliferation of and access to information. So, remaining connected and in network allows us to maintain an interactive current of knowledge and to inform each other regarding novelties. Second, I don’t say yes to everything. If I did, I’d corrupt the balance of peace in my life I try to maintain and pursue. But I do keep my ears and eyes open. One thing I learned to name during the Minnesota Institute was “buffering,” a concept that allows and encourages one to name her terms of engagement with a project. (Thank you, Kathleen Krueger.) When an opportunity comes up, I determine what deadlines will be fitting for me and the scope of my contribution. Afterwards I can propose engagement. It’s an approach and strategy I highly recommend.
How has something unexpected expanded your knowledge and understanding of your field?
I spent 13 years in college and one thing you learn to do there is to ask critical questions. You don’t necessarily learn to answer them easily, but you do learn to pose them. Here are a few that have come up over the course of my career:
Is it worth it to work a job where the pay is high but the cultural isolation is severe?
Who does the “never give up” ideology serve? Can quitting be a succor? See Lesley Lokko’s resignation letter.
Why are we willingly engaging in and perpetuating a paradigm of unpaid labor in our professional organizations? Why though? Have you thought about Fobazi Ettarh’s article on vocational awe?
Does the tenure model serve you? Was it designed to? Do you need it to carry out excellent work?
What is more highly valued in this field: likability and obedience or effectiveness and independent thought?
What are the rewards of leadership and what are the costs?
Is your primary source of employment your only source of income? Why?
What would be your advice to an early career librarian?
You need practical experience within a library before hitting the job market so that you have compelling stories to tell about yourself and your work. I use the linked prompts before every job interview to shape my narrative(s). I have also written two pieces through Hack Library School in an attempt to shed light on what happens once you’re invited for an on campus interview within academic librarianship: Things You Learn On Your First Interview and Behind the Scenes: LIS Hiring at Academic Institutions.
Any last thoughts?
Remembering that this platform stands for Women of Color + Libraries, I want to acknowledge an insidious burden of labor that seems to follow hires who are Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) within and outside of our field. There is virtually no end to all that can be done to make libraries more just, fair, equitable, accessible, welcoming, inclusive, et al. The work, while extraordinarily impactful, is draining and can lead to burnout. We have to pace ourselves and expect more from our colleagues. Administrators, you, too, can initiate programs designed to make libraries warmer, more welcoming, and more equitable spaces. White colleagues, dare to try something new in the way of EDI in close consultation with representatives of the communities you serve. If we want to retain BIPOC in our field-- and we say that we do-- we must share the weight of confronting injustice and inequity together. Black women cannot be the go-to saviors forever on the front line.