This Trend Called Diversity

THEWORK OF DIVERSITY IN LIBRARIES BEGINS at the crossroad where superiority, inaction, and denial become intolerable. Yet in working toward true diversity, we work without the familiar construct of a mainstream. We respond to, or ignore, repetitive critique of being too exclusive or not inclusive enough. We decide whether it is appropriate to quantify the existence of a people or to trust what we know intuitively. These paradoxes present us with questions that serve as teachable moments or paralyzing hurdles. Once at the crossroads, however, there are systematic strategies and operating principles for bringing significance, meaning, and action to this trend called diversity. INTRODUCTION “Diversity” is a trend that is ever contemporary, historical, and futuristic. It touched our foremothers and forefathers, it touches the seventh generation that follows us, and it touches us now-at this moment. Within the history of the designated borders that is presently called the United States, within the bookshelves, the oral traditions, and the Web sites and links located in the brick and mortar and/or click and point libraries that we work in, we find the stories of “difference.” Our ancestors came by choice to this land, others were forced out of one land and onto another, and yet others who lived here on this land bore witness to someone else’s “discovery” of their life. Perhaps the forefathers and foremothers, perSandra Rios Balderrama, American Library Association, 50 East Huron Street, Chicago, IL 60611-2729 LIBRARY TRENDS, Vol. 49, No. 1,Summer 2000, pp. 194214 02000 The Board of Trustees, University of Illinois BALDERRAMA/THIS TREND CALLED DIVERSITY 195 haps James Byrd, Matthew Shephard, and Won-Joon Yoon watched their own lives “discovered” at the crossroads of dehumanization and survival while experiencing great trauma in the midst of strangers. The deaths and the lives of contemporaries and ancestors connect us. Suddenly the borders dissolve between Texas, Indiana, and Wyoming; between history and the new millennium; between what is “real” and what is online; what is national legislation; and what is “on the streets”; and what occurs inside the library building and outside of it. Here are the borderless crossroads where the connection to self-reflective questions about how one wants to live, how one wants to work, and how one will develop strength enough to take a stand on behalf of these personal and professional choices ruminate. “Diversity” is named and defined in places of great power. It is articulated by one’s own “home talk” at the kitchen table with trusted friends, cousins, and elders. It is articulated by business terminology at executive retreats by designated leaders. “Diversity” is fiery and tame depending on one’s perspective, the context, the issue at hand, and one’s own energy flow for the day. Sometimes the definitions and visualizations are sharp and explicit: racism, white privilege, homophobia, heterosexual privilege, inequity of access, institutional racism, organizational barriers, apologies and reparation, “illegal” aliens, non-English speaking, non-white, non-user, old boys’ network, and old girls’ network. Sometimes the definitions and visualizations are easier on the senses and perhaps more elusive: celebration of difference, internationalism, intellectual diversity, global village, multiculturalism, organizational cultures, pluralism, diversity of work style, and diversity of learning styles. At times the term is simply empty and unfulfilling and has not earned its credibility. Peterson (1999) points to the “trivialization of discrimination, in curricula that present difference as a non-political, ahistorical concept, does not serve to educate for work in a multicultural environment” (p. 23). Welburn (1999), in his comprehensive essay on the debate surrounding the multicultural curriculum and the impact on academic libraries, cites Stanley Fish’s notion of boutique multiculturalism “characterized by its superficial or cosmetic relationship to the objects of its affection” (p. 158).Colleagues and librarians point to “window dressing,” “diversity officer as token,” and a professional value that “is too broad to have significance.” Which of any of these terms is “principally” correct? Where do the meanings land in the traditional hierarchies and trends of acceptable communication and acceptable interpretation? “We may understand, we do not misexperience” (DeLoria, 1991, from a promotional poster). At times we speak “too strongly”-excitedly, forcefully, passionately, angrily-on diversity as it is experienced, and colleagues feel attacked, shut out, and equally angry as they hear and receive what they are supposed to understand. At times we speak “too softly-thoughtfully, 196 LIBRARY TRENDS/SUMMER 2000 inclusively, matter-of-fact-on diversityas we rationalize it, and colleagues feel weary of the “talk” with no faith in action or credibility as they hear and receive the message that they are supposed to understand. Even so, every so often we take a full breath from the integrity of our professional collective soul and we move from process to action with outcomes in sight. We have spent enough time on caution. This time we will take what we have learned and be effective. We take an aspect of diversity-where there is shared significance-one piece, and we create a goal, an initiative, and a plan. We communicate the intent and quickly it is cited as too narrow, too exclusive, too limited, too short, too sullen, too ambiguous, not created by the right people, not implemented by the right people and, thus, energy toward the desired outcome becomes diffused. It must come from the “top.” It must come from the “grassroots.” It must move from being an arm to being institutionalized. It must remain autonomous and non-mainstreamed. At what point does developmental feedback and constructive criticism turn into an elevated art form-one that generates the exclusion of people’s presence and contribution? (O’Neill, 1998,p. 144).Accountability moves from shared to nebulous. Support wanes. Fragmentation occurs. Focus is clouded. Intent is distrusted. Credibility is dissipated. Maybe next time it would be simpler to avoid the topic, the session, the workshop, the initiative, the project, the effort, and the risk. Maybe next time we simply do the work at our own local level-among the generative people we “know” who see, hear, and work as we do. We return to where there is comfort, perhaps less risk, and, from our point of view, more directed action and less “mess.” Why not be selective with one’s time and energy? Why place one’s self in the midst of the tension of balancing public discourse with the private urge to “get it done.” Perhaps silence along with separatist action is a better strategy with consequences that are worth taking, including the betterment of one’s own health. These are reasonable human questions when again, at the crossroads of deciding how we will work, we remember that last week’s multicultural food festival seemed a lot more fun and, quite frankly, much easier than “this.” PROFESSIONAL PRIDE Nevertheless, within our profession, our associations, and in many of our libraries, we claim “diversity” as a value and an operating principle. We responsibly and professionally quantify it with demographics, community-based surveys, customer surveys, user statistics, and percentages of potential access as we apply our technical skill to gather proof and rationale for its existence. The numbers, studies, and data-depending on how we interpret them nationally, regionally, and locally-will indicate and demonstrate the existence of diverse users and the “need” for, and/ BALDERRAMA/THIS TREND CALLED DIVERSITY 197 or potential of, a diverse workforce, diverse collections, and diverse services. We are acutely aware of the connections between proof of “need” and its relationship to the mission statement, to customer service, and to resource allocation even though Hernon and Altman (1998) caution us to be aware that a mission statement comes alive with more than good intentions (numbers can be misleading) and that customers/patrons are the critical decision-makers. We sincerely attempt with our professional skills to collectively gather “around diversity, to corral it with formations of diversity committees, diversity officer positions, and staff development committees. We charge ourselves with constructing meaningful diversitystatements, designating budgets and monies, soliciting input and opinion, studying information-seeking behavior, and targeting services, collections, recruitment, and training. Finally, we apply interpersonal and cross-cultural communication skills. Whether in diversity study circles or dialogue groups described by Simmons-Welburn (1999) as one effective strategy of facing “into” our organizations or when one least expects ite.g., in the break room or across the reference desk-diversity becomes qualitatively enlivened by the personal and the community narrative. The narrative, on some days, rises up from deep within our own personal mineshafts” (Aponte, 1999) of stored history, well-placed emotion-and unfinished business-and it emerges painfully disparate-“mine from yours”-with no possible bridge of respect, let alone understanding, or empathy. Everything clouds. On another day, the narrative deeply interconnects us with its message of what it looks like, feels like, tastes like to have our friend, our family, our elder, our child, our ancestor, ourselves dehumanized. In this case, sometimes for a moment, a clear bridge appears “between you and I.” The clouds disappear and the choices of how to live and how to work become clear, possible, and even sustainable and renewable. RECIPROCATION NOTASSIMILATION Zora Sampson (1999) states the reality of what the work of diversity entails, “to attempt cultural exchange that results in progress, not loss of identity. This participation takes courage. To question oneself and to question others is work. To speak up and try to move others to change is no task for cowards” (p. 107). Any “shoring up,’’ a jolt, a clarity of solidarity encourages us to get “back in the ring” (for some of us it is sometimes referred to as a “battle” or a “war”). We proceed to juggle and struggle with the multidimensionality, simultaneity, the definitions, the parallel tracks, the numerous “fronts,” the legislation, our own professional principles of intellectual freedom and equity of access, and the dance of how we and others interpret privilege, power, exclusivity, and inclusivity. Energized, we strive to learn what effective leadership looks like, what collaboration and partnership with 198 LIBRARY TRENDS/SUMMER 2000 like and unlike allies is like, what a work environment conducive to diversity looks like, and what quality and effective services look like. We learn and re-learn behavior and skills that will demonstrate respect, stewardship, and acceptance of what we don’t fully understand. The time and resources involved in learning and relearning new people skills compete with the time and resources required for ongoing technological training. Many librarians, library workers, library administrators, and library support staff “keep at it,” and they choose not to avoid the risk, ambiguities, and tension, nor do they avoid the expenditure of their time because diversity requires ongoing learning-continual education-not learned in one swoop, with one handbook, with one set of guidelines. Essentially we arrive (again at the crossroads) and ask ourselves: How do we put into practice this value called diversity? This value suggests that, for a library system to be effective, we as librarians must allow for, encourage, and invite people that are unlike ourselves. Is it a better “business” decision? Is our profession “enlightened?” If we can’t be enlightened, can we at least be selfish? (Gardner, 1996). Do we want more completely designed services, programs, and collections? Are we bored or dissatisfied with and diminished by homogeneity? Do we want to mirror the latest demographics? We must be able to articulate why we in our profession would want someone distinct from us to work with us, not for us. To work alongside us, not beneath us. To create with us, not duplicate us. To reciprocate with us, not assimilate to us. To mentor us, not intimidate us. To be an equal, not a box in the organizational hierarchy. To be a colleague. Susan Kotarba (1998) uniquely expresses what it means to work “alongside” her potential peers: “I have met the librarians of the future that I want to be working with and they are the high school students from diverse backgrounds that I work with currently” (remarks from a panel discussion). OPENING FROM WITHIN THE LIBRARY Some library organizations are attempting to implement various stages and levels of organizational transformation. Robert Quinn (1996) indicates the “many ways in which bureaucratic culture proves to be a barrier to change, including multiple layers of hierarchy, a tradition of topdown change, shortterm thinking, lack of topmanagement support for change, limited rewards, lack of vision, and an emphasis on the status quo” (p. 134). Municipalities, universities, libraries, departments and, if necessary, “one’s own work unit,” have moved to flatten out hierarchies without losing accountability and to increase participation without being threatened by a truly free-flow of information, risk-taking, and creativity throughout the organization. Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner Rogers (1996) observe: In fear-filled organizations, impervious structures keep materializing. People are considered dangerous. They need to be held apart BALDERRAMA/THIS TREND CALLED DIVERSITY 199 from one another. However, in systems of trust, people are free to create the relationships they need. Trust enables the system to open. The system expands to include those it excluded. More conversations-more diverse and diverging views-become important. People decide to work with those from whom they had been separate. (p.