I interact with a lot of people in my everyday life. I have my current full-time position, a temporary gig, a volunteer job, and I serve on a professional board.
I am so tired of people not knowing how to argue. Now, when I bring up a point or a suggestion in a meeting, I do my best to know the pros and cons of my position. I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time. What I hope for is discussion; I’m not so stubborn as to think that I know everything. I only have my own perspectives, after all.
When I don’t like something, I’ll formulate why and let the other person respond. Maybe they’ve thought of something I hadn’t considered! What I get tired of is stonewalling. When I suggest something and all someone can say is “NO I DON’T LIKE THAT” and they can’t tell me why (or don’t say something like, “I’m not sure; can I think about it?”), it’s infuriating to me. Or when someone asks a question and the other person responds “THIS IS THE WAY IT IS AND HOW IT’S GOING TO BE,” it makes me want to scream into a pillow. It feels disrespectful and childish.
And it’s been happening more and more often in meetings I attend. Not just to me of course, but to others. When did we lose the ability to debate a point or treat people like adults? Why shut down discussion before it starts?
So my question is twofold, readers:
How do I keep my cool when someone is stonewalling me?
How do you handle people like that? Any ideas for me to use?
The Starman Omnibus Vol. 1 – I heard that this was a series not to be missed so I decided to pick it up when I was at the library. Boy, were they right! From the first pages of the opening comic, it’s obvious that what James Robinson is doing is telling an epic through several different characters as stories, always aiming for something bigger. With appearances by the different eras of superheroes and other Starmans (Starmen?), it creates a world that not only conceivably realistic (as far as a comic with a cosmic rod can be realistic), but more importantly, believable. This is a tale for those who want to think, who aren’t always interested in the flash-bang world that some comics present. This is a comic for those who are interested in a hero who is good because he is a nice person. I cannot wait for the second volume. Everyone should read this now.
DC Universe: The Stories of Alan Moore – A great assortment of Alan Moore’s work, including “The Killing Joke,” “For The Man Who Has Everything,” and “Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?”. Looking at this collection, it’s easier to see where some his later works would spring from and maybe why he left DC (in my opinion, Moore appears to want to tell his darkly-tinged stories the way he wants to tell them, and playing with other people’s established characters does not allow full control). Pick it up for some food for thought.
Soccernomics – Soccernomics does the near impossible: it makes economics and statistics interesting to the common soccer fan, and does it without dumbing down the material. Written by Simon Kuper and Stefan Szymanski, this book explains the beautiful game with beautiful numbers. Why doesn’t England win? Is Brazil an anomaly? Do more people kill themselves after a terrible match? All these questions and more are answered in this text. More than Freakonomics for the sports set, this is an eloquent study of mathematics on the soccer pitch. I’d definitely recommend it to any soccer fan who wants to understand the mental workings of the game or any stats fan with an interest in soccer.
The Toledo War: The First Michigan-Ohio Rivalry – There has always been competition between Michigan and Ohio. While in the present day it consists of Wolverines vs. Buckeyes trash talk and a lot of derogatory remarks, the 1830s were a bit more exciting. How? WAR. In 1835, both Ohio and Michigan felt that they had a claim to the Toledo Strip due to the Mitchell map used to create the Northwest Ordinance of 1787. Don Faber does an admirable job of explaining the intricacies of the Toledo War, presenting the buildup towards the war and both sides’ arguments (legal or otherwise) in a coherent, non-partisan manner. Coupled with an epilogue, a timeline of events, and peppered with fun facts throughout (for example, why Michigan residents are referred to as wolverines, when there aren’t any in the state) this slim volume is a valuable book for anyone interested in antebellum America.
Baseball Fever: Early Baseball in Michigan– Peter Morris does a brilliant job of describing the very early days of baseball in Michigan. Beginning with the foundations of baseball in New York, we quickly slide over to theGreat Lakes State and the multitude of clubs that were created from the late 1850s to the mid 1870s. Some noteworthy gems include the Unknowns of Jackson, the Chief Club of Tecumseh, the Hungry Nine of Birmingham, and more Peninsulars and Wolverines than you could ever imagine. Baseball may have waxed and waned in 19th century Michigan, but it was never forgotten. Well-written and easily read, this book is great for every baseball aficionado.
On the 21st, the husband and I hosted a President’s Day party for a few friends. President-themed snacks like peanuts and jelly beans were out for eating, we wore name tags with our favorite president’s name on them, we played trivia and card games…it was a good time!
Anyway, I mention it because the next day, one of the attendees sent a couple of articles ranking the presidents in order of hotness. I think we can all agree that we’ve had some really attractive presidents (Franklin Pierce, Teddy Roosevelt, Kennedy [ I guess; he’s not really my type but I get the appeal]) but some of the choices on these list left me confused. For argument purposes, I’m going with what they looked like in office; I know that Reagan was a movie star and Ford was a model, but they weren’t doing that when they were president. Come at me, dissenters!
I was unaware this was a site. This concept is GLORIOUS.
Breaking down the list, I don’t see anything worth quibbling over until No. 13: Andrew Jackson. You’re going to SERIOUSLY tell me that Jackson is hotter than thirty other presidents (I know we’ve had forty-four presidencies, but there’s only been forty-three presidents)? LOOK AT HIM:
Andrew Jackson, 7th president and a real jerk. – Image from Archives.com
That is not an attractive man. A violent, swashbuckling man, yes. A supremely widow-peaked man, yes. Hottie with a body? NOPE.
Next on the list after Jackson is…Reagan. Apparently Ronald Reagan (No. 14) is hotter than Bill Clinton (No. 16).
No, Ronnie. Don’t even try to convince yourself. – Image from Wikimedia.org
Scrolling further down the list, we’ve got Nixon at 24 (whut), John Quincy Adams at 31 (NOT HOT), and Gerald Ford at 36 (Ford is not that ugly. Boring, but not ugly). The final president is John Adams which…eh, I don’t think he’s the ugliest, but he’s definitely down there.
Nixon as eye candy. – Image from Discourse in C# Minor
For sheer format’s sake, I like this list better; it starts from the bottom of the list and makes you scroll to the top. ANTICI…(wait for it)…PATION.
Between the two lists, there’s a pretty large difference very early in the rankings. For example, Buzzfeed ranks Clinton at No. 36, a twenty spot difference from Hottest Heads (seriously, I know he’s not a dreamboat, but we’ve had a TON of ugly presidents; also, maybe I’m ranking him too high). It’s the same thing with Dubya: No. 30 on Buzzfeed, No. 10 on Hottest Head (I think he’s somewhere between those two numbers; he’s not a 10, but he’s hotter than a 30). The largest difference I spotted was their treatment of Lincoln. While he slides in at No. 8 (too hot) on Buzzfeed, he’s ranked No. 38 on Hottest Head (hot damn).
There’s also some pretty close agreement: McKinley is No. 29 on Buzzfeed’s scale and No. 30 on Hottest Heads, Andrew Jackson is No. 9 (seriously, WTH?) on Buzzfeed and as previously noted, No. 13 on Hottest Heads, and Teddy Roosevelt is No. 7 on Buzzfeed and No. 5 on Hottest Heads. He is also No. 1 in my presidential heart.
We’ll always have the Bull Moose, Teddy.
That being said, who did the list writers choose for No. 1, if they didn’t pick Teddy (a travesty)? While Hottest Heads went conventional and rocked Franklin Pierce’s world, Buzzfeed chose…Ulysses S. Grant. That’s right; Unconditional Surrender wants you to surrender your heart to him…unconditionally. (This went better in my head.)
I guess it goes to show that while we can’t agree on who’s the hottest, we CAN all agree that the Adams family had unattractive men. (That’s the moral I’m taking away.)
Comparison of the Hottest Heads of State List, Buzzfeed’s
List (I’ve noted when there’s a 5+ spot difference between the two rankings),
and MY LIST!
I feel like every time I write a new blog entry, I promise I’m going to post more. I always mean to, but then time gets away from me and the next thing I know, it’s been almost another year and I’ve written nothing.
Anyway, this is another catch-up post in which I discuss my projects and what I’m up to.
1) I’m volunteering at the Ella Sharp Museum about once a month on Saturdays. It’s been a fun experience; the staff and other volunteers are very friendly and it’s a pleasure to help out somewhere and feel appreciated. For the most part, I’m copy cataloging into PastPerfect, but there was one weekend that I read letters from American war veterans (spanning the Civil War to WWII) and scanned them for potential use in an exhibit. The most interesting thing has been learning Nomenclature 3.0, which is a standard cataloging tool for museums. Being strictly an archives lady before this, I’d never had an opportunity to use it before. I sort of feel like I’m Jackson Pollacking the records as I choose what classifications to catalog the museum objects (LET ME THROW ALL THE APPLICABLE WORDS AT THE RECORD! BRILLIANT!) but I’m getting a better grasp on proper usage the more I use it. Incidentally, I’m also learning that I don’t know what objects are actually called. (“Metal thingy for a sewing machine” is not an acceptable cataloging term, fyi.)
2) As self-proclaimed family archivist for both of my parents, I’ve been diving into the history of my family tree. I’ll spare you the interesting things I’ve found about both sides (that’s another series of nerdy blog posts, I suppose) and get to the reason I’m telling you about this. Over Thanksgiving, my dad gave me a box of photos from his parents from the 1930s – 1950s (and one late 1870s/early 1880s tintype) and asked me to organize and scan them so we could give copies to family members that wanted the images. As I am wont to do, I’ve decided to make the process more complicated than it should be and I’m making a digital exhibit out of the whole thing. My thought is this: sure, we can send CDs of the scanned images to family members (and I will), but there’s got to be a more efficient way of displaying the photos and the information written on the backs of most of them. Furthermore, since I’m rehousing and cataloging them for my own personal archives (finding aid and all), I think it would be easier to have that information accessible in another place. Finally, it’s good experience for me to have, since my current job doesn’t have any opportunities for this sort of work. After investigating several programs to use, I’ve settled on Omeka due to the amount of documentation out there and the active open source community. The next step is to find a hosting service; I’m leaning toward Reclaim Housing due to affordability and it’s one-step Omeka install. As I work on this, I’ll put up blog posts detailing my adventures. However, this is going to be slow-going because…
3) I’m going back to school. In undergrad, I majored in History and Sociology because I loved those subjects. I didn’t want to teach (it’s a wonderful career; I just didn’t feel that calling), but I wanted to share the cool stories and contribute to the narrative. I got my MSI and became an archivist to do that, but because of the job market and my own mistakes (I do some stupid things, folks)…well, let’s just say that the professional archivist door is SLOWLY closing (library schools churning out younger and cheaper competition is also an issue). In addition, the field is becoming more and more technology-driven (duh) and my tech skills are woefully weak. A liberal arts/social science background will do that to you. I’ve been strengthening them using things like Codecademy, but I thought it was time to take it to the next level. I applied for the online Masters of Science in Computer Science program at Georgia Tech and I’m delighted to say that I was accepted. I’ve started classes this week and if all goes well, I should have another degree in four years (that’ll bring the total count of useless placemats I’ve earned to four, for those counting at home). I’m hoping this offers me more flexibility with what I can do and keeps me employable for years to come. I’ll be blogging on the things I learn as well.
4) I’m also a Member-at-Large on the Michigan Archival Association board and the new assistant editor for our newsletter, Open Entry, but blah, blah, blah, professional organization stuff. Oh, and I’m training for a half-marathon.
In other words, I’m overextended again, just like I like it. Time to grind.
And I can’t promise that I’ll post more frequently. Okay, I can at least promise not to make it two years between each post.
Time to catch up!
In the past two years:
1) I ended my archives consulting job in Jackson, TN – This ended in June 2012; I moved back to Michigan to be with my fiance (now my husband). My consulting job was a FABULOUS experience and I enjoyed helping set up an archives from the bottom up. I’ll go into the exact experience at some point in the future.
2) I found a new job in August 2012 at an electronic database and microfilm publisher. My position currently deals with receiving and aggregating content.
3) I spoke at the Midwest Archives Conference in April 2013 on (what else?) finding a job in the archival field. Specifically, I discussed cover letter and resume writing.
4) In June 2013, I got married and later that week, spoke at the Michigan Archival Association annual meeting on MOOCs and other open-source online resources that are of use to archivists. (The benefit of marrying another archivist is that we attend the same conferences and that he’s very understanding of what I do. Love you, dear!)
This year has also promised to be busy: I’m about to start volunteering at a local museum, chairing a session at the Michigan Archival Association annual meeting, beginning coursework in the fall at a community college to refresh my computer skills, and hammering out details for a guest lecture at my undergrad in early 2015.
It’s always exciting times for the Journeyman Archivist; let’s hope it continues for as long as my sleep schedule allows!
Warning: I rant and ramble a bit in this one. It should have probably been two different blogs.
Is it just me or has archives-flavored news reporting finally figured out what gamers have known for years now? IF THE MEDIA IS TOO OLD, YOU CAN’T USE IT.
Good grief. When I was five, I played games on my parents’ computer using 3.5 inch floppy disks (remember those?). There is no way I could conceivably play them in their original format for two reasons: A) my current computer does not have a floppy disk reader and B) floppy disks have an average lifespan of less than ten years. There’s all kinds of quibbles that could be brought up from that sentence alone and I’ll address them in a minute, but right now let’s all take a deep breath and agree: the digital house has been burning for the past 40 years AT THE VERY LEAST and it’s a bit late to try and save all the furniture.
Feel better?
Now, let’s talk about what I said earlier:
1) “…in their original format…” A file format that is over twenty years old serves a reminder of the software wastelands of the personal computer’s youth. Software programs today are descended from years of code and betas and while sharing some similarities as their predecessors, they are not the same thing (they’re sort of like people in that regard). It’s nutty to assume you could open up a Word 1.0 file in Word 7 and assume that it could be read perfectly OR that it could be read at all.
Don’t worry people; there are options.
For years now, gamers playing around with old games have been either desperately maintaining their Commodore 64 or finding/creating emulators. I’ll address the maintenance of old hardware in my next point; right now, let’s look at emulation. Software such as DOSBox, Fusion (for the Sega Genesis), or Stella (Atari 2600, anyone?) have been making games that were thought to be lost accessible again on the PC. The big issue for this (and emulation in general) is that it’s not really the GAME. Emulation is exactly that; it’s not the real thing, just a very, very good copy. In short, it forces people to make the choice of what’s important to them: an accurate/exact game experience that may not be repeatable at a later date (old hardware) or an accessible copy that only captures the essence of the game.
Archivists have been making this decisions in this vein for years now. When we copy a 19th century letter to give to a patron or when we scan a photograph or a map to put online, we’re telling our users: the information is what’s important, not the exact medium. Oh, you can claim different reasons for doing it: “the original’s too delicate to be handled” or “we want to have our holdings accessible to the public” but you’re doing it nonetheless. Emulation is not a foreign concept; it’s just a tool archivists have already used to get at the essence of something.
Why not then look at emulation options for the data that we’re storing? I understand the issues of data migration (the big thorn in this suggestion’s lion’s paw) but keeping things stored on failing storage media does no one any good. We’re already making these decisions for our analog materials, why not our digital?
2) “My current computer does not have a floppy disk reader.” This can be remedied very easily by either buying a floppy disk reader with a USB port or doing what my previous employer did and maintaining a “computer graveyard.” I have my own qualms about such a graveyard. Why? HARDWARE AGES AND SO DO PEOPLE. Keeping technology functioning long after its expiration date is very expensive since it becomes increasingly harder to find the parts needed to keep it running and the specialized knowledge to run/fix the older tech. For reference, I’m in my mid 20s. The earliest gaming system that I used was the Commodore 64 (which had been around for a bit before I was born). I have never used an HP-85 or a Commodore VIC-20 and honestly wouldn’t know where to start. My sister is a very smart teenager; I am, however, confident that she wouldn’t know how to prompt DOS to save her life. Running that sort of tech is no longer common knowledge and we can no longer assume that it is. Why maintain a computer graveyard at all, then?
The accuracy/essence issue.
There are times that patrons will need the original deal. One example I can think of from grad school was a certain batch of letters from the 18th century sprinkled with vinegar. Why vinegar? Because the writer was corresponding from a plague-infested area and the vinegar was viewed as a disinfectant at that time. If the patron had been given copies of the letters, he would have gotten the words, but not the whole story. Sometimes people will need to look at the exact file in order to understand the margins or the formatting of a file. This is why we maintain old technology instead of emulation. It’s important for archivists to provide the option of accuracy whenever we can. We can’t presume a patron’s motivations for using our holdings.
(Keeping with my gamer references, this is why there are computer and video game archives popping up in the US. Sometimes immersion is all that will capture your game of choice.)
3) “…average lifespan of less than ten years.” Lifespans are no more than guidelines at best. CDs have an average lifespan of about 10 years dependent on use, type, and conditions.However, I have a hard time expecting a CD-R from 1996 to open without issues, especially if it was used for audio, due to the age of the media and the expected amount of use. For example: assuming audio CD-R rotation use once a week for six months, once a month for 4.5 years, and once every six months since then, we get a number of about 75 uses. If it’s traveled in a car, it’s been exposed to extreme temperatures. Has it been stored in a sleeve or a box? Has it been dropped? You get the point. Hard drives fail, and often without warning. Computers crash. Even the most carefully stored/preserved object, analog or digital, will eventually need conservation.
Gamers handle these issues by storing their physical copies of games carefully, slipping covers on game discs, giving systems a rest, storing save files on memory cards, making backups etc. The archives field is prepared for this as well: we have needs-based assessments of our holdings, we hire conservators, we create copies, we have disaster plans…the list goes on. It’s honestly not that hard of a stretch to start applying these skills to our digital data (though time-consuming). We have to start testing the media we’re receiving as soon as we can; we have to come up with digital backups and disaster plans.
But we have the knowledge and the fundamentals. All we need to do now is build from that.
What’s the point of all this?
I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be concerned; of course we should! I’m also not stating that I have all the answers. I’m just calmly pointing out that we archivists have a lot of options to tackle this ongoing issue. Going further, maybe the issue on the archivist side of things isn’t that digital data are disappearing, but that we aren’t the ones who are choosing what is lost. We lack agency because of the ephemeral nature of the digital age and it is KILLING US because we aren’t the ones processing/weeding.
But let’s be truthful here, hasn’t that always been the lot of the archivist? I mean, no one can save what hasn’t been received. I’m working as a consultant for a church that’s been around for 150+ years. They used to have notes and other things from the founding of their parish, but lost them in a move long before I was born. Would I love to find them? Yes, and when that day happens I’ll gladly come up with a plan to organize and preserve them. Until then, I can’t afford to worry about something that may not exist anymore. We can’t save letters that we don’t receive in a manuscript collection. We can’t save photos that aren’t donated to our holdings.
WE CAN’T SAVE IT ALL.
I’m not suggesting a Battle Royale of data on a dark shelf in the back of your archives. However, we need to continue to focus on saving SOMETHING from our digital holdings instead of waiting for the perfect method of capture. Worrying instead of working is condemning files to be lost. And let’s face it, some files are GOING to be lost no matter what we do.
The house is burning, but we can still save some of our valuables.
I’m sure it seemed like I fell off the face of the Earth for a while there. The truth is, my life got a bit chaotic around October. You see, my contract ended at my place of employ in Michigan and so I was forced to move back to Tennessee. That’s right, the Journeyman Archivist is now an unemployed archivist. AGAIN.
However, I am keeping busy! I’ve been doing consulting work for the First Presbyterian Church in Jackson, TN and dividing my time between Tennessee and Michigan. And of course, I’m applying for jobs. Lots and lots of jobs. In a way, this hiatus has been very good for me, as the last couple months of my employment were a bit rough for several reasons. Unemployment forced me to evaluate my feelings towards and about the archives field. Did I genuinely love it? Did I want to be a part of it? What did being an archivist actually mean to me?
I found that despite some bad experiences and interactions, the archives field is still a wonderful place. I also found that the drive, the hunger that drove me to pursue this career has returned in full force.
So watch out future employers! I’m ready to be the best archivist I can be for you!
Today is the one year anniversary of my first job in the field. In honor of that, I’m going to share with you some things I’ve learned over the course of this year:
YOU are your own best publicist. You could be the second coming of Schellenberg and Jenkinson combined and unless you get yourself out there, no one’s going to know. Now I’m not suggesting that you be obnoxious, but if there’s a skill that you have that would be useful or makes you unique, don’t be afraid to get the message out there!
There will always be people you don’t like but that you have to work with. Unfortunately, that’s the way life is. I found this difficult to take at first, but finally found wisdom in RuPaul of all places: “What other people think about me is none of my business.” Does this mean that I don’t care what my boss or other co-workers think? Of course not! All this means is that I quit letting it be such a focus. At the end of the day, I am the one who lives with me, not them.
Sometimes work styles are different; don’t be afraid to experience them. I prefer the “cog in the machine” process; give me a task and leave me to it. If there’s something wrong, by all means let me know IMMEDIATELY. If there isn’t anything wrong though, I’d prefer to be left alone. The atmosphere at my place of employ is very different; people openly talk about what they’re working on, the boss wanders by and asks for off-the-cuff updates…it’s not bad, just different! This has been greatly beneficial to me: I now have a better idea of what I’m looking for in my next workplace AND I’ve been forced to move outside of my comfort zone. It’s definitely a win-win.
Life isn’t fair. Simple, right? Sadly it’s not. Some people, myself included, will pay lip-service to that idea while secretly hoping that so-and-so will get theirs or that you’ll get what you want because you’ve earned it. I’m sorry to say that that’s not the case. Sometimes you will get passed over for things you think you deserve. Sometimes people will get away with doing things that they should be punished for. That’s life. BUT (and here’s the important part) you can choose how much you want to let it bother you. There have been quite a few times over this year where I have allowed myself to be miserable over a slight or a jab or a thwarted opportunity. And guess what? I didn’t feel any better afterwards. If anything, I felt more miserable. Once I became proactive about it, I felt a lot better. For example, if I had a bad day at work, I’d work on my resume or look at job postings.
It’s okay to be unhappy at your job. It’s not okay to whine about it. Use all that energy you’d be using to complain and channel it into something positive. Figure out if there’s any way to better your situation, whether that means suggesting ways to change a policy, being friendly to people, or even finding a new job. You are the one in control of your own happiness.
I don’t know what the next year holds for me. Will I still be at my job? Will I move somewhere else? I’m not sure. What I am sure of is this: You will have good days. You will have bad days. You will have mediocre days. But if you love what you do, it truly makes it all worth it.
This week, I wrote a blog post for work on the World Trade Center records we have in storage at the archives. In it, I wrote “All of the records, pictures, and drawings in the collection had finally made the World Trade Center tangible for me. For the first time, I grasped the enormity of the Twin Towers.” This was true, but did not touch what I meant.
This is because I’m not sure what I meant.
I’ve come to the conclusion that records mean nothing unless meaning is created for them. The WTC records came about because of need: they were documentation for an organization of a high-profile project. This is nothing special; most records are generated out of need. The WTC records served as paper memory and reference. And now? What I think they mean is just as important (or unimportant) as what you think they mean. But in assigning meaning to these records, or any records for that matter, we assign our own wants to them as well. We attach our own memories to them and make them ours.
When I look at the WTC records, I am 15 years old in Honors English class. I am also 25 years old standing at a processing table. I find processing these records to be depressing on occasion, but not for the reason one would assume. This collection has ruined my personal memories of 9/11. I mean, I still have my interpretation of what happened that day, but I’ve discovered that what I felt or thought that day, what I experienced that day, is no longer important. Because of what I have to do for the records, I find that I am not able to permanently assign a personal meaning to them.
Is that supposed to happen to archivists? Do we create absences of personal memory in order to serve as interpreters of memory for others?
It’s not that I’ve forgotten, you see. It’s that I feel that I am not allowed to remember.
A colleague, Christine Wilkerson (@michnelago to you Twitter folks), and I have been having a conversation over the past couple of days concerning new/young archivists and SAA. We love our jobs and we love our field. We can’t wait to get out there and network with more experienced archivists. Admittedly, we do that in a variety of ways; I mentioned Twitter earlier and of course, there’s Facebook and “that darn list”. The most effective way for us to get to meet people and keep up on what’s going on in the field, however, is attending conferences. How fortunate for us then, that this year’s SAA conference is in Chicago! Unfortunately for new archivists such as Christine and me, SAA’s annual conference is prohibitively expensive. As an example, let’s look at my situation:
1) I have to pay out of pocket for registration. My employer, while VERY supportive of professional development, simply does not have the funds to send me to a $300+ conference when I am doing nothing but participating (as an aside, they did pay for my registration and hotel when I spoke at MAA last month).
2) I have to pay for my room. At 199.00 a night, I cannot afford to stay in the hotel that the conference is being held at even though I’m not even planning to stay the whole conference! But let’s just say that I did stay at the conference hotel. If I stayed from the 24th through the 27th as I planned, that’s 597.00 before taxes.
3) When I’m at the conference, I don’t get paid. I work for an hourly wage (I’m totally fine with that), but if I don’t work, I don’t have a salary. Before taxes, that’s a loss of 183.60 (I’m not paid very much; that’s more symptomatic of the state of the profession than my workplace though).
4) Travel expenses are minimal; Amtrak will get me there and back for 48 dollars. This is by far the cheapest part of the trip.
In other words, if I were to have the full conference experience, it would cost me $1,147.60 for four days. Readers, that’s more than I make in a month. Of course, nothing is as straightforward as that. Let’s look at a more honest assessment of how much it will cost me to attend:
1) Since I presented a poster last year at SAA, I registered as a student member at that time. As of right now, I’m still technically a student. That brings the registration down to 139.00.
2) I’ve been to Chicago before and stayed at a fabulous hostel. Treating myself to a 4-bed room will cost me 139.41 for my entire stay.
3) Still missing 183.60 in lost work time.
4) Still missing 48.00 in travel fees.
All that added up leads to a more-acceptable $510.01 for four days and less than half of the first quoted amount. Of course, if I weren’t a student (which, of course, I’m not) it would be $690.01. And I’m going to point out that both amounts are more than one paycheck for me.
My point is thus: how can an organization reach out to its newer members with these expenses? My financial situation is definitely not unique and truth be told, it feels pretty isolating. I get that large organizations have expenses; I’m not naïve. But why aren’t there more financial options for archivists who want to attend? ALA, for example, has a work-and-attend option in small quantities. SAA does a fabulous job with member costs; they are obviously cognizant that archivists’ salaries run the gamut. Why doesn’t this understanding bleed over to the annual conference? Are the ones that can’t afford to attend regulated to second-class status? Because that’s the message I’m taking away; SAA as an organization doesn’t care about new or young archivists.
Now Christine’s and my story do have happy endings: I’m not ashamed to say that I asked my parents to help me out, since my birthday is a couple of weeks before the conference. They graciously did so. Christine’s story is even better: she vented her frustrations out on Twitter and Kate Theimer (@archivesnext) went out of her way to organize a new scholarship to help archivists who couldn’t afford the conference fee actually pay for registration. The first beneficiary? Christine. We’re both exceedingly lucky.
The fact that within two days this went from a Twitter rant → a scholarship gives me faith that the profession I’ve chosen and the field I love may actually care back. Someone is listening to us and trying to do something. There’s people out there willing to answer the call of an archivist in need in a quick, definitive manner.
It’s heartwarming.
Of course, this is only fixing the symptom and not the problem. But you know what? Today that’s enough for me. We’ll pick up the battle again tomorrow.
Christiane Evaskis-Garrett: Journeyman Archivist 