Beck
Beck’s article brings up an important point – the dynamic role of immigrants in the library and the impossibility of generalizing to all immigrant groups. The Jewish immigrants are an excellent example of this, particularly in the library case, for their experience differs significantly from many other ethnic groups. At the same time, because the Jewish experience was rather unique, it is important to keep in mind that their uniqueness does not refute general trends within other immigrant populations in the United States.
Beck begins by noting the two basic interpretations of library history as either progressive/humanitarian or revisionist/authoritarian. Articles since have proposed a more mixed view of these two perspectives, but keeping in mind the time period of the article, I will not go into that. The cultural context of each immigrant group coming to the U.S. played a vital role in shaping their American experience. While the Jewish immigrant tended to come over with a higher significant social and/or monetary capital than many others, the Russian Jews, based on the nature of their leaving Russia (persecution), were not as fortunate. Still, education is an integral part of the Jewish culture; it is not surprise that they had some of the highest education levels and numbers in the U.S. Their perseverance in their academic endeavors is astounding, though. As Beck notes, even the poorest immigrants received education through schools like the Machzikay Talmud Torah Academy. Religion is a deep root in the Jewish culture, and education has deep roots within their religion. Therefore, Beck’s central argument that it was primarily the Jews’ culture that attracted them to the library, not the assimilation efforts of librarians, holds true. The Jews were an exceptional case of education and the immigrant, for “even the most destitute immigrants implored their children to continue their studies” (Beck 140). Recognizing the cultural relevance of each immigrant group – and exploring each group as a unique and individual set of cultural beliefs and values, and moreover as having a unique American experience – will heighten understanding of library history and its influence on the American immigrant.
However legitimate Beck’s thesis is, though, he seems to quick to criticize Harris in his authoritarian perspective. To begin with, in his article Harris expresses the lack of firm evidence in his article and the interpretive nature with which he had to proceed to compile it. Moreover, Harris does not insult the immigrant’s desire for education – like Beck claims he does – for he in fact asserts quite the opposite. In his article, mentioning the shattering of the “uplift” theory held by many idealistic librarians, Harris affirms that the “positive values [of the public library’s service to immigrants] were the result of the immigrants persistence and not the librarian’s conscious attitude” (Harris 2512). Harris and Beck seem to provide different attitudes of the librarians toward the immigrant, but this is not to say that they had necessarily differing views on the immigrants themselves. Beck even mentions that the Aguilar librarians had a more positive attitude toward immigrants than many other libraries in the area did. Indeed, Harris and Beck are not as different in their historical claims as Beck may like to believe.
Berry
Being an article of about a page and a half plus graphs, I do not have that much to say specifically about this article, but it brings up an important point/message. Diversity today continues to be an issue within and outside of the public library profession, and society as a whole is always looking for ways to diversify. In the beginning, Berry brings up the point that in a lot of cases, people simply “don’t get it.” Not to say they are insensitive or purposely negative-feeling towards the issue, it is just something with which they are unfamiliar. Especially in the white community, many people do not understand the immigrant or minority experience, and therefore have difficulty effectively providing services for them. For this reason, it is important for librarians – and for everyone – to open their minds and actively seek out solutions to this growing issue in today’s culture. White privilege exists both consciously and subconsciously, and only by bringing the problem into a salient awareness can the problem be fixed. Awareness, Berry affirms, is a critical step, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. As evidenced by the graphs provided, the “white ethnicity” comprises an overwhelming majority of librarians in the U.S.
Question number 6 states “I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of color who constitute the world’s majority without feeling in my culture any penalty of such oblivion.” Unfortunately, by holding this attitude, or even its subconscious counterpart, librarians not only limit their service to minority groups, but they hinder their own abilities and knowledge as a librarian. Librarians are meant to assist in the gathering of information and knowledge, but when they are only limited to one language (or even to one culture) the resources with which they are familiar become restricted. Many if not all history graduate programs that deal with cultures of another language require some degree of language proficiency for so many of the valuable sources they will use in their research are not in English. Primary sources from hundreds or thousands of years ago will obviously not be in English, yet researchers must have access to these accounts and be able to read and interpret them. If not, their research will be insufficient. Likewise, the librarian that rejects other languages and cultures is limited in much the same way. Her access and familiarity with many of the world’s resources will, in fact, be scant. Therefore, it is essential that librarians – especially white librarians – heed Berry’s words and learn to embrace diversity.
Malone
While I did question the purpose and necessity of some of the material – especially in the middle – in Malone’s article, I think some of the brief points she makes in the beginning and toward the end warrant examination. I wish she had gone into more detail on such points, but at least by bringing them to the forefront and urging readers to look further, Malone takes the first step in the process.
In discussing multiculturalism (or lack thereof) in library histories, Malone notes the contradictory nature of librarians claiming open access and intellectual freedom while they specifically catered their collection to white elites, with less concern/focus on foreign language collections or interests of immigrant readers. Taking this observation along with our previous reading from The Dismissal of Miss Ruth Brown, readers can get a good idea of the detrimental repercussions of librarians (or city commissions) who believe they can best judge what the public should and should not be reading – and more over whether they should or should not have access to certain materials. She goes on to note the “constructedness and fluidity of group identity.” Whether her intended point or not, for me it caused a recollection of David Hollinger’s Postethnic America, where Hollinger lays out the problems that the rhetoric of the multiculturalism debates has caused. As a result, multiculturalism debates have actually alienated certain groups by blending their unique features into one group identity different from the “mainstream” or “white ethnicity” of the U.S. Instead, he pushes for a more cosmopolitan view as first referenced by Bourne, which recognizes the fluid dynamics of ethnicity and group identification. For Malone, this seems to be an ideal suggestion for it would better allow for the fact that group identities are “constituted and reconstituted” continuously. After all, if the elite blacks cannot tell the whole story of black involvement in library affairs, a generalized and stereotyped ethnic group is equally incapable.
Near the end of the article, while discussing ways to move toward multiculturalism in the library, Malone questions the role of the historian, promoting an abandonment of presentation as objective observers and instead taking a stand and supporting their position. I believe this is already the role/purpose of an historian’s work, as they establish a thesis and then set off to prove it. Many people often incorrectly categorize historians as simply telling an expository story of events in the past, but history is dynamic and ever-changing; historians constantly interpret facts and events in order to prove what they are writing. Historians certainly aren’t opinion columnists, but Malone’s suggestion would make for an interesting case. If historians, particularly in library history, more often took opinionated stands, it could make for a very interesting and educational debate/discussion.
Musmann
A really interesting point Musmann brings up in the beginning of the article is the difference in treatment toward immigrants and African-Americans. Especially in the early part of the century, backlash against immigrants was extreme, as witnessed by the Immigration Act of 1924 putting quotas on immigrants in general but moreover ranking immigrants based on country of origin through this quota system. Certainly immigrants were looked down upon and not considered “on equal ground” with the “white” Anglo-Saxons who were here “first.” [Sentiment of the times, not my own!] Yet, in the case of the library (and in society at large, really), immigrants were treated quite well relative to African-Americans (despite the fact that immigrants were restricted harshly to citizenship abilities, while those of African descent were without quotas). The sentiment of the immigrant over the African-American is particularly clear with the logical disconnect between the library’s arguments against African-Americans but for immigrants. The ALA claimed dealings with African-Americans were more of a local or regional issue, so they did not intervene. Clearly though, the same case existed with non-African immigrants. The Chicago Public Library alone had significantly different demographics just between their own branches – some catering to African-Americans, some to Bohemians, others to Italians, and others mostly white. The list goes on. Clearly, though, libraries mobilized to provide outreach to the immigrant. Moreover, throughout the mid-20th century the Chicago Public Library branches issued surveys on the ethnic makeup of their areas to better cater to the immigrant and their needs and interests. However, Musmann notes how “an analysis of the readers’ background, information on their social and economic status, and general demographic data” was left out of reports for African-American libraries and branches. There appeared little interest to adapt services to best fit African-Americans, particularly evidenced by the Atlanta public library “disposing” of their black advisory committee because “they did not confine their activities to advice.”
Within the Civil Rights Movement education and racial issues in general throughout our nation’s history, one rarely thinks of the public library as an actor. People mention separate/segregated drinking fountains, restaurants, bathrooms, etc. but never (or at least, rarely) does the library issue come up. The library provides a perfect example of the inequality of “separate but equal” almost as much as the public school system, yet it receives no such attention. Of course, in secondary and even higher education the library is not usually mentioned in any form of historical instruction, so perhaps it should not be that surprising. Nevertheless, learning and education on the race issue like that presented by Musmann could provide new and insightful ways of learning and teaching at these levels.
Whitmire
The story of Regina Anderson/Andrews surprised and impressed me; while color should not be an obstacle in public or professional life, during Regina’s time it was. Her ability and determination to overcome and surpass these obstacles and boundaries provides a noteworthy lesson not only in race issues, but for anyone looking to overcome an obstacle in life. She truly can act as a poster child for perseverance.
One of the most interesting – and surprising – parts in the article was Ernestine Rose’s ambiguous pseudo-recommendation regarding Andrews. She claimed she might hire Andrews for the position of second first assistant, hence hindering her earned promotion, which was not even an existing position. The fact that the outspoken advocate for African-Americans in the branch seemed to be prejudiced sheds light on the true plight of the race issue in early 20th century America. Normally, someone in Andrews’ position might give up – being black and female – but her determination kept her going as she gathered allies in her fight against the New York Public Library, an institution surprisingly prejudiced for the diversity that existed within the city. Andrews’ civic life also indicates her dedication to public service in various areas.
Often, the role of the public library has had an active, public outreach image. Normally, though, such as been in the form of white librarians promoting the idea of the “education of the common man” lifting himself up through his own hard work; or even white librarians who fought civically for expanded rights in the library – such as Ruth Brown and supposedly Ernestine Rose (though part of me questions that after having read the article; though I do not know much more about Rose as a person or in her civic duties). Andrews, though, seems to have taken her work one step further, branching out from the library/professional sphere and really going out into the community – and the country – to promote her civic sense of duty. In addition to completing her thesis, she balanced her civic and professional careers/life to maximize the service she provided.
Gittings
Without question, the Task Force on Gay Liberation seems the most active group within the American Library Association. The previous readings – both for this week and the Ruth Brown book – have given the ALA the impression of shying away from any confrontational action and being nervous to take a stand on almost everything. The library does not seem like a place of assertion or political action (based on common stereotypes, I mean) but perhaps by being more assertive the library could win a more salient place in public image and opinion. Interesting enough, despite stereotypes of passivity, it was in the ALA that for “the first time… gay people in any professional association had openly banded together to advance the gay cause through that profession.” While the TFGL doesn’t seem to conform to passive actions of the ALA, they at least gave the TFGL the opportunity to be more aggressive and assertive in their affairs. Obviously, this approach worked well at least for the TFGL and could (should?) serve as a lesson for other ALA subgroups. The TFGL’s accomplishments are impressive, especially considering that homosexuality was not taken off the “mental disorder” list until 1973, and was not changed in classification by the World Health Organization until recently (1992). Unlike the ALA, the TFGL was not afraid to take provocative steps to get their message out in the public, as evidenced by their kissing booth at the 1971 ALA conference. However, the ALA itself would not even denounce racism in the library despite clear cases in which they should. Even within the gay community (outside the TFGL group) the ALA would not “go to bat” for Michael McConnell after being unjustly fired from his library job. The actions of the ALA seemed to lag significantly behind their rhetoric – in terms of race, intellectual freedom/censorship, and even gay and lesbian issues. It seems they have finally caught up, but again, I do not know much about contemporary issues within the ALA.
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