We all make judgements based on first impressions. Based,
that is, on almost nothing. How many people do you know who decided not to
attend a certain college (or, perhaps more worryingly, to attend) based on the impression they got from their
tour guide? We can base the course of our education, our future, our lives on
snap judgments made over thirty minutes of listening to a single person
describe his dining hall’s lunch options.
But first impressions are powerful. Once formed, they are
difficult to shake, maybe because they color our perception of everything we
see, making it look better or worse than it really is – like how everything
seems to go wrong on a day that starts off badly, or how everything is
beautiful when you’re in love.
Here in Italy, I had two strong first impressions of two
different libraries. The Berenson Library
and the public library in Pistoia.
At the Berenson, when we first arrived, we were treated
somewhat rudely. We were told we had to wait outside the library for our host,
we couldn’t sit on the terrace in the shade but had to stay on the sunny
benches, and we (or at least I) just felt unwelcome, alien, and intrusive.
Granted, once the tour began our host was incredibly welcoming and gracious,
but I still could not shake my first impression. Perhaps that is why I became
so upset when I heard that the library’s unbelievable collection is designed to
serve 25 patrons a year (resident scholars). Later in the tour, we were told
that other scholars do in fact access the collection, but it is still quite
exclusionary. It is not open to the public, and the library is not putting
digitization (and thus, the expansion of access) as it’s highest priority.
“Yes,” I thought “just as I suspected. Everyone who doesn’t meet Harvard
Standards is left outside to sit in the sun.”
Of course, I was probably being unfair. The Berenson is not
a public library, and should not be expected to serve everyone. Those it does
serve, it serves with the highest levels of competency and scholarship. It’s a
wonderful library. But it still bothers me. My first impression can’t be shook.
Is it valid? I’m not sure.
On the other extreme, I had an amazingly positive first
impression of the Pistoia public library. We walked past local artwork on our
way to the entrance, the lobby was huge, open and beautiful, and we were
greeted warmly, with open arms (arguably, my first impression of the library
may have even been before I saw it, when it’s merits were extolled by
librarians and information professionals we met at the US Embassy in Rome). It
was a library open to everyone, a library for the whole community.
As we continued to spend time in the library (and with it’s
wonderful director) I was continuously wowed by what I saw as the library’s
values (open access, a commitment to universal service, a determination to
delight, educate, and welcome all patrons) expressed in any number of ways. I
expected to be blown away, and I was.
So why are first impressions so strong? Two possibilities
spring to mind. The first (which makes me, and all of us, look pretty foolish)
is what I mentioned above – once we get an idea in our head, it’s hard to get
it out. Once I decided that Harvard libraries were exclusionary or that Pistoia
was wonderful, I noticed certain details (and, perhaps, ignored others) which
strengthened that narrative – which confirmed my beliefs instead of creating
ambiguity (and can’t ambiguity make for a less clean, but oh-so-much-more
interesting story?). Shame on me. Maybe.
The other possibility is that first impressions are, at
least to some degree, accurate. Cultural values creep into every corner of an
organization – whether through explicit policy, subtle conformity, hiring
biases, or other means. While one the one hand it seems silly to view every
single act by an individual or every minor policy as emblematic of overarching
organizational values, on the other hand I could never imagine an employee at
Pistoia telling a patron to get up out of the shade. Maybe first impressions
are valuable because a first-time observer notices things which long-standing
members of a society or organization have come to see as common place. It’s for
this reason that many businesses eagerly seek out the opinions of new hires or
professionals fresh out of school.
So what are the implications for global librarianship? When
we visit a country, we can’t help but form initial impressions based on what we
first notice. We notice the novel, the outlandish, the “exotic”. These little
details build into a bigger picture, a set of descriptors: ancient, quaint,
backwards, dirty, charming, scary, modern, strange, foreign, pretty, boring or
fun. And these descriptors build into a set of values, a picture of the country
which we can take home with us. Is this picture valuable? Is it dangerous? Is
it accurate? I’m not sure. I’ll have to travel more, and I’ll let you know when
I figure it out.
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