Telling the story of our libraries through photography
Book culture
A visit to libraries in Mparntwe
The importance of communicating about our collections
Read about the candidates at alia.org.au/board-candidates-2024
Voting closes 5 April 2024 5pm AEDT
Welcome to the first edition of INCITE for 2024! Whilst we are well and truly into Q1 of the new year, I hope that all our readers have had a restful summer and that those affected by weather events in many parts of the country are keeping safe. If you haven’t done so already, I encourage you to read ALIA President Jane Cowell’s introduction to this edition of INCITE, which covers what you can do to support climate action in your library.
Kicking off our regular features is the ‘Library stories’ column in which our two contributors, library technician Robert Ivancic and teacher librarian Jeremy de Korte, take us through their career trajectories and, in so doing, touch on the importance of persistence when pursuing your professional goals.
Our ‘From the archive’ piece comes to us courtesy of Sue Reynolds, who relates the compelling and contentious events in 1910 and the introduction of the Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) system at the Melbourne Public Library (now State Library Victoria). This is an extract from Carroll, Mary and Reynolds, Sue (2012). ‘Disaffection in the library’: Shaping a living centre of learning’. History of Education Review, 41(2), 147–-163.
In the ‘ALIA News’ section you can read all about what we’ve been doing in response to the significant uptick in book challenges happening in libraries around the country, go behind the scenes of the inaugural South Australian Library and Information Awards (SALIAs) and be introduced to ALIA’s newest Sector Committee, the Australian Coalition of School Libraries (ACSL).
In our feature articles, former librarian and current photographer Rob Lee shares his journey and philosophy in creating the BookSpaces photographic project, which has seen him travel around the country photographing libraries of all kinds. Rob also shares how he believes projects such as these can help communicate the value of libraries to the wider world. The team from the ARC-funded research project Community Publishing in Regional Australia takes us on
By Liz Bradtke Editor
their trip to Mparntwe (Alice Springs) where they visited three places that shaped their understanding of book culture in the region: the Batchelor Institute Library, Red Kangaroo Books and the Alice Springs Public Library. Tin Nguyen brings us a thought-provoking piece on how our public libraries are essential to fostering public good and how they can improve local government presence in Victoria’s outer metropolitan suburbs.
Providing a fine example of the value of libraries and the people in them, author and environmental educator Michele Gierck tells the tale of how her chance encounter with a librarian helped her children’s picture book come to life. Then, author, scholar and former editor of Review of Australian Fiction and Island magazines Matthew Lamb revisits the landmark copyright case involving Frank Moorhouse, Angus & Robertson and the University of New South Wales in 1974.
And in exciting news, we have a brand-new regular feature all about collections. Coordinated by James Baker, this new series looks at why various library collections are important and, crucially, how to communicate that importance to different stakeholders. In the inaugural piece, we hear from Ellen Coates on local history collections, Iurgi Urratia on comics and graphic novels, and James Baker on effective ways to communicate with patrons and stakeholders who have questions about items in any given collection.
I hope you enjoy spending time with the articles in this edition and, if you’ve ever considered submitting an article yourself, I encourage you to head to the INCITE page on our website to explore the writing guidelines, dates and deadlines, and all the editions of the magazine.
Liz Bradtke, Editor incite@alia.org.auThe Australian Library and Information Association acknowledges the Traditional Owners of Country throughout Australia and recognises their continuing connection to lands, waters, cultures and communities. We pay our respect to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples; and to Elders past and present.
The year has started with wild weather and summer storms, so I hope everyone is safe and your libraries are not flooded or damaged in any way by these destructive conditions. With climate being dominant in everyone’s daily conversations it is important for us, as library professionals, to check in at our own library to ensure we are taking sustainability seriously and helping to empower our library communities to take climate action. ALIA’s Sustainable Libraries Group is working together to showcase innovation and new ways of working sustainably in libraries. More about the group can be found on its website, here
The results of the Greening Libraries research project, which is investigating sustainability and greening across the library sector internationally and in Australia, are available on the website, along with several case studies documenting best practice in supporting climate action in libraries. I do recommend that you take the time to read the case studies and choose one action you can advocate to implement in your library service. Remember to record your thoughts in your member Continuous Professional Development (CPD) account to build your points towards meeting your annual CPD requirement. It is something I do every couple of months as it is important to reflect on your learning activity at every stage of your career. The CPD scheme can be accessed from your member page on the ALIA website. If you have not started your CPD page, then 2024 is just the year to do it!
The Australian Library Design Awards submissions have now closed and I cannot wait to see the shortlist, which will celebrate the innovation and design evolution of new libraries that have opened in the past four years. The awards showcase the best in contemporary library interiors and exteriors in Australia, and celebrate the investment in libraries made by our nation’s institutions, corporations and local, state and territory governments. Typically there are five categories — public libraries, academic libraries, school libraries and special libraries; however, this year the judges welcomed entries that may not fit in those categories, so it will be a very interesting shortlist really highlighting how all libraries are responding to their challenges innovatively. With the shortlist to be announced in April, ALIA members will be able to vote for the ALIA Members’ Choice award, so keep your eye out for that opportunity to vote for your favourite library design. Like most librarians, I aways check out libraries on my travels, as we can all learn new ways of presenting our spaces from others. And the Design Awards always present us with a great opportunity to see very new ideas and innovations and learn how organisations have included their community’s ideas when designing great library spaces. And of course you get to put those winning libraries on your must-travel-to lists.
Over the past few months I have also been bemoaning the wasteland that is Twitter, now known as X. Library-related discussions on the platform have dropped off as more library professionals and library organisations wind down their activity there. I have found a lot of the conversation has moved to LinkedIn. I have made some great connections there, and have noticed some really good resources being shared and conversations happening. If you are not on LinkedIn yet, I suggest you meet me there — let’s have a library conversation. Ned Potter’s article ‘Where should libraries go now Twitter *HAS* become a wasteland?’ is a thought-provoking read if your library marketing team is considering which social media platforms to focus on. At Yarra Plenty Regional Library, we are upping our Instagram game, with Facebook also proving to be a good platform to reach our community. I’d love to hear about your library’s marketing efforts, and if you write a blog post about it, make sure you share it on LinkedIn!
Jane Cowell AALIA (DCP) ALIA President‘Don’t pass up opportunity for growth (within reason!)’
You’d have to search high and low to find someone who hasn’t experienced feelings of self-doubt at some point in their life or career. Rarer still to encounter someone who hasn’t ‘failed’, either by their own estimation or another’s, and who hasn’t found themselves trying to determine the best way forward. In this edition of ‘Library stories’, we hear from two members of the LIS workforce who have faced particular challenges in their career or study trajectories and who have dealt with them in ultimately productive ways. Robert Ivancic, library technician at TAFE NSW Wollongong Campus Library, talks to us about a bump in the road he encountered while pursuing his interest in language studies, which ultimately helped him achieve his goal of putting theory into practice. Jeremy de Korte, teacher librarian at Sandringham College, takes us through his move from instrumental music teacher to librarian and how being persistent when pursuing the career you want can yield rewarding results.
In 2021, I enrolled in the Graduate Certificate in TESOL at the University of Wollongong. In addition to library and teaching qualifications, I wanted to pursue my interest in language studies and help English language students in my library. I work as a library technician at TAFE NSW Wollongong Campus. English Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) teachers and students are frequent users of library services. Understanding the needs of teachers and students, using my knowledge of English language teaching, provided the foundation for a growing relationship between me, students, teaching faculty and library staff.
The first subject I enrolled in was Pedagogical Grammar. It was nearly my
last subject! Who would have thought that failure was an option? But it was, and it did happen. I knew why. Growing up during a time when communicative language learning was dominant, I had no solid foundation in formal grammar. This lack of knowledge, coupled with the fact I was also learning functional grammar, meant I could not adapt or understand the subject content. Nor did I have any real-life environment where I could apply the theoretical knowledge I gained. In hindsight, it was a mistake to have enrolled in this subject as the first subject of the course.
I decided not to quit but gave the next subject a chance. I had four weeks to decide whether I could relate to the subject, Assessing and Evaluating in TESOL Environments. Though the subject appeared dry, I managed to create an environment where I could tie theory to practice — online conversation classes for ESOL students facilitated by me and other library staff. Teachers had indicated that some students had a keen interest in practising their English in a spoken environment. The first pilot class took place on Friday 27 August 2021,
and, due to COVID-19 restrictions, we used Microsoft Teams. The online environment would become the norm for future library conversation classes. It became the sandpit for connecting learning and teaching methodology to a real learning environment. This context became the key for my learning throughout the Graduate Certificate.
In the second semester of 2022, I undertook a professional experience placement within Wollongong’s ESOL teaching faculty. This required 20 hours of supervised teaching and 10 hours of classroom observation. Engaging in a non-library role provided several eye-opening experiences:
1. I was teaching students face-to-face in a classroom, which required a different set of skills than an online class
2. I was exposed to a teaching skill sets adapted to learner needs and a fixed curriculum
3. I saw the classroom and the teaching faculty as islands that interacted or failed to interact with the larger community
4. how teachers and students used technology in the classroom depended on them having a certain skill set, meaning that many were unable to utilise resources that would have aided their everyday learning.
How have these experiences helped my facilitation of online conversation classes? Firstly, they have forced me to be aware of my role as an initiator of conversation. The questions I ask, and the responses I receive from students, need to go beyond the basic three turns that are part of the standard initiation-response-evaluation structure. Secondly, the experience of facilitating online classes benefits other library staff, as I can share my knowledge with other facilitators who deliver sessions. New staff, without teaching or conversation experience, may not be aware how to push students beyond a standard basic response. Thirdly, using some classroom-based activities in the online environment stimulates student input and avoids any boredom setting in. Fourthly, considering how important technology is to formal learning, frequent description and use
of online language tools like Google’s define feature, which not only helps students with definitions but also provides excellent examples of pronunciation, are a key to helping students use these tools independently.
Library staff are technology experts. Teachers are experts in utilising teaching methodologies that suit their learners’ needs. Adopting both roles in the online conversation environment placed me in a unique position of using skill sets that complemented each other. I extended conversation through dialogic talk, enhanced with digital instruction that encouraged students to use online tools and resources. Professionally, I found the experience enriching.
Robert Ivancic Library technician TAFE NSW Wollongong Campus Library robert.ivancic@tafensw.edu.au
In late October, right before our Year 12s were about to finish their course work, a student came up to me in the library and thanked me for working with her to create a properly formatted reference list for one of her assessments. That made my day.
But it has taken a long time to get to this stage in my career.
While I am not new to the education sector, I still consider myself new to the role of teacher librarian. I work as a teacher librarian and an instrumental music teacher in a Victorian state secondary school in the south-east suburbs of Melbourne, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the many facets of what I do in the school.
At the end of 2017, I completed a Master of Information Studies at Charles Sturt University, a course that was challenging and fulfilling. The course included placement at Yarra Libraries and an opportunity to do an exchange subject through Simmons College in Boston. I had been teaching for nearly two decades by this time, as an instrumental music teacher, and I saw librarianship as a natural extension of teaching. What I
had not anticipated at the completion of my course was the difficulties in finding employment as a librarian — I did not have the experience. Thankfully, I was able to utilise my new librarian knowledge in volunteer organisations such as the Victorian Bands’ League, whose archival collections I continue to manage and interpret. I also started volunteering as a tour guide at State Library Victoria, a highlight of which was guiding visitors around the library on the day the refurbished spaces reopened as part of its Twenty20 project.
In the meantime, I was applying for lots of library jobs, and it dawned on me that more experience in this sector was a must if I was to get anywhere. I still had my teaching to do, and I was grateful that I was able to keep teaching music to students during the Victorian COVID-19 lockdowns. During that difficult time, I started writing for my blog, ‘Band blasts from the past’, which also built up valuable skills in researching local histories.
At the end of 2021, I was in the process of changing jobs, and I applied for an instrumental music teacher position at the school where I’m currently employed. It was at the end of the interview where the college principal, who was one of three on the panel, asked me about my library qualifications. As well as my interest in local histories, I had developed an interest in information literacy and the correct sourcing of information, as well as referencing. After hearing of my library interests, the principal indicated that
the school needed a new teacher librarian, and the school managed to organise a timetable that allowed me to work as both a music teacher and teacher librarian.
Five years after achieving my degree, I had my first librarian role, and one of the first people I called (aside from my partner and family), was one of my old lecturers at Charles Sturt University.
So, I’ve been in the role for two years now and I do not feel like a complete imposter anymore. It has been fascinating to see where this librarian journey has taken me, and where it could take me in the future. I am lucky to be part of a committed team at the school that comprises another teacher librarian, a library technician and a library assistant. I’ve had the opportunity to work across our senior and junior campus libraries and see how students interact with the spaces and staff. I’ve used my work in information literacies and academic skills in sessions I’ve run for different classes in these areas — from VCE Food Studies to VCE Media and a Vocational Major class. And I also work to support staff in their curriculum areas and their own academic studies.
In addition, the school has encouraged my interests in local studies, so I have been working to document parts of the school history. This has proved useful given our senior campus will be celebrating 75 years of operation in 2024. As well as publishing these projects in our school library foyer, I have submitted my work to the local historical societies and the Prahran Mechanics’
Institute Library. Management of school archives can be a fraught process in some state schools. I have had the opportunity to work with some of these resources and occasionally bring them out into the library space, much to the fascination of students.
If, some years ago, anyone had told me that this is what I would be doing in a school library, I would not have believed them. I would not have believed I would be working in a school library at all! I suppose I am not a typical teacher librarian because of my previous work in education and subsequent librarianship studies. Thankfully, the professional development is out there, and I am engaging in whatever development opportunities are offered through ALIA and other providers. And there is the knowledge and experience of other librarians to draw upon (thank you, LinkedIn). I’m part of a good team at my school, with a supportive principal who encourages my ‘quirks’, and I really like my job.
Jeremy de Korte
Teacher librarian/instrumental music teacher — upper strings Sandringham College dekortej@bigpond.com
This story is distilled from a longer article exploring the role and influence of public libraries in education and the distribution of knowledge in the early 20th century and beyond. For the full article and list of references, see Carroll, Mary and Reynolds, Sue (2012).
‘Disaffection in the library’: Shaping a living centre of learning’. History of Education Review, 41(2), 147–-163.
Below
Melvil Dewey. Decimal Classification and Relativ Index for Arranging Cataloging and Indexing Public and Private Libraries and for Pamflets, Clipps, Notes, Scrap Books, Index Rerums, Etc., 2nd ed. (Boston: Library Bureau, 1885).
Melvil Dewey didn’t ever visit the Melbourne Public Library (now State Library Victoria), or even come to Australia. He did, however, meet the library’s founder, Sir Redmond Barry, in 1877, and in 1910 the introduction of his Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) system caused significant disruption within the library.
Redmond Barry, a Supreme Court judge, and Melvil Dewey, then a young librarian, crossed paths at the Conference of Librarians held in London in 1877. These two men of disparate backgrounds, ages and achievements, but similarly opinionated about their various enthusiasms and passions, including librarianship, disagreed publicly at the conference on the usefulness of catalogue cards. Dewey advocated replacing book catalogues with catalogue cards, which he had standardised in size for filing in suitable catalogue cabinets, both of which he sold through his library supply business. Barry, on the other hand, considered the cards to be ‘expensive and superfluous’ and stated that ‘plates’ on the library shelves, with the subjects listed in gilt lettering, were ‘conspicuous aids to the eye [that] almost supersede the necessity for a catalogue’ at all.
Barry also took the opportunity at the conference to detail the ‘eclectic’ subject arrangement of the Melbourne Public Library’s books, which was later the basis for a second, much larger, issue of conflict at the library. In 1910, a dispute arose between the library cataloguers — who wished to retain the scholarly and philosophical, Australian subject classification described by Barry (who had died
in 1881) — and the Chief Librarian, Edmund la Touche Armstrong. Armstrong wanted to modernise the library with DDC which, after first being published in 1876, was rapidly spreading to libraries around the world.
The conflict over the implementation of DDC at the Melbourne Public Library was both philosophical and personal. Armstrong was directing the building of a ‘Great Reading Room’ to house the Reference Library, which he planned to be ‘one of the greatest libraries in the world’. He had already introduced Dewey’s shelving system into the Lending Library in 1900 to enable easier retrieval of books by the public but had faced strong opposition to this move by the library’s chief cataloguer, Amos Brazier.
So strident and public was Brazier in his objections that when Armstrong desired to reclassify the more prestigious Reference Library in readiness for its move into the new reading room, he did so behind Brazier’s back. Brazier, supported by librarian E Morris Miller, believed that logic and philosophy were required for classification as a means of disseminating knowledge, not a ‘system rigidly set in book form’ such as DDC, which merely curated books on the shelves. Brazier and Miller considered it ‘a pity’ that the American system ‘did not stay there’ and that it was full of ‘blunders and bizarries’. When Brazier discovered Armstrong’s plan for the Reference Library, he wrote a memo that even Miller felt was ‘full of invective … caustic… and going beyond the bounds
of administrative relations’. Armstrong, in retaliation and as his superior, referred Brazier for disciplining, and Brazier in turn complained of his treatment by Armstrong. Library staff took sides and a Staff Disaffection Committee was established to rule in the matter. During the proceedings, Armstrong was arrogant and belittling and Brazier was confrontational, negative and affronted that his cataloguing expertise was being questioned. The outcome was Brazier’s relegation to the Lending Library, which he refused to accept and appealed against in Parliament, to no avail, and the Reference Library was subsequently reclassified using DDC.
Brazier spent his remaining time at the library reading the books and writing, including producing a tract titled The terms and the grammar of creation, which described a means for classifying the universe both practically and philosophically. Morris Miller continued to be in conflict with Armstrong until he left Melbourne in 1913 to lecture in ‘mental and moral science’ (that is, psychology and philosophy) at the University of Tasmania, where he rose to the position of Vice-Chancellor and helped to establish the university library. The Morris Miller Library today houses various collections classified by Library of Congress Classification rather than the Dewey system as used in other of the university’s libraries.
Melvil Dewey died in 1931 (aged 80) after a lifetime of conflict with both friends and associates. He was an educator, a librarian, a businessman, an advocate for spelling reform and the metric system,
a founder of the American Library Association (ALA) and The Library Journal, initiator of travelling libraries to small and rural communities, and the founder of the first school of librarianship (the School of Library Economy) at Columbia College, which encouraged the admission of women. He formed the Lake Placid Club, which was involved with the 1932 (and 1980) Winter Olympics and was the venue for many library conferences, but was rebuked and disciplined for his racist, anti-Semitic and sexual activities at the club, in the ALA and beyond. In 2019, the ALA removed Dewey’s name from its top honour, and in 2020 changed the name of its Dewey Decibel podcast to Call Number.
The DDC system remains both prevalent and disputed around the world, despite changes made over the years to distance it from a white, Christian, gendered, 19th-century world view. It can be argued that ‘libraries and the way they are organised act as indices of the dominant views about what is desired of education, and how we educate, what knowledge is valued and the way it is believed people learn’ (Carroll & Reynolds, 2012). In the early 20th century, this inherent bias in knowledge dissemination and organisation was at the root of the conflict over classification of the Melbourne Public Library collections. In the 21st century, change necessarily continues and new classification systems are being developed in response to contemporary knowledge and education needs and to better serve diverse communities in libraries of all kinds.
In 2021 and 2022, news stories started to appear from the United States about book bans in schools and libraries, and the bans eventually spread to Canada, the United Kingdom, European countries and to Australia and Aotearoa-New Zealand.
Over the course of 2023, we witnessed a significant increase in challenges to the right and the freedom to read in Australia. In public libraries and public and private schools across the country, there was an unprecedented number of complaints, challenges and protests targeting books, library displays, programs and events. An overwhelming proportion of these were connected to content with LGBTQIA+ themes or characters, especially content about gender and sex education.
From early 2023, the ALIA team set up a reporting mechanism to collect data about these book challenges and incidents through the Freedom to Read page (which you can access when logged in as a personal or institutional member). The following key figures are drawn from these reports, although it should be noted that not all incidents have been reported. Even allowing for underreporting, it’s clear that the scale of challenges faced in 2023 was unprecedented.
Key figures
• In total, 75 individual book challenges were reported to ALIA in 2023; however, we are aware that there are many more that have not been reported.
• In addition to the 75 book challenges, there were 21 incidents, including protests, threats, abuse, petitions and other organised attempts to remove content or stop programs.
• Queensland, especially south-east Queensland, and New South Wales are the states where the most activity was reported in 2023.
• July was the most active month for book challenges, complaints and anti-freedom to read activity in 2023.
• Books for younger readers were by far the most targeted type of book, with board books, picture books, and children’s fiction and non-fiction accounting for 63% of total complaints, and young adult fiction and non-fiction making up 13%.
• Welcome to sex by Yumi Stynes and Melissa Kang was the most targeted title, accounting for a quarter of all complaints.
Free access to information and resources is a fundamental part of the ALIA Core Vales Statement, as is respect for the diversity, individuality and equality of all people. We know that access to library resources like books, comics, films, events and communities that reflect the faces, voices and identities of people like us makes us feel seen, shows us we have community and reminds us that we are not alone.
ALIA members can access the Freedom to Read resources. Over 2023, we have worked with library staff to bring together a suite of resources to support and equip the library workforce to respond to the kinds of complaints and behaviours that we have seen increase during 2023. The resources include information about the legal rights and responsibility of public libraries, a webinar on what libraries need to know about the Australian Classification Board, templates for creating collection development policies, a five-step resource for Members when preparing for book challenges, and more.
It is difficult to predict what 2024 has in store in terms of book challenges; regardless, we’d like to acknowledge and thank library staff, volunteers, parents, guardians, authors, illustrators, publishers and readers for doing their part to keep a diverse range of books available to all of us. Please ensure that you have accessed the resources and prepared for the year ahead, and remember to report all challenges to ALIA so that we can continue to support libraries in their vital work.
ALIA Groups and Committees are an essential part of the life of the LIS sector in Australia. In 2023, following a review in 2022, a new structure for Committees and Groups was created to ensure effective practice. There are now five clear categories: Sector Committees, Advisory Committees, Special Interest Groups, Regional Groups and Working Groups.
You will have seen some of our Advisory Committees introducing themselves in the pages of INCITE last year, and we’re delighted to kick off the first edition of 2024 by introducing you to the newest of our Sector Committees: the Australian Coalition for School Libraries (ACSL).
ACSL was officially established as a Sector Committee of ALIA in December 2023. The six school library associations that exist in Australia and ALIA signed a Memorandum of Collaboration agreeing to work together as a united and professional voice advocating for school libraries and school library staff across the nation.
In addition to ALIA, ACSL comprises representation from Queensland School Library Association, School Library Association of New South Wales, School Library Association of South Australia, School Library Association of Victoria, Western Australian School Library Association and the Australian School Library Association. Each of these organisations plays a unique and important role; and now, with communication channels strengthened
and means of collaboration set in place, there is a focal point for research to take place and a platform for school library voices to be amplified in Australia.
ACSL (or, as it was previously known, the ‘School Library Coalition’) was formed following a meeting at ALIA House in Canberra in 2015 between all the bodies that represent school library staff in Australia. Attendees agreed to form a coalition dedicated to raising awareness of school libraries across all sectors, thus promoting and supporting libraries and the staff working in them. The coalition agreed to meet four times per year and collaborate on issues of importance to school libraries across Australia. At a faceto-face meeting in Sydney in May 2023, it was agreed that the coalition would be known as the ‘Australian Coalition for School Libraries’ and that work would commence on drafting a Memorandum of Collaboration to make ACSL an ALIA Sector Committee.
The primary goal of ACSL is to be a united and professional voice to advocate for a stronger future for school libraries and school library staff in Australia, to improve learning and wellbeing outcomes for children and young people. This new Sector Committee exists to champion all Australian students’ access to wellresourced school libraries with qualified
and supported staff. To this end, ACSL may:
• conduct research about school libraries
• share information and expertise about school library initiatives, as well as about issues, challenges and opportunities for libraries
• develop policy positions (statements, standards and submissions) on key issues for school libraries
• communicate agreed key messages to members’ school library networks
• advocate to government, policy bodies and on behalf of school libraries
• enable partnerships with Australian governments and corporate or not-for-profit organisations.
To represent the important work of ACSL and to make it identifiable to stakeholders, a logo (below left) was developed. The design represents the connection between ACSL members, with the line continuing through the letters A C S L as a connecting rod (‘axle’, a play on ‘ACSL’) to the wheels of each member association. The image invites movement and appears to be ready to ‘get the wheels turning’. The magenta/purple colour symbolises the wisdom and dignity of the group and the creativity and magic of school libraries. Left
If you have a question about ACSL or information you would like to pass on, you can email education@alia.org.au
The ACSL logo, developed to respresent the connection between ACSL members.
The stars had aligned for ALIA South Australia to host the inaugural South Australian Library and Information Awards (SALIAs) on 14 November 2023. I was privileged to be a member of the ALIA SA committee responsible for organising this event, and can thus share our experience of how we organised the SALIAs.
Robert Sturgul, former Treasurer of the ALIA SA committee, had been quietly nurturing an idea for a few years — a dream of hosting an annual awards night to celebrate the achievements of individuals working in the library and information sector in South Australia. His dream may have been inspired by the way in which ALIAWest has been hosting the FA Sharr Award (since 1976!). However, Robert’s vision was to celebrate the achievements of not just individuals but also teams — and this is something that we intend to see happen with the 2024 SALIAs.
In March 2023, ALIA announced the appointment of Emily Wilson as its new Regional Engagement Manager. Emily is based in Adelaide, and her appointment gave us the impetus we needed to
transform Robert’s dream into reality.
Robert had already drafted the terms of reference for the SALIAs, as well as for the judging panel. Both of these terms of reference are available at the SALIAs web page. Shortly after Emily’s appointment, Robert Sturgul and Jasmine Castellano (another former ALIA SA committee member) met with Emily to broach the idea of hosting the inaugural SALIAs. Emily was most enthusiastic and gave the idea her full support.
Emily has a wealth of ideas, experience and contacts (not to mention the resources of ALIA) that she brought to this event. She suggested that we approach Geoff Strempel, Director of the State Library of South Australia, and Geoff embraced the idea wholeheartedly, lending us his personal support and that of the State Library. He made it easy for us to book the library’s Hetzel Lecture Theatre (gratis!) for the event and presented the keynote address — and awards — on the occasion. Emily had invited ALIA President Jane Cowell to emcee the event, and had offered a voucher of $200 for a
discount on an ALIA training course or conference to be awarded to the overall SALIA winner. Emily had also initiated contact with potential sponsors so that we could approach them, and ensured that ALIA News carried regular updates on the event, from calling for nominations to inviting registrations. She was always there to provide guidance, direction and support whenever we needed it, having had prior experience of organising much larger events.
Meanwhile, Robert was busy creating lists of potential sponsors, drafting letters seeking sponsorship, designing graphics for our social media posts, posters, certificates and the slideshow and preparing the event run sheet — in addition to overseeing the event budget.
We had started planning for the SALIAs from mid-2023, and it had been a recurring item on the agenda for our monthly committee meetings. However, in the final month leading up to the SALIAs, we moved to weekly online meetings so that we could respond to changing circumstances swiftly and stay on track to host the SALIAs.
Left to right ALIA-SA-Committee: Julia Liebich, Robert Sturgul, Hayley Hillson, Anand Kochunny, Cyprian Maynard.
Photo: Emily Wilson
Left to right
The nominees: Deborah Dunt, Alex Kane, Benita Parsons, Elizabeth Wells, Nicole Turner, Sascha Hutchinson (overall winner)with Jane Cowell (ALIA President)
Members of our ALIA SA committee had been allocated lists of potential sponsors to contact, as well as institutions to approach (initially for nominations, and later for registrations). We also used our social media channels on Facebook and X/Twitter for these purposes.
Julia Liebich, our secretary, took on the responsibility for obtaining the liquor licence and she completed the Responsible Service of Alcohol course. Cyprian Maynard, another former member of our committee, was responsible for ordering the trophy, and his previous experience of working in hospitality was invaluable in terms of deciding the menu and ordering food and drinks.
Hayley Hillson, our co-convenor, looked after publicity via our social media channels and the printing of signage, posters and certificates. Nicola Carson, convenor of ALIAWest, was very generous with her advice and provided us with samples of sponsorship letters and certificates that ALIAWest uses for the FA Sharr Award.
We were delighted to receive 15 nominations for the inaugural SALIAs. As a member of the judging panel (along with Liz Hall, Associate Director at the Flinders University library, Emily and Geoff), I can testify that the quality of nominations was high enough to make our task difficult. Emily had prepared an evaluation matrix,
and this helped us to shortlist six nominees and select an overall winner.
Profiles of our shortlisted nominees, including their achievements, are available here, and I hope that readers of INCITE will find them inspiring. Thanks to the generosity of our sponsors such as ALS Library Services, Emerald Publishing, Overdrive, RAECO, Scholastic and Wakefield Press, we were able to offer prizes to our first and second runners-up, and we presented certificates of recognition to our other three shortlisted nominees. It takes courage to submit a nomination, and we want to encourage individuals who are taking the initiative to come up with path-breaking work to nominate themselves for the SALIAs.
In addition to acknowledging our sponsors on our social media channels, we had offered them the opportunity to speak at the awards ceremony or play a promotional video at the event. A couple of our sponsors took the opportunity to attend the event and say a few words, while three others sent us their promotional videos. Around 50 people attended the ceremony, and we hope that the SALIAs will draw a larger audience in the future.
Events that celebrate the achievements of individuals and teams in the library and information sector are important for at least two reasons: they encourage the nominees to continue with their excellent work, and they inspire others to follow in
their footsteps. We hope that the 2024 SALIAs will be an event that sees more nominations, more registrations — and more awards!
Anand Kochunny AALIA Co-Convenor, ALIA South Australia anand.kochunny@gmail.com
Community Publishing in Regional Australia is a collaborative research project funded by the Australian Research Council’s Linkage Project scheme. Led by the University of Melbourne, it brings together researchers from Melbourne and Brisbane, book industry partners and four regional Australian councils to explore writing and publishing activity in Australia’s regional communities.
In August 2023, the research team visited Mparntwe (Alice Springs) to learn about local writing and publishing activities and to deliver a workshop about independent publishing. While we were in Mparntwe, we visited three places that shaped our understanding of book culture in the region: the Batchelor Institute Library, Red Kangaroo Books and the Alice Springs Public Library. This article provides a brief snapshot of each place and its connection to its community.
The Batchelor Institute Library, located on the grounds of Mparntwe’s Desert Peoples Centre, is a place for Batchelor’s staff and students, as well as the wider community, to come and enjoy their extensive collection of fiction, non-fiction, reference books and journals, as well as games, DVDs and CDs. The walls of the library are covered in student artwork, as well as photographs that celebrate the diverse achievements of Batchelor staff and students. It is a warm and inviting space with comfortable spots to sit and read.
As we arrived at the Desert Peoples Centre, we were struck by the way that the low-lying campus buildings, set among the red dirt and silvery vegetation, provided an uninterrupted view of the Tjoritja (Macdonnell Ranges), emphasising the
The walls of the library are covered in student artwork, as well as photographs that celebrate the diverse achievements of Batchelor staff and students. It is a warm and inviting space with comfortable spots to sit and read.
vital relationship between learning and the land. Walking up to the library building, we bumped into Adelaide, who had attended our independent publishing workshop at the Alice Springs Library the previous day. She works for a local language organisation and was coming to the library to use its big stapler for some of her language resources. In return, she would leave some of the resources for the library’s collection. This interaction typifies the nature of community and collaboration in Mparntwe, where people and organisations coalesce around the common themes of language, cultural heritage, knowledge and education.
We were taken on a tour of the library by Melissa Raymond, manager of the library and information services, and Associate Professor Kathryn Gilbey, the executive dean of the Batchelor Institute, who shared stories of
the library and the institute’s community of scholars and guided us through one of the world’s largest collections of First Nations literature. The Batchelor Institute aims to be a place where ‘truth, knowledge and wisdom meet’. Sitting among the stacks sharing a cup of tea and biscuits, surrounded by First Nations books, artworks and accolades, it was clear that this aim was deeply embedded into the library’s fabric.
What also became clear from our conversations with Melissa and Kathryn was their commitment to ensuring the collection’s accessibility to their community. Library visitors do not have to reside in Mparntwe to borrow books from the library and can receive borrowed books via the post. When posting books, Melissa includes a self-addressed post bag. She also offers generous loan lengths to ensure that
readers can enjoy books from the collection while located on Country and easily return them once they are finished. These small adjustments to traditional library lending practices help the Batchelor Institute to achieve its aims and truly serve its community.
When Red Kangaroo Books opened in the centre of town on Todd Mall in 2007, Mparntwe was home to several independent and chain bookstores. Now, 17 years later, Red Kangaroo is the only bookstore between Port Augusta in South Australia and Darwin in the Northern Territory. Over the past decade, Red Kangaroo’s manager Bronwyn Druce has made the bookstore a central part of the local community of readers.
Red Kangaroo Books was the first place we visited after arriving in Mparntwe. Bronwyn had recently been named the 2023 Australian Bookseller of the Year and we were keen to see the bookstore and talk with Bronwyn about the local book culture. The store is visually exciting, with each shelf teeming with an impressively diverse range of titles. However, there was one display in particular that was distinct. Located close to the door, there was a tall shelf labelled ‘Centralian History’ that featured dozens of books, displayed face-out, about the history of the region. The books were written by local authors, and many of them were self-published by the authors and printed about five minutes down the road, at Coleman’s Printing. This collection of books about the region, many of which were produced in town, demonstrates the role Red Kangaroo plays in helping to preserve and celebrate local stories.
What is interesting Red Kangaroo Books is that it strikes a balance between being a place for tourists to shop and a place that is important to the local community. One of the ways Bronwyn achieves this is through the events Red Kangaroo hosts throughout the year, launching books by local writers and hosting talks with authors who travel
through the region. These events make the store a hub for cultural activity in Mparntwe.
The Alice Springs Public Library is located in the heart of Mparntwe, on the banks of the dry Todd River. The library is a hub for many Centralians, offering a place to meet, read, study and watch television. The library’s special collection is a rich archive of materials — books, periodicals, reports and artworks — that relate to the history, culture and significance of Mparntwe and Central Australia. This unique collection contains more than 6,000 digitised images depicting the history of the region, as well as a digital archive of the Centralian Advocate from 1947.
Like many of the places we visited on our trip, the Alice Springs Public Library is deeply connected to its community and the region. This is reflected in the special collection, but also the programs and facilities that are made available to the community. For example, there is an extensive collection of First Nations language resources available to borrow. Some of these resources are published by local publishers and university presses; others are self-published and printed locally. The language resources come in many forms and are written for language learners
of many different age groups. The library also has a television viewing area, where community members can come and relax and watch television together with headphones on. These different facilities demonstrate the role that the library plays in the community, and the work library staff have done to ensure it is a place for everyone in the region.
We held our independent publishing workshop and follow-up drop-in session at the library. The two events brought together an eclectic group of aspiring writers, who were working on fantasy novels, self-help books, memoirs, family histories, biographies, books on critical theory and many more. We were struck at the diversity of books the writers were working on, as well as the way so many of the projects were inspired by the history and culture of Mparntwe and its people. This diversity demonstrates the vibrancy of Mparntwe’s writing culture and the stories that are ready to be shared.
Our research continues throughout 2024 and 2025, and this year we will be visiting Broken Hill in New South Wales, and Burdekin and Winton in Queensland. If you would like to stay up to date with our research activities, you can follow us on social media (@communitypublishinginaus) or sign up to receive our newsletter.
‘I choose a subject and then what I feel about it, what it means, begins to unfold.’
Diane Arbus, 1923–1971
Libraries have long been subjects of photographic interest. A brief internet survey will uncover numerous high-quality photographs featuring libraries. They show spectacular architecture, mesmerising patterns of books, shelving and study areas, and smiling people engaging with information sources of all kinds. The world is inundated with library imagery. Why, then, would a photographer delve into this seemingly saturated photographic sub-genre?
This question often occupies my thoughts. My answer, in part, is that even with all these images in circulation, the stories associated with our libraries have not yet been adequately depicted and celebrated. Every library is sustained by a community. The building, the collections, the services offered, and the activities conducted by staff all reflect that community. Many photographers have created fine art using the visual splendour of grand libraries and others have taken thousands of stock images for the library market. Few, however, have explored the functional environments of local libraries, the daily routines of staff and the interesting objects in their custody. Most libraries have common elements, but all are unique information spaces with facilities, practices and artefacts that hold stories of local significance.
In 2018, I serendipitously fell into the role of a library photographer. A friend asked me to take a series of archival images at a small private library in Canberra. After two hours onsite, I put my camera aside and relaxed into a comfortable chair near the entrance doors. From that location I could see most of the facility and all of the people using the space. It was at that point that the library began to reveal itself. The architectural structures
dissolved. The patterns of shelving, books and technology became obvious, and the dynamic presence of people became apparent. It was a more fascinating place than my initial photographs had captured.
I conducted a second, more engaging, photoshoot at that location and since then have sought out libraries where administrators and staff are willing to participate in what has become a personal photographic passion. Library photography
Above: Jindabyne Library, 2022 — evening. The library had only been open for a few months at the time of the photoshoot. This is a beautifully designed, warm public space, ideally suited to the Jindabyne community.
provides intriguing challenges and rewarding opportunities. In addition to the traditional skills of architecture, product and portrait photography, I am developing an appreciation for library design, ethnographic research and knowledge management.
The BookSpaces project has now taken me to more than 30 libraries, from Longreach in Central Queensland to Ocean Grove in Victoria and Gawler in South Australia. Not all libraries provide powerful stories, but the project is generating some wonderful photographs, providing engagement with fascinating people and, I hope, beginning to build a body of work that celebrates the role and purpose of our information spaces.
Beyond aesthetics: Can photography help promote libraries?
The further I got into the project, however, the more it occurred to me that photography might offer more than a beautiful or interesting visual. During a photoshoot at a small community library, a group of students arrived from a local primary school. They were distracted by my presence and the camera equipment, so, with the support of the senior librarian, I improvised a photography class using library objects as subjects. During the session, students captured some exceptional photographs that depicted their perspective of the library and its value to them, and these images are now on display at the library and at the school.
This got me thinking about how the medium of photography can assist in raising the profile of a library, shed new light on what exists within its walls, and even help communicate its value to the public.
I discussed with library staff how this might happen and the ideas we came up with include:
hosting meetings of the local photographic club at libraries. Meetings such as these can generate ideas to assist libraries with publicity and provide the public with an opportunity to review the library’s art and photography collection. They can also provide practical opportunities for club members, as for keen photographers the challenge to take interesting images inside a public library can be motivating conducting an annual photographic
Above:
Gawler Library, 2022.
This library is a stunning combination of new and old architecture.
The Reading Room is part of the original Gawler Institute building (1871), which integrates with a modern, purpose-built library.
This is a small private library servicing the residents of the retirement village. The library is maintained by volunteers and contains a collection of over 4,000 items.
competition to generate publicity and content for a library’s local history collection working with local schools to establish the library, and literature, as subjects for photography classes and other art mediums. Managers could allow the library to become a subject of, and perhaps a location for, lessons. Students studying graphic design and digital art could use literary subjects for their learning and assessment tasks. Libraries could even display or use the outcomes of students’ work
conducting exhibitions of local art and photography in association with themed promotions to generate interest in library activities and increase the number of visitors to the library
including photographers in volunteer schemes run by the library. These people can often record library events and wider community activities for the library’s collection
identifying local photographers and other artists who create books
holding art book launches at the library highlighting photographs from a library’s collection in social media posts using local photographs in the internal décor of the library.
The photographs I take for the BookSpaces project are provided to libraries for their retention and use. Many of the images have been used as archival documents, in reports and publicity documents, for disaster recovery and for general display. Photography has been proven to be a transformative medium and is used to great effect in many industries. The relationship between photography and libraries might provide opportunities for a library to connect with community and significantly raise its profile without unduly disrupting work processes or creating a bias in services. While photography is not a panacea for the challenges facing libraries, it could be an additional tool that can be employed with significant results.
As we navigate a paradigm shift in our understanding of information and its management, and as the function and purpose of libraries evolves, it seems crucial to collect dedicated images of the activities they undertake, the technologies they use and the environments they occupy. I intend to continue my photographic exploration of libraries and celebrate them as important community institutions. I hope that the project will stimulate others to see connections between book spaces, photography and other forms of artistic expression.
The BookSpaces project is a private endeavour undertaken to document and celebrate the places we create to store, organise, use and protect books and other information assets. The project pays special attention to libraries of all types. Images are shared with participating libraries and used for a range of non-commercial uses (for example, for photographic exhibitions and competitions and for online and hard copy publications).
Some of the images can be viewed at www.frame49.photography. Published booklets are lodged with TROVE (search ‘BookSpaces series’).
Rob Lee can be contacted at ablrys@gmaill.com
By Michele Gierck
In February 2022, I was working on my application for an environmental grant to self-publish a children’s picture book I’d taken years to research and develop. It’s the (almost) true story of a little-known Australian native freshwater fish, told in rhyme with accompanying scientific notes. There was just one hitch. I didn’t have an illustrator.
As I’m normally an adult non-fiction writer, children’s literature was new terrain. And it was proving tricky. However, I was determined.
Aware that the little fish I was writing about, Galaxiella pusilla, had recently been listed as an endangered species, I knew this story was needed, NOW.
Maybe this tale could inspire kids to think about native animals in their local waterway.
This in mind, I walked down to Rosanna Library, and was soon chatting with Lee, the children’s librarian there.
This wasn’t the first time we’d met. Several years prior, she’d read an early draft of my story, enjoyed it, then offered to take it home for her 10-year-old son to read.
‘He’s a very good judge of books,’ she added.
Fortunately, the young judge’s verdict was positive. So too were the reactions of the teachers and students in classes where I trialled the picture book — without pictures. (I hoped it wasn’t my acting earning the glowing responses.)
‘My son is now in his teens,’ says Lee when we reconnect.
I explain that I need an illustrator, one who can bring a very small, 4-centimetre,
fish to life on the page. After a couple of false starts, I understand some of the technical difficulties of my mission. Not only must the illustrator be able to draw the fish, what’s even more challenging is that they need to be from my local council area. If not, it’s unlikely my grant application will be successful.
Lee takes a few books from the shelves, and we discuss the illustrations. Suddenly, she remembers an artist and author who selfpublished a book with beautiful illustrations.
The woman is Marina Zlatanova. The book is Charlie’s shell. As soon as I get home, I write to congratulate her on her fine publication. (By then, a publisher has contracted her.)
Over the next few weeks our emails go back and forward, ping-pong style …
Where does she live? In the next street!
Would she like to see my story? Oh, yes.
Would she be interested and available to illustrate it? YES, YES.
In May 2022, I was awarded an environmental grant. By late December 2022, the first 100 books were printed, ready for the first term of 2023 when they would be trialled in local schools and with the Teachers’ Environment Network.
Gladys and Stripey: Two little fish on one BIG adventure was officially released in July 2023.
In November 2023, I was thrilled to be interviewed by Robyn Williams, host of The Science Show on Radio National. (It’s also podcast.) He was delighted with the story — with how it ‘puts real science in a book for kids’.
Sometimes I look at the book and think of the wonderful librarian who took time
Sometimes I look at the book and think of the wonderful librarian who took time to listen, had a real interest in local writers and illustrators, and fostered community connection.
to listen, had a real interest in local writers and illustrators, and fostered community connection. That mattered. Not just to me. Many readers will benefit — hopefully an endangered species will too — because one librarian had a key role in bringing this unique book to life.
Writer: Michele Gierck
Employment: Author, freelance writer, environmental educator and speaker
Website:
https://michelegierck.com.au/gladys-and-stripey
Please note: Rosanna Library closed recently, and will be rebuilt. It’s part of the Yarra Plenty Regional Library Services.
The link to the Science Show on RN https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/ scienceshow/gladys-and-stripey-two-little-fishenthral-children/103145720
Although it is a core part of our work, as library professionals often we do not focus on effectively communicating the importance of our collections as much as we focus on the collections themselves. In this series, we are looking at why various library collections are important and, crucially, how to communicate that importance to the different stakeholders we deal with.
To kick off the series, we’ll take a look at two collections that can have very different responses from the public: local history, and comics and graphic novels.
You’ll find that most public libraries have a local history collection. These are managed by dedicated librarians who are often founts of knowledge about their local area, and the collections are incredible and well-used by local communities. I am in charge of the collection of the Prahan Mechanics Institute Victorian History Library, a specialist history library in Prahran. And while not all of the collection is local history, this does make up the core of the collection, so I’m very familiar with it.
What would be defined as a local history collection? It is surprisingly fluid. I’m a member of the Public Libraries Victoria local studies special interest group and the Winder Local Studies national group, which is a coming together of local studies librarians from across the country. And the projects being worked on and the resources being worked with are incredibly varied. It’s not a dusty back room with moldering rate books and council records. There are photos, ephemera, digital resources, augmented reality projects, books, newsletters, quite
often objects, complex image collections, contemporary collecting — lots of local studies librarians were taking photos of their local areas during lockdowns — digitisation stations and, yes, staples like rare books and council minutes. Local history collections reflect their areas in all their glorious diversity, in both form and content.
So, who uses local history collections? The first answer to that is locals, which might seem self-evident, but these are the stories of the community they live in. Getting involved is an amazing way for them to discover more about their local area. Beyond that there are family historians, local historians, local historical societies, parties on both sides of dispute planning, heritage architects, local government bodies, state and federal government bodies, heritage consultants, businesses and so many more.
Collecting local history is about being connected to your local community and all the stories and resources that are being created in it, physically and digitally. Working at a statewide scale, as I do, keeping up with what is being created can be a bit hit and miss. It’s not possible to know about every local history publication that comes out. But there are lots of ways of finding out about most of them, from checking the National Library’s recent acquisitions listing, to signing up to mailing lists, to making connections with broader local community groups like the incredibly active Gippsland History
Facebook group, where anything new is likely to be published. And, for us, key sources of information are the newsletters and journals of local historical societies that we collect and index. No one knows a local community and its history (and anything new that might be being written about it) better than the local historical society. We collect and index the newsletters from pretty much every historical society in Victoria that has one; they’re a great source of books and other new material as well as being valuable historical resources in their own right.
But local history collections aren’t just static and waiting for people to delve into; they are also out and about in their communities, through events, history walks, photography competitions, displays, oral histories, crowd-sourced story collections and more. They’re active on social media, driving engagement, especially through photos of local places — and in our case, through our mascot Clementine the Highland Cow. We also run a wide range of events on all aspects of Victorian history and we add the recordings of the events back into the collection. Local history librarians share with each other which events have been effective and which haven’t, so there are always new ideas out there.
Local history collections are the heart of our communities. If we don’t know our own stories, then we don’t have an identity. Local history collections are dynamic and evolving, adapting with their communities as they change and grow, but always having an eye to the future.
Ellen Coates is the Collections Librarian and Volunteer Coordinator at the PMI Victorian History Library. She’s a co-convener of ALIAVic, a distinguished certified professional and was on the committee for NLS9.
She’s a writer and historian, runs the blog Historical Ragbag and can be found on social media as @biblioell.
Talk to a comic book reader and you’ll soon understand why comics are so important to so many people. There is a special magic that comics have that is hard to describe, but comes from the mixture of words, images and symbols. The myriad ways these can be combined or juxtaposed to communicate meaning is hard to fathom. Most importantly, people derive a very personal and special joy of reading comics, one that helps to associate reading with pleasure, and turns comics readers into lifelong readers. So why should libraries invest in graphic novel collections?
Providing free access to a wide range of resources for information and recreational purposes while serving a diverse group of patrons in the community is fundamental core business for libraries. Libraries need to adapt, respond and cater to the changing needs and interests of the community they serve.
Graphic novels are enormously popular these days and often appear at the top of bestseller charts. They are also increasingly garnering major literary awards and recognition. In Australia, three nominations for the Stella Prize, a CBCA Eve Pownall Award win in 2022 and a CBCA Book of the Year for Older Readers win in 2023 are recent examples that things are changing.
Fostering literacy is also a priority for libraries. Comics are increasingly gaining favour with educators as the school curriculum recognises the importance of multimodal texts and multiliteracies in 21st-century literacy. Comics, as multimodal texts, foster and support the development of multiple literacies, which is a necessary and important part of the curriculum.
Researchers are increasingly interested in the ways that comics stimulate a love of reading. Stephen Krashen long ago showed evidence that comic book readers read as many books as regular readers — often more — and that there is a strong correlation between reading comics and lifelong reading. Interviewing comic book readers and creators, a lot of them speak about not
having much of an interest in reading, or struggling to read when they were young, until they found comics. Comics turned them into lifelong readers and, in many cases, storytellers and creators.
Some people speak of the magic of opera, ballet or films. There is no doubt that comics and their multimodal nature have a similarly profound effect on readers. In Japan and France, comics have long been studied and recognised as literature and art. The Hiroshima City Manga Public Library, for example, serves readers manga and only manga. In France, comics have long been referred to as the ‘ninth art’. Their acceptance and their understanding that comics are simply another art, another storytelling medium, that appeals to all ages and encompasses all genres, has made them a ubiquitous form of reading across all age brackets.
Comics are also very well-suited to discussing complex issues at a very raw and personal level. In fact, it is no surprise that non-fiction graphic novels are among the most popular and highly regarded categories of comics. The emergence and growth of graphic medicine as a category is a perfect example.
With the great wealth of graphic novels currently being published and the excellent quality of Australian graphic novels being produced these days, with incredibly interesting emerging creators surfacing across all of Australia, it is my hope that libraries invest in their graphic novel collections, for children, for young adults and for adults. In 1967, while visiting a bookstore in Paris, Salvador Dali said that comics would be the culture of 3794. He was wrong in only one aspect. We don’t have to wait that long.
Iurgi Urrutia AALIA DCP is a librarian in a metro library in Melbourne (Naarm) with a background in media studies and education. He is also the convenor for the ALIA Graphic Novels and Comics special interest group.
Clearly there are many reasons why including these collections in libraries is important, and yet, while it is rare to have the presence of local history collections in a library challenged, comics and graphic novels have regularly faced challenges since at least the 1950s, and libraries have recently seen a renewed upswing in this negative attention.
While you might think this means the value of a comics and graphic novels collection needs to be communicated more than a local history collection would, I would argue that the value all the collections within a library needs to be communicated effectively, as does the collection’s value as a whole. The difference is how the communication is managed.
As with everything, the first thing to remember is that not everyone is interested in understanding what we say. Unfortunately, some people will have already made up their minds before giving us the opportunity to communicate, so we need to keep in mind the amount of effort we are expending explaining something to a person and weigh that against how much effect we can see in response. Sometimes the only thing a person will accept from a library is for it to remove the content they dislike, and they can take up large amounts of our time engaged in essentially pointless discussion — time that could be more usefully spent elsewhere.
That being said, for the most part it is well worth the time it takes to engage with someone who is questioning why something is in the collection. As Iurgi explains, some of the reasons why comics and graphic novels should be in a collection completely refute arguments that are made against their inclusion. In these cases, it is important to frame, where possible, what you say about those positive effects. Directly
responding to a negative, even to correct it, can unintentionally reinforce and legitimise that negative.
For example, it would be better to say ‘Comics have been shown to help not only with traditional literacy, but with a range of multimodal literacies beyond what regular books can’ rather than ‘There is no evidence that comics harm literacy development in children; in fact, comics even help them develop other forms of literacy.’
The first framing keeps the focus on the positives of the collection, while the second framing allows the listener to focus, if they choose to, on the specific words ‘comics harm literacy development’ and mostly tune out the rest.
While this will be most obviously applicable to communicating with library patrons and the public, this advice is also useful to keep in mind when justifying spending on these collections to local councils or other governing bodies.
Local history collections, although more universally accepted as an important part of library collections, are still often misunderstood and, usually with no ill-intent, can be woefully misrepresented. The rate books and council records that Ellen mentioned are such a small part of these collections are still, for the vast majority of people, representative of these collections.
Because these collections vary so much from library to library, it can be difficult to know how to communicate their importance in your situation, but a great option is to make sure you talk about the collection in relation to its use. Has an article using research done with the collection been published in a magazine or journal? Are renovations of a heritage building possible because of evidence found in documents you held? These are big stories, but just as important are the person who found an image of the grandparent they never met, or the program from the first production of a
local theatre company that is being restaged for its 30th anniversary.
Local history collections are, much more than many collections, human stories — and human stories particularly relevant to library users. How they are used, and the connections that people make through them, are so important and so important to share.
Armed with the insight into these collections that Ellen and Iurgi provided, and communication strategies to help you tell others about their importance, we hope you feel more confident when speaking to others about them.
James Baker is a librarian and library educator from Melbourne (Naarm). Before undertaking his master’s in information management, he completed a degree in professional writing, media and communication that he continues to use regularly in his work in libraries.
I have recently published the first in a projected two-volume cultural biography of Australian author and intellectual Frank Moorhouse. The first volume, Frank Moorhouse: Strange paths, ends in 1974, with the High Court of Australia sitting to consider the landmark copyright case, Frank Moorhouse and Angus & Robertson (publishers) vs The University of New South Wales (UNSW). That case started when, in September 1973, a person used the photocopy room in the UNSW library to make two copies of a short story from a library copy of Moorhouse’s 1972 book, The Americans, baby
This test case was developed by the Copyright Council of Australia, by two legal research officers, David Catterns and Peter Banki, in order to create a licensing scheme to pay copyright holders for their work being copied and used in libraries. The Copyright Act 1968 — which was leveraged in this test case — was itself the outcome of successful campaign by the Copyright Council.
One day in 2016, during the initial stages of researching my book, I found myself in a library, photocopying archival material. A librarian politely intervened, claiming that due to copyright restrictions, I was unable to photocopy all of the material I was trying to copy. I explained that I was confident I was working within the guidelines, but they insisted.
... a sense of humour and accepting the absurdity of certain situations is a prerequisite for researching the life and times of Frank Moorhouse.
The irony of the situation was that the material I was trying to copy that day pertained to the 1974 copyright case that Frank Moorhouse was involved in. The guidelines being cited to me by the librarian were the very guidelines that this test case established decades earlier. I pointed this out, arguing that the content of the material I was copying could adjudicate the very disagreement in which we were then engaged. But this proved unconvincing. I backed down, bemused by the situation. After all, a sense of humour and accepting the absurdity of certain situations is a prerequisite for researching the life and times of Frank Moorhouse.
The following week I happened to be doing an In Conversation with Frank Moorhouse at another library. Afterward, at dinner, he introduced a man to me. ‘This is my lawyer’, he said. It was Peter Banki. I told them about my encounter the previous week, which amused and delighted them, especially Moorhouse. But we still needed to address the practical problem, and so in the days that followed Peter Banki penned a letter, which Frank Moorhosue signed, giving me permission to access and copy anything and everything pertaining to Moorhouse’s archives. The following week I returned to the library, letter in hand, and was allowed to continue my research unimpeded.
I do not begrudge the librarian, however, for showing concern in our initial encounter, even if they did lean too far on the side of caution. I have also worked for libraries and there were times when I was on the other side of similar interactions, in which cases I was probably less polite to patrons.
But the main reason I did not begrudge the librarian was because of something else I found in the course of my research. I learned that from the 1960s through to the early 1980s, the main institutional obstacle to the introduction and acceptance of copyright acts and subsequent amendments, and to the Australian Lending Rights Schemes, was Australian libraries — and librarians. They opposed and lobbied against all of these changes.
Of course, this has since flipped to the opposite, with libraries, librarians and staff being at the forefront, not only of defending copyright and various lending rights schemes, but taking a lead in campaigns to expand and deepen such protections. Consider, for example, the recent introduction of Digital Lending Rights. The librarian trying to thwart my attempts at copying archival material that day represented the cultural change that Frank Moorhouse’s efforts had brought about.
The story of this cultural change is larger than Frank Moorhouse, of course. But in order to understand his contribution, I needed to understand that larger historical and social story — and to make that context also available to my readers. This is why I have referred to my project as a cultural biography of Frank Moorhouse.
In the first volume, I outline this cultural history of copyright in Australia. It begins with the Statute of Anne (1710), which first provided authors with copyright protection, though it was minimal. This statute was still in place when the colony of New South Wales was founded in 1788, and was only superseded in 1814, by the first Copyright Act (UK).
The enlightened purpose of this initial statute and subsequent act was to encourage writing and foster an intellectual and literary culture: a British culture. But in a colonial context, such laws became also a way of controlling and directing that intellectual and literary culture, such that it became an instrument in underpinning imperial ambitions and loyalty to Britain, at the cost of developing a local publishing infrastructure and an independent intellectual and literary culture: an Australian culture.
One of the consequences of this dependency on Britain for the supply of books and ideas during the 19th century was that it promoted competition between colonial booksellers and nascent libraries, and a lack of cooperation with and between local newspapers and magazines, local publishers and local authors. This fractured cultural infrastructure was carried through Federation into the 20th century. It was, in part, the fault line behind which libraries attempted to block various copyright and lending rights schemes in the 1960s and 1970s, which were seen as benefiting authors and publishers to the perceived detriment of libraries and borrowers.
And yet, the efforts of libraries and librarians in the decades since have helped repair some of those fault lines in our culture. It is in order to understand those efforts — and Frank Moorhouse’s contribution to them — that I am currently researching and writing the second volume of his cultural biography.
Frank Moorhouse: Strange paths is published by Knopf (ISBN: 9780143786122). Matthew Lamb writes at publicthings.substack.com
We extend an invitation for First Nations Truth Telling, showcase the battle against disinformation, and dare ourselves to push our work forward to continue to bring vibrant, relevant services to library users and communities.
Join your peers for a truth and dare
alianational2024.alia.org.au