Eira Tansey

Posts for the ‘SAA’ Category

We’ve Got to Stop Meeting Like This: A Proposal for HACS (Hybrid Archives Conference Strategy)

Why We Should Consider a Change

As archivists enter our second summer of online conferencing, and the pandemic has gone from “getting under control” with the vaccine rollout to “?????? who knows???” with the variants, people are naturally wondering what conferencing in the future will look like if, and when, it is safe to travel again. We should not go back to the pre-pandemic conference model. We should retain the best of both online and in-person conferencing, and not squander the incredible opportunity we have to rethink how we conference.

One of the blessings and the curses of the archives profession is how incredibly decentralized it is. Many, if not most, archivists belong to multiple location and specialty-based associations. For example, an archivist could belong to a local (Greater New Orleans Archivists), state (Society of California Archivists), regional (Midwest Archives Conference), national (Society of American Archivists), and/or specialist organization (Association of Moving Image Archivists). As a result, it is not unusual for archivists – particularly those with financial privilege or institutional support – to maintain memberships in multiple archival associations. But all of these organizations are independent of one another – which also means all of their annual meetings are coordinated independently of one another. 

This is not sustainable, on multiple levels. It’s certainly not sustainable on a carbon emissions level, and given the limited travel budgets of most archivists (many in our profession have to pay entirely on their own dime), archivists have always had to choose which conferences to attend and which to skip (I have no evidence to support this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if attendance at regionals increases in the years that SAA is farthest away from that region). Even for those of us with institutional travel support, it is likely that our travel budgets will take a hit in the future, or certainly will not keep up with costs. 

After attending a number of online conferences this year that were traditionally held online, I have been hearing the following comments about the future of conferencing:

  • “For years I could not attend this conference due to caregiving obligations/disability concerns, and now that it’s online I can finally participate.”
  • “I like the ease of conferencing from my desk but I also get interrupted by work all the time because I’m still at the office instead of in a conference hotel.”
  • “I can actually afford to attend as a low-income archivist because I don’t have to pay for a flight and hotel.”
  • “I enjoy the online sessions but I miss the in-person contact with colleagues from other institutions who are a major part of my professional support network”

All of these concerns are important and valid. We have to take them seriously and not pit them against each other. Presenting the future of conferencing as in-person vs. online is a false choice, because there is a hybrid model we can begin preparing the groundwork for today if we are serious about creating an equitable and sustainable profession.

Learning from the Nearly Carbon Neutral and Distributed Models

Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, a conference model called the Nearly Carbon Neutral (NCN) approach started circulating in humanities academic subdisciplines. The genesis for the first NCN conference in 2016 arose out of the recognition that academics who take long-haul flights even just a couple times a year for conferences incur significant carbon footprints. 

The original Nearly Carbon Neutral approach is very much based on a primarily online model of pre-recorded lectures with interactive Q&A, but subsequent iterations of the NCN model developed a local node distributed system: “sites of collective, face-to-face engagement with the virtual conference.” This was used for the 2018 conference of the Society for Cultural Anthropology (SCA). In their fascinating and comprehensive post-conference reflections post, the SCA organizers noted that their traditional biennial conference typically drew 200 mostly US attendees, but the distributed approach brought in over 1,300 people from 40 countries with 50 local gathering nodes. Due to the international level of participation, the conference organizers had to figure out how to schedule the sessions across time zone differences and create a web presence that could sustain 24/7 access needs. 

The SCA organizers ran some back of the envelope math about how much energy was saved from their 2018 experiment:

[A] conservative estimate of the environmental benefit of this experiment is about 425 tons of emissions saved. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, that’s about the same as 100 cars driven for a year. It’s like taking 11,500 cars off the road for the duration of the three-day conference. Go anthropologists!

A proposal for HACS: Hybrid Archives Conference Strategy

Archivists are already highly networked through existing local/state/regional groups, which provides us with fertile ground to experiment with a distributed/hybrid/decentralized conference model. While the local/state/regionals are independent from the Society of American Archivists, there have been efforts in recent years to develop some coordination among these organizations, most notably through the Regional Archival Associations Consortium (RAAC): 

The Regional Archival Associations Consortium (RAAC) provides a mechanism to connect the leadership of regional, multistate, state, and local archival organizations with each other and to the Society of American Archivists (SAA). RAAC seeks to facilitate information exchange and foster collaboration among these organizations. It offers formal channels to coordinate efforts intra-state, interstate, and with SAA which facilitate streamlining actions, reducing costs, and increasing services. 

A map of the continental US showing color-coded states belonging to archival associations

The regionals are a natural way to site nodes for a distributed and decentralized hybrid conference model. Let’s take a look at what the map of our regionals looks like right now. This is a little confusing, because some states are part of more than one regional organization, especially in the Conference of Inter-mountain Archivists and Society of Southwest Archivists (for example, New Mexico and Arizona are both part of SSA and CIMA), as well as the Mid-Atlantic Regional Archives Conference and Delaware Valley Archivists Group regions. But the tl;dr is that if a state in this map is colored in, it is part of one of the following 8 regional organizations:

  1. Conference of Inter-Mountain Archivists
  2. Midwest Archives Conference
  3. New England Archivists
  4. Society of Southwest Archivists
  5. Mid-Atlantic Regional Archives Conference
  6. Northwest Archivists
  7. Society of Rocky Mountain Archivists
  8. Delaware Valley Archivists Group

For our pilot conference model, let’s pick 10 node cities:

  1. Miami
  2. Boston
  3. Washington DC
  4. Chicago
  5. Dallas
  6. Salt Lake City
  7. Los Angeles
  8. Portland
  9. Atlanta
  10. Albuquerque

…if you draw a buffer of 350 miles out from every city, you can see how much of the country is covered.

A map of the continental US showing 10 node cities and a 350-mile buffer around them

If you want to noodle around with these maps, you can access a public version to play around with them. Note that not all of these nodes are within an existing regional organization, but every state that is not in a regional has its own state-level association. So for example, Miami, Atlanta, and Los Angeles would be respectively covered by the Society of Florida Archivists, Society of Georgia Archivists, and Society of California Archivists (again, for the non-archivists out there, even though all of these names sound suspiciously similar to “Society of American Archivists” they are all independent autonomous groups with no official subordinate relationship to the SAA). 

Any good pilot project deserves an acronym, so how about HACS: the Hybrid Archives Conference Strategy. It already sounds a lot like another acronym we’re already familiar with. There are infinite iterations you could come up with for a hybrid schedule, and the following is just one example. In our example, SAA and the regionals essentially combine forces into a 3-day hybrid conference.

My extremely half-baked ideas on some guiding principles:

  • Ideally, all nodes are roughly equivalent in terms of anticipated audience, registration costs, and programming offerings, though one may need to serve as the “command center” for technology purposes and hosting things where SAA staff may need to be on-site (e.g. Council meetings and the annual business meeting). This may need to be Chicago given that its where the SAA offices are headquartered. Care should be taken so that the command center doesn’t simply default to being the conference location everyone wants to go to and defeating the point of a distributed model.
  • Nodes should be located in cities that support multi-modal transportation, including rail. 
  • All nodes should offer on-site childcare. For more about the importance of childcare provision at archives conferences, please see “The Cost of Care and the Impact on the Archives Profession” by Braun Marks, Dreyer, Johnson and Sweetser.
  • Roughly half of the overall programming would be overseen by SAA (“national”) and half would be overseen by the state/regional organizations (“local”). A roughly equal mix of nationally-selected and locally-selected programming would be offered at each node.
  • Presentation proposals could be sent to either the national or a local program committee for consideration. Topics of a broad national interest should be sent to the national program committee, while institutional case studies or highly localized topics should be sent to a local program committee.
  • One challenge may be that a panel accepted by the national committee is more likely to have presenters from disparate regions. In this case, they may be encouraged to deliver their panel from the node closest to the majority of panelists or in special circumstances the panel itself may require hybrid delivery (half of the panelists in one location and half in another) or it may be a panel that is simply pre-recorded if the logistical concerns about getting everyone together are difficult to resolve.
  • Any content from official nodes should default to streaming & recording online with interactive Q&A at the end to accommodate remote viewers unless there are good reasons to keep it offline (for example, confidentiality concerns, workshops with significant hands-on work meant for small in-person groups, etc)
  • All conference registration will happen via nodes. Conference registration fees should be roughly similar at all nodes to incentivize minimal travel. In other words, you don’t want LA to be $400 and Albuquerque to be $50, because then more people might go to Albuquerque, thus defeating the point of a distributed model. This may require use of alternative non-hotel venues in some cities.
  • All nodes would have at least some rooms dedicated to streaming in panels from other nodes.
  • Anyone can register as a fully-remote viewer that enables access to all recorded sessions. Access to all recorded sessions will be automatically included in anyone who plans to attend via a node.
  • People may set up unofficial nodes outside of the official nodes for the purposes of increasing viewership and accessibility by using their remote viewer registration (notice in the second map that there are major parts of the Plains states that are not well-served by the hypothetical set of nodes). However if the unofficial node hosts more than a couple viewers, they will be strongly encouraged to make an additional donation to the closest node to them to support the technology investment required for content delivery. 
Day 1Day 2Day 3
Early AM: Local workshops and local governance meetings (for example, MAC’s business meeting)Early AM: Conference sessions (50% selected by local program committees, 50% by national program committee)Early AM: Conference sessions (100% selected by national program committee)
Late AM: Local workshops and local governance meetings (for example, MAC’s business meeting)Late AM: SAA PlenaryLate AM: SAA committee and section meetings
Early PM: Conference sessions (100% selected by local program committees)Early PM: SAA committee and section meetingsEarly PM: SAA annual business meeting
Late PM: Conference sessions (100% selected by local program committees)Late PM: Conference sessions (50% selected by local program committees, 50% by national program committeeLate PM: Conference sessions (100% selected by national program committee)

Some Concluding Thoughts

I know that inevitably some people will consider this and immediately ask “OK sounds cool but what about….?” I’m sure there are plenty of contingencies I haven’t considered. But I hope that all the reasons I’ve laid out for why we should try this are compelling enough to give it a try.

One very obvious challenge of putting together something like this is that there is less time for stuff, and inevitably a lot of things will get cut that normally wouldn’t happen in the status quo environment of more conference time (4ish days for SAA, 2-3 days for regionals). And honestly, after serving on numerous governance and programming committees, this should be thought of as a good thing. Not only do I think that our conferencing model is unsustainable, I also think the vast array of committees and sections and working groups that exist across our national and regional organizations are unsustainable. 

We archivists are very good at starting things, but we are very bad at letting things go. We can try to keep all of our conferences and organizations going at the same pace while finding fewer and fewer people each year who are willing to volunteer for new governance and conference planning roles. Worst case scenario, the institutions we work at will make that decision for us as our travel budgets are cut and our profession shrinks by attrition. Or we can avoid both of these less than ideal scenarios by preparing new ground to transform into something better than what we’ve always known. It is time to say goodbye to our old conferencing model, and begin preparing the ground for a much healthier, networked, and accessible conference culture.

Many thanks to Jenny Latessa in UC Libraries Research and Data Services for her explanation of how ArcGIS handles color-coding symbology.

Crumbs for our young

WELCOME TO 2020

Last month 52 archivists submitted a petition to add a third candidate for Vice President/President-Elect to the Society of American Archivists spring election ballot. It’s unclear if this has ever taken place before, but if it has, it certainly hasn’t in the last 30 years. I found out about the petition shortly before I walked to a neighborhood restaurant to eat dinner, and I walked down the street with such fury and live wire anger about what I just learned that it felt like I had jet fuel coursing through me. Over the course of the next couple days, as I revisited the petition, I kept seeing names of mentors and friends I hadn’t seen the first or second time, and soon I felt heartbroken.

I think I had more contact with more far-flung archivists in the couple days following the petition than I’ve ever had outside of a conference setting. All I could think over and over was, “52 of my colleagues – many of whom are highly networked, highly visible, mostly securely employed and some even retired, mostly white, and mostly older – indicated they don’t trust the current Nominating Committee.” I’m friends with the current Nominating Committee chair and have worked with her a lot on planning STAND forums. I’ve also been on Nominating Committee myself, having been elected in 2014 and having a front row seat to trying to build a good slate. So this petition landed very close.

But more than that, this was a slap in the face to the newer generation of SAA leadership, and a major turning point in an already escalating pattern of disconcerting decisions within SAA. My friends’ immediate reactions were to post smart things things or start fundraisers. The nominated candidates and NomCom shared their reactions. We ended up with yet another cringey hashtag. I wrestled with nights of bad sleep and rage-crying and shitposting so much on Facebook that at least a couple of my friends said “you seem really upset.” I did my best to check in frequently with others who I suspected felt similarly.

And then I began reaching out directly to some of the petitioners, women who throughout my career had shown me care and mentoring, to ask them what in the world they were thinking.

ON FEELING BETRAYED BY YOUR ELDERS

Last year I attended a week-long workshop on climate grief. Much of the workshop is based on the work of Joanna Macy, and it was pretty woo-woo in a way that I secretly love. One of the rituals we did was a grief circle. During my turn in the grief circle, I talked about a painful feeling I’ve grappled with for a long time, which is the acute sense that my elders have betrayed my generation. That after the environmental gains of the 1970s, the adults of the 1980s and 1990s and 2000s failed to collectively organize in order to protect my generation’s ability to enjoy clean air, clean water, and the diversity of animal and plant species around us, even though everyone knew about the dangers the year I was born, when James Hansen presented testimony to Congress on global warming in 1985.

The same week I was doing my climate grief ritual was also the same week of one of the more remarkable events of the early Trump presidency. A woman with a baby on her hip confronted Scott Pruitt at a restaurant about his destruction of the environment. I’m sure there were people around that woman who felt embarrassed by her witness, who thought that she was using her baby as a prop, who thought above all it was a display of incivility.

Scott Pruitt resigned a couple days later. Maybe he knew the mounting lawsuits were getting to him. Maybe he thought that being a grifter wasn’t all that he thought it would be. Who knows. But the symbolism of this young woman and this young child – two people who will inherit the earthly legacy of Pruitt and all of his cronies who make the world unlivable because it enriches them – was undeniable.


It is not easy to talk about feeling betrayed by your elders. The first problem is defining who our elders are. “Elders” is a squishy definitional category, and it is always contextual based on relationship. While many cultures have concepts of elder identity that are decoupled from linear time, I’m going to work with the more mainstream idea of defining elder status as a function of age. Elders are only elders in relationship to those younger around them. If a society solely existed of a single generation, would we still have the concept of elders?

The second problem is that similar to other generational cohorts, power and capital and visibility is not evenly distributed among our elders, and intragenerational records of hostility or support for social justice often reflects that (for example, older white men often have a legacy of making life a living hell for other people in their generational cohort, older women of color often have a legacy of pushing for the most meaningful changes in social justice).

But the biggest problem of talking about feeling betrayed by your elders is that doing so publicly invites phenomenal levels of defensiveness from people older than me. Whenever I have attempted to do so, I am met with the generational equivalent of “not all men!” What’s most bewildering is that this reaction is often strongest from older men and women I have been close with and really look up to, and so I’ve all but given up trying to talk about generational justice in public.

Ultimately, the politics of addressing climate change are shaped more strongly by the forces of capitalism and international relations. Clearly, millions of people of all generations are profiting from climate change, or are trying to mitigate the worst of climate change, and will be impacted by climate change.

But climate change is also unique compared to other issues of social justice in that it has a clear time-based “point of no return” for ecological systems that makes the stakes of generational (ir)responsibility particularly stark. And that’s where my sense of betrayal kicks in. It’s been clear for decades that the best time to do something was 30 years ago. The next best time is now. And if we don’t do something in the immediate future to decarbonize, the future will be very unpredictable for future generations. Both 30 years ago and now, older generations than mine had the most capacity to do something at the most opportune time to slow down climate change. Their abject failure to do so has created a much more difficult and frankly existential problem for my generation and future ones to live with. And the older generation will likely leave the Earth before they have to suffer the worst effects of it.

I often hear from my elders that my generation does not respect what they sacrificed, does not understand they faced similar challenges of political resistance, and do not appreciate the gains they made for us. (For the rest of this essay, please assume that when I talk about “my elders” I mean the mirrors of people who share my demographics: white and middle class.) This is defensiveness talking, and it’s completely deflated when you actually spend more than 5 minutes looking at leftist millennial culture. Bernie Sanders is the oldest man running for president, but he has such strong support among young people because he speaks directly to our concerns. Almost no one in my generation remembers Jane Fonda from her Vietnam War era activism or exercise videos or marriage to Ted Turner, but they love seeing her arrested because she speaks directly to our concerns. Young activists have revived the memories of people like Marsha P. Johnson because their legacy speaks to our concerns. The song “Solidarity Forever” which was written decades ago is seeing an unprecedented revival at socialist gatherings because it speaks directly to our concerns.

For a long time, my feeling of generational betrayal was mostly quarantined to the issue of climate change. But seeing that SAA election petition and the age distribution of those on it made me feel that the generational betrayal was trickling outwards, from climate change into my profession. Because as long as I’ve been in the profession, we have had warnings that there was a short window in which we could at least attempt to prioritize the needs of the younger generation and speak directly to their concerns and make a healthier world for all of us, or we could keep doing the same things that got us to this tenuous place.

THE LAST DECADE

Ten years ago I attended my first annual meeting of the Society of American Archivists. It was 2010, and it was in Washington DC. I don’t remember if I had any conference funding but I definitely remember staying in a youth hostel in Washington DC because I definitely could not afford a hotel. I was making around $20,000 a year.

A few months after that conference were two pivotal milestones in the discourse around the work and professional identity of archivists. Rebecca Goldman, an archivist known for making webcomics about archives, created her post-SAA Howl post that spoke to the concerns of many of the younger and more precariously-employed folks at the conference that year. And then Maureen Callahan launched the You Ought To Be Ashamed collectively-authored blog (with the URL “Eating Our Young”) to discuss and shame shitty archivist job advertisements. Rebecca Goldman led the efforts to organize the Students and New Archives Professionals roundtable (which later became a section). For those of you who missed this the first time around, it’s worth going through and reading the posts because it’s pretty stunning how much archival labor precarity was being discussed years ago, and how clueless the leadership of SAA was. Although it’s rarely referenced in the blog posts, the larger cultural context at the time included Occupy Wall Street, which no doubt was influencing some of our perspectives.

After SNAP was established in early 2012, another major turning point was controversy over the use of volunteers in archives. At the 2013 conference in New Orleans, then-President Jackie Dooley addressing the issue of archivist precarity in her plenary address (pdf version). The address, titled “Feeding Our Young,” provoked some strong reactions, and by this time, archivist twitter was a lot more of a vocal force than it was in 2010. As a result there were some strong real-time backchannel responses. Following Jackie’s plenary, Council took up the issue of internship practices. Several years later SAA made the decision to only post paid internship advertisements.

By this time, it was starting to become clear that the response of SAA’s leadership to the crisis of well-compensated archival labor was wholly organized around individual responses – after all, guidelines and best practices are voluntary and not enforceable. One thought experiment I like to occasionally entertain is whether if archival leaders had followed through with some of the fleeting discussions in the 1970s about unionization or the 1980s about institutional accreditation, SAA theoretically would have the foundation to issue some kind of sanctions – even if only symbolically – against institutions. It’s great if you mentor students and new professionals or donate to scholarship funds, but it’s not on par with systematic and collective changes that help everyone – especially archivists who may not fit the mold of a potential mentee.

In response to a 2014 notice from SAA leadership that they were definitely still talking about employment, I suggested that SAA should immediately implement a comprehensive regular salary survey, investigate salary improvement mechanisms tried by other similar associations, and explore accreditation standards as a way of improving employment for archivists. A year later, I did some quick math following the annual business meeting about a proposed dues change and then got 52 people (a far more diverse and young group than the more infamous and recent group of 52) to sign on to a letter calling for SAA to make the dues structure truly progressive. SAA didn’t create a truly progressive dues structure, though they did implement a new higher-income dues category.

This is just scratching the surface of what was happening with SAA governance in the 2010s. In addition to the question of employment, internships, volunteers, and salaries, another issue during the 2010s was the shutting down of “that darn list” aka the A&A listserv. Incidents of transphobia and intimidation by right-wing media happened in connection with our annual meeting. At two annual meetings in a row I was subjected to harassment by two different male members of the profession (one incident I reported in accordance with the code of conduct, one I did not. I was happy with the way the reported incident was handled with care and attention by SAA staff).

WAKE UP CALL PART INFINITY

My faith teaches me that listening is an integral part of conflict resolution. My politics teaches me that power is rarely shared or relinquished without protracted struggle. Both my faith and my politics teach me the importance of telling the truth.

The truth is that the Society of American Archivists is failing to meet the needs of younger and more precarious and marginalized archivists – and much of this failure is institutionalized by our reliance on managerialism and business leadership thinking, our obsequiousness to “experience,” and an association budget model that relies on stable salaries and institutional funding which fewer and fewer archivists have. Perhaps this massive failure of care was easier to ignore in the past (though I tried to warn y’all back in 2014) but it’s no longer tenable to keep doing so if the association is going to survive. To paraphrase a sentiment on a recent conference call: “SAA can afford to lose people close to retirement. It cannot afford to lose people just beginning their careers.”

The day after the petition came out, I sent off this email to Council:

Hello colleagues:

I am writing to express my increasing alarm at a series of events that have recently taken place within SAA’s elected leadership. This concern involves what the organization is doing to prioritize the needs and leadership of early-career, precarious (underpaid and/or temporary), and/or underrepresented archivists. I believe that the significant declines in membership levels under $50k can partially be explained by an association that is failing to meet the needs of these groups. I am writing this from the perspective of someone who has been active in the organization for over a decade. Among my SAA roles, I have served as a student chapter president, a member of the Communications Task Force, member of the Nominating Committee, chair of the Records Management Section, and current member of the Committee on Public Policy. 

SAA has been an instrumental part of my professional development, and it is vitally important to me that it continues to be a healthy professional association so that other archivists may benefit from it in the way that I have. I am very worried that if SAA does not prioritize the needs of archivists who are early-career, experiencing precarity, or underrepresented, it is at risk of sowing the seeds of its own demise and irrelevancy.

I am organizing some of my concerns for public sharing via my website (which I have done previously before on SAA dues structures and the Frank Boles preprint). Before I put out anything out, I want to get as many of your perspectives as possible on the questions below. I am deeply aware of how difficult and thankless professional association work is, and this is why I wanted to reach out to you first.

Please forgive the length of this email. If it’s easier for you to share your thoughts via phone I am more than willing to set up a call. I am currently out of the office this month on sabbatical, but despite any auto-reply you might receive, know that I am still checking my email.

Dues structure

With the membership report that “Calendar year 2019 has seen the largest decline in membership in SAA’s history” it is worth noting that the majority of the loss in membership is in membership bands below $59k – a loss of 261 members. There has been only an increase of 50 members in upper bands (more than $60k salary), so a transfer of lower-income members to higher-income member levels cannot account for more than perhaps a handful of losses in the lower bands. In other words it seems that these lower band declines are “total losses.” 

More than 50 of my colleagues and I raised concerns in 2015 over the dues structure. I again disagree with SAA’s claim that its dues structure is currently progressive when it in fact is regressive despite the tiered dues structure (although lower-income members pay a smaller dollar amount, they pay a higher overall percentage of take-home income as dues). I strongly object to the potential option of flattening the dues structure without an analysis of likely effects on lower-income bands. This has the potential to be an even more regressive step and depending on the price point, perhaps lead to even further losses of membership dues at the lower bands. 

There is nothing unusual about tiered income-level dues membership for a professional association. Given that our membership works across various sectors for which there is no comparable professional development funding structure, let alone salary scales, it seems that retaining an income-level dues structure is the fairest way to ensure that poorer members are not subsidizing the costs of wealthier members who can and should pay more in dues. 

Is Council developing an outreach plan to former members to determine why we have experienced such a drop-off in dues membership, particularly at the lower levels? If dues affordability is an issue, then this is critical information necessary for reconsidering dues. 

Has SAA undertaken a comparable dues comparison to other similarly-sized professional associations? How is the information derived from the 2017 WArS salary survey being used to inform membership dues discussions? According to the salary survey (pages 15 and 16), approximately 920 respondents made a salary of $59,999 or less. 777 respondents make $60,000 or more. In other words, membership level declines are only happening around the lower half of archivist salary ranges. No further discussion of membership dues should take place unless it prioritizes the needs of archivists making less than $59k a year, especially as early career and precarious (i.e. temporary or underpaid) archivists are far more likely to be represented in this group. 

Salary transparency

I strongly oppose the recent decision of SAA to defer decisive action on mandatory salary disclosures in job ad postings that so many regional and specialized archival associations have already taken. An incentive does not send as strong of a signal as a complete ban on ads without salary disclosures. Why is SAA deferring to the preferences of employers, who often wish to obscure their salaries? SAA has few enforcement mechanisms for standards across the profession, but it has failed to seize this opportunity to make a meaningful action by being the largest association to back salary disclosure requirements. 

I would like to know why SAA’s leadership did not choose to make salary disclosure mandatory, and why it has effectively chosen to side with the only group that benefits from salary obscurity – management. Obscurity of salaries puts job seekers into an unfair position. If SAA is worried about the loss of income given its understandable budget concerns, then information about advertisements as a source of income should be included in these discussions.

Recent ballot changes and elections

As a former member of Nominating Committee, I know first-hand how much work the Nominating Committee puts into crafting a slate based on a list of nominations provided to NomCom and NomCom’s own professional networks. This work is monumental, considering that asking already busy individuals to dedicate a significant part of the next 1-3 years of their life to unpaid service work is not an easy task. I understand that the recent ballot change caused by the petition on behalf of Kris Kiesling is in accordance with the bylaws, and that Council does not have any formally-defined obligations concerning this situation. With this in mind, I want to register my deep concern that this petition has so many former SAA council members, presidents, and fellows as petitioners. 

The fact that so many former SAA leaders signed off on such a petition has given me the impression that many of them do not trust the decision-making process of the current Nominating Committee. This is a very serious proxy signal for leaders of the profession to take, and frankly it is disappointing as no statement has been issued along with the petition about why such an unprecedented action was taken. 

I will be blunt: seeing a petition of 50+ signatures primarily composed of long-time members who share close network ties with one another as well as many demographic characteristics (mostly older, mostly white, and many of whom do not have recent employment experiences of short-term project positions) only adds to my concern that SAA is sliding into a posture that is more concerned with gatekeeping than it is with expanding the scope and reach of SAA’s leadership capacity. I hope that this catalyzes a larger discussion within our elected leadership about how this is only just the latest event in a series that has made many members question whether SAA is an association they can contribute to their talents to, particularly if they do not fit the mold of previous leaders.

Finally, I have retained a concern since serving on Nominating Committee about the low turnout of the elections. I would like to request that Council investigate the possibility of whether the election service provider is capable of providing turnout data that an appropriate body (Council, the Membership Committee, or the new Committee on Research, Data, and Assessment) might use to inform the membership of anonymized voting trends, akin to exit polls used in civic elections. For example, what would the cast ballot distribution look like across membership dues levels? This data may help inform where to target “voter outreach efforts” to achieve higher turnout in future elections. An example may be finding that student members rarely cast ballots – in which case, a voter outreach effort might be undertaken to SAA student chapters and SNAP.

Thank you for your service, and for your patience in reading this long email. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

TALKING TO THE PETITIONERS

Over the course of the rest of January, I had in-depth conversations with five of the 52 petitioners. All the conversations lasted at least a half hour, some even went for close to an hour. The reasons people gave for signing the petition were wide-ranging, and the reactions of people I spoke to varied from some sense of regret to utter bafflement that anyone would be angry to complete defensiveness.

But the common thread I found across the petitioners I spoke with was that they rarely connected their signing of the petition as the latest link in a chain of events that has been highly discouraging for those of us trying to make a more inclusive and worker-friendly SAA. All of the petitioners I spoke with were completely unaware of the massive drop-off in members under $59k. Almost no one had been following the most recent developments in the salary transparency issue. And a couple didn’t even realize the extent of the Frank Boles preprint disaster, because they had consciously stepped away from SAA work for several months.

Another common theme among most of the petitioners I spoke with was many mentioned their deliberate choice to ignore social media conversations around the profession. While I am very sympathetic to unplugging from social media, and retain some of the concerns I’ve had for years about moving online conversations to interpersonal dialogue, the undeniable reality is that enormous expanses of archivist professional conversations continue to take place on twitter.

There is something a little weird and borderline anti-intellectual about refusing to acknowledge the conversations other people in your field are having, even if you aren’t an active participant (and as a personal note, this is partly why even though I’ll never join twitter again as myself, I do tweet occasionally behind the scenes for projectARCC because it’s such an easy way to reach tons of archivists). This is not to imply that one can only be aware of professional discourse if they’re visible on social media (again: logging off is a good thing), but I hope folks recognize that if you’re deliberately avoiding archivist social media discussions on a permanent basis (or don’t ask for occasional updates from those who follow the discourse), it means you’re also going to be clueless about what many archivists think about the state of the profession.

Perhaps what angers me more than the failure of my archival elders to pull their weight for the next generation was their failure to be good archivists. Archivists claim our bread and butter is context, that the records we preserve fill in the contextual background noise of society at a given time, and that one of the most important professional acts an archivist can perform is to contextualize records within the setting and function for which they were originally created.

Gerry Ham famously wrote, “Our most important and intellectually demanding task as archivists is to make an informed selection of information that will provide the future with a representative record of human experience in our time. But why must we do it so badly?” Since 1975 we figured out things like collection surveys and rethinking appraisal. But what we have not reckoned with is how we’re going to acquire a representative record of society if early career archivists are leaving the profession because of a systematic failure to advocate for their interests. This is the most important form of context we need to be talking about in the archival profession right now: without a workforce of well-compensated archivists, the archival record is endangered (open access).

It is scandalous and professional malpractice that our archival elders have not shored up the shaky foundations for new archivists to launch their careers. When even that bastion of legendary left-wing economic thought, the Federal Reserve, recognizes that student loan debt among millennials is double that of Gen X, and yet our professional association has never seriously adopted student loan debt as a professional concern (a concern that contextualizes the careers of more than half of millennials with a master’s degree), something is very deeply broken. I don’t know where SAA goes from here, but if we don’t immediately address the losses of younger, poorer, and marginalized archivists by prioritizing their needs instead of continuing to follow the road towards managerialism that Archie Motley warned us about in 1984, things are only going to get worse.

BREAD AND ROSES

I’m so tired of continuing to point out to those who have been in the profession longer than myself that dismissiveness of younger archivists’ concerns is a very real problem within the association. I’ve been trying to sound this alarm for years, and at over a decade in the profession I can’t believe I’m saying the same thing over and over for so long.

When I was going back and looking at some of these old posts, I found what I’m 99.9% sure was an anonymous comment from myself on the Howl post in 2010: “Although I know I got where I am by a large amount of hustle, hard work, and knowing the right people, I also realize that a lot of what separates me from an unpaid internship is just dumb luck. It sucks. […] I don’t know what the solution is, or if there is one, but bravo for this conversation taking place and may it continue on until the whole profession recognizes what we’re going through.”

In 2014 I said, “The archival record is only as good as the archivists charged to care for it. Archivists who are told their voices are not worth listening to because they are new will have difficulties developing into the thoughtful leaders we need. And we desperately need to grow these leaders to fight for the continued survival of our profession and our institutions.”

How often do the long-established members of our profession need to be warned about their inattention to new members needs until the profession falls apart? How many more wake up calls do we need? I’m not joking. I’m entirely fucking serious. And if you think I’m being dramatic, then I’m guessing you’ve never worried about student loan debt or working near the poverty line anytime in the last decade.

Shortly after the SNAP roundtable formed, I helped organize something called “lunch buddies” which tried to match up a lunch or dinner or coffee host with SNAP members. Despite requests for participation being sent to the SAA Leaders listserv, older and more established archivists rarely showed up in significant numbers to help out and host a lunch or breakfast outing for this newly established section of young and early career archivists.

If you aren’t even willing to host lunch with the next generation, don’t be surprised when they grow up to tell you that the individual crumbs you offered are no match for societal starvation.

Peer review for archivists (or, WTF is going on with this SAA pre-print)

One of the many things that library school did not prepare me for was how to do effective peer review. The economics of peer review is that the more you write, the more you get asked to read other people’s work, either informally or formally (I define informally as when a friend or acquaintance asks me to look at something, formally is when a third-party like an editor asks me). As I’ve been reviewing more and stepping into some temporary editorial roles, it’s made me wish there was better guidance for archivists how to do peer review. I’ve often thought about how I could turn one of my reviewer or editor’s reports into a tutorial, but that would be a major breach of confidentiality. However, a timely event that shows how important peer review is just presented itself days before the Society of American Archivists annual meeting in Austin.

As I was packing for the trip to Texas, a friend tipped me off that the big chatter on Archivist Twitter was Frank Boles’ pre-print in American Archivist. The pre-print will be the subject of a lunch time discussion forum at the annual meeting. Having some skepticism about Twitter in general, I decided to print off Boles’ article and tuck it into my luggage to read and draw my own conclusions on the road down.

As full disclosure, the only thing I’ve published so far in American Archivist (AA) is a book review. I’ve been emailing with the current managing editor Cal Lee about something I’m thinking of submitting. And on the other side of the process, I have done peer review for the journal. I was recently asked to review another article a few days ago but turned it down only because I couldn’t make the timeline with other obligations. I know first hand how difficult it is to get good reviewers (“good” meaning both competent and reliable for meeting deadlines for reviewer reports), so I informed Cal right away. I do not know much about the internal workings of the AA editorial board.

In brief: if I were a peer reviewer for this piece, I would have recommended such drastic changes that I would have hoped the submission would not have gotten any further through the editorial process in its current state. Boles’ writing has serious issues and some alarming conclusions, but equally vexing is what happened with the editorial process and how this piece got this far.

I pulled my reviewer report from when I last reviewed for AA summer 2018. I am not sure if the reviewer form is still the same, but here is the report I would have written if the Boles piece were sent to me for review. I hope this helps those who aren’t familiar with the peer review process understand how a good peer review should prevent things like Boles’ article from ever getting this far. I might do a follow-up blog post talking about tips for peer review – if you want me to address anything specific in a follow-up post, let me know.

Reviewer comments for “To Everything There Is a Season”

Statement of Problem of Purpose (the theoretical or practical problem or challenge):
This articles proposes that there are three interlocking ideas that have predominated archival discourse in recent years: universal documentation, the role of social justice in archival appraisal, and the construction of archival power. The author argues that these ideas are counterproductive and proposes that archivists should answer first to the needs of their institution.

Relevance of the Topic (to the mission and purpose of the journal):
The theory and application of social justice to archives has been a topic of intense archival discourse, both within this journal and elsewhere within the larger archival profession. Topics of documentation methodologies and archival power have also been present in the journal.

Importance of the Topic (advancing thought on archival principles and practices):
This article represents a sweeping critique of several ideas that the author claims are connected, and are hurting archival practice. Some of these ideas – especially archival power and the application of social justice to appraisal – have been the sources of significant professional arguments over the last several years. The author drew on some of these past critiques in constructing their argument.

“Social responsibility” and other related ideas are part of the SAA Core Values, and a large number of archivists take it for granted that these are implicitly good things. A well constructed counter-argument can serve an important purpose in clarifying the shared norms around implicit values. However, a counter-argument is only as strong as it shows deep familiarity with the material it is critiquing. Counter-arguments must also not lapse into caricatures or superficial treatments of topics that a community deem to be of significant importance. Despite the importance of the topic and the useful role that counter-arguments can play, I do not believe this submission is a successfully constructed counter-argument, for reasons I will articulate through this report.

Contribution to the Literature (original contributions to the literature):
I have significant concerns about whether this article actually advances the point-counterpoint discourse that is an inherent part of any long-standing academic debate. This piece does not demonstrate a comprehensive grasp of either the published literature of archival social justice or the practical applications of it through current archival projects. In order to properly critique something, one needs to be familiar with the norms, literature, and standards of a particular community. My sense from reading this article was that the author has a very superficial understanding of the theory and application of the ideas they critique. Trying to bring together three somewhat related but ultimately independent ideas into one large critique means there is not enough space to engage in a meaningful dissection of each idea.

The author is often overly-reliant on the writings and ideas of others to make their argument for them. This muddies any claims of originality, since as the author points out, they are not the first to raise some of these concerns. While building on the ideas of others is normal, it is not clear what additional original research was added. For example, if the author had reviewed a selection of institutional collection development policies over the last 30 years to determine how social justice had impacted collection decisions, this would be a highly original contribution to the research.

In addition, the author is often reliant on straw man and slippery slope arguments. There are many, but I include two examples here. First, on pages 4-5 the author claims that other archivists have called for a complete and universal “documentary mirror” but have not acknowledged the challenges of doing so. This is not accurate, as many archivists who have called for us to challenge our approaches to collection and appraisal have also acknowledged that (to paraphrase Verne Harris), archives are but a sliver of a sliver. Another example appears on page 11, when the author presents a hypothetical scenario about whether the profession would embrace one set of social beliefs over another, pass a resolution at an SAA annual meeting, and potentially call into question the professional status of archivists who refuse to go along. This is a slippery slope argument because SAA is not a professional regulatory or licensure body similar to a bar or medical association, and has no power to materially sanction archivists who may disagree with prevailing norms.

Perhaps the greatest weakness that obscures how the author situates themselves in the existing discourse is that the author does not provide their own definition of social justice or power. Social justice is a term that is subject to a variety of different interpretations, and I suspect many individuals who are uncomfortable with the connotations of social justice and its historical associations with left-wing activism would be in agreement with at least some claims typically associated with social justice, particularly if they were presented under a different moniker. These include ideas like how societal power is not equally distributed and there are historical factors for this, or that accountability is not meted out equally. Because the author never defines what social justice or power means to them, as a reader I was left wondering if social justice simply means everything the author disagrees with.

Organization (of ideas and supporting points):
There are four main sections of this paper: the critique of universal documentation, the critique of social justice as a factor in appraisal, the critique of archival power, and a conclusion. The conclusion closes with three recommendations for where archivists should shift their attention instead. Many of these recommendations raise their own questions of relevance, application, and morality. However, the author devotes less than a page to these recommendations.

Drawing and Building Upon Relevant Literature (summary of the major points in the relevant literature):
This article does not demonstrate significant familiarity with existing archival literature, as well as practical applications of these ideas currently in existence, particularly those of social justice-influenced archival projects. In the critique of universal documentation, I would have expected to see a meaningful treatment of Helen Samuel’s documentation strategy work, and a consideration of the many projects since then that have built on documentation strategy (particularly those that exist outside of institutional constraints), such as the South Asian American Digital Archive, a People’s Archive of Police Violence, Documenting the Now, or Student Activism Now Documented (STAND). Also, the Levy Report of the 1980s is a touchstone for any discussion about the challenges of funding for archival operations, and the author should consider referencing this.

I also found that the author often made claims about the outlooks of certain authors without demonstrating a meaningful engagement with their work, relying instead on cherry-picked quotes. For example, regarding Christopher Hurley’s work, the author claims “Expressed somewhat differently, the approach to appraisal Hurley suggests is overly oriented toward bureaucracy and records management. In taking a narrow records management approach toward institutional records, Hurley carries forward without nuance the original purpose for which records are created.” This is a very strange interpretation of Christopher Hurley’s 2001 address to the ACA, which specifically delved into the role that accountability plays in government archives, and how governmental records mean different things for different groups. One of the major examples he used in his talk was the existence of British government records concerning Stalinist Russia and how these records were used in a lawsuit, but their disappearance impacted legal proceedings.

In addition to the cherry-picked sources, the author often has fairly questionable sources – for example, a reference to a conversation at a bar several decades ago (endnote #7) might be interesting in the context of a personal essay but is not an appropriate reference for a reviewed publication.

Methodology:
It is not clear to me whether this piece was submitted as a research article, a case study, or a perspective. I assume based on the length it was either a research article or case study. The author does not share a methodology for their critique, nor does the author provide any clear reasoning for why they chose the sources they did. In a well-constructed critique that relies mainly on existing literature, I would have expected to see something like “In reviewing articles published in the American Archivist over the last two decades, [number] of articles have been published concerning social justice and archives. This article will consider those that received the highest citations since 2000.” This would have demonstrated why they chose the sources they did – but without any clues, the reader is left with the impression that the author arbitrarily picked the pieces that most closely matched their pre-existing ideas.

Discussion (develops major points with relevant evidence and solid reasoning):
The discussion is mainly embedded within the three critiques that structure the majority of the submission. The first critique the author offers mainly relies on thinly sourced claims and the assertion that universal documentation is both a widely embraced value and unrealistic due to resource constraints. This is a very short section of the manuscript, particularly given the breadth of work on how many archivists have written about their collection strategies in light of constrained resources. It is curious that the author claims that “archivists have failed to answer fundamental questions” as many archivists have written quite a bit about documentation strategy, and much of the discourse around post-custodial community archives explicitly touches on the creation of these archives in the face of institutional resource challenges.

The second critique concerns social justice and archives. In this section, the author draws on work by Michelle Caswell, Mario Ramirez, Christopher Hurley, Verne Harris, Rand Jimerson, and Mark Greene. The author then considers that norms about what is considered moral are subject to change, by exploring historical and current attitudes to slavery, prohibition of alcohol, and abortion. This section read far more like a distracting digression, because the author never connected how changing social norms around what is considered acceptable or moral should actually influence appraisal decisions. The claim that social norms are constantly changing is not in itself an argument against incorporating social justice into appraisal decisions. The author does not provide any concrete evidence of actual collecting decisions made by archivists to substantiate their claims that social justice is an inappropriate appraisal factor.

The critique of archival power draws largely on Rand Jimerson’s work, and then uses Christine George’s article about archival privilege as a case study. Unlike the first two critiques, the structure of this critique is improved by a) not trying to cover too much material at once and b) actually demonstrating the consequences of the idea that the archivist is critiquing.

Overall, author seems prone to false equivalencies that undermine many of their arguments. For example, equating stereotypes of young black men with older white men ignores the fact that stereotypes of young black men are contributing factors to disproportionate uses of state-sanctioned forms of control (whether from law enforcement or incarceration). While stereotyping may be unfair to older white men, it does not result in the same potential material consequences.

Conclusion (conclusion with justification from evidence presented):
I found the author’s conclusion to raise so many questions and concerns that I think if they are serious about their conclusions they should have led with them first. The claim that archivists should serve their institutions first and foremost, even under questionable circumstances, is an alarming conclusion to draw. As many scholars from other fields have pointed out, simply “following orders” is not consistent with many established legal frameworks. If the institution ordered archivists and records managers to destroy records in violation of state or federal records laws, would the author still make the claim that archivists are to “implement an institutional mission fully and well”?

The author needs to deeply consider the implications of the claim that archivists should take their main directives from an institution’s mission for three reasons. First, in many cases archivists have and exercise far more agency over institutional documentary missions than the author suggests. Archivists are often responsible for implementing institutional records management decisions, and collection development policies. Second, if non-archivist led institutional missions should override the expertise of archivists and professional practice norms, then one might ask – why even have a professional association of archivists? Very few other professions would comport themselves with such total deference to an institution’s needs. Doctors may work in hospitals run by healthcare administrators, but it is not healthcare administrators who are directly responsible for treating patients and exercising medical judgement. Faculty may work in universities managed by higher education administrators, but faculty maintain significant curricular control as part of their disciplinary expertise.

Indeed, institutional missions are often at significant odds with professional standards of practice. To use a current example, federal environmental agency scientists are increasingly finding that their work using standardized scientific norms and practices are being curtailed by political appointees. Rather than ceding ground to non-scientists, many are now resigning rather than compromising scientific integrity that changes with shifts from top management. Those unable to resign due to economic circumstances are finding other routes through union representation, anonymous tips to journalists, or whistleblowing to register their concerns. If archivists are to maintain professional integrity and standards – and most scholars of professions would argue are defined by professional norms, not institutional interests – I would hope archivists put into similar situations by their institutions would either resign or find ways to become a whistleblower or otherwise throw sand in the gears.

Mechanics (errors in usage, spelling, punctuation, and reference format):
The submission is largely free from any punctuation or spelling errors. One area of confusion is the reference to the judge in 1986 on page 15. It seems clear from reading this is a reference to the 1986 court case involving access to civil rights activist Anne Braden’s papers, though the author includes the example in such a way that implies it might have concerned the IRA oral histories case.

Additional blind comments to author:
I recommend narrowing the focus in this paper to just one issue to critique. Currently there is too much going on here to make an effective well-connected counter-argument. The treatments of the three issues seem superficial and the interpretations seem based on personal hunches and slippery slope arguments as opposed to evidence-based findings to support your analysis. Any counter-argument to widely-embraced community values needs to demonstrate a strong grasp of familiarity with how these values came about. I strongly recommend reading additional sources about documentation strategy, and current social justice archives projects such as Documenting the Now. Any claims that widely-shared norms are actually harmful need to be substantiated by evidence, not hypothetical situations.

If you feel strongly about your conclusions, you may wish to reorganize the paper to lead with these first, and show evidence for why you think these should be prevailing interests over the ones you critique.

Additional confidential comments to editor:
While I think there are legitimate counter-arguments to make regarding recent archival social justice discourse, I do not think this article in its current state meets that threshold. For any further consideration, it would need such significant and major revisions that it would be an almost completely different paper.

I found much of the tone of this submission to be needlessly provocative, such as endnotes #10 and #35. In many ways this submission read as a personal diatribe disguised as a journal article than an actual meaningful contribution to define the limitations of archival social justice. The topics the author raises are important ones and deserve to be treated both with care and professional due diligence. It does not seem like either consideration was a priority in the writing of this submission.

Professionals Without Professionalism, Part 2

Part Two: Or, the landscape of archivist professional dialogue (Part One here)

Perhaps the most disconcerting thing about the announcement of the #thatdarnlist shutdown wasn’t the rampant denialism of longstanding problems, but the fact that a lot of A&A subscribers seemed to be genuinely baffled about where to find information about the archives profession after the list is shut down at the end of 2017.

Archivists are information professionals. That a bunch of information professionals are melting down about where to find professional information is truly bewildering. Or as Matt Francis put it:

Seriously, y’all.

So as an act of public service (you can and should thank me for this labor by buying me a beer the next time you see me) here are some of my recommendations for “How to be a professionally conversant American archivist in 2017”. This isn’t meant to be an exhaustive list, but it is fairly reflective of the way that I consume professional content. I tend to focus on the American archives profession, and I hope readers will contribute non-US suggestions in the comments.

I can already hear someone howling “but I don’t have tiiiiiiiiiiiiiime to review all these sources.” If you want to be treated like a professional, you need to act like it, and that means being conversant with the ongoing conversations in your profession. No one is saying you have to read everything, but you have to pay attention to something on at least a semi-regular basis, or else quit calling yourself an archivist. I have Additional Strong Feelings about this that I’ll save for Part 3.

Peer-Reviewed Literature

Why you should pay attention to it: Even with peer reviewing’s myriad nonsense (and there is so much, but trust me when I say it’s a million times worse outside of the archives profession), there is no substitute for a process that allows people to call you out on your bullshit. I sometimes see questionable assertions (aka hot takes) by archivists bubble up on social media or blogs that I know would not last through peer review if the person had to marshal evidence for their claim. At its best, peer-reviewed literature can have long-lasting impacts on practice (Greene and Meissner!), provide inspirational reading that feels as relevant today as it did when it came out decades ago (Gerry Ham!), and provide a clear ethical framework for moving our work forward (Michelle Caswell!)

My favorite resources: Many of you might know I created an entire calendar assigning reading days to prominent journals in the field. Since I originally created it for the type of reading I need to do for my work, it skews heavily towards American archives and academic libraries. It’s due for an overhaul, but I think it’s a handy tool and I’m always delighted to hear other people find it useful. (github version if you want to adapt for your own needs)

Blogs

Why you should pay attention to it: Blogs occupy that nice space between needing to say more than can be said via social media, but with greater immediacy and casualness than peer review demands. Within archives-land, there are repositories that have blogs, there are archival organizations that have blogs, and there are archivists that have blogs. A lot of the prominent archivist blogs from several years ago are far quieter these days (ArchivesNext, You Ought to Be Ashamed, Chaos->Order) which is a bummer. Those blogs were sites of incredible archivist dialogue, and I sort of miss blog comment-oriented discourse.

Individual archivist blogs are a gold-mine, since many of us tend to put up copies of conference talks (which often never get published elsewhere). If you’re an archivist who does talks and you don’t have your own blog, please put something up so we can share your work and give your conference talks a second life!

My favorite resources:

Social Media

Why you should pay attention to it: Social media – and especially Twitter – is often scapegoated whenever discussions about A&A come up. I think this is unfair, because it tends to erase how useful it can be, particularly given the exodus of many archivists from listservs to Twitter. I have as much of a love/hate relationship with social media as the next person, but I think there is an undeniable amount of fantastic knowledge you can pick up from Twitter. Speaking only for myself, Twitter has helped me find professional development workshops, calls for papers, interesting conferences, and a good sounding board for “Has anyone ever….?” questions.

The free-for-all nature of Twitter is part of why it’s an environment so prone to hostility, but the fact that it isn’t a walled garden also helps make it a very interdisciplinary experience. I’ve discovered the work of a lot of environmental studies people through it that otherwise would have been far more difficult to find via other avenues. Social media deservedly gets a lot of flak for enabling a build-your-own-echo-chamber space. At the same time, I don’t think Twitter gets enough credit for fostering the ability to easily find voices you might not normally encounter. My work has been undeniably improved by listening to many voices on Twitter from marginalized groups that often are not represented in peer-reviewed publications, as conference headliners, etc.

Because Facebook is a walled garden, it lacks both the best-of and worst-of Twitter experiences. And I think the jury is still out on mastodon – I have an account on scholar.social, and there are a few archivists there, but it doesn’t yet feel like a critical mass.

My favorite resources: I know there are a lot of archivists and archival organizations active on Facebook, but for my money (well, time) Twitter is where I’ve gotten the most value. Almost all of the bloggers mentioned above are active or semi-active on Twitter, and are great people to follow. If you’re not currently active on archivist Twitter and want to give it a try, I think a good time to dive in is during conferences, when you can use conference hashtags to quickly identify interesting users. Some archivists on Twitter only talk about archives, some talk mostly about their personal interests, and others fall somewhere in the middle. Lots of people maintain lists of archivists on Twitter (like Kate Theimer’s  list) which is a quick way to follow lots of users at once.

Podcasts

Why you should pay attention to it: Alright, let me say out of the gate that this is a thin area at the moment, and I really hope we start seeing more archives podcasts. There is a lot to be said for non-textual mediums as sources of learning new things. At MAC 2017, there was a great session about podcasting, though it was more of a “archives doing podcasts about their holdings” than an “archivists doing podcasts about the profession” vibe.

What are my favorite resources: It’s no longer active, but there was a good podcast running for a brief period between 2013-2014 called More Podcast Less Process. Lost in the Stacks is a radio show hosted by librarians and archivists from the Georgia Tech Library, and they also distribute the show as a podcast. There are rumors that the reviews folks over at American Archivist are working on a podcast, and I am super pumped to see what they come up with.

What’s Next?

I have a long wish list for the archivist information & professional discourse ecosystem. Who knows if it will all ever be realized, but it’s fun to speculate. Look for that in Part 3!

Professionals Without Professionalism, Part 1

The big talk of the town right now within the American archivist profession is that a major listserv, known as Archives and Archivists, or A&A, is being shut down at the end of 2017. A&A is administered by the Society of American Archivists (SAA), and has been in existence for well over two decades. SAA is a membership-supported (i.e. dues-paying) organization, though non-members have long been able to subscribe to A&A. A&A has such a longstanding notorious reputation within the profession that it has its own derogatory nickname that’s been in use for years – #ThatDarnList (almost always hashtagged because it’s most frequently deployed on Twitter, where’s it’s been in use since at least 2009).

Why is A&A so notorious? Simply put, because A&A has a long track record of being a hostile environment for many archivists – especially women, people of color, and young/early-career archivists. Many archivists have written about this, these links from the last few years give a good overview:

https://storify.com/Zanish/thatdarnlist
https://archivasaurus.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/are-we-a-profession-or-arent-we/
http://annajcook.blogspot.com/2014/05/once-upon-listserv-thoughts-on.html
https://offtherecord.archivists.org/2014/06/27/the-de-evolution-of-the-archives-and-archivists-list/
https://thefeministlibrarian.com/2014/09/10/in-which-i-write-letters-open-letter-to-saa-re-thatdarnlist/
https://concernedarchivists.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/thatdarnlist-the-saga-continues/

It is also a problem that SAA has increasingly acknowledged since 2014. Read these two reports from the organization:
2014: https://www2.archivists.org/sites/all/files/0814-1-IV-D-A&AList.pdf
2017: https://www2.archivists.org/sites/all/files/1117-V-A-A&AList.pdf

Lest you think this problem has been brought on by “snowflake leftist social justice warrior” millenials who eat too much avocado toast and complain about unpaid internships, A&A has had a bad reputation way before anyone coined the term millenial. Things apparently got pretty wild in 1992-1993. Don’t believe me? Well go back and read these two pieces from American Archivist.

Frank Burke (1992) Letting Sleeping Dogmas Lie:

Anne Kenney (1993) SAA Is Us: Promoting Participation in the Work of the Society:

Like many other archivists, I’ve cheered the recent decision by SAA Council to end the listserv. I left active subscription to A&A a few years ago and have not returned. I have personally encountered the hostile atmosphere of A&A, and it’s become increasingly embarrassing to see how bullshit on the listserv comes off to new archivists and information professionals who are adjacent to archives. Archivists claim to be professionals, but judging from the listserv, it’s hard to see where some of our fellow archivists could actually claim any sense of professionalism. A&A has not been a good resource for years – many of the most knowledgeable people in our field left it long ago. In fact, the toxicity is now so notorious that it’s getting written about outside of our field. Somehow I don’t think this is the kind of public awareness that the Committee on Public Awareness had in mind.

SAA has said that it will be exploring other avenues for communication platforms in the coming months. SAA already hosts a number of other listservs – each of SAA’s sections have listservs, and non-members are allowed to subscribe to up to three of them.

One of the larger conversations provoked by the shutting down of A&A is the question of staying professionally involved. According to the #thatdarnlist hashtag, many of the subscribers to A&A are now concerned about losing access to this source of information about the profession. I’ve encountered a similar sentiment on a regional archivists listserv, and I find it strange. More on that in a forthcoming post.

Letter concerning SAA’s dues structure

Following up on this blog post, I helped write a letter that was co-signed by over 50 people to SAA concerning the current dues structure and the proposed increase. Many thanks to the co-signers, and especially those who contributed suggestions and edits. This was definitely a team effort. It was sent to SAA earlier today. Here is the letter:

Download (PDF, 212KB)

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Concerns about SAA’s FY17-19 proposed dues increase

I just got back from an incredible week in Cleveland — I have begun thinking of the Society of American Archivists (SAA) annual meeting as my archivist booster shot, and lord did I need it by the time I drove up I-71. So great to see old friends and make new ones, listen to others discuss their work, and share some of my own. SAA’s staff, the Program committee, and the Local Arrangements committee did a marvelous job of bringing so many of us to one of the Midwest’s crown jewels for fellowship and learning.

If anyone was at the business meeting yesterday, you may have heard me raise concerns about the SAA dues structure, and what appears to be a flat increase on arguably an already regressive* structure of membership dues. The business meeting had a discussion period regarding the proposed dues increase for FY (fiscal year) 2017-2019. The dues increase will be voted on by the membership later this year.

The problems with distribution of dues is obscured at first glance because SAA commendably breaks out dues into categories by income, something that I hope they will continue to do. My concern is that as a percentage of income, those on the lower-income bands pay a higher rate proportional to their income compared to those who are on the higher-income bands. The proposed increases appear to entrench the existing regressive structure, rather than shifting it to a progressive structure.

If you look at the lower bands of each income bracket, here’s what you see (e.g., if you fall within the 30-39k income membership level, this example assumes you make $30,000):

Screen Shot 2015-08-23 at 10.15.03 AM

So in the example shown above, if you currently make $20,000, you pay 0.53% of your gross income for SAA dues. If you make $40,000, you pay 0.4%. If you make $60,000 you pay 0.38%, and if you make over $75,000, you pay 0.33%.

If the proposal is approved by the membership, by FY19, those making $20,000 pay 0.58%, those making $40,000 pay 0.44%, those making $60,000 pay 0.41%, and those making over $75,000 pay 0.37%.

All my figures, including what the same numbers look like from the top and mid-point of each income range, can be found in this spreadsheet. It’s an Excel spreadsheet so you are welcome to plug in your own numbers and play around with it.

A few points I want to make:

  1. I believe it is inherently unfair to make our lower-income members of the profession pay a larger proportion of their income for membership dues. These are already the members less likely to afford attendance at SAA’s annual meeting and workshops due to the costs. In addition, because workshop and annual meeting registrations make no allowance for income-based registrations, they arguably pay a greater share of their incomes to be professionally involved at an active level than those making higher incomes.
  2. I believe that SAA’s elected leaders and staff should immediately consider how to shift the dues structure to a progressive structure, in which the proportion of dues you pay relative to your gross income increases as your income increases. Currently it appears that in all hypothetical membership scenarios (based on lower, mid, and high ranges of each band), lower-income members pay a larger share of their income as compared to those with higher-incomes. The current dues increase appears to entrench the currently regressive* structure.
  3. Although I am generally supportive of a dues increase and believe SAA is a good steward of our membership dues, I would like to see SAA address these points before I make my final decision on how to vote. I stated yesterday I would vote for this, but after running the numbers I really need to hear SAA’s position on this before I make my final decision. In my ideal world, the proposed schedule of increases would be re-structured to be more progressive over the next three years. Current dues for those at the lower-income bands would be frozen, while those with higher-incomes would pay a higher share than they currently do. According to the brief (distributed at yesterday’s meeting), there may be time to revise the current proposed schedule of increases (see bottom of page 2).
  4. I plan to write a letter to SAA’s leadership in a few weeks to obtain more information and more formally express my concerns stated above. I really want other archivists, from all ends of the income spectrum, to co-sign the letter with me as a statement of solidarity on behalf of our lower-income colleagues. If you would like to co-sign it with me, please send me an email to eira.tansey@uc.edu so I can include you on a draft. You may also leave any questions or comments on this page about things I should include in the letter.

*I am not an economist (though if time and money were no object, I’d probably go back and get my degree in it), so please forgive me if I’m not using some of this language the way economists would.

SAA14 trip report

This year’s annual meeting of the Society of American Archivists took place in Washington, DC. Many of my session reports first appeared on the SNAP blog as session recaps.

Some general thoughts about this year’s conference:

The Society of American Archivists (SAA) meets annually, but every 4th year the meeting is held in Washington DC. This was the third time SAA had a joint meeting with the Council of State Archivists (COSA) and the National Association of Government Archives and Records Administrators (NAGARA). The meeting in Washington DC usually receives the highest attendance, and this was the largest meeting on record (exact attendance to be announced — but there were 2,300 pre-registrations . Many thanks to the SAA office staff, director Nancy Beaumont, the COSA/NAGARA/SAA program committee, and the Washington DC local arrangements committee for putting on such a great conference!

I approached this conference somewhat differently than I have in years past. I tweeted less and took more notes by hand, attended section and roundtable meetings normally not on my radar, and didn’t feel obligated to attend every single session.

Although I had a jam-packed schedule, I did not feel obligated to attend and do ALL THE THINGS. This ended up being a very good idea — I was approached a few times during the conference to join panel proposals for future conferences, or to discuss collaborative projects. Because I wasn’t committed to attending something in every single time slot, I was able to have many spontaneous meetings with people. This is good, because I’ll be leaving this conference with many “starts” for future presentations, research, and collaborative partnerships, which will be crucial as I make my way on my library’s tenure track.

I’ve often heard long-time conference attendees mention that the most valuable part of a conference experience happens in the hallways, not in the presentation rooms. After this year, I wholeheartedly agree with this idea. Because I was focused more on seeking out people working on similar projects and research interests, I feel like I strengthened my professional network significantly this year.

I don’t know if I could point to one single theme of this year’s conference. It’s worth noting that the events in Ferguson started over the weekend before SAA, and ramped up over the week (and still are continuing as of this writing). I saw this come up occasionally in the #saa14 Twitter stream  as early news reports were lacking in sufficient documentation, and how archivists’ work intersects with documentation to serve social justice. Maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see because I started and ended the week on an advocacy note, but I do think I saw more emphasis on the power of archives this week, to paraphrase Rand Jimerson  In many ways, SAA is a big enough conference that it’s a “choose your own adventure” kind of thing, so I gravitated to sessions on strengthening the archival profession and our connections outside our field, rather than solely sessions on technical practice.  In other words, my experience of SAA this year was more of a focus on the “why” of archives, instead of the “how.”

A note about some of the reports: you may notice some of my reports on particular meetings or panels are very heavily detailed while others are not. I volunteered to recap a number of sessions for the SNAP Roundtable, so for sessions I was covering, my note taking was pretty intense. You may want to check the #saa14 Twitter hashtag and session-specific hashtags for more information (usually specified such as #s502 or #s411), as well as the SNAP blog for more information on the events during the conference.

Day 1/Monday: 

I attended the workshop, “Advocating for Archivists,” taught by Jelain Chubb and David Carmichael. They both have extensive experience in managing state archives, and the workshop purpose was to help archivists develop advocacy strategies. The workshop was interesting because archival advocacy has a lot of overlap with archivist professional identity, how our society values cultural heritage, the increasing use of metrics and ROI, and so on. Advocacy is something that is vital to the archival enterprise, and my favorite archivists also happen to be some of the fiercest advocates I’ve ever met. Some of the takeaways from the workshop for me were:

  • It sounds obvious, but you can’t just ask for “space” or “more staff.” You must frame these needs as part of a defined goal.
  • Recruit and cultivate people to carry your message for you; these voices often have more resonance than your own (or, “Who do the people you want to influence listen to?”)
  • Don’t always stick with the “historical treasure trove” (aka “the trivia trap”) of archives as a selling point — this is not compelling for a significant part of the population. Tell stories about how archives have literally saved lives, saved jobs, stimulate the economy, etc. Give stakeholders reasons to agree with you.
  • Appeal to what is right (an unchanging message), but also tune your message to the audience (and their self-interest)
  • Think of interesting ways to present your usage — one member of the workshop mentioned that he created data visualizations to show archives use. One of our instructors had done tourism impact studies of out of town visitors to the archives, showing that they spent 4 nights in the state, and generally visited at least one other city for personal travel during their trip.
  • Always have a specific “Ask” when you are meeting with someone to discuss your concerns or needs.

We concluded the day with writing an advocacy plan — similar to what I was planning to do anyway for kicking off some digital forensics planning at UC. So it was a very helpful and useful exercise. Many thanks to our instructors and SAA for offering this extremely low-cost workshop — only $40!

I then attended my first SAA Council meeting — or, rather, my first half-hour of a Council meeting. Shout-out to Kathleen Roe for encouraging folks to attend Council meetings, which are open to the public. She did a fantastic job of taking me around to meet all the Council members. Advocacy in action!

I closed out the night by kicking off the first Lunch Buddy (dinner, actually) outing of SAA 2014. Lunch Buddies has been my baby since I helped create it through SNAP a couple years ago, but I let the reins go this year when SNAP fully took over the spreadsheet wrangling. I’m so proud of this effort, and I really hope people will continue to use and benefit from Lunch Buddies in years to come.

Day 2/Tuesday:

I attended a few papers at the annual meeting research forum. I really enjoyed Christine George’s paper titled, “You’ve got a Better Chance of Finding Waldo: Archivists in Pop Culture and Why Their Lack of Visibility Matters” regarding the lack of archivist visibility in pop culture was intriguing. I took the rest of the afternoon off to attend the wonderful Andrew Wyeth exhibit at the National Gallery, and to also do the world’s quickest stop at the National Archives to catch a glimpse of the Constitution.

Day 3/Wednesday:

I kicked off the day with a run by the National Cathedral, and then I led a Lunch Buddy trip to the National Zoo in order to see the Zoo’s pandas. We saw a couple — one in a tree, and another chowing down on bamboo for breakfast. I got back in time for the latter half of the SAA Leadership Orientation and Forum, something I thought I should attend because I’ve recently been elected to SAA’s Records Management roundtable. Then it was off to a meeting for Nominating Committee, as we continued to hash out our slate of candidates for the 2015 elections.

In the afternoon attended the International Archival Affairs Roundtable, which is not something that is often on my conference schedule, but was pretty awesome! In attendance were representatives from the International Council on Archives (ICA). ICA is engaging in some interesting activities to develop opportunities for new professionals, and also developing resources for African archives and archivists. Then we heard from Bill Maher, SAA’s representative to WIPO. Some of the copyright conversations at WIPO collapsed this year. You can read more about that here.

I attended the joint meeting of the Lone Arrangers and SNAP Roundtables. The two main content presentations of this were two separate panels on being an archives consultant, and archival internships from the supervisor’s perspective. As topics on archival employment, education, and internships frequently do, there was fairly lively discussion.

Later I led a SNAP Lunch Buddy group up to the fabulous restaurant Ted’s Bulletin, where several of us got food before a night out on the town.

Day 4/Thursday:

I had a fantastic meeting with my Navigatee. This is a service that SAA provides to match up new conference goers with seasoned attendees. We had a great conversation about some of our shared interests, and discussed how to get the most out of the conference. I highly recommend that all veteran SAA-goers offer to serve as a navigator at future conferences (and you don’t have to be super-experienced — I think most people could step into this after about 3 conferences). Conference first-timers, be sure to sign up to be matched with a navigator!

The first session I attended was Session 107: Archivists AND Records Manager?! This session focused on the challenges faced by dual-title individuals (i.e., Archivist/Records Manager), as well as archivists who encounter records management concerns unexpectedly (and vice-versa). The session opened with an introduction to the Records Management for Lone Arrangers guide  Lisa Sjoberg (Concordia College) shared the rests of a survey that was conducted on dual archives & records management programs. These programs are usually based on a centralized or decentralized model. The survey was mainly distributed to archivist listservs, which may have influenced the results. Major concerns expressed by individuals who administered joint archival/RM programs were electronic records, and how to strengthen compliance and cooperation with program goals.

The other participants Holly Geist (Denver Water) and Alexis Antracoli (Drexel University) talked about some of the challenges of doing records management and archival work in parallel. A fun fact I learned from this session — apparently Denver Water coined the term ‘xeriscaping’. The main takeaway from their presentations is that the impact of electronic records has sometimes made it difficult to ensure records management practices are being adopted uniformly across all areas. Geist had a brilliant tip for how to ensure records are not lost when someone leaves the institution — regularly get a retirement list from HR so retirees may be contacted to ensure proper disposal and/or transfer to archives of their records before their departure.

This was the first year I attended the Academy of Certified Archivists (ACA) business lunch. I took the ACA exam last year and passed, and thought it’d be interesting to see how the Academy conducts its business and what the governance structure looks like. As part of my research on job ads, I’ve read a lot on the origins of archival certification, and its relationship to professional identity and archival education. As this was the 25th anniversary of ACA, there were brief presentations by long-time ACA members on the history of the academy and its future.

Gregory Hunter made the following points in his presentation, which closely mirrored much of what I’ve read from archival literature:

  • 1989 was not the beginning of archival certification — a significant amount of groundwork had been laid before then, and the idea of archival certification had been around for some time
  • The ACA would not have come into existence without the altruism of its early founding members, many of whom poured significant time and resources into its founding
  • At the time the ACA was founded, certification was viewed as a first step, and not the last step within the archival profession. Many archivists at this time supported not only individual certification, but also the accreditation of graduate educational programs and the accreditation of archival repositories.

Mott Linn recently conducted a large survey on the geographic distribution of certification. This was fascinating, as it confirmed much of what I’ve long suspected based on anecdata seen over my own early archival career.

Something that has continually surprised me is what a polarizing issue archival certification is, and how often it seems to break down along geographical lines. My first post-college archives gig was five years at Tulane University in New Orleans. Louisiana is in the Society of Southwest Archivists (SSA) region, and it always seemed to me that SSA is a core stronghold for Certified Archivists. Many prominent archivists in this region have their CA, and when I started at Tulane, I was expected to sit for the exam as soon as I qualified (i.e., finished my graduate degree). When I was preparing for the exam, I helped run a very informal study group for all the local archivists planning to take the exam when SAA met in NOLA in 2013. When I’ve encountered outright hostility to the concept of archival certification (some of the feelings understandable, others not so much), I’ve almost always found it coming from archivists who were educated or had their first job outside of the SSA region (or to put it bluntly and less diplomatically, from the upper East Coast, mid-Atlantic area, and some parts of the Midwest).

Linn’s research on this issue will appear in a forthcoming issue of American Archivist. I hope that he includes as many of the fun color-coded maps as were in his slide deck. As someone whose undergrad work was in urban geography, this was a great presentation. Here were some of the highlights —

  • The Mississippi River appears to be the major dividing line between who has the CA designation and who does not
  • There are 15 Certified Archivists (CAs) per 100 Society of American Archivist members (SAAs) east of the Mississippi River
  • There are 30 CAs per 100 SAAs west of the Mississippi River
  • In the Society of Southwest Archivists region, there are 40 CAs per 100 SAAs (to which beloved Dr. Gracy shouted out his trademark ‘Hot dog!’)
  • A figure which will likely not surprise anyone, the weakest area for CA membership is New England

I really look forward to seeing this work published. While I have some issues with aspects of archival certification (the steep exam fees, the exam structure), I do think there is continuing value in certification. I tend to be a “don’t throw the baby out with the bath water” reformer, rather than a “burn it down!” revolutionary. I have significant concerns about the monetary costs associated with certification, and this concerns me because I worry about how financial barriers prevent and actively discourage our profession from reaching a real form of diversity. While I support time and study barriers as qualifiers for entering the profession, I think financial barriers have real effects on our goals of diversifying the archival workforce. I hope this is an issue we can address, not only within ACA but elsewhere in our professional organizations. As someone astutely noted, as expensive as the ACA exam can be, it’s still cheaper than the full set of SAA’s DAS courses.

Later on Thursday afternoon, I attended Session 203: Talking to Stakeholders about Electronic Records  This was a fun, interactive session in which we discussed how to make the case for electronic records management issues to three groups of stakeholders (records creators, administrators, and IT). The content of this panel was quite similar to the advocacy workshop I took earlier in the week. Our presenters started off with these introductory points to keep in mind:

  • We know electronic records are important and need certain forms of management, but do others?
  • There is not a “one size fits all” approach to making the case. Depending on the type of stakeholder, different messaging strategies will have more meaning. Identifying shared interests between the archivist/records manager and the particular stakeholder is the key to a successful relationship. In addition, always trotting out a “doomsday scenario” is not always a great way to get buy-in
  • We have ignored the heavy lifting needed for managing electronic records for too long, and we can’t do it anymore

Jodie Foley of the Montana Historical Society noted that when it comes to advocacy, it’s not “one and done,” but it is critical to sustain relationships over time. When it comes to the concerns of records creators, shared interests often revolve around legal concerns (I have heard this in my own work — people are terrified to get rid of anything lest they find they need it for a future lawsuit), efficiency across business processes, and managing records well so they can be easily located. Foley talked about the perception among some records creators that records managers often “get in the way” and how our outreach must be conscientious of this perception. Records creators may think “IT is taking care of it.” When we counteract this message, we must also emphasize that we work in cooperation with IT — not that we are antagonists, or competing with them. Obviously this must go beyond messaging to forging real relationships with IT — more on that in a minute.

As part of this panel, we would break off into discussion groups to work through a set of scenarios, and then reconvene to share our talking points, and move on to the next speaker. After Foley spoke, we broke into groups to discuss the first scenario: explaining how to manage electronic records to a state’s Department of Transportation. We worked through talking points, and then each discussion group came together to share their best ideas:

  • It’s in their best interest to identify and manage vital records early as part of disaster prevention
  • Good electronic records management can help your area avoid embarrassment
  • Empower others to “CYA”

Next, Jim Corridan of the Indiana Commission on Public Records spoke to us about how to craft messages for administrators. The concerns of this group is also centered on legal compliance, and business efficiency. In addition, they are also significantly concerned with a public relations disaster and a hit to institutional reputation. They also may be pressured to respond to calls for increased transparency and accountability. One concept I heard frequently in this session was “tripping points,” which I took to mean a form of challenges one might encounter in the advocacy process.

Corridan was very clear that using historical value as a selling point is often not effective with many administrators, since history is seen as a luxury. He suggested that an effective formula to use with administrators (and likely, all stakeholders) is “Here’s a problem, here’s a solution, here’s how we can work together.” We returned to our discussion group to discuss messaging for a scenario of a public university panel considering new projects, and pitching the archives’ need to transition to managing electronic records. Ideas from our group and others included:

  • Noting that the archives has a statutory mandate to manage records, but that without the support needed to make electronic records, we’re not in compliance
  • Universities view themselves as cutting edge — do they want to keep doing things in a way that is no longer satisfactory?
  • Look at what “competitor” schools are doing

The final group of stakeholders we considered were IT. Information Technology teams have specific concerns around storage and management costs (often fee-based in many organizations), security standards, system efficiency, etc. IT has its own definitions that often depart from archivist/records managers’ definitions (e.g., “archive,” “governance”). It can be useful to look at what work is happening that intersects with RM from influential IT organizations such as NASCIO  In other words, find out who your institution’s IT people listen to. Because CIO positions often have frequent turnover, this presents a challenge for building relationships. The last scenario our discussion group considered was how a state archive might gain IT support for why electronic records need special consideration beyond normal practice. The ideas generated in the room included:

  • Emphasizing that we can help reduce IT burdens by identifying what can be removed from systems
  • Framing collaboration with IT as a new and exciting project. Help them share in the glory of success.
  • Do a self-assessment before approaching IT so it’s clear what your needs are and how they can help

This was a great session, and what I liked about it was the participatory nature. The panelists left us with some final thoughts:

  • Go for low-hanging fruit to snowball successes
  • Do your research about hot-button issues in your organization you might not be aware of
  • COSA/NAGARA/SAA are going to begin some joint advocacy efforts for electronic records
  • Keep an eye out for the next Electronic Records Day— held annually on October 10 (1010 — get it? If not, read up on binary code)

The final official thing of the day I attended was SAA’s Acquisitions and Appraisal Section meeting. Appraisal is arguably the most critical function performed by an archivist, since it is the major step in shaping what historical record survives and what is designated for destruction. Some archivists say that good archivists know what to keep, better archivists know what to destroy. I’ve often thought appraisal is what distinguishes archivists from hoarders.

This is a section meeting I normally have not attended in the past, so it was interesting to see what was on this section’s radar. They announced the creation of a new blog, and the main portion of the meeting featured a number of panelists discussing tools that assist with appraising and accessioning electronic records. The following tools were highlighted:

  • BitCurator— a packaged set of tools to create digital forensic disk images, and tools to work with those disk images
  • An as yet unreleased tool to acquire electronic records out of Dropbox, in development at NYU
  • Archivematica— tools for processing electronic records, including normalization and format identification
  • ePADD— a tool that detects email patterns
  • Various tools from AVPreserve

Day 5/Friday:

The first order of the day was to attend the Write Away! breakfast. I attended because I am interested in pursuing research and writing opportunities. This breakfast featured some of the publications board staff and editors affiliated with SAA’s publication outlets (American Archivist, various publications, and Archival Outlook). Chris Prom, SAA Publications Editor, shared news on efforts to publish case studies by SAA Component Groups, and future editions of Trends in Archival Practice. Greg Hunter, editor of American Archivist, discussed the journal, noting that there are currently 150 peer reviewers associated with it. He mentioned that because the journal is now over 75 years old, he is interested in retrospective articles on a variety of topics (e.g., “75 years of appraisal in American Archivist”). Amy Cooper Cary, Reviews Editor, noted that anyone can get in touch with her if they are interested in reviewing a book or another resource. Although only a few reviews make it into each issue of American Archivist, additional reviews are published on the reviews portal.

Later, I attended Session 305, Managing Social Media as Official Records  Lorianne Ouderkirk of the Utah State Archives and Records Service discussed the educational and operational challenges of applying records management guidelines to social media. She noted that people now expect to be able to communicate with government through social media, which has led to a significant rise of governmental entities using various social media channels. These can be hard to keep track of, although in Utah there is an excellent dashboard which lists all the various state agency social media channels. The Utah State Archives has situated education on social media records around the following factors:

  • Risk
  • Identifying records
  • Applying retention

In addition, they have issued a draft document titled Preliminary Guidance on Government Use of Social Media. These guidelines were adapted from the New York State Archive’s guidelines. Ouderkirk noted that in Utah, most records fall under existing records schedules under Correspondence, Publication, Core Function, etc. She noted that over the course of training, most attendees wanted information on agency guidelines, but after a follow-up, many found they did not have time to implement what was learned in records training.

The next speaker was Geof Huth of the New York State Archives, who discussed the risk aspects of agency social media use. He showed some fairly amusing (and redacted!) screenshots of social media activity from state agency and political offices. It is not unusual for constituents to leave vulgar and/or highly-politicized rhetoric on social media channels. Although not all social media may constitute a record, many social media postings, pictures, and status updates do constitute a record. Huth noted that not only does government use of social media tell us how government functions, but also about how government wants to be seen.

One of the biggest stumbling blocks with social media is that there is no such thing as true local control, because the use of social media necessarily involves using a third-party application. Social media use has the potential to be inefficient, increase an agency’s vulnerability to cyber attacks, risk of public embarrassment, and an inability to produce records if called upon to do so quickly. Huth stressed that when possible, it’s important for agencies to take control of their data, presumably via some form of export to local systems and active management.

Huth stressed the necessity of the following policies and procedures:

  • Determining content creation issues — do all postings require approval by an agency head or delegate before going public?
  • Appropriate use — who at an agency gets to create social media postings?
  • Security — who has the password? How will risks be monitored?

Determining “what is a record” can be difficult among any group of records, but applying records definitions to social media presents its own set of challenges. Some of the options are to either treat a social media channel/site as one entire record, or examine content of each record to determine retention/disposition.

When considering capture of social media records, the following questions must be considered:

  • Should records be retained for a long or short time period?
  • How frequently should records be captured?
  • Quantity — do you need everything or simply a sample?
  • What should be done if it turns out the popularity of a social media channel is short lived?
  • Is it possible to extract only the data you need?

Huth reminded us that “capture is not preservation,” and agencies may want to consider specialized tools — there are some open access tools for web harvesting and social media capture (for example, Heritrix and Social Feed Manager , as well as commercial tools such as ArchiveSocial and RegEd.

The final speaker of the panel was Darren Shulman, attorney for the city of Delaware (Ohio), on implementing a social media plan. Full disclosure, I have the privilege to serve with Darren on the Ohio Electronic Records Committee. Darren walked us through creating a social media plan, which can help guide records-related decision making. Ideally a plan should be created before a social media channel is adopted. A social media plan can help with the following issues:

  • Security — who has the password? This is important information in case of staff turnover or cyberattack.
  • Roles and responsibilities — defining  the roles of records management, business units, legal, and IT
  • Moderation and participation — how will responses be monitored?

Darren noted the following distinctions between things an agency posts, versus things other people post:

With things you post:

  • Is it a record, or a copy of something that was originally posted elsewhere?
  • If it is a record, how will you maintain it?

With things other people post:

  • Are comments a public record?
  • How to treat vulgar comments? There are a few options:
    • Delete
    • Leave up, with a visible disclaimer
    • Capture for internal records and then delete from public view (this was a suggestion from the audience, but may pose issues unless you have a posted policy somewhere)
  • May constituents use social media channels as a way to make a report or file a complaint?

If anyone would like to download the social media plan, you can find the template here.

After lunch I headed to Session 501: Taken for Granted: How Term Positions Affect New Professionals and the Repositories That Employ Them  Grant-funded temporary positions (aka “project positions”) are prevalent in the archival profession, and are often funded for somewhere from 1-3 years, and occasionally longer. The panel consisted of early-career archivists who discussed their project positions, hiring managers who had hired many project archivists, and a representative from the National Historical Publications and Records Commission, which provides a significant number of grants to fund temporary processing projects at American institutions.

The two early career archivists discussed the challenges of being a project archivist — often times the critical difference for their job satisfaction was a manager who helped them access professional development funding, and helped integrate them into the overall infrastructure of the archive’s operations and administration. Mark Greene, director of the American Heritage Center at the University of Wyoming, echoed this sentiment, noting his efforts to invite project archivists in his center to all department meetings, and many others. He has built in professional development funds to temporary position salaries, and has attempted to (it sounds as if there are HR or agency barriers) also factor in salary increases.

Dan Santamaria, recently of Princeton, gave a fairly sobering presentation on his experience with hiring over 30 project archivists over a 10 year period. He noted that not only does this lead to a workplace with two classes of archivists (permanent and temporary), but it is also an enormous time burden on a hiring manager to always be in some state of hiring or training. Santamaria noted that for the vast majority of employees (permanent and temporary), it takes them about 6-12 months before they feel comfortable and familiar with the workplace. Of course, by that time, a project archivist may be getting ready to move on. Due to this turnover, Santamaria noted that he experienced approximately 4 entire team turnovers during his time at Princeton. Santamaria noted that the past model of project work (assuming one archivist working on one collection) may no longer be as relevant in some repositories, and urged the profession to reconsider offering project positions just because we can.

Finally, Alex Lorch of NHPRC, noted that processing grants means jobs, even during the recent recession. He reviewed his own job history (which included some temporary positions), and noted that ‘project archivist’ does not always connote entry-level work. He included some tips for grant applications — you have to write a job description for each grant, justify the salary, and keep in mind it’s common for project archivists to leave before the grant is up (due to the necessity of job searching before the grant is over), and that it takes a lot of time to screen applicants.

The last session of the day was the SAA Records Management Roundtable. In the interest of disclosure, I was recently elected to the Records Management Roundtable steering committee. Unfortunately I got there about 20 minutes late due to a scheduling snafu, so I missed the first few items of business. The roundtable will soon be voting on new bylaws, including that of the continuity of vice-chair/chair-elect/immediate past president, and staggering the steering committee elections. Currently the entire roundtable leadership is re-elected each year, which leads to some confusion and inefficiency. A proposal was made from the floor to elect 6 steering committee members, 2 each on a 3-year cycle. We were also asked to consider whether we still need a newsletter considering the roundtable has a blog, Twitter, and microsite.

Following the business meeting, we moved into the “unconference” portion of the meeting. We broke off into self-selected groups to discuss various topics that had been posed. I chose to join the group to discuss “getting records management buy-in at your institution.” My group consisted of archivists at public and private universities, as well as those working in the corporate sector, and within a federal agency. An archivist from a large Midwestern university noted her efforts to implement a records management program, which took about 10 years to get fully off the ground. She said her persistence and strong relationships with IT (especially when they have the purse strings) were key to her success. The archivist from the federal agency noted how a colleague of his at another branch had a “Biggest Electronic Loser” contest to award employees who disposed of the most electronic data. I also ran some of the ideas I had about increasing records compliance at my university past this group. They enthusiastically endorsed my ideas, and offered some good advice.

Towards the end of the slot, we all shared some of what we discussed with the larger group. Luckily all of these notes were captured in this crowdsourced document representing the work of each discussion group. Check it out!  The Records Management Roundtable has an active presence during the year. You might want to check out some of the Hangouts they do, as well as the thoughtful blog, The Schedule.

The evening rounded out with a wonderful reception at the Library of Congress (poking around in the old-school library card catalog with a bunch of archivists might be the night’s highlight) and the revival of Raiders of the Lost Archives. You can check out some of the tweets for the Raiders program here.

Day 6/Saturday:

The last day of SAA always feels mellower than the first couple days — probably because a lot of people have already left, or energy levels are lower? Not totally sure. I attended Session 705, Young, Black, Brown and Yellow: Diversity Recruitment Practices from the Field. The panelists discussed the Knowledge Alliance program to recruit a diverse workforce to librarianship and archives. The panelists emphasized the importance of connecting with people’s individual interests, and the impact of having librarians and archivists of color in visible positions. Often, students from underrepresented racial and ethnic groups simply don’t have these fields on their radar, and it makes a large impact to have contact with a librarian or archivist who looks like you. Tabling at career fairs is critical — students can’t be recruited into librarianship and archives unless they know it even exists at a job fair. Steven Booth shared a great anecdote about a student who showed interest when she asked if his work was similar to Olivia Pope’s father’s cover.

The panelists also noted that recruiting student workers and paraprofessionals is also an excellent way to develop a diverse professional workforce. These individuals are already exposed to library and archival work. Booth told us that if a library is interested in diversity recruiting strategies, to contact diversity@ala.org.

The final meeting of the day was the Annual Business Meeting. Every year I get on Twitter and exhort people to show up at the business meeting if they are still in town. I feel quite strongly about this, because I have occasionally witnessed business meetings where an action is being taken that might disproportionately affect newer and/or underrepresented members of the profession, but few members of those  groups are often at the business meeting. Unlike in previous years, our quorum threshold was met right away (usually this is measured by seating all members in a roped-off section of the room).

Shortly after the meeting was called to order, Executive Director Nancy Beaumont shared some very sad news with us — Nadia Seiler, a manuscripts cataloger at the Folger Shakespeare Library — was en route to the conference when she was struck and killed. Her fiancé had alerted the conference staff to share this news. We held a moment of silence in her memory. I had not met Nadia, but my heart goes out to her friends and loved ones.

We adopted the meeting’s agenda with no items added from the floor. Nancy Beaumont took the lectern to deliver her annual report as Executive Director of SAA. The highlights of her speech noted how SAA was meeting the goals outlined in the current strategic plan:

Next, Mark Duffy, Treasurer, gave his annual report. The highlights:

  • SAA’s finances are strong enough to be able to do some levels of experimentation with the annual meeting model
  • Staff and administration overhead are a large part of the finances
  • Council has agreed to set aside funds for a Technology Reserve fund in the neighborhood of $220,000 to enhance e-Publishing, new communication technologies, etc
  • The FY15 budget is 5% larger than FY14, with a 74% increase in advocacy spending
  • SAA is exploring new methods of delivering Archival Outlook online, and providing affordable childcare at meetings
  • Maintaining all staff salaries at living wages is a priority
  • SAA is examining activities it may drop in the future, that are no longer useful to the organization
  • Membership dues are approximately 30% of total revenue, but membership growth has been limited since 2012. The benchmark goal for membership revenue is approximately 34% of finances, and Mark told us we should expect to hear about dues in the coming year, but did not elaborate further
  • The SAA Foundationwill step up its planned giving

Amy Schindler, immediate past-chair of Nominating Committee, reviewed the slate of candidates presented to the membership in early 2014. Full disclosure, I was nominated for Nominating Committee and won. More about Nominating Committee’s work can be found here. Amy noted that this year’s election turnout was 20% — still far too low if you ask me, but better than the previous year’s rate of 17%. Is it too ambitious to hope for a 25-30% turnout in the 2015 election?

Kathleen Roe then took the lectern to deliver her first address as new incoming SAA President. She opened with the song from the musical RENT, Seasons of Love, which counts a year in minutes (525,600 to be specific). If you’ve ever spent 5 minutes with Kathleen, you know that her jam is advocacy, and this will be her theme over the next year. I’m excited — some of the most inspiring literature in our field is centered around archivists’ need to advocate for our communities, our users, our “stuff,” and ourselves. Kathleen reminded us that advocacy is something we know we need to do, but for many archivists it is not yet a natural act. Kathleen invited us to a “year of living dangerously,” as we work to spread the message that archives change lives. I’m fired up and ready to go.

See you next year in Cleveland, friends.

Culminating Thoughts on SAA13

Being an archivist is fundamentally about relationships. While our job responsibilities generally emphasize “the stuff,” and “the stuff” is what we talk about when we talk to the public about what archivists do, to me this is an occupational description that doesn’t capture the essence of what we do. Because when you strip it all down, what we really “do” are building and maintaining relationships of all kinds. And I think the future of the profession, as well as individual success, depend a lot on our ability to forge relationships with one another, and especially with people outside of our comfort zone or echo chamber.

Coming away from SAA’s 2013 annual meeting, this thought process has been rattling around in my head, along with trying to figure out how we continue some of the discussions we started here in New Orleans last week. Most of my thoughts are percolating around three issues: professional discourse, member engagement with professional organizations, and closing the gap between digital archives education and practice.

Obligatory disclaimer: All views expressed here are mine, and mine only. They do not represent the views of my employer or any organization I am affiliated with.

Professional Discourse

During SAA, and following it, I’ve been marinating on the concept of professional discourse, and its related cousin, collegiality. And I’m mainly thinking about the way the Twitter backchannel figures into this. I’m far from the first one to do this. At the risk of concern trolling and tone policing, I want to come out and say that I’ve seen a lot of snark and escalating group arguments on the Twitter backchannel that really disappoint me. I think many aspects of calling out on the interwebz are very damaging, so I’m not going to point to specific examples, even if asked. I’ve seen examples of public snark coming from all sectors of archivists on Twitter, from students and new professionals to very established members of the profession.

A lot of people might roll their eyes and say, “So what? Just move along and ignore it.” Here’s the thing… many times I’ve wanted to reach out to someone visible on Twitter (in a general sense, this is not about any specific individual) to tap their knowledge for something I need help with, or ask their advice on a particular situation. Seeing public dissemination of snark makes me hesitate to ask them for their help, since I typically prefer to work with people I view as collaborative even in the face of disagreement and containing grace under fire. So when I see people snarking, or digging in their heels on an argument devoid of professional civility on Twitter, I’m less eager to work with them. From my perspective, snark on a public backchannel is effectively a form of pre-emptive silencing and a damper on potential collaboration.

I should probably make it clear that any organization needs healthy arguments within itself to keep its mission and leaders accountable. I support healthy arguments within the profession about professional values and ethics. And I recognize that significant issues of privilege play into defining the boundaries of “healthy arguments,” which is why I’m glad this post was recently written. Where my discomfort enters is here: I wish people were more sensitive to the extraordinarily public way Twitter amplifies these internal dissensions. Speaking for myself only, I try really, really hard to save my GRAR for appropriate offline spaces, because I know that many people are reading what I say on Twitter and forming their opinions about me based on what I say on the interwebz. First impressions count as much online as they do face to face. I’d feel like a total jerk if someone were afraid to approach me because of something I said online. During SAA, I met many people for the first time who said they had been following me on Twitter – and they often referenced very specific things I said on Twitter. I’m fine with this, because I’ve never felt that Twitter is a safe space where I can say things without professional consequence.

As a result, I do my best to force myself to step away from Twitter if I’m feeling myself getting GRAAAAR. I simply don’t want to say anything on Twitter I wouldn’t say to someone’s face. One thing I kept finding myself saying over and over and over on Twitter during SAA was, “I’d love to talk about this offline.” And every time I said that, I meant it genuinely, because after 4 years of observing this stuff, I truly believe Twitter is best used to start conversations, not to solve arguments. From my perspective, the single most powerful thing you can do on Twitter is to ask if someone wants to continue the conversation off Twitter. Ideally this is done in person, but if not in person, maybe through a form of communication that best facilitates long-form discussion. There were a couple of instances during the conference where people either extended or took up an offer to move the discussion face to face – and to those colleagues who did that, please know how very grateful I am.

On a final note, let me say this: we are all complex human beings, and every single one of us sometimes says dumb stuff we probably regret in retrospect. Let’s try not to hold someone’s dissenting opinion against them in perpetuity, because frankly, this profession is really small, people change, and none of us are ever going to agree about everything all the time.

 

Membership Engagement

I know I bang this drum every year on Twitter, but I believe quite strongly that if you’re in town for the business meeting on the last day of the conference, you have a fundamental professional obligation to attend and be present for the quorum. I’m leaving alone the idea of moving it up earlier for now – I’ve seen good arguments for and against doing it. I don’t know how feasible this is in reality, so I’ll hold my thoughts on that until someone smarter than me can weigh in on the logistics of moving it earlier in the week. And I’d like to continue seeing efforts to make the business meeting more accessible to people unable to attend in person for whatever reason.

That said, I’ve heard people say they skip this meeting because it’s boring or they’d rather sightsee – but their presence is essential, because the business meeting needs a 100 person quorum in order to vote on anything. And even if that quorum is met, SAA members still have an obligation to show up at the meeting to bear witness to the decisions being made within their organization.  At this year’s meeting, we almost didn’t have such a quorum. I grew up in a household where I was constantly raised with the idea that if you have the chance/opportunity to contribute your voice or vote (i.e. if you are a voting member still in town during the business meeting), and you choose not to, you effectively forfeit your right to complain. I’ve noticed that there is not always the kind of student/new professional presence I’d hope for at the business meeting – so a special plea for y’all who identify as students and new professionals to do whatever you can to ensure you’re there in the future. I realize so much of this ties into meeting costs and accessibility (not everyone can afford a flight out after the business meeting, if they can make it to the conference at all), and I’m hopeful that the good work of the Annual Meeting Task Force will be implemented so we can reduce barriers as much as possible to attending the annual meeting.

Another thing that I find terribly disappointing (however many folks on Twitter have noted this is pretty common for professional organizations) is the low rate of voting in SAA. For this year’s 2013 slate of candidates, it was reported that only 17% of the membership voted (I’m still working on finding independent verification for this on the SAA website). Look, I understand we’re not going to get 100% (or maybe even 50%, sadly) anytime soon. But 17% is cause for concern. I have no idea if this is possible, but I’d love for SAA to break down who voted by factors like membership type and length. But we can and have had better membership response rates.

What does it mean when so little of the membership is voting for SAA leadership? Maybe it means no one is excited by the candidates. Maybe it means people are really busy. Maybe it means people don’t feel like their vote matters. Maybe people just don’t care. Maybe it has something to do with the 10% drop in student membership. It’s probably some of all of the above. But man – this bums me out big time. Voting in the elections maybe takes 30 minutes, tops, of your time (assuming you read all the candidate bios). Less than A FIFTH of the membership is deciding things for the rest of the organization. Are we seeing some kind of crazy real-life version of the Pareto principle?

One thing I’m wondering is whether people don’t vote simply because they don’t understand what Council or Nominating Committee does. There are a lot of aspects of SAA’s organization that still mystify me, though (I think) I know a lot more than I used to. I think more public awareness of how SAA functions as an organization is always a good thing, but awareness is only part of the picture. If anyone is aware of efforts related to this topic, please clue me in.

Closing the gap between education on digital archives and DOING digital archives

I just chaired a lightning talks panel (Session 301) at SAA, titled “Building Better Bridges: Archivists Cross the Digital Divide.” It was a wide-ranging panel looking at various emerging digital divides within the profession. One of the reasons I wanted to chair this session is because I’m concerned about an emerging gap between the availability of digital archives education and practice.

We have some incredible resources on digital archives education, such as the DAS program (full disclosure: I’m trying to complete the DAS program within the next year) and plenty of webinars and workshops. What I don’t see much of yet are opportunities for archivists without institutional opportunities to get their hands dirty with electronic records workflows. I’d love to see some sort of optional practicum attached to the DAS program where individuals could “do the digital stuff,” preferably with both sandbox and guided project components. While I’m not that familiar with Simmons, I’ve always been fascinated by their digital curriculum laboratory concept and wonder if it could serve as a model for this idea.

I think when many talk about digital archives education and reskilling, it’s taken on faith that individuals have an institutional outlet to “do digital stuff”, but the reality is that there are a lot of students, project archivists, unemployed people, and folks with simply different and unchanging job responsibilities that make it difficult to always translate the learning to the “doing” part of digital archives. I was thrilled to hear that the DAS subcommittee is considering a similar idea, and hope it comes to fruition shortly. If there is anyone else out there interested in this idea, or people building something like it, please get in touch.

And about New Orleans

I’m so thrilled SAA came to New Orleans this year. I’m a Midwesterner by birth and formation (go Cleveland for SAA 2015!), but I’ve lived in the Crescent City for the last 5 years, and I’ve learned more about myself here than anywhere else I’ve ever lived before. It’s a remarkable place to be, and I loved seeing 1,600 archivists enjoying themselves in our beautiful city. My sincere appreciation to those of you who extended a personal thanks for the work I did with the local arrangements blog – it was a lot of heavy lifting, and I was gratified to hear it was useful for so many. I’m truly honored and privileged to be a part of this incredible profession. Until next time…