Breadth

There was a time when I struggled to find words to describe my field. I wanted to pursue LIS for some vague reason. I suppose I just wasn’t sure what that reason was.

6 months post-orientation, I’ve discovered the opposite problem: everything is information. My studies—literally every course, every research interest—can be shaped to any situation you can throw at me. Now if you ask me what LIS is, I’ll still stumble for words because too many careen through my head. They’re hard to catch and form.

Then again, my obsession might be an artifact of the graduate school experience. A comparison to the oncologist who sees cancer everywhere would not be inaccurate. I do spend roughly 80-100 hours a week thinking about information. (It may also be indicative that the moment I typed that number, I began to wonder about the proliferation of completely fabricated results and their ultimate consequences to the information seeker, if any such consequences really exist.)

For example, I’m sitting at Caribou facing the pick-up line. Conveniently near the bar is a rack of propaganda: flyers for Caribou’s iced tea, take-out coffee, and the like. Is this an effective use of space? Do people actually pick these things up and read them while waiting for their large extra-foam hazelnut latti? In my experience, no.

Then, the question becomes why. Is it just ignorance, the same reason that people gloss over signs and ask librarians where the bathroom is 20 times an hour? Or is there something deeper? Maybe it’s the nature of the coffee line. To anecdotalize, I often use the time between ordering and sipping to prioritize my time while at the coffee shop: mental to-do lists and calendar review. I don’t have time to passively take in the scene and notice what Caribou is trying to tell me while I wait.

Anyway, this is the type of speculation I’m always engaging in, even when I don’t have to. I am uncertain, though, whether it’s a good thing or not.

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~ by dsubsilentio on February 25, 2010.