Seems only right I should finish up library school right where I started it, sacked out on a sofa in the SLIS lab library with the Silver Surfer in my lap and Lake Mendota making ripply blue-on-blue patterns in front of me.
Went to my last class this morning. It’s all over but the shouting. (Lots of that, admittedly. Shindig for graduating students tomorrow, an interview with Carol Berger for a press release—a press release, how bizarre!—Tuesday, a farewell shindig for the departing Ed Cortez and the Beta Phi Mu initiation Thursday, graduation Saturday… lots of shouting.) I am the Fat Lady, folks, and I’m commencing to sing.
I’ve known people who despise graduations in general. I know plenty who despise library school, along with the accomplishment of graduating from it. The chap from Avalon who telephoned me asked if I felt that I learned something from library school, and he seemed decidedly nonplussed, even unnerved, at the enthusiasm of my affirmative.
These people? I’m going to be vulgar and say they can bite me. I’m proud of myself. I wasn’t at all sure I could do this. As much as I knew it was the right thing for me to do, I couldn’t help the occasional nasty skin-crawly sense that I’d screw it up, land back in the despondent brain-drained pit where the Department from Hell left me.
Didn’t. Didn’t screw it up. Didn’t land in any pits. Did learn. Did grow. Did jump on opportunities with both feet. Did do good work. Did give a little back.
And no matter what happens in the job market, no matter where I end up or what I end up doing, as of a week from Saturday, I’ll be a librarian. I’m proud of that, too.
