YOUR RELIGION OR YOUR JOB
Lowder University is a private university with an enrollment of 28,000 students. Its library contains
more than 1.4 million volumes and employs a staff of 225. Two months ago the library’s director retired,
however, and the university is currently searching for a replacement. There are three deputy directors:
one for public services, one for technical services, and one for automation. Forty seven year old
Rosemary Shahn had the most seniority, having worked as a deputy director for 11 years, and was
therefore appointed interim acting director. Easygoing and placid, Shahn was appreciated throughout the
library for her administrative ability and good judgment.
She needed those qualities now as she pondered this week’s personnel problem.
On Friday afternoon, Simon Leffler had presented himself unexpectedly at Shahn's door. Leffler, a
library programmer, was a subordinate three steps removed from her—Everett Coulter was the head of
database services and Lois Prager was the deputy director for library automation. Shahn thought it was
odd he would ask to speak with her, but she bade him enter.
“I'm in a work-related predicament," Leffler had said with a smile, “and I wonder if I might discuss it
with you. I've spoken to Everett and Lois, and you're the next person in line!"
Shahn had looked at him with confusion. "I'm the next in line? This must be important." She waved him
into her office.
Leffler entered but did not sit down. He stood in front of her desk, gripping the back of a chair. "I
appreciate this very much," he faltered. "I've been at the library exactly four months, three weeks, four
days, and five hours, and"—glancing at his watch—"37 minutes!"
Shahn looked at him with a faint smile. Leffler was one of two professional programmers in database
services. It was true that he had not been there long enough to have had his formal appraisal at the end of
the six-month probationary period, or she would know a bit more about him. He was a man of 28, tall
and clean, with a mop of dark brown hair and a thick brown beard concealing his chin and upper lip. He
dressed inconspicuously. His manner was pleasant and cordial. She assumed, with no indication
otherwise from either Prager or Coulter, that he and his work were satisfactory.
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Leffler went on. "About a month ago, due to my fiancée's influence, I left the Baptist Church and
became a Catholic. Next weekend I would like to attend a cursillo—a sort of religious retreat—with my
fiancée and members of her family and our parish. The problem is, the event starts on Thursday evening
and goes to Sunday evening, and it’s not the sort of thing you can drop in on. It's a total commitment for
the entire time. And I’d need to leave on Thursday afternoon, because it's being held at a Christian
Formation Center 120 miles from here. All in all, I’d be out of the office for half of Thursday and all of
Friday.”
He paused to take a breath. “On Wednesday I went to Everett and asked him if I could take that day and
a half as an unpaid leave of absence. He said he thought leaves of absence weren’t allowed until a
person had been working here six months. We checked the policy manual and he's right; the manual
states that employees can't have any vacation or time off, paid or unpaid, until they've been on the staff
six months. So he said he'd have to refuse my request. He said he couldn't make an exception in my case
because it would establish a precedent. He was sure that over the years other people had wanted time off
before they had been here six months, and their requests had been turned down."
Shahn could see what was coming.
"I went to Lois yesterday and asked her if she'd grant me the time off,” he continued. “There won't be
another opportunity like this for a whole year. I told her this is so important to me that unless the leave is
granted I'll have to resign as of next Wednesday. I don't want to resign. I like my job. I'm doing exactly
what I specialized in during library school."
"What did Lois say?"
"That she agreed with Everett, and that the policy had to be obeyed. That’s when I told her I'd have to
resign next Wednesday. She said that if that was the way I wanted to play it, she'd have to accept my
resignation. I told her that by my calculations I am only about three weeks shy of six months’ service.
That didn't sway her. She repeated some of Everett's arguments, but then she added something that
really disturbs me. She said it looked to her like a case of having to choose between my religion and my
job, that that's what this situation boils down to.”
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“I decided to try another tack. I reminded her that employees who haven't yet been with the library six
months are allowed time off if there’s a death in the immediate family or in case of illness. I told her that
I could have lied and said my sister died, or I could have said on Thursday morning that I felt ghastly ill
and needed to go home. I could have stayed out Friday and nobody would have suspected anything. I
asked her if there was no reward for being honest. You know what she said to this?"
"What?"
"That I'd get my reward in that great library in the sky. I think that's a terrible thing for a deputy director
to say. Don't you?"
There was a moment's awkwardness. This was the sort of remark for which Prager was famous. A 44
year old woman with nine years as a deputy director, she had an authoritative manner and tended to say
fearlessly what she was thinking, a habit that occasionally got her into trouble. Notwithstanding her
uncompromising, determined exterior, Prager was a good-natured, energetic, and charitable person who
enjoyed wide travel, the world of arts and letters, professional leadership and participation in a dozen
library associations, and an existence rich with diverse experience. As the only other in-house candidate,
she was said to have the inside track on the director position.
Under the circumstances, Shahn found it difficult to reply. She thought it better to say nothing, hoping
Leffler would continue.
"I'm asking you, Rosemary, as the next in line, to please grant me this day and a half leave."
Still taking it all in, Shahn shook her head reflectively. "I can't give you an answer today, Simon,” she
said. “One of us will be in touch with you sometime Monday."
Now it was Sunday and she felt no closer to a decision. "What do I do about this one?" she asked
herself.
Adapted from a case written by Dr. A. J. Anderson, Professor Emeritus, GSLIS, Simmons College
©2015 ABC-CLIO, LLC
THE PERFECT LITTLE MOUSY EMPLOYEES
If there was anything that was guaranteed to put Frank Cervanka in an unpleasant mood it was when he
sensed, rightly or wrongly, that one of his employees was about to make a suggestion or a request of
some sort. No matter how gently worded and tactfully presented, a suggestion was interpreted as a
criticism and a request as a complaint. So touchy and quick-tempered was Cervanka that everyone on
his staff took an immense amount of trouble to make themselves agreeable, and in discussions with him
(which they seldom initiated) they always proceeded with caution in order to avoid giving the
impression that they were finding fault with him or any of his procedures or decisions.
The members of the staff always knew when they were nearing dangerous ground. A hard and
unyielding look would come into Cervanka's eyes, the lines of his mouth would become firm and
determined, the veins of his temples would stand out, his face would flush an angry red, and his body
would become ramrod stiff. This sequence was well known by everyone on the staff, but they were
powerless to stop it once it had begun. They would sit there feeling like small and helpless sparrows in
the tightening coils of a mighty python, and all they could ever do was stammer their way to a feeble
and clumsy ending. In this way the "discussions" would terminate. It was always thus. But how often
they wanted to say," Why do you have to pounce on us in this way?" or, "Why can't you let us relax
when we talk to you?" They never did any such things for the reason that Cervanka was known to be
vindictive. One challenged him at one's peril.
Just why Cervanka would react in this manner is a question for psychologists. But perhaps deep down he
was manifesting a secret fear of being taken advantage of, or reacting to some past defeat of his own, or
working off some unconscious rage at life. Who knows? Whatever it was his subordinates had learned to
accept him and his peculiarities as one accepts an unfavorable climate - with resignation and
determination to make the best of it.
A sensitive man himself, Cervanka was strangely insensitive to the needs of others. From what the staff
could gather he seemed to think that a smile and a friendly greeting were all it took to maintain good
morale. Whenever he encountered them - in the corridors, in the workrooms - he would say:
"How's everything?"
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And they would respond: "Not bad. How about with you?"
"Pretty good."
This exchange varied slightly from time to time, but generally it followed on those lines. He never asked
about their interests, families, achievements, health, vacations, or whatever. And he never made any
comments on their work - good or bad. The so-called "evaluations" he was forced by the administration
to give annually consisted of meaningless little chats about nothing in particular.
This touchiness, this defensiveness, was concealed like a foreign substance in a rather suave exterior. No
one else - his supervisor, his peers, his professional colleagues, people outside the library - had any
inkling of this aspect of his personality. To others he was very friendly. He went about with a goodnatured expression on his face, and his manner was easy and cordial. Hence it required the exercise of
every scrap of self-control on the part of his subordinates to prevent the truth from bursting forth when
people would remark that Frank must be wonderful to work for - so friendly, so nice, so out-going. True
to their professional code of ethics they would nod politely - and then quickly change the subject.
Now there was one person on the staff of the Office of Computing and Information Services at the
University of Woodcliff, of which Frank Cervanka was director (he reported to the University
Librarian), who was able to avoid these nerve-exhausting encounters. That person was Marian Morath,
Cervanka's secretary. For reasons no one could explain, Morath could say whatever came into her head,
regardless of point or decorum, and get away with it - and, more importantly, she would usually get
what she wanted when she made requests. There seemed to be a mysterious bond of understanding
between these two that made this possible. And for some equally inexplicable reason the staff did not
resent Morath. As a matter of fact, they took advantage of her unique relationship with Cerenka and
would often ask her to present their requests for them. This sometimes worked, but not always - as
Teng-Zeng Wang can attest.
Teng-Zeng Wang was one of seven information and library professionals on the staff of eighteen in the
Office of Computing and Information Services. The Office serves the res3earch staff, faculty, and
graduate students at Woodcliff by providing computerized searches for publicly-available data bases.
Wang had been on the staff for four years - Cervanka had been there three - and is an energetic and
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competent information professional. Like everyone else she has found that in order to have any peace of
mind at work it is necessary to hold her tongue, keep her own counsel, and say what is expected of her.
Naturally, she was ashamed of herself for capitulating in this manner, but found it preferable to living on
pins and needles lest she say something wrong. The staff marveled at how easy they were to supervise so docile, so uncomplaining, so accepting. The perfect little mousy employees they called themselves.
But Teng-Zeng Wang was having trouble accepting one turned-down request that the secretary had
presented to her.
In the past few years, Wang had been experiencing pains in her lower back. So acute were they at times
that she sought the services of an orthopedic surgeon, who told her she should have an operation to
realign her vertebrae and discs. Wang wanted to avoid the risky operation so friends advised her to
consult a chiropractor, which she did. The chiropractor prescribed a series of treatments involving
adjustments and massage, and told her the chair she was sitting on at work might be contributing to her
problem. He suggested she ask her employer to buy her a special chair designed for people with back
problems. This Wand did - Via Marian Morath.
Two days later the secretary came back with Cervanka's response. If Wang was hoping, as she was, for a
positive response, she was doomed to disappointment. She was stunned by what the secretary told her.
"We all could use new chairs," Cervanka apparently had said. "And chiropractors are quacks." That was
it. No expression of sympathy. No concern. And, no new chair.
The information professional did not speak. She sat staring at Morath as though she could not believe
her ears. "I'm really sorry," the secretary felt obliged to add. "I tried my best." She dropped her hand
lightly on the other's shoulder. It was a gesture of good comradeship made by one who was genuinely
bothered by having to convey the disappointing news. With an eloquent shrug of her shoulders she
returned to her desk outside Cevanka's office.
Teng-Zeng Wang sat silent for a long time, thinking, and her thoughts were not pleasant. "How could a
person be so insensitive?" she asked herself. "The saddest thing of all is that Frank doesn't even ask how
I am, or express any interest in my problem. I'm expected to smile graciously when I see him and wear a
face that says everything is just wonderful. And I'm expected to be motivated - to be able to concentrate
fully on my work without being distracted. Hah! I wonder how a good boss would respond to my
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situation. To think that I haven't ever had what one of my professors called the 'luxury' of knowing what
it's like to work for a good boss. I do a good job in spite of my boss. Isn't that incredible? To do good
work in spite of being ignored, never thanked, and without any recognition. How do you deal with a
boss like Frank? Incredible! But what do I do now?"
A. J. Anderson (Professor Emeritus, GSLIS, Simmons College)
©2015 ABC-CLIO, LLC
THE POLITICALLY INCORRECT EMPLOYEE
Newly appointed Parkwood University library director Jeff Archer sighed as he read his email over his
first cup of coffee. Carol Parham, the head of the reference department, had forwarded a patron’s
complaint about Max Walker, a 63 year old reference department employee.
While working at the reference desk the previous evening, Max had apparently indicated his availability
to the next patron by saying, "I can help you over here, little lady." The patron had taken offense at
being called a little lady. She had filed a complaint with Carol, who was in turn passing the complaint
along to Jeff, as library policy decreed.
When Jeff pulled Max's personnel folder in order to add the new complaint, he noticed several other
complaints of this nature already in the folder. In each instance, a patron had complained when Max had
used an out-of-favor term in reference to a particular person or group of people. For example, he had
referred to a group of Korean students as "the Oriental kids.”
Other than the vocabulary complaints, however, Max's personnel record was excellent. In his 35 years at
the library, he had received many departmental awards for providing good service; it appeared that only
his lack of a master's degree in library science had prevented him from advancing very far along the
reference department career ladder. Max had always been a dependable employee and was willing to
pitch in whenever his help was needed. Indeed, since he was a bachelor, he had often been called upon
to work during the holidays or on weekends, and had always done so cheerfully.
Just as Jeff was replacing Max's folder in the file cabinet, Carol knocked on his door. "Since you're
holding Max's folder, I assume that you got my email message," she said. "What are we going to do
about Max? He's such a sweet guy, and I know that he doesn't mean to offend anyone. It's just that he's
30 years behind the times and he doesn't seem to realize it. I've talked with him on the other occasions
that he's received complaints, and he always apologizes and says he'll try to do better in the future. But
he also says that it's hard for an old dog to learn new tricks, which I imagine is true. It must be tough to
learn new ways of addressing people. But at the same time, we can't have him offending the people who
come to the reference desk for help."
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"Is there anywhere else Max could work?" Jeff asked.
"Not really," replied Carol. "He's only ever worked at the reference desk, so that's all he really knows
how to do. We could try to have him answer reference questions by email, so that he wouldn't be in
face-to-face contact with patrons, but he's a little hesitant with the computers. He can perform basic
functions, but he doesn't type very quickly, and it takes him a long time to figure out how to do what he
needs to do online. I’m afraid he'd become frustrated quickly if we were to reassign him to computer
reference duties."
"Do you know how much longer Max is planning on working at the library?" Jeff asked.
"Well, I know that he really loves his work, and he doesn't have any big plans for after he retires," Carol
said. "I suspect Max will be here for another four or five years at least."
If you were in Jeff's shoes, what would you do about Max? Why would you choose that course of
action?
Written by Cynthia Thomes
©2015 ABC-CLIO, LLC
DIFFERENTIAL TREATMENT?
As Robert walked into the library for the evening shift, he had a feeling that this was going to be another
one of those evenings. Robert worked as a paraprofessional at the Information Desk at Fairmead
Library, a medium-sized public library. Recently, his manager had left for a better job out west and Ms.
Regina Price had replaced him. Ever since, Robert had gotten the feeling that his job was in danger.
Robert did not think that he was the best library employee Fairmead had ever seen. After all, this was his
second job and he often came in tired after spending all day working in the accounting office at the
hospital - but despite this, he enjoyed his library job and especially getting to interact with people after a
long day shut up in his office alone. He had even suggested some changes to the way the library handled
their cash transactions, giving the library the benefit of his long years of accounting experience and
volunteering to train staff in the new methods.
But even that had caused the latest in a string of conflicts with Ms. Price. On a fairly slow Saturday,
Robert had attempted to teach one of the newer staff members the new cash procedure and Ms. Price
had sent word - through another employee - that he was to stop immediately, that he was distracting
patrons. This had made Robert's blood boil: How dare she interfere with training that had to be done?
And to humiliate him by sending an order through another employee?
She had been practicing this guerrilla warfare nearly since she had started her job three months prior.
She would sit nearby while he worked at the desk, but never talk to him the way she did with the other
employees. She would send email messages reminding him to do routine tasks that he had never failed
to do, but not to the other employees she supervised - he had checked. Today she had taped a large
message written in bold red ink to his computer monitor: "Robert - You MUST ask permission before
submitting a request for vacation. See me. RP". Robert sighed as he put down his belongings. Since
when did employees have to ask permission to ask permission to take off? Just last week Margaret had
given 24 hours oral notice before taking off for the beach. It was really starting to seem as though Robert
had become Ms. Price's scapegoat. He could do nothing right while the women he worked with could do
nothing wrong.
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At first, the idea that Ms. Price might have a problem with his gender had been the furthest from his
mind. Robert had gotten used to the idea that he was one of the only men working at the library, and so
had gotten out of the habit of thinking of himself as different. However, Robert had noticed that Ms.
Price acted very differently to male patrons at the Reference Desk than to females. With women, she
was very welcoming and accommodating, even anticipating requests and fulfilling them. But with men,
her demeanor became cold and she seemed to answer the questions asked with as little elaboration as
possible. After noticing this, Robert started to wonder whether her behavior to him was an extension of
this apparent antipathy.
As he emailed a reply to Ms. Price, Robert reflected she might fault him because he had not seen her in
person, although she had not waited for him to arrive. He worried that she was building a case for his
termination and wondered what he should do about the situation.
Is Robert the victim of sexual harassment? What can be done to lessen the possibility of such conduct?
Case written by Sarah Hays, UNC Chapel Hill SILS graduate
©2015 ABC-CLIO, LLC
LIBRARY LAYOFFS
Erin Jameson, a manager working at a small town library, has recently been placed in a tough situation
regarding the need to fire one of her four employees. The budget for the library has decreased
dramatically over the past three years due to the recession. The library staff has been forced to cut some
of their best programs and decrease the number of books, software programs, and resources being
bought. At this point in time, the manager has no choice but to lay off one of her four full time
employees and hire two part-time employees who collectively will work fewer hours than a full time
worker. The library staff are all very good friends from working together for years in the library. How is
Erin to choose?
After reviewing the information below on all four employees, complete the following:
1.
Set up a criteria for choosing who to lay off.
2.
Say who you would lay off and explain your reasoning.
3.
Identify key issues that should be considered in this situation.
4.
Develop a series of steps you would take in order to address all of these issues and handle the
firing.
5.
List an alternate solution the manager can pursue.
Employees:
1. Jane
Thomas:
2. Lauren
Hunt:
Jane is 44 years old with a husband and no children. She has been with the library for 3
years and is considered an asset because of her extensive involvement with the community.
Her husband is a member of the town School Board and Lion's club. She is the lowest paid
worker because of her fairly short time with the library and lack of a formal education in the
library systems. She often has trouble finding a solution or resource for users and is a slower
worker than the other three, but interacts very well with the library users. You fear that
firing Jane would cause the community to be upset with you and the library because of their
support of Jane.
Lauren is 56 years old. Her husband passed away this year and her children live far away.
She has been with the library for 15 years. She is the highest paid worker and deserves it
because of all the time she has put into the library. Although she can solve about any
problem a user has, she is often abrupt with users and you have received quite a few
complaints over the past year. You attribute this to her adjusting to life without her husband
and her children being so far away. She is by far the staff member with the most expertise,
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but her thought are very narrow and you wonder if bringing in two younger part time
employees would add some zest to the library after all the cuts it will have to undergo
3. Tom
Tom is 30 years old. He had no wife or children and has been with the library for 5 years.
Smith:
He brings a creative mindset to the library and has helped you develop innovative costcutting ideas over these past three years. He is the 3rd highest paid worker, although you
would give him a raise if possible because of all the help he has given in cutting costs. Your
main consideration for firing him is that he is young, very marketable, and has no family
ties. It would be easiest for him to pick up and find another job in a library. The library users
are fond of him as well
4. Lisa
Lisa is 33 years old with a husband and two-year old daughter. She has been with the library
Reynolds: for six years and was one of the best workers you've ever had. After she became pregnant,
Lisa focused much more of her attention on her family and began taking many days off.
This past year she has put you in the situation of having to call someone at 6 am on their day
off to come in because Lisa has had a conflict with the babysitter. You are close to her and
her family, but are reminded to consider the best interests of the library in this specific
situation. You think Lisa will be back on track and performing well again in a few months
when her mother moves into town (and therefore she has a reliable baby sitter), but you
think the other three employees will be upset if you were to fire them over Lisa because of
all the days she has taken off.
Case written by Kelly E. Hoffmann, a graduate of SILS, UNC-CH
©2015 ABC-CLIO, LLC
WHAT DO YOU WANT IN A LIBRARY DIRECTOR?
There was great rejoicing at the Fawville Public Library. Sam Grillo, the director, was leaving. The staff
had been hoping - praying - for this announcement since he arrived six months ago.
Why this rejoicing? Put to the direct question, as, for example, on the witness stand, the staff would have
answered, "Because the man has serious psychological problems that interfere with his and our ability to
do our jobs." Asked to elucidate, they would have said that he was timid, supersensitive, and morbidly
self-conscious. Timidity and shyness robbed him of all spontaneity and naturalness. He appeared cold,
reserved, and stiff.
Were a psychologist to be called to the witness stand and asked to explain Grillo's behavior, such an
expert might have spoken of his desire to return to the womb, meaning that the outside world seems so
harsh and hostile, and the winds of circumstance so cruel and chill, that the victim feels like curling up
in a shape that is literally embryonic, as though seeking refuge in a strange, dark, pre-natal condition.
Was it not for this reason that Grillo was so attached to his office…because it sheltered, and enveloped,
and gave the illusion of security? He would sit in it every day, tinkering with his computer, almost from
the moment he arrived until the moment he left. The few times he ventured out and encountered people,
they were invisible. When they spoke to him, he would answer but was clearly uncomfortable.
If the skeptical reader questions how this can be, it can only be said that there are such people in the
library field and they do become directors - incredible though it may seem. To deny that such people
exist is to close one's eyes to reality.
It would be a pleasant amelioration of the Grillo character to record that these unfortunate peculiarities
are redeemed by excellent mental endowments. Unfortunately it would not be true. His talents were
most ordinary.
The obvious retort would be that if this was indeed the case, how did Grillo become director in this
community of 14,000?
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To answer the question it is necessary to go back some 6 years to when Grillo was 22. He had a
bachelor's degree in art history, a course of study he drifted into. How to put this degree to use became a
major concern. When he surveyed the world of likely careers, nothing emerged. An aptitude test, taken
after he had been unemployed for six months, identified three possibilities: teacher, museum worker,
and librarian. Teaching was out because he wasn't much of a subject expert, and anyway he was far too
uncomfortable with young people. Investigating museum work yielded nothing…No one evinced the
slightest interest in his applications. That left librarianship - lucky it.
He applied to a library school. Since his GPA was 3.25 and his combined GRE 1040, and since his
academic references spoke favorable of him as a potential librarian ("He should do very well in the
library field," said one. "Admirably suited," said another), and since he had the right answers during the
interview with a library school faculty member, there was no reason to deny his admission. He attended
classes, never speaking unless asked a specific question. After a year he graduated - and remained totally
unchanged as a result of the experience. True, he had successfully completed the requirements of his
course, but other than impart facts the program did nothing for him.
How could it? There is a central core that is a person, and that core is always operative. Whitman put it
this way: "Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are picks its way." What he was
- shy, timid, unassertive, solitary - picked its way. By the time he got to graduate it was too late. The
damage had been done. People don't turn sharp corners. The good people who attend library school
remain good, and become better. They learn, and build on the central core. For the others the experience
is negligible - a union card. They leave as they came. To be sure they do the assignments, catalogue the
books, examine the sources, solve the simulated exercises, and so on, but their interactions with others
were fashioned long before they attend library school. (If you know your Principle of Psychology, and
you remember James' chapter on "Habit," which is one of the miracles of literature, you will know this.)
Now if you had been Sam Grillo, what would you have done? Whether you like it or not, he was now a
member of the library profession. A library school had put its seal of approval on him in the form of an
MLS. He had invested thousands of dollars in an education and he expected a return on his investment
in the form of a library job. Three library school faculty members wrote references on his behalf. He was
now ready.
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At this point the skeptical reader might say, "This is all very interesting, but is it true?" To which the
response has to be, "It is completely true." "But is it typical?" the still skeptical reader asks. A sigh.
"Very much so. But it would be a betrayal of confidence to reveal names and libraries."
Cynics quip that the place for someone like Sam Grillo is in a cataloguing department, which is exactly
where he wound up after an eight month job search. But he was not happy. He became restless. He
wanted out of the large city in which he was living and working, longed for the "peace and quiet" of a
small town.
An announcement for a director of the Fawville Public Library, advertised at an obscenely low salary,
appeared on the job board at Grillo's library school. He applied, was interviewed, and was offered the
position. There was no competition. No one who was not single and willing to live in a room, or married
with a spouse who was making a living wage, could afford to apply; for a married person it would be
pocket money. No married person applied.
You will not be surprised to learn that the board of three trustees (appointed by the town manager)
lacked experience interviewing applicants. They found Grillo's responses to their questions quite
satisfactory. They hired him without inviting the staff of seven non-professionals ever to meet him.
The former director had been one of those married people for whom his library salary was not the
mainstay of the family; he did have a library degree and left only because his wife took a job in another
part of the country. He had been director for 16 years. During those years he "ruled" the library, never
consulting with the staff on any matters except those concerned with their own immediate positions.
They were there to do his bidding. Hence it was that it did not occur to the trustees to confer with the
staff when they interviewed Grillo…the six women and one man had not been involved in anything of
consequence before so that must be the way things operate in the library field. The staff was not
unhappy to see the former director go, for vastly different reason…but let one of the all-purpose support
staff members pick up the story.
"You mustn't think that things didn't get done with Sam around, and aren't now while were director-less.
They did and are. We've 'muddled through' and managed to provide a measure of service for our users in
spite of Sam's total lack of leadership and involvement.
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"From what I've heard from people who work in other libraries, this is not uncommon - 'muddling
through' in spite of directors who hinder rather than help.
"We've selected material, tried our best with reference questions, ordered supplies and stuff, kept the
place going. But we resented having a sort-of 'kept' library director around, even on the crummy salary
he was making. It just didn't make any sense.
So one day we got together, mustered up courage, and approached the trustees. I should add
parenthetically that they've never been terribly involved in the library, but that's another matter. Well,
we weren't surprised to learn that they weren't overjoyed with Sam either. One, a fairly frequent library
user, had on several occasions sneered meaningfully in the direction of Sam's office when she was in, so
we had a clue that they were less than pleased.
"Anyhow, to make a long story short, they let him go at the end of his six months probationary period.
He put up no fuss at all. That was Sam. Weird!
"So here we are and here's what we need help with. We want and need a professional librarian. The
trustees, Lord love 'em, have asked us what we want in a library director, what qualities, attributes,
characteristics, abilities, talents, if you will, we think such a person should possess. Then, having come
up with a list - and, by the way, they want qualities specific to a public library director - they've told us
they want us to be in on the interview. Isn't that wonderful! We're going to get a chance to ask questions!
"But one of our concerns is how do you find out during an interview if the person has the qualities
you're looking for? People can say the right things, put on their best faces, but how do you know you're
getting what they say they would be like? We want someone who's skilled in the art of management.
How can we find out if he or she is? We've had the extremes - an 'autocrat' and an 'abdicator.' Is that all
there is?
"You see, when you're off and isolated the way we are with most of our contacts with other libraries
being of the ILL variety and occasional attendance at local library association meetings, we don't get
much in the way of help with our problems. The staff at the state library extension agency have been
very nice, but they really haven't been able to help us with our immediate concern - selecting the right
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person for the job. We've been burned - twice! An autocrat and an abdicator! How can we cut down on
the possibility of making another mistake?
"By the way, the trustees are working at getting the director's salary up to at least the average for
libraries our size."
There is a footnote to this story. Sam Grillo is no longer in the library field. He got a job in a small art
museum, helping to prepare its catalogues.
Written by Dr. A.J. Anderson. Professor Emeritus, Simmons College GSLIS
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A WORD TO THE WISE
Drew Pope put down his pencil, pushed back in his chair, stretched his arms overhead, and swung in a
half-circle so he could look out the window. It was a warm Indian-summer day. The maple trees that
lined the Allenby Public Library parking lot reached toward the sun like a hedge of orange fire. The
smell of their dry, aromatic leaves spiced the gentle breeze. "What a day to be inside!," he said,
meditatively addressing the emptiness of the room. With considerable reluctance, he spun his chair
around and was about to return to his papers when Preston Huish put his head into the room.
"Have a minute, Drew?" the selectman asked, perkily.
"Sure," smiled the library director, "Glad to see you. Won't you sit down, Preston?" He didn't know the
selectman well, but they were on a first-name basis.
Pope studied him with questioning eyes, his hand reaching for the coolish remainder of his coffee.
Huish spoke: "My daughter, Lisa, applied for a page's job at the beginning of September, and yesterday
she stopped by to see the circulation head to find out when she would be starting. Ms. Wren told her that
she was number 18 on the waiting list and that it would be quite some time before she would be called."
The dim thought at the back of the director's mind: "You're about to ask a favor of me. I can tell." But he
kept his own counsel.
The selectman continued: "Would you personally look into this and see if she can't be moved up on the
list? She's in her final year of high school, and she's saving to go away to college next year. She's bright
and a really reliable kid. I'd appreciate it if you'd move her to the top of the list." He fully expected the
director to acquiesce, for his eyebrows mounted ever so slightly.
A choking emotion, partly made up of incredulity and in part a burning resentment filled Drew Pope.
This-this isn't right, it isn't fair. You can't ask me to do this. Something within him brought him to his
feet. He was shocked, hurt, but his calm tone disclosed nothing of that. He explained to the selectman
that pages were hired on a "first come, first-take" basis, and that while there was considerable turnover
he doubted 18 would be needed in the year, perhaps three or four at best. He added that hiring pages was
the delegated responsibility of the head of circulation, and that he left it entirely up to her, seldom
becoming involved, except when there was a problem, which there rarely was.
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The selectman received this explanation in silence, but he fastened on the librarian a glance full of
sinister meaning. It said: "Look, pal, I can do things for you. Don't forget I'm chairman of the budget
committee. Your budget will probably be one of the first to be cut in these budget-slashing times. If you
want to fare reasonably well, you better play ball with me."
The logic of the thing was spread out plainly and irrefutably before Pope. And yet the thought of what
he was being asked to do to salvage the jeopardized budget outraged his every fiber. How he had always
anathematized those who took unscrupulous advantage of their positions, and those who succumbed to
their insolent methods.
All this filled his brain and throat, and clamored for expression; but not a protesting word escaped his
lips. He merely said, striving to conceal his anger: "I'll see what I can do."
Preston Huish smiled approvingly, expressed his thanks, and walked away with suave confidence.
The director returned to his paperwork, nothing in his heart but hot shame at having permitted himself to
be bullied into submission by this disagreeable public official.
After a time, he went to the circulation area.
"Hilda," he said, approaching the department head, who was computing next week's schedule at her desk
behind the charge-out counter, "Mr. Huish, one of the selectman, dropped by earlier today and asked me
if his daughter, Lisa, who has applied for a page's job, could start immediately. I told him I'd look into it.
He says she's eighteenth on the list."
Hilda Wren looked up, acknowledged that was so, and added, "We won't get to her by the time she
graduates. She came by to see me yesterday and I told her not to hold out any hope."
The director reached up and scratched the side of his head. "Are we hiring anyone soon?" he inquired.
"Yes, we need someone to start next Monday," was Wren's answer, curiosity and challenge in her voice.
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"Well," he responded quietly, turning his face away, "I think it would be advisable to offer the job to
Lisa."
"What!" she exclaimed, on a hard and inimical note. It was as if she had been given a dizzying blow.
The director saw at once that he must tread warily."
I needn't tell you," he suggested tentatively, with brow creased, "that Preston Huish is a very influential
person in town. We need all the help we can get to save our budget. We can't risk alienating him. He's
chairman of the budget committee and he wields a lot of power. I've been working very hard to establish
good relations with the powers-that-be, and I don't want to see my labors wiped out by denying one of
them a request. If I expect them to grant me requests, then I must be prepared to grant theirs. With these
assorted tax-cutting propositions being voted in right and left, we'll be the first to have out budget cut for
sure. Common sense dictates that we play ball with him. Don't make this more difficult than it is. A
word to the wise should be sufficient."
"I've already contacted the first person on the list," she said, with a low but intensely clear and precise
articulation. "He's coming in Monday." Her lips closed resolutely into a firm line.
Pope wasted not a second in responding. "You'll have to call him and tell him there's been a mix-up and
that he'll be called as soon as there's another opening."
Her eyes swept the room and then enveloped him in an icy glare. "I don't think it's right," she said with
that maddening clearness of articulation. "The kid I've called has been waiting patiently for a year and a
half for the job. He was thrilled to be called. He's a neighbor of mine. I know him and I like him. He's a
good kid. He's conscientious and takes his work seriously. He's been our paperboy for years, and he's
never been late one morning. I never moved him up on the list, although I could have many times and no
one would have known. I've never done this for anybody."
The director ran his hand along his cheek. He often did this, almost unconsciously, to avert an
immediate sign of reaction to an irksome confrontation. "Let's go to my office," he enjoined, noticing
that the circulation clerks were beginning to take an interest in the dialogue.
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Therein, Pope closed the door. "Look, Hilda," he began in a rather pleasant style, as he sat down and as
she sat down. "Let's be reasonable about this. I think we have to make an exception here."
The woman seemed to be trying to hide a growing personal anger toward him, and it kept her cool and
reserved. He waited for a comment, an acknowledgement-something. None came. He continued: "There
are two ways you can react to this: you can accept it gracefully or you can accept it unpleasantly.
Whichever, we're going to hire Lisa Huish, and that's all there is to it."
Wren found speech. "This is an order then," she said defiantly, "even though I'm supposedly in charge of
pages."
"Yes, if that's the way you want to take it." Neither of them relaxed the grip on each other's eyes.
"Very well, then, I'll do it," she responded sternly. "But I think it's wrong. It isn't fair to those who don't
have 'pull' that those who do get preferential treatment. I don't care who's involved. I think they should
wait their turn like everyone else. I'll call the young fellow and tell him there's been a mix-up, as you
suggest-I hope his parents don't raise a stink-then, I'll call Lisa Huish." And then, after what had almost
become an unbearable pause, "Yes, I'll do it, but I want you to know that it really sticks in my craw. It
violates all my principles."
A feeling of unshielded relief filled Pope's whole being. "Don't think I like it any better than you do," he
said, as it were appealing for approval. "But you can see, can't you, that we have to do it?"
That was not the thing to say. Wren threw him another malevolent look. "No, I don't see. I'm doing it
because you're the boss and I'm following orders. I want you to know that. I think you're usurping my
authority."
The library director decided to let well enough alone; after all, she had agreed. They parted with Pope
saying, by way of offering some consolatory remark, "Her father says she's reliable."
Lisa Huish was hired and started at the appointed time. She was to work every weekday afternoon from
3:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.; no Saturdays, at her request. (Wren felt she had compromised enough that she
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didn't even blink when Lisa announced that she would like to have her Saturdays free. Pages usually
work every other Saturday. The library is closed Sundays.)
Four weeks later, on a Friday, Hilda Wren came by the director's office to say that she didn't think Lisaher tone was distinctly facetious-was as reliable as her father thought. She was frequently late for work,
and she spent so much time talking with other pages and other people in the library that she was not
getting her work done. And she'd been absent five days in the month. When she called in sick the third
time, a week ago, the circulation head decided to have a talk with her. "As I approached her in the stacks
the following day," Wren related, "I heard her saying 'We spent yesterday afternoon at the movies; we
went from one theater right into the other, and got home at 6:30.' I didn't confront her with that, because
we can't afford to alienate Mr. Huish, can we?" Pope observed that her manner was mocking and not the
slightest bit sympathetic; a conspicuous coolness had existed between them since they had exchanged
views on the hiring of Lisa Huish. Wren went on: "I spoke to her about missing work and being tardy,
and she promised me she'd watch it. She's been absent twice this week and late twice, so obviously my
words haven't had much effect."
Pope flushed hotly at this disclosure. Wren translated the look on his face. It was a look of horror. He
looked up the selectman's telephone number at his dairy and dialed him.
"Hello, Preston," he began brusquely, "Drew Pope at the library. Look. . . . Fine, thanks. . . . Look Lisa
isn't working out as a page. She's been consistently late, she usually behind in her work, and she's been
absent 5 days out of 20. One of those days she was at the movies when she was supposed to be home
sick."
Hilda Wren ahemmed when she heard that, as if to indicate what a silly thing to say. "Rhinoceros!" she
said under her breath, shaking her head.
Pope continued speaking to Huish: "Last week sometime. . . . Ms. Wren overheard her say it in the
stacks. . . . Well, that's what she heard. . . ." He cupped his hand over the receiver and asked Wren what
day it was. "Thursday" was her reticent response. "Thursday," he said, speaking into the mouthpiece.
"Uh, huh. . . .: He began to tap his fingers nervously on the desk. "Well, anyway, she's been absent 5
days out of 20, she's frequently late, and she talks so much with her co-workers and the patrons that she
doesn't get the work done. . . . I suppose it is Mrs. Wren's word against Lisa's. . . . Ms. Wren has spoken
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to her and she's been absent twice since, and late, too. . . . All right. . . . Yes, I understand. . . . Perhaps
that will do some good. . . . Okay. . . . Goodbye."
"Preston's going to speak to her about it," Pope said as he clicked back the receiver. He proceeded to
relate the other side of the conversation: Huish was upset, not so much that Lisa wasn't working out but
that they, Pope and Wren, were bothered by it. He accused them of lying when they said she was at the
movies when she had called in sick. The reason Huish asked about the specific day was that Lisa had to
stay home with her mother on that day. Her mother hasn't been well lately.
"Lisa didn't say she was staying home to take care of her mother when she called in sick that time, did
she?" Pope asked Wren.
"No," replied the other, "she said she was sick."
"Well, I don't know what's going on," Pope continued disgustedly. "Anyway, to make a long story short,
Huish said he knows Lisa has been a little flighty at times. But he said she's a good girl and a good
worker. She just needs a good talking to. He said he'd be very disappointed to learn we were thinking of
letter her go. He said he'd speak to her himself. Let's see if he can whip her into shape."
Consistent with her conduct in this affair, Wren agreed to go along. "There's one thing I should add," she
threw in. "Several other pages have been complaining to me about Lisa. I thought you should know this,
too."
The library director strove to master his frustration. "Keep me posted on how she makes out," he said
resignedly.
Two weeks later, Wren popped her head in at his door. "I thought you should know that Lisa has been
out two days in the past two weeks," she announced, "one time not even calling in, and late three days."
Written by Dr. A. J. Anderson, Professor Emeritus, GSLIS, Simmons College
Taken from Problems in Library Management, Chapter 14
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CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR PROMOTION.
NOW HOW WILL YOU DEAL WITH STEVE?
On the whole, Ethel Shea reflected, the first week had gone quite well. Just last Friday afternoon she
had been one of four assistant librarians in the technical services department of the Calhoun Public
Library. Now she sat at the corner desk as head of the department, and her three former co-assistants
and the six clerks reported to her. Soon she would be interviewing applicants for her old job.
Shea recalled her fear and apprehension when the chief librarian (now her immediate supervisor) had
offered her the promotion. Certainly she wanted the job, but would the other three assistants accept her?
Would there be resentments? Could she assume the managerial role and still maintain the congenial but
guarded camaraderie that passes for friendship among professional rivals? In particular, would she be
able to handle Steve Cannon?
All four assistants had expressed their wishes to be considered for the position of head of technical
services when the former head announced his retirement. Steve Cannon, the senior assistant with five
years in his job, felt that he was the most deserving and appeared to be the most anxious to be chosen.
Ethel Shea was next in line with three and a half years in the job. Then came Juliet Flood with three
years and Jonas Kirsch with just over two. All four were in their late twenties or early thirties, but Steve
was the oldest. All four had worked only in the technical services department. The ads in Library
Journal and on the library’s web page had attracted several candidates, but none more promising than
Shea. Flood and Kirsh were never serious contenders. Cannon was Shea’s only apparent competitor for
the position.
She surmised that Cannon was not selected because, although he was unquestionably a person of
superior abilities, his temper was too volatile and easily triggered. He was one of those people whose
quick anger allowed him to tyrannize others. It forced co-workers to concede on almost any issue to
achieve a superficial harmony. To get along with Steve, one had to go along with him. From what Shea
and the others had observed, this dictum applied not only to his co-workers but to the former department
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head as well. The two of them were like water and oil, and the communication between them had been
maintained at only a minimum level during the five years they had worked together. Incredible as it
seemed, everyone (including his previous immediate supervisor) appeared to fear Cannon’s presence,
afraid that a look or word would disturb the precarious peace.
Shea’s brief reverie caused her to forget, momentarily, her new position. Soon, however, she turned to
speculating as to what she would do when the head of the reference department called and asked her to
send someone from technical services to help out at the reference desk because there was a rush of
patrons. Library policy dictated that when the reference desk was busy, professionals from the “behind
the scenes” departments would be dispatched to help out. The departments took turns providing the
assistance.
Soon enough the telephone rang and the head of reference asked Shea to send help to the reference desk.
Despite her fear and dread of what was coming, Shea said, “Someone will be right over.” Shea pictured
the flush of anger on Steve’s face if she asked him to go. She imagined the exasperation and scorn in his
tone as he said, “I don’t go on reference, remember?” How much easier it would be to ask Flood or
Kirsch. But was that fair? How many times in the past had the four of them chatted among themselves
about how much they disliked disrupting their own work to assist at the reference desk? Predictably,
Cannon had vowed he would never go. Typically the previous head of technical services had never
asked him to because he couldn’t bear a scene. He always asked one of the others, and one of three
always obliged, if sometimes begrudgingly.
Shea wondered why Cannon’s stubbornness had been tolerated for so long. She had often hoped he
would resign, get fired or be transferred. The Calhoun staff was not unionized. Cannon could have
been fired without too much fanfare. She really knew the answer: He was kept on because he was good
at his work and because the previous head lacked the courage to confront Steve about his behavior. In
the obligatory annual appraisal interviews, the previous head merely praised Cannon’s work
performance and let it go at that. Beyond that, since it would have reflected unfavorably on him as a
manager, the former head had attempted to conceal his difficulties with Cannon. In this endeavor, he
may have been successful with people outside the department, but not with his own staff who had little
respect for him because they felt he abrogated his responsibilities regarding Cannon.
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Shea vowed that she would not be reduced to unfair compromises concerning Cannon. She summoned
him to her desk and with improvised casualness, asked him to go to the reference department. The
effect was instantaneous. He behaved precisely as she had anticipated – with a flash of indignation.
“Why does he always have to be so disagreeable?” she thought. Restraining a savage urge to smash her
fist into his face, she quietly repeated her request. With the fire of battle in his eye, Cannon repeated
that he was not going, turned and marched back to his desk.
To Shea the room seemed to fill with threatening, accusing eyes, a multitude of shadowy voices
shouting, “You’re no more effective than your predecessor!” Shea felt extremely awkward and very
much at a loss as to what to do under the circumstances.
Adapted from A. J. Anderson
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