Note: The text below is excerpted from the ‘Introduction’ to Libraries Promoting Reflective Dialogue in Times of Political Polarization. The full introduction can also be accessed here.
“The idea for this book arose at a specific point in time and place: the winter of 2017, a time of great political polarization in the U.S. The campaigns and rhetoric of the 2016 U.S. Presidential election undeniably reflected a divided country. This tension has seemingly intensified further since the election, making evident conflicts that have long resided under the surface. Amidst these social and political tensions, extremist ideologies have often been affirmed, public and political discourse have become even more contentious, and many individuals and groups have felt disenfranchised, marginalized, and silenced.
Libraries, archives, and other educational settings, along with the people who inhabit them, have been deeply affected by this chilly climate. Immediately following the election, as those with extremist ideologies felt emboldened, many students in schools and on college campuses across the country, particularly those from historically marginalized groups, felt less safe on the street, in the classroom, and in dorm rooms.
Additionally, as faculty explore their normal, often controversial, lines of inquiry and teach their students, many are being targeted and harassed by radicalized students and community members. Many international students and undocumented DACA students remain uncertain if they will be allowed to stay in the U.S. Some campuses and states have spoken out about these issues, whether in subtle or bold ways. Others have remained silent, often out of an understandable fear of the potential consequences at a time when financial resources are already scarce and when state funding matters.
Access to public information and historical preservation have also become a heightened concern for. archivists, librarians, and activists. Many have worked to save government web pages and public files from offices like the Environmental Protection Agency and the Center for Disease Control, as some of this information has been removed from public view.
In light of such developments, the ALA Core Values of Librarianship – principles like access for all, democracy, diversity, intellectual freedom, the public good – have taken on new weight. The argument for library “neutrality” has become a much harder one to make, though that debate still continues.
This time could have been – and we’d like to believe still can be – a moment for positive social change, for more intentional reflection, listening, and empathy across social groups and identities. And in many corners and pockets it has been and continues to be. In the face of this confusion, there have been many recent calls across the U.S. and in librarianship for more dialogue: opportunities to look beyond difference at our common humanity, to hear and to empathize with “the other side,” and to work for the common good.
Such calls for dialogue are, in principle, hard to disagree with. The realities, of course, are more complicated. How does one engage in “reflective dialogue” when doing so could result in physical or psychological harm to oneself or one’s loved ones? How does one listen to and appreciate “the other side” if that side is based on the belief that a given individual or social group is inherently unworthy, or that one’s closest relationships are immoral? In some cases, dialogue may not be constructive or desirable. Dialogue has the potential to reinforce unequal power relations and to marginalize certain voices, while appearing to be open and inclusive. On the other hand, the extreme alternative of giving up altogether on dialogue, while perhaps sometimes easier in the short run, closes off a tremendous amount of potential for ourselves, our communities, and our world.
This book won’t provide a single or simple definition of dialogue; nor will it offer a quick guide to fostering in constructive ways (though a number of chapters do offer helpful guidance on facilitating difficult conversations). When we put out this book’s call for contributions, we sought to keep it open to all areas of libraries and librarianship, with the understanding that dialogue would take different forms and sometimes have different meanings within these various contexts. The fact that one’s conception of the term dialogue” depends greatly on their environment and community is reflected in the varied understandings of, approaches to, and questions about dialogue that are shared in these chapters.
But we also cannot altogether sidestep the question of what we mean by “reflective dialogue.” There are some qualities of constructive reflective dialogue on which most people are likely to agree. Reflective dialogue asks us to pause before reacting, to notice what’s happening in ourselves, to ground ourselves in a sense of compassion for ourselves and others, and with that grounding to open a space to listen and to speak, not with the aim of convincing someone else that we are right, but rather with the goal of recognizing a shared humanity and appreciating difference, as well as the inevitable limitations of our own understanding. We work from the belief that while all dialogue is complex and while reflective dialogue is not always possible in all contexts, it is especially needed in a time of great division.
In fact, just focusing on how this type of dialogue might happen, and consciously working toward seeing that it continues to thrive, might be one of the most empowering and transformative things we can do at this time. Remaining creative and engaged as we face these challenges will certainly earn us extra style points. Because of the larger political pressures acting out on campuses and in libraries, librarianship may be at a critical juncture. This disruption may shake many of the foundations of our profession, but it may also be a golden opportunity. A time to look at the idea of “library neutrality” in a new and more critical way, and perhaps see the library as an undeniably political place.
This book’s discussions on librarians and reflective dialogue are expansive, and the methods used in the chapters range from case studies, to essays, to autoethnographies. At the same time that we celebrate this diversity, we also recognize our limitations. All authors work in academic libraries, primarily in the United States (one author works in the United Kingdom). That said, many contributors have extended their dialogic work beyond their academic communities. And while political polarization has taken unique shapes and forms within the U.S., many of the issues raised in these chapters have relevance across geographic borders. Another limitation of this book, as several authors suggest, is that librarianship has long been a predominantly white, middle-class, cis-gender, and liberal-leaning profession, and this is evident in many though not all of the chapters. Read with the knowledge of these limitations, it is the hope of the editors that these chapters, while growing out of a certain time and place, may have relevance and resonance in other locations and in the future as well.
The book is organized into the following four sections:
- Libraries as Dialogic Spaces: Limits & Possibilities
- Dialogue amidst Polarization & Extreme Skepticism: Challenges and Opportunities
- Special Collections & Archives: Past & Present in Conversation
- The Information Literacy Classroom: Uneasy Questions, Creative Responses
While this book has been written in a particular time and context, the authors repeatedly illustrate that social and ideological differences have always been critical to library, archival, and information work and will remain so. We hope that this publication is a catalyst and a resource for the kind of reflective and constructive dialogue that we have described here. We also hope the book is a prompt for asking hard and sometimes uncomfortable questions about what reflective dialogue is, what forms it might take and in what contexts, who it does or does not include, and what its possibilities and limitations are.
Acknowledgements
We would like to express our sincere thanks to each of the individuals who contributed to this book, including Jonathan Cope for his thought-provoking forward; each of the chapter authors for their unique perspectives and contributions; Erin Nevius of ACRL Publications for her insightful feedback, guidance, and enthusiasm; and the many people at ACRL Publications who assisted with bringing this book to print. Thank you also to our own universities and libraries at the University of West Georgia, Penn State University, and Portland State University, as well as to the many other institutions and colleagues who provided us with the support and encouragement to pursue this project.”
Libraries Promoting Reflective Dialogue 