self-care – Rebecca Tolley

how do caring organizations feel to library workers?

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Answering this question will be different for everyone. No two libraries are alike. No two or three libraries employ the same demographics or experience the same organizational behaviors, and so while we can say that “Caring organizations feel safe to library workers,” or “Caring organizations feel welcoming and supportive to library workers,” what that looks like or how it manifests within the organizational dynamic differs greatly.

Given that, what actions can library administration and library leaders take in their creation of a caring organization? Obviously, my first answer is “look to the six principles of trauma informed care.” And yes, those principles guide the majority of my responses.

Safety is critical. I’ve worked with people who shirk in meetings because they expect personal attacks from more senior individuals. When leadership allows bullying, blame shifting, and other negative elements to take root within libraries, library workers don’t feel safe, they experience very limited trust, if any, and they realize that their voices are unimportant. That’s how a culture of silence and complicity permeates some workplaces. And how an organization feels uncaring to its workers.

Feeling cared for is relative. We all respond to different means. Having an extra day off is nice. Since COVID my university has granted us one or two paid days leave in addition to the time we accrue and paid holidays. Those were appreciated, but not every library or its parent organization can extend that kind of largesse to workers.

Isabel Espinal suggestions that microaffections and microaffirmations can go a long was in reducing the chilly work environments that POC experiences. Libraries maybe too sterile, too brisk, too “professional.” And as a Latinx person the lack of personal warmth in libraries affects how she feels at work. She recommends that we warm up the library for POC with pleasantries. Pleasantries create connection and caring.

Showing appreciation equitably is another means of spreading care around to everyone working in libraries. It seems as though one of two of the superstars or favorites receive all the accolades from leadership. Library leaderships shouldn’t let opportunities for everyone’s strengths to be acknowledged publicly pass them by.

My library has always been broke, so while there was never an abundance of swag or catered events celebrating library workers, there were times when we felt appreciated. When we were celebrated for no special reason by the dean treating us with a catered sundae bar. Food in workplaces can be tricky (as I wrote a few weeks ago), but, for me, it comes down to intent: Was leadership intentional about demonstrating their care and thoughtfulness for workers? Does leadership care about the impact of their actions? Are library workers invited to the table for the main event, or are they emailed when leftovers are available?

you earned it, take your leave time

Weekends and evenings and paid time off brought to us by generations of successful workers rallying for basic human rights in the workplace should be enjoyed, fully.

What kind of culture of self-care exists in your library? How encouraged are you by the higher ups to take annual leave, sick leave, if those are available to you? The tone library leaders set around taking leave time that you earned is a crucial element of modeling self-care and creating a culture embodying those principles.

I’ve know library workers whose supervisors questioned every hour of sick leave they took, ultimately remarking that they were using too much sick leave each month. Perhaps it’s a difference between managing, ahem micromanaging people, and leading them. Frankly, managers making statements along this vein seems illegal to me, but I’m not a lawyer. Similarly, supervisors telling their workers they need to be more “present,” is just as troubling, especially after commenting on how they tend to use their leave time rather than accrue hundreds and hundreds of hours, never calling in sick, never taking a break from the workplace.

What is presence in the workplace, anyway? And, is it achievable? My body may be physically present, but where is my mind? And I may be “always there” ready to jump in and help out, or ready with a quip or retort, but how authentic am I? I digress.

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Granted, many libraries are short-staffed and library workers wear dozens of hats, thus feeling guilty about taking your earned time off may be valid for anyone. However, for library workers to be their best at work and perform the emotional labor expected, they must have time away from work to restore equilibrium, find joy, and break from the minutiae of demands on their brains.

Balance may be difficult to attain, but it is essential for our self-care and wellness.

creating a culture of wellness in libraries around food & eating

Who hasn’t struggled with disordered eating? American culture foments it with our advertisements about food and sex and food and fitness and food and thinness/obesity.

How does disordered eating feed into wellness this month? And how do our library workplaces create cultures of wellness for those with food trauma?

Food trauma occurs with specific types of food and usually stem from an event someone experienced that causes them to feel anxious, insecure, and possibly surveilled when eating.

Someone with a high ACEs score may be more likely to experience anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, to being eating disorder. Caitlin Beale describes several types of food trauma:

restriction or deprivation
food insecurity
forced eating
sensory trauma
misunderstanding of neurodivergent behavior

It’s very easy for those with disordered eating to be misunderstood. When we avoid parties, potlucks, or receptions, or situations wherein food is present, our absence may be noted. Absences around team eating and socialization can be perceived poorly by supervisors. They may request that you be more “present” and appear at team-building events. And unless we disclose about our disordered eating and why workplace events with food may unsettle us, our absences could be counted against us or viewed as our not participating in team events. Or that “so and so” is a curmudgeon and doesn’t like to socialize with everyone else. When, in fact, the food may be the issue, not the emotional labor socialization entails.

Certainly many people are aware of how loaded that baked potato may be. Our greater awareness about dietary differences and how we accommodate gluten-free, vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian, etc. preferences is essential in promoting inclusion and belonging in our library workspaces.

Creating an affinity group in which library workers with disordered eating can support one another, and share and crowdsource strategies and tactics for dealing with this issue in the workplace is one idea. Convening a monthly trauma-informed/responsive book/information group with library workers may be another idea for stimulating conversations about food-related experiences.

This is one area in which trauma informed/responsive leadership can raise awareness of food trauma in the workplace, discuss this sensitive issue, take an environmental scan of food issues affecting their specific demographics, and model thoughtfulness in this domain.

Somewhat unrelated food for thought: public library workers are involved with summer feeding programs in their communities, which seems like another example of job creep, of library workers being all things to all members of their communities. More and more, library workers are expected to fill all the gaps that our social infrastructure is failing.

for wellness: add a plant or three

I think about big changes verses small changes. What is more effective? A big change would be grand and telegraphs CHANGE, but sometimes that can be misleading.

Believing that change, lasting change, is related to major investment of time or personnel is incorrect.

Research indicates that small changes of habits can be very effective for embodying discipline and nudging our thoughts and behaviors in directions that leave us feeling calm, refreshed, and supported.

My immediate office space boasts a plethora of plants. When campus community members visit our environs, they’re pleased by the welcoming sight of pathos, inch plant, dragon tree, Norfolk Island pine, and others in our otherwise

library work and wellness

As someone who promotes boundary-setting as an essential element of self care, I am pleased to see that August is National Wellness Month, and I’ll be posting about wellness during its span.

What healthy habits drive your library work?

Opting out of gossip?

Avoiding dramatic situations?

Taking all your federally-mandated breaks–including two 15-minute breaks and an hour lunch break?

As a trauma-informed and/or trauma-responsive library worker, modeling wellness in the workplace may be within your wheelhouse.

Wellness includes work/life balance. That slash [/] between the two words is a powerful symbol of separation. Of boundaries. Affirming and embodying that separation can be tough. My tendency to ruminate over past and present and future work happenings in the evenings and weekends at home robs me of my precious free-time and also makes focusing on my family challenging.

A few weeks ago I responded to an email late on a Friday night, after our traditional workday ended. I included a statement about the uncommon late email, and for others to respect their work boundaries and not feel pressured to read or respond to any email outside of their paid work time.

leading with vulnerability

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After nearly every talk/workshop/presentation I give I’m thanked by the organizer/facilitator for my vulnerability. Sometimes I feel as though I’m oversharing. But mostly, I’m just honest about the everyday mental health struggles I experience in my library workplace and how I establish boundaries with others to protect myself and my energy. Last blog, I shared about my library-induced panic attacks.

Here, a back channel exists in which check in with each other to learn about the “mood of the day.” Sharing this information with each other helps us pre-game meetings by taking anti-anxiety meds. Incidentally, centrally organized library back channels exist for BIPOC who want information about safe places where one can thrive: Greenbook for libraries.

Today I read Karina Hagelin’s “Surviving to thrive: creating a culture of radical vulnerability in libraries” which exists within LIS Interrupted. I’ve co-presented with them and admired their work a great deal and was pleasantly surprised when I saw their essay in the collection. Karina inspires my professional vulnerability.

Yet, I’m also exhausted by remaining silent, pretending, and performing collegiality in the workplace. Those actions, or lack of actions, daily impinge upon my sense of integrity. Martha Beck and Gabor Mate both write about how both our integrity is tied to our mental/physiological health. They’re negatively affected when we revert to our socially constructed “good girl” “good boy” “good child” personas instead of speaking the truth.

Karina defines radical vulnerability as “a praxis and a strategy of sharing openly about experienced, identities, and satires that have been stigmatized and weaponized against us, in order to keep us quiet, small, and powerless.”

How often do you surface act? It’s part of the emotional labor that many of us are expected to perform daily in our workplaces, both with the people we help as well as our colleagues and administrators. Karina describes this as “forcing a smile during a challenging experience” when actually you don’t want to smile. You want to scream or cry or leave the space immediately. They also write that answering something as simple as “How are you?” is stressful.

We follow social scripts in our lives. We’re programmed to ask others “How are you?” and the expected response is “Fine, how are you?” Admittedly, it’s a struggle for me to answer this honestly. I’m usually not fine at all. Yet I don’t want to share how I’m really feeling for a variety of reasons. First, it’s a matter of privacy; it’s not everyone’s business. Second, I don’t feel safe sharing how I truly feel, especially with an abuser. Keeping my boundaries engaged takes so much energy and forethought. I spend some time fabricating a benign yet truthful answer when an abuser asks “How is your Monday?” My answer: “Well… it’s a Monday…” which answers vaguely, and truthfully, so I’m not lying or pretending, or performing collegiality.

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Karina recommends we act in a manner that contributes to a culture of empathy and vulnerability. This includes showing up for others, holding space for others, and letting co-workers know they’re not alone, that we are someone whom they can trust.

library workers on May Day 2023

Last month we celebrated National Library Workers Day on April 25. My mom sent me a card. My library didn’t mention it.

Today is International Worker’s Day.

Some facts from the DPE:

Librarianship is overwhelmingly white (82%).

And old (31% over 55).

And underpaid for work in which undergraduate and graduate degrees are often required for entry-level positions.

Average and median salaries are listed as: $69,070 and $64,180. There’s regional and institutional variance.

As a feminized profession (82% women), pay and benefits may lag behind other industries since some library systems don’t offer health insurance, retirement plans, or paid leave. People working in libraries experience the glass ceiling and the glass escalator. They’re expected to perform emotional labor. Some aspects of their work are invisible labor (thanks, feminists, for offering this dynamic to the workplace).

According to Anne Helen Peterson and Joshua Dolezal and Xochitl Gonzalez Library workers are not okay. Peterson’s pronouncement came after keynoting the CALM conference in 2022. She cites burnout and demoralization. This year, Dolezal writes about the attack on tenure status of academic librarians being stripped away. And also in 2023, Gonzalez cataloged hate emails and threats that librarians get nowadays with rampant book banning and challenges.

Let us celebrate reform–the kind that is pro-worker, not pro-business– and revolution by dipping into a bit of Marx. Let us take our two 15-minute mandated breaks, and our one hour for lunch to honor the actions and sacrifices of our foremothers and forefathers who fought for us to have an eight hour day, five day week. And also, because we deserve those breaks. They are necessary for self-care.

unbroken: the trauma response is never wrong [book review]

Reading is something I do for leisure, for escape, and for continuing education. Since my work in trauma-informed libraries is SO trauma-focused, keeping abreast of what experts in the field publish is essential so that I can share the latest trends with my audiences.

Last week I read Unbroken: The trauma response is never wrong. What’s also super cool and serendipitous is another book she wrote: Merleau-Ponty and a phenomenology of trauma. Huge Merleau-Ponty fan.

If you’re new to reading about trauma, this is THE book for you. If you’re a trauma sage, McDonald offers a few novel ways of thinking about trauma and its role in our lives. New to me, at least, and since I’m a general audience, this is chockablock full of great information that can help us heal and be kinder to ourselves.

Early on she wrote: “undo what you think you know about trauma and replace it with what we know to be true.”

Whether it’s our religion, our culture, our workplace, or our biological families, we’re taught that we’re broken, that trauma breaks us and that we’re sad broken people, living sad broken lives, just barely coping because of all our triggers and symptoms.

WRONG. McDonald provides a healthy vision normalizing trauma. Our systems go off when we’re in emergency mode, and then they “toggle off,” McDonald wrote, if we have someone to help us retrain our nervous systems. But if we don’t have help toggling off, then we’re chronically feeling in danger, living inside a “never-ending feedback loop.”

She reframes the trauma response as as weakness to being rooted in strength. We are not weak. We are not dysfunctional. One component she discusses is moral injury as a component in the trauma experience. We’re haunted by the moral injury that accompanies trauma. McDonald says that you feel you have failed morally or your moral structures failed you. When this happens, you develop an inability to trust yourself or others. This is why safety is the number one principle/pillar in the TI Framework. Restoring our safety is essential for future health and wellness.

Triggers are about survival. Sometimes they’re so deeply within us, that we’re unaware they exist. She wrote “…triggers do not exist to remind us of what we should avoid. They exist so we do not forget, so that we integrate what has so far gone unintegrated. They are signs that there are things that we have not yet processed, sings there is work to be done.”

I had an aha moment while reading this book. In 1991 I was sexually assaulted. I repressed this knowledge for 20 years. Repression/suppression is my go-to coping method, as is disassociation. Immediately after, in 1991-1992, other than some “acting out” with binge drinking and casual sex, I was fine. A few months after being sexually assaulted I stayed with a classmate over the holiday break and played Tetris on her Nintendo for hours at a time. McDonald wrote: “Playing Tetris on your phone is a therapeutic tool.” Reader, I healed myself. Studies show that Tetris is “an effective adjunctive therapy for PTSD. It can mitigate intrusive memories and thoughts, potentially to help prevent the development… Studies suggest that playing the game for 20-60 minutes a day can lower your baseline anxiety level.” The study is by Oisin Butler et al.

She reminded me that we are both harmed and healed through relationships. This is key to why I wrote my book. Library workers– kind, caring, empathetic library workers– can heal with our stabilizing presence in someone’s life. McDonald mentioned “the first-grade teacher who remind you every day that you belong can counter the fact that you feel like your only job at home is to be invisible.” Her next example is the “bus driver who always shows up at the exact time with a smile on her face,” reminds us that reliability exists. Yeah, yeah, job creep. Not all librarians are reliable. Many are.

This is powerful: “the truth is, we all hold the keys to someone’s relational home.”

I could end on that, but there are two more things:

One, McDonald described how the pandemic and staying at home shut down her life (and ours too), but that the gift in that was that she had time to learn new hobbies. She acknowledges her privilege by reminding readers that not everyone had/has the luxury, the free time, the energy to try and sustain hobbies. Hobbies require input from working memory. When we’re triggered, this part of the brain isn’t operative. If we can cultivate working memory, we can “restore relative homeostasis to the brain.” She reminded me that some hobbies help us complete the stress cycle that we don’t learn to complete.

And two: tiny joys. This aligns with what we know about gratitude. Lots of advice abounds about counting gratitude as a practice to help us slow down and appreciate what positives exist in our lives instead of ruminating on what someone did to us at work that day. McDonald suggested we think the solution to a big problem is a big solution. But we’re wrong. Little joys do the trick.

This is beautiful: “Joy is an anchor-heavy, solid, reliable. It sinks to the ocean floor and tethers us so we are not unmoored but can only wander so far.”

real self care [book review]

One of my favorite new books focused on self care is Real self care by Pooja Lakshmin. If you’ve heard/seen me speak, or read my book, you know my ambivalence about self-care. It’s essential, but… I mentioned one of Lakshmi’s strategies at my talk at the LJ & SLJ public library youth services leadership summit in March, which I’ll expand on soon.

Taking care of ourselves is vital. Otherwise, we cannot help others, whether those are family, friends, colleagues, or our communities. Corporations are cashing in on self-care as the newest money-making wellness craze. Anything to make a dollar, right? The global wellness industries targeting women was valued at $4.4 trillion in 2020. And, instead of improving working conditions and organizational behaviors, as well as committing to systemic changes to upset the dominant paradigm, many workplaces don’t acknowledge their role in creating toxic cultures. Institutions/organizations escape accountability for their actions (or non-actions) by promoting wellness and self-care to their workers, without backing up their theatrics with actual changes like flexible work, subsidized support for caregivers, or safe/brave spaces where we can calm down after anxiety attacks in the workplace. And self-care is something we do on our own time, at home, to recover from the daily indignities, betrayals, micromanagement, micro aggressions, and other fun things happening to us in our workplaces.

Lakshmin says that real self-care is “radical work.” And she provides a healthy framework for crafting an individualized approach to your self care. She says that self-care that is not aligned with our personal values does us harm. Her program requires us getting real about our values and priorities.

She wrote: “…our true selves are located in our daily choices , and when you use faux self-care as a coping method for escape, you don’t have to make any real world decisions at all.” Escapist self care isn’t healthy. It’s a short term solution that doesn’t promote growth, healing, resilience (another concept I’m ambivalent about).

If human touch is highly valued, then a monthly massage aligns with your values, and hence, is a solid way to restore your mind, body, and spirit. If you’re sensually oriented, then having aromas of lavender, bergamot, and/or lemon wafting through your space jibes with your values. Lakshmin proposes that when we thoughtlessly pursue self-care activities that don’t mesh with our priorities, then we’re sabotaging ourselves.

Those aren’t even the best parts of her work. She talk about how looking for hacks and shortcuts to give us more time isn’t useful when we use those extra minutes or hours to add more work to our plates. We’re not resting enough. Doing nothing enough. She indicts the “American Dream,” patriarchy, white supremacy, and capitalism as elements contributing to our experiences of burnout, overwhelm, and mental illness.

Something I emphasize in my presentations about trauma-informed and trauma-responsive libraries are boundaries as self-care. This is not a new notion, but it’s something I arrived at by talking with other librarians about how to do this work well, without letting the emotional labor and invisible labor kill us. Saying no is a great boundary, but not one that many of us have agency to use as a definitive response to bosses, managers, employers, clients, etc. Lakshmin offers a solid alternative, the pause.

“Your boundary is in your pause– you can say yes, you can say no, or you can negotiate.” This practice disrupts our good girl/good boy cultural programming to say yes to everything and extend our energy beyond our capabilities.

I hope my review sold you on reading this book. It’s perfect for those just learning about self-care because it may set you on a healthy part from the start. And it’s perfect for those of us who’ve read dozens of self-care/self-help books because Lakshmin’s suggestions are sharp and effective.