A recurring theme at this year’s ALA Midwinter Meeting was the lack of racial diversity in the library profession. MIT Libraries’ director Chris Bourg calls it the “unbearable whiteness of librarianship.” Featured speaker and Pulitzer prize-winning author Junot Diaz spoke passionately on this unbearableness, saying at one point that an “88% white [library profession] means 5000% percent agony for people of color.” Bourg gave whiteness an old-school smackdown during the panel debate “Are Libraries Neutral?” At the Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday Observance and Sunrise Celebration, University of Michigan librarian Alexandra Rivera referenced the struggles that librarians of color face in a society that often marginalizes them.
One thing I wanted to talk about –but did not have the nerve to bring up– was the whiteness of the ALA conference vendor representatives. During my many walks through the exhibit hall, I saw extraordinarily few people of color staffing the vendor tables. Being relatively new to ALA, I cannot say whether vendor whiteness is a trend at ALA conferences. I do know (as most library folks do) that there is a serious lack of diversity in the industry many of the conference vendors represent. According to the Diversity Baseline survey cited in the March 11, 2016 Publisher’s Weekly article “Why Publishing is So White”, the industry staff as a whole and the editorial staffs in particular are 79 and 82 per cent white, respectively.
This overwhelming whiteness impacts not only the faces we see in books, but also how books are edited and marketed. On a broader level, it affects the control and distribution of our nation’s historical capital. I listened uncomfortably as one white vendor representative at an all-white booth told me that her company offers digitized collections of women activists’ papers. The same vendor offers digitized versions of other primary sources pertaining to human rights. The idea of an 80 percent white industry selling access to the memories of anti-oppression warriors greatly disturbs me. What bothers me just as much is ALA conferences being co-sponsored by vendors whose hiring practices may not honor ALA’s stated values of diversity and inclusion.
This is an awkward topic. As I think about the conference support ALA receives from vendors, Hillary Clinton’s “How do you get tough on your banker?” comment comes to mind. Still, if we librarians support diversity, we must take a critical look at the vendors who help sponsor our gatherings. If their hiring practices appear at odds with our values, we need to think twice about partnering with them.
Speaking as an aspiring librarian, a self-published poet, and an ex-corporate employee of color, I personally would not mind paying a little extra money in conference fees if it would help reduce financial reliance on a conference vendor that is not practicing diversity in hiring. I realize all to well that not every ALA member can afford to pay more, but I think those that can should consider doing so.
If librarians want to see more diversity and inclusion in publishing, we need to advocate for it not only in authorship and content, but in editing and copyright ownership. How about inviting a mighty and racially diverse grouping of self-publishers to some discounted (or complimentary) space in the exhibit hall alongside the heavyweights? (Note-03/31/2018: Since this posting, I have learned about the ALA Diversity Publishers Pavilion, which addresses some, though not all, of my concerns about space – I’m not sure how many self-publishers can afford $1,050 for a kiosk rental.) Or what about a forum with vendors where we brainstorm on ways that the publishing industry could address racial bias in hiring?
I know these second-year MLIS student ideas of mine are not perfect, but the main idea is this: conferences that promote our development should also promote our values, at every level.
Copyright © 2018 Stacy Torian. All rights reserved.
Note (03/24/2018): I want to clarify what I mean by “partnering” in paragraph four. I understand that, at the present time, libraries have to buy materials from large publishers to satisfy our patrons’ needs. That said, there is a fundamental difference, in my mind, between buying from a large publisher and seeking the publisher’s sponsorship. The latter type of partnership (which places the publisher in a benefactor-type role) is the kind I am referring to in paragraph four.