“Neutrality doesn’t encourage our critical thinking; it doesn’t ask us to question facts that are wrong, or behaviors that are prejudiced. By this measure, neutrality doesn’t necessarily reveal injustice but further entrenches it, which is ironic…Neutrality becomes a way to avoid questions or ethics that are wrong or make people uncomfortable…[Neutrality] That’s an outdated fantasy.” – Stacie Williams, Librarian
“Librarians, we are not neutral. We need to collectively challenge institutional demands for us to not be political. Avoiding “politics” is a privilege your colleagues of Color may not share as our lived experience is political.” – from Tips for New White Librarians from a First Nations Librarian from So Called “Australia
The following text has been adapted from a Keynote talk I gave in Spanish titled: Agindaasoowigamig, Gdasowgëmëk, Amoxkaltsin: los pueblos originarios en el medio oeste de EE. UU. y el compromiso comunitario en la biblioteca Newberry para un mejor acceso a la colección de estudios indígenas for the “Espacios Sagrados. Umbrales y fronteras,” (Sacred Spaces: Thresholds and Borders), conference in 2023.
As I was preparing for the talk, I kept getting stuck on the title of the conference, “Sacred Spaces.” I posed a question to myself: Are Libraries Sacred? I love libraries, obviously, and I recall visiting libraries often as a child. I have often heard some describe libraries as sacred, but I want to challenge this thinking and ask: Are the foundational principals and histories of contemporary libraries sacred? Who are libraries as we know them today, sacred to? And, what role do libraries have for Indigenous communities? I will possibly expand on this talk into an essay in the future but for now, enjoy the small excerpt where I attempt to think through these questions. The talk was much longer but I only included the portion on the “sacredness” of libraries. I am working on adding a works cited section towards the end. (3/25/24)
Featured image: Otomi textile weaving pattern called “Tenango” which is just a suffix in the Nahuatl language that means “place of” or “home of.” Tenango is a style of embroidery which originated in the Tenango de Doria municipality in the Mexican state of Hidalgo. It is a commercialized version of traditional Otomi embroidery, which was developed in the 1960s in response to an economic crisis. It is estimated at over 1,200 artisans practice the craft in Tenango de Doria and the neighborhing municipality of San Bartolo Tutotepec. Tenango artisans also include “illustrators” who trace the designs on the blanket fabric. Each cartoonist has his or her own style, and their designs are often influenced by the experiences of the community. In addition to natural motifs, we can also find designs related to migration, planting corn, or celebrations such as Day of the Dead. Read more about this history.
Transcript:
Introduction: Many thanks to UNAM Chicago and all the organizers for the invitation to participate in this panel today. And thanks to all of you for being here. I’d like to start with a land acknowledgement I created specifically for my visit today and then one done by Newberry. First, I am here from Šikaakonki, Zhigaagoong, Zhekagoynak or so called “Chicago,” Indigenous peoples have been the stewards and protectors of the Lands we now call Mexico and the Americas since time immemorial. In the history of these Lands, settlers and settler colonial states have only occupied this space for less than five hundred years so as a person living on land not historically where my ancestors are from, I need to be a good relative, neighbor, family and friends to Indigenous people whose land I live. Land my ancestors migrated to from so-called Mexico. So I encourage you all to support Native and Indigenous groups and organizations, be it back home where you are from or here in Oaxaca.
[I showed slides of of the Newberry’s Land Acknowledgement during this section]
What is a Land Acknowledgement? Now, you may be wondering, what is a Land Acknowledgment? It is not a ceremony but a gesture, intended to affirm a commitment to, and support of, Native American and Indigenous sovereignty, Native people and history. It is intended to recognize the ongoing presence of Native people at your institution, organization and across the continent. Today, land acknowledgments are used by non-Natives and Native Peoples to recognize Indigenous Peoples who are the original stewards of the lands on which we now live. It’s a statement that recognizes a place where Indigenous peoples have lived historically and continue to live today. It calls attention to Indigenous peoples’ ongoing connections to a place and to the importance of confronting the often violent history that forced them from that land. It also recognizes how institutions have benefited from dispossession and settler colonialism, as well as how they can work with the tribal communities whose land they are situated on to explain this difficult history to the public. (from Newberry Library Acknowledgement) Recognizing this context is very important, not only to remember the historical context, but also to recognize the present and future of the native peoples who are still oppressed.
Now, just to tell you a little about myself: I am part of the Indigenous diaspora in Chicago. My family is Huachichil/Xi’úi from San Luis Potosí, Mexico, specifically from two towns, El Aguaje de Garcia and Santa Catarina, but we have been in Chicago since the 1950s. I was born and raised, and still reside on Chicago’s Southwest Side in the Little Village neighborhood. I have been working in non-profit organizations, libraries and museums in Chicago for close to 20 years. I have been working as the Librarian and Assistant Curator of the Indigenous Studies Collection at Newberry since 2017. While I have many interests, my passion lies in intentional community collaborations to access materials within colonial institutions and preservations and revitalization of Indigenous languages.
The term “library” in different indigenous languages
As I was preparing for this presentation I wondered about the term for “library” in different Indigenous languages from the Midwest, where I’m visiting from but also in Zapotec which would be a language spoken here in Oaxaca. As I began speaking to speakers of these languages it reminded me of an event we did at the Library titled “Indigenous Languages and Peoples in the Midwest,” where we then asked each participant to translate the title in their respective language. As you can see, each one was very different.
As we know each Indigenous community has its own way of seeing and describing the world and the term for library is no exception. There is much to learn for Indigenous cosmovisions and Indigenous knowledge that is often marginalized or suppressed by Western worldviews. I want to play each word so they vibrate throughout the space here today and I invite you to attempt to pronounce them as well:
- Agindaasoowigamig (a-gin-daa-soow-iga-mig)
- Amoxkaltsin (Nahuatl)
- Gdasowgëmëk (Potawatomi)
- Lídxi gui’chi (Zapoteco)
- Waagax Hakiruxara Hoci (Ho-Chunk) (waa-gaj ha-kiruj-ara ho-chi)
Are Libraries Sacred?
Libraries are beloved institutions both in practice and in the public imagination and libraries are described by authors, philosophers, and intellectuals with lofty words such as temples, sacred places, and sanctuaries. Libraries are home to centuries of learning, information, history, and “truth.” At times, libraries are important advocates in the fight against misinformation. By providing free access to educational, historical, and news resources, libraries help keep the public informed with facts, rather than confused with fiction. Similar to this, professional library literature promotes the idea that libraries themselves bring about democracy, education, and “civilization.” It also equates the job of librarians with the actual buildings themselves. The idea that libraries are “good” and “sacred places” leads to the conclusion that what librarians do must also be “good,” which supports the narrative that libraries are both “good” and “sacred places,” and as such are therefore beyond critique” (Knowledge Justice, p. 45) which I do not one hundred percent agree with since libraries, as we know them today, are also extensions of the colonial project. (The Collector and the Collected, Decolonizing Area Studies Librarianship, p. 45)
Here you are seeing a picture of the Biblioteca Palafoxiana, located in Puebla, Mexico, founded in 1646 and is recognized by UNESCO for being the “first” and oldest public library in the Americas.
However, I would argue that plenty of libraries existed and continue to exist prior to this one. We already know that Mexico had sites for the transmission and dissemination of knowledge long before the invasion of the Spaniards in 1519. Indigenous people in so-called Mexico had library-like institutions known as Amoxcalli’s, “the house of the Amoxtli” or “the house of the book.” A library is defined as “a collection or group of collections of books and/or other print or non-print materials organized and maintained for use.” By this definition, libraries exist around us, people are libraries, grandparents are libraries, the land, plants, animals carry entire libraries of knowledge.
Historically, Spanish colonizers established some of the first libraries in temples and seminaries that primarily contained religious literature. For example, Jerónimo de Aguilar, Hernán Cortés’ interpreter, carried a breviary called Libros de Horas as one of the earliest books in the Americas. Despite being shipwrecked, Cortés’ group managed to salvage the book in 1511. Since the cathedral officially had a library and its own printing press by 1534, it is estimated that there were more volumes in Mexico two decades later. In 1539, Jacobo Cromberg and printer Juan Pablos traveled to Mexico from Seville with the first printing press. It also developed into the continent’s first printing press (seen below). But it’s important to keep in mind that these colonial libraries were primarily for Spanish people, not necessarily for Indigenous people.
Indigenous peoples still encounter substantial obstacles
In situating this complex history of libraries, we can begin to understand how Indigenous peoples still encounter substantial obstacles to library services despite the fact that the fields of Indigenous Studies and Indigenous librarianship are expanding quickly (in the United States context). Structural barriers include persistent issues with non-Indigenous knowledge organization methods, a lack of ownership over Indigenous intellectual property, inadequate access to technology in Indigenous communities, and a lack of diversity within the library profession itself.
Issues related to knowledge organization include problems with the standard systems used by many libraries and archives for subject headings, descriptions, or metadata; these systems use culturally biased metadata benefiting the colonial mindset and organizational schemes, instead of Indigenous knowledge systems. Many Indigenous people have found it challenging to conduct research in most archives and libraries due to these paradigms, which have been present for well over a century.
[This section is adapted from another talk I gave at a University that I will be working into the above talk for an essay]
Library Trends
In the U.S. there is a total of 9, 057 Public Libraries which includes: Special Libraries***- 5,150, Armed Forces Libraries – 239, Government Libraries – 867. The most common ethnicity of Librarians taken from the American Library Association’s 2000 Census estimates data (and only counting credentialed librarians), that is, those with a Masters degree accredited by the American Library Association: White 89%, Black or African American 5%, Hispanic or Latinx 2%, Native American/Alaskan <1%, Asian/Pacific Islander 3% and two or more 1%. You could also go to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics annual report from 2010 and extract more current information but it’s not going to change much. It’s an overwhelming white profession.
Libraries are not neutral
A common discourse taught in library school is the importance of the librarian as an objective and neutral professional. As a public service, librarians we are indoctrinated into the belief that we must serve the entire public equally regardless of moral values and political views, and as librarians our primary role is that of a mediator in the public’s access to information and knowledge. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution states that Congress cannot create any laws limiting people’s freedom of speech or expression, and in the library setting this is used to ensure that patrons maintain the right to receive information. It is in this quest to provide information to all people that libraries have adopted the idea of “neutrality.” Since the 1920s, librarians have been advocating for the transformation into an intellectual and scientific academic discipline, which has historically placed the importance of neutrality and objectivity above those of ethical and moral considerations.
What do you think? Are libraries neutral?
This topic comes up often. (Do you think libraries are neutral? What do you think about when you hear the term “neutrality”?) For librarians, neutrality has a few dimensions. First is service. The Library Bill of Rights, Article V, says: “a person’s right to use a library should not be denied or abridged because of origin, age, background, or views.” By policy we are not supposed to give preferential treatment to those who agree with us or discriminate against those who don’t. The second dimension is access to facilities, including programs and technology.
For example, if the Democrats get to use the room, you can’t deny access to the Republicans. The third dimension of neutrality is collections. Public scrutiny is the best defense against the spread of poisonous ideology, right?. Library collections, even if they begin perfectly balanced on a topic, change because of three key factors: what the community wants more of, what we know about what’s published, and the ongoing consensus of the field. But, as the amazing librarian Stacie Williams once wrote, “neutrality becomes a way to avoid questions or ethics that are wrong or make people uncomfortable.”
Article VII of the American Library Association’s Code of Ethics, amended in 2008 but first adopted in 1939, says “[W]e distinguish between our personal convictions and professional duties and do not allow our personal beliefs to interfere with fair representation of the aims of our institutions or the provision of access to their information resources.” However, Williams encourages to think: how do we reconcile the contradictions of a profession that is [praised] for being a critical institution that upholds democracy with the history of Melvil Dewey’s sexism and the legacy of pre-Civil Rights era segregated public libraries, which went unchallenged by the ALA, who upheld the morally reprehensible status quo? We can’t be neutral. But we can be aware. We can really see who we’re working with and who we’re hoping to serve and understand that an approach that asks anyone to be invisible or accept a default status quo that allows others to question their existence has not ever been the way forward. That’s an outdated fantasy that needs to be weeded out. Now, more than ever before, librarians should be fighting hard to see everyone, acknowledge the ways in which we are different and the ways in which we can move forward together.”
Here is a fantastic tip sheet for white librarians written by a First Nations Librarian in so-called “Australia,” titled “Tips for New White Librarians from a First Nations Librarian from So Called “Australia”:
- Be political, it is not an option for some – Like the above point, librarians, we are not neutral. We need to collectively challenge institutional demands for us to not be political. Avoiding “politics” is a privilege your colleagues of Color may not share as our lived experience is political.
- Challenge the myth that libraries are inherently good – Libraries need to do to be good. Libraries simply existing isn’t enough if they are not self-reflecting on their own complicity in oppressive structures. You’ll hear statements like libraries and archives as pillars of democracy but what does that mean given the lack of marginalized people’s perspectives and voices within those organizations? What does this say about democracy?
- Constantly question who’s being centered – This is aimed more towards those engaging in anti-racism work, often excited white people who want change can center themselves in discussions about race and decolonisation. This can erase the work of colleagues of Color and something you should be mindful of. As a person who’s people historically aren’t from these areas and isn’t Native American but rather part of the diaspora of Indigenous people from so-called Mexico, I often have to question how much space I take up in discussions.
- Diversity is not a synonym for decolonisation. Diversity is not a synonym for anti-racism. Read Decolonization is not a metaphor by Tuck and Yang.
Works Cited (still compiling)
The collector and the collected : decolonizing area studies librarianship. (2021). . Library Juice Press.
Knowledge justice : disrupting library and information studies through critical race theory. (2021). . MIT Press.
Ettarh, F., Macias, M., Lizzybell, Correction, Koester, A., Farkas, M., Anon, Meredith, Rader, R., Alyn, Cj, Tillman, R., Kathy, Veronica, Falck, A., Gullett, M., Cushing, L., Karl, Dd, … Rose. (n.d.). Vocational awe and librarianship: The lies we tell ourselves. In the Library with the Lead Pipe. https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/
