alternative chicago, four years later

Update: here’s the Google maps version of the guide.

Four years ago, the last time that ALA Annual was in Chicago, I was a baby librarian and blogger living in the ‘burbs and thrilled to be going to my very first library conference. Four years later, I can’t quite believe all the things that have happened to me, and how many of them have their roots in that first conference, where I went to the first ever blog salon, met Jenna and Jessamyn for the first time at a Radical Reference meeting, shared a cab with Walt Crawford . . . the list goes on. I missed my four-year blog anniversary back in May, but it’s really hitting me now that I’m reading tweets about #ala2009 how much has happened since then, both in the world of technology and in my life.

I’m sad that I can’t be at the conference this year, as I have many dear friends and colleagues attending, but I’m so, so grateful to the internet, which is what introduced me to most of those friends and colleagues in the first place.

I was the only local in Radical Reference in Chicago in 2005, and one of the projects I took on, with a lot of help from my good friends at Third Coast Press, was to make a guide to alternative Chicago. I’m not sure how many of these places are still around, but I thought I’d share them again. I might even make you all a Google map of them tomorrow!

Librarians’ Guide to Some of Alternative Chicago

Maps for Librarians’ Guide to Alternative Chicago

[NB I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if I should move the apostrophe, since the guides were really only the work of one librarian, namely me — but they’re intended for many librarians, and so I’m going to go with my original, if grammatically quirky, punctuation.]

In any case, those of you who are there, enjoy the conference and the city — and those who are not, I’ll see you online.

coming together and falling apart

Things have been a bit slow at the library lately, as often happens in the summer when the weather is good, and so I’ve been getting to some of the far back burner items on my list. Today I decided I should check out my toread list in (You may already be thinking that this was a bad idea, and possibly it was, although it is not nearly as bad an idea (so far) as the time a couple of summers ago when I decided I wanted to reorganize all my tags. Don’t do that. Trust me.)

My account started in July 2005, just a few months after I started blogging. Today I’ve looked at some of the very first things I tagged to read and some of the most recent ones, and I’m struck both by how charmingly archaic early articles on folksonomies have become and by how relevant some of the ideas still are. User tagging of the catalog is not something that has really taken off, but user generated content in other areas has become incredibly valuable. I can’t imagine how I ever figured out what sort of consumer electronics products to buy in the days before Amazon reviews.

One of the newer things I’m reading, which I’ve really only started to peruse, is The Hyperlinked Society: Questioning Connections in the Digital Age. In the first essay of the collection, James G. Webster talks about how technology has brought about media fragmentation — we now have hundreds of cable channels and millions of websites where once we had only three networks. According to the fragmentation theorists, mass culture is now over, and technology is taking us all to the skinny end of that long tail, where we’ll all get just exactly the things we’re looking for but won’t have anything in common with society as a whole.

That’s a seductive argument, to be sure, but what struck me as I read about that and thought back to when I first heard of folksonomies is that in some ways, the technology that has developed alongside the idea of a folksonomy has actually the effect of bringing us back together. Consider, for instance, hashtags in Twitter. The election in Iran became a mass culture event in large part because of new media. People around the world were able to follow minute by minute news direct from Iran thanks to #iranelection. They were able to turn their avatars green and look at all the other people with green avatars and feel like they were a part of something. (I’m not, for the moment, interested in debating whether that actually constitutes doing something or being a part of it — the point here is that for the people involved, it clearly did feel that way.)

It’s true that watching a trending topic on Twitter is not the same kind of mass culture experience that, say, listening to Walter Cronkite give the latest body count from Vietnam was, and I doubt the numbers are anywhere close to the kind of viewership the evening news once had. But it is, I think, evidence that technology can gather as well as it can fragment, and I find that fascinating.