Abstract
This article positions the practice of working with readers in academic libraries as a diversity practice and examines this practice through the lens of the Diversity by Design concept. We use Diversity by Design to propose and explicate a differentiated approach to reading promotion on campus, drawing attention to the broader and multiple meanings of diversity in the context of reading engagements. We look at the differentiated nature of readerships on campuses as an expression of inherent diversity in North American institutions of higher education and, by extension, academic libraries. We also make specific recommendations on how to give reading practices in academic libraries a boost and a new direction, befitting the diverse and eclectic nature of contemporary North American universities.
Introduction
In the context of North American academic libraries, reading practices and diversity practices in libraries are usually seen as two different types of professional engagement. Reading work, better known as readers’ advisory, is related to reading promotion, in all its forms, to the community members of all ages; it includes work with individual readers, collective activities (e.g. book clubs), and the development of collections and resources to support non-academic reading. Conversely, when we talk about diversity work in libraries, we refer to resources, services, and programs to multicultural and marginalized populations, including but not limited to community members from visible minorities, immigrant communities, people with disabilities, LGBTQIA+, the elderly, and so on. Of course, there are some practical intersections of reading work and diversity work, for example book clubs for immigrants and collections of materials in world languages. However, we rarely see the inner diversity of reading practices in libraries beyond demographic characteristics of readers with whom we interact. Although we are well aware of the highly differentiated nature of readership—in any setting—we, somehow, do not see it as an expression of diversity, nor do we frame reading discourse in diversity terms. In this article, we try to marry the two, to advocate the notion of reading work in academic libraries as a diversity practice, and to examine this practice through the lens of the Diversity by Design (DbD) concept (Dali and Caidi, 2017). We use this concept to propose and explicate a differentiated approach to working with readers on campus, drawing attention to the broader and multiple meanings of diversity in the context of reading engagements. We also make specific recommendations on how to give reading practices in academic libraries a boost and a new direction, befitting the diverse and eclectic nature of contemporary North American universities.
The impetus for this article was given by our recent publication (Dali and McNiff, 2019), in which we carried out a detailed bibliographic and citation analysis of 59 publications about reading in academic libraries published between 2000 and 2017, and 1554 corresponding citations. Drawing on empirical findings, we noted a situation whereby the vast “interdisciplinary knowledge about reading practices and behaviors” accumulated by academic librarians does not automatically translate into an active application of acquired interdisciplinary knowledge in everyday practice (Dali and McNiff, 2019: 588). As a result, there has been little change in the type of reading programs on campus in the last 18 years. Making recommendations based on the data analysis, we proposed “a differentiated approach to reading programming”; in this approach, instead of “positioning reading programs as achieving multiple goals at once, [librarians] could distinguish between reading programs for civic engagement and smaller book clubs based on common leisure reading interests or genre reading, as well as hobby-driven book clubs”; similarly, “[i]nstead of positioning all non-academic reading under the collective umbrella of “leisure,” [librarians] could advocate for some reading engagements as a way to augment and enliven academic learning, while presenting other reading initiatives as stress reduction techniques, self-help, and a means of personal growth” (p. 588). Our data analysis also showed “relatively limited borrowing and adoption of knowledge and practices from public libraries,” and we suggested that “learning more extensively from public librarians’ experience in engaging readers could be beneficial” for academic librarians (p. 588). This article, therefore, develops the brief concluding recommendations given in the previous article into practical applications, framing the discussion in terms of diversity.
For the purposes of this article, we define diversity as an inner diversity of readerships on university campuses, which may or may not be related to demographic diversity characteristics (e.g. ethnicity, language, culture, age, etc.). We recognize that the diversity of reading interests and readerships can be determined by these characteristics; however, we also recognize that readerships may vary widely not only among but also within cultural, age-based, linguistic, and other groups of readers. For our purposes, inclusion will refer to the practice of accounting for diverse reading interests in reading programs, collections, and activities on campus.
Various articles and books in the domain of reading work in academic libraries use different terms interchangeably: extracurricular reading, leisure reading, pleasure reading, and recreational reading figure most frequently. We operate with the term non-academic reading to refer to the reading of fiction, narrative non-fiction, graphic novels and comic books, magazines and other popular media in any format, including but not limited to print, electronic, audio, Braille and other accessible formats, and so on. We recognize, however, that not every non-academic reading is leisure or recreation and that some of it is, in fact, integrated into the curriculum, be it library instructions, information literacy sessions, or the actual university courses. In this case, it is definitely “curricular” rather than “extra.” In this article, we use leisure reading, pleasure reading, and recreational reading interchangeably.
We try to avoid the use of “readers’ advisory” while describing reading work in academic libraries, although we retain this phrase when citing previously published work in order to remain true to the original. We realize that readers’ advisory is a “compact” term that “has been around for over a century, and enjoys a shared understanding among LIS professionals across the board”; yet, “it is critical that we approach this term with full awareness that, at this day and age, the word ‘advisory’ is way out of sync with contemporary library reading practices” (Dali and McNiff, 2019: 571). In the past, as McNicol (2016: 9) noted, readers’ advisory practices situated a librarian: [. . .] as an educator, ‘leading the reader in a particular direction that they felt would be beneficial to them’ (Train, 2003, p. 37), as they offered suggestions based on information provided by the reader about their reading tastes. Such approaches, in essence, can be seen as replicating what Freire (1970) described as the ‘banking model’ of education in which students are viewed as empty containers into which educators must deposit knowledge.
As such, it reflected the power dynamic in libraries—with a librarian as an expert and a reader as a service recipient—that no longer exists. In the age of social media, peer-to-peer reading exchanges, and multitudes of well-informed and savvy readers, the notion of “advisory” is neither useful nor particularly valid. Oxford Dictionary of English (2010) defines advisory as the capacity and power to “offer suggestions about the best course of action to someone” or to “inform (someone) about a fact or situation in a formal or official way” (Stevenson, 2010a). At the same time, other terms can be found, such as “consultation,” which implies having “discussions with (someone), typically before undertaking a course of action,” or, better yet, “discussion,” which implies conversing or talking with someone “about (a topic) in detail, taking into account different issues or ideas” (Stevenson, 2010b, 2010c). We advocate for reading discussions, consultations, and working in partnership with readers, but caution against advisory.
The article is written by the currently practicing academic librarian and the former academic librarian/current LIS faculty member, both long-term reading advocates, actively involved in reading promotion on and off campus. As a result, we choose to write in the first-person plural because we see ourselves as members of the academic library community. We realize that our perspective and insight are limited to the North American milieu, situation, and academic libraries, although we rely on some studies from other countries. However, we hope that our readers around the world will find some of our recommendations and conclusions useful, especially if they also work on campuses that are eclectic and diverse in more ways than one.
Framing the discussion: DbD and reading work in academic libraries
In their publication in The Library Quarterly, Keren Dali and Nadia Caidi (2017) proposed the DbD concept, “bringing to light the multiplicity of contexts that give diversity meaning and life in our complex field”; they argued that “diversity, broadly conceived, is foundational to LIS and that discounting or underappreciating its pivotal function may have a disintegrating effect on our practice, scholarship, and education” (p. 88). They looked at diversity beyond the demographic characteristics of LIS professionals and user communities with whom we interact and beyond the diversity of resources and information which we handle. They criticized the notion of diversity as an “add-on” and an option and the “lingering [. . .] perception of diversity as a bonus and a frill” (p. 89), proposing that diversity should be integral and structural [. . .] seamlessly built into our curriculum, work environments, decision making, professional choices, and interpersonal relationships in both the workplace and academia. [It] should be there from the start, not thrown in for reasons of trendiness and popularity at a moment of need; [it] should be part of the foundation, part of the core. In other words, [it] should be there by design, not by chance. (p. 89)
Naming multiple contexts whereby diversity manifests itself in our field, the authors pointed to values-based diversity, that is, the diversity of worldviews, lifestyles, tastes, life choices, intellectual orientations, and so on, in short, anything that comes from people’s unique lifeways and experiences (see also, Hudson-Ward, 2014). The diversity of readerships and reading interests would fit squarely with these concepts.
Dali and Caidi (2017) described the so-called diversity mindset that should guide the professional and pedagogical approach of anyone who practices or teaches in our field. Among other things, this mindset includes a “recognition that diversity is a reality of life, not a problem to solve or an issue to address,” that diversity is “integral to social structure, daily interactions, learning environments, professional settings, and human relationships,” and that we have to master the “ability to see the multiple contexts and expressions of diversity in our professional and academic settings” (p. 91).
Not always do libraries associate diversity work with reading work, with the exception of collections in world languages, multicultural collections, or specialized reading programs and book clubs for diverse communities, which are not very frequent or numerous even in public libraries. In this context, we hear about book clubs for immigrants and/or English-language learners. However, this would be an example of diversity as a bonus, not integrated into the fabric of library work. For instance, while most public library reading programs and services are planned for and geared toward readers who read in English, as a bonus, libraries may have a collection or consider a program in another language. While most book clubs in libraries are for English speakers, as a bonus, some libraries offer a separate reading group for non-native speakers. Even administratively, mainstream reading programs and fiction collections often fall under “reading and literacy,” while reading programs and collections in languages other than English are often categorized as “multicultural.” Yet, associations between diversity and reading are undeniable and need to be recognized, if we define diversity the way we suggest in this article—as the inherent inner diversity of reading interests and readerships. The diversity of reading tastes and preferences is one of the most remarkable types of diversity. This diversity determines the highly differentiated nature of readerships in general and on campus in particular. Although reading scholars discuss multiple reasons for reading and point to a wide variety of different motivations and incentives for reading (e.g. Begum, 2011; Berggren, 1998; Burke, 1999; Kinard, 1998; Knulst and Kraaykamp, 1998; Kraaykamp and Dijkstra, 1999; Littau, 2008; Rosenthal, 1995; Ross, 1999, 2000; Ross et al., 2018; Rothbauer, 2004; Sabine and Sabine, 1983; Saricks, 2005; Schutte and Malouff, 2006), they do not frame this discussion in terms of diversity and do not see the differentiation of readership as part of diversity discourse.
Building on the understanding of diversity, broadly conceived, as integral and inherent to the professional practice of working with readers in academic libraries, drawing on historical antecedents, and invoking interdisciplinary reading scholarship that speaks to the differentiated nature of readerships and reading behaviors, we analyze what works and what does not in terms of promoting and integrating non-academic reading on campus. We also offer some suggestions for advancing reading practices in academic libraries and for reframing our thinking about working with readers in academia as a diversity practice.
Relevant historical antecedents
Guided by this thinking, we would like to briefly introduce the relevant historical developments that frame and feed into the below argument. As a practice that in North America originated in public libraries in the last quarter of the 19th century, for almost a century, readers’ advisory had been focused on non-fiction and helping library users to find materials for reading with a purpose (e.g. reading for personal development or studying outside of formal educational settings) (Crowley, 2005). Similarly, for much of its history, librarians had contended with the proverbial “fiction problem” (Orr, 2015); the “fiction problem” refers to the ongoing library dilemma of whether to focus mostly on non-fiction and literary fiction or to provide access to and advice about genre fiction and other entertaining materials. 1 The situation changed in the early 1980s, when the new philosophy and specialized training were introduced by a group of reading advocates who created the Adult Reading Roundtable; the new approach firmly put the reader in the driver’s seat, so to speak, and promoted the idea that the quality of a book (or another reading material) is determined by readers, not literary critics, and that it is pleasure, enjoyment, and the quality of the reading experience itself that matter to readers and should matter to librarians who help them choose the next good read. Readers’ advisory was on the rise in the two following decades, prompting many researchers and practitioners to hail it as a renaissance (e.g. Crowley, 2005). However, the proliferation of online readers’ advisory tools, social media sites dedicated to reading, online reading communities, plentiful free-of-charge advice from commercial book retailers and publishers, and uninhibited, instantaneous peer recommendations have rendered this library practice less useful and relevant than it used to be in the 20th century. Public libraries have been only partially successful in regaining and maintaining their leadership in leisure reading promotion, and more than one critic noted the stagnation in readers’ advisory services (e.g. Beard and Thi-Beard, 2008; Crowley, 2015; Dali, 2015a; Dilevko and Magowan, 2007).
The practice of readers’ advisory has evolved differently in academic libraries than in public libraries, although the fiction problem was not irrelevant to academic libraries either. This fact notwithstanding, in the early 20th century, many academic libraries offered relaxing recreational reading, hosted browsing rooms (Dewan, 2010; Lacy, 2014; Zauha, 1993), and hired designated readers’ advisory librarians (Lacy, 2014; Smith and Young, 2008). Since their primary audiences of students and scholars were already exposed to serious, scholarly reading, academic librarians felt freer catering to the recreational desires of their community members (Lacy, 2014). That is not to say that academic librarians focused on genre fiction and other entertaining materials; the quality of books as determined by experts and critics was still an important consideration in reading recommendations. However, the small size and relative homogeneity of most student bodies at the time enabled academic libraries to make recommending so called “great books” confidently (Smith and Young, 2008: 521). With the rise of information science, the corporate university, and the metrics-oriented audit culture, academic libraries have refocused their energies elsewhere, losing interest in reader services for most of the remaining 20th century (Dewan, 2010; Gladwin and Goulding, 2012; Lacy, 2014; Rathe and Blankenship, 2006; Smith and Young, 2008). When the interest in working with readers on campus resurfaced in the early 21st century, the academic environment did not make it easy for academic librarians to promote non-academic reading for the sake of pleasure. A much surer and more feasible way to make reading a part of campus life was to tie it into educational and professional goals of higher education in more explicit ways. Multiple studies and reports decried a purported drop in non-academic reading and claimed inseparable connections between reading and higher empathy levels, better social skills, and, most pertinently, academic achievement and excellence. They provided the needed evidence base for the greater inclusion of non-academic reading on campus (Gallik, 1999; Krashen, 2004; National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), 2004, 2007, 2009). However, they have also determined the nature of this inclusion, one whereby non-academic reading was justified insofar as it was at the service of educational and professional goals.
Despite the heartening proliferation of promotional reading and reading programs in academic libraries, many studies reported only limited success and sustainability thereof (e.g. Bosman et al., 2008; Chesnut, 2011; Fajardo, 2010; Gauder et al., 2007; Gilbert and Fister, 2010; Goldberg, 2012; MacKay, 2015; Mahaffy, 2009). We view the lack of a differentiated approach to reading promotion and the conflation of educational and recreational goals in reading work as one of the reasons for the limited success and short lifespan of reading initiatives.
Intellectual and emotional learning and personal growth can happen as a result of recreational pleasure reading but it should not be expected. We need to differentiate between non-academic reading with a purpose and free-choice voluntary reading for leisure, pleasure, or recreation. Most importantly, the goal of learning and the idea of usefulness and utility (“it’s good for you”) should not be used to justify the promotion of leisure reading. Conversely, it is futile and counter-productive to try and promote engagement with serious works of imaginative literature or narrative non-fiction as recreational reading per se. We see the conflation and confusion of goals for reading promotion as one source of concern with current reading practices in academic libraries.
A differentiated approach to reading
The disadvantage of this kind of “mix” for reading promotion has been realized and addressed by public librarians since the early 1980s, as described earlier. Rather than focusing on the intellectual benefits of reading that factor so heavily into the academic library literature, public librarians focus instead on reader enjoyment and on seeing “the reader to be an essential and active partner” (Begum, 2011: 740). Although the history of reading in public libraries is rife with anxiety about stocking and circulating genre fiction, the contemporary scenario is one that acknowledges the diversity of reader tastes and interests, and one that is grounded in reader enjoyment as a matter of course. A commitment to recreational reading on the part of readers cannot be developed without practice, and readers are less motivated to practice if the read is not enjoyable.
Granted, the mandate of and atmosphere in public libraries may make it easier for librarians to do the separation between educational/developmental reading and leisure/pleasure reading. Academic libraries, on the other hand, operate as part of higher education institutions, and academic librarians may feel the expressed, latent, or even self-imposed pressure to primarily support the educational and curricular mission of their respective parent universities and colleges. This could explain the ongoing attempt to tie non-academic reading into tangible educational benefits and goals and to justify the collection of non-academic reading materials through their potential usefulness for student development and education.
However, here is an interesting trend that may play into the hands of librarians trying to promote non-academic reading on campus, which academic librarians could make a cornerstone of their argument in defense of reading on campus. Institutions of higher education have started paying more attention to students’ well-being, not just education and professional development. The idea of educating the “whole person,” which is not unfamiliar to academic libraries either (Hallyburton et al., 2011), is quite tangible in the climate of contemporary academia and, more often than not, reflected in institutional mission statements or other established and written policies. Academic librarians could be greatly helped by the careful reading of these policies in their efforts to advocate for non-academic reading on campus. These policies could be instrumental in librarians’ efforts to position non-academic reading and extracurricular activities as integral support mechanisms for the core institutional mission of nurturing the whole person. The policy statements related to education and professional development are easy to spot; the statements related to the whole person and students’ well-being should be sought more deliberately, perhaps. Yet, we are confident they are available and explicated in most higher education institutions in North America and can be relied on by librarians.
This brings us to the following point: academic librarians may consider a more nuanced approach to reading promotion, differentiating among several types of non-academic reading. We propose to distinguish at least three main types of non-academic reading on campus:
non-academic reading as part of the academic or library curricula;
non-academic reading as a means of relaxation, stress management, and recreation; and
non-academic reading as a means of community building on campus.
Non-academic reading as part of the university or library curriculum
The first type is the reading of fiction, imaginative literature, and narrative non-fiction integrated into library instruction, course syllabi, and other parts of the university curriculum or library activities. It is the kind of engagement whereby we appeal to the potential of fiction and literature to augment the learning process, to enrich the curriculum, and to contribute to the professional and personal development of students in a way that no scholarly work can. For example, librarians at Gustavus Adolphus College launched a popular partial-credit course called “Books and Culture” that doubled as a research project to study undergraduate students’ attitudes toward reading. Students in the course were given time to explore their own reading tastes and experience the joy of “encountering information through self-directed curiosity and enjoyment” (Fister, 2014: 73). This outcome is both ideal and often missing from typical information literacy instruction. A second library-led book-focused course, also for partial credit, provided students with scheduled time to read and discuss a variety of texts. One of the goals of the course was to help students reflect on their reading practices, analyze their reading preferences, and develop their own strategies for finding reading material that interested them (including using free readers’ advisory tools and social media) (Fister, 2014; Gilbert and Fister, 2011). David J Brier and Vickery K Lebbin have published a monograph in 2016 drawing together 18 short stories whose themes intersected in some way with concepts from the ACRL Framework for Information Literacy Instruction in Higher Education. Each story was followed by prompt questions to explore information literacy concepts more deeply, guided by the idea that instruction librarians would engage their students in reading and discussing the story in lieu of a traditional information literacy session (Brier and Lebbin, 2016).
As evidenced from decades-long research, the integration of non-academic reading has the potential to enrich curricula, create a rich, powerful, and multi-dimensional learning experience, and make the process of education livelier and more dynamic and fun. It has the potential to ignite students’ creativity and imagination and steer them in the direction of innovation and originality. It helps with their psychological maturation as future professionals and socially responsible members of society. These documented merits notwithstanding, we have to admit that it will still be reading with a purpose, and even if students will have some choice of what to read, they will have no choice of when to read it or whether or not to read it at all; it will still be part of their mandatory coursework.
Promoting this type of reading and proving its potential benefit and merit, librarians will be able to rely on a vast body of literature, including large scale quantitative studies and research reports (e.g. NEA reports) that empirically confirm the usefulness of non-academic reading in higher education. Much of this literature is already part and parcel of the research base found in the publications about reading in academic libraries investigated in Dali and McNiff (2019). However, this type of reading should not be promoted as leisurely and pleasurable; it may or may not be the case.
Non-academic reading as a means of relaxation, stress management, and recreation
The second type of reading is free-choice, voluntary pleasure reading that will be done for escapism, relaxation, entertainment, and other similar reasons. The value of escapist reading has been highlighted in the public library literature as a self-preservation tactic, a means of combatting stress and other health issues, a vehicle for creativity, and even as a mechanism for increasing a reader’s connection to the real world. Numerous sources, from within and outside of LIS, from books to professional articles that has addressed the value of leisure reading, highlights these points. Readers’ advisory literature that emerges from the public library sphere is, in general, more concerned with readers’ emotional reading life, the leisure/escapist qualities of reading, and their potential benefit for the individual. It is for the promotion of this type of reading that librarians create comfortable spaces, displays, and leisure reading collections, conduct polls and surveys about reading preferences and reading practices, and introduce services involving conversations about reading and reading suggestions. Of course, as a by-product, this type of reading may also contribute to professional and academic development, resembling the purposeful non-academic reading integrated in the curriculum. However, it may not happen; it cannot and should not be expected; and it is perfectly alright if it does not. By extension, the promotion of this type of reading should not be done by association with the usefulness and utility of reading. It is for the promotion of leisure reading without any particular educational or developmental purpose that librarians have to become well-acquainted with university policies, especially those that commit to the general well-being and physical and mental health of students, and to caring about the whole person. Building on these policies, and drawing on the vast interdisciplinary knowledge about non-educational merits and benefits of reading, which academic librarians possess without a doubt (Dali and McNiff, 2019), they can build a convincing argument in support of leisure reading collections, programs, and services on campus.
Non-academic reading as a means of community building on campus
Difficulty with “One Book” programs on diverse campuses
Finally, non-academic reading can be used as an instrument of community building. Community building can mean several things in this context. It can mean bringing together likeminded individuals around specific interests, passions, and intellectual pursuits; these can include specific reading and cinematic genres or hobbies and other leisure activities. It can mean helping people, scattered around the campus, to forge personal friendships and interpersonal connections in smaller groups. It can mean initiating and sustaining campus-wide conversations around current or historical concerns—cultural, political, policy-related, social, and so on. Examples of those can be election results, disability, bullying, tuition fees, physical spaces around the campus, environmental issues, major political events in the country, effects of technology and artificial intelligence on daily life and education, and a wide array of other topics. Reading programs, reading groups, book clubs, author events, and other similar undertakings can be used as venues for this type of engagement.
However, let us face it: not every non-academic reading is leisure. Some of it is hard work, requiring significant intellectual, emotional, and time investment, dedication, and commitment. Just because reading is not scholarly or research-based does not mean that it is effortless. Even within a relatively limited domain of book clubs and reading groups, a differentiated approach is absolutely crucial. As we mentioned, quite a few publications highlighted the limited reach, success, and sustainability of so-called One Book—One Campus events, or other similar reading groups that try to involve large numbers of campus community members in the reading and discussion of a single chosen title. Despite the choice of award-winning books, there is often poor attendance at events or meetings and/or after the initial splash of enthusiasm, programs cannot be sustained. Students seem to be more interested in author events, irrespective of their interest in reading and discussing books by these authors (e.g. Goldberg, 2012; MacKay, 2015). While we may look for flaws in program designs, we feel that One Book ventures are, actually, not meant to work on diverse campuses. If they work, they work on a small scale, attracting five to 15 regulars and followers. If the whole campus is enthused about discussing the same book, it may not be a sign of a large unified community. It may be a sign of a fairly homogenous community, in terms of cultural and personal backgrounds, beliefs, and reading tastes, and our campuses are rarely homogenous.
We, therefore, propose that instead of focusing on logistics and design, librarians could pay attention to possible flaws in fundamental philosophical assumptions underlying these programs. Understanding the nature of communal, collective reading experiences and engagements would help academic librarians and event organizers to take a more informed route and have more successful and sustainable events. This will involve the realization that books, unlike magazines and especially newspapers, are not the most socializing and commonly shared type of reading. As the cultural historian Stephen Lovell contends: [. . .] there are many reasons why a reader might take an interest in a particular book; the important point is that each reader’s motives for selecting a book are in large measure specific to that reader. As a consequence, books tend to appeal to readers as individuals and transmit long-lasting cultural values. Journals, on the other hand, implicitly address themselves to a particular group of readers who (especially if they are subscribers) have little control over the form and content of a particular issue, but who have identified the general profile of a publication as being congenial or interesting to them. Journals are therefore inherently more “socializing” than books, but the values they transmit are, on the whole, more temporary. If we compare journals with newspapers, we find that the latter are even more “socializing” than the former, the readership of a newspaper being even broader and less differentiated. In the modern world it typically numbers hundreds of thousands. (Lovell, 2000: 98‒99)
What cultural historians and sociologists of reading see as a differentiated nature of book readerships can be viewed, through a different lens, simply as a great inner diversity of the readership on campus. No matter intentions, One Book programs are inherently homogenizing, and this invariably raises a question whether or not they are suitable for diverse environments.
Launched in 1998 in Seattle by Nancy Pearl of the Seattle Public Library, the One Book—One Community programs have become increasingly popular across North America. Despite the fact that these programs still exist, they are not unequivocally and consistently successful; they are not necessarily met with enthusiasm and, in some geographic locations, they have been heavily criticized. Years back, The New York Times ran an article titled “Want a fight? Pick one book for all New Yorkers” (Kirkpatrick, 2002). It drew attention to the fact that in a multi-million city, with such a high level of diversity and eclecticism, choosing one book to bring the city together in a unified book discussion club may be not only impossible but also undesirable. Some “New York intellectuals complained” about the process (Kirkpatrick, 2002: para. 12).
“I don’t like these mass reading bees,’” said Harold Bloom, unofficial custodian of the literary canon, professor at Yale and part-time New Yorker. He said reading was too private an experience for such municipal orchestration. “It is rather like the idea that we are all going to pop out and eat Chicken McNuggets or something else horrid at once,” he said. (Kirkpatrick, 2002: para. 13)
The impossibility of choosing a single title is also tied into the very different motivational factors for title selection on the part of event organizers, ranging from attempts to liven up the stalled book discussions in public libraries to making books accessible to high school students, from stimulating book sales to other commercial purposes. Even those who would like to see these programs as forums for voicing social concerns are far from unanimous and often disagree on priorities. For example, while some may think that it is important to focus on the issues of immigration in a largely immigrant nation, others may argue that “the resonance of an immigrant’s experience [is] ‘overrated’” and that it is much more crucial “to address interracial and cross-ethnic relations than immigration” (Kirkpatrick, 2002: para. 26).
In another multicultural hub, in the city of Toronto in Ontario, Canada, readers can relate to the above sentiments and challenges. As one Torontonian eloquently put it, “Toronto is too multicultural to be mono-literary,” adding that: For a city that’s supposed to pride itself on diversity and plurality of voices, picking one book is kind of dumb [. . .] [T]here’s so much stuff out there, when you narrow it down to one, you’re just asking for trouble. (Controneo, 2001: NE03)
Just like New Yorkers, Torontonians have a plethora of rationales for suggesting a title as an ultimate “for all” read: some would like to see the chosen title reflect their national and cultural heritage; some consider that going local—Canadian, Ontarian, Torontonian—is the best way to appeal to as wide an audience in the same municipality as possible; others, point to the cosmopolitan nature of the city and the increasingly globalized environment, proposing that we should “pick some books outside the city, maybe outside the country and make it a broader culture exchange” (Controneo, 2001: NE03); and some are dismayed not to find Canadian classics (e.g. Carol Shields, Alice Munro, Mavis Gallant, and Mordecai Richler) as contenders or finalists (Stoffman, 2002: D07). Whatever the case may be, both scholarly discourse and life experiences across geographic borders show that One Book—One Community enterprises have a difficult time working in diverse settings.
In many cases and in many ways, our colleges and universities are microcosms of multicultural cities; they may be even more diverse than the respective geographic communities in which they are located. As a result, the challenges and tribulations that play out in cities and other municipalities will surely manifest themselves on campus, as well. Equipped with this knowledge and understanding, academic librarians could proceed with the differentiated approach to community building that views reading programs on campus as a main instrument of engagement.
Translating this knowledge into practical applications, academic librarians have to be clear about the goals of each collective reading program that they tried to establish on campus. Most importantly, we propose that librarians disengage from the notion of “one book.” It is absolutely imperative that diverse and inclusive campuses had multiple books and multiple discussion groups contributing to community building. The idea of a healthy, interactive campus, with open communication channels for fruitful, multisided dialog, should not be tied into the practice of reading and discussing a single title, no matter how distinguished and meritorious the title happens to be. Diversity, broadly conceived, is incredibly important for the health of academic communities, and if students come to book programs en masse—“all as one”—then a legitimate question would be: how diverse is this campus?
In fact, a much more exciting approach would be “One Campus—Many Books”! It would be both enticing and inclusive considering the vibrant diversity of most university campuses. If logistical, financial, and staff-shortage considerations prevent librarians from developing and supporting several reading programs on campus, they need to decide on the type (or types) of reading-mediated engagements that seem to serve the academic community best or seem to address the most immediate concerns and to promote it accordingly. However, the ideal and the goal should still be a diversity of programs.
One Campus—Many Books: The diversity of reading programs on campus
The implementation of diverse reading programs on campus is also tied into the differentiated approach to readers and reading experiences. The below examples provide some guidance and ideas for developing several types of reading engagements in academia.
1. Leisure reading book clubs.
Leisure- and hobby-oriented groups and clubs are nothing new on campus. There are chess clubs, music bands, local history clubs, language clubs (focusing on promoting world languages and cultures, for example), and arts and crafts groups (e.g. crochet and knitting clubs), and so on. It is also not uncommon to see reading groups or book clubs dedicated to specific genres, such as mystery, historical fiction, science fiction, or anime, or the more specific sub-genres within this larger classification (e.g. steam punk, time travel, robots, etc.). These clubs would serve the same purposes as those addressed by book clubs off campus, be they private, workplace-based, or associated with public libraries: sharing the joy of reading, emotional experiences, and intellectual interpretations with other likeminded readers; getting alternative perspectives on the read material; validating personal reading experiences; learning informally from each other; forging personal friendships and developing informal peer support networks that stretch beyond the bounds of a book club. When it is done within a fairly contained campus, taken in totality, multiple reading groups and book clubs build a network of social units and foster a sense of community whereby members connect over similar experiences and interests and value and respect each other’s individuality and uniqueness.
Some of these book clubs may be initiated by students and organized serendipitously and spontaneously; however, in this case, the library is not involved, and a great opportunity to connect to students on an informal level and to expand the reach of these book clubs through deliberate and strategic action is, unfortunately, lost. Moreover, not all students have the resources and organizational capacity to establish and sustain a book club; some of these ventures fall apart over logistical difficulties and the lack of management or organizational skills, not necessarily the lack of motivation and interest. Librarians, in this case, could become a driving, organizing force.
2. Book discussion groups dedicated to a particular political, cultural, social justice, education-related or another issue that can bring likeminded people together in the context of social engagement and enrich educational opportunities and experiential learning by contributing to the current curriculum.
This is what most book discussion groups are these days, judging by accounts from most articles and book chapters on the topic of reading in academic libraries. Organizers of these discussions select titles for insightfully presented and deeply analyzed social and psychological issues and for the civic-minded message they impart.
Similarly to genre-based book clubs, these discussion groups can be student-initiated. An excellent example thereof is two reading groups (which eventually merged into one) created by a small group of LIS master’s students at the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa (Brown, 2019) and guided by the feminist and diversity ethics. However, they can also be initiated and encouraged by academic librarians.
In each case, librarians have to be pragmatic, to acknowledge that there is a limit to the size of every group, and to develop realistic target numbers in line with a specific type of engagement. Another thing to seriously consider is the power balance and the amount of control and autonomy given to students and other participants in deciding the content and direction of these engagements. If the idea is to engage students, it is primarily students who should be in the driver’s seat choosing books, not librarians or faculty members.
Staff and faculty require the skill of advising without imposing; they should be mindful not to exert pressure and control over the process; they should also realize that their mere involvement and presence can be intimidating to students and can restrict their creativity, freedom of selection, and decision making power. Librarians have to remember that no matter the quality and stature of the chosen book, the number of participants will still be limited because one size never fits all. Small numbers should be expected and not considered a sign of inefficiency or failure; this fact should be expressly and proactively addressed in strategic plans and funding applications; this is also something that needs to become part of the advocacy message for these reading programs on campus. It is not reasonable to expect campus-wide participation, but a few baseline numbers, stemming from the extant research and previous personal experiences, could provide a useful benchmark for success or a lack thereof.
It is also worth remembering that author events and book signings may draw larger crowds irrespective of whether or not attendees are actually interested in reading the book in question and, especially, irrespective of whether or not they are interested in discussing this book with others. All these activities—meeting with authors/celebrities, reading a book, discussing a book—are separate and quite autonomous elements of reading behavior, and the existence of one does not automatically presuppose the other. Also, very importantly, no same book should be chosen twice or two years in a row (e.g. MacKay, 2015). Given the abundance and diversity of great books with edgy writing and strong social and political messages that are published every year, this approach will create an impression of either an uninformed and myopic or a didactic and prescriptive choice on the part of organizers, which will likely be quite unwelcome. Ultimately, this approach will fail to engage students on the level that will bring about the true community spirit and collaboration on campus.
Attention to formats as a condition for inclusion
We have briefly mentioned earlier that the idea of inclusive reading on campus also encompasses a variety of formats (e.g. reading print vs. reading ebooks vs. listening to audiobooks). It also involves the notion of accessibility since specific formats are essential to readers as a condition for participation, education, and enjoyment. For example, a Random House analysist determined that in the US: Most eBook consumers are women, are younger than forty-five, have college degrees or have had some college education [. . .]. Preferred genres include mystery/suspense/detective fiction, general fiction, and romance. [. . .] EBook consumers are 2.5 times more likely to own a tablet than non- eBook consumers. They also tend to be more accessible than non-eBook consumers across online touch points, and more sensitive to word-of-mouth recommendations. (Park, 2013, para. 2‒3)
The largest group of ebook readers in the population of US adults, according to the Pew Research Group in 2018, are aged 18 to 29 (34%) (Statista, 2019). In 2019, 28% of respondents to another Pew Research Group survey indicated that they read books in both print and electronic formats and 7% indicated that they read books in digital format (Perrin, 2019). The same study concluded that one in five Americans listen to audiobooks and that college students are “especially likely to read books in a variety of formats” (Perrin, 2019: para. 7). Given the correlation between ebook reading on the one hand and college education, the consumption of specific genres, and the younger age on the other hand, and also accounting for the technology-saturated environment of contemporary North American campuses, it is clear that reading promotion and programming in academia should include the consideration of multiple formats. Similarly, given the commitment of academic institutions to accessibility and equity in access and on-campus participation, the multiplicity of formats should be considered not only as a reflection of diverse reading behaviors but also as a practice of including people with diverse body abilities (e.g. National Network for Equitable Library Services (NNELS), 2019; Library of Congress, n.d).
Taking stock: DbD and a differentiated approach as key to the success and sustainability of reading work in academic libraries
Taking a critical look at the current reading practices and reading work in academic libraries, we have argued that at the very heart of rethinking our work with readers on campus is the conception of this work as a diversity practice. We used the principles outlined in the DbD concept and were guided by the diversity mindset in order to show that considerations of diversity should underlie the integration of non-academic reading promotion on campus, be it in the form of reading events, book clubs and reading groups, leisure reading collections, or non-academic reading added as part of university courses and library classes. The DbD lens has ultimately guided us toward a differentiated approach to reading promotion on campus, the reconsideration of terminology used to describe librarians’ work with readers, the need to look more carefully at and learn more in-depth from the practice of readers’ advisory in public libraries, and to rely more substantially on the interdisciplinary reading research.
We could start reconceptualizing our approach to reading by paying more careful attention to and revising our terminology. The changed terminology will help us to frame the discussion of reading practices in libraries as a diversity practice and to see the multiple faces and meanings of diversity at play in reading engagements on campus. This recognition is essential in order to achieve successful reading promotion, the impactful and seamless integration of non-academic reading into the university-wide and library-specific curricula, and the effective use of reading as a community-building instrument.
Aside from relying on the principles of DbD, a differentiated approach to reading should draw on interdisciplinary research on reading as a social phenomenon and an individual practice. Specifically, academic librarians need to take notice of the fact:
that the reading of non-academic materials may be for leisure and recreation and may be with a purpose; despite the fact that both build on the same type of reading materials, they are entirely different in their intended outcomes, incentives, intrinsic motivations, and experience of pleasure; this factor should be taken into consideration in the design and promotion of respective programs and activities;
that the quality of book and its potential to initiate and sustain a lively discussion has little to do with critical acclaim and the quality determined by experts and critics; these depend on the composition of readers participating in a program or an activity, their personal reading histories and tastes, and their relationships to the book in question;
that books are the least socializing type of reading (as opposed to magazines/journals and newspapers) and that the book readership, overall, has a highly differentiated nature; as a result;
that one’s desire to read a book, one’s desire to discuss a book in a public forum, and one’s desire to meet with a celebrity author who wrote this book are different types of reading behaviors which may or may not go together; and
that in order to effectively integrate the above practices, academic librarians could learn from the rich literature on readers’ advisory in public libraries, especially those sources that focus on the philosophical underpinnings of the current approach to working with readers (Dali, 2013, 2015b; Ross, 2000; Saricks, 2015).
The suggested differentiated approach is particularly important with regard to reading programs on campus, and even if they are developed around non-academic reading, not all of them can and should be called book clubs and/or promoted by association with leisure or pleasure reading. At the most basic level, we can identify two different types of reading programs and groups on campus.
First, there could be leisure reading book clubs, akin to book clubs in public libraries, bookstores, and community centers, which bring together students (and possibly faculty and staff) interested in specific genres and types of reading. With academic librarians serving as facilitators or even instigators and active supporters of these initiatives, interest-based informal book clubs could become functional elements of community building campus-wide. Second, there could be thematic book discussion groups developed around political, cultural, social justice, and other issues and bringing together individuals who believe in the power of collective reading and collaborative ideas sharing. These discussion groups can indeed be instruments of interactive learning, political activism, and civic participation on campus, as great works of literature indeed have potential to ignite creative thinking, encourage personal maturation, and support social change on campus, preparing students for socially responsible and community minded practice upon graduation.
Particularly serious consideration should be given to the wide-spread One Book—One Campus programs, or their spin-offs. On diverse university campuses with highly differentiated (and often large) book readerships, One Book programs may appear homogenizing and, ultimately, unsuccessful. The idea of One Campus—Many Books seems much more appealing, and although we are acutely aware of the possible financial, human resources-related, and administrative constraints of having multiple reading programs run by the same library, the ideal and the goal should still be a variety and diversity of programs. Although at the first glance One Book programs may seem more logistically feasible, based on our review of library experiences with these programs, this is not necessarily the case (e.g. Bosman et al., 2008; Chesnut, 2011; Fajardo, 2010; Gauder et al., 2007; Gilbert and Fister, 2010; Goldberg, 2012; MacKay, 2015; Mahaffy, 2009); in addition, they do not sufficiently incorporate the idea of diversified reading interests.
On a more concrete and applied level, an implementation of a differentiated approach means taking note and adhering to several principles.
Organizing book- and reading-related groups, librarians have to expect limited or low numbers of participants; this is not a sign of failure or inefficiency in organization but a legitimate consequence of the highly differentiated nature of book readerships; this argument should be included in funding applications and evaluation reports;
For the same reason, it should not be expected that the same title will equally appeal to the readers of different ages, literacy levels, education, and life experiences; assuming so would mean disregarding the notion of diversity in general and values-based diversity in particular;
Participants of the programs should be given control over and autonomy in deciding the content, goals, and direction of these engagements;
No same book should be chosen twice in the same program cycle or two years in a row;
Programs need to be developed in advance to allow for sufficient time to obtain accessible copies of the title in question; librarians should be willing and equipped to build partnerships with organizations and/or vendors that make books accessible for individuals with disabilities; only through multiple formats and modes of access can the ideal of true inclusion in reading practices be realized;
The goals of each program should be clear and transparent and should not conflate educational and recreational goals; of course, a program created with a purpose may be perceived as pleasurable by some readers and serve as leisure reading; alternatively, a leisure reading program can unobtrusively accomplish educational goals; however, it should not be expected.
Conclusion
The capacity of literature to change minds, hearts, and social conditions is a powerful instrument for enriching curriculum and engaging university community members outside of the classroom. However, even when we talk about non-academic reading, we have to admit that this type of reading may not necessarily be pleasure or leisure reading. If we integrate fiction into the university curriculum or library classes, we have to be clear that this will still be assigned and prescribed reading, a pedagogical technique that may work for some students in class but not for others. This type of non-academic reading may not be truly leisurely, free-choice or voluntary. Consequently, promoting this reading as recreational would not ring true, and this message may not assimilate well or be well received by students, other university community members, and stakeholders who have the funding, decision-making, and assessment power. Attempts to validate pleasure through utility may turn futile and may not bring desirable results, and this is part of the reason for the short life of many reading initiatives in academic libraries and for the lack of success and sustainability of reading programs or concomitant collecting efforts.
Working as part of academic institutions, academic librarians may feel obligated to justify every library undertaking by tying it into the educational and curricular goals. However, educating the whole person these days has become a mainstay of many university policies as well, as higher education institutions invest a great deal in students’ mental health, time and stress management, social lives, adaptation and adjustment in academia, and healthy relationship building. Encouraged and emboldened by these policies, librarians could create an entirely new and much more convincing line of argument for validating the space of non-academic reading in academic libraries and a much stronger bid for funding and other institutional support. If making students happy and keeping them healthy is part of an academic institution mission, it should be part of an academic library mission too, and the lifestyle and wellness merits of reading could be explored and used effectively to achieve this mission.
Developing an understanding of differentiated goals of reading with a purpose (educationally motivated reading) and leisure/recreational reading, academic librarians could be helped by the rich literature and vast experience collected by public librarians. Public libraries have legitimized recreational, leisure reading with the sole purpose of relaxation, escape, and entertainment, as a type of reading that promotes general and mental well-being and brings happiness to readers, and academic libraries should follow suit. For decades, pretty much since the early 1980s, public librarians have steered clear of expecting their readers to genuinely enjoy the titles that are “good for them,” irrespective of the literary and analytical quality of these titles, their critical acclaim and socio-cultural or political significance. Fun should not be incentivized or motivated; enjoyment and pleasure cannot be forced.
Only when considerations of diversity are put at the heart of reading work and reading promotion on campus can the conflation of goals be avoided and can the variety of readers’ life experiences and aesthetical tastes be respected and accounted for. That is to say, irrespective of whether we restructure reference services, develop on-campus technologies, tend for inclusive physical spaces, create information literacy curricula, establish advocacy campaigns, or unfold a variety of reading programs, keeping the principles of DbD as a guide and approaching these activities with the diversity mindset would create for a more inclusive and climate on campus, allowing reading to realize its full potential as a community building instrument.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
