A post on a local list about a library filter blocking the Covenant of the Goddess website got me making a lengthy post about the issues of freedom of information access, libraries, and filters: I thought I should duplicate my comments over here.
My background:
First, a quick note on my background. As I mention elsewhere, I’m a relatively recent Master’s in Library and Information Science graduate (I finished around this time last summer!) with a strong interest in online interaction, freedom of information access, and in particular, how libraries can better support minority communities (and in particular, minority religious communities) despite limited resources.
I don’t link my common usename (Jenett) online with legally identifying details, but if anyone’s actually in need of verifiable details for some reason, I’m glad to provide them privately. (’some reason’ is basically anything beyond curiousity: if you’d like to re-use some of my comments here for a discussion elsewhere, for example. Or if someone reading this would like me to come talk to other librarians about this issue, or something like that.)
Among other things, my work in these areas has included
- Classes in Public Library History and Theory (with a particular focus on how the Library Bill of Rights affects information access issues) and on Information Policy (including how we design information policy to protect access to information and deal with censorship requests)
- Projects in grad school about providing library resources of interest to Pagans, and a project I’d like to get back to on how Pagans actually use library systems, and how libraries could do better with this. (I have a lot of theories to test, but am stuck at the ‘figuring out how to do data collection’ stage.)
- Presentations to three different classes at other schools (and two as part of school projects) about providing fair and equivalent information access to minority religious members, and how to find resources that represent the community, not from outside the community. In all three cases, I got a lot of “This is fascinating and important!” feedback - everyone in those discussions was very supportive of the need to provide service to everyone, not just majority religions. I love my profession, sometimes.
My current workplace (an independent non-religious school) has a firm policy about filtering: we don’t. Period. (We do log where both students and staff go on the web, but these logs are only checked if there’s an actual problem. Quite honestly, who has the time to read through every teenager’s Facebook and MySpace URL? Also, I think schools are a somewhat different issue than public libraries: we also occasionally use these logins to block access for students who abuse online access or use it for harassment/etc.)
What are filters, and why are they there?
Many public libraries and schools have filtering software installed on their systems. Why, since the American Library Association thinks they’re firmly against the Library Bill of Rights?
Simply, Congress passed the Telecommunications Act of 1996. This act was intended to give libraries and schools some financial help and relief in bringing technology (computers and internet access) into these spaces.
Nice idea, but one of the requirements of the related Children’s Internet Protection Act (passed in early 2000) was that all systems that took advantage of the Internet Access or Internal Connections e-rate funds (or some specific grant money) had to make use of filters.
Many libraries and schools have turned down these two areas of funding, in order to keep control over their own systems. Some places, though, are working on severely limited budgets, struggling to keep afloat, and simply can’t afford to turn down (fairly significant) funding options that will bring a lot of good to people.
12 years later, we are, however, still stuck with some issues. There’s currently a decent Wikipedia article on content-control software (their term of choice) that highlights some of the other issues and concerns and history. (As always with Wikipedia, apply grain of salt and keep reading beyond the site.)
What’s the problem with filters?
1) They don’t work.
Really. They don’t. Every filter out there misses some stuff it really should catch, and catches stuff that is totally legimate. There is no way to do this kind of filtering manually (especially now, with the number of blogs, free hosting sites, and other resources out there.) All of the filters use various methods - keyword matching, searches of text or images on the page, etc.
Plus - and this is the one I note at work when talking to parents - an intelligent teenager can find ways around at least 90% of the pure technology solutions. Sometimes that’s as simple as using the computer at a friend’s house.
When I was in college, a then-teenager named Bennett Hasleton started an organization called Peacefire specifically to focus on freedom of access issues for the Internet among teens. While I’m not sure how active the organization is currently, they did do a tremendous amount to get the basic issues recognised (including testifying as an expert in Congressional hearings), and their site highlights some of the basic issues with filters.
I particularly like this quote from the CIPA FAQ I already linked to: “It is important to note that the law states that filters must protect against visual depictions outlawed by the legislation. The filter does not have to prevent access to all such depictions. (No filter is 100% effective in preventing all such access.) In developing the CIPA regulations, the FCC declined to further define the filter requirements or to adopt any type of definition or certification on how effective a filter must be, beyond the very general protect language of the law. Thus, there is no such thing as an FCC certified CIPA compliant filter.” (a little less than 2/3rds of the way down the page)
2) On many - probably most - filters, you don’t get to see the specific sites filtered.
In some cases, you can choose categories. Pagan sites, for example, often fall into either the Occult/Esoteric category, or sometimes into others. On these filters, a library or school could decide to enable the entire category.
But on some filters, there’s no category control, no individual administrator override, or a process that only removes specific challenged URLs from the filter. The problem with the last one, of course, is that it doesn’t do anything about similar sites blocked by the same filter.
3) Whose values are we talking about?
One other problem is that a number of the filtering companies - not all, but enough - come from specific backgrounds that often feel it’s appropriate to limit some kinds of information (which has included sites about non-Christian religions, sexual health material, political groups they don’t agree with, etc.)
These choices are not required by the clauses in CIPA (which is pretty much only concerned with minors seeing obscene content within some definitions) but if you don’t know what’s in the filter, how can you tell what’s getting blocked?
What to do?
1) Individual disabling:
In most cases - as is true for the particular library that got me talking about this - the library policy will mention that the filter can be disabled on request for any adult. (Sometimes computers in the children’s or teen’s area are filtered all the time.)
I’ve had this done in the past - LiveJournal caught the filter at the St. Paul public library a few years ago when I wanted to print some stored information off my journal there: I couldn’t log into the site until I got someone to disable the filter.
This works great for an immediate answer, though it doesn’t answer either the issues of ‘what about people who feel intimidated/don’t know they can ask’ and the issue of what happens to teens who are looking for legitimate info (teen-appropriate sexual health content, religious content, etc.) who don’t have the option to have it disabled.
2) Look at the library’s policies.
In this case (and again, not mentioning the library directly), they did in fact have a quite complete set of library policies linked from the library front page. Many parts of it would have been held up as excellent policy examples in many of my classes: it’s clearly that library staff have given a lot of thought to dealing with censorship concerns, and have put policies into place to minimise problems for their patrons.
But it was also clear from skimming it that it’s a library struggling with financial stresses, whose physical collection was less than they wanted it to be, and who were probably dealing with both cost-of-provision issues, and quite possibly staffing issues. (How can I tell? That’s a question for another post, if anyone’s interested.)
3) Talk to the library:
Why do your research first? Because if you come in saying “I really care about this access, and it’s clear from your policies that you take freedom of information issues seriously.” you’re going to have a much more pleasant conversation than if you start with “You’re censoring me!”
I’ve done my time answering really upset people about policy issues (mostly in a non-library setting: I was on the Abuse/Terms of Service team for LiveJournal for about 18 months). The people you’re talking to are human, with a bunch of stuff on their minds. As humans, they’ll do better if they don’t start on the defensive. And they’ll probably be willing to give you a lot more useful information that can help both you and them, if you’re pleasant to deal with (even if you end up disagreeing.)
(I could go into a long theory of how this also plays into the magical concept of ‘act as-if’, but due to length, am just going to handwave at it here. Will expand on request.)
Also, on a purely practical level, it is probably not the reference librarian who set the policy. It’s almost certainly not the circulation desk person. It may not even have been the library director (who may have been overruled by their board on some point, though at least they have more input.) Getting mad at people who can’t actually change something doesn’t usually help, on a purely practical level.
4) Be aware there may be invisible practical concerns:
- As already mentioned, the filter chosen may not allow the library to turn off specific categories or unblock specific sites.
- Many filters work on a yearly subscription model: the library may not have funds to change filtering services until the next budget cycle.
- It may take a couple of days to get the right combination of people in the same place to talk about a longer-term fix for an issue, especially if the library has multiple branches. (Librarians also have vacations, sick days, and varying schedules to contend with.)
5) What’s your actual request?
Consider volunteering a little time to help: it’s obviously going to be a larger amount of a problem if a filter blocks a wide range of sites (a wide range of religions, not just Pagan ones, political candidate websites, health websites, etc.) than if the blocks are few and far between.
Your local library is probably understaffed. Consider seeing if you can volunteer to run some further tests for them on what’s blocked and what isn’t, or asking what else you might be able to do to help them make a better case for different options for their filters.
Part of this might also be asking what their policy is for book donations: libraries have different policies about this for a wide range of practical reasons, but one way to get more material from a wide range of viewpoints available is to donate it! Arranging a book donation drive of books on less common religions might be a great way to help out a lot of people in the community at once.
Some final notes:
I know there *are* religiously biased librarians out there - but honestly, I have yet to run into one. Everyone I’ve talked to about Pagan materials in libraries has been thoughtful, engaged, and interested in the practical issues, regardless of their own religious beliefs.
However, it is important to note something many people don’t realise. There’s a difference in the profession between those people who have a Master’s degree (generally considered the ‘entry level’ degree for professional jobs) and those who don’t. The two common degrees are a Master’s of Library Science or a Master’s of Library/Information Science.
The MLS/MLIS degree includes information on professional ethics, freedom of information issues, providing library service to diverse communities, and other topics related to privacy of information and freedom of access. People with the degree generally have responsibility for collection development (what items are included in the library), setting policy, and managing the collection and staff.
In a public library setting:
- The library director probably has a Master’s.
- Ideally, so do the reference staff - though due to budget issues, this is not true in all libraries.
- Circulation staff, shelvers, and pagers may have extensive experience with the library, but they probably haven’t gotten the professional ethics training described above.
Small libraries (especially in very small communities) often hire a librarian who does not have a MLIS: this is largely a financial decision (though, honestly, it’s not like jobs with the MLIS necessarily pay all that much more.)
Especially in small isolated systems (not a branch of a larger system) it can happen that the library and librarian forgets about smaller parts of the community, or they get a lot of pressure to go along with the majority view on some issues. Unfortunate but true, but something I file in the “humans are humans” category: libraries are supposed to respond to their communities, and the line between appropriate response and going too far is sometimes a little hard to tell when you’re in the middle of it without direct professional support.
Recently, I’ve been seeing the phrase “I can’t find anyone near me to learn from!” quite a bit more often. And there are times it makes me wonder.
The most recent was a few minutes ago, on one of the local email lists for the Pagan community in the Twin Cities (Minnesota) area, where someone was posting because she can’t find anyone near her to work with.
There’s a reason the Twin Cities are sometimes referred to as Paganistan.
We have a large and active community, especially given our relative size. There are public rituals, classes (free and otherwise), reasonably local festivals, and three local stores focusing specifically on the Pagan community. Last year’s two day Pagan Pride weekend had 35 workshops or discussions, 5 rituals, and a wide range of entertainment, vendors, and informational booths from groups in the area. (I’m on the board, I get to be pleased with this.)
I can drive most places in the Twin Cities I might need to in about 20-40 minutes outside of rush hours. (Maybe twice that, if you’re going from one suburb to another on the opposite side of the metro.) It makes getting to religious events around town a few times a month pretty feasible, even with gas prices where they are. (I have in mind a post about the actual costs of group membership, but this is not that post. Soon, though.)
If you don’t have a car, it’s a little trickier - a number of groups, including my former one, meet in homes which are not easily bus accessible, or not bus friendly on weekends. (In the case of the former covenstead, the nearest buses run about every 2 hours, and the closest stop is a serious walk away - not something I’d suggest after a demanding ritual.)
There are ways around that, though, with a little thought. Getting rides from someone, or getting a ride back to the nearest reasonable bus stop are both options people have used at various points. It often works out - and one of the reasons I regularly give friends rides is that I love the one on one time talking in the car, so I benefit too.
There are also a large number of resources for finding out about groups. I’ve already talked about many of these elsewhere. Witchvox is the most obvious, but there are the bulletin boards in stores, and various other online resources. I happen to know there *are* several groups that meet more towards her side of town. It’s not always obvious from the Witchvox listings (because several groups list themselves as Minneapolis or St. Paul, rather than the smaller suburb they’re in).
It is more clear if you go and look at individual group’s websites or more detailed descriptions, something that takes a couple of hours maybe, but is totally doable with a little investment of energy. (How do I know this? I went through every group listing on Witchvox a few weeks ago as part of sending out programming emails for Pagan Pride.)
There is also the other question: we’re talking here, at least in terms of Wiccan traditions, about small groups of people with a specific focus. Chances are good there *isn’t* going to be the perfect group for you right down the street. But if your life is generally in good order (as it should be if you’re looking at initiatory training and ongoing group work), you should be in a place that you can figure this out, somehow.
It may not be easy. It may take some sacrifice. (And I say this as someone whose ‘fun spending money’ for the past few years has been on the order of $20-40 a month to cover all non-necessary expenses.) But there are ways for determined people to find some solutions.
Not in the urban areas?
I have far less experience with more rural areas - I’ve lived all my life in either cities (as an adult) or first ring suburbs (my childhood) or second ring ones with reasonable transportation (college). The simple fact is that when there are fewer people, you’re probably going to have fewer and harder choices.
This is true whether you’re looking for Wicca, for a really good music teacher, for a less common sport, for a particular hobby, or whatever else: it’s a simple factor of numbers. The good news is that the methods that work for those things often work for Wicca - maybe it means coming up once a month for the weekend, instead of 4-6 times over the course of the month. Maybe it means doing some work over the phone or online (the stuff that can be done that way.) Maybe it means working out something else.
My former group had someone who drove about 90 minutes to get to us, from the middle of Wisconsin. Yes, it was a long haul. Yes, there were things she missed - she was up usually for two things a month, not more. Yes, there were times the weather was horrible, and she didn’t show up (and around here, that can be snowstorms, or it can be thunderstorms. Both are bad times to be driving.)
But everyone made it work for almost two years, before her focus shifted, and the group’s focus shifted a bit. That’s long enough for someone to get a solid base for personal practice, and to get connections to the rest of the community if they want to pick them up in future, which are excellent things.
The real question:
How badly do you want something? How much do you want to change your life to make this fit? That’s the question that *every* new interest or hobby or desire brings to us. It isn’t something new or strange or peculiar to being a witch.
Every new thing we want has challenges. If we want to do it well, we’re almost certainly going to have to invest in learning - time away from other things, money (to get to where we need to be, if nothing else), focus and attention to learn that come from other activities. We may give up time with our loved ones, hobbies, casual interests.
Witchcraft traditions just take it a little further. How much do we want this? How much do we want to invest in having a life that’s stable enough that we can take on the challenges (and joys) of initiatory work? Are we willing to work slowly towards a goal that might take two years, five years, ten years to fully achieve? Are we willing to wait for the right place, not the one down the street, or the one that looks easiest?
If we are, then it’s sometimes easier to step back and figure out what it takes to get there - what practical steps we can take now that will make it easier a few years down the road. But the patience to get an idea what we’re truly seeking is critical.
Yesterday, as I mentioned, I got an email asking me about book suggestions. This turned out to be a surprisingly good motivator to get something done I’d been meaning to do for several months, which was to actually write up commentary on books I’d generally recommend.
There are four pages:
- Book Suggestions talks about how I approach the whole process. Go read it first.
- Books: Introductory Works highlights the intro books I think are generally solid starting points (but read more than one! Read many! You get better perspective that way.)
- Books with more details covers those books that go deeper into a particular topic.
- Other books worth reading includes those books which have other specific merits (and includes relevant fiction.)
I’ve added these links to the index page, as well.
I’ve seen a number of comments online in the last few weeks about people who comment that they find going to open rituals hard, because they’re so cliqueish. I can’t evaluate their experiences (since I don’t live where they live, and therefore am not seeing the same things), but I do have some thoughts.
My experience:
Most of my religious life is done in a smallish group setting in the training group I’ve been working with for 6+ years (I’m in the process on hiving, so this is changing.) But I do go to open rituals in my community a few times a year (at Pagan Pride, and usually once or twice for other rituals put on by various groups or under the auspices of our local Covenant of the Goddess grove.)
I certainly have gone to public rituals where I didn’t know anyone (or only one or two people) - my first was about 10 years ago, and then a series of three or four about 7 years ago, before I found the group I’ve been with since. I’m currently looking at going to some events outside my local area, where I may know only one or two people (who have other obligations at the ritual).
Who’s there, and why?
The first thing I keep in mind that people go to public rituals for all sorts of different reasons. My experience of people who might be at a public ritual looks something like this:
- People new to Paganism and curious: not sure if this is for them.
- People who are exploring the local community, who are often looking to make connections with a teacher, small group, or other activities.
- People who enjoy coming to a couple of public rituals a year, but who don’t have any strong connections within the local community (and often don’t really want them.)
- Students or potential students of smaller groups who are encouraged or required to attend some public rituals as part of their training.
- People who have been around the local community for a while (who may do other group work as well), who like to come, see who’s doing what, and catch up with people they don’t see often (or to see how someone they know or a group in town does ritual.)
- Local group leaders, teachers, and other people who organise or lead stuff in the community (again, often to see what’s up with other folks, and sometimes to meet people who might be interested in their groups.)
- And sometimes, the people putting on the ritual are doing so as part of their training or other requirements in learning to lead a larger ritual. (Other times, the group putting on the ritual puts on larger rituals on a regular schedule.)
Some of these groups are more likely to be really open to meeting someone totally new than others. People in groups 1 and 2 often want to meet other new folks, but they also often want to meet people who are established within the local community. People in group 3 sometimes are open to newcomers - but they sometimes just want to come to a ritual someone else is doing, and talk to their friends, and go home.
Groups 4-6 may very well be open to talking to unknown folks - but they’re also going to have other people they know, may want to catch up with, or maybe have other things to pay attention to. And the folks in group 7 may be frenzied and nervous beforehand, and desperately in need of sitting down, something to eat and drink, and a few deep breaths afterwards.
For example, I sometimes go to public rituals to keep students in the group I work with company (and in case they have questions afterwards, or need help grounding after the ritual.) In those cases, my first focus is going to be on the people I’m there with: I’m not going to be as able to wander around the room asking people who look like they don’t know anyone how they’re doing.
When is a clique not a clique?
What is a clique? Is it “There’s this bunch of people talking together, and they know each other, and I don’t know them?” Or is it “There’s this bunch of people talking together, and no matter where I try to introduce myself, I get totally shut out, even when I’m approaching it appropriately?” I’m not sure that *any* of the groups on my list are automatically cliquish. I reserve ‘cliquish’ for people who don’t let anyone else into the conversation, and who might as well be in their own homes for all the interaction they do.
Personally, if I’m in any of those groups (and I’ve been in all of them except #3 since I do have strong community connections) and someone comes up and says “Hi, I’m new, can you help me out?” I’ll be glad to do it. (Except if I’m leading ritual, in which case I’ll find them someone who can chat more, so I can get back to prepping.)
If someone comes and hangs around the edges of the space, though, and doesn’t ever indicate they’re interested in meeting people - chances are, I’m going to leave them alone.
That’s partly because I’m an introvert, and large group events tend to take a lot out of me already: it’s extra work to check on other people in the room. This means I tend to forget to circulate and check in with people unless I pay close attention to it. I do that at the rituals for the small group I work with, and I do it when I’m leading or helping with larger group rituals. But I don’t always do it when I’m a fellow participant at a group ritual.
It’s also partly because it’s what the culture I grew up in, and the culture I live in now (Massachusetts and Minnesota) feel is polite. If someone is alone, and isn’t showing signs that they want to be included (or that something’s obviously wrong), you let them be. If they’re crying or shaking, or obviously upset, then you help. If they say “Hey, I’m new, mind if I join you?” then you do what you can to include them.
Getting included:
There are some things you can do to improve your odds.
Advance notice:
If you know you’re going to a public ritual in advance, consider contacting the organisers and saying “Hi, I’m new to the community, I’m planning to come to X ritual. Is there a good way for me to meet people?”
You may not get a reply back (people are busy: it may slip through the cracks if one person reads the email, and someone else deals with more complex replies.) But you might also get useful information - that anyone still around at 9pm usually goes out for dessert after the ritual, or that there will be a meet-and-greet time before ritual starts, and to introduce yourself as new, or to ask for [Specific Person] and they’ll introduce you around.
It also lets the people running the ritual know that there are new folks there for certain, and may remind them to include some ways to let people introduce themselves/get involved.
Volunteer.
This is the single fastest way to my heart, and the heart of many other event organisers. You don’t need to volunteer for anything fancy: help setting up chairs, or putting them away, or putting out potluck food, are all very much appreciated. Find someone who isn’t immediately involved in ritual prep, say “Hi, I’m new to the community. What can I do to help?” (If you have physical limits, figure out a fast way to explain them: “I can’t help set up chairs, but is there anything I can do to help sitting down?” for example.)
If you volunteer, you may well meet people while you’re doing it (depending on the task), but I’m also much more likely to say “Hey, come sit with us” during the potluck if I know you’re new and want to meet people (which I’d know by someone volunteering and saying so.)
Pay attention:
Many group rituals will have either a chance for people to share names around the circle, an introduction for new folks before ritual, or some announcement about where to find people to eat with after ritual. Use these to your advantage if you want to meet people. If you introduce yourself, say “Hi, I’m [name], and I’m new to the area, and looking forward to meeting people.” or something else about that length. It’ll let people know you’re interested in chatting.
Many public groups will have some way to identify the people leading the ritual (ribbons, emblems, clothing, etc.) or they’ll introduce them before ritual starts. Make a note of anyone - especially people besides the priest and priestess (who will be busy before and after ritual): if you need help finding people to talk to, try them. (I think this is part of the job of offering a public ritual, personally.)
Be brave:
This is the hardest one: it can be really hard to tell if that group over there is open to some random stranger sitting down or not. Look for a varied group that seems appealing to you, and say “Hey, I’m new here: mind if I join you, or are you catching up with old friends?” If they say “Oh, gosh, we haven’t seen each other in six months, we might bore you.” you might want to go elsewhere, but chances are good they’ll say “Join us!”
If the first group you try doesn’t work, migrate, and try someone else. Hanging out around the food table or a firepit will usually get you near other people, and you can feel free to join in on conversations in these places unless they’re obviously private. Be polite, but don’t feel you need to be silent.
Share the conversational work:
If people keep trying to engage you in conversation, but you give one or two word answers, they’ll probably stop trying eventually, and go back to talking amongst themselves. Ask questions about the ritual, the area, the local community, the group that put on the ritual, and so on. (Be polite, but it’s fine to say “I hadn’t seen anyone do X before: that was really cool: how does that compare to this other thing I’ve read about?” for example.)
Be prepared with a short answer to likely questions like “What path are you on?” or “Are you looking for groups in the area?” or “How long have you been Pagan?”as well as the more common “Are you new to the area?” or “When did you move?” You don’t need to share your detailed life history but it helps to think about what you’re comfortable sharing or not sharing in advance.
Know thyself:
This one is perhaps most important. Not everyone thrives in the same settings.
It may be that going to a public ritual is fine for you for ritual reasons, but not a good way for you to meet people. It may be that a smaller Meet-up, Coffee Cauldron, or Pagan’s Night Out would be a better fit for you (these are smaller gatherings at coffee shops or local places to eat that are specifically designed for you to meet people. )
Or it may be that you’re most comfortable in a more traditional class setting - in this case, you might look for one session or short series of classes on a topic you’re interested in (introduction to Wicca, astrology, divination, a book discussion, herbs, etc.) and then see if there’s anyone in that class you’d like to get to know better.
It may also be true for you (as it was for me) that you figure out that you prefer smaller, more consistent ritual experiences, in which case you may want to explore smaller groups in your area. I also felt a lot more comfortable visiting the group I eventually joined than I did in public rituals, because everyone knew I was a seeker, and interested, and I didn’t have to go and find conversations to join. There were about 20 people at my first ritual with the group, and I knew some people there from the Seeker classes I’d already been to. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating.
Not everyone will be a fit:
There are a lot of fantastic people in the Pagan community. There are also people who are wrapped up in their own lives (sometimes with very good reason, if they’re worried about friends or family.) There are also sometimes people who are jerks, clueless, or even predatory. Use your common sense. If someone feels ‘off’ to you, go find other people to talk to.
At the same time, don’t write off anyone on a single meeting unless you are absolutely sure you *never* want to spend time with them again. Everyone has the occasional bad day: it’s worth giving people a second or third chance (in a different type of setting: quieter, one where they’re not responsible for the event, where they’re relaxed, etc.) before writing them off entirely or assuming they’re snobby or cliquish. Take your time before committing to anything (or any group) or taking sides in a local division of opinion.
Finally, if there’s a local networking email list, you may want to consider posting to it - or at least reading. It can help you get a feel for some names and faces. If you’re nervous about an upcoming public ritual, you could also post and say “Hey, interested in meeting people.” and offering some way to identify you. You’ll often find people who would be glad to talk and introduce you to others.