By Derek Cram, MLIS Student

#NDSRS17

The "Father of the Bill of Rights" wrote that at some point, although I don't know when: 1788 probably, when a third of the Federalist Papers appeared from the inkwell at James Madison's desk. Certainly, something to ponder after staying in the lower middle class "black" side of town and taking the metro Green Line into the heart of the Capitol. America's version of the Emerald City is a surreal representation of every other urban center in the country. Through a confluence of morning solar beams and dim halogens overhead, I see shadows and reflections of my current hometown, Detroit. The journey outward that is a Lost Highway for many has the power to inform. Knowledge flows hidden all around, waiting to be tapped. We may learn about the people whom we share precious space with, and even something about ourselves. After L'Enfant, going east on the orange/silver/blue line just a few stops to Capitol South, skin gradually becomes lighter, the clothes dressier and stiffly conservative, the people somewhat friendly, but not as compassionate as the young Afro-American lady who had paused her daily routine to help me figure out how to buy a ticket to ride. I hadn't slept much. I had underestimated the deterrent effect of road maintenance and stuffy rooms. It was a mistake that I value as part of what makes me who I am.

Sunlight illuminates the escalator through a gap in the white honeycombed half-tube of walls and ceiling. City noise buzzes overhead, becoming less and less drowned out by amplified voices and the rattling vibrations of substratum trains. Minerva-blessed women's and men's business suits accompany smiling pedestrians into the governmental center.
I stand on the sidewalk, somewhat bewildered. The Madison quote is still several minutes ahead of me. I impatiently tap Google Maps on my phone and walk the long way around the massive James Madison Memorial Building. The neighborhood is upscale and pleasantly carefree: lines of adjoining storefronts and quaint, narrow homes reminiscent of a small town; exquisite red brick sidewalks; tidy racks of bicycles for rent. It's a life that I am unused to, even having grown up in small towns, and which invites the morning daydreamers in with welcoming acknowledgements from passersby who thoroughly enjoy their occupations, by the looks of them. No sign of frustration. No weight of the bureaucracy on their shoulders. Such forces crush most Detroiters during the twice-daily gauntlet of rush hour traffic. I didn't think these things were still possible in America.

Even the guards are relaxed as I search for and eventually find the entrance. A massive sculpture resembling a spilled box of giant Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal with Cambrian Period fossils appearing on thin, course, gray metal folded squares and rectangles cover the high iron frame above the doors. To the left, above me, is the James Madison quote. Even though I am late for the 9am registration, the quote is heavy and I need a moment to lift it back where it belongs.
Lately, I wonder about the powers written into the Bill of Rights in protecting the "more perfect Union" described in the preamble of the United States Constitution. Madison must have had incredible foresight in behavioral observation of his fellows, with influence from The Virginia Declaration of Rights, in warning about the dangers of oppression by Government and corruption from our leadership. He couldn't have known that, over 200 years later, Congress would sign the USA PATRIOT Act and the Homeland Security Act, further empowering Congress and the President beyond the designs of Constitutional checks and balances. Yet he knew the patterns, and he wrote,

"Liberty may be endangered by the abuse of liberty, but also by the abuse of power."

Our nation's current representation in leadership is governing on our behalf with the power of knowledge through manipulation and deception. They have redefined "democracy" to fit their own agendas and mean to sweep invaluable information under the rug. This is how I see it, anyway. I worry that democracy is at an end. Even here, where a grand example has been set for how the American Republic should carry itself, is found a paradox and outright lie.
Those of us who happen to be born outside of the silver-lined nest of gilded nest eggs, such as those I accompanied on the Green Line, and myself, shouldn't have to constantly re-defend our rights as citizens. There are ways in which we can arm ourselves. We have the power of knowledge in our hands.

The NDSR Symposium

This as I head to the National Digital Stewardship Residency Symposium 2017, being held on the 6th floor of the Library of Congress James Madison Memorial Building. The NDSR is relatively new, having begun in 2013 by the Library of Congress in conjunction with the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS), which is also funding the event. The original goal of the program was to build expertise from the ground up and "to encourage LIS schools to include more experiential learning as part of their standard curricula".
Currently, there are six NDSR projects in four major U.S. cities (D.C., Boston, N.Y., and Philadelphia). Each supports an expanding array of "Hosts" and "Residencies". The purpose of the symposium is, in fact, to expand the reach of NDSR. Bigger, better, stronger, is the aim, at a time when government funds through IMLS and other agencies are under threat.
The Residency program is to help recently-graduated librarians and archivists transition into a digitally-focused career. They are one and two-year residencies with various host institutions across the country that utilize digital technology, the majority being for public broadcasting. Once the resident is assigned, they fall directly under a mentor from the NDSR and as such are not employees of the workplace. They are there to learn, not to fetch coffee. That comes later.
The 6th floor is much like a hotel conference center. The Mumford Room reminds me of the years I spent setting up for such events at hotels, in fact. I'm not entirely sure why I am here, but there's an NDSR badge with my name on it. I am not questioned. I am not kicked out. On the contrary, I am ushered in with open arms (i.e. the symposium is free to the public, limiting 120 guests). Wayne State University School of Library and Information Science proves a lone wolf amidst groups of laptop-armed young professionals, however, and I feel somewhat wall-flowered at the event. Still, I dig in. I want to know why I am here as much as they do.

The symposium begins with the gradual easement of chatter as Margo Padilla, the Strategic Programs Manager at The Metropolitan New York Library Council (METRO), welcomes everyone and introduces some of the key players.

The first is a professor from New York University, Howard Besser, who discusses the birth of NDSR. The program materialized from the foreheads of just a few people in response to the perceived dark matter between information science institutions along the informational ecosystem. Not only does this concept of technological development seem an intelligent response to a changing world, but captures the heart and soul of Egan and Shera's social epistemology, which is the study of processes by which the society seeks to achieve a profound understanding of its environment and the relation it shares with that environment in total, thus unfurling the deeper meaning of informational stewardship: Humanism, the vast importance of communicating the information about our world, and the grand service provided through its care. This is important stuff! I am intrigued.

Second is Robert Newlen, Deputy Librarian for Institutional Advancement at the Library of Congress. A slew of catchphrases widens the symposium's collective mindset: "Pushing boundaries in preserving American history"; "Energetic young thinkers"; "NDSR diversification". I momentarily ignore the rest just thinking of those three.

A man with a gray-white ponytail who wears a "MetaData" T-shirt designed to look like "Metallica" takes the informational baton from the young presenter as the third key to the puzzle. He is Trevor Owens, Senior Program Officer of the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS). He emphasizes the intended goal of the NDSR as the need to cultivate a digital library workforce. Museums and libraries must maintain a capacity to expand infrastructure. He says that a path is needed away from institutions of learning towards institutions that learn. He's a pretty cool guy!

Allison Druin, Special Advisor for National Digital Strategy at the National Parks Service who says she's soon heading out of her career speaks about "Guerrilla Archivists". Although accidental on the part of the Department of the Interior, their subversive and defiant anti-establishment posts garnered a huge response on Twitter from the citizenry of many nations and emphasizes the need for heroes in our time of woe: "We need to be digital activists" to save data.

"Exactly!" I'm thinking excitedly, still only on my first cup. We must go rogue to save our Alexandria. We must follow the heroic examples of "Guerrilla Archivists" in saving and preserving important data. Information is vital to the future of humanity and it cannot be fired, whitewashed, or cut from the budget. This is where Information Science comes in handy. This is its purpose, to provide the community and the world with an informational cultural showcase and repository. Its purpose is NOT to act as graduate-educated corporate secretaries. They are trustees of the legacy of humanity; an Alexandrian tradition which must be shared equally and without alteration or bias to retain full value.
The problem, of course, is money. The conversation's been too insular, she says. We need to do more. We cannot depend on IMLS alone. Only with the help and expansion of donors can the digital movement continue into a brighter future. Through professional activism, digital love can result in the germination of NDSR offshoots that grow to spread their virtual wings all over the world. Okay, she doesn't say that last part, but it sounds good.
Yay!
It's turning out to be a great, albeit sleep-deprived day.

After the break, we begin to hear from residents and mentors of past and present. The backbone of the program takes shape as I learn about the lives of residents and how the resident/mentor relationship works. They call themselves "cohorts", which is a word derived from the Roman Empire to describe a military unit. That gives me an idea of where their energy comes from. The entire room emanates a sense of togetherness, in fact. Even I, the rogue stranger sitting along the wall, feel a part of this group, and it changes me. My hidden heart beats for them and I wish that I was young again. It's probably just the caffeine though. As it is, I just smile when bewildered faces turn my way, or clap in turn, or laugh at the Power Ranger gifs, and learn about building a communication network through modern social media technology.
Residents are often geographically dispersed throughout the country, or even out of country in some cases, for a lucky few, and maintaining a support group is especially important for them, socially and professionally. It also encourages them to share what they are doing with others, which helps with outreach.
This brings the symposium to another important topic, that of sustainability of the NDSR campaign through a series of operations. How might the efforts of cohorts in the NDSR program maintain life beyond the one or two-year learning and growing tour of the resident? This is aside from the problem of maintaining access to information over the long term through the Open Archival Information System (OAIS) reference model.
The symposium thins out somewhat after the break. No doubt, something informational has kidnapped their attention. Things move on, regardless.
Guest speaker Heidi Elaine Kelly tackles this part with "Extending Training Findings Beyond NDSR". Heidi is a Wayne State University alumna who currently holds the position of Digital Preservation Librarian at Indiana University. Information in this area is lacking and needs studying, she says, to gather facts on the success of the program. And it seems there is room to grow for this relatively young effort to educate young professionals in the technically-challenging, boldly expanding digital profession.
After a discussion on what makes a digital steward, the symposium arrives at the final speaker (Howard Besser: "Digital Stewardship Competencies Survey"). Many of the guests have become restless. This is Washington D.C., after all. There's lots going on outside these walls.

And so why am I here? I am an inquisitive traveler, a wanderer in search of informational armament with which to reveal meaning in an increasingly chaotic world. I am a lifelong student, currently enrolled in the School of Library and Information Science (SLIS) at WSU. An email sent by NDSR lured me from the start. They offered a travel voucher. I went. What I find is a break in the storm-clouds thundering overhead, a refreshingly positive future direction for our young librarians and archivists. For those who dare to summit their video resume (which they assured us is about getting to know the applicant and not based on technological expertise) exists a life of learning outside geographical comfort zones that even challenges the institutions that teach, yet must learn to learn. A rebel future awaits the cohorts, equipped with a treasure trove of digital experience to shape an entire ecosystem, if they only manage to survive BHL Bootcamp. Daring, humorous, and inspiring are these young professionals.

The Future is Digitally Bright

April 29, 2017
Even days later, when I find myself in a wonderful sea of protest, the NDSRS lingers with its positively integral vision of the future. Technology is rising with the oceans and threatens to drown those who refuse to learn how to swim. Even better to be a surfer and ride those cresting waves right into the shoreline. I am more confident than ever that a people who mean to govern themselves will find their power in the knowledge that is being fought for in streets across this great republic that even now shines with the ethereal glow of its Forefathers. As digital activists, and through many other campaigns to bring about social change, good and bad hombres alike will fight to advance, disperse, and preserve information, every day of their lives, long after peace and democracy have been restored. That is the analog truth.
I have opened the doors to some, I hope, while others who know about or have even participated in the program are laughing, and so the choice is yours. Either way, put on your suit of choice, grab a board, and surf!! What are you waiting for?!

For further Info:
The National Digital Stewardship Residency Program
https://ndsr-program.org/

© 2017 by Dereck Jerome Cram