ASSOCIATES (vol. 2, no. 3, March 1996) - associates.ucr.edu
*Outsourcing: One Paraprofessional's Experience*
by
Pam Bigus
"Your presence is required at a meeting Wednesday, June 9, at 9:00
... Please be prompt," read the e-mail message on my screen. As
supervisor of the Copy Cataloging Unit, I had a feeling that this
would be the meeting where 3 of our staff might be told their
work--LC copy cataloging--would be outsourced and their jobs
eliminated. I dreaded the meeting and was concerned about how
this news would affect them. What would I say to them after the
meeting?
As we filed into the room, I noticed that all but one of the
department's classified staff members were there. At another table
were members of the library administrative team. At the front of
the room sat the University Librarian, the Acting Vice President
for Academic Affairs (immediate supervisor of the University
Librarian), and the Director of Human Resources for the
entire university. Hmmmm ... quite a turnout.
The meeting began with the announcement that all of the library
cataloging and authority work would be outsourced, and then a
transparency was slapped on the overhead projector showing a list
of the people whose jobs would be eliminated.
Within a few seconds, a sinking feeling filled my stomach when I
saw not only the names of the 3 people I was expecting to see, but
also the names of all but one of the paraprofessionals in the
department, including myself. What a shock. I had no clue. One
of our staff members began to quietly weep. I don't remember much
of anything that was said after that. Something about saving
money, the whole thing not taking effect for 3 months, and that all
9 of us would either be taking empty positions (so that's why those
jobs hadn't been filled) or we would be bumping staff with less
seniority. The rest of the library staff were informed in another
meeting scheduled immediately following ours.
Everyone was in shock for the rest of the day. I thought to
myself, "Well, at least I'm not out of a job. There's nothing I
can do, so I might as well roll with the punches." I concentrated
on my work, feeling that I was OK with this; not *happy* but OK.
That is, until I walked out the door that afternoon. As the fresh
air hit me, sadness suddenly washed over me and I began to cry.
I went home and cried, off and on, most of the evening.
For the past 24 years, as I would drive across the campus to the
library, I'd get that comfortable feeling of going to my second
"home" and "family." Together, we had been through a lot of
changes, both good and bad. I felt a bond to the university as a
whole and to the library in particular. I felt good about my job.
The new director had brought about a number of great changes,
including the latest technology in information science. We had
been re-arranged and re-organized, and out of this I had received
a promotion that I'd been hoping to get for the past 15 years or
so. But, if I may borrow from the Eagles' song, in a "New York
minute" everything changed. The morning after that fateful
meeting, and for the next several months, I felt alienated from
the university. It seemed that I had been disowned by my second
"family."
There was no longer that sense of mutual loyalty. There was now an
air of "us-versus-them." All those years of honing my craft and
following every cataloging rule were a waste of time. No one cared
about that any more. I was certainly willing to accept that the
rules were different now (I am no opponent of change), but I was
still overwhelmed by the feeling that all those years of watching
every "jot and tittle" were for naught. Just think of all the
worthwhile work we *could* have been doing instead.
For the next three months low morale, tension, and fear were
palpable. The rest of the classified staff in the library began to
wonder, "Are we next?" Paranoia was in the air, and a distrust of
the administration developed. When told that Acquisitions would
not be outsourced, few believed it. (Two years and five months
later, some people still expect to hear that Acquisitions will soon
be outsourced.) A number of staff, both in Cataloging and in other
departments, began searching for new jobs. Some found positions
before the transition date, which provided some relief. The more
empty positions available in three months, the fewer people would
be bumped out of their jobs.
Shortly before we were to move to our new positions, we each met
with the Director of Human Resources, our former department head,
and at least one other person (I cannot remember who), at which
time we were given a letter of explanation of what was happening
and what our options were. Because I had the highest
classification in the library (60 level) and there was no one else
at that level, I had the choice of refusing to bump into the next
lower classification. I would be put on a list for one year,
during which time I would be called back if another 60-level
position opened up. I knew the chances of this were slim and
none, since downsizing and cutting costs comprised the new
order of things. If after a year there were no 60-level positions
available, my name would be removed from the list, and I would have
to formally apply for *any* job at the university. (During that
year, I would be unemployed, of course.)
I accepted a vacant 50-level position in the Acquisitions
Department. At least it was a daytime job, although it would mean
working Saturdays at the public service desk. Nearly all of the
other positions involved nights and/or weekends. Most of the rest
of the staff had only one choice: accept the lateral move they were
offered or be out of a job. On the morning we were to assume our
new positions, one woman called in and said she would not be taking
the job. I nearly did the same thing myself because I had no
desire to work at the public service desk, let alone in a less
responsible, non-supervisory position.
As could be expected, there was a period of adjustment, rougher for
some than others. My faith in God kept me going, and others turned
to whatever inner resources they relied upon to get them through
this tough time. The University was generous in offering us career
counseling as well as free psychological counseling. In addition,
the library administration had given us three month's notice even
though they were only required to give us two weeks. In spite of
all this, some people could not adjust and had to leave.
One person, who was forced to move from a 50- to a 40-level
classification at the time, regained his 50-level when an
equivalent position was vacated. it turned out to be a more
desirable job than the one he held before he was bumped out.
A similar thing happened to another staff member, but even though
he was restored to his former classsification level, the new job
was less desirable - 2nd shift, Sunday through Thursday.
Most of us who are still here have adapted and are working hard to
succeed in our current positions. Although I have regained my
60-level classification - through a recent audit - I'm not as
content in this job as I was in Cataloging. I am not officially
supervising anyone in my current position, although I am work
leader for the serials check-in unit and have many of the
responsibilities of a supervisor. The work itself is not nearly as
intellectually challenging as my former job cataloging audiovisual
and music materials, but it has its moments.
I briefly thought about moving on to something else; perhaps an
entirely different line of work or maybe go back to school. In the
end, of course, I decided to stay. I have 7 years before I am
eligible for full retirement benefits, and anything can happen
during that time.
If you're still with me, what you have just read is only *one*
paraprofessional's experience with outsourcing of cataloging. I
cannot presume to speak for anyone else. I just hope that those of
you out there who are facing outsourcing with fear and trepidation
will use my experience to be prepared for it. If you have a good
relationship with your administrator, discuss it ahead of time with
him/her, if possible. Ask if provisions, such as counseling, can
be made in anticipation of the fallout. Perhaps your institution
does not need to outsource the entire operation, but just part of
it; or maybe for a limited period of time. (I know of one hospital
library that tried it, but it proved unworkable for them.)
Saving money is the name of the game in almopst every area of
employment these days. Outsourcing is going on in many
businesses, and it appears that there will be a lot more of it in
libraries before all is said and done. Even though you will have
many of the same emotional reactions that we did, some of you will
not come out as fortunate, job-wise, as most of us have here. A
few of you may come out in better shape. Some may even welcome it
as an escape from a boring and dead-end job.
The element of surprise was our worst enemy. Most, if not all, of
the paraprofessional staff here had never heard of outsourcing
until the day it was announced as our future. Now that this is a
hot topic in libraries and many of you are aware of this trend,
perhaps it won t hit you as hard. In any event, I wish you all the
best and hope my experience will help some of you make the
transition more smoothly and less painfully.
OUTSOURCING -- ONE PARAPROFESSIONAL'S EXPERIENCE
by
Pam Bigus
Library Associate
Acquisitions Dept.
Wright State University
pbigus@library.wright.edu
"Your presence is required at a meeting Wednesday, June 9, at 9:00
... Please be prompt," read the e-mail message on my screen. As
supervisor of the Copy Cataloging Unit, I had a feeling that this
would be the meeting where 3 of our staff might be told their
work--LC copy cataloging--would be outsourced and their jobs
eliminated. I dreaded the meeting and was concerned about how
this news would affect them. What would I say to them after the
meeting?
As we filed into the room, I noticed that all but one of the
department's classified staff members were there. At another table
were members of the library administrative team. At the front of
the room sat the University Librarian, the Acting Vice President
for Academic Affairs (immediate supervisor of the University
Librarian), and the Director of Human Resources for the
entire university. Hmmmm ... quite a turnout.
The meeting began with the announcement that all of the library
cataloging and authority work would be outsourced, and then a
transparency was slapped on the overhead projector showing a list
of the people whose jobs would be eliminated.
Within a few seconds, a sinking feeling filled my stomach when I
saw not only the names of the 3 people I was expecting to see, but
also the names of all but one of the paraprofessionals in the
department, including myself. What a shock. I had no clue. One
of our staff members began to quietly weep. I don't remember much
of anything that was said after that. Something about saving
money, the whole thing not taking effect for 3 months, and that all
9 of us would either be taking empty positions (so that's why those
jobs hadn't been filled) or we would be bumping staff with less
seniority. The rest of the library staff were informed in another
meeting scheduled immediately following ours.
Everyone was in shock for the rest of the day. I thought to
myself, "Well, at least I'm not out of a job. There's nothing I
can do, so I might as well roll with the punches." I concentrated
on my work, feeling that I was OK with this; not *happy* but OK.
That is, until I walked out the door that afternoon. As the fresh
air hit me, sadness suddenly washed over me and I began to cry.
I went home and cried, off and on, most of the evening.
For the past 24 years, as I would drive across the campus to the
library, I'd get that comfortable feeling of going to my second
"home" and "family." Together, we had been through a lot of
changes, both good and bad. I felt a bond to the university as a
whole and to the library in particular. I felt good about my job.
The new director had brought about a number of great changes,
including the latest technology in information science. We had
been re-arranged and re-organized, and out of this I had received
a promotion that I'd been hoping to get for the past 15 years or
so. But, if I may borrow from the Eagles' song, in a "New York
minute" everything changed. The morning after that fateful
meeting, and for the next several months, I felt alienated from
the university. It seemed that I had been disowned by my second
"family."
There was no longer that sense of mutual loyalty. There was now an
air of "us-versus-them." All those years of honing my craft and
following every cataloging rule were a waste of time. No one cared
about that any more. I was certainly willing to accept that the
rules were different now (I am no opponent of change), but I was
still overwhelmed by the feeling that all those years of watching
every "jot and tittle" were for naught. Just think of all the
worthwhile work we *could* have been doing instead.
For the next three months low morale, tension, and fear were
palpable. The rest of the classified staff in the library began to
wonder, "Are we next?" Paranoia was in the air, and a distrust of
the administration developed. When told that Acquisitions would
not be outsourced, few believed it. (Two years and five months
later, some people still expect to hear that Acquisitions will soon
be outsourced.) A number of staff, both in Cataloging and in other
departments, began searching for new jobs. Some found positions
before the transition date, which provided some relief. The more
empty positions available in three months, the fewer people would
be bumped out of their jobs.
Shortly before we were to move to our new positions, we each met
with the Director of Human Resources, our former department head,
and at least one other person (I cannot remember who), at which
time we were given a letter of explanation of what was happening
and what our options were. Because I had the highest
classification in the library (60 level) and there was no one else
at that level, I had the choice of refusing to bump into the next
lower classification. I would be put on a list for one year,
during which time I would be called back if another 60-level
position opened up. I knew the chances of this were slim and
none, since downsizing and cutting costs comprised the new
order of things. If after a year there were no 60-level positions
available, my name would be removed from the list, and I would have
to formally apply for *any* job at the university. (During that
year, I would be unemployed, of course.)
I accepted a vacant 50-level position in the Acquisitions
Department. At least it was a daytime job, although it would mean
working Saturdays at the public service desk. Nearly all of the
other positions involved nights and/or weekends. Most of the rest
of the staff had only one choice: accept the lateral move they were
offered or be out of a job. On the morning we were to assume our
new positions, one woman called in and said she would not be taking
the job. I nearly did the same thing myself because I had no
desire to work at the public service desk, let alone in a less
responsible, non-supervisory position.
As could be expected, there was a period of adjustment, rougher for
some than others. My faith in God kept me going, and others turned
to whatever inner resources they relied upon to get them through
this tough time. The University was generous in offering us career
counseling as well as free psychological counseling. In addition,
the library administration had given us three month's notice even
though they were only required to give us two weeks. In spite of
all this, some people could not adjust and had to leave.
One person, who was forced to move from a 50- to a 40-level
classification at the time, regained his 50-level when an
equivalent position was vacated. it turned out to be a more
desirable job than the one he held before he was bumped out.
A similar thing happened to another staff member, but even though
he was restored to his former classsification level, the new job
was less desirable - 2nd shift, Sunday through Thursday.
Most of us who are still here have adapted and are working hard to
succeed in our current positions. Although I have regained my
60-level classification - through a recent audit - I'm not as
content in this job as I was in Cataloging. I am not officially
supervising anyone in my current position, although I am work
leader for the serials check-in unit and have many of the
responsibilities of a supervisor. The work itself is not nearly as
intellectually challenging as my former job cataloging audiovisual
and music materials, but it has its moments.
I briefly thought about moving on to something else; perhaps an
entirely different line of work or maybe go back to school. In the
end, of course, I decided to stay. I have 7 years before I am
eligible for full retirement benefits, and anything can happen
during that time.
If you're still with me, what you have just read is only *one*
paraprofessional's experience with outsourcing of cataloging. I
cannot presume to speak for anyone else. I just hope that those of
you out there who are facing outsourcing with fear and trepidation
will use my experience to be prepared for it. If you have a good
relationship with your administrator, discuss it ahead of time with
him/her, if possible. Ask if provisions, such as counseling, can
be made in anticipation of the fallout. Perhaps your institution
does not need to outsource the entire operation, but just part of
it; or maybe for a limited period of time. (I know of one hospital
library that tried it, but it proved unworkable for them.)
Saving money is the name of the game in almopst every area of
employment these days. Outsourcing is going on in many
businesses, and it appears that there will be a lot more of it in
libraries before all is said and done. Even though you will have
many of the same emotional reactions that we did, some of you will
not come out as fortunate, job-wise, as most of us have here. A
few of you may come out in better shape. Some may even welcome it
as an escape from a boring and dead-end job.
The element of surprise was our worst enemy. Most, if not all, of
the paraprofessional staff here had never heard of outsourcing
until the day it was announced as our future. Now that this is a
hot topic in libraries and many of you are aware of this trend,
perhaps it won t hit you as hard. In any event, I wish you all the
best and hope my experience will help some of you make the
transition more smoothly and less painfully.