Home Improvement as Professional Development

Last weekend Kathy and I started in on a home improvement project. We'd hated the ugly wallpaper in the dining room and kitchen when we bought the house a dozen years ago. In a conversation over pizza at Rosati's we finally decided to tackle the project. And, a few hours later, I found myself asking the same, early-in-the-project question I usually ask, "Why did I decide to do this?"


Sometimes "ignorance" is the answer -- I don't fully understand or appreciate the complexity of what I am starting. Steven Pressfield (Do the Work) lists stupidity as the first of several "allies" in overcoming the resistance faced by artists and entrepreneurs:

Ignorance and arrogance are the artist and entrepreneur's indispensable allies. She must be clueless enough to have no idea how difficult her enterprise is going to be -- and cocky enough to believe she can pull it off anyway.

I think this was definitely the case when I put up a fence, hand-digging 2 ft-. and 3 ft.-deep post holes in our lovely, Central Texas soil. On this kitchen wallpaper project, however, I had a pretty good idea of what was coming. I'd previously removed the wallpaper in the entry way of our home, only to discover the various shortcuts the builders used, most notably failing to tape and float the corners, and neglecting to put a coat of primer on the drywall before hanging the paper. So if it wasn't ignorance...

Over the weekend, when I wasn't scoring, spraying, peeling, spraying, or scraping wallpaper/paste/oops -- drywall, I spent some time reading Manage Your Day-to-Day: Build Your Routine, Find Your Focus, and Sharpen Your Creative Mind (The 99U Book Series). A series of brief essays from a variety of creativity/productivity gurus, the book was a quick and enjoyable read. Within its pages I found not just a few tips for improved productivity and creativity, but also some possible explanation for my propensity to take on new DIY projects.

• In an essay on "Unnecessary Creation," Todd Henry (author of a book I started this week, The Accidental Creative: How to Be Brilliant at a Moment's Notice), advocates finding a means of "engaging in the creative act on our own terms." One benefit of "unnecessary creation," according to Henry, is that it allows you to develop skills that you can use later in your paid creative work. I can't say I've ever dug post holes or replaced carpet with a hardwood floor (my last big home improvement project) at the library. But part of the joy of UC is that the connection may not be obvious, or there may, in fact, never be a connection. I do, however, think I can point to a number of professional benefits from my DIY projects, such as improved respect from a facilities project manager who knows I've handled a jamb saw, refined ability to plan a project in an unfamiliar context, and positive reinforcement for the benefits of persevering in the face of a job that initially seemed overwhelming.
• Finding Solitude - Unlike the current wallpaper remediation project with my wife, most of my DIY jobs are solo ventures. As an introvert, I appreciate the time to focus and recharge my batteries while working along on a project. Leo Babauta's essay, "Making Room for Solitude," recommends meditation. I think Susan Cain's (Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking) notion of a "restorative niche" is an even better description of what I get out of my solo projects.
• Tuning In - Another benefit of working alone, especially on something completely different from my intense, always-on work life, is what Scott Belsky calls for in his chapter "Tuning in to You." He calls for disengaging from the constantly connected, over-stimulated lives most of us lead. While Belsky's essay is primarily advocating unstructured, unfocused time, I find that a DIY project -- especially once I get to a stage where there is some mastery of the task and rhythm to the work -- also takes me away from my devices, and gives my mind time to wonder (except when running power tools, of course).
• One final insight from the the book "Doing busywork is easy; doing your best work is hard." It is easy to plop down in front of the TV (meanwhile making regular checks of email and news feeds on your smartphone); it is hard (or at least, more challenging) to texture and paint a wall. Which can you point to with pride a year later?

Makerspace as Part of a Research Commons?

Each year the Electronic Library at Baylor sponsors a round of information sessions based on the EDUCAUSE 7 Things series. Yesterday I participated in a session on "makerspaces," led by David Burns. The discussion led me to thinking (and rambling, I'm afraid) about the possible connection between the makerspace concept and the "research commons" idea that I'm working to define for the Baylor Libraries.
The conversation brought to mind Howard Gardner's theory of Multiple Intelligences (MI). Gardner challenges the unitary intelligence model implied by an I.Q. test or the SAT with at least seven recognizable "intelligences": musical, bodily/kinesthetic, logical-mathematical, linguistic, spatial, interpersonal, intrapersonal.While critics argue that Gardner's theory lacks rigor, and that what he labels "intelligences" might be more accurately described as "abilities," the theory has nevertheless been influential in education circles. For me, in this instance, it provides a way of articulating what struck me during yesterday's presentation.
Many of the examples David shared involved highly tactile activities, with a corresponding bias (in a good way) toward Bodily-Kinesthetic intelligence. There also tended to be many proto-engineers in the spaces, hinting in my mind toward support for Logical-Mathematical and Spatial intelligences. We also observed that the orientation of the workspaces, and one explicit intent of those building the spaces, was to bring people together in collaborations, promoting Interpersonal intelligence.
It is my belief that the academic libraries overarching purpose is to provide those pieces of infrastructure that directly support the academic mission of the institution (teaching, learning, research) and which are better held in common than parceled out to or customized for the various colleges, schools and department. In the past this meant, at a most basic level, buying and storing books and journals. As we seek to redefine our roles in this online/hybrid course, hybrid collection, MOOC-hype, and student-amenities warfare era, we need to step back and reflect on this larger purpose. Where are the gaps in the academic infrastructure of the modern academy? What strengths do we have that align with solutions for these gaps? Where might we have a perspective useful for shaping the future of higher education? What do we lack in our skills and orientation that keep us from filling these gaps successfully?
This brings me back to Gardner, MI, makerspaces, and the research commons. The research commons, at least as I'm thinking about it now, is about shifting our energies from a rather intense focus on the perceived needs of undergraduates (and a bias toward support for active, group learning modalities),  and toward greater attention toward faculty members, graduate students, and undergraduates doing research, with a more nuanced and diverse approach to development of spaces for discovery. Most of my thinking along these lines has been leaning toward spaces for quiet reflection, small group discussion, and serendipitous, interdisciplinary encounters. What I realized yesterday, and as I've tried to unpack my reaction to the makerspace presentation, is that my research commons ideas have been fairly one-dimensional. For all of my excitement about a "revolutionary" space and suite of services, the outline in my head has been rooted in a traditional library orientation toward support for linguistic intelligences, with perhaps a bit of logical-mathematical and interpersonal thrown in.
What if we conceived of a space designed to nurture all of the intelligences, and to bring those with different strengths into contact and collaboration with one another? What if, in addition to a floor plan which moves from quiet on one side to active on the other, we overlay a set of services which intentionally nurture the full set of intelligences in Gardner's MI theory? What if a makerspace (or several such spaces) was part of this research commons?
I see at least three positive outcomes from this model. First, on a practical level, I think this brings interest (and potentially resources) from areas of the university which currently look on us as a pharmacist dispensing annual doses of electronic journals. Second, and more interestingly, the library may be able to make a real (perhaps even measurable) contribution to student retention and completion rates. This space could become a home for those who might be struggling with some of their traditional, linguistic/logical-mathematical courses but who have tremendous gifts in the other intelligences. The buzzword in the area of student retention and completion (OK, those are buzzwords, too) is engagement. The research commons could be the place a differently-gifted student becomes truly engaged in her educational process. Finally, this intentional diversity in purpose, aiming to nurture a range of intelligences, has a greater chance of attracting an intellectually diverse set of students and faculty, and creating the kinds of serendipitous collisions which lead to break-through ideas (more on serendipity, "collisions," and my debt to Steven Johnson in a later post).
It seems I'm rambling again, so I'll stop. I would like to know what you think. What is the potential of the "makerspace" to broaden the reach and relevance of the academic library? Can Gardner's MI theory stimulate our thinking about the diversity of library services we should offer?