Knowing Better and Doing Better: Searching for Librarians of Color in PaLA Bulletin (and Beyond)

This week, I lifted a beverage to myself as I cracked open the 1990 volume of PaLA's Bulletin. I was in a celebratory mood because I have been hand-searching the Bulletin, as time permits, for more than 6 months, and the 1990s is the last full decade I need to view for my project. After taking a long sip, I rubbed my eyes and settled in for an hour of skimming and copying.

I was especially hoping to find information about technological developments -- a key theme of the 1990s. About halfway through the volume, though, something very different caught my eye. In the July/August issue, there was an interview with Lydia Scott, an African-American librarian who was the Head of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh's Wylie Avenue branch. Ms. Scott had earned her BA and her MLS from the University of Pittsburgh in the early 1970s, then worked as a children's librarian and storyteller for CLP's Inner City Service, a mobile outreach program that focused on the Hill District. In 1982, she was transferred to Wylie and became its head. Thus, by the time Karl Helicher interviewed her for the Bulletin, she'd been working as a librarian in Pittsburgh for at least 15 years. She had a wealth of knowledge to convey. Although much of the interview focused on practical strategies for working in Black communities, 2 things she said struck me. In describing the importance of self-esteem, she mentioned that "it is extremely important to young people and children to know that great men and women preceded them and overcame obstacles that seemed impossible." Later, in answering a question about successful outreach, she emphasized the importance of *commitment* -- how commitment matters more than budgets or specific tactics. 

Although Scott probably wasn't intending to speak to an academic researcher like me, I took her words as a call to conscience. She reminded me of something I haven't been doing well, that I need to do better: I need to seek out librarians of color and ensure that their stories are included in my work. 

One of the things I am most proud about Made Free, my previous book about the early history of Pennsylvania's libraries, is how I tried to be geographically inclusive. I drove every single mile of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I-80, I-81, I-79, and I-99 in order to visit various regions of the Commonwealth and I conducted research in more than 30 communities. I deliberately went to rural county seats like Gettysburg, Montrose, and Warren, as well as larger cities like Erie, Reading, and Scranton. Another way I tried to make Made Free more inclusive was that I not only utilized libraries' institutional archives, but I also tapped the records of the Pennsylvania Federation of Women's Clubs, the Pennsylvania State Grange, and the Pennsylvania Y.M.C.A. as well other "non-library" entities whose organizational records were available at the Pennsylvania State Archives. In other words, I not only told libraries' stories from the perspective of librarians, but also from the viewpoints of social service organizations and community activists that are often given short-shrift by library historians.

In order to achieve these types of inclusion, though, I made some significant trade-offs. By 2007, when I started the research that ultimately produced Made Free, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh had already been the subjects of various studies. I also knew that those cities are home to robust graduate programs in library science. So I believed they had already been "covered," or would eventually be covered, by other scholars. Thus I relied on published material, dissertations/theses, and the libraries' annual reports rather than doing site visits and consulting primary sources. Also, within the large Pennsylvania cities that I *did* visit, I concentrated on central libraries and I rarely, if ever, used branch records. While shorter visits enabled me to work with more institutions, it skewed my writing away from the vibrant ethnic communities that neighborhood branches serve most closely. My efforts to incorporate non-library organizations into my work was limited in scope as well. I included state-, county-, and local-level women's clubs, farmers' associations, and Y's -- the organizations which had publicly supported library movements in Pennsylvania -- and I assumed they represented "everyone," or "most of everyone." 

A consequence of these choices was that I largely failed to uncover stories about librarians of color; branches and outreach programs serving culturally/racially diverse neighborhoods; or book collections that people established for themselves outside of organizations that were established by (and largely for) white people. Taking Black communities as an example, my work didn't pick up library activity and other booksharing that had been going on in Philadelphia since at least the 1830s -- see the Philadelphia Library Company of Colored Persons, for example -- nor did I amplify the activities of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh's Wylie Avenue Branch, where Lydia Scott and other Black library employees had worked. Wylie's voluminous records are accessible in the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh's institutional archives, and I could have used them if I'd visited the area. 

When I began my current project, which is a kind of sequel to Made Free and focuses on Pennsylvania libraries during the 1940s-2000s, I started with my usual approach -- finding existing books/dissertations/articles and reaching out to public libraries all over the state to locate large collections of primary sources. That remains necessary for the type of "statewide" book I intend to write. But disappointingly, I am finding that material generated by or about Black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American librarians and library users remains elusive.  That's part of the reason why the 1990 interview with Lydia Scott was so special.

Within back issues of PaLA's Bulletin, Black library workers are relatively more visible than Hispanic, Asian, and Native ones. This isn't surprising, because, after people of white European descent, people of African descent comprise the largest number in Pennsylvania's general population, both historically and presently. In PaLA's Bulletin, the most valuable material I have found so far is a small cluster of articles published in the late 1960s. This was a time when Civil Rights Movements were highly visible across the country; librarian/activist E. J. Josey was encouraging Black librarians to make their voices heard within the American Library Association; and both federal grant programs and professional publications were turning the profession's eyes toward more inclusive politics and to underserved constituents. In 1967, Charles R. Peguese, who was then an adult services librarian at the Columbia Avenue branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia, published a Bulletin article that detailed his outreach efforts in the northern part of the city. He emphasized the importance of participating in neighborhood events and offering programs on "non-book" topics such as food stamps and medical assistance. Based on Mr. Peguese's subsequent appearances within the Bulletin, it could be argued that he became one of the most prominent African-Americans in Pennsylvania library circles, as he went on to serve for 14 years within the State Library's Bureau of Library Development.  Due at least in part to this role, and other voluntary positions he pursued at the national level, his name and photo show up in other Bulletin issues.

Charles R. Peguese honored in the September 1988 issue of PaLA Bulletin
for his service at the State Library of Pennsylvania 

Another Black librarian who appears within the Bulletin, especially in conference photos, is Elizabeth E.  McCombs, pictured below. As of September 1971, when a personnel notice about her appeared in the Bulletin, she had recently been appointed to lead Inner City Services for the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh after having served as Head of its Wylie Avenue Branch for a number of years. I haven't encountered any writings of hers in PaLA's Bulletin, but within the May 1969 Bulletin of the Pennsylvania Council of Teachers of English, she published a withering critique of NCTE's bibliographies, which failed to include titles about or relevant to Black children. Bringing passion, statistics, and a plethora of recommended titles to the table, she called on the state and national associations to improve professional tools that they were producing, to be more useful to teachers in contemporary classrooms. Ms. McCombs went on to teach in the library education program at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.  

Kathryn Oller, Elizabeth McCombs, Joseph J. Falgione, and Joan K. Diana at PaLA's 1972 conference. Image courtesy of the PaLA Archives and the State Library of Pennsylvania.

In the late 1960s, at least 2 other Black librarians published substantial articles in the Bulletin. Jessie M. Birtha, a book selection specialist at the Free Library of Philadelphia, wrote a collection development-oriented piece that staunchly criticized Helen Bannerman's Little Black Sambo, Sara Cone Bryant's Epaminondas, and other so-called "classics" that some librarians were still promoting. Ms. Birtha then introduced readers to Augusta Braxton Baker, Charlemae Hill Rollins, and other expert bibliographers/promoters of African American literature. She also explained how to evaluate contemporary works in terms of their approach, writing style, language, characterization, illustrations, and bias. She eventually headed FLP's Nicetown Tioga Library and served on the American Library Association's John Newbery Medal (children's book award) committee. Another Black librarian in Pennsylvania who went on to prominence was Augusta A. Clark, who had been a young adult librarian at the Free Library of Philadelphia. Having recently left the profession, she published an insightful article about how the demeanor of white librarians and their lack of commitment to inner-city constituents was failing Black children. Later known as "Gussie" Clark, she became a pathbreaking city councilor, focused particularly on educational issues.

Jessie Birtha at her 100th birthday celebration.
Photograph by Abdul R. Sulayman, published in the Philadelphia Tribune, February 14, 2020.  

Augusta A. Clark during her years on Philadelphia's City Council.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. 

Even though my research has uncovered some useful publications, I need to do a lot more to identify and include people of color in my work. So far, my best teacher has been my colleague Michele Fenton, who works for Indiana's State Library. I first connected with Ms. Fenton about 15 years ago when I was the editor of the newsletter of ALA's Library History Round Table. and she shared a manuscript she'd written about an African American branch within the Evansville (Indiana) Public Library. Her work pointed out the existence of segregated library services in Midwestern states and the importance of branch libraries in the educational, recreational, and social lives of African Americans. When I read her article back then, I absorbed its content -- the existence of segregated libraries in the North was news to me -- but unfortunately, I didn't think enough about what Ms. Fenton's work could teach me methodologically. Only last year, as I collaborated with her on a bibliography for a forthcoming book, Black Women in Librarianship: Voices from the African Diaspora, did I begin to ponder over our different approaches to finding biographical information. I had offered to tap  databases that she did not have access to at the Indiana State Library, and while my efforts added dozens of items to our list, I saw how Ms. Fenton's approach embodied the self-esteem, personal networking, and commitment that Lydia Scott and other Black librarians in Pennsylvania spoke of. Ms. Fenton's contributions to the bibliography were clearly the result of many years of service to the Black Caucus of ALA, collaborating with and reaching out to colleagues, following up on others' suggestions, starting a blog, Little Known Black Librarian Facts, and generally becoming a hub for information about Black librarians. Through these means, Ms. Fenton uncovered innumerable biographies, narratives, and stories that I would never have found using my typical methods.

For tracking down Black librarians, library employees, and activities, one idea my collaboration with Ms. Fenton gave me is to join, or at least reach out to, organizations for librarians of color. When I was the editor of Libraries: Culture, History, and Society, I became a member of ALA's Black Caucus, REFORMA, APALA, and AILA so that I could share CFPs with other members. I definitely need to tap those groups again when I begin to collect oral histories for my project. Also, I recently found out about the Pennsylvania Black Librarians Caucus; when the time comes, I want to reach out to PBLC and similar associations that focus on other demographics.

Another strategy inspired by Ms. Fenton is to check for news coverage in the Philadelphia Tribune, a Black newspaper I have access to via Penn State's ProQuest subscriptions. A quick search for article titles that include "librarian" or "librarians" turned up 58 items published between 1945 and 2010 that I should definitely sift through. A broader search for those words within full-text generated nearly 2,000 additional leads. Similar strategies for the Pittsburgh Courier, another Black paper available through ProQuest, yielded more 900 articles. I'd like to find out whether there are papers that focus on Pennsylvania's Hispanic, Asian, and Native communities, too. This being said, perhaps there are ways to comb through the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, and other larger-circulation city papers. Perhaps I could look for obituaries that mention both "library" words, as well as the names of particular branches -- like the Cecil B. Moore Library (formerly Columbia Avenue Branch) in North Philadelphia, the Lucian E Blackwell West Philadelphia Regional Library, and the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh - Hill District (formerly Wylie Branch), which have served large Black communities. I could also look for obituaries that mention attendance at historically-black or minority-serving colleges and universities, membership in A.M.E. and other churches, or contributions to civic organizations like the NAACP. Hopefully, I can evolve parallel, thorough strategies for Hispanic, Asian, and Native librarians in Pennsylvania as well.

In the 5 years since I published Made Free, I *know* a bit more about inclusive research methods, but Lydia Scott's words remind me that I need to roll up my sleeves and *do* something. One of my favorite literary quotes, attributed to Maya Angelou, is "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better." I don't have all the answers on how to ensure that my work is culturally and racially inclusive, but I definitely have some starting points. Quick, web-based searches for Ms. Scott didn't uncover an obituary or much other information, so perhaps when I reach the interview stage of my project she'll be the first person I'll try to track down in other ways.

Articles cited:

• "Appointments: Elizabeth McCombs," PLA Bulletin, September 1971, 296,.
• Birtha, Jessie M., "The Portrayal of the Black in Children's Literature," PLA Bulletin, July 1969, 187-197. 
• Clark, Augusta A., "A Black Parent Looks at Service from a Large Urban Library System," PLA Bulletin, November 1969, 321-323.
• "Lydia Scott: Serving the African-American Community," PLA Bulletin, July/August 1990, 6-7.
• McCombs, Elizabeth, "Books to Encompass an Expanding Society, PCTE Bulletin, May 1969, 10-15. ERIC, https://eric.ed.gov/?id=ED041920. 
• Peguese, Charles R., "Public Library Service to the Inner City," PLA Bulletin, November 1967, 115-119.