Tom Roper's Weblog

Ten years in Sussex

It's probably of little interest to anyone but me but ten years ago yesterday, after a working life spent entirely in London, I travelled by train, in spite of flooding outside Lewes, to arrive at the University of Sussex bright and early to take up a post as Information Resources Development Co-ordinator at Brighton and Sussex Medical School. The medical school was to receive its first intake of undergradates that September. I had nine months, therefore, more or less the length of a normal human pregnancy, to set up services for them.

Ten years later, I'm still working in Sussex, and have lived here since March 2004. I am older, greyer, slower. I sometimes miss the business of London, but rural idiocy has its compensations.

Tinker, tailor, soldier, Riding Holiday Centre Manager

Did you play this game with prune stones at the end of school lunch, once you had freed the prunes from lumpy school custard, served in grooved proto-Tupperware jugs? Being a librarian excites me and interests me, as it always has, but I must face the humbling truth that I am not very good at it; or, more exactly, I cannot convince any potential employer that I'm any good at it. Therefore I found myself at the Next Step skills health check, looking for alternative careers.

I must explain at this point that, whatever career I thought I might be cut out for, running pony treks was not one of them. I toyed as a boy with priest and soldier; I did fancy myself as a don, allowed to walk across the grass of Cambridge colleges, but that's what being brought up in that city does to you.

The hereditary principle is a fine thing, if you want to be governed by half-witted haemophiliacs, but less useful for careers guidance. I never yielded to its pressures and turn to doctoring; though my father, and many generations before him, were Cambridge physicians, and, being adopted, I also discovered that my natural father was a doctor, and quite a distinguished one too, I could not believe I'd have been any good. I suppose I would not have killed many patients on purpose; perhaps that is what 'to do no harm' means, and not every doctor can make that claim.

Careers advice at school was dispensed by a chemistry master. He had a reputation for recommending metallurgy to everyone, regardless of their talents or natural bent, but he never recommended it to me.

So what did the Next Step site tell me? After some tests, it proclaimed me to be suited for the following:

• Practice Nurse: why?
• Fitness Instructor: come off it. For all my running, the last thing I can do is to yell bossy instructions at anyone else.
• Personal Trainer: see above
• Lifeguard: you jest
• Riding Holiday Leader: again, the equestrian theme. I've been on top of horses, and even stayed in the saddle for a few minutes, but I would not claim any skills or knowledge.
• Catering or Restaurant Manager: now, would you eat at a restaurant I managed?
• Food Scientist-Food Technologist: think first, what is my attitude to the sell-by dates of food in the fridge?
• Consumer Scientist: I have no idea what this means
• Kitchen Assistant: come, come, what would Elizabeth David say?
• Waiting Staff: no, I could not bring myself to grimace at a table and ask, 'is everything all right for you?'
• Baker: perhaps, if I could make pies in the tradition of Mrs Lovett
• Set Designer: have you ever seen me try to make anything?
• Photographic Stylist: I refer you to my Flickr photos
• Prop Maker: as above, absence of any DIY skills rules me out
• Computer Games Tester: I despise computer games. I know this is remiss of me, but I don't care
• Web Content Manager: yes, I've been doing this for years, but you try convincing the half-wits who recruit to these sorts of posts that a librarian could be any use
• Pop Musician: at last, a sensible suggestion
• NVQ Assessor: oh the irony. I was trying to recruit one of these in my last but one job
• Art Gallery Curator: well, yes, but since one of my oldest and dearest friends, a curator, has just been sacked by an organisation that thinks, as do they all in Cameron and Clegg's Britain, that public museums are unnecessary, it seems unlikely I could do anything useful here
• Education Welfare Officer: why?
• School Matron: er...
• Community Education Co-ordinator: yawn
• Training Manager: God!

Therefore, unless the position of salaried public intellectual comes up soon, I think I shall have to see what price my scrawny bottom will fetch in the public lavatories of Seaford.

For a less jaundiced view, careers being a hot topic on librarian blogs at the moment, see in particular these posts from Alice in Libraryland and the Wikiman

September's job-search: candidate feedback in mime

Times are hard. There's so few jobs being advertised, CILIP have cut back on number of issues of the Gazette that will be published for the rest of the year, citing 'significantly reduced levels of recruitment advertising'. I have had nothing from any of the agencies I am registered with.

Just as I did at the end of August, I summarise below my job searching activity for the past month. I have had two interviews, and, though I have not yet had an offer, there seems to be the likelihood of employment. In September I applied for jobs in the following sectors: Higher education: 2 Private sector: 1 Health: 2 Many applications simply disappear into short-listing panels' waste paper bins. If I don't receive feedback on why I haven't been short-listed, I always ask for it, but few employers can be bothered. Here are a few replies: 'Many thanks for your email, I can confirm we received your application for the above role and that you were not shortlisted on this occasion. I am sorry to say we don’t have capacity to provide individual feedback at shortlist stage. I can advise that we did have a big response to the advert for this vacancy and it was a strong competition.' 'I am afraid that you were not short listed on this occasion. I am afraid I cannot give you individual feedback on the reason for this other than to say that we had a very high number of applications and a very high number of these applications were excellent. However the short listing panel had to make a decision on interviewing those who met the spec the most closely. They commented to me that this was very difficult due to the high calibre of almost all of the applicants [I like the use of almost here-TR]. I am sorry I do not have better news and I thank you for your interest in [name redacted]' 'As I am sure you will understand, we cannot undertake to give detailed feedback to candidates since we simply do not have the resources to provide such a detailed and individual service for the large number of candidates who both apply and are interviewed for our positions each year. Prior to commencing recruitment for any post, we establish a very clear and precise person specification and list of competencies for the role and these were used by the selection committee to match the skills, experience, abilities and aspirations of the candidates to the job requirements. The final decision in relation to appointing to this post was taken after full consideration of all of these areas and on this occasion there were other candidates who more closely met the outlined specifications. I am sorry that you were disappointed on this occasion.' I have saved the best for last. '[Name redacted] has a policy not to provide feedback other than verbally [and how would they provide non-verbal feedback, I wonder? Mime? A pencil sketch? This was from an educational institution-TR] when contacting unsuccessful candidates who have attended for shortlist interview. Our application form clearly states: [Name redacted] will not enter into discussion or correspondence with unsuccessful applicants about their candidacies.'

Gulls, cony-catchers and cozeners

I came out of a job interview and, in need of the juice of the roasted beans of plants of the genus Coffea, walked down one of those wide streets on the borders of the City. I should have known that this was a louche area. A drunk man in a high-visibility jacket was shouting at passers-by, but I skilfully avoided him. A little way onwards, an elderly, toothless and unshaven man accosted me. The following words were exchanged.

'Hi, how are you it must be twenty years, don't say you don't remember me?", thus spoke ETUMan
' Um, sorry', I replied
' Come on, man, it was the eighties, it's Ali, you know me. I said to myself, if he doesn't remember me, I'll kill him'
I racked my brain. 'Were you a friend of L's?', I asked, naming the only person I could remember who had a friend who could possibly have been the degenerate in front of me.
'Of course, are you still in touch with her? Give me your phone number.' And at this he produced a pen and a bundle of filthy William Hill betting slips from his pocket. 'Give me your number, so I can get in touch, and you can tell me hers'. I was in a panic; clearly I had to write something down, but who was he? I still didn't remember him, and he had not, I realised, used my name at all in the conversation. Fortunately the pen, also the property of Messrs Hill, failed to work.
'So what are you doing, man?' By now, I was suspicious, but I saw no reason why I should not vouchsafe my employment status.
'I'm unemployed, I've just been for an interview.'
He melted away; clearly there were no pickings for him here.

I have a poor track record with con-artists. I once gave a man who accosted me in Westminster £40 to get back to Truro, which he promised faithfully to send to me, but never did.

I must record that when I found coffee, it was at the most extraordinary place, Look Mum No Hands, a café cum cycle workshop cum shrine to the muse of cycling.

August's job search

There are some moments from my childhood when I wished that time could be stopped; I wished the same yesterday, for the August bank holiday, Indian summers notwithstanding, represents the end of summer. From now on there is nothing but increasing darkness and cold.

It being the end of the month, it is a good moment to summarise the job search for August. I have applied for eight jobs. I don't count here applications in preparation with a deadline in September. I have had no interviews and one rejection, on the grounds that my experience in the area was 'not recent enough'. What can I say? I've lived too long, evidently. These jobs, broken down by sector are:

• Learned societies: 2
• Overseas: 2
• Universities: 2
• Media: 1
• Schools: 1

'So you want to be a librarian?'

Thus I was greeted at the Job Centre this morning by the officer who was supposed to help me with my job search. 'I am a librarian", I replied, I hope courteously.

For all that the place is stocked with IKEA-y furniture, the grilles have gone, the staff call each other, and the unemployed, by their first names and smoking is forbidden, I do not believe that the attitudes have changed much since the dismal unemployment office I used to attend in Cambridge in the mid-1970s, in ramshackle huts off Brooklands Avenue. I tried to ask the officer who interviewed me for advice on my cv, on overcoming age discrimination, on the possibilities of late entry into the civil service, but it was plain she was going through the motions.

I had a virtual bet with @SmilyLibrarian; I wagered an imaginary £5 I could make the Job Centre officer smile. I lost.

On a positive note, I don't really expect the Job Centre to be the source of anything worth applying for. But I do have hopes for recruitment by blog and tweet. So if you're reading this and could use a highly experienced and versatile information professional, with a flair for using social media and innovation, here's my cv. Do get in touch.

My dream job

I have found my niche at last . University College London are looking for a Deputy Zebrafish Facility Manager. How difficult can this be? A few handfuls of ant eggs every so often, and a careful eye on the water temperature are all that's required. For the rest if the time, I'd work on my novel, you know, the one that's going to change the way the world looks at fictional narrative.

Not that I'd neglect my charges. I'd give them all names beginning with Z : Zachary, Zedekia, Zelda, Zenobia, Zeus, Zöe, Zuleika. I'd play fishy games with them to keep them amused. I might even bring my cat Eustace to visit.

Pond Habitat Action Plan Coordinator

The ways of online job-alerting services are strange and unfathomable, but, though I suppose I must have given them some encouragement, I really cannot understand why the Guardian should think I am interested in a post as Pond Habitat Action Plan Coordinator. It is true that, as a very small child, I fell into our garden pond to join the newts and sticklebacks, but I keep quiet about that in my cv, and the only witness was my mother, now dead.

Facial jewellery

I forgot to mention that I now have a handbook from the agency employing me which enjoins me to keep facial jewellery to a minimum. I certainly shall, unlike those at the Modified Librarian, sadly not updated since 1999.

piercings

Job, patience of

I have a job, Interim Head of Learning Resources at South Thames College. So it is time to analyse my job search.

• I applied for nineteen jobs. I was shortlisted for four.
• The average salary of posts I applied for was £33,000.
• Eight posts were fixed-term contracts, of lengths varying form three months to two years.
• All but one were based in London
• By sector, I applied for six jobs in higher education, three at the British Library, two in government, two in further education and others in learned societies, local government, the private sector, a professional body, a special library and a trade union. In the past three years I have applied for seven BL jobs and have never been short-listed. Is this a record.
• Subjects inlcuded regional studies, medicine, fashion, art history, history, local government, scientnce technology and medicine (STM), music and animal health.
• All but three were library-based
• Four came from agencies, two each from Sue Hill and TFPL, with TFPL sending me for the South Thames job. I am sorry to say that CILIP's own Infomatch sent me precisely nothing.