Can a Name Spin Straw into Gold?

Names become identities and often reflect an association that others attach to the status of a position. Job titles also convey an image, one that accords a particular standing, a degree of respect, and a perception of worth. As times and perceptions change, so do job titles. Think about these examples. Janitors evolved into custodians, then maintenance men, and currently are called facilities managers. Stewardesses turned into flight attendants. School librarians became library media specialists. A reference service librarian can now be an information engineer. Go one step further, and a general librarian can now be a Knowledge Management Specialist and good old-fashioned libraries can become Knowledge Management Centers.

Intrigued with such title changes, I searched for other new techno-polished librarian labels and found: information architect; chief intelligence officer (head of a library); change manager; information broker; and advocate for youth library services.

What do these name and title changes signify? Do they communicate to others the importance of our jobs, the relevance and value of our work, our level of professional training, or our status in the community we serve? Do we gain any of those things when technological advances have transmogrified our identities? Do they influence the perception of our work in positive ways?

A traditional job description for someone who works with children in the library calls that specialist a children's librarian. Simple, direct, and clearly defining the responsibilities, but does it convey status? Perhaps we need to get with the times and become CHIMEs--Children's Information Management Specialists, or TIMEs for Teen Librarians. Would it say anything better about us, would it put more spit and polish on our image? Did changing school librarians to school library media specialists increase either their level of respect or their salaries?

In mythology, knowing the names of things gives one power. In the current dot-com climate, we need to square our shoulders and project the image that represents the import of what we do--with clarity, vigor, and pride. What is in a name? Which characters are we, those of us who serve children and young adults--the nameless miller's daughter or Rumpelstiltskin?