How to Become a Librarian: Beyond the Shushing Stereotype
Libraries smell like possibility. That peculiar mix of old paper, binding glue, and the faint electronic hum of computers creates an atmosphere where knowledge feels tangible, almost edible. Yet most people still picture librarians as stern guardians of silence, wielding date stamps like weapons. The reality? Modern librarianship resembles digital archaeology crossed with community activism, with a dash of tech support thrown in for good measure.
I stumbled into this realization during a particularly brutal Chicago winter when I ducked into Harold Washington Library to escape the wind. What I found wasn't just warmth—it was a buzzing hive of activity. Librarians were teaching coding classes, helping entrepreneurs research patents, and yes, even hosting a surprisingly rowdy poetry slam in the basement. That day shifted my entire perception of what libraries could be, and more importantly, what librarians actually do.
The Educational Foundation (Or: Yes, You Need That Master's Degree)
Let's address the elephant in the stacks right away—the MLS or MLIS degree. Master of Library Science, Master of Library and Information Science, call it what you will, but you're going to need one for most professional librarian positions. This isn't just bureaucratic gatekeeping; the degree fundamentally reshapes how you think about information itself.
During my first semester, a professor asked us to organize a collection of random objects—everything from vintage postcards to USB drives. Simple, right? Wrong. By the end of that exercise, we'd grappled with metadata schemas, preservation ethics, and accessibility standards. We'd essentially learned to see the invisible architecture that makes information findable and usable.
The coursework varies wildly between programs, but expect to encounter:
Information organization (way more philosophical than it sounds) Reference services (part detective work, part therapy) Collection development (imagine being a DJ, but for books and databases) Digital librarianship (because someone needs to understand why the e-book system crashed again) Archives and preservation (for those who like their information dusty)
Some programs lean heavily into the tech side—data management, coding, digital humanities. Others focus on public service, youth programming, or academic research support. The University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, for instance, offers a data curation specialization that essentially trains you to be a data whisperer. Meanwhile, San Jose State's program is entirely online and attracts working professionals who bring fascinating perspectives from other careers.
The Undergraduate Prelude
Here's something they don't tell you at career fairs: your undergraduate degree barely matters. I've met librarians who studied everything from marine biology to medieval literature. The diversity actually strengthens the profession—that former marine biologist now runs a spectacular science program for kids, complete with tide pool simulations.
That said, certain backgrounds do provide advantages. English and history majors often excel at research and instruction. Computer science folks become the heroes who actually understand integrated library systems. Education majors transition smoothly into youth services. But I've also seen philosophy majors become brilliant catalogers (all that logic training) and business majors revolutionize library administration.
What matters more than your major is developing what I call "librarian tendencies" during undergrad:
Become disgustingly good at research. Not just Google-fu, but understanding how information ecosystems work. Volunteer at libraries. Shelving books might seem mundane, but you'll absorb the rhythm of library life through osmosis. Take that random database workshop your university library offers. Trust me. Read voraciously and promiscuously. Fiction, nonfiction, graphic novels, zines—librarians need cultural omnivory.
The Hidden Specializations
Public librarianship gets all the glory (or stereotype), but the field branches like a particularly enthusiastic decision tree. Academic librarians essentially become faculty members without the publish-or-perish pressure. They teach information literacy, build subject-specific collections, and occasionally talk panicked graduate students off metaphorical ledges during dissertation crises.
School librarians—excuse me, school library media specialists—juggle teaching, technology, and collection development while somehow making reading cool for skeptical seventh-graders. It's part education, part marketing, part magic. Several states require teaching certification alongside the MLS, which explains why school librarians often seem preternaturally good at classroom management.
Special libraries hide in law firms, hospitals, corporations, and museums. I once met a librarian for a chocolate company. Her job? Managing research on everything from cacao cultivation to flavor chemistry. Another friend catalogs costume collections for a major theater company. These positions often pay better than public or academic roles but require specialized subject knowledge.
Then there's the emerging realm of data librarianship. These folks wrangle datasets like traditional librarians wrangle books, ensuring research data remains findable, accessible, interoperable, and reusable (yes, that spells FAIR—librarians love their acronyms). With the explosion of data-driven research, these positions are multiplying faster than rabbits in spring.
The Unspoken Skills
Beyond the official competencies, successful librarians develop a peculiar skill set. You become a professional question-interpreter, decoding "I need that blue book about the thing" into an actual findable item. You develop what I call "reference radar"—the ability to sense when someone needs help but won't ask.
Technology competence isn't optional anymore. You don't need to code (though it helps), but you should be comfortable troubleshooting why the printer jammed again, explaining database interfaces to frustrated users, and adapting to whatever new system administration decides to implement with two days' notice.
Perhaps most crucially, you need intellectual humility combined with fierce advocacy. Librarians serve everyone—the PhD researcher and the person experiencing homelessness, the kindergartener and the conspiracy theorist. You learn to check your assumptions at the door while still standing firm on principles like intellectual freedom and equitable access.
Breaking In: The Catch-22 of Experience
Here's where things get frustrating. Many entry-level positions want experience, but how do you get experience without a position? This circular logic has tormented new graduates since time immemorial.
Start before graduation. Most MLIS programs offer practicum or internship opportunities—grab them. Even if it's unpaid (problematic, I know), the connections and experience prove invaluable. I spent a semester processing archives for a small historical society. Tedious? Sometimes. But I learned more about metadata standards than any class could teach, and the director later recommended me for my first real position.
Consider paraprofessional work. Library assistant or technician positions don't require the MLS but provide insider knowledge. Yes, it's frustrating to do similar work for less pay, but many libraries promote from within. Plus, some employers offer tuition assistance for the MLS.
Geographic flexibility helps enormously. That perfect position might be in rural Montana or inner-city Detroit rather than trendy Portland or Austin. Early career librarians who embrace adventure often find fascinating opportunities in unexpected places.
The Money Question (Spoiler: We're Not In It for the Money)
Let's be honest about salaries. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the median librarian salary hovers around $61,000. But that number obscures wild variation. Rural public librarians might start at $35,000, while specialized positions in law firms or data management can reach six figures.
Academic positions typically require a second master's degree in a subject area, but they offer faculty status and better benefits. Public libraries vary enormously by region—suburban systems often pay well, while rural libraries struggle with funding. School librarians' salaries usually align with teacher pay scales, meaning strong unions can make a real difference.
The real compensation comes in other forms. Job satisfaction rates among librarians consistently rank high. There's something deeply fulfilling about connecting people with information they need, whether that's helping a small business owner research regulations or finding the perfect picture book for a reluctant reader.
The Cultural Moment
Libraries are having a moment, and it's complicated. As community spaces shrink and social services dwindle, libraries increasingly fill gaps they were never designed to handle. Modern librarians might distribute naloxone, help people apply for unemployment benefits, or provide the only free internet access in town.
This expansion of services creates tension. Some librarians embrace the role of social worker-educator-technologist hybrid. Others argue we're being asked to solve societal problems far beyond our scope and funding. Both perspectives hold truth.
The profession is also grappling with long-overdue reckonings around diversity and inclusion. Librarianship remains overwhelmingly white and female, statistics that don't reflect the communities we serve. Programs like the Spectrum Scholarship Program and residencies for early-career librarians from underrepresented groups aim to shift these demographics, but change comes slowly.
The Daily Reality
What does a librarian actually do all day? Depends on the day, honestly. Monday might involve teaching information literacy to college freshmen who think Wikipedia is a primary source. Tuesday could be storytelling for toddlers, complete with puppet shows and barely controlled chaos. Wednesday might mean wrestling with budget spreadsheets or evaluating database subscriptions.
You'll answer questions ranging from profound ("How do I research my family's immigration history?") to mundane ("Where's the bathroom?") to bizarre ("Do you have books on whether birds are real?"). You'll become an expert at gentle redirection when patrons want to share their entire life story or conspiracy theory.
Technology troubleshooting consumes more time than anyone admits. Why won't this e-book download? How do I print from my phone? Can you help me apply for this job online? The digital divide is real, and librarians often serve as bridges.
The Intangible Rewards
There's a particular joy in successful reference transactions that's hard to explain. When you help someone find exactly what they need—especially when they couldn't articulate what that was—it feels like solving a puzzle where the pieces kept changing shape.
I remember helping an elderly gentleman research his father's World War II service. We spent hours digging through databases, military records, and ship manifests. When we finally found his father's unit history, complete with photographs, he started crying right there in the reference section. Those moments stick with you.
Or consider the teenager who comes in angry and resistant, forced to find sources for a school project. You introduce them to a database of primary sources about their topic—let's say the Harlem Renaissance—and watch their eyes light up as they discover letters, photographs, and recordings they never knew existed. Suddenly, history isn't just dates in a textbook.
The Path Forward
Becoming a librarian in the 2020s means embracing contradiction. You're a guardian of traditional knowledge and a digital pioneer. You serve individual needs while building community. You fight for intellectual freedom while creating safe spaces for vulnerable populations.
The MLS is your entry ticket, but curiosity is your fuel. Read everything. Learn constantly. Develop opinions about cataloging standards and collection development policies. Engage with professional organizations like the American Library Association, but don't be afraid to challenge their positions when necessary.
Most importantly, remember that librarianship is fundamentally about connection—connecting people to information, ideas, and each other. In an era of algorithmic filter bubbles and curated feeds, librarians provide something radical: unbiased access to the full spectrum of human knowledge and culture.
The profession needs people who see libraries not as quiet repositories of books but as dynamic community spaces where democracy happens daily. If that vision excites you—if you believe information access is a human right worth defending—then maybe you're already thinking like a librarian.
Just don't expect to do much shushing. Modern libraries are wonderfully, chaotically alive.
Authoritative Sources:
American Library Association. "Library and Information Studies and Human Resource Utilization Policy." American Library Association, 2021. www.ala.org/educationcareers/employment/recruitment/diversity
Bureau of Labor Statistics, U.S. Department of Labor. "Occupational Outlook Handbook: Librarians and Library Media Specialists." U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2023. www.bls.gov/ooh/education-training-and-library/librarians.htm
Greer, Roger C., et al. Introduction to the Library and Information Professions. 2nd ed., Libraries Unlimited, 2013.
Lankes, R. David. The Atlas of New Librarianship. MIT Press, 2011.
McCook, Kathleen de la Peña. Introduction to Public Librarianship. 3rd ed., ALA Neal-Schuman, 2018.
Rubin, Richard E. Foundations of Library and Information Science. 5th ed., ALA Neal-Schuman, 2020.