Introduction

Not long into my co-op as a student librarian at the University of Victoria's McPherson Library, the "Reference" sign above the reference desk mutated into "Library Help." Ack! Wait a minute here! Library Help? I am not a helper. I provide reference. If people don't know what that means or aren't willing to find out, they don't belong in university.

...Or so sounded the alarmist in me. Reference is the art and science of exploding open information, demystifying research, wrestling search results into the ground and relaying all sorts of fantastic things that people had no idea they wanted and needed to know. Library Help is... Where's the washroom. Can I borrow a pen. The printer's jammed.

I realize, however, that I answer those questions anyway. Furthermore, if us librarians and librarians-to-be sitting beneath a sign that reads "Reference" means nothing to students—or worse, intimidates and discourages them—they will be even more likely to avoid us with real research questions, to confuse approaching us with interrupting us, and conclude that asking for "help" instead of "reference," whatever-that-is, constitutes a nuisance and stupidity.

This co-op focused on information literacy and, as I perceived it, how it relates to language and meaning: from the sign above the desk to the painstaking word choices I made developing content for new web pages. As I explored how best to improve student information literacy, I learned how to become a more effective communicator myself, both online and in person.