Associate Librarian Darcy Gervasio
The Creative Act of Research
Our faculty essay for Fall 2024 is by Darcy I. Gervasio, Associate Librarian and Coordinator of Reference Services.
Long before I decided to get a masters in Library & Information Science and become an academic librarian, I was an undergraduate at Oberlin College majoring in French and Creative Writing. I loved libraries and books, particularly fiction, and knew my way around a “five paragraph essay.” I had strong opinions (no surprise if you know me) and wasn’t shy about expressing them in writing, with (obsessively-formatted) citations. However, research was not something I thought about much as a first-year student. I did not see how research fit into my poetry and fiction courses. The first research paper I was assigned that required substantial library research was for a sophomore-level Jewish History course. By this time, I had a work-study job as a circulation assistant at the main library. I looked up some books in the library catalog that seemed vaguely related to my topic and went off to find them. I assumed all “nonfiction” books would be located in the “Reference” section on the first floor, only to find the call numbers skipping up and down the alphabet with huge puzzling gaps. As a student worker, I felt embarrassed and too proud to ask the librarian for help. After putzing around for a while, I sheepishly found a stacks map and eventually located my book on an upper floor in the DS section, along with dozens of books about the history of Jewish women in America. In fact, the whole third floor was “nonfiction.”
For me, learning to love research was a slow burn, and I expect many Purchase students feel the same. Initially, I did not see writing and research as connected. I did not see that my creative writing could be made better through reading nonfiction and immersing myself in scientific evidence, literary theory, and history. I did not see how the process of discovering sources could itself shape my thesis. In high school, I’d been taught research was something you did to “support your argument” or “prove a point.” Writing thus became an exercise in confirmation bias. It was a few years later, while working on my senior thesis on French cinema, that I allowed the sources I found to inform my thinking, rather than the other way around. That was my first time enjoying the “hunt” and using interlibrary loan to track down an article from a French newspaper that (back then) was only available on microfilm. Senior year was also the first time I met with a reference librarian… and wished I’d sought her help navigating JSTOR and library databases years earlier! I learned to love the detective work of the research process as it led me in new, unexpected directions. Holed up in a study carrel at the main library, with books and articles piled on my desk, I collected quotes and theories into a very messy draft, then started typing my notes and reactions. Slowly, magically, as I curated and rearranged the ideas of others on the page, I started rearranging my own thoughts, seeing connections where I hadn’t before, drawing new conclusions. It became easier to organize and structure my writing. It became easier to adopt an academic tone. By immersing myself in the research, I saw a roadmap for writing my thesis. I realized that a research paper is just another form of storytelling.
Now, as a librarian at Purchase College, I am continually advocating for students to see research as a creative act. Finding the right keywords– thinking of all possible ways to describe, reduce, and expand a topic– requires creativity, flexibility, and persistence. Examining a list of results in a library database builds vocabulary, and in so doing, builds thought. Consider for a moment all the micro decision-making that goes into selecting an appropriate source for a research assignment: where to look, what search terms to try, what filters to apply, which results to click on first, which abstracts to read. Then there are the higher-order questions that require more critical thought: Is this truly related to my topic? Is this source trustworthy? Is it a peer-reviewed article? What does this new information tell me that I didn’t already know? How does this source connect to my thesis? How do my sources relate to each other? What story do these books tell, all together, when placed side by side? How does that story change when filtered through my own unique experiences?
My advice to students and faculty is to slow the research process down. Getting started is often the hardest part, particularly for the first-year students I work with in College Writing classes. Like I did, students often have a misconception that they need to have all the answers already or have a fully-formed thesis in order to get started. Research is not meant to tell you something you already know; it’s meant to help discover answers, and not just from published sources and established authors, but through the act of synthesizing your own ideas, which occurs through both deep reading and reflective writing. Just like writing, research requires revision and repetition: redo your search with different terms; try the same keywords in a different database; mine the winding paths of citation and find a nugget that cracks open your ideas and expands your knowledge base. Rinse and repeat. It’s a cyclical process that doesn’t happen just once but is repeated every time you try a new approach, fill in a gap in your argument, or reconsider what you think you know.
Luckily, students are not alone in this process. Librarians are here to guide, encourage, and brainstorm with you. Looking back at my undergrad self, I can’t believe how reticent I was to make use of the experts I worked alongside of. In retrospect, my “library anxiety” seems even sillier to me now, knowing that a common trait among librarians is that we are non-judgmental, overly eager to help, and dogged in our pursuit of information. But my experience does help me understand why many students are reluctant to ask for help.
“Scholarship is a conversation,” as the Association of College and Research Libraries reminds us in one of the foundational documents in academic librarianship.[i] Researchers– whether distinguished professors or first-year undergraduates– are all in conversation with those who have come before, with their contemporaries, within and across disciplines, and with those who will come after. A bibliography is a banquet table. A research assignment is a chance to bring together dishes and blend flavors in creative ways, while adding your own unique spices, traditional recipes from home, and individual interpretations. The best part is, all students are welcome at this table. Let’s start the conversation.
References
[i] Association of College & Research Libraries (ACRL). “Framework for Information Literacy for Higher Education.” ACRL Guidelines, Standards, and Frameworks, 11 Jan. 2016, https://www.ala.org/acrl/standards/ilframework.