In academic libraries, strong leadership is not about shielding employees from challenges or gatekeeping opportunities — it’s about equipping them to meet challenges head-on, grow, and lead in their own right. Yet too often, librarians encounter supervisory mindsets that, even with good intentions, stifle professional development instead of nurturing it.

Academic libraries are often seen as inclusive spaces—committed to access, equity, and lifelong learning. But even in mission-driven environments, bias can quietly shape hiring practices, team dynamics, and advancement opportunities. While we may not be able to change institutional culture overnight, academic librarians in leadership roles can make a powerful difference by intentionally interrupting bias in everyday decisions.

In the world of academic librarianship, visibility is often mistaken for prestige—and prestige, in turn, is confused with legitimacy. For those of us working in small colleges or under-resourced institutions, contributing to the broader professional discourse through writing, presenting, or publishing is sometimes viewed as “punching above our weight.”

Advocacy from supervisors is one of the most valuable currencies in the workplace—especially in academic libraries, where hierarchical structures, tenure processes, and institutional politics can shape the trajectory of a librarian’s career. But what happens when that support isn’t there? Whether it’s intentional or simply a symptom of competing priorities, lack of advocacy can leave you feeling stuck, unseen, and professionally vulnerable.

In every academic library, what we choose to reward—and what we choose to ignore—tells a story. Incentives are not just operational levers; they’re messages. They communicate what is truly valued, often louder than any mission statement or strategic plan. And when incentives contradict stated values, they don’t just send mixed signals—they produce noise.

When morale tanks and teams disengage, leaders often rush to fix the problem by swapping out people—quietly nudging out the “negative ones” or restructuring entire departments. But toxicity doesn’t originate with a few individuals. It spreads when the environment rewards silence, isolates feedback, ignores emotional labor, and favors productivity at any cost.

In academic libraries, we often encourage curiosity in our users—students, faculty, and researchers—but the most transformative environments are built when leaders foster curiosity in themselves and across their teams. As highlighted in the Harvard Business Review article "What Makes an Inclusive Leader?", curiosity is not a “nice-to-have”—it’s a critical capability of inclusive leadership.

You’ve been in the meetings. You’ve seen the whiteboards, the slide decks, the draft org charts. You’ve participated in committee discussions, advocated for clearer alignment, and supported the idea that structure should reflect strategy.

In academic librarianship, we talk a lot about technology, access, and outcomes—but not enough about the health of the relationships that make those things possible. When a vendor relationship begins to falter, it often doesn’t happen all at once. The silence creeps in. A response takes a little longer. Updates stop coming. Negotiations stall. Eventually, what once felt like a partnership begins to feel transactional—something to chase rather than build.

In times of transformation, academic library leaders are asked to be both builders and bridge-makers—carefully managing details while cultivating trust, shared purpose, and community. Drawing on Albert O. Hirschman's distinction between skill and charisma, we can better understand what inclusive leadership demands of us—and how DEI-centered programming can serve as a proving ground for both.

Gossip has a bad reputation—and often for good reason. In academic libraries, as in any workplace, gossip can fracture teams, erode trust, and perpetuate bias. As we explored in our earlier blog post, Gossip in Organizations: How Bad Is It?, informal communication isn’t inherently negative—it becomes harmful when driven by exclusion, power struggles, or poor communication structures. And as Fear as a Powerful Motivator for Gossip in Academic Libraries: Insights from Corey Robin points out, gossip often thrives where fear silences more direct conversations. But that’s not the whole story.

Academic libraries are no strangers to disruption. We’ve been navigating technological change, constrained budgets, and shifting institutional priorities for decades. But the rise of artificial intelligence—particularly generative AI—calls for a different kind of leadership: one that is innovative, inclusive, and scalable.

Check out Trevor A. Dawes and Russell Michalak's Toxic Dynamics podcast with Michael LaMagna and Erica Swenson Danowitz, Ed.D.

There’s a unique frustration many academic library leaders know too well: you advocate for your department—student workers, temporary staff, frontline librarians—and the reply you get from senior leadership is a flat, dismissive, “Sorry to hear that.”

Check out Trevor A. Dawes, and Russell Michalak's Toxic Dynamics podcast with Jennifer Gunter King.

Change doesn’t happen by sitting at your desk. It happens in conversation. In discomfort. In collaboration.

Recent executive actions from the White House have sparked serious concerns about the integrity of American historical education. The Executive Action, “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” raises alarming questions about whose truth is being centered and whose continues to be marginalized.

In the world of academic libraries, communication is everything. As library professionals, we write countless emails—whether responding to faculty requests, guiding students through research, or collaborating with colleagues on initiatives. Every word we choose shapes perceptions, even down to how we sign off.

In today’s rapidly shifting higher education landscape, libraries play a crucial role in fostering student success through inclusive and accessible design. While institutions may navigate changing policies around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI), the commitment to ensuring equitable access to information and resources remains foundational to librarianship.

Universities have long been revered as bastions of intellectual exploration—spaces where minds encounter unfamiliar ideas, assumptions are challenged, and perspectives broaden through spirited debate. Yet in recent years, many have observed a troubling shift away from this ideal. The marketplace of ideas seems increasingly segmented into ideological enclaves where confirmation bias reigns and viewpoint diversity withers. This transformation raises critical questions about the future of higher education and its role in nurturing engaged citizens capable of navigating a complex, pluralistic society.

Trevor A. Dawes and Russell "Rusty" Michalak recently interviewed Amanda Koziura and Stephanie Becker. To listen to the podcast please click play below. 

You tell yourself you can handle it. That if you just keep your head down, do your work, and stay professional, the tension will pass. But it doesn’t. Every day in your toxic academic library feels like a slow burn—emails laced with condescension, meetings where you’re ignored or undermined, the constant weight of working in a system that devalues you.

The recent wave of terminations within the federal workforce has sent shockwaves through countless households across the nation. Employees, many with years of dedicated service, have been dismissed abruptly—without cause, without notice, and without the due process traditionally afforded to civil servants. This isn't a debate about the necessity of organizational efficiency or the merits of a lean government structure; rather, it's a profound concern about the erosion of fundamental procedural safeguards and the devastating personal toll on those affected.

Leadership in academic libraries is evolving. Traditional top-down models are giving way to more inclusive, problem-led approaches that emphasize collaboration, adaptability, and shared expertise. This shift aligns with the needs of today’s academic librarians, who must navigate complex institutional structures, advocate for resources, and innovate in response to emerging challenges.

The question of whether libraries can effectively teach AI literacy and ethics, despite internal organizational challenges, reflects a broader misunderstanding of the distinction between institutional culture and professional expertise. While some libraries—like many organizations—grapple with workplace dynamics that can be less than ideal, this does not diminish the knowledge, dedication, and ethical commitment of library professionals. In fact, it is precisely in these challenging environments that AI literacy and ethics become even more crucial.

The recent rollback of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs in higher education, as detailed by The Chronicle of Higher Education (link), has left many librarians and educators grappling with how to continue this vital work. As Ruha Benjamin reminds us in Viral Justice, progress is often found in small, intentional acts that ripple outward, shaping a more just and equitable world. Even without formal DEI programs, academic libraries can serve as catalysts for change by embracing incremental, sustainable actions that uphold diversity, equity, and inclusion.

In the words of Peter Drucker, "Culture eats strategy for breakfast." This succinct yet profound observation highlights a truth that is often overlooked: no matter how well-designed your strategy is, it will falter in the face of a toxic or misaligned organizational culture. Strategy provides the roadmap to success, but culture propels the organization forward. Without a healthy culture, employees are unlikely to feel connected to the mission and vision, and the organization’s potential will remain unrealized. 

In academic librarianship, we wear many hats—leaders, collaborators, advocates, and sometimes mediators. How we navigate these roles often determines our success and the success of our libraries. But the question remains: how do we balance strength and warmth? How do we advocate for ourselves, our teams, and our libraries without alienating those we need to influence?

Academic libraries have always been at the forefront of addressing the inequities that exist within education. For me, this responsibility became personal when a student told me they were skipping meals to afford textbooks. Over the years, I’d heard similar stories from others—students sharing books, delaying purchases, or going without altogether. These choices weren’t just inconveniences; they were barriers to success.

Picture this: It’s a Tuesday morning, and your inbox is already overflowing. A faculty member has emailed to express frustration over the availability of library resources, a student has asked for last-minute research help, and a partner organization is waiting for a project update. Each of these interactions demands not just a response but thoughtful communication. But how do you manage this when your day is already packed? Enter AI, not as a replacement for your expertise, but as a partner in helping you communicate more intentionally.

For many professionals, holiday parties are an opportunity to celebrate the season, connect with colleagues, and reflect on the year. But in some workplaces—especially those with toxic dynamics—these gatherings can feel more like a chore than a celebration. This is particularly true in environments where the workplace culture leans heavily on the narrative of being a “family.”

Trust is a cornerstone of effective collaboration, particularly in academic libraries where relationships underpin the institution’s ability to support teaching, learning, and research. Walter Gmelch, a renowned scholar on academic leadership, emphasizes that trust is not merely an abstract ideal—it’s an essential component of relational leadership and organizational success. Christopher Cox, in Compassionate Leadership: An Essential Approach Post-COVID, highlights how balancing empathy with accountability strengthens relationships and creates resilient workplace cultures. Together, these perspectives offer valuable guidance for navigating trust challenges.

When I first became director of the library, I quickly learned that managing a team with diverse needs and schedules was no small feat. Communication was everything—especially with our team of student workers, paraprofessionals, and professional librarians on varying contracts. I assumed that more information was better, so I packed every email and memo with detail, thinking it would empower the team. Instead, I was met with questions that reflected confusion, not clarity. Some staff felt overwhelmed; others weren’t sure what applied to them specifically.

Academic libraries are unique spaces—centers of learning that prioritize steady, thoughtful support for students and faculty. While the work may not always be fast-paced, it’s certainly purposeful, with staff investing time and care to ensure resources are accessible, knowledge is shared, and community needs are met. However, in environments where the spotlight is often on users, the contributions of library staff can sometimes go unrecognized. Building a culture of appreciation, where team members feel valued for their work, is essential to creating a positive and inclusive library environment.

Many universities and colleges across the United States are facing budget challenges. In times of financial strain, leaders are faced with tough decisions. Unfortunately, some managers exploit budget crises to eliminate or demote employees they don’t prefer working with, using financial challenges as a convenient cover. This behavior, while perhaps disguised as “cost-saving” or “streamlining,” is unscrupulous and unprofessional, damaging morale, creating resentment, and ultimately hurting the organization.

Leaders who practice favoritism in the workplace have no chance to build a culture of trust.” – Robert Whipple

As academic librarians, we wear many hats—mentors, researchers, resource managers, and advocates for student success. But what happens when we start questioning whether our current role or institution is still the right fit? It’s a tough decision, one that requires not only personal reflection but also a careful evaluation of the support our institution provides.

It is not uncommon for us to bemoan the curious phenomenon known as "failing up." This term describes a situation in which individuals, despite being unsuccessful or ineffective in their current roles, continue to receive promotions and are entrusted with increasing levels of responsibility. It’s disconcerting but not uncommon, and it can have profound consequences for the organizations these individuals lead.

As a new manager, you’re stepping into a leadership role where you not only oversee your team’s work but also ensure that each member feels valued and supported. It’s essential to recognize when an employee may be underperforming because they feel undervalued. Drawing on ideas from Viral Justice by Ruha Benjamin, which emphasizes how small, often-overlooked actions contribute to systemic change, this post offers guidance on identifying when a team member feels undervalued—and, more importantly, what you can do about it to foster a more inclusive and engaged environment.

As academic librarians, we often find ourselves in roles that are critical to our institutions but not always fully recognized. Drawing on the ideas from Viral Justice by Ruha Benjamin, which emphasizes how hidden, often-overlooked actions contribute to systemic change, this post explores how to identify when you're being undervalued—and, crucially, what you can do about it.

In a recent post we discussed trust and honesty and the impact a lack of these characteristics can have in an organization. When a leader does not embody and demonstrate these characteristics, one result can be the dissemination of information through gossip. Gossip is often seen as a negative behavior in organizations, yet it persists across industries and workplaces. While many may dismiss it as merely idle chatter, gossip can serve as both a source of valuable information (especially in the absence of honest, official communication) and a harmful force that undermines a positive organizational culture. Leaders must, therefore, be able to understand and manage gossip carefully. 

In At the Existentialist Café, Sarah Bakewell highlights Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialist challenge: the idea that every situation should be viewed from the perspective of those who are most oppressed. This concept was revolutionary—it called for not just empathy but radical action, urging us to understand power and suffering from the vantage point of those at the margins. Sartre’s existentialism doesn’t merely theorize about oppression; it demands a shift in how we address systemic injustice, calling for a transformative perspective that echoes loudly today in Ruha Benjamin’s Viral Justice and within the context of academic libraries’ toxic cultures, as explored by Michalak, Dawes, and Cawthorne in Toxic Dynamics.

Workplace misunderstandings are common, and they can range from simple miscommunications to deep-rooted issues affecting team dynamics and productivity. One often overlooked but highly effective solution to these misunderstandings is the implementation of accommodations. Accommodations—whether related to accessibility, work preferences, or communication styles—can pave the way for a more inclusive and harmonious work environment. If we embrace the idea that small adjustments can resolve significant challenges, accommodations could be the key to bridging many of the gaps that cause friction in the workplace.

In academic libraries, gossip isn’t just harmless chatter—it often stems from deeper fears like job insecurity, professional judgment, and organizational change, creating a toxic work environment. Fear, left unaddressed, becomes a powerful motivator for gossip, as employees attempt to cope with their anxieties.

In academic libraries, much of the critical work happens behind the scenes. While librarians engage in highly visible activities like teaching, reference services, and public-facing events, a significant portion of their labor remains invisible. This hidden labor—essential for maintaining library services, digital collections, and academic resources—often goes unrecognized, leading to underappreciation and burnout among library staff.

It seems fitting to write a post about trust and honesty in leadership, especially as we are in the midst of the election cycle in the U.S., and we are bombarded with commercials and other material about the candidates for office in each state and nationally. In libraries and academic institutions, among the things we do is try to help our community members combat mis- and disinformation.  In doing so, we hope to help them understand who is - or who is not telling the truth and who can be trusted. Trust and honesty, of course, apply not only to our elected officials; it applies to us all and certainly to those who are in leadership positions. These characteristics are the cornerstones of any successful leadership. When leaders embody these qualities, they create a culture of openness, transparency, and mutual respect. Without them, an organization will likely falter as employees become disillusioned, disengaged, and distrustful of its mission. 

In many academic libraries and higher education institutions, colleagues are often referred to as “family” in an effort to foster a sense of belonging and support. On the surface, this language may seem well-intentioned, offering comfort in environments that value collaboration and community. However, framing the workplace as a family can have unintended negative consequences, particularly when it comes to trauma and the emotional impact it can have on employees.