Narrative Expansions: Interpreting Decolonisation in Academic Libraries

Abstract

Is it possible to decolonize institutions that are built on colonial principles or created as a direct result of the colonial process? Narrative Expansions: Interpreting Decolonisation in Academic Libraries adds to a growing chorus of voices seeking to address this complex question. Institutions such as the British Library, whose founders built their wealth through the Atlantic slave trade, or American land-grant universities, which owe their existence directly to the dispossession and exploitation of Indigenous people, are inextricably linked to the colonial process. How, then, can librarians and archivists in these spaces pursue a process of decolonization that creates meaningful change and begins to repair the damage of the past?Discussions surrounding decolonization have proliferated in universities in recent years, and editors Jess Crilly and Regina Everitt acknowledge that critics within the movement caution against overusing the term “decolonization” without real commitment to structural change. This book seeks to avoid such pitfalls by critically examining what it means to decolonize libraries and exploring what these efforts look like in different contexts. Narrative Expansions was written between 2020 and 2021, and contemporary events like the COVID-19 pandemic, the murder of George Floyd, and subsequent protests from Black Lives Matter and similar grassroots organizations loom large over almost every chapter, making calls for decolonization feel equally urgent and timely. Crilly and Everitt, both library professionals working in London, reflect on how the decolonization movement in academia has impacted their own approaches to librarianship, and they bring together a broad range of voices to “ask how decolonization is being interpreted—and enacted—in academic libraries” (p. xxv).Narrative Expansions is an edited volume of fifteen essays that is divided into two sections and draws on perspectives of academic librarians from the United Kingdom, Canada, Kenya, South Africa, and the United States. Part 1, “Contexts and Experiences,” offers interviews, personal accounts, and theoretical frameworks that underscore the need for decolonization within academic libraries. This section begins with an interview with Hillary Gyebi-Ababio, vice president for higher education (2020–2022) of the National Union of Students (NUS), which discusses student-led decolonization campaigns within British universities. Subsequent essays analyze how academic libraries continue to perpetuate colonial structures, and many include personal anecdotes from authors who reflect on their own experiences of marginalization as librarians of color working in predominantly white spaces. Part 2, “In Practice,” provides a series of case studies showing how institutions are grappling with uncomfortable histories and taking steps toward decolonization. The second part of the book is the most extensive and provides concrete approaches to addressing the legacy of colonialism across different institutions.Defining just what “decolonization” means is perhaps the biggest challenge of this book, particularly in an international context. Ten of the fifteen essays come from librarians in the United Kingdom, and, consequently, British experiences are most heavily represented. Many aspects of the decolonization movement in the United Kingdom resemble social justice activism and diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in the United States. Student activist campaigns in the United Kingdom, such as “Why Is My Curriculum White?,” “Rhodes Must Fall,” and “Goldsmith Anti-Racist Action,” for example, are reminiscent of American activists' efforts to dismantle white supremacy. Antiracist work is not commonly discussed in a colonial framework in the United States, but understanding how similar movements abroad aim to overturn the legacies of British imperialism should enrich conversations of the topic on this side of the Atlantic. The heavy focus on the United Kingdom does, however, leave little room for interrogations of settler colonialism and how academic libraries in countries like Canada and the United States are addressing the legacies of genocide and Indigenous dispossession.Case studies showing the unique colonial contexts of different countries are the book's greatest strength. An excellent example of these diverse perspectives is Syokau Mutonga and Angela Okune's essay, “Re-membering Kenya: Building Library Infrastructure as Decolonial Practice.” The authors discuss how the Book Bunk Fund, an organization working to restore Nairobi's public libraries, pushed back against Kenyan politicians' desire to “forget and move on” from uncomfortable aspects of the country's history (p. 190). The Book Bunk project employed a broad approach to rebuilding memory in Nairobi's public libraries, from providing access to previously unseen colonial-era collections to partnering with the public to host events that reflect the community's diverse writers and artists.Rachel Chong and Ashley Edwards's essay, “Indigenising Canadian Academic Libraries: Two Librarians' Experience,” likewise demonstrates the utility of examining decolonization from international perspectives. In this case study, Canada's 2015 Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) spurred efforts to incorporate Indigenous knowledge into university libraries across the country. The TRC identified education as a historic means of genocide, citing abuses that Indigenous youth faced under the Canadian Residential School system and calling for schools and libraries to integrate Indigenous knowledge into their curricula. Although Chong and Edwards's efforts to indigenize their university libraries relied on collaboration at the local level, the impetus for this work followed national calls to action.Taken together, the essays in Narrative Expansions suggest that the voices calling for change—whether from grassroots activism, nonprofit organizations, national initiatives, or information professionals themselves—have shaped the ways that decolonial actions have manifested across academic libraries. While each article speaks to colonialism in different contexts, they share many common themes, which at times can be repetitive. Although I found many of these case studies valuable, I frequently hoped authors would delve more deeply into local contexts rather than returning to general discussions about the importance of decolonization.Unfortunately, archival perspectives are largely absent from this book. Discussions around collection development, efforts toward more inclusive metadata, and instruction that encourages students to think critically about sources of information would have been greatly augmented by archival perspectives. The book instead relies exclusively on case studies from librarians working with bibliographic collections or in library outreach and instruction. Consequently, readers looking for examples of how academic libraries have dealt with concerns central to their archives, such as privacy, ethics surrounding digital versus physical access, and complications with legacy description, will be disappointed.Narrative Expansions is ultimately a book for librarians, but it will serve as a useful resource for archivists who want to interrogate their role within the larger academic library. Many of the issues addressed by the authors are relevant to all spaces in the library, such as the need for greater diversity among faculty and staff, and the need to build collections that represent a wider range of perspectives and experiences. None of the case studies presented in Narrative Expansions should be taken as definitive acts of decolonization, and the authors do not insist they are. Rather, they situate these examples as necessary first steps toward building greater equity within academic libraries, an ongoing process that requires both community engagement and self-interrogation.