LHRT (Library History Round Table)

Open Letter to the Editors of Libraries:  Culture, History, and Society:

The latest issue of LCHS just crossed my desk, and in it I read the following partial sentence on page v: "Recognizing that stories belong to the groups that experience them and not to non-group members…"  I have absolutely no quarrel with (and fully encourage) members of particular library "groups" to share the stories they have experienced.  But to characterize non-members as somehow not "belonging" to these stories runs counter to many of my own experiences as a library historian.  Please let me detail examples from my own career.

 As editor of the Beta Phu Mu Monographs series in the 1990s, I approached Jim Carmichael about putting together a series of essays on LGBTQ+ experiences in librarianship.  The result was:  Carmichael, James V. (ed.).  Daring to Find Our Names:  The Search for Lesbigay Library History (1995), the first effort of its kind.  I take no credit for the book's content (Jim did a helluva job putting this together), but as a non-member of this particular "group" I do take credit for initiating the effort and seeing it through to publication.

Following the publication of The Desegregation of Public Libraries in the Jim Crow South:  Civil Rights and Local Activism (2018) that I wrote with my wife Shirl, I embarked on a 26-city book tour.  At many of those stops we had panels in which the Black teenagers who integrated public libraries in the 1960s told their stories to local audiences who had very little idea what these kids had accomplished decades earlier.  These included five presentations with Tougaloo Nine members Geraldine Edwards, Ethel Sawyer, and Albert Lassiter.  Three other presentations included Ibrahim Mumin, who as 15-year-old Charlie Porter desegregated the Columbus (GA) public library in 1963 with other teenagers.  At each of these venues they were able to tell their stories.  In particular I remember Ibrahim at our Columbus presentation in 2019, at which he told his story to 125 mesmerized (mostly Black) Columbus High School students.  It was an amazing moment.   Again, I do not take credit for their stories, but I do take credit for the research that helped craft a series of venues in which they could tell them.

Finally, as a "non-group member" I also take issue with your premise.  My latest book, In Silence or Indifference:  Racism and Jim Crow Segregated Public School Libraries (2024) is groundbreaking (albeit a book largely ignored by the library profession, including, I believe, LCHS).  It's the first publication that reveals the library profession said and did nothing about racially segregated Jim Crow public school libraries between 1954 (Brown) and 1974.  In it I detail the heretofore untold stories of Autherine Lucy Foster, Ernestine Denham Talbert, and Carrie Coleman Robinson--among many others.  (See also: "Race and School Librarianship in the Jim Crow South, 1954-1970:  The Untold Story of Carrie Coleman Robinson as a Case Study," Library Quarterly, 91 [July, 2021]: 254-268; and "Autherine Lucy Foster:  Yet Another Hidden Figure in American Library History," Library Quarterly, 95 [January 2025]: 79-96.)  Quite frankly, without my research these stories of Black female librarians would still be untold. 

Much more important to me than the question of whether group members or non-group members are properly positioned to tell stories is the issue of rigorous historical research.  While researching In Silence or Indifference I went through the E.J. Josey Papers, the D. Eric Moore Papers, the Annettee H. Phinazee Papers, and the ALA Black Caucus Papers, all gathered into a large closet just across from the Office of the Dean of North Carolina Central University's School of Library and Information Studies. At the time I thought to myself: "Wow, this is a heretofore unknown treasure-trove of materials reflecting on the Black experience in 20^th century librarianship." Many of those materials have been sitting at NCCU for more than half-a-century.  I don't pretend to have seen everything published in American library history in the last 20 years, but I have yet to see a citation to any of these collections in the literature I have read.

So, yes, do publish stories.  But unless LCHS editors and their reviewers also insist that authors of manuscript submissions had researched all relevant manuscript collections, unless they welcome submissions from story-telling "non-group" members like me, I don't see much chance that the quality of the scholarship the journal publishes will improve much.

Wayne A. Wiegand

F. William Summers Professor Emeritus of Library & Information Studies

Florida State University

wwiegandfsu@gmail.com

Dear Dr. Wiegand,

The Co-Editors of Libraries: Culture, History, and Society (LCHS) regret not having had the opportunity to engage with you directly about your criticism of our journal. We do feel the need to address publicly the false dichotomy you establish in your open letter between historical researchers and community members. Our position has never negated the work of historical researchers like you. However, we strive to make room for voices that belong to the communities in question; these voices have previously not been prioritized for various reasons, such as racism, lack of access, suppression, colonialism, and the like. So, while your work is certainly recognized, it is not the only, centered, work in this genre. Community members can indeed write about themselves, applying their own lenses and experience, instead of deferring to white researchers as the sole arbiters of their stories. They can also do so with academic rigor. As a scholarly journal, we apply double-blind peer review and revision to all manuscripts that are submitted to the journal.

For those in this forum who have not read our position firsthand, we encourage everyone to write about library history, but we ask that room and priority be given to community members as first authors, co-authors, and significant contributors to the research and writing processes. In doing so, we are mobilizing the LCHS DEI Statement and Action Plan (https://scholarlypublishingcollective.org/psup/libraries/article/6/1/v/299076/LCHS-DEI-Statement-and-Action-Plan) that originated under our founding Co-Editors. We welcome your submissions!

Regarding the question of a book review for your latest title, a review is indeed underway, and we hope to publish it soon. However, as it seems you think so little of LCHS, we understand if you would like to *not* have your work reviewed by our journal. We, of course, cannot speak to other publications and the field.

Sincerely,

Nicole A. Cooke, PhD, MEd, MLS 
Augusta Baker Endowed Chair and Professor
School of Information Science, University of South Carolina

Carol A. Leibiger, PhD, MA, MSLIS

Professor Emerita

University Libraries, University of South Dakota

Open Letter to the Editors of Libraries:  Culture, History, and Society:

The latest issue of LCHS just crossed my desk, and in it I read the following partial sentence on page v: "Recognizing that stories belong to the groups that experience them and not to non-group members…"  I have absolutely no quarrel with (and fully encourage) members of particular library "groups" to share the stories they have experienced.  But to characterize non-members as somehow not "belonging" to these stories runs counter to many of my own experiences as a library historian.  Please let me detail examples from my own career.

 As editor of the Beta Phu Mu Monographs series in the 1990s, I approached Jim Carmichael about putting together a series of essays on LGBTQ+ experiences in librarianship.  The result was:  Carmichael, James V. (ed.).  Daring to Find Our Names:  The Search for Lesbigay Library History (1995), the first effort of its kind.  I take no credit for the book's content (Jim did a helluva job putting this together), but as a non-member of this particular "group" I do take credit for initiating the effort and seeing it through to publication.

Following the publication of The Desegregation of Public Libraries in the Jim Crow South:  Civil Rights and Local Activism (2018) that I wrote with my wife Shirl, I embarked on a 26-city book tour.  At many of those stops we had panels in which the Black teenagers who integrated public libraries in the 1960s told their stories to local audiences who had very little idea what these kids had accomplished decades earlier.  These included five presentations with Tougaloo Nine members Geraldine Edwards, Ethel Sawyer, and Albert Lassiter.  Three other presentations included Ibrahim Mumin, who as 15-year-old Charlie Porter desegregated the Columbus (GA) public library in 1963 with other teenagers.  At each of these venues they were able to tell their stories.  In particular I remember Ibrahim at our Columbus presentation in 2019, at which he told his story to 125 mesmerized (mostly Black) Columbus High School students.  It was an amazing moment.   Again, I do not take credit for their stories, but I do take credit for the research that helped craft a series of venues in which they could tell them.

Finally, as a "non-group member" I also take issue with your premise.  My latest book, In Silence or Indifference:  Racism and Jim Crow Segregated Public School Libraries (2024) is groundbreaking (albeit a book largely ignored by the library profession, including, I believe, LCHS).  It's the first publication that reveals the library profession said and did nothing about racially segregated Jim Crow public school libraries between 1954 (Brown) and 1974.  In it I detail the heretofore untold stories of Autherine Lucy Foster, Ernestine Denham Talbert, and Carrie Coleman Robinson--among many others.  (See also: "Race and School Librarianship in the Jim Crow South, 1954-1970:  The Untold Story of Carrie Coleman Robinson as a Case Study," Library Quarterly, 91 [July, 2021]: 254-268; and "Autherine Lucy Foster:  Yet Another Hidden Figure in American Library History," Library Quarterly, 95 [January 2025]: 79-96.)  Quite frankly, without my research these stories of Black female librarians would still be untold. 

Much more important to me than the question of whether group members or non-group members are properly positioned to tell stories is the issue of rigorous historical research.  While researching In Silence or Indifference I went through the E.J. Josey Papers, the D. Eric Moore Papers, the Annettee H. Phinazee Papers, and the ALA Black Caucus Papers, all gathered into a large closet just across from the Office of the Dean of North Carolina Central University's School of Library and Information Studies. At the time I thought to myself: "Wow, this is a heretofore unknown treasure-trove of materials reflecting on the Black experience in 20^th century librarianship." Many of those materials have been sitting at NCCU for more than half-a-century.  I don't pretend to have seen everything published in American library history in the last 20 years, but I have yet to see a citation to any of these collections in the literature I have read.

So, yes, do publish stories.  But unless LCHS editors and their reviewers also insist that authors of manuscript submissions had researched all relevant manuscript collections, unless they welcome submissions from story-telling "non-group" members like me, I don't see much chance that the quality of the scholarship the journal publishes will improve much.

Wayne A. Wiegand

F. William Summers Professor Emeritus of Library & Information Studies

Florida State University

wwiegandfsu@gmail.com

Dear Dr. Wiegand, Dr. Cooke, and Dr. Leibiger

Thank you for your open letters.

I'm writing to share two observations that echo the concerns and to add a personal perspective. Although none of them happened to me in the context of LCHS, I think they align well with your mission. I also want to increase awareness of these newer realities (the first especially is well documented).

Interdisciplinary LIS research is under-cited and high un-citedness in LIS literature signals deeper issues.

Interdisciplinary work, especially research that bridges library history and other fields, regardless of debates about rigor, remains under-cited or uncited and outside core citation practices. This reflects deeper systemic issues like cliquism, insularity, and misalignment with academic visibility metrics, suggesting many LIS studies may be under‑disseminated, under‑recognized, siloed, or not aligned with practitioner needs.

Identity-based gatekeeping in peer review includes intra-minority conflict over scholarly legitimacy.

Peer review in LIS is influenced by identity-based gatekeeping; this includes intra-minority conflicts and political activism that penalize work challenging dominant identities or power structures. Such identity gate‑keeping silences marginalized voices, perpetuating narrow narratives and discursive violence, and limits the discipline's reliability and trustworthiness.

A personal anecdote: Last year, at the Library Research Round Table held on the campus of the University of Kentucky at Lexington, during a lunch table discussion about peer review practices I shared about one of my projects: a peer review tool to help identify discursive violence. The idea was well received, but I received no responses. This highlights a broader reluctance to engage with this type of critique (I don't blame anybody given career, institutional, and cultural realities). 

I hope these points add to the conversation and encourage a more inclusive and critically reflective LIS scholarship. I look forward to hearing others' experiences of these phenomena as well. Thanks, again, for sharing about your important work, journal, and encouraging openness about our schol comm practices.

Best regards,

Anita

Dear Dr. Wiegand,

The Co-Editors of Libraries: Culture, History, and Society (LCHS) regret not having had the opportunity to engage with you directly about your criticism of our journal. We do feel the need to address publicly the false dichotomy you establish in your open letter between historical researchers and community members. Our position has never negated the work of historical researchers like you. However, we strive to make room for voices that belong to the communities in question; these voices have previously not been prioritized for various reasons, such as racism, lack of access, suppression, colonialism, and the like. So, while your work is certainly recognized, it is not the only, centered, work in this genre. Community members can indeed write about themselves, applying their own lenses and experience, instead of deferring to white researchers as the sole arbiters of their stories. They can also do so with academic rigor. As a scholarly journal, we apply double-blind peer review and revision to all manuscripts that are submitted to the journal.

For those in this forum who have not read our position firsthand, we encourage everyone to write about library history, but we ask that room and priority be given to community members as first authors, co-authors, and significant contributors to the research and writing processes. In doing so, we are mobilizing the LCHS DEI Statement and Action Plan (https://scholarlypublishingcollective.org/psup/libraries/article/6/1/v/299076/LCHS-DEI-Statement-and-Action-Plan) that originated under our founding Co-Editors. We welcome your submissions!

Regarding the question of a book review for your latest title, a review is indeed underway, and we hope to publish it soon. However, as it seems you think so little of LCHS, we understand if you would like to *not* have your work reviewed by our journal. We, of course, cannot speak to other publications and the field.

Sincerely,

Nicole A. Cooke, PhD, MEd, MLS 
Augusta Baker Endowed Chair and Professor
School of Information Science, University of South Carolina

Carol A. Leibiger, PhD, MA, MSLIS

Professor Emerita

University Libraries, University of South Dakota

Open Letter to the Editors of Libraries:  Culture, History, and Society:

The latest issue of LCHS just crossed my desk, and in it I read the following partial sentence on page v: "Recognizing that stories belong to the groups that experience them and not to non-group members…"  I have absolutely no quarrel with (and fully encourage) members of particular library "groups" to share the stories they have experienced.  But to characterize non-members as somehow not "belonging" to these stories runs counter to many of my own experiences as a library historian.  Please let me detail examples from my own career.

 As editor of the Beta Phu Mu Monographs series in the 1990s, I approached Jim Carmichael about putting together a series of essays on LGBTQ+ experiences in librarianship.  The result was:  Carmichael, James V. (ed.).  Daring to Find Our Names:  The Search for Lesbigay Library History (1995), the first effort of its kind.  I take no credit for the book's content (Jim did a helluva job putting this together), but as a non-member of this particular "group" I do take credit for initiating the effort and seeing it through to publication.

Following the publication of The Desegregation of Public Libraries in the Jim Crow South:  Civil Rights and Local Activism (2018) that I wrote with my wife Shirl, I embarked on a 26-city book tour.  At many of those stops we had panels in which the Black teenagers who integrated public libraries in the 1960s told their stories to local audiences who had very little idea what these kids had accomplished decades earlier.  These included five presentations with Tougaloo Nine members Geraldine Edwards, Ethel Sawyer, and Albert Lassiter.  Three other presentations included Ibrahim Mumin, who as 15-year-old Charlie Porter desegregated the Columbus (GA) public library in 1963 with other teenagers.  At each of these venues they were able to tell their stories.  In particular I remember Ibrahim at our Columbus presentation in 2019, at which he told his story to 125 mesmerized (mostly Black) Columbus High School students.  It was an amazing moment.   Again, I do not take credit for their stories, but I do take credit for the research that helped craft a series of venues in which they could tell them.

Finally, as a "non-group member" I also take issue with your premise.  My latest book, In Silence or Indifference:  Racism and Jim Crow Segregated Public School Libraries (2024) is groundbreaking (albeit a book largely ignored by the library profession, including, I believe, LCHS).  It's the first publication that reveals the library profession said and did nothing about racially segregated Jim Crow public school libraries between 1954 (Brown) and 1974.  In it I detail the heretofore untold stories of Autherine Lucy Foster, Ernestine Denham Talbert, and Carrie Coleman Robinson--among many others.  (See also: "Race and School Librarianship in the Jim Crow South, 1954-1970:  The Untold Story of Carrie Coleman Robinson as a Case Study," Library Quarterly, 91 [July, 2021]: 254-268; and "Autherine Lucy Foster:  Yet Another Hidden Figure in American Library History," Library Quarterly, 95 [January 2025]: 79-96.)  Quite frankly, without my research these stories of Black female librarians would still be untold. 

Much more important to me than the question of whether group members or non-group members are properly positioned to tell stories is the issue of rigorous historical research.  While researching In Silence or Indifference I went through the E.J. Josey Papers, the D. Eric Moore Papers, the Annettee H. Phinazee Papers, and the ALA Black Caucus Papers, all gathered into a large closet just across from the Office of the Dean of North Carolina Central University's School of Library and Information Studies. At the time I thought to myself: "Wow, this is a heretofore unknown treasure-trove of materials reflecting on the Black experience in 20^th century librarianship." Many of those materials have been sitting at NCCU for more than half-a-century.  I don't pretend to have seen everything published in American library history in the last 20 years, but I have yet to see a citation to any of these collections in the literature I have read.

So, yes, do publish stories.  But unless LCHS editors and their reviewers also insist that authors of manuscript submissions had researched all relevant manuscript collections, unless they welcome submissions from story-telling "non-group" members like me, I don't see much chance that the quality of the scholarship the journal publishes will improve much.

Wayne A. Wiegand

F. William Summers Professor Emeritus of Library & Information Studies

Florida State University

wwiegandfsu@gmail.com

Thank you for your observations, Dr. Coleman. Expanding on two points you present:

*LIS studies may be under‑disseminated, under‑recognized, siloed.

I've been a frequent writer of external letters for promotion and tenure committees. Since these letters are addressed to the university (not only to the LIS candidate's unit) I am asked to comment  on metrics and influence.  Journals with minimal metrics and impact tend to be our journals which are seldom cited outside our discipline. So, I find that in evaluating a candidate I often have to explain our field. This is because--exactly as you point out--the LIS literature is often under‑disseminated, under‑recognized, siloed.

*Identity-based gatekeeping in peer review includes intra-minority conflict over scholarly legitimacy.

Concern about this issue also extends to promotion and tenure evaluations, peer review of manuscripts, and even book reviews. Should someone of one heritage write a promotion and tenure evaluation about a scholar of another? Should  someone of one heritage participate in peer review of a journal submission by someone of another heritage? A few years ago a book review was withdrawn from a peer-reviewed LIS journal because the reviewer and the author of the book reviewed were of different ethnic groups.

When a scholar outside our field  writes a highly praised  book like Klinenberg's Palaces for the People. I think--an LIS scholar could have written that--but because there is not a great deal of LIS scholarship that gains interdisciplinary visibility it wasn't. 

This thread began with an Open Letter from Dr. Wayne Wiegand. He is one of very few LIS scholars who has written for university presses. (seven).* Because of this his writing is the work that is recognized outside LIS and more likely to achieve the interdisciplinary attention that Dr. Coleman highlights as a concern.

--Kathleen

* Johns Hopkins University Press.,Louisiana State University Press, Oxford University Press, University of Iowa Press, University of Massachusetts Press, University Press of Mississippi, University of Oklahoma Press.

Dear Dr. Wiegand, Dr. Cooke, and Dr. Leibiger

Thank you for your open letters.

I'm writing to share two observations that echo the concerns and to add a personal perspective. Although none of them happened to me in the context of LCHS, I think they align well with your mission. I also want to increase awareness of these newer realities (the first especially is well documented).

Interdisciplinary LIS research is under-cited and high un-citedness in LIS literature signals deeper issues.

Interdisciplinary work, especially research that bridges library history and other fields, regardless of debates about rigor, remains under-cited or uncited and outside core citation practices. This reflects deeper systemic issues like cliquism, insularity, and misalignment with academic visibility metrics, suggesting many LIS studies may be under‑disseminated, under‑recognized, siloed, or not aligned with practitioner needs.

Identity-based gatekeeping in peer review includes intra-minority conflict over scholarly legitimacy.

Peer review in LIS is influenced by identity-based gatekeeping; this includes intra-minority conflicts and political activism that penalize work challenging dominant identities or power structures. Such identity gate‑keeping silences marginalized voices, perpetuating narrow narratives and discursive violence, and limits the discipline's reliability and trustworthiness.

A personal anecdote: Last year, at the Library Research Round Table held on the campus of the University of Kentucky at Lexington, during a lunch table discussion about peer review practices I shared about one of my projects: a peer review tool to help identify discursive violence. The idea was well received, but I received no responses. This highlights a broader reluctance to engage with this type of critique (I don't blame anybody given career, institutional, and cultural realities). 

I hope these points add to the conversation and encourage a more inclusive and critically reflective LIS scholarship. I look forward to hearing others' experiences of these phenomena as well. Thanks, again, for sharing about your important work, journal, and encouraging openness about our schol comm practices.

Best regards,

Anita

Dear Dr. Wiegand,

The Co-Editors of Libraries: Culture, History, and Society (LCHS) regret not having had the opportunity to engage with you directly about your criticism of our journal. We do feel the need to address publicly the false dichotomy you establish in your open letter between historical researchers and community members. Our position has never negated the work of historical researchers like you. However, we strive to make room for voices that belong to the communities in question; these voices have previously not been prioritized for various reasons, such as racism, lack of access, suppression, colonialism, and the like. So, while your work is certainly recognized, it is not the only, centered, work in this genre. Community members can indeed write about themselves, applying their own lenses and experience, instead of deferring to white researchers as the sole arbiters of their stories. They can also do so with academic rigor. As a scholarly journal, we apply double-blind peer review and revision to all manuscripts that are submitted to the journal.

For those in this forum who have not read our position firsthand, we encourage everyone to write about library history, but we ask that room and priority be given to community members as first authors, co-authors, and significant contributors to the research and writing processes. In doing so, we are mobilizing the LCHS DEI Statement and Action Plan (https://scholarlypublishingcollective.org/psup/libraries/article/6/1/v/299076/LCHS-DEI-Statement-and-Action-Plan) that originated under our founding Co-Editors. We welcome your submissions!

Regarding the question of a book review for your latest title, a review is indeed underway, and we hope to publish it soon. However, as it seems you think so little of LCHS, we understand if you would like to *not* have your work reviewed by our journal. We, of course, cannot speak to other publications and the field.

Sincerely,

Nicole A. Cooke, PhD, MEd, MLS 
Augusta Baker Endowed Chair and Professor
School of Information Science, University of South Carolina

Carol A. Leibiger, PhD, MA, MSLIS

Professor Emerita

University Libraries, University of South Dakota

Open Letter to the Editors of Libraries:  Culture, History, and Society:

The latest issue of LCHS just crossed my desk, and in it I read the following partial sentence on page v: "Recognizing that stories belong to the groups that experience them and not to non-group members…"  I have absolutely no quarrel with (and fully encourage) members of particular library "groups" to share the stories they have experienced.  But to characterize non-members as somehow not "belonging" to these stories runs counter to many of my own experiences as a library historian.  Please let me detail examples from my own career.

 As editor of the Beta Phu Mu Monographs series in the 1990s, I approached Jim Carmichael about putting together a series of essays on LGBTQ+ experiences in librarianship.  The result was:  Carmichael, James V. (ed.).  Daring to Find Our Names:  The Search for Lesbigay Library History (1995), the first effort of its kind.  I take no credit for the book's content (Jim did a helluva job putting this together), but as a non-member of this particular "group" I do take credit for initiating the effort and seeing it through to publication.

Following the publication of The Desegregation of Public Libraries in the Jim Crow South:  Civil Rights and Local Activism (2018) that I wrote with my wife Shirl, I embarked on a 26-city book tour.  At many of those stops we had panels in which the Black teenagers who integrated public libraries in the 1960s told their stories to local audiences who had very little idea what these kids had accomplished decades earlier.  These included five presentations with Tougaloo Nine members Geraldine Edwards, Ethel Sawyer, and Albert Lassiter.  Three other presentations included Ibrahim Mumin, who as 15-year-old Charlie Porter desegregated the Columbus (GA) public library in 1963 with other teenagers.  At each of these venues they were able to tell their stories.  In particular I remember Ibrahim at our Columbus presentation in 2019, at which he told his story to 125 mesmerized (mostly Black) Columbus High School students.  It was an amazing moment.   Again, I do not take credit for their stories, but I do take credit for the research that helped craft a series of venues in which they could tell them.

Finally, as a "non-group member" I also take issue with your premise.  My latest book, In Silence or Indifference:  Racism and Jim Crow Segregated Public School Libraries (2024) is groundbreaking (albeit a book largely ignored by the library profession, including, I believe, LCHS).  It's the first publication that reveals the library profession said and did nothing about racially segregated Jim Crow public school libraries between 1954 (Brown) and 1974.  In it I detail the heretofore untold stories of Autherine Lucy Foster, Ernestine Denham Talbert, and Carrie Coleman Robinson--among many others.  (See also: "Race and School Librarianship in the Jim Crow South, 1954-1970:  The Untold Story of Carrie Coleman Robinson as a Case Study," Library Quarterly, 91 [July, 2021]: 254-268; and "Autherine Lucy Foster:  Yet Another Hidden Figure in American Library History," Library Quarterly, 95 [January 2025]: 79-96.)  Quite frankly, without my research these stories of Black female librarians would still be untold. 

Much more important to me than the question of whether group members or non-group members are properly positioned to tell stories is the issue of rigorous historical research.  While researching In Silence or Indifference I went through the E.J. Josey Papers, the D. Eric Moore Papers, the Annettee H. Phinazee Papers, and the ALA Black Caucus Papers, all gathered into a large closet just across from the Office of the Dean of North Carolina Central University's School of Library and Information Studies. At the time I thought to myself: "Wow, this is a heretofore unknown treasure-trove of materials reflecting on the Black experience in 20^th century librarianship." Many of those materials have been sitting at NCCU for more than half-a-century.  I don't pretend to have seen everything published in American library history in the last 20 years, but I have yet to see a citation to any of these collections in the literature I have read.

So, yes, do publish stories.  But unless LCHS editors and their reviewers also insist that authors of manuscript submissions had researched all relevant manuscript collections, unless they welcome submissions from story-telling "non-group" members like me, I don't see much chance that the quality of the scholarship the journal publishes will improve much.

Wayne A. Wiegand

F. William Summers Professor Emeritus of Library & Information Studies

Florida State University

wwiegandfsu@gmail.com