Vol. 28 No.7, Summer 2001

A Day in the Life of an Arboretum Librarian

When I arrive at work in the morning, I go into my opening up mode — open the blinds, turn on the lights, listen for voice mail messages, and turn on the computer. Then I check the refrigerator in the Administration Building because I am the "soda lady" who keeps the vegetable bins stocked with a variety of drinks for the staff. No, it’s not in the job description.

Then I get to the serious stuff. One of the joys of being a librarian is that you never know what question is coming next. This being the age of Internet and e-mail, I have to check out the messages that came in since yesterday to learn a little, laugh a little (Stumpers-L people can be very funny) and read the reference questions I will investigate. There is a list for Mediterranean plants and gardening which, of course, is very relevant in southern California. Besides getting and giving information, I find that it is a subtle form of advertising. It’s amazing how many people are unaware of this library and yet are looking for the very information we have. After seeing the signature line on my replies a few times, people start to direct their questions my way.

One question I often hear involves finding the botanical name of a plant when the questioner knows a vernacular name — and that name is not usually in English. A recent question was originally directed to the library at the Strybing Arboretum in San Francisco. From there it went out to members of the Council on Botanical and Horticultural Libraries. The mystery plant was said to be a tree used to make paper in the Philippines and the common name might well be misspelled. It’s really not very different from the question any reference librarian might tackle; it is just in a more limited subject area. Anyway, I found what I thought was the answer, the questioner was not as sure, and I will probably never know if he came to agree with me. A lady who just returned from Africa had the native name of a tree and wanted information about it to add to her photographs. That search was simplified by the fact that further digging revealed that the tree name was also the name of a reserve and that led to the botanical name. I could then pull out the books that described the tree. Another visitor was a professor who was born in California and teaches at a university in Australia. She was doing research about how Australia and the American West had an effect on each other in such things as art. Think of the plein air paintings with all the eucalyptus trees. Because the trees have been here nearly 150 years, many people think they are natives.

And so the day goes with questions from our own staff, from gardeners, writers, designers, and tourists on a variety of subjects at all levels of difficulty. Did I mention that I am also the "expert" on how to get from here to there? When visitors want to travel on to the next place on their agendas, the cashiers refer them to me for directions. That may be as much because they don’t have the time to explain, as it is that I know where the visitors want to go.

As 5:00 approaches, I start closing down. I fill the soda drawers for the last time, turn the computer off, close the blinds, check the doors and head out for the freeway where I can watch the seasonal change of flora: Matilija poppies, orchid trees, lantana, dodder, floss silk trees. It somehow reminds me of the time that I was changing jobs and my boss told her supervisor that I was going to a place where they did plant research. The supervisor asked, "What does Joan know about factories?" Not much. But call if you want to know about plants.

Joan DeFato

LA Arboretum