Why Targeted Professional Development for BIPOC Staff Matters

In the months since Donald Trump issued an executive order terminating “illegal DEI,” states, institutions, and the federal government have placed policy and legal barriers to explicitly supporting Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) staff. Despite ongoing legal challenges, the executive order has already led to entire university departments being disbanded and people losing their jobs. It has also had a chilling and demoralizing effect on those of us who have experienced the transformative power of targeted professional development.

The three of us are connected through the shared experience of participating in professional development retreats organized by the Association of Southeastern Research Libraries (ASERL). The ASERL BIPOC Leadership Development Retreats (later renamed ASERL Professional Development Retreats) were created to foster belonging and to establish an enduring community among library staff and librarians across institutions. The inclusion of library staff—who typically have fewer opportunities than librarians to step away from their daily work to focus on development—is a distinctive aspect of the ASERL retreats, which were developed by Elaina Norlin, ASERL professional development program coordinator.

Elaina was inspired by visits to member institutions where she observed that many staff were left out of professional development opportunities because of institutional policies, which overlooked them in favor of faculty librarians, or because of limited funding opportunities. For each retreat, Elaina collaborates with a host institution to organize three days of learning opportunities, experiences, and activities for 35–50 participants. All ASERL member institutions are expected to fully fund their staff’s participation. The first retreat was held in Miami in 2023, with subsequent retreats in Atlanta, Chapel Hill, and Charlottesville. Our stories highlight the impact and importance of this type of professional development and networking.

A Changed Trajectory (Adebola’s story)

When a colleague forwarded me an invitation to the inaugural ASERL retreat in Miami, I wasn’t even aware that our organization was part of ASERL.

At the time, I was feeling isolated in my work as a department head at North Carolina State University and struggling to find motivation to keep showing up. I had recently moved to North Carolina, having previously lived in Chicago and Seattle, and I was struggling to find community. At work, where I was the only department head of color and one of two African Americans in an upper leadership role, I lacked spaces or community that made me feel safe enough to show up as my authentic self or to be vulnerable. As a leader, I had to be present and available for my staff, but I didn’t have my own outlets for support.

It was wearing on me. I felt so disconnected, I was actually considering looking for jobs back in Chicago, where I would at least have my family and the community I grew up with.

The ASERL retreat changed my trajectory. Beyond the practical skills I gained, like learning my Dominance, Influence, Steadiness, and Conscientiousness (DISC) profile and planning career development steps, the best part of the retreat was meeting people in the Southeast who understand the unique challenges of working in this region, in general but also as a person of color. We didn’t just bond over the usual workplace frustrations, like microaggressions or inadequate mental health support, that seem to plague organizations everywhere. Our conversations went deeper, acknowledging the particular weight of working in a region still grappling with its history of racially discriminatory labor practices, where right-to-work laws often translate to lower wages and fewer benefits than we’d find elsewhere. We talked openly about the stress of navigating healthcare disparities that leave many of us with unequal access to quality care, another layer of concern that compounds everything else.

These connections have become lasting relationships. My fellow attendees and I have presented together at conferences and maintained a group chat where we celebrate successes, and we continue lifting each other up professionally.

I got into librarianship because I wanted to provide patrons with access to information. I became a leader because I love coaching and building up my staff. But I’ve stayed because of experiences like the retreat.

The reality is that retreats like this are essential if I am to sustain myself in the profession. While my title is “librarian,” for the thousands of students of color who see me as one of the few people on campus who looks like them and can help, I’m also a therapist, career counselor, visa application advisor, and conflict manager. This unpaid emotional labor is significant and often unrecognized.

My role requires creative problem-solving, but when I’m constantly managing my “work persona” to appear professional by others’ standards, I lose access to that creativity. I need spaces where my authentic self is not only accepted, but also deemed professional. When I can’t be authentic, I become a shell of myself, which makes it harder to do my job effectively.

Attending retreats specifically for library staff of color helps me navigate this reality alongside others who share my experience. These spaces teach us how to manage the additional responsibilities we carry while still advancing our careers.

Professional development retreats have become my primary networking strategy. They’ve also helped me to deepen local connections and create opportunities for my own staff.

When the retreat came to Chapel Hill, I not only attended but helped plan activities with colleagues I’d met in Miami who lived in the area. I also got to share the experience with two professional staff members from my department who don’t normally have conference opportunities. Growing and learning alongside them was an invaluable experience.

Ultimately, what the ASERL retreats have offered me is a space where I can be authentic while building the professional relationships and skills I need to continue growing in this field.

“Hey, Are You a Librarian?” (Chereeka’s Story)

The magic of my first ASERL retreat began in the elevator. I was heading down to the lobby to meet 49 people I didn’t know, when I noticed the other person in the elevator looking at me. I smiled and went back to my own thoughts, but then I heard, “Hey, are you a librarian?”

As a new librarian, I was so excited to have anyone think I looked like a librarian, but I played it cool. Her name was Adebola, and she was also attending the inaugural ASERL retreat.

I had recently transitioned to academic librarianship after a long career as a high school teacher. When I stepped into that elevator, eight months after entering the field, I felt confident in my day-to-day work but struggled to understand professional expectations for research and scholarship. My colleagues were kind and supportive, but when I talked to them about their research agendas, I left with even more questions about establishing a research agenda of my own. I had shared my struggles with my dean, who had strongly recommended I attend the inaugural ASERL Professional Development Retreat in Miami.

Networking is the first step in building a professional support system. In an ideal situation, your network will assist you in your work, and if you’re lucky, your personal life.

That’s what I found at the retreat. In Miami, I met library professionals from my state and from across the country. The retreat was intentionally small, allowing me to form meaningful relationships with everyone in attendance. Networking is most powerful when interactions don’t feel transactional. The time allotted to networking at the retreat ensured that our conversations were genuine, engaging, and impactful.

After attending the retreat, I have 49 librarians, in various places and institutions, that I call friends. We speak often, celebrating not only work achievements, frustrations, and ongoing challenges, but personal triumphs and struggles as well. If I hadn’t attended the retreat, many of these relationships would not exist.

Moments of Genuine Connection (Hannah’s story)

Library work, at its best, creates moments of genuine connection between people. When I help a patron find the exact resource that they need or demystify a technology that streamlines the research process, I enjoy seeing their spark of inspiration and excitement. Sometimes these interactions are transactional; the patron leaves with an answer, and I quickly move on to the next task. Other times, these interactions invite a deeper understanding. In these moments, transaction transforms into relation, and I gain just as much as the people that I help.

While these examples are specific to my public-facing role, all library staff can find and create moments of connection when they are fully supported. But when library staff are not supported, the transactional nature of our work can be depleting. The emotional labor of library work—for example, when library staff are expected to maintain a positive, friendly demeanor even when a patron or colleague is angry and abusive—has been studied and documented as a source of workplace burnout. The dissonance between how one feels and how one is expected to act is exacerbated when combined with racial and gendered microaggressions that are rooted in historic injustices and power imbalances.

Support looks different for everyone, but one of the ways that I have been supported in my career is through professional development. I am fortunate that I have had ample opportunities to attend and present at conferences, participate in workshops, and create meaningful connections beyond my institution. In particular, participating in professional development specifically designed for BIPOC library workers has helped me understand how my identity as a multiracial, cis woman shapes my work as a librarian. Throughout my career there have been situations when I have diminished myself and my expertise in order to make someone else feel comfortable. In each instance, the other person had more perceived knowledge and authority based on their dominant identities. Having the time, space, and safety to reflect with other BIPOC library staff has helped me understand how my behavior has been influenced by racist and sexist systems. The ASERL retreat helped me put my experiences and behavior in context and develop confidence and self-assurance that makes me a better colleague and manager.

I attended the third ASERL Professional Development Retreat, hosted just down the road from my workplace. There, I was introduced to library staff from neighboring institutions that I wouldn’t otherwise meet. Through the ASERL retreat and other BIPOC-focused professional development, I have found a vital network of peers and friends who support me through challenging times. We celebrate career milestones, publications, and promotions. We also share advice on difficult work dynamics, and perspectives on how different institutions are responding to the current moment.

At the retreat, I also got to connect with staff from my own library that I rarely get to interact with. The daily agendas included workshops, panels, and activities and started with optional guided meditation. Together, we learned and discussed, but most importantly we relaxed and had fun. The experience began for me with a grounding meditation sitting between two of my closest colleagues and ended with a joyful round of karaoke with new friends. These moments of genuine connection with other library professionals are so important to sustaining ourselves and our work.

Conclusion: What Institutions Can Do to Support Staff Development and Retention

Reducing opportunities for BIPOC staff in the face of Trump’s executive order is disappointing and short-sighted. Instead, institutions should adopt an abundance mindset and increase opportunities for everyone. Affinity spaces where staff can connect with colleagues who share similar experiences and challenges aren’t about exclusion; they’re about creating the conditions where all staff can thrive and bring their best selves to their work.

The path forward isn’t always clear, and there may not be perfect solutions. But giving up because the work is challenging serves no one. Instead, institutions should actively seek feedback from staff and be willing to meet changing policies with creative solutions. Investing in professional development and community-building for BIPOC staff pays dividends not just for individual employees but for the institutions and the communities we serve.