









































56  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

A Question of Identity
Vocation, Professionalization, and Atla 
Membership
James Estes, Wesley Theological Seminary 
Shaneé Yvette Murrain, University of West Georgia 
Sandy Shapoval, Phillips Theological Seminary 
Megan Welsh, University of Colorado Boulder

ABSTR ACT “Who are we as theology librarians, and what does 
involvement in Atla mean to us? Does serving as a theology librarian 
signify an exercise in religious vocation and is our association a faith-
based organization with professional dimensions? Or are we librarians 
in a professional association concerned with content in theology and 
religious studies?” There are different responses to this query, and these 
differences can lead to tension as theology and religious studies librar-
ians with diverse perspectives work together to build a shared future 
in Atla. The panelists—representing different faith traditions, institu-
tional settings, educational and professional backgrounds, and perspec-
tives on their work as librarians—reflect on their roles as theology and 
religious studies librarians with regard to three guiding prompts: (1) 
What is your sense of vocation and identity as a librarian? (2) How does 
Atla function for you, in terms of spiritual formation and/or professional 
development? and (3) What do you want from Atla?

JAMES ESTES, WESLEY THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

Good afternoon, and welcome to our session on professional iden-
tity and membership in Atla. My name is James Estes, and I am the 
director of the library at Wesley Theological Seminary, where I also 
teach church history and medieval studies. While mine is the least 
important voice you’re going to hear this afternoon, I have the plea-
sure and the privilege of introducing our topic and our panelists. 
Let’s start with the people you’re here to hear: joining us today are 
Shaneé Yvette Murrain, University Archivist and Assistant Profes-



Panel Presentation 57

sor at the University of West Georgia; Sandy Shapoval, Dean of the 
Library and Research Services at Phillips Theological Seminary; 
and Megan Welsh, Assistant Professor and Interdisciplinary Arts 
and Humanities Librarian at the University of Colorado Boulder. I’m 
happy and honored that they are joining us to reflect on their work 
as library professionals and members of Atla. Before we turn to our 
discussion, however, my colleagues and I would like to respectfully 
acknowledge that we are gathered today on the traditional territory 
of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh peoples. 

Let’s start with the big picture: Who, or what is Atla? ATLA—as 
the American Theological Library Association—was authorized in 
1946 by the American Association of Theological Schools (now the 
Association of Theological Schools in the United States and Canada) 
to “study the distinctive problems of theological seminary librar-
ies,” in part to address the issue of accreditation.1 As a product of 
largely mainline Protestant theological education, the theological 
and formational dimensions of theology librarianship were never 
far from the surface. Raymond Morris asserted in his 1953 ATLA 
address that “theological librarianship is at its best a ministry”—an 
address which Carisse Berryhill calls the “touchstone articulation” 
of the vocation of theology librarianship for many theology librari-
ans.2 

Things have changed considerably. The organization that was 
created by the ATS to address the problem of Protestant theologi-
cal school libraries now has an expanded, comprehensive vision 
for librarianship and scholarly communications in theology and 
religious studies. As Atla itself offers, 

Atla is a membership association of librarians and informa-
tion professionals, and a producer of research tools, commit-
ted to advancing the study of religion and theology. Our 
membership includes more than 800 individuals and librar-
ies at academic institutions from diverse religious traditions 
and backgrounds. As a community of collectors and connec-
tors, Atla works to promote worldwide scholarly communica-
tion in religion and theology by advancing the work of libraries 
and related information providers.3  



58  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

We have, then, the historic ATLA and the present Atla, and I believe 
it’s safe to say that the latter is historically linked but no longer exis-
tentially bound to the tradition of Protestant Christian theological 
education. I would suggest that this has caused some tension within 
the association as some members of Atla may hold divergent, even 
dissonant visions of our work together. Thus, the reason for us coming 
together today. If we are no longer solely an association of librarians 
whose focus is theological education, then who are we and how do we 
envision our work together? While this question cannot be answered 
neatly in a single conversation, it’s a dialogue worthy of attention. 

Before I turn to our colleagues, I want to highlight the three 
important questions that emerged as we collaborated on this panel: 
(1) What is your sense of vocation and identity as a librarian? (2) How 
does Atla function for you? (Is it for spiritual formation, professional 
development, or both?) and (3) What do you want from Atla? Let’s 
keep these questions in mind as kind of a roadmap for our conver-
sation this afternoon, and now—let’s begin.

SHANEÉ YVETTE MURRAIN, UNIVERSITY OF WEST GEORGIA

What is your sense of vocation and identity as a librarian?
I can point to a childhood experience involving faith, community, 
and representation for how and why I came to do the work which 
makes my life sweet. One evening during the summer I turned six 
years old, my aunt Denise and I took a walk around the Spanish 
Harlem neighborhood my family has called home for three gener-
ations. Both my maternal and paternal branches staked claim to 
a side of 3rd Avenue after departing the American South, Puerto 
Rico, and St. Thomas for better opportunities. The details about our 
purpose or intended destination escape me, but what is seared in 
my memory is how formative that walk has become to my entire life 
and vocation. Our trek led us past my favorite mural, Hank Prussing 
and Manuel Vega’s iconic “The Spirit of East Harlem,” immortalizing 
fifty-three residents of the largely Puerto Rican community. With 
fondness of that familiar image in mind, we approached a grue-
some mural depicting the crucified Christ. It stopped me dead in 
my tracks. I looked to Titi Denise for counsel. She raptly uncovered 
a cross from her neck to underscore, “This is Christ who died for 



Panel Presentation 59

you!” Needless to say, I was absolutely traumatized and spent years 
attending different religious services trying to understand why 
people built their lives and best efforts around this particular story. 
I became further transfixed with church culture while pursuing my 
BA in Religion and Philosophy. 

The year 2008 found me in seminary, continuing this interest 
in African American church history. In the final year of the MDiv 
program, I was introduced to librarianship by Dr. Ernest Rubenstein, 
Theological Librarian at Drew University. My primary objective for 
considering the field was to create an open-access database for 
scholars and laypeople to study Black church history. Shortly after 
enrollment in the MLS program at North Carolina Central University, 
I scheduled a meeting with the University Archivist to learn about 
Special Collections. I was told about the digitization of Durham’s 
White Rock Baptist Church papers and was offered a grant-funded 
position working on the larger CCC project. A few years into working 
with religious materials at Duke, a post for an archivist to coordinate 
a digitization project at a historic Black seminary caught my eye. 
Once my work on that project was complete, a colleague encouraged 
me to apply to the University Archivist position at the University of 
West Georgia where there was an opportunity for me to create and 
lead a church-based community archives initiative. 

How does Atla function for you? Is it for spiritual formation, profes-
sional development, or both? 
Becoming involved in Atla has been crucial for my professional 
development. Shortly after joining the organization in 2012, I was 
appointed to the Diversity Committee (2014–2016). This appoint-
ment gave me the unique opportunity to use committee work as 
leverage for enacting real organizational change. 

During our Fall planning meeting, I proposed we design a pre-
conference workshop to identify the benefits of inclusiveness in 
ATLA and ways to increase racial equity in theological librarianship, 
including training in the awareness of the impact of racism on insti-
tutions and the steps necessary for interrupting racist structures. 
The conversations resulting from the workshop led to a commit-
tee name change and updated charge to reflect ATLA’s revised core 
values. 



60  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

On June 17, 2015, I was moderating a panel discussion and pre-
conference workshop on Racial Equity in Theological Librarian-
ship at the ATLA annual meeting in Denver, Colorado, with other 
members of the Diversity Committee. There was rich, honest, vulner-
able dialogue and a resolve among the small number of attendees 
to continue the conversation within the larger professional asso-
ciation and back home in our practices at home libraries. I checked 
my phone the evening of June 17th after a full day of diversity train-
ing to find Tumblr, flooded with stories about the Mother Emanuel 
shooting. The story was a bit slow to hit national news; social media 
is more and more showing itself to be the better tool for “breaking 
news.”

The President of ATLA announced at the plenary session the 
next morning that nine Bible Study attendees had been murdered 
at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina. The 
crowd of librarians, many holding tablets and smart devices gasped. 
Loudly. I was surprised that so many hadn’t heard. I understood we 
were a bit isolated by travel and attending the conference, but these 
were librarians, who I believed were pretty good about being aware 
of what’s going on in the world.  

After the session, I ran into Methodist librarian Chris Anderson 
and fellow millennial and AME Zion librarian Jess Bellemer in the 
vendor hall. I knew we couldn’t be the only ones talking about this 
hate crime and connecting it to the pre-conference workshop on 
diversity and inclusion. Jess and I came up with a plan of action. We 
organized a lunchtime chat at the hotel restaurant with the ATLA 
President and Director of Member Programs for those who wanted 
to talk about the tragedy. ATLA staff graciously agreed to cover the 
meals of all attendees. 

Quite a few members of the Board of Directors attended and were 
extremely active in the conversation. Jess and I worked throughout 
the afternoon to petition the Board to formulate an official response 
to the act of terrorism, which I read aloud at the end of the Business 
Meeting. The Board convened a special meeting to which Jess and 
I were invited as special guests, though Jess did not attend. There 
were concerns raised from other members about where ATLA stood 
as far as politics, activism, and diversity. We drafted a proclamation 
that was read at the closing plenary on the basis that ATLA contrib-



Panel Presentation 61

utes to the formation of religious leaders and librarians.
The conversation continued post-conference on our online 

listserv. I shared the quickly developing Twitter crowd-sourced 
#CharlestonSyllabus I’d discovered on the plane ride home from the 
conference. Some of the conversations concerning the right to bear 
arms and fly the Confederate Flag were hard to read, other messages 
(many sent to me off the list) made me proud and optimistic about 
my membership in the organization and my role in bringing aware-
ness to the tragedy.

What do you want from Atla? 
Now as a board member, I’ve been witness and participant in the 
rebranding of Atla and conversations around increasing diversity 
in the association. I want from Atla something I want from all the 
groups of people I interact with professionally: respect, and if at all 
possible, the radical expression of hospitality that is being left to be. 
I’ll be completely transparent here and say that while I find great 
value in attending annual meeting, each year I am left completely 
drained by the experience. I am repeatedly microaggressed by 
members who are startled, uncomfortable or seemingly unfamil-
iar with me (though we’ve met countless times and my face is now 
the introductory image on the website). As a result, Atla is not a body 
that contributes to my spiritual formation, but it does strengthen my 
vocational resolve to remain present, actively engaged and vocal. 
I appreciate those with whom I’ve built genuine relationships over 
the years and want to recognize the Special Collections and Archives 
Interest Group, who are some of the best Special Collections Librari-
ans I’ve ever met, and I remain hopeful that Atla will be a place where 
all the folks who feel underrepresented or have experienced harm 
find what they need and expect the association and our member-
ship to provide.  

SANDY SHAPOVAL, PHILLIPS THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

What is your sense of vocation and identity as a librarian?
My librarianship extends from a sacred sense of service: being an 
agent in sharing the recorded conversations of humanity that lead 
to furthering wisdom in this life. I marvel that I am in a position to 



62  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

fulfill this sense of being; the word “gratitude” doesn’t even cut it—
it’s an amazement. 

I love my work at Phillips Theological Seminary where I serve as 
Dean of the Library and Research Services. The ensemble and inter-
connected approach that feels most natural to my work identity is 
nurtured by the integration of our librarianship into the structure of 
Phillips. The library is both a pedagogical and a technological part-
ner of the seminary. My management style is collaborative, and I try 
to reflect the integrated nature of the seminary’s work throughout 
my relationships with the other librarians. 

I belong to the Unitarian Universalist tradition, a non-creedal, 
covenantal, congregational, and progressive denomination histori-
cally seated within the Judeo-Christian tradition. Phillips is histori-
cally Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and has become explicitly 
progressive in recent years, a natural outgrowth of the Disciples’ 
ecumenical tradition. We currently serve students from nineteen 
denominations. As an institution we are an important part of the 
interfaith and social justice fabric of the Tulsa, Oklahoma, area and 
larger region. This orientation is framed by our identity phrase which 
emphasizes our theological interpretation of the Gospels: “We are 
dedicated to learning the way of Jesus [emphasis added] in order to 
cultivate vital congregations, communities, conversations and the 
public good.”4

This institutional orientation facilitates a mechanism whereby I 
am able to exercise my ethical core: the dissemination of information 
to our community for the purpose and hope of enabling their attain-
ment of the wisdom necessary to navigate our very choppy societal 
waters. Our faculty, students, and alums are frequently called upon 
to publicly address challenges to the Judeo-Christian theological 
foundation that we are all made in the image of God. It is the work 
of our library to make sure the community has access to the record 
of conversation partners that inspire creative responses in difficult 
times. In other words, I see the right to transmission of knowledge as 
divine. 

My vocational identity is missional in this sense. My larger hope 
lies in bringing people into conversations that support change which 
nurtures the respect inherent in the Imago Dei. 



Panel Presentation 63

How does Atla function for you? Is it for spiritual formation, profes-
sional development, or both? 
As much as my place of work functions as a frame for spiritual forma-
tion for me, Atla functions chiefly as a professional skills-development 
apparatus for my trajectory. It supports the technical expertise-honing 
I need in order to better exercise the aims of my professional identity 
and goals. This professional support framework is very important to 
me; there is no other organization that fulfills this piece. Each year I 
look forward to the Atla conference as an energizing opportunity to 
continue learning, renewing, and refining ideas.   

I do occasionally find my “spiritual” aspect is engaged when 
conversations with other members touch on such topics as the phil-
osophical aspects of learning and reading processing, a tad of the 
epistemological. I find these conversations deeply fulfilling, and they 
provide a sense of at-home-ness for me in knowing I am with others 
like me. But generally, I am feasting on ideas that move my craft 
forward among colleagues who challenge and teach me. Atla offers a 
space and opportunity for me to push my technical edge with others 
who possess an intensity of purpose that can equal that which they 
bring to the exercise of their religious faith: worshipful and seeking. 
I feel we all share this double-mapping, or spiritual overlay, with our 
work.

I am still chewing on my only real disappointment with Atla. 
During 2012, the year the annual conference was held in Scottsdale, 
the Arizona politicians of the day had passed laws censoring text-
books, attempting even at the university level to remove the narrative 
of non-European struggle and achievement from their educational 
system. I watched these events unfold across our national networks, 
and I viewed these acts as demonic—they transgressed my sense of 
the divine that manifests as the right to transmission of knowledge, 
and they transgressed the right of marginalized cultures to exist even 
in concept, an attempted x-ing out of the Imago Dei. As such I thought 
it a natural extension of ATLA—librarianship in conjunction with the 
Judeo-Christian tradition of access to The Book—to participate in the 
anti-censorship protests building in the Phoenix area. The Amer-
ican Library Association was forthcoming with its position, pass-
ing a resolution in January of 2012 condemning the actions of the 
Arizona government.5 I received communication from ATLA’s leader-



64  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

ship, however,  that I could not use ATLA’s communication structure 
(ATLANTIS) for discussion on the matter, but I was free to speak in 
non-ATLA modes:  

ATLA is not a political advocacy organization, and 
advocacy related to this issue does not further the mission 
or organizational ends. Our membership is diverse and 
represents a wide range of viewpoints, and our neutral 
stance on political issues of all kinds reflects our respect for 
individual members’ right to their own personal viewpoints.6

Clearly there were members of the association who held the poli-
cies of cultural information suppression as just and necessary, and 
ATLA would not offend these colleagues. ATLA would be an organiza-
tion for the craft of librarianship, despite the fact that censorship is 
an existential threat to its being, and has no social justice component, 
even in the face of censorship. 

This disappointment is heavy still, and I will talk more about this 
in the next question.  

What do you want from Atla? 
My hope is that as Atla’s sphere expands into a globalized and religious 
studies-supporting organization it will feel more authorized to act 
on the existential threat of knowledge suppression. I hope that the 
respect and welcoming of broader ways of religious being in the world 
will accompany a more courageous stance in confronting difficult 
conversations about allowing censorship that demeans, and attempts 
to further shame, competing religious ideas. 

There seems to me to be a place for faith activity beyond traditional 
worship settings that we see at Atla, activities that would not shy away 
from asking what it means to be attentive to God, or the Ultimate, if 
you will. And so, I wonder: Is anti-censorship activism, especially that 
which relates to the preservation of non-dominant historical tradi-
tions—which are inevitably part of the competition of religious ideas—
ours to engage in at Atla?

Language from Atla’s core values includes “widest possible access 
to relevant information and ideas,” and “hospitality, inclusion, and 
diversity.”7



Panel Presentation 65

The first item under the “Atla exists so that” enumeration states: 

Professionals engaged in librarianship and scholarly commu-
nication are advocating and collaborating in order to advance 
scholarship in theological and religious disciplines.

a. Librarians and scholarly communication professionals 
are developing and strengthening connections that lead 
to innovative solutions for shared challenges.

b. Librarians and scholarly communication professionals 
are developing increased capacities to work in diverse 
and changing environments [emphases added].8

I hope that these aspirations are not meant only to focus on the 
economic challenges of obtaining our resources and technological 
means to serve—which are deep and are many. If we do not have a 
strategy to challenge threats to the principles underlying the very 
need for these technologies and financial resources, then, as I see it, 
we are in peril. A cursory look at current politics with the disman-
tling of scientific information for the furthering of certain faith 
beliefs over others in the United States should indicate that the 
specter of broader silencing of religious ideas is not necessarily 
far-fetched. 

The Atla website says, “We are curators, disseminators, and 
aggregators.”9 But should we not also be defenders? If a value of anti-
censorship is included in Atla’s core list we would have a mechanism 
to address threats to the legality of the existence of our religious 
content. 

MEGAN WELSH, UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO BOULDER

What is your sense of vocation and identity as a librarian?
I’m going to flip this first question slightly and answer the “identity” 
piece first. I don’t think I can talk about my sense of vocation without 
first talking about my sense of identity.

Identity
That said, I’m approaching sharing my identity with a sense of 
nervousness and this comes from the fact I have rarely talked about 



66  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

my own personal religious affiliation in professional settings and 
especially not in this one. I wonder if in sharing this aspect of myself, 
some will consider me a fraud within an organization which broadly 
seems to celebrate the intersection of personally held religious 
beliefs and professional practice.

Spoiler alert: I am not someone who nurtures this intersection 
of religious belief in my librarianship.

 My relationship with God is a personal one that goes beyond 
doctrine and transcends the religious tradition I was born into. 
Although this is a personal relationship, I feel, as an Atla member 
attending this conference, I have to and, indeed, today, am choosing 
to make it a public phenomenon.

I consider myself a Cultural Catholic, someone who was raised 
in the Roman Catholic Church, but who does not go to Church regu-
larly and whose relationship with the divine is not confined to reli-
gious doctrine.

 This background and how I currently define myself lends to a 
sense of imposter syndrome, another aspect of my identity which 
presents itself in my librarianship. I’m so impressed by all of you who 
are ordained. I’m so impressed by your many degrees in all aspects 
of religion, higher education, and librarianship. I’m impressed by 
the faith some of you maintain that fosters connection with your 
students. My curiosity functions in a similar way, allowing me to 
connect with my patrons who are actively pursuing their inquiry 
into religion, but ultimately, I don’t have that faith that I bring to my 
librarianship.

It can be very intimidating being in a room with all of you well-
educated, grounded colleagues and I realize that, by presenting 
some of the reasons why I feel intimidated, I’m also making assump-
tions about who all of you are out there and I encourage you to push 
back and challenge these assumptions and share what drives your 
professional identity.

I have felt this imposter syndrome rear its ugly head while 
being invited to pray at this conference and while being asked what 
denomination I am; while hearing some fellow Atla members grum-
ble about the session on inclusivity sponsored by DEI that we had in 
Long Beach, while hearing my colleagues’ express that their lived 
experiences were minimized, sometimes through microaggres-



Panel Presentation 67

sions and other times more explicitly. It has taken me a little while 
to realize that, beyond this sense of imposter syndrome, what I was 
also feeling was the potential for exclusion, either for myself or for 
colleagues who I’ve come to see as friends. 

One of the times that I have felt a disconnect from my colleagues 
was when I was invited to present at the Philosophical, Religious, and 
Theological Studies Discussion Group meeting at ALA Midwinter in 
2018. My presentation, subtitled “Ideas of the Holy,” discussed inter-
faith work and how the academic library can be a center for such 
work, facilitating inclusion of patrons from all faiths. Reactions to 
the presentation were either really positive or really negative. Here 
I thought I was being clever re-envisioning Otto’s title, but some 
people actually expected a more theological, Christian-focused 
presentation. I left that presentation surprised and thinking, “Why 
did people expect such a different presentation than what I deliv-
ered? This isn’t a presentation in front of Atla colleagues!” I double 
checked to make sure I didn’t misread the title of the group, that it 
actually included “philosophical” and “religious” in the name of the 
group and not just “theological.” My gut reaction indicates a sort of 
complacency that such a presentation might garner “controversy” 
or a negative reaction if I had given it at Atla. 

Vocation
So, while I do not feel a sense of vocation in a religious sense, while I 
do not feel called to this role as a Religious Studies Subject Special-
ist, I do feel called to be and do the best that I can in this role. That 
is my vocation.

So if I think of elements of vocation as what am I inspired 
and compelled to do, I come up with three areas of focus in my 
professional practice that I’d like to share (y’all are catching me at a 
great time — I have to submit my tenure documentation at the end 
of this month so I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’ve been doing 
and how I am doing that job excellently over the past six years):

1. Mentor. I feel strongly that it’s important to train the next 
generation of emerging library professionals. I’ve been lucky to 
mentor a graduate student from the Religious Studies Depart-
ment and MLIS students at the Reference Desk.



68  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

2. Innovate. Generate and act on ideas, especially to build 
community and relationships; especially to engage our most 
underserved populations and those who feel least comfortable 
in the libraries. Need to acknowledge that the academic library 
is, in and of itself, regardless of religious affiliation, a barrier to 
the access it tries to provide at times. And I really want to empha-
size that this is regardless of religious affiliation.

After sharing about conducting outreach that proactively 
sought to be inclusive of our marginalized populations at CU 
Boulder, I received comments from folks on ATLANTIS saying 
that my situation is different because I’m at a public univer-
sity and students do not have a strong sense of right and wrong 
because they lack religion as a moral foundation for their 
academic experience.

3. Provide excellent customer service. I prioritize bringing my 
genuine self to my interactions with patrons, especially students 
in research consultations and at the reference desk; engage, with 
empathy and seeking to listen and understand, to facilitate a 
constructive learning experience.

How does Atla function for you? Is it for spiritual formation, profes-
sional development, or both? 
My first ATLA conference was in New Orleans and I remember 
awkwardly doing the newcomer’s BINGO at the welcoming reception. 
(How many of you remember doing that?) Although I hate icebreakers 
like that, I’ve returned to be a Welcomer every single year because I 
love the camaraderie I have felt among colleagues in Atla and I want 
newbies to feel welcome as well. That is how Atla functions for me.

I will say that, although I felt welcomed at the Welcome reception at 
my first ATLA, I was surprised when I walked into the opening recep-
tion to see mainly older white men. I didn’t realize how many men 
were active in theological librarianship and I questioned if I belonged 
there. Where were all the women? Where are the female library direc-
tors or leaders in their libraries?

Atla functions as a hub for connecting me to colleagues and as a 
mechanism for professional development. As I have gotten to know 



Panel Presentation 69

more and more Atla members, Atla has evolved to be even more a 
place of friendship and camaraderie.

I do hope to see Atla and all of us grow and think critically, just as 
we ask our students to do, about who we are as librarians, especially 
in a predominantly White and Christian profession and organization. 
I hope we can answer questions about the ways we need to evolve to 
better serve our patrons and how we can think more critically of our 
positions of authority, with whatever privilege our personal identi-
ties bring to the table.

What do you want from Atla?
In general, I am looking for support in my professional growth. 
This takes the form of trainings, workshops, conferences, and other 
forms of professional development, but it also takes the form of a 
robust network of colleagues who I can turn to in order to brain-
storm, generate new ideas, and grow with. This ask of all of you as 
colleagues is much more nebulous and undefined than my asks of 
Atla as an organization, so I’ll focus on the latter:  

My asks can be summed up by saying that I’m not sure what my 
future holds and I don’t know if I want to be a director, but I am look-
ing for support for future growth, especially in developing leader-
ship skills.

In order to receive this support from Atla, I would love to see the 
resurrection of the Wabash Colloquy. I know Atla is working on this, 
but regardless of when it happens, I would like to see the develop-
ment of meaningful immersive, community-building training expe-
riences around four topics:

1. Leadership, supervisory, & managerial training. What are the 
skills that transcend library types (e.g., seminary versus public 
university); what can help someone be a leader in their librar-
ies, whether or not they want to be a director or a supervisor?

2. Research support training, both faculty librarians and those 
pushing the needle to make research in the profession more 
rigorous and exploring how to inquire in new ways, especially 
by integrating technology into their research process or prod-
uct. Let’s be leaders in digital humanities, engaging in our own 
projects and also partnering with faculty as they engage in digi-



70  ATL A 2019 PROCEEDINGS

tal humanities. I would love to see a program like the immersive, 
week-long experience Institute for Research Design in Librari-
anship (IRDL) to support rigorous research design and learn-
ing research methodologies in theological and religious studies 
librarianship.

3. Tech skills and library trends. Atla has worked towards this 
with some webinars sponsored by the Professional Development 
Committee and also by hosting the ACRL Scholarly Communi-
cation Roadshow in Chicago. I would love to see more learning 
opportunities like this where we can connect with one another 
in person outside of the annual conference.

4. Support for the creation of regional groups. Maybe this would 
help fill that need for in-person connection over learning oppor-
tunities. I’m currently not a member of one, but Stephen Swee-
ney and I are investigating this for the Rocky Mountain region 
and we already have received great support from Atla to work 
on this.

That’s all for me. Thanks, all, for listening! 

CONCLUDING DISCUSSION

The panel concluded with a dialogue with the audience. The ques-
tion for the audience that shaped this conversation was, “How 
would you like to shape your participation in the Atla community 
going forward? What support systems and resources would foster 
your sense of identity as a theology and religious studies librar-
ian?” The presenters asked that the audience keep in mind the final 
three of Atla’s core values: “Hospitality, inclusion, and diversity,” 
“Collegiality and collaboration,” and “Creativity, innovation, and 
transformation.”10



Panel Presentation 71

ENDNOTES

1 Elmer J. and Betty O’Brien, “From Volunteerism to Corporate 
Professionalism: A Historical Sketch of the American Theologi-
cal Library Association,” in The American Theological Library Asso-
ciation: Essays in Celebration of the First Fifty Years, ed. M. Patrick 
Graham, Valerie Hotchkiss, and Kenneth E. Rowe (Evanston, IL: 
American Theological Library Association, 1996), 5.

2 Raymond P. Morris, “Theological Librarianship as a Ministry,” 
in A Broadening Conversation: Classic Readings in Theological 
Librarianship, ed. Melody Layton McMahon and David R. Stewart 
(Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2006), 8; Carisse Mickey 
Berryhill, review of A Broadening Conversation: Classic Readings in 
Theological Librarianship, by Melody McMahon and David Stewart, 
The Library Quarterly: Information, Community, Policy 77, no. 2 (April 
2007): 250, https://doi.org/10.1086/517851

3 “About Atla: Collectors & Connectors in Religion & Theology,” 
Atla, https://www.atla.com/about/.

4 “About Phillips,” Phillips Theological Seminary, https://www.
ptstulsa.edu/about-us/.

5 “Resolution Opposing Restriction of Access to Materials and 
Open Inquiry in Ethnic and Cultural Studies Programs in 
Arizona,” Intellectual Freedom Blog: The Office for Intellectual 
Freedom of the American Library Association, https://www.oif.
ala.org/oif/?p=3157.

6 Email message to author, March 26, 2012.
7 “Vision, Purpose, & Values,” Atla, https://www.atla.com/vision-

purpose-values/.
8 “Mission & Organizational Ends,” Atla, https://www.atla.com/

about/mission/.
9 “Explore Our Religion & Theology Collections,” Atla, https://

dl.atla.com/.
10 Atla, “Vision, Purpose, & Values.” 

https://doi.org/10.1086/517851
https://www.atla.com/about/
https://www.ptstulsa.edu/about-us/
https://www.ptstulsa.edu/about-us/
https://www.oif.ala.org/oif/?p=3157
https://www.oif.ala.org/oif/?p=3157
https://www.atla.com/vision-purpose-values/
https://www.atla.com/vision-purpose-values/
https://www.atla.com/about/mission/
https://www.atla.com/about/mission/
https://dl.atla.com/
https://dl.atla.com/

