Ah, JABSOM—the John A. Burns School of Medicine. A place where future doctors learn how to perform life-saving procedures while simultaneously Googling symptoms like the rest of us. And now, in their hallowed halls, a new high priestess of footnotes has arrived: Carolyn Dennison, freshly anointed as the Director of the Library.
Yes, that’s right. It’s not just any library. It’s the library. The sacred shrine where medical students pretend to study but really scroll TikTok until their scrubs reek of stress and instant ramen. And now, Carolyn is here to keep them all in line, making sure no one leaves without citing at least three peer-reviewed articles and a condescending “per my last email.”
Let’s unpack this announcement, shall we? Because if there’s one thing academia loves more than grant money, it’s overhyping routine staffing changes like the Second Coming.
The Myth of the “New Era”
So JABSOM issued a proud announcement: “JABSOM Welcomes New Library Director, Carolyn Dennison.”
Cue the confetti cannons. Because apparently, in academia, hiring a librarian is not just HR—it’s a cultural revolution. You’d think they discovered penicillin again.
The press release hits all the tropes. Carolyn is “experienced.” She “brings a long history.” She worked at Hamilton Library at UH Mānoa. Translation: She’s seen things. Dark things. Nursing students crying into coffee cups. Dental hygiene majors wielding floss like nunchucks. Public health kids feverishly looking up “epidemiology but make it sexy” on JSTOR.
Before that, she did time at The Queen’s Medical Center and the Hawaiʻi Medical Library. A veritable medical library triathlon. Honestly, if you can survive Hamilton Library’s basement without losing your will to live, you can handle anything JABSOM throws at you.
The Unexpected Path of a Librarian
Now here’s where it gets spicy: Carolyn didn’t plan to be a librarian.
Her background? American history with a minor in Russian and Soviet history.
Of course. Because when you think “cutting-edge medical librarian,” you obviously think “Cold War archives.” Imagine asking her for help on a cardiology research paper and she hands you a declassified memo about Khrushchev’s cholesterol levels.
She even dreamed of working in a presidential library. But alas, there are only so many dusty Reagan memos to alphabetize, and Carolyn wasn’t about to abandon Hawaiʻi for some Midwestern bunker of Watergate tapes. So she fell—gracefully—into the world of medical libraries. Or as she politely phrased it: “It was a fortuitous opportunity.”
Translation: “They offered me a paycheck, and I took it.”
Why Libraries Still Matter (Even When AI is Louder)
Dennison’s manifesto is clear: Students should come to the library instead of relying on AI.
Cue every medical student rolling their eyes while ChatGPT writes their “pathophysiology reflection essay” in 0.3 seconds.
But she has a point. She warns: “It’s easy to plug something into AI, but you don’t always know where the information is coming from or how it’s being processed.”
Right. Because if there’s one thing students want at 3 a.m., it’s to evaluate metadata, provenance, and the epistemological scaffolding of a citation. Nothing says “Friday night fun” like comparing PubMed to a hallucinating chatbot.
Her solution? Use the library to “strengthen critical thinking skills.”
Which is academic-speak for: “You’re all too lazy to fact-check, so I’ll babysit your sources until you learn not to cite BuzzFeed in a dissertation.”
The Staff: Saints in Cardigans
Dennison graciously notes that the library’s greatest strength is its staff. And she’s not wrong. Librarians are the unsung heroes of academia—the Gandalf figures who stand between confused undergrads and the abyss of bad search queries.
Medical students: “I need an article about liver disease.”
Librarian: “Do you want pediatric hepatology, autoimmune hepatitis, cirrhosis, or a treatise on why alcohol exists as humanity’s worst decision?”
And while students might never remember their names, those staff members will quietly spend hours rescuing them from the purgatory of “no results found.”
Filling the Empty Chair
Dennison’s first official goal? Hire an instruction librarian.
Of course. Because nothing screams excitement like filling a vacant position in academia. This is basically the administrative equivalent of fixing a leaky ceiling tile. Necessary, but no one’s lighting fireworks over it.
But hey, maybe this new instruction librarian will be the chosen one—the Neo of PubMed—able to teach students how to wrangle databases without crying.
The Long Game: AI… But Make It Bureaucratic
Dennison also says she’s “interested in exploring how AI might improve library services.”
This is how you know she’s officially an academic administrator: skeptical of AI, but also eager to sprinkle it into a strategic plan so it looks futuristic.
You can practically see the PowerPoint slide now:
“Leveraging AI to Enhance Library User Engagement: A Five-Year Plan.”
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Step 1: Write “AI” everywhere.
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Step 2: Hold a committee meeting.
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Step 3: Buy overpriced software no one uses.
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Step 4: Students still Google everything anyway.
The Eternal Plea: “Please Talk to Us”
Dennison ends with a humble appeal: “The library is here to serve faculty, staff, and students, but we need feedback to do that well. Our doors, and our email inboxes, are always open.”
Ah yes. Feedback. The mythical beast every administrator hunts for but never actually wants.
Because let’s be honest: 95% of student “feedback” will be:
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“Can you make the Wi-Fi not suck?”
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“Can the printers work for once?”
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“Can you keep the library open later so we can cry in peace?”
But bless her optimism. Every new director thinks feedback will be constructive. Give it six months and she’ll be deleting emails that start with, “So, like, can we get a Keurig in the stacks?”
Why This Matters (Or Doesn’t)
At the end of the day, JABSOM has a new library director. And while that may not sound like front-page news, in the strange, self-congratulatory bubble of academia, it’s practically a royal coronation.
Carolyn Dennison, librarian turned accidental medical education warrior, now sits on the throne of PDFs, guiding frazzled med students through the labyrinth of citations while reminding everyone that, shockingly, AI doesn’t know everything.
Is it life-changing? Maybe not. But will Carolyn probably save a dozen students from citing WebMD in their dissertations? Absolutely.
And for that, she deserves both respect and hazard pay.
Snarky Takeaways
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Every library director appointment is treated like the moon landing. Calm down—it’s HR, not Apollo 11.
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History majors end up everywhere. One day you’re dreaming of a presidential library, the next you’re wrangling med students who think Google Scholar is “good enough.”
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AI is the villain and the savior. Librarians hate it, administrators hype it, and students just want it to do their homework.
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Feedback is code for complaints. Carolyn, brace yourself. You’ll get more printer rage than useful suggestions.
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Librarians are the true heroes. They wield MeSH terms like weapons, and they don’t get nearly enough credit.
Final Word
So here’s to Carolyn Dennison, new guardian of JABSOM’s academic soul. May her reign be filled with fewer printer jams, more students who actually know what “peer-reviewed” means, and at least one glorious victory against the eternal scourge of “I found it on Wikipedia.”
Because in the end, medical breakthroughs may save lives, but it’s the librarians who make sure the footnotes don’t kill us.