Not the End, Just a Plot Twist: Reflections on My Residency

And just like that... my residency is coming to a close, and it's not the end of the world, just a twist of the plot.

Initially, my residency was set to end in August of 2026, but the whole point of my residency was to assist me with my transition into academic librarianship. I've definitely accomplished that goal. From the moment I saw the job posting I knew this residency was for me.

"Clemson Libraries seeks a collaborative and inclusive library degree holder who is looking for their first professional academic librarian position... The residency is designed to match your professional interests and goals with the service and strategic priorities of the Libraries outlined in our upcoming revised Strategic Plan, which is also aligned with the university-wide Strategic Plan. You will have the opportunity to tailor the residency and develop goals according to your professional interests..."

When I came to Clemson, I was excited for an opportunity to let my worlds collide. To be an artist, librarian, and techie in the same stratosphere. I wanted to know where I should go in librarianship with the hopes of becoming a Performing Arts or Africana Studies Librarian. Should I stay in academia, or should I go back to public libraries? The road was long, tough, and not what I expected. Overall, it got me right where I wanted to be with some surprises along the way.

My first year was all about exploration. I rotated through departments, shadowed instruction librarians, and absorbed as much as I could. I sat in on English 1030 courses, Skillshops, and Special Collections classes, watching different teaching styles and slowly building my own confidence as an instructor. I found myself supporting students in unexpected ways too—helping with Adobe tools, answering AI questions, and even leading virtual workshops for my former public library, Mid-Continent, with over 50 participants for my Write a Novel in a Year course. Beyond teaching, I dove into research and creative work, submitting poetry, articles, and even collaborating on projects like the Affrilachian Research Bibliography. It was a year of saying yes, testing boundaries, and discovering the shape of my librarian identity. It was tough to have the freedom to create my own schedule, but that also gave me the opportunity to explore.

The early months were also difficult. I was thrown into Adobe work without much choice, faced tension with a colleague, and saw firsthand how DEI language didn’t always match reality. An incident happened between the library with a Republican student group that made it apparent I was, in the South, that though the library celebrated DEI the institution does not, and that staying would mean that a lot of things I wanted to see would have to pivot and not disrupt the ecosystem. It became clear that thriving here meant finding support systems beyond the libraries.

While at times my residency felt a bit isolating my supervisor, who understood the challenges recommended the Commission groups on campus very early one so I took it upon myself to join some of these groups on campus. It was in these groups that I found solace and understanding about the institution at large. One of the groups, the Commission on the Black Experience was how I learned more about the deep history of blacks on campus that went beyond some of the more whitewashed tours given by counterparts at the university. It was that Commission as well as the Commission of Latino affairs that rejuvenated me with their writing retreat during my first summer at Clemson. Being in a space where it is only people of color is a unexplainable comfort when you are surrounded by communities that don't look like you. The Women's Commission was another group where I was able to connect with others on campus and learn more through their workshops and lunches. To have groups like these were instrumental in my time at Clemson so it is disappointing that they have been ended last month with the university saying, "The commissions have successfully fulfilled their important charge..." as a former employee, I would say these groups are more important now than ever before. These spaces for connection and identity made all the difference, which is why their closure feels like a loss not just for me but for the institution.

​By my second year, I had transitioned from observer to leader. I taught several English 1030 literacy sessions, developed an oral history workshop series in partnership with other organizations, and even had professors request me personally for summer instruction. I pushed myself further into research, publishing creative and scholarly work, presenting at conferences, and collaborating with colleagues across institutions. Service became a bigger part of my professional life, too—from chairing the ACRL RIG Social Media & Web Communications Team to serving on Clemson search committees and judging student competitions. But what truly anchored me was my time in Special Collections and Archives. When I felt departmentless, the archives team gave me a sense of home. Working alongside such a phenomenal group, I discovered a love for archival work I hadn’t fully expected. Whether assisting at the reference desk, helping with processing projects, or lending my creativity to the podcast, I found both purpose and community. Their trust and collaboration showed me that archives are not just about preservation—they’re about people, memory, and voice. That sense of belonging gave me the grounding I needed to push through uncertainty and continue exploring all that Clemson had to offer. What surprised after that  was how all my worlds—creative writing, African American studies, archives, and librarianship—began to merge into one.

Along the way, I began working part-time as a Tech Center Library Assistant at Greenville County Public Library, and that experience reminded me how much I had missed the customer service side of librarianship. I thrive in spaces where I can interact with people directly—answering questions, helping them navigate resources, or just listening to their stories. Outreach events especially light me up, because they allow me to bring the library to the community in creative and meaningful ways. That role gave me a chance to reconnect with the part of myself that loves being on the frontlines, building relationships, and making sure every person feels seen and supported when they walk through the doors. It was the perfect reminder that no matter where I land, my work has always been about people first.

As I watched the other resident in the program, I knew the final step would be keeping an eye on job boards—not just for any position, but for the right one. I wasn’t looking for a role to simply fill time; I wanted something that blended all the aspects of librarianship I had come to love: archives, outreach, instruction, research, and creativity. Just as importantly, I wanted a position that would challenge me to keep growing while offering a supportive, JEDI-centered environment where inclusion and equity aren’t just buzzwords but values lived out every day. And of course, I hoped for permanence—a place where I could truly plant roots and build something lasting. And I found just that.

​And now, as I close this chapter, I’m stepping into the dream position I’ve been working toward: joining Brown University as the Global Black Studies Librarian. This residency gave me space to grow, stumble, stretch, and thrive. It helped me see not only where I fit in librarianship, but also how I can shape the field with the unique mix of art, technology, and storytelling that I bring. I leave Clemson with gratitude for the experiences and relationships that carried me here—and with excitement for what’s to come. The journey has only just begun.