More on advocacy...

I could get paid peanuts for what I do, way less than what I deserve. Oh, wait... I already make peanuts for what I do.

Today, a patron came in looking for our director to whom she had spoken with previously. I explained that, it being Sunday, our director probably would not be in. Probably ought to have an appointment to assure meeting with her.

So, the patron explained why she was here. She was taking part in a public speaking contest for adults where the given topic was- to paraphrase- public opinion and where it relates to the local library. She decided she would benefit from talking to my coworker and I, both reference librarians.

And so, here and there over the course of about a half hour, my coworker and I spilled out our hearts about why we are relevant. We detailed all the job seekers that can get internet access at the local coffee house or bookstore, how the local career center or the community center can help too. But we weren't bashful to sell the fact that those job seekers more often than not come to the library to get the same access- with the added benefit that we will never say no. We'll always be there to go the extra step. We'll remember them by their first name, we'll recognize what they want the minute we see their faces. We'll take time out of a busy day to ease their distress.

We offer them classes and we don't stick a tip jar out on the desk for the service. And they take advantage of it. Adult learners offer us more on a personal level than we ever knew when we first went to grad school to become librarians. And if we recognize their diversity and we challenge ourselves, we come to the realization that we can form lasting bonds with people and groups all over the community. All over the state. All over the country.

I wouldn't trade what I do for anything. I'll do this for the rest of my working life. This is my calling.

Friday Follies

What is it about librarianship that makes it the only job of over a dozen I've had since age 17 that makes me not second guess why I'm still there 20 minutes after I'm supposed to get off?

Let's be clear- I'm not salaried. I have no incentive to keep hanging in there after the bell rings. When I worked at the pizza place in high school and we got a last-minute ticket that I knew meant delivering would keep me an extra 15-20 minutes past my clockout time, I usually took it poorly. Well, unless maybe the order belonged to a cadre of females whose pants I wanted to get inside of. I approved those. Remember, too, I was 17.

There is a profound sense of duty attached to working in a library. You don't think so for the first few months of working in a public library, but after a while you become almost a community figurehead. Like a teacher or a cop or a trial lawyer maybe, your name and face are associated with more and more day-to-day interactions with various people. It gets to where a lot of patrons ask for you by name.

I don't consider it charity work, though in a way we go out of our way to ease misery using information. Today I had a pretty sharp older female patron who needed assistance with this and that. She was atypical for someone her age in that in each transaction she got it right away and her pride didn't allow us to do the work for her. She needed print-outs, she needed to get to this web site, she wanted us to look this and that up for her. No big deal at all, that's our job.

So I am to get off at 5. I'm talking with the lady, who has everything wrapped up. The time is 4:50. I am explaining to her how you can attach and e-mail files to yourself as a means of saving a hard copy of a file, especially if you aren't carrying a memory device. She tells me how she has an e-mail account through her internet service provider at home but doesn't know how to use it. I take the time to sit her back down and we got her signed up for a Yahoo! free account and I show her a few features.

Now it's about 5:15. I'm working for free at this point. But I'm not angry. Unless we have really pressing issues, librarians do this all the time. The lady was happy and when she comes back I'll have more to show her. I made a friend.

That's why we stay late.

Where there's smoke, there's more patrons.

Well, normally Wednesday nights are no thing. I came in to teach a basic mouse/keyboarding class to ten enthusiastic patrons. I love teaching. It's a way to really do a lot of things. One, it creates relationships between librarian and patron. If they like me then they often ask for me by name when they come back. I encourage them to. Also, it is a terrific program for advocating library services. It sweeps in a variety of adult patrons who then go and tell their families and friends about the no-cost service that was just offered to them. And good advocacy grows exponentially.

And what is advocacy? It's everyday people holding up signs saying how much the library means to their community when decision makers consider taking things away from the library. It's everyday people calling and writing letters to complain about those decision makers making bad decisions.

Which leads to my next point. So class ends and I return to the reference desk around 5:00 p.m. It's generally slow, and for the next hour my teammate and I go about our tasks, make a pot of coffee like normal, and chit chat about the mundane like normal too.

Then comes 6:00 p.m. It's like a shit storm from that point until we close at 8:00. It seems the middle School, which is directly up the hill and abuts the library property has sent a homework assignment out that has certain students putting a Power Point presentation together. Great, eh? We can handle that, librarians all know at least a little about Power Point.

Not when about a dozen of them wait until the last day to get it done! Seriously, kids and parents. Don't wait until the last day and the last 2 hours before the library closes. I should really call their teacher(s) and rat their asses out for being so lazy. You don't get to procrastinate until you've earned the right to!

I've never seen such a tidal wave of patrons since at least last week. I am happy to help with your Power Point, but when you bring your mom along for the ride and she bitches on your behalf about the library closing at 8:00 and "where else can he get this done before tomorrow?" I feel no sympathy at that point. AND, I get the privilege of dealing with our favorite completely paranoid and mentally ill patron (I'll dub her Martha to protect her identity). Martha likes to come in a half hour before closing with all of her possessions with her because she thinks various people go through her house and steal her belongings. She totes 2-3 full pieces of rolling luggage with her every time she comes in.

Can there be no order? Why do all you people have to come in in the last 2 hours the library is open, when it is expected that things actually die down instead of ramp up? I want to help, I'm obligated to help. But there are only two of us to serve 20-30 people coming in at a constant stream. And my partner is elderly, moves slow, and fears emerging technologies including the internet like Bengali people fear cholera.

But here is the overriding paradigm: this is all in the name of advocacy. If we go out there like Starship Troopers and we squash the bug, and we truly kick ass and we help people make it in life, those people talk. We know that. Everyone talks. And they come back. And it makes our jobs harder. But they keep coming back and they keep talking about how great the library is. And they drop names. Superficially it's a pretty thankless job. But it's not. You reap the rewards for helping people at some point.