It was a strange Monday at the Branch, maybe because so many people are doing their holiday shopping. But those shoppers seem to have attacked the malls early, because the people who didn't visit the library in the morning did come during the afternoon. Since the crowds weren't spread out during the course of the day, as they usually are on a Monday, this meant that the lines were so long that we weren't able to breathe between patrons. It was a straight rush....reference and circ and circ and reference.....constant lines filled with people who had already spent so much time standing on line at the stores. There was no patience, no tolerance for a staff member taking a deep breath, or grabbing a quick seat....I'm exhausted.
But we survived. It's almost five o'clock and it's dark outside. Almost time to go home.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
A Movie The Day Before Thanksgiving?!
Every Wednesday, a colleague and I show movies at the library. Three times a month, we show a feature film; on the third Wednesday, I show an independent film. Usually, we have a fairly large audience - that is, an audience that is large enough to justify the funds that we spend on our movie license.
I have to admit, though, that I was wondering what we were thinking when we decided to show a movie today - the day before Thanksgiving. After all, most people are busy cooking, preparing to cook, dreaming of visiting rarely-seen family members, en route to their destination, or packing for the long trip. The books and DVDs that most people deem essential to the long weekend have already been borrowed, and there are few patrons in the library. When I asked the the movie-goers two weeks ago whether they'd be attending today, most people shook their heads.
I berated myself for scheduling a movie today, of all days, particularly since I've planned library programs for ten years. My experience should have taught me not to schedule programs so close to holidays! Canceling the movie was unthinkable, since fliers were posted and an announcement had already appeared in the local newspapers. I knew that we were going to have to set up the cumbersome movie equipment, only to have to remove it when the 2:00 start time passed without a single person waiting to watch the movie. I braced myself.
Instead, I was given a tremendous surprise, as fifteen people walked into the meeting room just in time for us to begin the movie. Have they already cooked their sweet potatoes, string bean casserole, or cranberry relish? Are their houses already cleaned for their guests? Or maybe they're traveling to their children's homes early tomorrow, bringing only a simple side dish that was prepared this morning, and are eager to do something to pass the time until they see their grandchildren again.
It doesn't matter. What is important is the fact that this program was a success, not a failure, that we've once again been able to provide an enjoyable program for our patrons, that setting up our laptop, projector, and speakers was not a waste of time. Sometimes, I guess, we are surpised. It's a great feeling. And a great way to begin the Thanksgiving weekend.
I have to admit, though, that I was wondering what we were thinking when we decided to show a movie today - the day before Thanksgiving. After all, most people are busy cooking, preparing to cook, dreaming of visiting rarely-seen family members, en route to their destination, or packing for the long trip. The books and DVDs that most people deem essential to the long weekend have already been borrowed, and there are few patrons in the library. When I asked the the movie-goers two weeks ago whether they'd be attending today, most people shook their heads.
I berated myself for scheduling a movie today, of all days, particularly since I've planned library programs for ten years. My experience should have taught me not to schedule programs so close to holidays! Canceling the movie was unthinkable, since fliers were posted and an announcement had already appeared in the local newspapers. I knew that we were going to have to set up the cumbersome movie equipment, only to have to remove it when the 2:00 start time passed without a single person waiting to watch the movie. I braced myself.
Instead, I was given a tremendous surprise, as fifteen people walked into the meeting room just in time for us to begin the movie. Have they already cooked their sweet potatoes, string bean casserole, or cranberry relish? Are their houses already cleaned for their guests? Or maybe they're traveling to their children's homes early tomorrow, bringing only a simple side dish that was prepared this morning, and are eager to do something to pass the time until they see their grandchildren again.
It doesn't matter. What is important is the fact that this program was a success, not a failure, that we've once again been able to provide an enjoyable program for our patrons, that setting up our laptop, projector, and speakers was not a waste of time. Sometimes, I guess, we are surpised. It's a great feeling. And a great way to begin the Thanksgiving weekend.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Programs, Programs, and More Programs (and a Problem)
During the past few weeks, hardly a day has passed in which I didn't have a program scheduled. This week, "my" Writers' Circle met on Tuesday, I showed the monthly independent film today, and I have a sing-along to Broadway showtunes tomorrow. As I've written in previous posts, I enjoy scheduling and publicizing various events, bringing people into the library, but now I'm exhausted - and I'm looking forward to a quiet day on Friday.
This afternoon I panicked when, while I was setting up the cumbersome equipment for the movie, the presenter for my Broadway showtunes program unexpectly entered the meeting room, quickly introduced herself to me, and asked to test the piano. Much to my dismay, she pronounced it "broken," untuned and problematic in the foot pedals. Nearly hysterical, she informed me that the audience would be extremely disappointed unless we could repair it before the 2:00 event. While I was trying to digest this information, and untangling the wires for the film projector and the laptop, another staff member informed me that a presenter for yet another possible program was returning my telephone call (naturally, our longstanding game of telephone tag was destined to continue, since I couldn't possibly take the call at that time).
I spoke to our Branch Manager about the piano situation. After gently admonishing me for failing to ensure that the instrument was tuned prior to the event (I admit that I had simply taken this for granted), she asked another employee to obtain the names of piano tuners from the staff at our Main Branch. Unfortunately, none of the specialists she called were able to come to the library at a moment's notice. This means that tomorrow I'll be in the embarrassing position of apologizing to our audience (which will, according to our registration sheet, consist of approximately 35 people).
I'm trying to assure myself that our patrons will enjoy themselves despite the apparently unmusical quality of the instrument (not being the least bit musical in any sense, I can't distinguish between a tuned piano and an untuned piano). I'll have to wait until 2:00 tomorrow to determine whether my guess is correct (unless, by some miracle, a piano-tuner suddenly arrives to rescue me tomorrow morning). But now, more than ever, I am looking forward to Friday.
This afternoon I panicked when, while I was setting up the cumbersome equipment for the movie, the presenter for my Broadway showtunes program unexpectly entered the meeting room, quickly introduced herself to me, and asked to test the piano. Much to my dismay, she pronounced it "broken," untuned and problematic in the foot pedals. Nearly hysterical, she informed me that the audience would be extremely disappointed unless we could repair it before the 2:00 event. While I was trying to digest this information, and untangling the wires for the film projector and the laptop, another staff member informed me that a presenter for yet another possible program was returning my telephone call (naturally, our longstanding game of telephone tag was destined to continue, since I couldn't possibly take the call at that time).
I spoke to our Branch Manager about the piano situation. After gently admonishing me for failing to ensure that the instrument was tuned prior to the event (I admit that I had simply taken this for granted), she asked another employee to obtain the names of piano tuners from the staff at our Main Branch. Unfortunately, none of the specialists she called were able to come to the library at a moment's notice. This means that tomorrow I'll be in the embarrassing position of apologizing to our audience (which will, according to our registration sheet, consist of approximately 35 people).
I'm trying to assure myself that our patrons will enjoy themselves despite the apparently unmusical quality of the instrument (not being the least bit musical in any sense, I can't distinguish between a tuned piano and an untuned piano). I'll have to wait until 2:00 tomorrow to determine whether my guess is correct (unless, by some miracle, a piano-tuner suddenly arrives to rescue me tomorrow morning). But now, more than ever, I am looking forward to Friday.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
2009 Programs
I'm currently searching for attention-grabbing programs for January and February. Cooking demonstrations and de-cluttering seminars are possibilities. I'm also looking toward the far future: applying for another grant to host our Jewish Book Discussion Series (which has been a phenomenal success for the past two years) in the fall of 2009.
More importantly, I'm preparing for a personal event: the birth of my second son in March. Although it's still early, I'm trying to tie up loose ends before my maternity leave.
Returning to work after my first son was born was heart-wrenching. I cried throughout my drive to the library. This time will be just as traumatic, I'm sure.
But I'm not going to plan that far ahead. Yet.
More importantly, I'm preparing for a personal event: the birth of my second son in March. Although it's still early, I'm trying to tie up loose ends before my maternity leave.
Returning to work after my first son was born was heart-wrenching. I cried throughout my drive to the library. This time will be just as traumatic, I'm sure.
But I'm not going to plan that far ahead. Yet.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Politics at Work
At our last staff meeting, the Branch Manager politely asked us to refrain from heated political discussions. It's true that one shouldn't discuss politics at work; the heated arguments that often ensue can result in seriously damaged (or, in the worst cases, irreparable) working relationships. This is particularly the case when one is working with the public; we've been told not to discuss the election with our patrons (I can only imagine where those disagreements would lead!).
Still, it's nearly impossible not to express one's political views in this exciting time, when the debate about who will be the next United States President dominates the media. The number of extremists, people who will resort to drastic measures to ensure that "their" candidate is elected (or simply to guarantee that the other candidate loses) on each side is also petrifying, and is itself the topic of many conversations.
And it will be even more difficult to refrain from discussing the election on November 5, when many of us will be cheering and many of us will be dressed in mourning. But professionalism will dictate that we keep our opinions to ourselves. And that's as it should be. Because, despite the comfort of our working environment, despite the often too-familiar attitudes of our patrons, we are professionals.
Still, it's nearly impossible not to express one's political views in this exciting time, when the debate about who will be the next United States President dominates the media. The number of extremists, people who will resort to drastic measures to ensure that "their" candidate is elected (or simply to guarantee that the other candidate loses) on each side is also petrifying, and is itself the topic of many conversations.
And it will be even more difficult to refrain from discussing the election on November 5, when many of us will be cheering and many of us will be dressed in mourning. But professionalism will dictate that we keep our opinions to ourselves. And that's as it should be. Because, despite the comfort of our working environment, despite the often too-familiar attitudes of our patrons, we are professionals.
Still Struggling, But Better
The last time I wrote, which was in August, I was feeling fairly down about my professional life (as you could tell if you read the article!). Months later, I'm feeling more optimistic about librarianship, although I'm currently struggling to schedule programs for January. And I have to admit that my mind still isn't completely at work; it can't be, since I need to care for my son and the baby on the way.
My lack of sleep, my forty-minute commute, and my busy personal life leave me no energy to concentrate. Not only is this the case at work; it's also true of the passions that once defined me - reading and writing. Being in-between novels for so long is frustrating, yet I'm finding it difficult to discover one that absorbs me (I recently returned two to the library unfinished). And writing - when was the last time that I did that?
I've accepted this situation - at least for now. But I know that eventually I'll have to somehow find the energy to throw myself into work or into a hobby again; otherwise, I'll truly be unhappy.
My lack of sleep, my forty-minute commute, and my busy personal life leave me no energy to concentrate. Not only is this the case at work; it's also true of the passions that once defined me - reading and writing. Being in-between novels for so long is frustrating, yet I'm finding it difficult to discover one that absorbs me (I recently returned two to the library unfinished). And writing - when was the last time that I did that?
I've accepted this situation - at least for now. But I know that eventually I'll have to somehow find the energy to throw myself into work or into a hobby again; otherwise, I'll truly be unhappy.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
It's Been A While.......
I haven't written in a while. I've been so preoccupied with personal matters that my professional life has slipped to the back of my mind (despite the fact that I've been at work nearly every day). Simultaneously, I've also been a bit restless at the library, as though the changes in my personal life have somehow led me to also question my happiness at work.
I want this blog to focus on the minute, every-day aspects of librarianship, both the positive and the negative situations, and the truth is that in the past month I've encountered more of the latter than the former. I've coped with more difficult patrons, more "Ms. Nastys," than I have in my previous thirteen years in the field. It's been depressing. And I haven't had the heart, or the energy, to write about those times.
I'm sure that everyone experiences a phase in which they become restless with their positions, in which they question what they're doing and where their future lies. But it's uncomfortable, and I'm looking forward to actually having something positive to write about again.
I'm taking a much-needed break next week. Perhaps ten days away will give me the fresh perspective that I need.
I want this blog to focus on the minute, every-day aspects of librarianship, both the positive and the negative situations, and the truth is that in the past month I've encountered more of the latter than the former. I've coped with more difficult patrons, more "Ms. Nastys," than I have in my previous thirteen years in the field. It's been depressing. And I haven't had the heart, or the energy, to write about those times.
I'm sure that everyone experiences a phase in which they become restless with their positions, in which they question what they're doing and where their future lies. But it's uncomfortable, and I'm looking forward to actually having something positive to write about again.
I'm taking a much-needed break next week. Perhaps ten days away will give me the fresh perspective that I need.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Award Nomination
This morning I received a huge surprise; my colleagues had nominated me for the New Staff Member Award! This award is given to a staff member who "demonstrates exemplary service" to patrons within his first two years of employment with the library. "Exemplary service" includes a commitment to ensuring that patrons receive the information that they need, scheduling new, creative programs, and marketing the library with enthusiasm. Although the winner of the New Staff Member Award was announced at our recent Staff Day, I feel honored to have been nominated.
I am so fortunate to work with such caring, thoughtful people.
I am so fortunate to work with such caring, thoughtful people.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Ahhh....Real Reference
What a fantastic morning it was. Mondays are usually busy, but today was a special kind of busy, a sweet treat. The library was filled not only with patrons checking out and returning materials, but also with what has become a rarity - people needing research assistance.
Actually, I shouldn't say that reference questions have become a "rarity;" we haven't quite reached that point (and, in all honesty, I don't believe that we will). We still receive them regularly, but never do they come as frequently as they did today. It felt great; I love the challenge of answering real research questions, of solving a mystery for someone, of improving a person's day. Using my love for research to help people - it's the reason that I entered the library profession.
Who did I work with today?
- An older gentleman searching for a recent article on aortic valve replacement,
frustrated that he was unable to locate it through Google
- A woman concerned about the stability of Wachovia Bank
- An art major who needed criticism of Matisse's paintings
- A man who wanted the contact information for a postcard publishing company in
West Nyack, New York (the organization had merged with a similar company in
in Missouri years ago)
- A disabled woman who had been diagnosed with cancer. She wanted to know if there
is a "best" state for people with her condition to live in. Her doctor had
suggested that she leave New Jersey.
I love the variety. Every day should be like this one!
Actually, I shouldn't say that reference questions have become a "rarity;" we haven't quite reached that point (and, in all honesty, I don't believe that we will). We still receive them regularly, but never do they come as frequently as they did today. It felt great; I love the challenge of answering real research questions, of solving a mystery for someone, of improving a person's day. Using my love for research to help people - it's the reason that I entered the library profession.
Who did I work with today?
- An older gentleman searching for a recent article on aortic valve replacement,
frustrated that he was unable to locate it through Google
- A woman concerned about the stability of Wachovia Bank
- An art major who needed criticism of Matisse's paintings
- A man who wanted the contact information for a postcard publishing company in
West Nyack, New York (the organization had merged with a similar company in
in Missouri years ago)
- A disabled woman who had been diagnosed with cancer. She wanted to know if there
is a "best" state for people with her condition to live in. Her doctor had
suggested that she leave New Jersey.
I love the variety. Every day should be like this one!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Ms. Nasty
On Thursday, just before I left for the long holiday weekend, I had the great misfortune to deal with the worst patron I've ever encountered (and I've been working in public libraries for thirteen years). I'm going to call her Ms. Nasty, because only an insane person would marry a woman of such temperament. I'd use more colorful language to describe her, but I want this blog to maintain some professionalism.
Before I begin to describe my interaction with Ms. Nasty, I need to explain that our procedures differ from those of many other libraries. Our staff works as a team; the circulation staff answers basic reference questions, and the librarians perform some circulation functions. Patrons appreciate this system because it's a time-saver; usually, they don't have to wait to speak to one particular employee. Only if they ask an in-depth reference question, or have a question regarding a heavy fine, do they need to speak to a librarian or to a supervisor.
When the phone rang that fateful morning, I gave our customary greeting: "______ Branch Library. How may I help you?" Immediately a storm of rage roared at me from the caller. Why didn't I identify myself and my department? Every library in the world has employees who do that! She didn't know who she was speaking with! Who was answering the phone? How did she know that she had the right department?!
Had Ms. Nasty phrased her questions in a more civil manner, I'd have been happy to explain our procedures to her. And I did try. But that only made her more furious. Her tone was condescending, as though she were reprimanding a child. What was even more offensive, though, was the fact that she was loud and yes, downright abusive. When I attempted to pacify her by acknowledging that I would pass on her suggestions to a supervisor and asking her to tell me her question, she snapped "I'm not finished yet. You don't understand what I'm saying!"
When she had finally exhausted her energy, she told me the real reason that she had called the library: she simply wanted a telephone number for a municipal department in a neighboring town. Even as I searched the Web for the information, I tried to joke with her. But Ms. Nasty refused to respond. As soon as I gave her the phone number, she hung up on me.
Barely concealing my own anger, I told my colleague that I needed to leave the desk. Few patron interactions bring me to that level (most, of course, are friendly and pleasant, otherwise no one would remain in public service for long). But at that moment, as I was shaking and seething, every patron around me resembled Ms. Nasty. I had to escape. I ran out the door, moved as far away from the building as I possibly could, and screamed at the top of my lungs.
When I calmed down enough to return, I mentioned Ms. Nasty to every staff member I encountered. Apparently, she had "discussed" our procedures with two other employees prior to my own conversation with her. What this woman didn't realize was that her question could have easily been answered by the first person who answered the phone - but her superior, condescending attitude resulted in quite a bit of wasted time (and extreme fury).
Later, as I thought about the encounter, I wondered why I had tolerated Ms. Nasty. We need to respect our patrons, but our patrons also need to respect us. The unwritten customer service code of ethics does not demand that we tolerate abuse.
What I should have said, politely but firmly, was "I'm very busy at the moment. Please call back when you are ready to have a civil conversation," and hung up the phone. Other, less polite phrases - including the truthful ("The professional credentials of the staff member who is trying to assist you are not your business") -come to mind, too. My anger at my own willingness to appease Ms. Nasty - a person who very clearly did not want to be appeased - grew almost as great as my fury at the patron. Not only did she enjoy the satisfaction of repeatedly insulting me and the library while I timidly apologized, she received the answer to her question.
Perhaps at the time I was so livid that I could not control my emotions enough to give a "polite but firm" answer. Maybe if I had responded to Ms. Nasty rather than tolerating her, I would have lost my temper - and hence behaved both unprofessional and as reprehensibly as she had. It may have been better that I didn't react. But it still hurts that I didn't.
Dear Ms. Nasty,
Your behavior toward the library staff on Thursday, July 3, was unacceptable. Just as our employees are expected to show courtesy to the patrons they assist, our library users are expected to treat our staff members with respect. Service will not be provided to those who demonstrate anything less.
Should you have questions regarding library procedures, you must discuss them in a calm, rational manner with the staff. Screaming, demanding, and similar actions will not be tolerated.
Sincerely,
The Supervisor of the ___________ Branch Library
Before I begin to describe my interaction with Ms. Nasty, I need to explain that our procedures differ from those of many other libraries. Our staff works as a team; the circulation staff answers basic reference questions, and the librarians perform some circulation functions. Patrons appreciate this system because it's a time-saver; usually, they don't have to wait to speak to one particular employee. Only if they ask an in-depth reference question, or have a question regarding a heavy fine, do they need to speak to a librarian or to a supervisor.
When the phone rang that fateful morning, I gave our customary greeting: "______ Branch Library. How may I help you?" Immediately a storm of rage roared at me from the caller. Why didn't I identify myself and my department? Every library in the world has employees who do that! She didn't know who she was speaking with! Who was answering the phone? How did she know that she had the right department?!
Had Ms. Nasty phrased her questions in a more civil manner, I'd have been happy to explain our procedures to her. And I did try. But that only made her more furious. Her tone was condescending, as though she were reprimanding a child. What was even more offensive, though, was the fact that she was loud and yes, downright abusive. When I attempted to pacify her by acknowledging that I would pass on her suggestions to a supervisor and asking her to tell me her question, she snapped "I'm not finished yet. You don't understand what I'm saying!"
When she had finally exhausted her energy, she told me the real reason that she had called the library: she simply wanted a telephone number for a municipal department in a neighboring town. Even as I searched the Web for the information, I tried to joke with her. But Ms. Nasty refused to respond. As soon as I gave her the phone number, she hung up on me.
Barely concealing my own anger, I told my colleague that I needed to leave the desk. Few patron interactions bring me to that level (most, of course, are friendly and pleasant, otherwise no one would remain in public service for long). But at that moment, as I was shaking and seething, every patron around me resembled Ms. Nasty. I had to escape. I ran out the door, moved as far away from the building as I possibly could, and screamed at the top of my lungs.
When I calmed down enough to return, I mentioned Ms. Nasty to every staff member I encountered. Apparently, she had "discussed" our procedures with two other employees prior to my own conversation with her. What this woman didn't realize was that her question could have easily been answered by the first person who answered the phone - but her superior, condescending attitude resulted in quite a bit of wasted time (and extreme fury).
Later, as I thought about the encounter, I wondered why I had tolerated Ms. Nasty. We need to respect our patrons, but our patrons also need to respect us. The unwritten customer service code of ethics does not demand that we tolerate abuse.
What I should have said, politely but firmly, was "I'm very busy at the moment. Please call back when you are ready to have a civil conversation," and hung up the phone. Other, less polite phrases - including the truthful ("The professional credentials of the staff member who is trying to assist you are not your business") -come to mind, too. My anger at my own willingness to appease Ms. Nasty - a person who very clearly did not want to be appeased - grew almost as great as my fury at the patron. Not only did she enjoy the satisfaction of repeatedly insulting me and the library while I timidly apologized, she received the answer to her question.
Perhaps at the time I was so livid that I could not control my emotions enough to give a "polite but firm" answer. Maybe if I had responded to Ms. Nasty rather than tolerating her, I would have lost my temper - and hence behaved both unprofessional and as reprehensibly as she had. It may have been better that I didn't react. But it still hurts that I didn't.
Dear Ms. Nasty,
Your behavior toward the library staff on Thursday, July 3, was unacceptable. Just as our employees are expected to show courtesy to the patrons they assist, our library users are expected to treat our staff members with respect. Service will not be provided to those who demonstrate anything less.
Should you have questions regarding library procedures, you must discuss them in a calm, rational manner with the staff. Screaming, demanding, and similar actions will not be tolerated.
Sincerely,
The Supervisor of the ___________ Branch Library
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Are You Open Tomorrow?
I understand when patrons ask us whether we're open on holidays such as Veterans' Day and Election Day. After all, some municipal offices, banks, and schools close on those days; others remain open. They're federal holidays, but are not necessarily celebrated by everyone.
But the Fourth of July?! The fact that the library is closed tomorrow should be obvious. American citizens will be celebrating the nation's birth with barbecues, day trips, and fireworks. Of course we'll be closed!!
Although we have posted signs noting our one-day closure (and assuring the public that we will be open on Saturday), we've been receiving a surprising number of inquiries. Thankfully, though, no one has complained.
But the Fourth of July?! The fact that the library is closed tomorrow should be obvious. American citizens will be celebrating the nation's birth with barbecues, day trips, and fireworks. Of course we'll be closed!!
Although we have posted signs noting our one-day closure (and assuring the public that we will be open on Saturday), we've been receiving a surprising number of inquiries. Thankfully, though, no one has complained.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Ways That They React
Working with the public, in any capacity, has to be the most interesting way to spend one's days. Only through interacting with different people on a daily basis can one become aware of - and amazed by - the variety of personalities that human beings possess.
I'm thinking about the ways in which people react when they're told that they have to pay a fine.
It is a pleasure to work with those who approach the desk and, in response to the question "How can I help you?" reply candidly that "I'd like to pay a fine on my card" or "I'm returning this book, and I think that I owe a fine on it." These responses are not only made by people who owe fifteen cents; many times people with a twenty-five dollar fine on their record (and therefore currently unable to borrow materials) are just as likely to admit their mistakes, want to pay their debt, and continue to use the library. They are the most satisfying interactions.
But then there are the others.
Our staff informs patrons about fines as soon as we notice them. The moment that we scan their library cards and see their record on the screen the computer alerts us that they owe a fine. It is our responsibility to say, lightly, "Did you know that you have a fine on your card?" Then, as long as the amount is under twenty-five dollars, we inform them that they don't have to pay at that particular moment.
While some people are gracious, laugh lightly, and dig the change out of their pockets or their purses, others have a different reaction. For example, I recently had a conversation with a woman named Caroline, a woman who was perfectly friendly when I searched for a book for her, but hardened when I told her about her - gasp - one-dollar fine.
"It looks like you have a dollar fine on your card," I said as I was about to scan the books that she wanted to borrow.
"For what?" Caroline snapped.
"For two DVDs that were returned late. They were each a day overdue." I turned the screen so that she could see her record.
The elderly lady standing next to Caroline (who was not with Caroline, but was waiting to check out her own materials) looked shocked. "You charge fifty cents a day for late movies? That's expensive!"
I decided that it was unwise to tell her that we had recently reduced our late fees from one dollar a day to fifty cents a day. Nor did I say that those who return their movies on time - or who call to renew them - don't pay a fine at all. I turned my attention back to Caroline.
Now even more aware of a great sense of injustice, Caroline puffed.
"I remember returning those DVDs. On time. I put them in the bookdrop. I always return my library materials on time."
I sighed inwardly. Arguing about fines is not my favorite aspect of providing library service (not many library employees would claim that it is, I imagine), and is one reason - albeit a small one - that I far prefer assisting with a reference question. I certainly couldn't respond as I wished - with a gentle reminder that anyone could claim that they always return their materials by the due date. Nor was one dollar worth risking the loss of a library user.
"All right," I replied. "I'll waive the fine for you this time. But please be sure to check your receipts for the due date in the future, okay?"
"I will. Thank you," Caroline walked off with a smile.
My interaction with Caroline, as briefly uncomfortable as it was, is just one example of how excited people become at the very idea of owing the library (of all places!) money. Waiving one dollar is not a big deal (although if every staff member did so, every day, the library would certainly lose much-needed money!). Needless to say, I call a supervisor for assistance if I need to question whether I should waive a fine, or if a patron becomes absolutely incensed (oh, how happy I am that I'm not a supervisor!).
Later, I checked out DVDs to a patron named Mark.
"You have a book that's overdue," I told him when I saw his record. "Would you like me to renew it for you?"
"What book is it?" he asked.
"A book by Fern Michaels," I showed him the screen.
"I never took out that book."
Okay. "Is it possible that someone else used your card?"
"No."
Well, then. "All right. Why don't I go check the shelf to see if the book is there?"
"Thank you. I'd appreciate it."
Sure enough, the item was not in the stacks.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't see it. According to our system, the book is not in the building. I'll renew it for you. Please look at home. Sometimes people find things that they had forgotten to return."
"I'll do that, but I know that I never took it out." Mark gathered his DVDs and left.
Perhaps Mark was right that he had never borrowed the book, that a staff member accidentally checked it out on his card rather than on that of the person who was actually borrowing the book. That seems unlikely, though. And as I mentioned earlier, although we are often inclined to act in the patron's favor, I wonder at the consequences of continuously doing so. Although Caroline and Mark may very well be honest people, many others are not - and those people, too, can easily claim that an item checked out on their card was never actually checked out to them, or that they returned the items on time.
I'm thinking about the ways in which people react when they're told that they have to pay a fine.
It is a pleasure to work with those who approach the desk and, in response to the question "How can I help you?" reply candidly that "I'd like to pay a fine on my card" or "I'm returning this book, and I think that I owe a fine on it." These responses are not only made by people who owe fifteen cents; many times people with a twenty-five dollar fine on their record (and therefore currently unable to borrow materials) are just as likely to admit their mistakes, want to pay their debt, and continue to use the library. They are the most satisfying interactions.
But then there are the others.
Our staff informs patrons about fines as soon as we notice them. The moment that we scan their library cards and see their record on the screen the computer alerts us that they owe a fine. It is our responsibility to say, lightly, "Did you know that you have a fine on your card?" Then, as long as the amount is under twenty-five dollars, we inform them that they don't have to pay at that particular moment.
While some people are gracious, laugh lightly, and dig the change out of their pockets or their purses, others have a different reaction. For example, I recently had a conversation with a woman named Caroline, a woman who was perfectly friendly when I searched for a book for her, but hardened when I told her about her - gasp - one-dollar fine.
"It looks like you have a dollar fine on your card," I said as I was about to scan the books that she wanted to borrow.
"For what?" Caroline snapped.
"For two DVDs that were returned late. They were each a day overdue." I turned the screen so that she could see her record.
The elderly lady standing next to Caroline (who was not with Caroline, but was waiting to check out her own materials) looked shocked. "You charge fifty cents a day for late movies? That's expensive!"
I decided that it was unwise to tell her that we had recently reduced our late fees from one dollar a day to fifty cents a day. Nor did I say that those who return their movies on time - or who call to renew them - don't pay a fine at all. I turned my attention back to Caroline.
Now even more aware of a great sense of injustice, Caroline puffed.
"I remember returning those DVDs. On time. I put them in the bookdrop. I always return my library materials on time."
I sighed inwardly. Arguing about fines is not my favorite aspect of providing library service (not many library employees would claim that it is, I imagine), and is one reason - albeit a small one - that I far prefer assisting with a reference question. I certainly couldn't respond as I wished - with a gentle reminder that anyone could claim that they always return their materials by the due date. Nor was one dollar worth risking the loss of a library user.
"All right," I replied. "I'll waive the fine for you this time. But please be sure to check your receipts for the due date in the future, okay?"
"I will. Thank you," Caroline walked off with a smile.
My interaction with Caroline, as briefly uncomfortable as it was, is just one example of how excited people become at the very idea of owing the library (of all places!) money. Waiving one dollar is not a big deal (although if every staff member did so, every day, the library would certainly lose much-needed money!). Needless to say, I call a supervisor for assistance if I need to question whether I should waive a fine, or if a patron becomes absolutely incensed (oh, how happy I am that I'm not a supervisor!).
Later, I checked out DVDs to a patron named Mark.
"You have a book that's overdue," I told him when I saw his record. "Would you like me to renew it for you?"
"What book is it?" he asked.
"A book by Fern Michaels," I showed him the screen.
"I never took out that book."
Okay. "Is it possible that someone else used your card?"
"No."
Well, then. "All right. Why don't I go check the shelf to see if the book is there?"
"Thank you. I'd appreciate it."
Sure enough, the item was not in the stacks.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't see it. According to our system, the book is not in the building. I'll renew it for you. Please look at home. Sometimes people find things that they had forgotten to return."
"I'll do that, but I know that I never took it out." Mark gathered his DVDs and left.
Perhaps Mark was right that he had never borrowed the book, that a staff member accidentally checked it out on his card rather than on that of the person who was actually borrowing the book. That seems unlikely, though. And as I mentioned earlier, although we are often inclined to act in the patron's favor, I wonder at the consequences of continuously doing so. Although Caroline and Mark may very well be honest people, many others are not - and those people, too, can easily claim that an item checked out on their card was never actually checked out to them, or that they returned the items on time.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Program That Wasn't
I've written about this topic before, but it's such a huge aspect of working in a public library (affecting nearly every workday) that I'm going to blog about it again.
Programming is an immensely rewarding aspect of library life - when the events draw a large audience and lots of praise from the participants (a pat on the back from one's supervisor doesn't hurt, either). Of course, I hadn't been out of library school very long when I discovered that it is extremely difficult to convince our adult patrons that the library offers special events for them. After all, the library has been offering storytimes for children since the institution was born; providing seminars, concerts, and craft demonstrations for adults is a much more recent development that continues to surprise many patrons. But the challenge of programming is what makes it so satisfying.
I recently held a program that, despite my initial optimism, did not go well. It was a pottery demonstration, held on what should have been a busy Thursday afternoon (Thursdays are usually busy because our patrons get to keep DVDs for an extra day; our branch is closed on Sundays). Thinking that the demonstration would be a drop-in program, I arranged for it to take place on the main floor of the library rather than in our meeting room. Because the artist would be visible to every patron, the program would attract people who hadn't seen the flyers or read the newspapers, people who had visited the library only to borrow books or DVDs.
Unfortunately, the result was not what I had imagined. Six people, who had heard about the demonstration from flyers, arrived just prior to the start of the program and remained for the entire two hours. Another person joined the "crowd" later. But none of the patrons who were in the library for other reasons paused to watch.
Although our extremely talented artist was accepting (even claiming that she liked having a small audience, since it gave her the opportunity to answer more questions), I was embarrassed and disappointed. I shouldn't have taken it personally, but I had devoted time to finding an artist, scheduling the event on what I had felt was an appropriate day and time, creating flyers and press releases, navigating the bureaucratic maze to arrange for the artist's $150 fee - and I had honestly believed that our patrons would enjoy it. Quilting and painting demonstrations had been well-received; why shouldn't a pottery demonstration be equally successful? The thought that our film festivals draw a crowd, but that people would not come to the library to watch a piece of artwork being created, both frustrated and amused me.
But there was also some satisfaction in the knowledge that having an audience at a library program depends on many factors. We always take a chance when we schedule an event, realizing that personal errands or the weather may keep people away. I hadn't publicized the event any differently from the way that I'd publicized those programs that had drawn a crowd (in fact, I promoted it even more, sending flyers to other branches). The lack of an audience just - happened.
I'm looking forward to arranging future programs - and trying again.
Programming is an immensely rewarding aspect of library life - when the events draw a large audience and lots of praise from the participants (a pat on the back from one's supervisor doesn't hurt, either). Of course, I hadn't been out of library school very long when I discovered that it is extremely difficult to convince our adult patrons that the library offers special events for them. After all, the library has been offering storytimes for children since the institution was born; providing seminars, concerts, and craft demonstrations for adults is a much more recent development that continues to surprise many patrons. But the challenge of programming is what makes it so satisfying.
I recently held a program that, despite my initial optimism, did not go well. It was a pottery demonstration, held on what should have been a busy Thursday afternoon (Thursdays are usually busy because our patrons get to keep DVDs for an extra day; our branch is closed on Sundays). Thinking that the demonstration would be a drop-in program, I arranged for it to take place on the main floor of the library rather than in our meeting room. Because the artist would be visible to every patron, the program would attract people who hadn't seen the flyers or read the newspapers, people who had visited the library only to borrow books or DVDs.
Unfortunately, the result was not what I had imagined. Six people, who had heard about the demonstration from flyers, arrived just prior to the start of the program and remained for the entire two hours. Another person joined the "crowd" later. But none of the patrons who were in the library for other reasons paused to watch.
Although our extremely talented artist was accepting (even claiming that she liked having a small audience, since it gave her the opportunity to answer more questions), I was embarrassed and disappointed. I shouldn't have taken it personally, but I had devoted time to finding an artist, scheduling the event on what I had felt was an appropriate day and time, creating flyers and press releases, navigating the bureaucratic maze to arrange for the artist's $150 fee - and I had honestly believed that our patrons would enjoy it. Quilting and painting demonstrations had been well-received; why shouldn't a pottery demonstration be equally successful? The thought that our film festivals draw a crowd, but that people would not come to the library to watch a piece of artwork being created, both frustrated and amused me.
But there was also some satisfaction in the knowledge that having an audience at a library program depends on many factors. We always take a chance when we schedule an event, realizing that personal errands or the weather may keep people away. I hadn't publicized the event any differently from the way that I'd publicized those programs that had drawn a crowd (in fact, I promoted it even more, sending flyers to other branches). The lack of an audience just - happened.
I'm looking forward to arranging future programs - and trying again.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Mr. Samson's Dilemma
On Saturday, an older gentleman named Mr. Samson approached the Reference Desk and asked for assistance. He explained that he wanted to complete a job application for a major big-box retail chain. However, when he asked for an application at the nearest store, he was told that he would need to fill it out online. Paper forms were no longer available.
There was just one problem. Mr. Samson does not know how to use a computer.
Because our branch serves a large senior population, we encounter this situation consistently. Company executives, thinking that "everyone" is Internet-savvy (or at least that "everyone" has a friend who is willing to assist them with the Web), have stopped supplying hard copies of job applications. What this means is that many older adults, who are already encountering age discrimination in the workforce, now cannot even apply for positions because they lack the skills to complete the forms online.
It is, to me, another form of discrimination.
In an ideal world, every public library would have a staff that is large enough to accommodate those who need one-on-one assistance. Many do offer librarian-by-appointment service, but ours is among the many more that cannot. We have a student assistant who is available to meet with individuals on Saturday mornings, but she will be away during the summer. We also offer computer classes, but it could be some time before he progresses from the "Basic Mouse" to the "Beginner's Internet" course. Mr. Sampson, wanting to move forward with his job search, cannot possibly wait. For him, the process of completing the online application would most likely be made even more complicated by the fact that he would have to supply an e-mail address - which he would first have to create.
Why don't companies understand that at this time not everyone is familiar with the Internet? In twenty years, probably. In thirty years, for certain. But in 2008 there are still many people who would like to be employed who do not have computer skills (and the positions for which they are applying to do require computer usage). If the companies don't wish to maintain stacks of paper applications, which is understandable, then their staff should be able to access an online application and print it out for a specific individual. To require every applicant to fill out an online form is unrealistic and, as I mentioned earlier, discriminatory.
So what did I tell Mr. Samson? I explained, politely and apologetically and truthfully (while concealing my wrath at the company) that the library is unable to provide someone to assist him in completing the job application. I then suggested that he contact our local senior center. It's not the first time that I referred a patron to the senior center for this type of information. Despite his frustration, Mr. Samson seemed satisfied - but I wasn't.
There was just one problem. Mr. Samson does not know how to use a computer.
Because our branch serves a large senior population, we encounter this situation consistently. Company executives, thinking that "everyone" is Internet-savvy (or at least that "everyone" has a friend who is willing to assist them with the Web), have stopped supplying hard copies of job applications. What this means is that many older adults, who are already encountering age discrimination in the workforce, now cannot even apply for positions because they lack the skills to complete the forms online.
It is, to me, another form of discrimination.
In an ideal world, every public library would have a staff that is large enough to accommodate those who need one-on-one assistance. Many do offer librarian-by-appointment service, but ours is among the many more that cannot. We have a student assistant who is available to meet with individuals on Saturday mornings, but she will be away during the summer. We also offer computer classes, but it could be some time before he progresses from the "Basic Mouse" to the "Beginner's Internet" course. Mr. Sampson, wanting to move forward with his job search, cannot possibly wait. For him, the process of completing the online application would most likely be made even more complicated by the fact that he would have to supply an e-mail address - which he would first have to create.
Why don't companies understand that at this time not everyone is familiar with the Internet? In twenty years, probably. In thirty years, for certain. But in 2008 there are still many people who would like to be employed who do not have computer skills (and the positions for which they are applying to do require computer usage). If the companies don't wish to maintain stacks of paper applications, which is understandable, then their staff should be able to access an online application and print it out for a specific individual. To require every applicant to fill out an online form is unrealistic and, as I mentioned earlier, discriminatory.
So what did I tell Mr. Samson? I explained, politely and apologetically and truthfully (while concealing my wrath at the company) that the library is unable to provide someone to assist him in completing the job application. I then suggested that he contact our local senior center. It's not the first time that I referred a patron to the senior center for this type of information. Despite his frustration, Mr. Samson seemed satisfied - but I wasn't.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Collections
For the past two years, I've worked in a twenty-one branch library system. I had taken a step down from my previous position as Head of Reference in a municipal library in order to concentrate on nonsupervisory tasks - reference, programming, and teaching computer classes. I quickly discovered that the bureaucracy in a county-wide system is vastly different from that of a one-building facility (how could it not be?), but I adjusted to my new environment and learned the system's policies and procedures.
I have no regrets about the career change that I made; in fact, I'm still awed by the number of departments (and hence, the vast array of opportunities) that the system offers. Nevertheless, this morning I found myself musing with a colleague about one vital aspect of librarianship that I miss performing - collection development.
For the sake of efficiency, the ordering and processing of materials for the entire system is conducted by staff members whose offices are housed in our main library. Because it's important to maintain consistency, particularly in such a large organization, this procedure is understandable. And yet, there is something missing. Something missing from the inability of the staff at each branch (who know their users' needs much better than a central committee every could) to decide for themselves what should and should not be purchased. Something missing from the vague procedure in which librarians can submit handwritten requests for more books on particular topics to the collection development staff - a process which allows no room for follow-up. And something missing professionally - for what is more gratifying than selecting the materials that our patrons read, watch, and listen to?
I have no regrets about the career change that I made; in fact, I'm still awed by the number of departments (and hence, the vast array of opportunities) that the system offers. Nevertheless, this morning I found myself musing with a colleague about one vital aspect of librarianship that I miss performing - collection development.
For the sake of efficiency, the ordering and processing of materials for the entire system is conducted by staff members whose offices are housed in our main library. Because it's important to maintain consistency, particularly in such a large organization, this procedure is understandable. And yet, there is something missing. Something missing from the inability of the staff at each branch (who know their users' needs much better than a central committee every could) to decide for themselves what should and should not be purchased. Something missing from the vague procedure in which librarians can submit handwritten requests for more books on particular topics to the collection development staff - a process which allows no room for follow-up. And something missing professionally - for what is more gratifying than selecting the materials that our patrons read, watch, and listen to?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Friday at 5:00 (or, "The Man")
It was Friday at 5:00 - closing time. As I've explained numerous times to our patrons, most public libraries simply don't have the funding that would enable them to remain open late on the weekends and our building, like most others in the state, closes at 5:00 on Fridays.
Admittedly, the rush to leave the building on the part of the staff (both librarians and paraprofessionals) is almost tangible; it can certainly be felt by our patrons. Nevertheless, we don't shut our doors before 5:00. Sometimes this means stifling our desire for freedom from work while a lingering patron checks out a book or pays for printouts, but we always abide by our policy. Still, unlike retail stores, where employees remain to complete business after the last customer has left, we tend to follow our last patron out the door.
At just after 5:00 this past Friday, I had gotten into my car when I was approached by a man carrying DVDs and videos. He was so close to my car that I had to roll down the window in order to talk to him.
"Excuse me," he said. "Do you work here?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Well, it's not 5:00 yet."
I checked the clock inside my car. "It's just after 5:00."
"I was bringing back all these DVDs and videos. I don't want to get charged for them!"
"I'm sorry, sir," I responded firmly. "They had to have been returned before 5:00 in order for you to avoid fines. I can't reopen the building."
The man's tone, which had been filled with anger before, became even more aggressive. "Well, who can I talk to about this? I was here before 5:00!"
I thought for a moment. "You can speak to someone on Monday." (It was after 5:00 on Friday, I was not working on the weekend, and in my own preoccupation with the upcoming two days off, I didn't think to tell him that he could come in the next day!)
"What about tomorrow?" he growled.
I nodded eagerly. "Yes, you can certainly come in tomorrow."
At that point the man, thankfully pacified, turned away. Fortunately, a colleague of mine, who had witnessed the entire interaction, mentioned to the man that she was working the next day. She told him to bring his materials to her in the morning, and she would waive his fines.
It was not my best customer service moment, and I thought about the interaction as I drove home. I was brief, bordering on hostile, and unsympathetic. And though my workday was over, I was still, at the moment, representing the library to the man who wanted to enter the building. Ouch.
And yet, as I've told several staff members, the public library is the only setting in which a user would feel entitled to approach an employee who is already in her car to argue about a particular policy. How many customers would approach a store manager or clerk after the store has closed for the day? This patron's gall, above all, is what angered me and caused me to lose the customer service skills that I have developed over the course of so many years. Nor is it the first time that I've had a "conversation" with a patron after hours.
We need to have respect for our patrons, but our patrons also need to have respect for us and for the library's policies. Unfortunately, too many people fail to recognize that and believe that, because they are taxpayers, they have certain entitlements - that established policies and procedures don't apply to them. This man should have paid his fines, but we are often willing to waive fines (particularly if they are low) in order to avoid ostracizing a patron. That I accept and agree with. But he should have simply waited until Saturday to explain his situation to the staff, rather than approach me as I was prepared to drive away from the building.
Admittedly, the rush to leave the building on the part of the staff (both librarians and paraprofessionals) is almost tangible; it can certainly be felt by our patrons. Nevertheless, we don't shut our doors before 5:00. Sometimes this means stifling our desire for freedom from work while a lingering patron checks out a book or pays for printouts, but we always abide by our policy. Still, unlike retail stores, where employees remain to complete business after the last customer has left, we tend to follow our last patron out the door.
At just after 5:00 this past Friday, I had gotten into my car when I was approached by a man carrying DVDs and videos. He was so close to my car that I had to roll down the window in order to talk to him.
"Excuse me," he said. "Do you work here?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Well, it's not 5:00 yet."
I checked the clock inside my car. "It's just after 5:00."
"I was bringing back all these DVDs and videos. I don't want to get charged for them!"
"I'm sorry, sir," I responded firmly. "They had to have been returned before 5:00 in order for you to avoid fines. I can't reopen the building."
The man's tone, which had been filled with anger before, became even more aggressive. "Well, who can I talk to about this? I was here before 5:00!"
I thought for a moment. "You can speak to someone on Monday." (It was after 5:00 on Friday, I was not working on the weekend, and in my own preoccupation with the upcoming two days off, I didn't think to tell him that he could come in the next day!)
"What about tomorrow?" he growled.
I nodded eagerly. "Yes, you can certainly come in tomorrow."
At that point the man, thankfully pacified, turned away. Fortunately, a colleague of mine, who had witnessed the entire interaction, mentioned to the man that she was working the next day. She told him to bring his materials to her in the morning, and she would waive his fines.
It was not my best customer service moment, and I thought about the interaction as I drove home. I was brief, bordering on hostile, and unsympathetic. And though my workday was over, I was still, at the moment, representing the library to the man who wanted to enter the building. Ouch.
And yet, as I've told several staff members, the public library is the only setting in which a user would feel entitled to approach an employee who is already in her car to argue about a particular policy. How many customers would approach a store manager or clerk after the store has closed for the day? This patron's gall, above all, is what angered me and caused me to lose the customer service skills that I have developed over the course of so many years. Nor is it the first time that I've had a "conversation" with a patron after hours.
We need to have respect for our patrons, but our patrons also need to have respect for us and for the library's policies. Unfortunately, too many people fail to recognize that and believe that, because they are taxpayers, they have certain entitlements - that established policies and procedures don't apply to them. This man should have paid his fines, but we are often willing to waive fines (particularly if they are low) in order to avoid ostracizing a patron. That I accept and agree with. But he should have simply waited until Saturday to explain his situation to the staff, rather than approach me as I was prepared to drive away from the building.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Reference Question of the Day
Sometimes reference questions make sense, and sometimes they just don't.
This morning, a woman called the library and asked for the home address of a man who is currently running for President of the United States. She gave me the city and the state in which she believes this man resides. When I replied that this might not be public information, she yelled "BUT I'M AN AMERICAN CITIZEN, MA'AM!" (as if her status in the country would guarantee her the right to access private information).
I quickly clarified my response by telling her that I was willing to conduct the search, but couldn't guarantee that I would be able to find it. This seemed to satisfy her, somewhat. But when I suggested that she attempt to contact the candidate at his campaign headquarters, she snapped "Oh, don't give me that!"
The first website that I searched demanded a $2.95 fee for an address that belonged to someone whose name matched that of the presidential candidate (needless to say, the $2.95 charge was mentioned only after I spent several seconds typing in my search). Another site yielded five names and cities that may have been possible matches. I searched the candidate's website for additional information, then provided my patron with what I believed was the correct address (and I stressed that I believed it was the right address). I then politely asked the patron if she needed additional assistance (to which - thankfully - she replied "no."). And the conversation ended. Privately, I wished her luck in receiving a personal message from the possible future president.
Needless to say, I was ready for a break.
This morning, a woman called the library and asked for the home address of a man who is currently running for President of the United States. She gave me the city and the state in which she believes this man resides. When I replied that this might not be public information, she yelled "BUT I'M AN AMERICAN CITIZEN, MA'AM!" (as if her status in the country would guarantee her the right to access private information).
I quickly clarified my response by telling her that I was willing to conduct the search, but couldn't guarantee that I would be able to find it. This seemed to satisfy her, somewhat. But when I suggested that she attempt to contact the candidate at his campaign headquarters, she snapped "Oh, don't give me that!"
The first website that I searched demanded a $2.95 fee for an address that belonged to someone whose name matched that of the presidential candidate (needless to say, the $2.95 charge was mentioned only after I spent several seconds typing in my search). Another site yielded five names and cities that may have been possible matches. I searched the candidate's website for additional information, then provided my patron with what I believed was the correct address (and I stressed that I believed it was the right address). I then politely asked the patron if she needed additional assistance (to which - thankfully - she replied "no."). And the conversation ended. Privately, I wished her luck in receiving a personal message from the possible future president.
Needless to say, I was ready for a break.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Thing #23: The End of the Challenge (Not Really!)
I love to learn. In fact, my passion for learning is what led me to a career in librarianship. Whenever people ask me why I became a librarian, I reply "Because I have the chance to learn something new every day."
That's true if I receive a challenging reference question, if someone suggests a book that I just have to read, or if I attend a workshop. But often, in the midst of performing day-to-day tasks (i.e. - booking programs or creating bibliographies so that my patrons might learn something new), I miss the opportunity to learn myself.
And while I've been hard at work ensuring that the essential daily work gets accomplished, technology has changed (and will continue to do so). Patrons requested assistance to Web 2.0 programs that I'd never heard of, making me feel lost and - quite frankly - embarrassed. Of all the things that I could learn on the job, in an environment in which I have access to resources on every conceivable subject, the most important thing is learning how to keep up with my patrons - making sure that their informational and recreational needs are met by providing resources in every conceivable format.
That is why I'm grateful for this Challenge. I have truly learned a great deal. Working at my own pace, experimenting with something and then blogging about it, was at least three times more informational than a seminar. Now, I'll not only know the tools to which my patrons are referring, I may even be able to assist them in their use! I'll feel empowered, rather than embarrassed.
Of course, the use of the Web is going to continue to grow and change while I'm busy performing those everyday tasks. And when there is a Web 3.0, I hope that my library will provide me with another Challenge. In the meantime, I'll have to continue to learn on my own, taking responsibility for my own professional development, recognizing that doing so is the entire reason that I became a librarian in the first place. So the Challenge will - thankfully - never end. I'll continue to blog about my learning experiences.
As for these particular 23 "Things," there were many that I like, some that I will continue to use in my daily life, others whose purpose I understand and appreciate but will never use myself, still others that I was just frustrated with (i.e. - ListenNJ!). Del.icio.us, which provides the ability to carry one's favorite websites from computer to computer, is certainly a wonderful tool; I just don't use enough sites regularly to justify its use (I also need to learn where those periods go in that word; I can never remember).
As a parent, I definitely want to spend more time with flickr and the site minti, which won a Web 2.0 award. Peertrainer, another award recipient, will also be useful in my personal life. Bloglines and LibraryThing, which I've already used several times, are great methods of keeping track of my personal reading. Wikis, which I've become familiar with through my participation on a library committee, are terrific ways to communicate with other staff members - and should be utilized regularly (as should WorldCat).
So....I feel that I've come a long way, despite the fact that there were tools that I found less than useful (i.e. - Technorati). Some sites, such as NetLibrary and ListenNJ, I'll use only when it is necessary to assist a patron. But regardless of my own opinion of particular tools, it is essential that I, like all librarians, know about them; they are all
part of Library Life.
That's true if I receive a challenging reference question, if someone suggests a book that I just have to read, or if I attend a workshop. But often, in the midst of performing day-to-day tasks (i.e. - booking programs or creating bibliographies so that my patrons might learn something new), I miss the opportunity to learn myself.
And while I've been hard at work ensuring that the essential daily work gets accomplished, technology has changed (and will continue to do so). Patrons requested assistance to Web 2.0 programs that I'd never heard of, making me feel lost and - quite frankly - embarrassed. Of all the things that I could learn on the job, in an environment in which I have access to resources on every conceivable subject, the most important thing is learning how to keep up with my patrons - making sure that their informational and recreational needs are met by providing resources in every conceivable format.
That is why I'm grateful for this Challenge. I have truly learned a great deal. Working at my own pace, experimenting with something and then blogging about it, was at least three times more informational than a seminar. Now, I'll not only know the tools to which my patrons are referring, I may even be able to assist them in their use! I'll feel empowered, rather than embarrassed.
Of course, the use of the Web is going to continue to grow and change while I'm busy performing those everyday tasks. And when there is a Web 3.0, I hope that my library will provide me with another Challenge. In the meantime, I'll have to continue to learn on my own, taking responsibility for my own professional development, recognizing that doing so is the entire reason that I became a librarian in the first place. So the Challenge will - thankfully - never end. I'll continue to blog about my learning experiences.
As for these particular 23 "Things," there were many that I like, some that I will continue to use in my daily life, others whose purpose I understand and appreciate but will never use myself, still others that I was just frustrated with (i.e. - ListenNJ!). Del.icio.us, which provides the ability to carry one's favorite websites from computer to computer, is certainly a wonderful tool; I just don't use enough sites regularly to justify its use (I also need to learn where those periods go in that word; I can never remember).
As a parent, I definitely want to spend more time with flickr and the site minti, which won a Web 2.0 award. Peertrainer, another award recipient, will also be useful in my personal life. Bloglines and LibraryThing, which I've already used several times, are great methods of keeping track of my personal reading. Wikis, which I've become familiar with through my participation on a library committee, are terrific ways to communicate with other staff members - and should be utilized regularly (as should WorldCat).
So....I feel that I've come a long way, despite the fact that there were tools that I found less than useful (i.e. - Technorati). Some sites, such as NetLibrary and ListenNJ, I'll use only when it is necessary to assist a patron. But regardless of my own opinion of particular tools, it is essential that I, like all librarians, know about them; they are all
part of Library Life.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thing #22: ListenNJ
I have to confess that I like simplicity, particularly when it comes to technology. Give me easy-to-follow instructions and I will follow them and, most times, will complete them accurately. In the end, I'll even enjoy many of those tasks - as my blog posts about this Challenge have revealed.
But downloading the software in order to check a book out electronically via ListenNJ was not one of those simple tasks. In fact, attempting to download Overdrive Media Console - and then figuring out that I had to upgrade my Windows Media Player in order to accommodate this software - was so cumbersome that I wonder exactly how many patrons, in order to perform the same task, become frustrated and just give up. Surely it is much easier to just borrow an "old-fashioned" audiobook from the library.
I began to listen to Calvin Trillon's memoir About Alice, and I suppose that someone might have a desire to listen to a book via computer (or, more likely, an MP3 player) while performing other tasks. But, personally, I would still rather listen to a disc that one simply pops into a CD player. And I have to be honest: I'm surprised that the producers of ListenNJ have apparently ignored the constantly increasing demand for simplicity in technology.
But downloading the software in order to check a book out electronically via ListenNJ was not one of those simple tasks. In fact, attempting to download Overdrive Media Console - and then figuring out that I had to upgrade my Windows Media Player in order to accommodate this software - was so cumbersome that I wonder exactly how many patrons, in order to perform the same task, become frustrated and just give up. Surely it is much easier to just borrow an "old-fashioned" audiobook from the library.
I began to listen to Calvin Trillon's memoir About Alice, and I suppose that someone might have a desire to listen to a book via computer (or, more likely, an MP3 player) while performing other tasks. But, personally, I would still rather listen to a disc that one simply pops into a CD player. And I have to be honest: I'm surprised that the producers of ListenNJ have apparently ignored the constantly increasing demand for simplicity in technology.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Memorial Day Saturday
It's the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, and our library is open.
I have to admit that I have conflicting feelings about this. Of course, as someone who is eager to serve the public, who wants to promote the library as a source of recreation (especially considering the astronomical price of gas), I believe that the library should be open today.
That's the professional librarian in me. But there is another part of me, the wife and mother part, that yearns to be home with my family. Playing ball with my son and my husband. Pushing my boy on a swing. Taking a short drive somewhere. Chatting with my neighbors. Resting.
I can't feel overwhelmed with self-pity, though, because, after all, the workday ends at 5:00. The library is closed tomorrow and Monday. So, unlike the many unfortunate people working in retail, I will get a respite.
The librarian wins.
Yet I look around the building and notice how few people are taking advantage of our availability. I answered one reference question today. There have been few check-outs. Even computer usage has been slow, enabling me to permit those who are here to use the Internet for much longer time periods than they would ordinarily be allowed.
Is it worth being open?
I have to admit that I have conflicting feelings about this. Of course, as someone who is eager to serve the public, who wants to promote the library as a source of recreation (especially considering the astronomical price of gas), I believe that the library should be open today.
That's the professional librarian in me. But there is another part of me, the wife and mother part, that yearns to be home with my family. Playing ball with my son and my husband. Pushing my boy on a swing. Taking a short drive somewhere. Chatting with my neighbors. Resting.
I can't feel overwhelmed with self-pity, though, because, after all, the workday ends at 5:00. The library is closed tomorrow and Monday. So, unlike the many unfortunate people working in retail, I will get a respite.
The librarian wins.
Yet I look around the building and notice how few people are taking advantage of our availability. I answered one reference question today. There have been few check-outs. Even computer usage has been slow, enabling me to permit those who are here to use the Internet for much longer time periods than they would ordinarily be allowed.
Is it worth being open?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Thing #21: Podcasts
Podcasting, yet another Web 2.0 concept, seems as if it is a great way to receive information. In fact, if I'm fortunate enough to receive the MP3 player, I'll use it primarily to listen to podcasts.
I have to admit, though, that I'm beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. As much as I've enjoyed this Challenge, I'm ready to stop - for awhile, anyway. I told a colleague that technology is changing so quickly that we can't possibly keep up with all of it and perform our daily tasks. Nevertheless, I feel as if I've learned so much, and I'm grateful for that. I'll be a more knowledgeable librarian because of it!
Here is the link to a podcast that I may eventually subscribe to. Like the Web 2.0 Award-winning websites that I found, this podcast doesn't pertain to librarianship, except that it is a source of information.
Inside Out Weight Loss
I have to admit, though, that I'm beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. As much as I've enjoyed this Challenge, I'm ready to stop - for awhile, anyway. I told a colleague that technology is changing so quickly that we can't possibly keep up with all of it and perform our daily tasks. Nevertheless, I feel as if I've learned so much, and I'm grateful for that. I'll be a more knowledgeable librarian because of it!
Here is the link to a podcast that I may eventually subscribe to. Like the Web 2.0 Award-winning websites that I found, this podcast doesn't pertain to librarianship, except that it is a source of information.
Inside Out Weight Loss
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thing #20: YouTube
A simple one!
Here is a link to a video that describes one of the many exciting events that take place in a public library! This is further proof that the library has become a true community center.
(Welcome, Spring!)
Here is a link to a video that describes one of the many exciting events that take place in a public library! This is further proof that the library has become a true community center.
(Welcome, Spring!)
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Thing #19: Web 2.0 Awards
I never thought that I would become personally involved with Web 2.0 concepts. But, after exploring several of the sites that won Web 2.0 awards, I found myself eagerly registering for them! Aside from the fact that I'll be able to suggest them as resources to patrons, they have nothing to do with librarianship. Their subjects, however, have a huge impact on my private life.
The first site is peertrainer.com. For some time, I've been trying - and failing - to lose weight. Since I'm balancing a full-time job with raising a young child, I simply don't have the time to attend Weight Watchers meetings (something that worked well for me in the past!). What I need is support from other people, and peertrainer will definitely provide me with that (with the added benefits of anonymity and not needing to use valuable gas in order to drive to a meeting!).
Minti.com is the second site that I'll use regularly. What parent doesn't need the support and understanding of other parents?!
Finally, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I'll continue to use LibraryThing to track my reading and listening materials.
I'm so glad that I've discovered these resources! Thank you, Web 2.0 Challenge Committee!
The first site is peertrainer.com. For some time, I've been trying - and failing - to lose weight. Since I'm balancing a full-time job with raising a young child, I simply don't have the time to attend Weight Watchers meetings (something that worked well for me in the past!). What I need is support from other people, and peertrainer will definitely provide me with that (with the added benefits of anonymity and not needing to use valuable gas in order to drive to a meeting!).
Minti.com is the second site that I'll use regularly. What parent doesn't need the support and understanding of other parents?!
Finally, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I'll continue to use LibraryThing to track my reading and listening materials.
I'm so glad that I've discovered these resources! Thank you, Web 2.0 Challenge Committee!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
It Happened Again!
Ugghhhh.....For the second time, the laptop that I was using to show a movie "decided" to install automatic updates in the middle of the film!!! Fortunately, those in the audience were patient, but even so.....If the problem can't be fixed, then we'll have to resort to showing movies on our big-screen T.V. (but that "big" screen can't be compared to a movie screen!).
Just a quick vent.
Just a quick vent.
Thing #18: Web Apps
In an earlier blog post, I had admitted that there are some Web 2.0 features that I will most likely not use after this Challenge ends (del.icio.us is one example; I just don't use many websites on a regular basis). I may not use Google Docs or Zoho, either; it's not often that I work on a presentation with other staff members. When I'm not at the Desk, I'm usually working on my own projects.
But there is definite value in the online "office" packages. What a difference they make for people who are working jointly, In fact, they could also provide a great backup tool for documents that are saved to memory sticks (so I may have a use for them, after all!).
When I learned about the availability of these tools, I asked a colleague whether she believes that they will eventually replace the current Office packages. "Yes," she replied. "But not for a long time. The online forms don't contain all of the features that Office has."
But there is definite value in the online "office" packages. What a difference they make for people who are working jointly, In fact, they could also provide a great backup tool for documents that are saved to memory sticks (so I may have a use for them, after all!).
When I learned about the availability of these tools, I asked a colleague whether she believes that they will eventually replace the current Office packages. "Yes," she replied. "But not for a long time. The online forms don't contain all of the features that Office has."
Thing #17: "Playing in the Sandbox"
"Playing in the Wiki Sandbox" was an opportunity to have fun! I have to admit that I'm a bit strange; I usually do have fun at work. But this particular task gave me another chance to be creative (through exploring different font styles). At the same time, I was able to practice my image-uploading skills when I added the cover of my favorite book to the "box!"
Pbwikis are wonderful forums for sharing thoughts and ideas with co-workers. Certain wikis need to be restricted to specific groups, such as the employees of one particular company, in order to enable those people to discuss issues that are pertinent to them without worrying about an outsider intruding. Of course, this is not the case for all wikis (Wikipedia is one example of a valuable unrestricted wiki!)!
Pbwikis are wonderful forums for sharing thoughts and ideas with co-workers. Certain wikis need to be restricted to specific groups, such as the employees of one particular company, in order to enable those people to discuss issues that are pertinent to them without worrying about an outsider intruding. Of course, this is not the case for all wikis (Wikipedia is one example of a valuable unrestricted wiki!)!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Thing #16: Wikis
Wikis are terrific compilations of ideas. What makes Web 2.0 so wonderful is that anyone can contribute to the online publishing world; one doesn't have to be an experienced author, or have a specific educational background, to participate. Wikis epitomize this.
While I've been contributing to a wiki through a professional organization in which I'm involved, I didn't know about the Library Success wiki until I began to work on this "Thing." I think that it's a great idea. I agree with a statement that was made in one of its introductory paragaphs - that while there are many library-related blogs, the wiki is better for searching for specific ideas. The organization of the Library Success wiki into various categories - "Programming," "Services to Specific Groups," etc. - is fantastic; the user can jump directly to the section in which he is interested, rather than having to skim through other material first.
While I've been contributing to a wiki through a professional organization in which I'm involved, I didn't know about the Library Success wiki until I began to work on this "Thing." I think that it's a great idea. I agree with a statement that was made in one of its introductory paragaphs - that while there are many library-related blogs, the wiki is better for searching for specific ideas. The organization of the Library Success wiki into various categories - "Programming," "Services to Specific Groups," etc. - is fantastic; the user can jump directly to the section in which he is interested, rather than having to skim through other material first.
Friday, May 9, 2008
"Patron" vs. "Customer"
A quick thought.....
Referring to library users as "customers" seems to be a growing trend. To me, a "customer" is a person who shops in a retail environment. The term "patron" is not demeaning; on the contrary, it's respectful.
Referring to library users as "customers" seems to be a growing trend. To me, a "customer" is a person who shops in a retail environment. The term "patron" is not demeaning; on the contrary, it's respectful.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Thing #15: Library 2.0
Lately, I've been blogging about everything except our Web 2.0 Challenge! My hope for obtaining the MP3 player has diminished, but my desire to complete the Challenge has not. I'm going to do it on my own schedule, because I'm just not going to finish by May 30 (Oh, well....at least I'll learn!).
Library 2.0.....It's simply the twenty-first century way of expressing our long-standing purpose. Our mission has always been to ensure that our community has access to public library services. These services change, evolve, and expand along with our patrons' lives. Not only do we have to accept and adjust to new technology, Web 2.0 concepts, and the idea of the public library as a community center, we have to embrace them. If we don't, we will be left behind. And then we will certainly experience the demise of our profession.
But learning new skills and creating new services should be exciting, not daunting. As librarians, we encourage lifelong learning in others. We should love to do it ourselves. We need to do it ourselves if we are to continue to assist our patrons. After all, it is through this very process that we derive professional fulfillment.
Library 2.0.....It's simply the twenty-first century way of expressing our long-standing purpose. Our mission has always been to ensure that our community has access to public library services. These services change, evolve, and expand along with our patrons' lives. Not only do we have to accept and adjust to new technology, Web 2.0 concepts, and the idea of the public library as a community center, we have to embrace them. If we don't, we will be left behind. And then we will certainly experience the demise of our profession.
But learning new skills and creating new services should be exciting, not daunting. As librarians, we encourage lifelong learning in others. We should love to do it ourselves. We need to do it ourselves if we are to continue to assist our patrons. After all, it is through this very process that we derive professional fulfillment.
Seth
"I DON'T LIKE YOU. I DON'T LIKE YOU AT ALL!"
Seth, a member of our Writers' Circle and a patron I had worked with several times, didn't exactly shout these words at my colleague, but he spoke them so loudly that several patrons in the small building turned and stared. The outburst occurred after Seth stormed up to the desk and demanded to speak to "his leader" (referring to me). At the time I was so deeply involved in researching assisted living facilities with my patron that I simply ignored him. But I cringed when Amy gently reminded him that I was with someone, and Seth emitted a response that more polite people might think but would not say aloud.
Everyone who works with the public grows accustomed to assisting people whose behavior is - different. And Seth clearly has issues, though prior to his outburst at Amy he had never exhibited them to such an extent. Even as I continued to work quietly with my patron, concentrating on finding ratings of local residences for older people, I felt guilty, as if the fact that Seth wanted to talk to me made me responsible for his behavior. And my heart went out to Amy, who managed to recover from her shock quickly in order to assist other people.
When I was free to talk to Seth, I helped him obtain the information that he needed (directions to the county board of social services) - but made it clear that his outburst was unacceptable. "We need to have respect for you," I told him. "But you also need to have respect for us." Unfortunately, he didn't quite understand that it's not always necessary to express thoughts aloud. "I say what I feel," he responded. "There are some staff members that I like, but there are others that I don't."
I told the Head of Reference that we may have to be aware of Seth's actions, but I'm hoping that he'll manage to restrain himself in the future. Even if he manages to do so, however, someone else will surely cause a commotion - perhaps a worse one. Coping with these incidents (and we are thankful that there are few of them) is part of the job.
Seth, a member of our Writers' Circle and a patron I had worked with several times, didn't exactly shout these words at my colleague, but he spoke them so loudly that several patrons in the small building turned and stared. The outburst occurred after Seth stormed up to the desk and demanded to speak to "his leader" (referring to me). At the time I was so deeply involved in researching assisted living facilities with my patron that I simply ignored him. But I cringed when Amy gently reminded him that I was with someone, and Seth emitted a response that more polite people might think but would not say aloud.
Everyone who works with the public grows accustomed to assisting people whose behavior is - different. And Seth clearly has issues, though prior to his outburst at Amy he had never exhibited them to such an extent. Even as I continued to work quietly with my patron, concentrating on finding ratings of local residences for older people, I felt guilty, as if the fact that Seth wanted to talk to me made me responsible for his behavior. And my heart went out to Amy, who managed to recover from her shock quickly in order to assist other people.
When I was free to talk to Seth, I helped him obtain the information that he needed (directions to the county board of social services) - but made it clear that his outburst was unacceptable. "We need to have respect for you," I told him. "But you also need to have respect for us." Unfortunately, he didn't quite understand that it's not always necessary to express thoughts aloud. "I say what I feel," he responded. "There are some staff members that I like, but there are others that I don't."
I told the Head of Reference that we may have to be aware of Seth's actions, but I'm hoping that he'll manage to restrain himself in the future. Even if he manages to do so, however, someone else will surely cause a commotion - perhaps a worse one. Coping with these incidents (and we are thankful that there are few of them) is part of the job.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Mike
It was an unusually quiet Monday afternoon in the library. The beautiful weather - sunny, breezy, an early prelude to summer - was obviously keeping people outdoors (and we staff members wished that we could join them. I keep hoping that our budget will include a line item for a retractable roof, but so far that hasn't happened).
What had been an uneventful three-hour desk shift ended with a rather unpleasant patron encounter. Admittedly, it was my fault. An older gentleman named Mike asked about our computer classes - a common question that is answered numerous times by numerous staff members during any particular day. But before I could proceed with my explanation of the one-time, one-hour basic classes, he startled me with a further request: he wanted to know whether our computers contained special screens for the visually impaired.
I knew that they didn't. And yet I didn't want to answer Mike with a flat "no." His request was perfectly reasonable, and there had to be something that we could do for him in order to enable him to take classes. I asked Amy, my colleague on the desk, who had been with the library system for much longer than I had, if she knew of any resources. Inwardly, I was embarrassed for not having the information right at my fingertips, for having to think and to ask for assistance in helping someone who had a disability.
While Amy conducted the research for an appropriate device, Mike told me that he wanted to register for a class even if he couldn't obtain a screen to improve his sight. I did this - not thinking - jotting the date and time of the class on a small piece of paper. After I presented it to him, he thanked me, and I resumed the independent work that I do when I'm not busy with a patron.
Then Amy returned. She had found information on where Mike could obtain a personal device that could help him, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she wrote the name and phone number of the company on an 8 1/2 x 11 piece of paper. "Ah, here's a woman who knows how to work with the disabled!" Mike cried. I saw him glance at me through the corner of my eye, but, deeply embarrassed, I couldn't bring myself to raise my eyes from my computer.
I had treated him with courtesy, and had wanted to help him. But, while both are essential components of a reference transaction, they weren't enough to prevent me from handling the interaction badly. Why on Earth hadn't I thought to give Mike a form that he could actually read?! Of what use would a tiny piece of paper be to a man who has vision problems?! I had failed, not because I had to think about where he could obtain the assistance that he needed (although that was embarrassing enough), but because my response to him completely glossed over his disability. And in this case the bulk of the interaction necessitated the acknowledgment of his disability.
I sometimes find myself wondering how I could have improved an interaction with a patron. In this case I know how I could have done better. Will I have the chance to work with Mike again?
What had been an uneventful three-hour desk shift ended with a rather unpleasant patron encounter. Admittedly, it was my fault. An older gentleman named Mike asked about our computer classes - a common question that is answered numerous times by numerous staff members during any particular day. But before I could proceed with my explanation of the one-time, one-hour basic classes, he startled me with a further request: he wanted to know whether our computers contained special screens for the visually impaired.
I knew that they didn't. And yet I didn't want to answer Mike with a flat "no." His request was perfectly reasonable, and there had to be something that we could do for him in order to enable him to take classes. I asked Amy, my colleague on the desk, who had been with the library system for much longer than I had, if she knew of any resources. Inwardly, I was embarrassed for not having the information right at my fingertips, for having to think and to ask for assistance in helping someone who had a disability.
While Amy conducted the research for an appropriate device, Mike told me that he wanted to register for a class even if he couldn't obtain a screen to improve his sight. I did this - not thinking - jotting the date and time of the class on a small piece of paper. After I presented it to him, he thanked me, and I resumed the independent work that I do when I'm not busy with a patron.
Then Amy returned. She had found information on where Mike could obtain a personal device that could help him, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she wrote the name and phone number of the company on an 8 1/2 x 11 piece of paper. "Ah, here's a woman who knows how to work with the disabled!" Mike cried. I saw him glance at me through the corner of my eye, but, deeply embarrassed, I couldn't bring myself to raise my eyes from my computer.
I had treated him with courtesy, and had wanted to help him. But, while both are essential components of a reference transaction, they weren't enough to prevent me from handling the interaction badly. Why on Earth hadn't I thought to give Mike a form that he could actually read?! Of what use would a tiny piece of paper be to a man who has vision problems?! I had failed, not because I had to think about where he could obtain the assistance that he needed (although that was embarrassing enough), but because my response to him completely glossed over his disability. And in this case the bulk of the interaction necessitated the acknowledgment of his disability.
I sometimes find myself wondering how I could have improved an interaction with a patron. In this case I know how I could have done better. Will I have the chance to work with Mike again?
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thing #14: Technorati
When I first began to blog, I did it just for the sake of knowing that I could - but actually preferred to keep my thoughts to myself. Now that I've become more comfortable in writing online (thanks to the encouragement of the few people who have commented on my blog), I want to make my journal more visible. I thought that Technorati would enable me to achieve that goal.
The fact is, though, that the Web is so overwhelmed with blogs - large and small, up-to-date and old, read and unread - that it seems to be impossible for Technorati to meet its purpose - to catalog blogs in such a way that they'll be easy-to-search and easy-to-find. After "claiming" my blog, I tried to search for it - and couldn't find it. I then attempted to search for a colleague's blog - and again, couldn't find it.
I also had a difficult time trying to figure out how to "tag" my blog entries. But it seems to make more sense to tag the entire blog. There must be a way to do this; I suppose that I just need to keep playing.
The fact is, though, that the Web is so overwhelmed with blogs - large and small, up-to-date and old, read and unread - that it seems to be impossible for Technorati to meet its purpose - to catalog blogs in such a way that they'll be easy-to-search and easy-to-find. After "claiming" my blog, I tried to search for it - and couldn't find it. I then attempted to search for a colleague's blog - and again, couldn't find it.
I also had a difficult time trying to figure out how to "tag" my blog entries. But it seems to make more sense to tag the entire blog. There must be a way to do this; I suppose that I just need to keep playing.
Thing #13: Del.icio.us!
Del.icio.us is obviously a valuable tool for those who often search the Internet for sites that pertain to the same topic. If I were writing a research paper (and I miss the days when I actually needed to do that!), I would definitely use the site on a regular basis. Likewise, if I visited the same sites repeatedly, I would store the URLs in del.icio.us. It's a great resource.
There are aspects of the site that could be improved, though. The odd spelling of del.icio.us annoys me. I would never remember to place the periods after the "l" and after the "o!" Furthermore, I think that the appearance of the homepage could be improved; someone who is unfamiliar with the site (such as I was, before I played with it!) would find it confusing.
Since I'm not an avid researcher, or prone to visiting the same sites regularly, I'm not going to create a personal del.icio.us account. I simply don't have a need for it right now. To create yet another account just to be able to say that I have such an account is a waste.
There are aspects of the site that could be improved, though. The odd spelling of del.icio.us annoys me. I would never remember to place the periods after the "l" and after the "o!" Furthermore, I think that the appearance of the homepage could be improved; someone who is unfamiliar with the site (such as I was, before I played with it!) would find it confusing.
Since I'm not an avid researcher, or prone to visiting the same sites regularly, I'm not going to create a personal del.icio.us account. I simply don't have a need for it right now. To create yet another account just to be able to say that I have such an account is a waste.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The End of Great Books
"I'm sorry to tell you that we've decided to discontinue our meetings."
This announcement, from the leader of our Great Books Discussion Group, was a disappointment but not a surprise. I had assumed responsibility for publicizing the organization (and many of our other monthly clubs) when I started working at the branch nearly two years ago. After leaving a supervisory position at another library, I was relieved to get back into programming - and cheerfully began trying to attract more patrons to our groups.
But Great Books has always been different. It's a formal discussion group whose sessions are structured around specific questions. The topics of the discussions are classics - sometimes easy-to-find classics like Shakespeare's works, but more frequently obscure pieces I (an English major) had never heard of, and which most public libraries wouldn't carry. As a result, those who participated in the groups had to obtain their copies through the Great Books organization - in other words, they had to purchase them.
Each meeting attracted between five and eight people. This number remained static despite the fact that some potential new members occasionally attended. I explained to the leaders that their group was unique, that its rigid format and academic focus appealed to certain types of people. In general, our township's residents (like those of many communities) prefer the relaxed atmosphere of general book discussion groups, where participants can feel free to occasionally get off topic.
I talked to the leaders about scheduling a program in which Great Books would be promoted to a wider audience - namely, to those who could attend an evening series. We discussed the possibility of asking college professors to discuss "reading" in general. But the idea never fully developed, because April's meeting attracted only three people. The leaders were no longer willing to devote their time and energy to the group.
I'm saddened that this special group disbanded, though I know that it was due to the fact that it was in the wrong venue, not due to a lack of publicity or interest on my part. We disbanded Great Books on a fairly positive note - referring interested patrons to Great Books meetings in other locations (as opposed to shrugging and apologizing). And I think about the clubs that I started that are successful - our Writers' Circle, our Quilting Bee. Still, the loss of Great Books still feels like just that - a loss.
This announcement, from the leader of our Great Books Discussion Group, was a disappointment but not a surprise. I had assumed responsibility for publicizing the organization (and many of our other monthly clubs) when I started working at the branch nearly two years ago. After leaving a supervisory position at another library, I was relieved to get back into programming - and cheerfully began trying to attract more patrons to our groups.
But Great Books has always been different. It's a formal discussion group whose sessions are structured around specific questions. The topics of the discussions are classics - sometimes easy-to-find classics like Shakespeare's works, but more frequently obscure pieces I (an English major) had never heard of, and which most public libraries wouldn't carry. As a result, those who participated in the groups had to obtain their copies through the Great Books organization - in other words, they had to purchase them.
Each meeting attracted between five and eight people. This number remained static despite the fact that some potential new members occasionally attended. I explained to the leaders that their group was unique, that its rigid format and academic focus appealed to certain types of people. In general, our township's residents (like those of many communities) prefer the relaxed atmosphere of general book discussion groups, where participants can feel free to occasionally get off topic.
I talked to the leaders about scheduling a program in which Great Books would be promoted to a wider audience - namely, to those who could attend an evening series. We discussed the possibility of asking college professors to discuss "reading" in general. But the idea never fully developed, because April's meeting attracted only three people. The leaders were no longer willing to devote their time and energy to the group.
I'm saddened that this special group disbanded, though I know that it was due to the fact that it was in the wrong venue, not due to a lack of publicity or interest on my part. We disbanded Great Books on a fairly positive note - referring interested patrons to Great Books meetings in other locations (as opposed to shrugging and apologizing). And I think about the clubs that I started that are successful - our Writers' Circle, our Quilting Bee. Still, the loss of Great Books still feels like just that - a loss.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thing #12 - NetLibrary and WorldCat
I don't understand NetLibrary's appeal.
I can understand the desire to read books on a portable electronic device, although I don't have such a desire myself. But subscribing to yet another service simply for the sake of reading books on a computer doesn't make sense to me. Ugggghh. I'd rather attempt to obtain the physical copy of the book, even if I need to wait for it (I understand, though, that this is not a practical option for everyone!).
I promise, though, that I can show a patron how to access NetLibrary. And I promise to not say "ugggghhh" in front of the patron.
My experience with WorldCat has been different. If I'm attempting to ILL a book for a patron, and I can't find the item in Amazon or B&N, I use a WorldCat citation. It's a great tool.
I can understand the desire to read books on a portable electronic device, although I don't have such a desire myself. But subscribing to yet another service simply for the sake of reading books on a computer doesn't make sense to me. Ugggghh. I'd rather attempt to obtain the physical copy of the book, even if I need to wait for it (I understand, though, that this is not a practical option for everyone!).
I promise, though, that I can show a patron how to access NetLibrary. And I promise to not say "ugggghhh" in front of the patron.
My experience with WorldCat has been different. If I'm attempting to ILL a book for a patron, and I can't find the item in Amazon or B&N, I use a WorldCat citation. It's a great tool.
Thing #11: LibraryThing
I have to admit that I won't use all of the Web 2.0 elements that we're learning about. It's essential to know about them, just to be able to communicate with patrons, but I won't use all of them for my own purposes (sites that are strictly for social networking, Facebook or MySpace, for example).
But what librarian would not fall in love with LibraryThing? What a great "thing" to be able keep track of your own reading (and listening) materials online! Until last year, I would faithfully record my books on index cards. I would jot down the title and author, the dates that I read the book, and a few short sentences describing my thoughts. Then, I would give the book an overall grade, ranging from A to F (admittedly, I rarely gave Fs; if I despised a book that much I wouldn't complete it!). At the end of the year, I would count the number of books that I had read.
In 2007, life just became too busy for me to spare even the small amount of time that it took me to complete my index cards. I'm so thankful that I'll be able to start this tradition again via LibraryThing (since I'm at a computer every day, there won't be any reason not to!).
But what librarian would not fall in love with LibraryThing? What a great "thing" to be able keep track of your own reading (and listening) materials online! Until last year, I would faithfully record my books on index cards. I would jot down the title and author, the dates that I read the book, and a few short sentences describing my thoughts. Then, I would give the book an overall grade, ranging from A to F (admittedly, I rarely gave Fs; if I despised a book that much I wouldn't complete it!). At the end of the year, I would count the number of books that I had read.
In 2007, life just became too busy for me to spare even the small amount of time that it took me to complete my index cards. I'm so thankful that I'll be able to start this tradition again via LibraryThing (since I'm at a computer every day, there won't be any reason not to!).
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Thing #10: TECHNOLOGY!
I just completed a blog entry in which I complained about the functioning of a piece of equipment that was invented long ago (in "technology years," that is), and now I'm being asked to write about technology again! Actually, if anyone had actually read my previous entry, he might jump to the conclusion that I'm a die-hard traditionalist, that I'm opposed to new inventions of any form.
That is far from the truth. One could hardly be a librarian and be resistant to the advent of devices which enhance communication and broaden opportunities to conduct research (it would have been much more difficult to be a reference librarian in the pre-Internet era!). It's just difficult for me to tolerate those times in which the devices on which we are so dependent cease to function (especially when it happens in the middle of a program!).
It's hard to write about one particular trend, as there are so many that we need to monitor. In his column entitled "20 Things to Watch," Stephen Abram noted that mobile devices such as Blackberries are becoming increasingly popular - and this will certainly affect libraries (how soon remains to be seen, since it difficult to envision having a budget large enough to purchase either the gadgets or the software that can be installed on them). Other trends, such as social networking and e-books, seem equally important. In fact, there is almost an overwhelmingly constant stream of new technology that will impact libraries.
What we need to do is to prioritize. We need to recognize that a certain portion of our budget will be used to implement new types of services (while, simultaneously, using funds to maintain those collections and services that we already have; the demand for print copies of books will not diminish at any time in the near future). Furthermore, it is essential that staff members continue to learn the terminology (and in many cases the functions) of those services that have become part of our patrons' lives. The Web 2.0 Challenge is a tremendous help - but the need to learn won't stop after those MP3 players are distributed!
That is far from the truth. One could hardly be a librarian and be resistant to the advent of devices which enhance communication and broaden opportunities to conduct research (it would have been much more difficult to be a reference librarian in the pre-Internet era!). It's just difficult for me to tolerate those times in which the devices on which we are so dependent cease to function (especially when it happens in the middle of a program!).
It's hard to write about one particular trend, as there are so many that we need to monitor. In his column entitled "20 Things to Watch," Stephen Abram noted that mobile devices such as Blackberries are becoming increasingly popular - and this will certainly affect libraries (how soon remains to be seen, since it difficult to envision having a budget large enough to purchase either the gadgets or the software that can be installed on them). Other trends, such as social networking and e-books, seem equally important. In fact, there is almost an overwhelmingly constant stream of new technology that will impact libraries.
What we need to do is to prioritize. We need to recognize that a certain portion of our budget will be used to implement new types of services (while, simultaneously, using funds to maintain those collections and services that we already have; the demand for print copies of books will not diminish at any time in the near future). Furthermore, it is essential that staff members continue to learn the terminology (and in many cases the functions) of those services that have become part of our patrons' lives. The Web 2.0 Challenge is a tremendous help - but the need to learn won't stop after those MP3 players are distributed!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Throw Out the Laptop!
There's a reason that I don't work in our Technology Department.
When a computer breaks down (and this happens quite often in the library world), my instinct is to throw the darned thing out the window. Ahhhh, what satisfaction I'd get - the enormous crash as the machine strikes the ground, the shreds of computer organs scattering, useless, across the grass. "There," I'd tell the dead machine. "I showed you!"
Of course, I've never actually done this. I've just imagined doing it. Had I not been control of my emotions, I'd have lost my job (as well as my reputation, much of my personal savings, and perhaps even my freedom) long ago.
But last night my desire to kill the computer was even stronger than usual. This time, the target of my anger was the laptop that we use to show movies to the public. My anger was justified, because the laptop simply refused to run the DVD. It refused. And I had an audience waiting to watch the film (granted, the audience only consisted of four people, but I wanted them to have the opportunity to enjoy the movie). After thirty minutes of trying to direct the computer to play the movie, I did what I should have done in the first place - I restarted it. Finally, the movie played (of course, fifteen minutes later an audience member informed me that the subtitles weren't turned on!).
Lest you think that I was overreacting, bear in mind that this episode had followed another laptop-instigated crisis. Last week, in the middle of a popular new release that was being viewed by twenty-one people, the computer decided that it needed to "automatically install new updates." When I was called into the room by a patient patron, I found that the pop-up window would not close. It warned me that the machine would shut down in seconds. Desperate, I ran to grab the nearest knowledgable staff member (by calling wildly to her across the library), but by the time we rushed back to the meeting room, the laptop had shut itself down. To make matters worse, the DVD did not revert to where it had stopped - leading me to spend even more time fast-forwarding through the scenes until the audience members instructed me to press "play."
Needless to say, the laptop and I seem to have developed a mutual animosity. I realize, though, that I have no choice but to establish a more tolerable relationship with it, since showing movies will remain part of my programming responsibilities for quite some time. Dealing with this machine is just another of those aspects of the job that need to be tolerated - like fixing the copier.
When a computer breaks down (and this happens quite often in the library world), my instinct is to throw the darned thing out the window. Ahhhh, what satisfaction I'd get - the enormous crash as the machine strikes the ground, the shreds of computer organs scattering, useless, across the grass. "There," I'd tell the dead machine. "I showed you!"
Of course, I've never actually done this. I've just imagined doing it. Had I not been control of my emotions, I'd have lost my job (as well as my reputation, much of my personal savings, and perhaps even my freedom) long ago.
But last night my desire to kill the computer was even stronger than usual. This time, the target of my anger was the laptop that we use to show movies to the public. My anger was justified, because the laptop simply refused to run the DVD. It refused. And I had an audience waiting to watch the film (granted, the audience only consisted of four people, but I wanted them to have the opportunity to enjoy the movie). After thirty minutes of trying to direct the computer to play the movie, I did what I should have done in the first place - I restarted it. Finally, the movie played (of course, fifteen minutes later an audience member informed me that the subtitles weren't turned on!).
Lest you think that I was overreacting, bear in mind that this episode had followed another laptop-instigated crisis. Last week, in the middle of a popular new release that was being viewed by twenty-one people, the computer decided that it needed to "automatically install new updates." When I was called into the room by a patient patron, I found that the pop-up window would not close. It warned me that the machine would shut down in seconds. Desperate, I ran to grab the nearest knowledgable staff member (by calling wildly to her across the library), but by the time we rushed back to the meeting room, the laptop had shut itself down. To make matters worse, the DVD did not revert to where it had stopped - leading me to spend even more time fast-forwarding through the scenes until the audience members instructed me to press "play."
Needless to say, the laptop and I seem to have developed a mutual animosity. I realize, though, that I have no choice but to establish a more tolerable relationship with it, since showing movies will remain part of my programming responsibilities for quite some time. Dealing with this machine is just another of those aspects of the job that need to be tolerated - like fixing the copier.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
A Woman Named Judi
Most reference transactions are routine. A patron comes to the desk, asks me for Jodi Picoult's Change of Heart or for the credentials of a local cardiologist, receives his response, thanks me with a smile, and walks away. I'm glad that he has received the information that he needs, but the encounter is forgotten as soon as I assist other people. The patron remains nameless, even if I've just reserved a book for him. And when he visits the library again, I may recognize his face, but will most likely not recall his name or the question that I had assisted him with during his previous visit.
And my name almost certainly remains meaningless to him, despite the fact that my name is clearly labeled on my tag. It was a simple conversation in a day that, for the patron, is filled with other simple conversations as he completes the errands on his "to-do" list - the bank, the cleaners, the gas station.
But, like every librarian, I occasionally have an encounter that will not be forgotten. I wrote about such an experience in a much earlier entry, when I assisted a patron who needed to write an obituary for his wife. Today, it happened again.
The tearful voice on the other end of the telephone told me that her name was Judi. Her mother Rosie, a woman who was once full of life, had deteriorated significantly in the nursing home in which she had been living. The staff paid little attention to Rosie's physical and emotional needs. Judi's attempts to discharge her mother were denied. Judi requested the name and phone number of an organization to which she could file a complaint against the home whose inadequate care had led to her mother's needless suffering.
Judi's voice was more sorrowful than angry. She herself was, she continued, in a state: handicapped, arthritic - and dying of cancer. My desire to help her, and my distress of knowing that I could only do so much (I was only a librarian, after all; my job was to give Judi the phone number, not to follow through, not to be a friend, and not to ensure that her mother escaped her prison), made my compassion almost overwhelming - and I had to step back and remind myself of my role.
I gave Judi the phone number for the New Jersey Department of Health and Human Services. Thanking me profusely (much more than I deserved), she asked me to find a listing of states whose environments are beneficial for seniors and those who are ill. Judi's physician had strongly suggested that she leave New Jersey. This project will involve a bit more research than finding a phone number, and I told Judi that I would call her as soon as I had the information that she needed.
My work for Judi will continue.
And my name almost certainly remains meaningless to him, despite the fact that my name is clearly labeled on my tag. It was a simple conversation in a day that, for the patron, is filled with other simple conversations as he completes the errands on his "to-do" list - the bank, the cleaners, the gas station.
But, like every librarian, I occasionally have an encounter that will not be forgotten. I wrote about such an experience in a much earlier entry, when I assisted a patron who needed to write an obituary for his wife. Today, it happened again.
The tearful voice on the other end of the telephone told me that her name was Judi. Her mother Rosie, a woman who was once full of life, had deteriorated significantly in the nursing home in which she had been living. The staff paid little attention to Rosie's physical and emotional needs. Judi's attempts to discharge her mother were denied. Judi requested the name and phone number of an organization to which she could file a complaint against the home whose inadequate care had led to her mother's needless suffering.
Judi's voice was more sorrowful than angry. She herself was, she continued, in a state: handicapped, arthritic - and dying of cancer. My desire to help her, and my distress of knowing that I could only do so much (I was only a librarian, after all; my job was to give Judi the phone number, not to follow through, not to be a friend, and not to ensure that her mother escaped her prison), made my compassion almost overwhelming - and I had to step back and remind myself of my role.
I gave Judi the phone number for the New Jersey Department of Health and Human Services. Thanking me profusely (much more than I deserved), she asked me to find a listing of states whose environments are beneficial for seniors and those who are ill. Judi's physician had strongly suggested that she leave New Jersey. This project will involve a bit more research than finding a phone number, and I told Judi that I would call her as soon as I had the information that she needed.
My work for Judi will continue.
Monday, April 14, 2008
A Short One.......(Thing #9)
This will be a quick entry!
I'm still working to catch up to my colleagues on our Web 2.0 Challenge! I have to admit that I hadn't anticipated the amount of time that the Challenge would take. Admittedly, it is hard to prioritize; like everyone else, I have so much work to accomplish, but still need to find time to learn new skills!
At any rate, this entry is about "Thing #9" - toying with RSS feed-finding sites. Playing with Syndic8.com and Technorati was briefly interesting, but I won't have much need for either of them. I've subscribed to the feeds that I want (and reading all 16 of them regularly will itself be a challenge!).
There. On to "Thing #10!"
I'm still working to catch up to my colleagues on our Web 2.0 Challenge! I have to admit that I hadn't anticipated the amount of time that the Challenge would take. Admittedly, it is hard to prioritize; like everyone else, I have so much work to accomplish, but still need to find time to learn new skills!
At any rate, this entry is about "Thing #9" - toying with RSS feed-finding sites. Playing with Syndic8.com and Technorati was briefly interesting, but I won't have much need for either of them. I've subscribed to the feeds that I want (and reading all 16 of them regularly will itself be a challenge!).
There. On to "Thing #10!"
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
A Bit More About Myself......
I never thought that I would reveal much about myself online. As a librarian, I'm well-aware of the dangers that exist in cyberspace - and I value my privacy.
But as I was creating my Yahoo! Account (which I did only because it was necessary in order to create an account elsewhere), I found that I was typing more information about myself than merely my e-mail address. Tidbits of my personal life just seemed to flow. I wrote about interests that I didn't know that I had (and no, the description isn't fictional; it's just that I find it easier to write than to speak. Had someone asked me about my interests, I wouldn't have been able to answer so quickly; I'd have had to think about it and no doubt would have responded that I have little time for hobbies).
Surprisingly, it felt great to reveal myself - without mentioning my name or my address. And so, I've decided to give a bit more on my blog, too. The photo above is my work area - and on my desk is a picture of my family.
Web Challenge Thing #8
I have to admit - I just completed "Thing #8" of the library's "Web 2.0 Challenge." Yes, I'm behind (but only because I was performing other library-related tasks!!).
I've had a Bloglines account for some time, although I only subscribed to three or four feeds. I would check these about once a week. But this exercise, which required us to subscribe to at least 10 newsfeeds and three additional feeds, was a bit much. Three or four feeds would have proven that we knew how to do it! In all honesty, I most likely won't read all of my feeds on a regular basis - mostly because of time constraints.
However, I did complete another "Thing!"
I've had a Bloglines account for some time, although I only subscribed to three or four feeds. I would check these about once a week. But this exercise, which required us to subscribe to at least 10 newsfeeds and three additional feeds, was a bit much. Three or four feeds would have proven that we knew how to do it! In all honesty, I most likely won't read all of my feeds on a regular basis - mostly because of time constraints.
However, I did complete another "Thing!"
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
This Picture Says It All........(Thing #6)
I've blogged my love for research, for helping people obtain the information that they need, for scheduling and promoting events. But I have to confess that my favorite aspect of spending my days in a public library is working beside books! Yes, despite the fact that the modern-day library is a community center - filled with information in every conceivable format - I still love the books.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Oh, the Big Programs!
It's so nice when programs go well - that is, when you have a big, a HUGE - turnout. So much work goes into program-planning: pondering ideas, contacting possible presenters (and agreeing upon on a fee, if you can get the presenters to understand that the library does not have unlimited funds!), checking the meeting room calendar to find a suitable date, creating flyers, writing press releases, praying that patrons attend the program so that you are not completely embarrassed in front of the presenter (isn't that always the case, even though you tell yourself that the weather kept people away?!).
On Wednesday night our library hosted a program entitled "How to Become a Published Author." Approximately 80 people attended; our meeting room was filled to capacity! Obviously, many aspiring authors live in our community (and in the surrounding towns, since not every registrant had a phone number with the same area code as ours). With the exception of some minor technological glitches at the beginning of the program (and the fact that the author spent a bit too much time describing his own qualifications!), the event was a tremendous success. At the end of the presentation, attendees lined up to talk to the author, and many people thanked me for hosting the program.
The program also provided me with another opportunity to publicize our library's Writer's Circle, a monthly daytime group whose members critique each other's works and discuss the business of authorship. The attendance of this group has ebbed and flowed. Initially, there were actually too many participants for such an organization to succeed; the members had to break down into smaller groups. Soon, however, many of the initial attendees stopped participating. The primary reason, I gathered, was that people wanted different things from the group; some wanted to critique, while others wanted only an opportunity to read their works. Some didn't want to share their works at all, but preferred to spend time discussing issues such as copyrighting and writer's block.
But I believe in this group; what better place for a group of aspiring authors to meet than a public library? It helps, too, that my own dreams of authorship, which have long since died, are tied into this program. And so, rather than close the Circle due to dwindling numbers, I persisted. And slowly, I think, we're getting there - the numbers have begun to rise, and the number of participants in the nighttime program were astounding. So there is a need for such a group in our community.
It is so wonderful to know that I've created a resource for people. There is no better way to spend the day than working in a library.
On Wednesday night our library hosted a program entitled "How to Become a Published Author." Approximately 80 people attended; our meeting room was filled to capacity! Obviously, many aspiring authors live in our community (and in the surrounding towns, since not every registrant had a phone number with the same area code as ours). With the exception of some minor technological glitches at the beginning of the program (and the fact that the author spent a bit too much time describing his own qualifications!), the event was a tremendous success. At the end of the presentation, attendees lined up to talk to the author, and many people thanked me for hosting the program.
The program also provided me with another opportunity to publicize our library's Writer's Circle, a monthly daytime group whose members critique each other's works and discuss the business of authorship. The attendance of this group has ebbed and flowed. Initially, there were actually too many participants for such an organization to succeed; the members had to break down into smaller groups. Soon, however, many of the initial attendees stopped participating. The primary reason, I gathered, was that people wanted different things from the group; some wanted to critique, while others wanted only an opportunity to read their works. Some didn't want to share their works at all, but preferred to spend time discussing issues such as copyrighting and writer's block.
But I believe in this group; what better place for a group of aspiring authors to meet than a public library? It helps, too, that my own dreams of authorship, which have long since died, are tied into this program. And so, rather than close the Circle due to dwindling numbers, I persisted. And slowly, I think, we're getting there - the numbers have begun to rise, and the number of participants in the nighttime program were astounding. So there is a need for such a group in our community.
It is so wonderful to know that I've created a resource for people. There is no better way to spend the day than working in a library.
Monday, March 24, 2008
"The Old Library" (or, Thing #5)
http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikvanhannen/2143007559/
No, my library doesn't look like this (how many do, today?). But the photo captures the essence of a library: the excitement of learning is reflected not only in the books that line the shelves, but also in the images that line the walls and ceiling, and in the perfect illumination of light on the walls, the floor, and the table (as someone noted in the original picture!).
I'd love to visit this library (sigh!). But since it's in the Netherlands, and I'm not planning a trip to Europe anytime in the near future, I'll have to wait.......and be satisfied with the library that I work in every day.
No, my library doesn't look like this (how many do, today?). But the photo captures the essence of a library: the excitement of learning is reflected not only in the books that line the shelves, but also in the images that line the walls and ceiling, and in the perfect illumination of light on the walls, the floor, and the table (as someone noted in the original picture!).
I'd love to visit this library (sigh!). But since it's in the Netherlands, and I'm not planning a trip to Europe anytime in the near future, I'll have to wait.......and be satisfied with the library that I work in every day.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Only Because It's Part of the Job.......
Helping patrons with the copiers.
Ooooh. I cringe whenever I get asked to assist people with the copiers. I don't have a talent for fixing machines, regardless of whether that "thing" is a copier, a fax machine, or a computer. But at least the computer is essential to my favorite part of the job - helping people find information. And our Branch doesn't have a public fax machine, which means that I'm spared - for the most part - from working with that. That leaves the almightly copier.
It's not only that I lack a talent for working with machines, because, in all honesty, how many of us do? Most librarians (and library assistants) do not enter the field dreaming about the number of photocopying jobs that they'll assist with. But for some reason I lack patience for this particular part of customer service. Yes, I smile, I grin, I grab the bypass key (just in case), I act as if I'm thrilled to assist my patrons, but the truth is - I can't stand this job! And this morning I had two patrons who needed assistance (because one person, catching me in the act of helping someone else, decided to take advantage of my proximity). Both of these people, I thought to myself, made absolutely ridiculous mistakes.
Oh, it feels good to vent! I wonder what parts of the job other librarians (secretly, of course), can't stand?
Ooooh. I cringe whenever I get asked to assist people with the copiers. I don't have a talent for fixing machines, regardless of whether that "thing" is a copier, a fax machine, or a computer. But at least the computer is essential to my favorite part of the job - helping people find information. And our Branch doesn't have a public fax machine, which means that I'm spared - for the most part - from working with that. That leaves the almightly copier.
It's not only that I lack a talent for working with machines, because, in all honesty, how many of us do? Most librarians (and library assistants) do not enter the field dreaming about the number of photocopying jobs that they'll assist with. But for some reason I lack patience for this particular part of customer service. Yes, I smile, I grin, I grab the bypass key (just in case), I act as if I'm thrilled to assist my patrons, but the truth is - I can't stand this job! And this morning I had two patrons who needed assistance (because one person, catching me in the act of helping someone else, decided to take advantage of my proximity). Both of these people, I thought to myself, made absolutely ridiculous mistakes.
Oh, it feels good to vent! I wonder what parts of the job other librarians (secretly, of course), can't stand?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Challenges
As a librarian, I love the idea of lifelong learning (doing it myself and encouraging it in others). Unfortunately, I do fall prey to excuses to avoid trying new things (too tired, too many routine tasks that have to be accomplished at work, too busy caring for a three-year-old when I'm not at work, etc.).
That's why I'm glad that my library system is encouraging its staff members to participate in the Web 2.0 Challenge! Learning the tools of Web 2.0 is so important for librarians because we need to be able to communicate with our patrons. It appears so unprofessional when we merely give our young students a blank look if they make a reference to a technological device that we have no experience with or use a term that we haven't heard before (i.e. - an MP3 player, a Facebook account, downloading music to an MP3 player, etc). It's also downright embarrassing.
So I'm going to throw myself into the Web 2.0 Challenge. The real challenge, for me, will be finding the time to complete each task. But I am motivated, and if I can maintain this level of motivation, then that will help me make the time.
That's why I'm glad that my library system is encouraging its staff members to participate in the Web 2.0 Challenge! Learning the tools of Web 2.0 is so important for librarians because we need to be able to communicate with our patrons. It appears so unprofessional when we merely give our young students a blank look if they make a reference to a technological device that we have no experience with or use a term that we haven't heard before (i.e. - an MP3 player, a Facebook account, downloading music to an MP3 player, etc). It's also downright embarrassing.
So I'm going to throw myself into the Web 2.0 Challenge. The real challenge, for me, will be finding the time to complete each task. But I am motivated, and if I can maintain this level of motivation, then that will help me make the time.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The "Little" Mistakes
Last night we realized, too late, that we had forgotten to order a black ink cartridge for the printer. This was the MAIN printer for the building (the one that does the fancy stuff, like print instantaneously, print in color, etc). The staff, fortunately, was able to use another printer - but the public was not. Oops.
Don't you love those moments, the ones that make you look so great in the eyes of the public (?!). We all have them, because we're all human and we're all going to make mistakes. It's true, too, that many of us are too busy thinking about the obviously big aspects of our work (like answering reference questions and planning programs) to remember that the ink cartridges have to be replaced. In this case, the staff member who replaced the cartridge the last time didn't realize that he was using the last one, or he would have informed the staff member who is responsible for ordering supplies (or perhaps he became so occupied with assisting the public that he simply forgot).
But the fact that this happens to all of us doesn't ease the discomfort when it does happen, because we know that we've disappointed our patrons. We can't provide them with a service that they had assumed they would have when they drove to the library. We appear negligent and careless, less than professional (to say the least).
So how do we save ourselves, our reputations? By being apologetic and courteous when we have made mistakes. By being professional the rest of the time, when our printers are filled with fresh ink and ready to run. And when we do both, our patrons are calm and understanding. Like they were last night.
Don't you love those moments, the ones that make you look so great in the eyes of the public (?!). We all have them, because we're all human and we're all going to make mistakes. It's true, too, that many of us are too busy thinking about the obviously big aspects of our work (like answering reference questions and planning programs) to remember that the ink cartridges have to be replaced. In this case, the staff member who replaced the cartridge the last time didn't realize that he was using the last one, or he would have informed the staff member who is responsible for ordering supplies (or perhaps he became so occupied with assisting the public that he simply forgot).
But the fact that this happens to all of us doesn't ease the discomfort when it does happen, because we know that we've disappointed our patrons. We can't provide them with a service that they had assumed they would have when they drove to the library. We appear negligent and careless, less than professional (to say the least).
So how do we save ourselves, our reputations? By being apologetic and courteous when we have made mistakes. By being professional the rest of the time, when our printers are filled with fresh ink and ready to run. And when we do both, our patrons are calm and understanding. Like they were last night.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Procrastinating
It's been so long since I've written that I think that I've forgotten how to write, and I, like so many librarians, once dreamed of writing the great American novel. But the need to accomplish small everyday tasks (and the need to sleep!) take precedence over turning a "dream" into reality, and it isn't long before that dream dies.
Not that I'm complaining or feeling sorry for myself (not much, anyway). This is the way life is. And the primary aspects of my life - my family and my library career - fill me with joy. But I can't help but think how sad it is that not only do I not write on a regular basis, but when I do have to write, I get nervous and gasp for words. I procrastinate, find other things to do, even when there is so much that I could write about. And eventually I noticed that my last blog post was in August.
Sad.
But enough about that. Here is to a new beginning. I wonder, I hope, no - I will (!), make the time to blog once a week. Even if no one ever reads it. Maybe it's better that way!
Not that I'm complaining or feeling sorry for myself (not much, anyway). This is the way life is. And the primary aspects of my life - my family and my library career - fill me with joy. But I can't help but think how sad it is that not only do I not write on a regular basis, but when I do have to write, I get nervous and gasp for words. I procrastinate, find other things to do, even when there is so much that I could write about. And eventually I noticed that my last blog post was in August.
Sad.
But enough about that. Here is to a new beginning. I wonder, I hope, no - I will (!), make the time to blog once a week. Even if no one ever reads it. Maybe it's better that way!
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