"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.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
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!"
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